written by The general from Intelligence Detective.
These lot are what we deal with all day long.
The original post can be found http://intelligence-detective.blogspot.com/2006/07/chavspotting.html
Monthly Archive for July, 2006
written by Vic Mackey from Black Rover
If this post gets to you its a miracle.This weather is getting too much now and my laptop seems to hate it as much as I do, overheating and turning itself off every few minutes.
The evenings getting cooler now and its been on for a whole 10mins so far so I keep my fingers crossed I will have something to do this evening - TV suck recently.
I'm going to stick to night duties in this heat, at least they are bearable, unlike my police staff job where we are now the largest department in that area crammed into the smallest office with no air-con.
All comments are my own and not the opinion of my force. No part of this blog can be recreated or quoted without my express permision
The original post can be found http://black-rover.blogspot.com/2006/07/if-this-post-gets-to-you-its-miracle.html
written by Vic Mackey from Black Rover
Just a small introduction. I work in a city force as a special constable and police staff.I am a fairly new special (attested in February 2006) but have been serving as police staff since Oct 2002 so I'm not new to force bureaucracy, cost cutting, etc...
I wont be revealing too much about my police staff role as that will reveal to the powers that be who I am which at this stage I'd rather remain anonymous.
I'll try to post when I can so check back often.
All comments are my own and not the opinion of my force. No part of this blog can be recreated or quoted without my express permision
The original post can be found http://black-rover.blogspot.com/2006/07/just-small-introduction.html
written by The general from Intelligence Detective.
I see so much intelligence coming in about class A drugs it makes me laugh at times. If you lot knew the amount of drugs that get out there on the streets every day it would make your toes curl up. Man, someone somewhere is making a lot of moola to spend I tell you.The trouble is though, that there just aren't enough coppers around to target the dealers and users and the thing perpetuates.
The drug business has got so big and lucrative that it is in danger of eating itself like a big, hungry, crack smokin', fat thing.
The current "focus" is all about reducing and detecting burglary offences, vehicle crime and reducing violent crime and anti-social behaviour. Which is all well and good but the majority of those offences are committed by the smack rats and crack heads looking for the money to get a stone to burn off the foil or a hit of brown. It is colloquially called "ACQUISITIVE CRIME".
The police management and judiciary seem to favour the intervention and treatment/rehabilitation angle. They are no longer supportive of positive police action.
Me and my mates at work think this is shite quite frankly and for us enforcement is the rule of thumb. JAIL is the only option for these people who bring down the fabric of entire communities.
To get busted for cannabis dealing, it now seems you have to have at least a wheelbarrowful in your possession in order to even be recognised as involved in the business. For class A dealing to be proved, it seems you need to find a/ a massive quantity of drugs (preferably in the dealers hand) b/a long line of customers waiting for the dealer to deal and all of them willing to give you a witness statement telling you what they were there for. c/ huge piles of cash, bling, cars, swimming pools and villas in Spain. d/ten mobile phones going off with orders by text and picture. e/ a signed document with lists of names addresses and dates of birth of all your customers thereon and how much they owe you. Even then, the CPS might not charge.
I would tell you about a day in the life of a smack-head/crack head if you were interested? You should be, because there's one looking at your handbag right now, or clocking your fine car to jack or wandering round your street with his syringe in his top pocket waiting for you to go to work so he can empty your house of all the trinkets of your labor. Or the small gold watch you were given when your grandad died, which is the only thing you ever wanted, the one he had since he fought in the war for this great country. Or the old lady, who had her dead husbands wedding ring stolen after being married for 70 years or so.
Priceless things which are sold for a rock of crack, the effects of which normally last less than a minute.
Who's right?
The original post can be found http://intelligence-detective.blogspot.com/2006/07/smokin-crack-aint-cool-man.html
written by PC PotShot from Pocket Book Entry
I was on my way to a call that I can't even remember. I had put up for it from some distance and being a basic driver was nearing it as fast as I could possibly go according to the speed limit (and taking all the routes with higher speed limits). I then got a call to divert from there and attend the local hospital. Grief, I thought, as it was put over the PR that the incident required my special skills. I speak another language and I was probably needed as an interpreter. It was grief but not as I thought.On arrival, one of my colleagues explained what it was about. A child had been brought in and the parents did not speak English. And then he told me that the child had died from taking a fall from the stairway. Nothing suspicious in itself apart from the fact that the child had fallen from the very first step. The DS arrived and I stuck to him like glue. More information was forthcoming from the Paramedics and from the staff in Resuscitation in A&E (God bless them all). The information near the end was that it did not look suspicious. At this point, I had already phoned home about 3 times to speak with Mrs P to let her know I would be home late and also to speak to my little Princess P. The child was about 17 months old, about 8 months younger than Princess P. And then it was time to talk to the family. We went to the room where the child was and as we got there, the extended family was coming out and through the open door, I caught a glimpse of her lying on the bed and then the door was shut and I faced the father. My heart went out to him, he was being held upright and the pain was so bad that he was constantly clutching his heart. He had been crying and with the memory of the little child lying there and her father in front of me, I had to push back the tears.
We spoke and we explained the procedure we had to go through. The family asking me, 'Do you know what it feels like to be under suspicion after a tragedy?' and me explaining that it wasn't that but the fact we had to gather all evidence we could. We let the family go and went back to the station to write our notes and to book in the evidence collected. I was asked by the Guvnor if I would mind staying on and helping out the Child Protection Team as they had a few questions to ask. I did not mind at all and so went to the extended family's house where relatives had already come to mourn. Then upstairs in the bedroom, with mother and father and one relative who was also bilingual and both the CPT Guvnor and Skipper, the unbearable heat and me still in my body armour, the father told us the heart rending sequence of events of what had happened and how they tried to save their child while the mother tried in vain not to cry.
I'm glad I was sweating and I think it was that and not the tears that were stinging my eyes. And then it was over and time for us to go. I spoke to the CPT DS today and he confirmed the results of the post mortem that the incident was a freak accident and that there was no sign of anything suspicious at all.
Is that any consolation? That was the couple's only child and she was taken from them in an instant while they looked on helplessly. Even as I write this I can feel the tears in my eyes but I blink them back and selfish as it sounds, thank God that my precious bundle of joy is still here with me. My heart goes out to that family. A parent should never ever have out live their child. That call was grief.
The original post can be found http://pocketbookentry.blogspot.com/2006/07/calls-that-give-you-grief.html
