“Sarge? What are you doing?”

I sighed. Someone up there really has it in for me. Why do I always get the rawest of raw recruits to mentor? Didn’t they learn anything at Hendon?

“Constable, there are times when the rulebook is just not right. That’s when common sense is needed so that the problem can be solved with compassion.”

“Sarge? At the Police College, we were told that common sense has no part in law enforcement in the 21st Century.”

I smiled.

“Well Constable, what does your 'Police Academy' learning tell you about this situation?”

The comic reference went right over his head.

“Sarge?”

I shook my head.

“Constable, how would you deal with this situation?”

My partner stood up straight.

“Well Sir, I’d arrest the vagrant.”

“What would you charge them with?”

“Sir, it is clear that they are in breach of the 1946 Vagrancy Act, Section 3.”

“Indeed Constable. What is the punishment for that offense?”

“Sir, the maximum punishment is a fine of £5 per offense.”

“So, let me get this straight. Here we have someone who is clearly destitute and we, and by we, I mean the various parts of the Criminal Justice System will charge the destitute person a fine that they clearly can’t afford. Does this make sense to you?”

“Sir. At the College, we were told almost every day that we are not to question the wisdom of the law but to only uphold it.”

“And there, Constable is the problem with the Police College in a nutshell.”

“Sarge?”

“In my opinion, the people at Hendon are totally divorced from reality. In this case, the law would dictate a fine that the offender is clearly unable to pay. What happens next?”

“Sarge, a failure to pay a fine could result in a jail sentence being passed.”

“Exactly. And how much does it cost to have someone in jail per week?”

“Sarge, that is not for us to question.”

“Are the prisons overcrowded?”

“Yes, but again that is not our job. That is for the Home Office.”

“And who do we ultimately work for?”

“Err… Ultimately, the Home Office.”

“So, it is our job in the end despite what the people at Hendon say. That means we will exercise a little bit of discretion which god willing, can work wonders. We will not arrest or caution the person we are talking about. The moment we start the official language we lose any possible cooperation from them. Softly-softly is the way to go here. Are we clear?”

“Yes Sarge,” came the reply. I could tell that he wasn’t happy.

Before my new partner could respond I added.
“I suggest that you go and read the book ‘Catch-22’ and perhaps then you will see why applying the Vagrancy act in this case is a total waste of everyone’s time.”

“In the meantime, constable, we need to move this person on. We have had a complaint from the Embassy. Normally, this is a very safe place for people who live on the street to sleep. Why is that Constable?”

My partner looked bewildered.

“Firstly, all the walls of the Ambassadors, residence are covered by CCTV. I happen to know that this system is the very latest and gives excellent night vision.”

The bewilderment look got worse.

“Secondly, the guards at the entrance are armed. They are allowed to be armed as the property beyond those walls is not part of this country. It is a de-facto part of the country whose Ambassador lives there. The same goes for all foreign Embassies, Consulates, High Commissions and the residencies of the Ambassadors and the like. This is the same the world over. We can’t go inside those walls unless we are invited.”

“Come on Constable. Let us move this person on. I guess by the stream of cars parked in the road that there is a function going on inside the Residence. It would create a bad impression if the departing guests saw people sleeping so close to obvious wealth.”

We strode purposefully up to the gates of the Residence and asked for the watch officer.
A minute later an Army Captain appeared and announced himself.

“Captain, I’m Sergeant Pete Dawson and this is Constable Lewis. We are here to move the people sleeping against the wall on as per your request,” I said.

“Carry on Sergeant. Thank you for letting us know,” said the Captain.

I turned away with my constable in hot pursuit.

“Sarge?”

I stopped.

“Yes Constable.”

“Why did you talk to the guard?”

I shook my head.

“Constable, the wall is part of the residence and as I just said, it is technically foreign soil. You saw that the guard was armed. The last thing we need is for a diplomatic incident to happen. By informing the guard they will not think that we are trying to break in to the Residency. Do you want a round from a ‘semi-automatic’ coming your way?”

The Constable looked terrified.

“It is good manners to tell them what we are doing. Common courtesy. Yes, the Embassy and Residence are technically part of their country but outside, they are honoured guests in our country. In order to keep the diplomatic relationship between our two countries, we play ball with them and they play ball with us.”

I ignored him and approached the figure that was huddled up against the wall.

I crouched down and gently shook the figure.

The figure responded, “Fuck off!”

It seemed that the voice belonged to a woman.

“Sorry Luv. You need to move for a few hours.”

“This is my pitch.”

I put my hand on her shoulder and shook it again.

