The Sea, Oh the Sea

The Station Beano to Brighton.......

A 'Beano' in London is what used to be called an outing to the seaside or somewhere similar. These days, people just jump in a car and are there in about an hour but back in the 60's there were no motorways to the coast, little or no money and very few, if any, of us had cars.  We hired a coach for such trips. So a Beano was something to look forward to. In fact, we used to save up for these special events.................

There were several savings clubs at each station (2/6 – half-a crown a month).  One in particular at our station was the infamous 'Brighton Trip'. We used to save up for months before it and when the actual day arrived, the excitement was electric.   It is unbelievable to think in this day and age how truly excited we became at the prospect of a trip to the seaside a mere 60 miles away.   You would have thought that we were destined for the French Riviera..

Over the years since, I have become quite fond of Brighton and have camped there several times when the children were young.   It is now quite a commercial city and a really nice place to visit.   In those days it was far from it as it was still trying to survive on its memories of the glory days when it was the haunt of Kings, Queens and other members of the Royal Family.   My son and his family now live there and we visit regularly.

There was a royal residence there going back to the late 1700’s which was renovated around 1815.   King George lV was a regular visitor who took part in the wild life that is reputed to have taken place there.   However, Queen Victoria hated it and refused to stay there with her large family.   Over the years the Indian style buildings began to deteriorate and crumble.  

In 1966 the city, the residence and other buildings were grotty and in need of restoration.    This was done in the 80’s and truthfully, the vast building is now supposedly back to its former glory. 

                                                        

Enough about that, let us return to my little story:

My first trip was when I had been in London for a mere five months.   It was July 1966 and as I had not seen the sea since I left home  in Ireland I therefore took my fishing tackle with me whilst the others intended to visit the local race course.  

Bright and early, about 7.30am everything started at our police station where most of the people who were going were congregated. Publicans were welcome, and woe betide if one was not invited, be it because he was forgotten or otherwise, because the landlord would be in fear that he was being targeted for a raid by the local Superintendent for after hours drinking or something similar.

We stopped at several pubs in the locality before actually moving off, and the luggage areas of the coaches were loaded, and I really mean loaded, with beer, spirits and food, in particular bowls and bowls of jellied eels. Drinking started as soon as you got on the coach and because of my inexperience and incapacity to drink spirits, I was very drunk before we even reached London Bridge a mere half hour and five miles away.

I don't remember much after that, other than I did not go to the races but stayed all day on the long pier. It was the first time I had seen the sea since leaving Ireland, and what with the gin and the feeling of homesickness, I sat there crying my heart out all day......................

On the return journey, we stopped at a large pub south of London which was owned by a retired police officer.    We drank ourselves sober, then got drunk again.   It was there that I saw my first striptease.   I could not believe my eyes but during the course of the act I needed a pee.   I held on until the really big lady had finished and ran to the toilet. 

As I was returning, there she was in all her glory in a passageway actually putting her clothes on.   I stood and watched and can say quite categorically that ‘it’ was even better than the earlier stripping.

Talking about saving for the Beanos: even for fishing trips, we had to save up. An ordinary boat trip cost twenty-five shillings, five shillings for bait and five shillings for petrol. Total: almost two pounds........

I was only earning, or at least taking home sixteen pounds a week, so you understand it was comparatively expensive. In the summer, there was an extra special fishing trip to Deal on the South Coast in Kent, by coach with prizes on offer. This cost a little extra...................

On pay-day, I gave Her Ladyship, my wife, two pounds extra to keep safe for the trip. As the day arrived I was really worked up with excitement. We met and left in the coach. I had no extra money for a drink or anything else other than one shilling, which she had managed to keep aside.

The competition was a disaster with little or no fish being caught and when afterwards, the organiser invited us into a local fishermen’s club where beer was on sale, I was truly financially embarrassed.

With a shilling, or five new pence in my pocket, I could I suppose, if I had wished, bought half a pint of beer, but that would only have been a teaser. I saw a slot machine and decided that I would have a go. In went sixpence. I pulled the arm.  Lots of noises.................. It stopped....................... Nothing. .

