There were always complaints from the public about gypsies ripping them off.
A favourite that often took place in the long old rows of terraced houses with the Welsh slate roof tiles must have earned a few quid in a short space of time. The ruse was practised time and again without fail. Sometimes people complained but very often they were not aware that they had been duped until long after.
A young Gypsy would climb up to the roof at one end of a terrace block. He would find a lose slate and deftly remove it. His mate down on the road would knock on the householder’s door and say something like; “We was just working on your neighbours roof and noticed that you have a tile missing missus. We’ll fix it for you while were here and only charge you a few quid. Ah! it’s a good job we noticed that! If that had come down it could have caused a nasty accident to a small child or maybe an old person. The rain could have got in and done all sorts of damage! You could even have been sued! But we’ll have it fixed in a minute for you if you like, and save you some money. We have some like it in the van! It’s a good job we were working up there!”
And the patter would go on not allowing the householder time to think. They would part with a five pound note gratefully. The gypsy would move to next doors roof probably at the back this time and proclaim; “We were working on your neighbour’s roof…”
They would go along the whole row of terraced houses working from the back of the roof to the front.
If the neighbours got talking and realised, they had been ripped off they would complain to the police but could not supply any details other than a Gypsy with an Irish accent who they wouldn’t recognise again. No truck details and so forth.
But they expected the Police to DO something!
Shift Patterns
We had the worst shift patterns ever inflicted upon mankind.
7 nights from Monday10:00 hours until 06:00 hours finish Monday morning at 06:00 (if you didn’t have an arrest etc).
Monday & Tuesday was rest days.
Wednesday for 5 days from14:00 hours until 10:00 then quick change back Monday morning on duty at 06:00 hours for Monday and Tuesday.
Wednesday & Thursday rest days
Then Friday and Saturday 06:00 hours until 14:00 then Sunday and Monday14:00 until 22:00
Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday 06:00 until 14:00
Then the only weekend off in a month.
I recall being on one first watch when we were seated after muster parade (we were near the sea) and were being briefed when suddenly the door to the parade room burst open and a very startled young man in half blues with house slippers on his feet came in stuttering his apologies for being late and then stopping dead and saying, “I don’t think that I’m supposed to be here!” He turned tale and fled. No one laughed, those shifts did that to you.
Football Overtime
Football figured in quite a few incidents especially when certain visiting teams with a name for violence visited to play the locals. Shops boarded up their fronts, police horses came out on parade. It was amazing how those horses developed their second sense. Standing on yobs feet soon quieted them, backing others into walls to cut them off from their mouthy friends. And never a word from the rider.
Saturday afternoon was a time when those on first watch would put their names down for a bit of overtime. Mr Grumpy was one of them we were poorly paid. This particular Saturday morning at about 12:30 hours we were directed to a small grocer’s store where a little old lady had been detained leaving without paying for a tin of salmon. My first shoplifter! But it meant that I would have to take her to the station process her and interview her, get a statement, fingerprints, photographs, etc. Mr Grumpy did not want to miss his football overtime. So, he quietly spoke to the shopkeeper and persuaded him that she would only have her wrist slapped and that he could caution her there officially warning her to stay away from the shop and tell her that next time it would mean Court and possibly prison. After all, she was an old lady, and so on…
Grumpy told me what to write in my pocketbook and got a signature from the old lady and from the reluctant shopkeeper. The tin of salmon was returned to the self, and we went on our way. What Mr Grumpy had not found out was that the little old lady was a frequent shoplifter in that shop.
The shopkeeper wasn’t placated, he was soon on the phone to the station to ask for the officer in charge. At the end of the shift I was called into the Chief Inspectors office. My pocket book examined, I was asked the sequence of events. I outlined them and left to go home. Mr grumpy later also called in by the Chief Inspector and unknown to me was read the riot act regarding his procedure. He never said a word to me.
Some Dogs like licking Tarmac…
The most humorous of tricks that I was told of was the Gypsy pickup truck with tarmac on board. A group of men would buy tarmac and drive around an area looking for badly maintained driveways. They would then knock on the door of the householder and explain that they had been working nearby but found themselves with some tarmac left over. They noticed that their driveway needed tidying up a bit and for a favourable price they could redress their drive for them. One of the funniest that I ever remember was a householder stopping me while I was on patrol to make a complaint about such a group of men.
I had to ask how he found out that he had been done?
He told me that his Collie dog kept licking the tarmac driveway. When I asked what he was licking, he told me that the gypsy had offered to spread a few white stone Chipping’s among the tarmac to show it off when he laid it. Thrilled at the idea he paid extra for the white chipping’s. These turned out to be crushed Polo mints. When it rained, they melted and then the dog found them. It seems that Dogs like soft gooey Polo mints even if mixed with tarmac. The resourceful gypsy had long, long gone.
BYE FOR NOW