“I don’t want your pitch. I’m the Police.”

A head appeared from under a blanket.

The face was dirty. The hair a mess but I could see that underneath there was a nice face.

I quickly put that out of my mind.

“Come on Luv, it is just for a couple of hours. Then the party inside will be over and you can come back.”

She didn’t answer but started to move.

“Get a move on! We don’t have all night!” said the Constable.

I turned around and glared at him.
“That’s enough of that Constable. The young lady was already moving.”

I looked back and the young woman was standing up. She was shivering. That was understandable. The forecast was for a frost before dawn.

“Come on Luv, let me buy you a drink. There is an all-night café by the tube station down the road.”

My act of kindness went right over the head of the Constable. Firstly, it would get the rough sleeper moved on from the Residency boundary. Secondly, it would get the rough sleeper something hot to drink and with below zero temperatures forecast for later in the night, the last thing we wanted to do is deal with the dead body of said rough sleeper and thirdly, it was time for our mandated break so we could spend at least an hour in the warm of the Café and my trainee would just have to lump his doing things by the rules. The world does not run by following the rules. If it did then there would be no need for a Police Force now would there.

---

That night was the last time I saw her for almost a year.

The next time was in a far more difficult situation.

I was once more supervising a rookie Constable. Thankfully this one had a whole lot more ‘gumption’ than most but he was still very raw around the edges.

This time I was driving a marked patrol car on the fringes of London’s West End. We’d just turned onto Park Lane from Knightsbridge when the ANPR system dinged.

“What do I do Sarge?” said the Constable.
This was the Constable’s first shift in a marked car so I excused him being somewhat ignorant of procedure.

“What does it say on the screen?”

“The vehicle is on the system but is currently without Tax, Mot or Insurance.”

“Good. What do we do next?”

“Stop it?”

“In a minute. I can read the screen from here. There is a bigger problem.”

“Sarge?”

“Constable, read the vehicle description on the screen and then look at the car we are following.”

“They are not the same.”

“Good. Now we have another charge to throw at them. What do we do next?”

“Blues and Two’s?”

I smiled.

“Not yet. Firstly, that car can probably outrun us. It has at least two hundred horses under the bonnet while our car has less than one hundred. We will need some backup just to make things a tad more equal if he does floor it. Does this all make sense?”

I didn’t wait for his brain to work.

“Six-Five to Control.”

“Come in Six-Five.”

“ANPR has identified an Audi A6 on false plates. No Tax, MOT or Insurance. The Plates are registered to a VW Golf with an owner on Hackney. I will do a stop but can you get me some backup to run a TPAC?”

“Understood Six-Five. I have your position as Northbound on Park Lane just passing ‘The Dorchester’.”

“That is correct Control.”

“Four-Three is Southbound on Edgware Road.”

“Understood Control. They can take the lead.”

“Control out.”

“Sarge, why did you let another car take the lead?”

“Constable, there are two very experienced pursuit drivers in that car. They are also driving a much more capable car. Their call sign identifies them as a TPAC trained unit. This car can’t out run the car that we are following. I’m also not pursuit trained. That means legally and unless there are lives of people at risk, I can’t do more than a normal traffic stop. As the car has false plates then the rules of engagement mean that I have to get the traffic people to take over. We are there to help out should we be needed. Understand?”

He looked very unhappy.

“That’s life Constable,” I said with quite a sigh on my voice.
“But cheer up, we will go down in the records as the unit that initiated the action.”

We finally cleared the last set of traffic lights before Marble Arch.

“Let’s go. Light her up Constable.”

I switched on the siren and lights. As I’d expected, the car that we were following, took off.

Twenty minutes later, the car was ‘TPAC’d in by three other cars on the Outer Circle of Regents Park almost at the entrance to London Zoo.

We arrived just as the driver was being hauled out of the Audi. As I pulled up, I said to my Constable.

“Constable Johnson, as this is your first incident like this you are to look, listen and understand what is going on. Don’t say anything unless you are asked. Are you perfectly clear with that?”

“Yes Sarge.”

“Good.”

My colleagues had things pretty well under control. The Driver was not a happy bunny. He had just had one answer of ‘No Comment’ to any of the questions being put to him. That was probably a wise decision.

I was about to leave it to the other cars when I felt a tug on my arm. I turned around and it was Constable Simms.

“Constable?”

“Sarge? Has anyone looked in the boot of the Audi?”

He was right. No one had really examined the inside of the car at this point in time.

“Well spotted Constable.”

He stood rooted to the spot.

“What are you waiting for?”