In went the other sixpence, my last....... I pressed the button. Again lots of noises. Lots and lots more noises. Locals jump up and shout ˜Press that button there". Not knowing why, I did and then began the magical sound. Loads and loads of money. It just kept coming. Five pounds in two shilling pieces (10p's). I could have cried with delight.

After about four quick pints of beer, I bought another six bottles for the journey home. I did not feel drunk; I was absolutely delighted and elated.

And best of all, when I got home, I gave Her Ladyship two pounds ˜to get herself something nice".

The end to a perfect day......................

------------Mike-----------

Abra-Cadaver

Burke and Hare…the Body-Snatchers....

In the early 1800’s in Britain, medical science was proceeding at an ever-increasing rate with great advances being made in surgical techniques. Many new types of operations were being ‘practised’ on dead bodies by budding surgeons and their teachers. The prisons, where there were many hangings on almost a daily basis, provided most of those bodies for dissection. There was little or no shortage for the trainees....

However, early in the century, what was known as the ‘Bloody Code’ was repealed.   Since 1688, it had made the punishment for fifty criminal offences death by hanging.   However, The Judgement of Death Act 1823 reduced this punishment from the original fifty down to two – Murder and Treason.   Needless to say, this caused a rapid sharp decrease in the number of executions and with it the number of bodies that were available.   A new source was urgently required......

The law of ‘supply and demand’ quickly came into play with characters that became known as ‘Resurrectionists’ taking up the gruesome art of ‘body-snatching’. They would watch out for funerals and later at night they would literally dig up the coffins, remove the body and in many cases return the coffin to the grave and fill in the hole. In order to prevent such a thing happening many relatives or friends of the deceased would hold a vigil and stand guard over the grave for several nights after the burial. In many other cases, iron railings protected the graves.

As even grave robbing prevented the surgeons and their students from having a regular supply of bodies, once again the law of ‘supply and demand’ again took over to provide for the shortage. Several unscrupulous people, not only men but these also included women, decided to not even wait for the funeral but began claiming the bodies before the person even died.

Burke and Hare were two such likely-lads who were born in the North of Ireland and moved to Scotland about 1820.  William Burke was born in County Tyrone in 1792 and was a ‘Jack of all Trades’. He left his wife and two children in Ireland and moved to Scotland about 1817. He was working as a ‘navvy’ on the Union Canal when he met and began living with Helen MacDougal. He began working at different types of jobs and they moved into a lodging-house in Edinburgh, which was owned by Hare, a fellow Irishman who lived with Maggie Laird. 

William Hare was born about 1800, probably in Newry or Derry in Northern Ireland. He too immigrated to Scotland and worked on the Union Canal. He moved to Edinburgh where he met a man named Logue. Logue died in 1826 and Hare moved in with his widow as his common-law-wife and they ran a lodging house. It was to this house that Burke moved. It is probable that they already knew each other from their Canal work.

It was around 1827 that the pair began their campaign, which became known as the West Port Murders. By the time they had finished they had killed 17 people and sold the bodies to Professor Robert Knox, a leading Edinburgh anatomist at the Edinburgh Medical College.

Hare later admitted that their first body was that of a dead tenant, an army pensioner who owed Hare £4 rent. They stole the body from its coffin and sold it to Professor Knox for £7. This was their first meeting with Knox who must have let them know that there was a ready market for such bodies.

As their murderous scheme progressed, with the help of the women, they would ply their proposed victim, usually any sickly tenant, with whisky and then suffocate them. The professor paid £15 for such bodies ‘as they were fresh’. When they ran out of such tenants, the women would lure proposed victims from the street, do likewise with the whiskey, and then suffocate them.

One of their next victims was a well-known local prostitute, Mary Patterson. They did the usual with her but problems arose the next morning when students at the College recognised the victim. Some of them were well acquainted with good old Mary and her trade.....

Vagrants and beggars were the most common victims, as Burke and Hare believed, rightly in many of the cases, that such people would not be missed or recognised. On another occasion Burke ‘saved’ a woman from the police by claiming that he knew her. She too appeared at the College a few hours later. An old woman and a deaf boy were the next two victims but when there was a shortage, they even went as far as murdering one of MacDougal’s relatives.

Two more prostitutes quickly followed but the murders almost came to light when they murdered a well-known retarded young man with a limp. He was called ‘Daft Jamie’ who was eighteen at the time.

