A confidential report

Wetherby here: Inspector Wetherby, West Brentshire Constabulary. It should have been CHIEF Inspector by now - but I wouldn’t join the Masons. It’s not just because I am a Roman Catholic – I’m well lapsed. Nor is it because I would feel ridiculous with my trouser leg rolled up and my breast bare – heaven knows, in my time I’ve … but never mind that now.
No, it is because I do not believe in secret societies, no matter how much they might further one’s career.

They talk about me in the station, you know. ‘He’s been passed over more times than the Red Sea’ – that’s what they say, behind my back. In fact that’s what caused the nervous breakdown: six weeks in a private clinic in Swindon – and I’m still not well. They tried to tell me I was suffering from ‘paranoia - aggravated by an unusually high alcohol consumption.’ Cheeky buggers.

But I digress. I have been given access to this blog by my dear friend (and, at the moment, unfortunately - prisoner) Georgina Turner.
Have you ever been in a police cell? It is not a pleasant experience – even I find it quite distressing when I have to visit occupants of the ‘lock-ups’ (as we call them) to help jog their memories.

Anyway, to ‘cut to the chase’ as they say, nowadays: Georgina has asked me to tell you that she is keeping up her spirits despite her parlous situation – and is optimistic of a favourable outcome. I am doing everything in my power to make her stay here as comfortable as possible: ensuring she has a supply of books, writing materials, fluffy lavatory paper… that sort of thing.

Naturally I am not at liberty (bad choice of words) to give you the details of the charges pending against my friend. But I can say that the most serious is to do with harbouring illegal immigrants. It’s a sore point these days: the government is fed up of getting a battering in the press every day. And that report of two of them working as cleaners in the Home Office - well, you can imagine the stink that caused. So we’ve got to make an example of somebody.

I don’t know what’s happening to our two ‘illegals’ – Immigration hauled them off to Paddington Green Maximum Security Facility. Well it’s all this terrorism scare isn’t it. Personally I don’t think these two are terrorists. The Swede, of course, I know quite well. I almost got to know her a lot better one night in Sainsbury’s car park, but a 999-call put paid to that. Truly, “A policeman’s lot is not a happy one.”

The other one – the German – looks like a Bader-Meinhof reject. If she’s a terrorist I’m a pantomime dame! (Actually I was a pantomime dame once – only an amateur production of course, but I got good reviews) Where was I….? Oh yes - the ‘firearm’ that all the fuss was about? Turned out to be a replica Luger, didn’t it - the sort you can buy down Chapman’s Arcade any day of the week. In fact I got one for my young nephew Timothy’s sixth birthday. He goes round ‘shooting’ everybody – bless him.

The fat woman: we’re doing her for assaulting a police officer: PC Williams. Actually, Tyrone is black and we thought we could have got her on a charge of racial abuse as well. But the CPS says No. Damn shame that.

As for that dopey lad (Sydney) and his girlfriend – we’re not even looking for them. Don’t tell anyone though.

But to get back to Georgina – which I am about to do when I’ve finished my mug of cocoa – I am sure she will be all right. She’s seeing her brief in the morning: Harry Sheene. He could get Stevie Wonder a driving licence!