He moved and I followed him.

“Go and release the boot from inside. Don’t forget to put your gloves on.”

I waited for him put some gloves on and then to release the boot lid and come around to the rear of the car. While I was waiting, I also put on some latex gloves.

When the Constable was at my side, I opened the lid of the boot. Boy, did I get a shock.

Inside was a body. At first, I thought that it was a dead body but a quiet groan convinced me otherwise.
The head was covered by a dirty blanket. I pulled it down and got the second shock of the night. I recognised the dirty face.

“Sarge?” said my Constable.

“Shut the fuck up Constable. This is more serious than you can imagine.”

I got onto the radio.

“Six Five to Control.”

“Control to Six Five.”

“Control, we need a female officer, SOCO and the medics at our location. There is a hostage in the boot of the suspect car that was TPAC’d. It seems to be a female hostage.”

“Control to Six Five, Understood. Out.”

I turned to my Constable and pulled the lid of the boot down but didn’t close it.
“Stand guard while I tell the others. There is a lot more going on here than it appears.”

“Sarge?”

“Just do as I say. I will give you the lowdown later.”

He nodded his head.

I went over and found the other Sergeant and pulled him to one side.

“Bill, we have a live body in the boot. Don’t react. Just get that driver out of here and tell the others to keep their traps shut.”

The other Sergeant, Bill Sampson knew me of old. We went through Hendon together.

“I’ve called for a female officer, SOCO and the Medics. You’d better alert CID. I suggest taking that scumbag to Edgware Road.”

Edgware Road Police Station is where the really bad guys, terrorists and the rest are taken. It is highly secure with most of it deep underground.

“That bad eh?”

“The woman in the back is known to me.”

I didn’t need to say anything else. He knew me as a man of few words.

“Gotcha.”

Within a few minutes, the driver had been taken away in a car and two of the other cars had gone off to other calls. That left just the constable and myself.

“Go and get some water from the car,” I said to the rookie.

He didn’t argue and left me alone.

I opened the boot and gently moved some hair that was lying over her face. She groaned and opened her eyes.

“Take it easy. Help is on its way.”

She mumbled something.

“I said take it easy. The driver is in custody. It is just you, me and my Constable. A female officer is on her way.”

She lifted up her hands. I could see that they were taped together.

“The forensic people will be here soon. They’ll get you out of here. Then we will take you somewhere safe. Understand?”

Her lips were cracked and parched.

The Constable handed me a bottle of water. I moistened her lips.

“Don’t talk. Just take a few sips.”

I gently fed her some water. After a little bit, she managed what I thought was a small smile.

A few minutes later, an Ambulance and two other cars arrived. I breathed a sigh of relief as Detective Sergeant Jayne Avis got out of one of the cars. She was a friend and very good at her job.

The other car contained the duty SOCO team.

I turned to the woman in the boot.
“This is Detective Sergeant Jayne Avis. She’s going to be with you when the medics take you to Hospital for a check-up. But first the forensic people need to do their thing. In a few minutes, you will be out of there. Understand?”

She nodded.

“Good. I’ll see you later ok?”

She managed half a smile.

I let the cavalry take charge and stepped away.

“Sarge?” asked my Constable.

“Not a word more, understand? Lets’ get out of here and take our break. My shout.”

He took the hint and we drove away just as the tow truck arrived to take the car away.

---

I took us to a Coffee and Burger wagon in Kentish Town. This was off our patch but that was good. We were less likely to be interrupted during out meal break once control knew that we were out of operational area.

“Now Constable, we can talk,” I said as I handed him a cup of hot Coffee and walked a few yards away from the van.

“I know the victim. She has been on the streets for over a year and we have run into each other from time to time. I’ve bought her a meal and some clothes from a charity shop. Before you think that we have more than that between us, you should know that she’s a lesbian. I just like the smile on her face when she gets treated nice.”

“Message understood Sarge.”

“Good. Now I saw that she’d been branded.”

“Branded?”
“Yes. She has a tattoo on her neck. That says that she is the property of an Albanian gang. They traffic women. That driver also had the tat. My guess is that she was probably on her way to being sold into the sex traffic. Do you get my thread here?”

“I think so Sarge,” he replied hesitantly.

“That’s good. Now you have to let the other teams deal with this. As they say on US TV shows, this is beyond your pay grade and mine as well. You will forget what went down tonight once you have written it all up in your logbook.”

“Sarge?”

“No Constable, that is a direct order. If I hear that you have blabbed one word of this then your career in the Met will be over before it starts. The less people who know what went down here the better. Other lives could be put in danger.”

