Two tickets and a break in
Curious day on Sunday. I was out on the leafy suburbs beat, dodging the rain and ever so slightly bored out of my tiny little mind. Don’t ask me why we bother to do this beat on a Sunday because most of it is inactive restrictions which run Monday to Friday or Monday to Saturday. Notwithstanding, my masters decree that these streets must be patrolled so I heave a heavy sigh and go and do.
Fortunately for my averages this beat overlaps with one of the busier streets. Two of my forays into the more active area netted two people who had decided against all the evidence; that the restrictions did not apply to their cars on a Sunday. One on double yellows and another who chose to plant their vehicle on an area of yellow cross hatchings within a free car park marked ‘Restricted’ in four foot high letters. In a free car park, with half the bays free. Don’t ask me why, I’m beginning to stop being amazed at the continual stupidity of some members of the general public.
Now the interesting part of my day was back on the leafy suburbs beat. Just before four pm I’m meandering down one street and turn a corner. Half way down (About a hundred metres away), there are two youthful figures at the side of a vehicle who took one look at my looming bulk before legging it. My suspicions aroused I lengthened my stride and headed for the car they had shown such an interest in.
Thirty seconds later I took a look at a pile of smashed car safety glass on the kerbside. “CCTV this is 515.”
“Receiving 515.”
“I’m on Tolkein Avenue. There’s a vehicle with a smashed drivers side window, looks like someone’s tried to break in.”
“What makes you think that 515?”
“Broken glass on the driver and passenger seats and a pile of broken safety glass on the kerbside. There’s a broken bag of shopping on the back seat and it looks like the ignition’s been interfered with. The plastic cover around the steering column is cracked.” I reel off the damaged vehicles registration number and location.
“Roger that 515.” For once CCTV is right on the ball. “Dispatch are sending someone, you can move on.”
“One more thing.” I add. “Two kids hanging around the car when I turned the corner. They were too far off to get a decent look at but I can let you know what I saw.” I gave CCTV the details, such as they were, and passed on by.
An hour later, I pass the same spot and the car and most of the broken glass is gone. I presume the owner has returned and found the damage. Well at least if they phone the coppers they’ll find out it’s already been reported, for all the good that is. I only wish I could have gotten a closer look at the nasty little scrotes who did it. As things stand the car looked repairable and the driver hadn’t lost their groceries or radio, so I suppose it could have been worse.
As there is no CCTV coverage in Tolkein Avenue, it’s unlikely that the people who broke into the car will ever be caught and convicted without a spontaneous confession. I console myself thus; maybe the kids I saw were the people who had smashed the drivers side window and my presence prevented them doing worse.
Well, that thought brightened my day anyway.
Fortunately for my averages this beat overlaps with one of the busier streets. Two of my forays into the more active area netted two people who had decided against all the evidence; that the restrictions did not apply to their cars on a Sunday. One on double yellows and another who chose to plant their vehicle on an area of yellow cross hatchings within a free car park marked ‘Restricted’ in four foot high letters. In a free car park, with half the bays free. Don’t ask me why, I’m beginning to stop being amazed at the continual stupidity of some members of the general public.
Now the interesting part of my day was back on the leafy suburbs beat. Just before four pm I’m meandering down one street and turn a corner. Half way down (About a hundred metres away), there are two youthful figures at the side of a vehicle who took one look at my looming bulk before legging it. My suspicions aroused I lengthened my stride and headed for the car they had shown such an interest in.
Thirty seconds later I took a look at a pile of smashed car safety glass on the kerbside. “CCTV this is 515.”
“Receiving 515.”
“I’m on Tolkein Avenue. There’s a vehicle with a smashed drivers side window, looks like someone’s tried to break in.”
“What makes you think that 515?”
“Broken glass on the driver and passenger seats and a pile of broken safety glass on the kerbside. There’s a broken bag of shopping on the back seat and it looks like the ignition’s been interfered with. The plastic cover around the steering column is cracked.” I reel off the damaged vehicles registration number and location.
“Roger that 515.” For once CCTV is right on the ball. “Dispatch are sending someone, you can move on.”
“One more thing.” I add. “Two kids hanging around the car when I turned the corner. They were too far off to get a decent look at but I can let you know what I saw.” I gave CCTV the details, such as they were, and passed on by.
An hour later, I pass the same spot and the car and most of the broken glass is gone. I presume the owner has returned and found the damage. Well at least if they phone the coppers they’ll find out it’s already been reported, for all the good that is. I only wish I could have gotten a closer look at the nasty little scrotes who did it. As things stand the car looked repairable and the driver hadn’t lost their groceries or radio, so I suppose it could have been worse.
As there is no CCTV coverage in Tolkein Avenue, it’s unlikely that the people who broke into the car will ever be caught and convicted without a spontaneous confession. I console myself thus; maybe the kids I saw were the people who had smashed the drivers side window and my presence prevented them doing worse.
Well, that thought brightened my day anyway.
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