|After posting our original item on Dead Wood, we received the distressing story below, which requires no further comment on our part as it reinforces our point very nicely.|
The Most Harassment for the Least Offence
What sort of police force are we getting for the vast amount of taxpayers' cash thrown at it these days? Chief constables are always moaning about lack of resources but could we not afford to lose a few coppers like the ones described here?
Take the case of Mr. A, a pensioner with a long record of service to his community. His noisy neighbour complained about the height of Mr. A's hedge then erected a fence HIGHER than the hedge and added Mr. A to his blacklist. Not knowing that he was persona non grata, Mr. A continued to offer routine greetings in passing to a neighbour of many years. He also added comments about the neighbour's increasingly bizarre behaviour, which included coming over to their boundary and glaring at Mr. A.
The neighbour started recording Mr. A's remarks and, after persecuting Mr. A with his bizarre behaviour for the best part of a year, cobbled together a harassment complaint, which he took to the local police. In due course, Mr. A. received a letter inviting him to report to the local police station for an interview under caution. He made two appointments with the rather ineffectual local bobby, both of which were cancelled at short notice by the policeman.
Out of the blue, the local police inspector decided to have Mr. A arrested. So, early one morning, Mr. A found a scruffy looking thug sneaking around in his garden; he turned out to be a police sergeant. The local bobby was also on arrest duty. Mr. A asked to be allowed to change into clothing more appropriate for going out but he ended up being assaulted in his own home, handcuffed and hauled out to the pavement to be searched for the entertainment of his neighbours. The sergeant also made an illegal search of Mr. A's home.
Rather than a police car, the police officers had brought a police van. Mr A was obliged to stand in the cage in the back of the van, being thrown around by every bump in the road and the sergeant's bad driving. He was taken the long way round to his local police station, a distance of around 12 miles. The police officers disappeared into the building to collect a supply of sandwiches for their lunch, then they carried on to the "custody suite" for the area, making the total journey 30 miles.
At the custody suite, 70-year-old Mr. A was processed and the nurse who mopped up the blood from a cut on his arm blithely told him that it would continue to bleed for a while, and the nerve damage from the viciously applied handcuffs would last for a couple of months, or so. Mr. A was then locked in a cell, which was in a filthy state.
Mr. A was arrested early in the morning. The interview took place in the afternoon, after the police officers had enjoyed their sandwiches a privilege not afforded to Mr. A. It was conducted by the local bobby with the sergeant glaring silently at Mr. A as if he had been taking lessons from the vexatious neighbour.
A duty solicitor, who had been summoned for the interview and who rebuked the sergeant for his attempted intimidation, told Mr. A that he ought to be released by 4 p.m. In fact, Mr. A was kept in his cell – with nothing palatable to eat, nothing to do but brood on the unsanitary condition of his surroundings and no means of knowing that time it was – until 11:30 p.m.
He was then evicted from the building (with a spot of routine intimidation from the custody sergeant) in the middle of an industrial estate with no idea of exactly where he was, no phone, no money for a taxi, no credit or bank card, inadequate clothing for a cold night, suffering the effects of a prolonged and unnecessary period of solitary confinement (with some sensory deprivation thrown in), and facing a journey home of some 30 miles.
Fortunately, he was able to borrow a phone from another of the custody suite's "clients", whose sense of decency remained intact, and arrange a lift home.
Mr. A now faces a choice between:
Let us close with a sad story from the Littlejohn column of the Daily Mail, which tells how a Stockport man was persecuted by Greater Manchester Police for confirming that GMP just can't be bothered when someone reports a theft to them, and they turn nasty if someone tries to tell them where the stolen property is.