Page Thirty One - Be Vewy, Vewy Qwiet (Copcast #146)

Tales From George's Pocketbook

"Unit to deal please, suspects on, 14 Richmond street".

Suspects on. Those two words in a radio message, guaranteed to make all police officers ears twitch. The thrill of the chase, you can't beat it. George called up “Mike14, show me en-route, ETA three minutes". He flicked the blues on and floored the accelerator pedal. The Ford Focus diesel clattered into life, the two tones wailing at the rush hour traffic. His probationer held onto the FM handle, a look of fear and a mad grin spreading across his face, his first blue light run, hopefully memorable for all the right reasons.

The traffic parted in front of them and they had a clear path, in his mirror George could see two other units behind them in the distance, neither were response drivers and they were doing their best to make way through the traffic. He could also hear a dog unit call up, offering their services and realised they were after his quarry, but he was absolutely determined that no one was going to get to his prey before him. They arrived on scene in just under the three minutes, the dog unit arrived immediately after. The informant was clearly upset. "I arrived home and I noticed my kitchen door was open, I think I saw someone run out of the back. My laptop was dropped on the back step".

The dog unit was deployed and quickly picked up a scent. Just behind the burgled house was a row of three partly built houses and the dog was now very excited, barking and circling around close to one of them.

"Police dog! Come out or the dog comes in!" shouted the dog handler, there was no reply from inside the unfinished building. The dog unit went in and came back out five minutes later, "No trace on the ground floor, I can't get the dog up to the first floor because the staircase isn’t finished". George went in and could see that the loft hatch was hanging down. They then had a brief discussion about deploying the dog by shoving it up the unfinished stairs, "Not a chance, too risky, the dog could get hurt" said the dog handler.

George and his probationer, who was now dragging a Dragon Lamp a Public Order shield and a NATO helmet behind him, climbed up to the next floor and then heard a noise from the loft. By now other units had arrived and one of them came back with a stepladder. Being the biggest and most experienced everyone decided George was going up first. If Billy burglar was up there, the sight of him dressed up as Darth Vader with baton, NATO helmet and shield might make him think twice about playing up.

Again they called "Police dog! Come out or the dog comes up!" Still no response so George squeezed through the hatch and gingerly searched the loft with the Dragon Lamp. Nothing. He shouted again, this time he saw the loft insulation twitch in a corner. George crept over toward where he saw the movement feeling rather like Elmer Fudd, the words “Stay vewy vewy qwiet” going over and over in his head he went. He heard his probationer struggling through the loft hatch, following behind him. He gave the insulation a prod with his baton and felt something hard. A firmer prod and something squealed. Got him, “dat sqwewy wabbid” in the form of 'Billy Burglar' was unceremoniously hauled up by his tee shirt. No older than 15 years, covered in dust and fiber from the loft insulation he was directed to the loft hatch where he was arrested by George for burglary before anybody else could say the magic words.

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