That last bit was a bit of a longshot but given the threat from the various gangs it would not put it beyond belief that we had people undercover inside those gangs.

“This is nothing more than an ANPR related stop. That’s what you will put in your log. For us, that is what it is. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The constable looked terrified.

“No need to look so scared. We can’t dwell on the things we see and do. If we did then we’ll all be needing to spend a lot of time in padded rooms in no time at all. Learn to let things go and move onto the next job. What’s done is done and as long as you did the right thing and that includes using your common sense then you can sign off knowing that you have made a difference and that is what this job is all about.”

“I think I understand.”

I smiled.

“Don’t worry if it all seems a bit different to the picture painted on the TV or at the Police College. A lot of our job is boring and even downright tedious but it needs to be done. Like tonight, I backed off trying to stop that car for good reasons. In time making that sort of judgement becomes second nature.”

He smiled back at me.
“Sort of like not picking a fight that you can’t win?”

“Yes, but sometimes you don’t have a choice. Then you just do your best in order to protect the public.”
He nodded his understanding back to me.

I thought to myself, ‘this one might actually make the grade’.

“Good. It is time for us to get back on patrol. We still have three hours before we are done for the night.”

When we’d finished our shift, I let my Constable disappear before going upstairs and into the CID office.

DS Avis was sitting at her desk. She saw me come into the room and waved me over.

“I was wondering when we’d see you up here.”

“There are some lose ends aren’t there?”

“More like a huge can of worms. That stupid driver had his SatNav recording where he went and when. That is going to be very useful. I guess some thanks are in order for picking up that car in the first place.”

“Just happened to be in the right place at the right time that’s all,” I replied trying to suppress the smile on my face.

She sat back in her chair.
“I hear you refused that Inspector’s slot in Hampstead?”

“Yeah. I prefer being a PLOD on the ground. I’m not really the managerial type.”

She shook her head.
“Never thought of coming over to the ‘dark side’?”

“Nah. Too much paperwork.”

She laughed.

Then the smile disappeared from her face.
“I suppose you want to know how she’s getting on?”

“If you have an update than it would be most welcome.”

“She’s been through the wringer. Three broken ribs and multiple bruises.”

“Poor girl.”

She nodded.

“You know about her downstairs then?”

“Yes. She and I have met a few times before. It is amazing what a meal and something hot to drink does for someone. She told me why she was on the streets.”

Then after a bit of a pause I added,
“I guess that I felt a bit sorry for her. Before you think otherwise, I was never alone with her. I always had my ‘rookie’ with me when I came upon her. I’m also old enough to be her father.”

Jayne smiled. She’d been my first ‘rookie’ when I was made up to Sergeant.

“What’s going to happen to her?”

“Serious Crimes is taking this over. She seems willing enough to give a proper statement if we get that tattoo removed.”

I smiled. That seemed cheap.

“Does she know that she can’t go back on the streets?”

“Yes. I’m trying to get her into protection at least until the trial.”

“You don’t seem too hopeful?”

“With all these budget cuts that the Home Office is handing down there is very little in the pot for someone like her. At the very least, she needs relocating to another town or city after the trial.”

“Thanks for that but until the trial? Always assuming that the CPS charge the driver?”

Jayne smiled.

“Oh, they’ll charge him all right. SOCO found 20kg’s of what looks like almost pure Heroin inside the door lining. Well, to use their phrasing, ‘we opened the door and the panel fell off’”.

Then she added,
“I’m preparing the charge sheet to go to the CPS right now. What with Kidnap, false imprisonment, actual bodily harm, drug trafficking, and the rest, I’d say that he’d be lucky to get less than a twelve stretch.”

“And be out in five. Hardly seems appropriate really.”

“And be out in five and onto a plane to Tirana the next day.”

“Small mercies.”

Then I added,
“Keep me in the loop when it comes to her protection after the trial.”

“You, sly bugger, you are interested in her,” she joked.

“Jayne, you should know me better than that. I don’t want to see her back on the streets particularly not in London. Those Albanians will be out for revenge. The don’t like losing merchandise and they will want it back.”

“I know. Yes, I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Thanks Jayne.”

“Don’t thank me you, old bugger. You trained me too well. I might have moaned and bitched at times but at times like this, I still ask myself, ‘what would the Sarge have done?’”

I left her with both of us smiling. At least a few of the many words of wisdom I’d sent her way in her time with me, had stuck.
She was a real bright spark and destined for high places in the Met or even Chief at another force if she played her cards right.

[to be continued on Part 2 of 4]