Strensford could attract some unsavoury characters, and in recent summers there had been a spate of hit-and-run pickpockets, handbag snatches and portable radio thefts. Teams of thieves would operate together, preying on wandering folks when they least expected it. Their technique was simple. In the crowds of a busy holidayresort, they would jostle a holiday-maker, and in the ensuing bustle and uncertainty they would relieve a man of his wallet, a woman of her handbag or a youngster of anything he or she carried – portable radios and cameras were popular targets. It was with such crimes in mind that uniformed police officers patrolled the crowded areas.
‘Well,’ said Ted. ‘I’m a big bloke but two or three of ’em could have a go at me. Anyway, yesterday, I had some money to pay a bill for my father. Cash it was. I had £150 in my wallet and was aware of those villains. I reckoned they wouldn’t really have a go at me … but, well …’
He paused. ‘They did?’
‘I thought they did,’ he said, licking his lips.
‘Thought? What do you mean?’
‘Well, there was I, minding my own business and walking through the crowds along by the Amusements, when these two slobs knocked into me and nearly bowled me over. Running like hell, they were. Well, I nearly fell or tripped or something. Anyway, the minute I got my balance, I felt my pocket – and my wallet had gone.’
‘And you’re a Rugby player of some note in this town?’ I could visualize the following sequence of events.
‘Yeh, well, I’m not one for letting things like that go unchallenged, in a manner of speaking. So I set off after them and caught the one who’d knocked me.’
‘And?’
‘Well, there was a lot of hassle and shouting when I brought him down – with a good tackle, mind – and I shouted something like “My wallet!” I shouted a lot more besides I might add, so he might not have heard everything clearly … Well, he stuttered and stammered and gave me this.’ He showed me one of the brown wallets. ‘Then, like a bloody snake, he wriggled free and was off. Like lightning, he was. He vanished into the crowd.’
‘But you’d got your wallet back?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s the problem. When I opened this one, I found it had no money inside and thought they’d cleaned me out. They’d been quick, I thought, but when I got home my own wallet was on my dressing-table.’
‘Full of money?’
‘Full of money,’ he said, licking his lips again. ‘So this one wasn’t mine. It looks like mine, but well, I didn’t look at it closely at that time, what with all the hassle. So those lads hadn’t robbed me. They’d just been a bit rough and careless as they ran through the crowd.’
‘So you’ve robbed that youth of his wallet?’ I said.
‘Yes, I have, haven’t I?’ and he passed the slim, empty wallet over to me.
My mind was now racing over those training lectures, struggling with the intricacies of mens rea and wondering whether this qualified as a confession to a crime.
But was it a crime?
I opened the wallet and looked through its meagre contents. There was no name or address inside, although I did find a £1 note tucked deep into one of its folds, and some small, square snapshots of a pretty teenaged girl. But nothing else.
I took Ted’s full name and address and thanked him for his honesty, saying I’d have to report the matter to my sergeant for advice. I informed him that I believed there were no grounds for prosecuting him for robbery, but did stress that I could not be sure.
The duty sergeant, who was not Sergeant Blaketon that day, could not decide the issue either, so he sought advice from the Inspector. I told the story as Ted had given it to me, and the Inspector said:
‘Enter the wallet in the found property book, Rhea. We’ve had no complaint from anyone about being robbed, so that means there’s no crime. If we record it as found property, it’ll go into our records.’
‘And
‘Well,’ said Ted. ‘I’m a big bloke but two or three of ’em could have a go at me. Anyway, yesterday, I had some money to pay a bill for my father. Cash it was. I had £150 in my wallet and was aware of those villains. I reckoned they wouldn’t really have a go at me … but, well …’
He paused. ‘They did?’
‘I thought they did,’ he said, licking his lips.
‘Thought? What do you mean?’
‘Well, there was I, minding my own business and walking through the crowds along by the Amusements, when these two slobs knocked into me and nearly bowled me over. Running like hell, they were. Well, I nearly fell or tripped or something. Anyway, the minute I got my balance, I felt my pocket – and my wallet had gone.’
‘And you’re a Rugby player of some note in this town?’ I could visualize the following sequence of events.
‘Yeh, well, I’m not one for letting things like that go unchallenged, in a manner of speaking. So I set off after them and caught the one who’d knocked me.’
‘And?’
‘Well, there was a lot of hassle and shouting when I brought him down – with a good tackle, mind – and I shouted something like “My wallet!” I shouted a lot more besides I might add, so he might not have heard everything clearly … Well, he stuttered and stammered and gave me this.’ He showed me one of the brown wallets. ‘Then, like a bloody snake, he wriggled free and was off. Like lightning, he was. He vanished into the crowd.’
‘But you’d got your wallet back?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s the problem. When I opened this one, I found it had no money inside and thought they’d cleaned me out. They’d been quick, I thought, but when I got home my own wallet was on my dressing-table.’
‘Full of money?’
‘Full of money,’ he said, licking his lips again. ‘So this one wasn’t mine. It looks like mine, but well, I didn’t look at it closely at that time, what with all the hassle. So those lads hadn’t robbed me. They’d just been a bit rough and careless as they ran through the crowd.’
‘So you’ve robbed that youth of his wallet?’ I said.
‘Yes, I have, haven’t I?’ and he passed the slim, empty wallet over to me.
My mind was now racing over those training lectures, struggling with the intricacies of mens rea and wondering whether this qualified as a confession to a crime.
But was it a crime?
I opened the wallet and looked through its meagre contents. There was no name or address inside, although I did find a £1 note tucked deep into one of its folds, and some small, square snapshots of a pretty teenaged girl. But nothing else.
I took Ted’s full name and address and thanked him for his honesty, saying I’d have to report the matter to my sergeant for advice. I informed him that I believed there were no grounds for prosecuting him for robbery, but did stress that I could not be sure.
The duty sergeant, who was not Sergeant Blaketon that day, could not decide the issue either, so he sought advice from the Inspector. I told the story as Ted had given it to me, and the Inspector said:
‘Enter the wallet in the found property book, Rhea. We’ve had no complaint from anyone about being robbed, so that means there’s no crime. If we record it as found property, it’ll go into our records.’
‘And
Similar Books
