“Slower”, I said. “You’re still going too fast. Here, like this…”
It took a bit of effort, at first, to master Policeman’s Gait. That’s not an official designation, but rather one that I made up, in order to describe the very slow amble required when walking the beat. If you were on a two-hour patrol around town, you’d easily go round it twice if walking at a normal pace. Better to slow down; use less energy and take in the surroundings.
“That’s better. No rush.” I said. Lizzy nodded as she fell into step beside me.
Eliza was a very recent recruit and she was super keen. Bubbly and enthusiastic, she’d quickly endeared herself to the squad and – after several weeks of training and sitting behind a desktop – she was excited to be finally going out on the streets and it was down to me to show her the ropes.
We ambled along, making our way along the main road of a once prosperous area of the town that was becoming a bit run-down and now had an ethnic minority that was quickly becoming the majority.
We found a lone car, parked in the corner of an unlit parking area behind some of the shops. It didn’t look right and so we checked it out. It was locked and looked undamaged. “Do you know how to do a PNC check?” I asked Lizzy. She nodded an affirmation and immediately spoke into the radio microphone that was clipped to her jacket lapel. “Sixteen-Two-Three… can I have a PNC check please?”
“Sixteen Two-Three, go ahead”, said the male operator at the other end. Lizzy read out the vehicle registration number into the microphone and her face beamed a minute later when it was confirmed that we were standing in front of a silver Ford Escort that had been reported stolen the previous week. She looked at me and raised her eyebrows in a questioning “So, what next?” kind of way.
“There’s nothing much that you and I can do. Just tell them it’s here.”
“Well, it’s here”, she said into the radio.
“Er… OK” said the confused voice at the other end.
I laughed and took the microphone. “Sixteen Ninety. Vehicle is secure and is located behind the carpet shop off the main road.”
“Roger. Thank you.”
“Yeah, OK… I got it”, said Lizzy as we resumed our slow traipse up the road.
Once we’d reached the end of the road, we did an about-turn and started our slow trek back toward the station. We hadn’t gone very far when pedestrians in front of us suddenly started shouting at us and pointing back to where we’d just come from.
I turned to see flames coming from a building and a crowd gathering outside. I shouted into my radio as we ran back up the road: “Sixteen Ninety! We have a building on fire at the top end of the main road. Request back up and Fire Service!” Over the noise of our running and the commotion as we approached the building, I didn’t hear the response back from Control, but I assumed they were on it.
Part of the front of the building was ablaze. An onlooker told me he had seen someone put a petrol-bomb through the letterbox of the front door. There was no way we were going in there. We ran round to the back to find people exiting out of the rear fire doors… some of them were coughing and spluttering. I stopped one woman and asked her what was happening… were there more people inside?
She said there was.
I told Lizzy to try and keep people outside and stop them from wandering off as we might need witness statements and then I went into the building.
It wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined it would be – the fire was in the hallway, which was well ablaze, but someone had shut the door into the main area, preventing it from spreading in. Nonetheless, there was a fair amount of smoke making its way into the room from around the door and also through a small hole in the wall at about head height. I wondered briefly at how that hole might have come about but then dismissed it and continued further in.
The room was dimly lit. White fairy lights strung up on the walls were the only illumination, barely strong enough to cut through the increasing amount of smoke. A flickering yellow came in through the small glass window above the door that led out to the hallway.
The smoke was starting to fill the room and I held my handkerchief over my mouth with one hand, as I directed the half-a-dozen or so stragglers out toward the fire exit door where I had come in.
I cast a quick glance around the room to make sure it was clear and then noticed some movement in the corner. My eyes were now starting to stream from the smoke, but I made my way over to see what it was. Behind a couple of turntables and a small mixing desk, I saw a fellow scrabbling about on the floor. “Oi! C’mon”, I shouted, gesturing him to get up and come with me.
“I’m the DJ, man…” he shouted back, with a strong Jamaican accent. “I’ve got to save my records!”
“Sod your records!” I said loudly. I grabbed his arm and dragged him away toward the exit and out into the street.
Police backup had arrived in the form of two Panda cars and the occupants had jumped out and straightaway started corralling the crowd away from the door, so that the Fire Brigade – who had also just turned up – could get in there. I was pleased to see Rob, who immediately came up to me. “Having fun?” he said, with a grin.
The Fire Brigade did their stuff and witness statements were taken and then, just a few minutes later, a call came over the radio that a man fitting the description given, was seen running into the train station. Rob and his mate jumped into the car. “You coming?” he said.
“Too right!”.
Lizzy and I jumped in the back and Rob took off at speed. We were at the train station in under two minutes, I reckon.
A chap in a British Rail uniform pointed towards some concrete stairs that had a sign saying “To Platform 3”.
“He went down there”, he said, “about a minute ago”. The four of us charged down the stairs
It was empty, save for a small group of lads standing at one end and there were a few more on the platform opposite, who looked over with interest as we clattered onto the paltform.
“There he is!” shouted Rob, pointing toward the far end of the platform. I turned and looked to see a figure jump off the end of the platform and start running up the track. We all legged it up the platform and – as I had been nearest – I reached the end first. I jumped the three-feet from the platform to the ground and started to give chase, with super-keen Lizzy close behind me.
“Whoa! Whoa!” Rob shouted after us. “Get back here!” Our enthusiasm had got the better of us.
We trundled our way back and climbed back up onto the platform. “I could have caught him”, I moaned at Rob.
“Mate, not worth risking your life running up railways lines in the dark. Leave it, we’ll catch him at some point”.
I don’t know if they ever did.
Lizzy and I got a lift back to the station and sat in the canteen with a cup of tea whilst we made up our pocketbooks.
“So, enjoy your first night out?” I asked her.
She looked up from her writing with a grin like the Cheshire Cat.
“Is it like this every night?” she asked.
“No”, I replied. “Sometimes it can get quite busy.”
In the amateur radio world, there are a group of people who like to operate portable from places of interest and see how many contacts they can make from that location.