When Professor Knox uncovered the body the next morning, several students recognised the young man. Knox quickly removed the head and feet and totally denied that it was Jamie. It appears that he then began to dissect the face to totally prevent identification………….

Their final victim was Marjory Docherty. Burke lured her into the house by claiming that his mother’s family was called Docherty. Another couple called Gray met her at the lodgings. The next morning, Mrs. Gray became suspicious when Burke would not allow her to approach a bed where she had left her stockings. When Burke went out, Mrs. Gray discovered Marjory’s body under the bed. On their way to the police to report the matter, they met MacDougal who offered them £10 per week to remain quiet. They refused and continued to the police station……………….

MacDougal quickly informed Burke and Hare who removed the body from the house before the police arrived. They were all questioned but their stories of Docherty did not tally. They were arrested. It was then that the police received an anonymous tip-off that led them to Knox’s classroom where they found the missing body. The Gray’s identified it. Hare and Burke’s wives were then arrested.

Although they had murdered seventeen people over the previous eighteen months the prosecuting authorities did not consider that there was sufficient evidence to obtain a conviction. They made an offer to William Hare of immunity if he ‘turned Queen’s evidence’ and testified against Burke. That evidence led to Burke being convicted and sentenced to death by hanging. Professor Knox never faced prosecution, as there was no evidence that he had known the origin of the corpses.

Helen MacDougal was almost lynched when she returned to the lodging house. She is supposed to have immigrated to Australia. Margaret Hare is supposed to have returned to Ireland when she too was almost lynched. William Burke was hanged in Edinburgh on 28^th January 1829……………...

William Hare was released in February 1829 and his following years are unknown. There was a story about him being a blind beggar in London having been thrown into a lime pit in Scotland but this was never confirmed.

A couple of strange facts regarding Burke after his execution are that his body was passed to the Royal College of Surgeons in Edinburgh for research. His skeleton remains there to this day. His ‘death mask’ is also retained at the College. For some unknown reason there is also a book, the cover of which is alleged to have been made from his skin. A similar business card case made from his skin is also present.

Perhaps Professor Knox or one of his students was having the last laugh on Burke……

For years afterwards, and who knows, probably still today, Scottish children sing the following rhyme when playing hopscotch or skipping:

Burke the Butcher,

Hare the Thief,

Knox the boy who Buys the Beef.

------Mike------

A Giant of a Man

                                                         A Tall Tale.....

Before I came to London to join the Police Service, I had to complete several tests back home in Ireland at our local Police Station.   I did an examination which I found quite easy.   I had to have a medical examination including dental.   I passed with flying colours.   It was then I came to the crucial test.  

You see, the height restriction in those days, 1966, was five feet eight inches and as even after numerous stretching exercises, I could not make myself any taller than my five feet seven and a half inches.   I practiced the stretching exercises for weeks without any improvement.

Oddly enough, the measurement certificate was the final part of the examination in Ireland.

I attended the police station and spoke with Sergeant Cleary.   He was a gentleman and a personal friend of my father.    ‘And how tall do you have to be Michael?’ he asked.   ‘Five feet eight inches Sergeant’ I replied.   He did not measure me but took the form and as he wrote on it, he muttered ‘Aw feck it Michael, sure we will make you six feet one inch to be on the safe side’.    He completed the form and I sent it away to the recruitment centre in London.

Sergeant Cleary in the centre

After a couple of months, I was called over to London where I sat the entrance examination which incidentally was identical to that which I had completed in Ireland.  It was even easier the second time around.

As I passed through the many tests, the group of applicants was being reduced by those who failed, by well over seventy-five percent.   I was amazed that I still remained in the passing group but dreaded the upcoming height test.   Again it was the last test.

As I approached the person making the measurements and as I was bare-footed I doubted that I would even reach my normal five feet seven and a half inches.   As I stood on the mark, the examiner suddenly said ‘Oopse a daisy’ as I raised my head and he continued ‘Five feet eight inches’.   I was delighted and later that day I was informed that I had been successful in passing the entrance.

In actual fact, my height never caused me any problem during the first couple of years service and it was about three years later that the height requirement was abolished.   It was due to the fact that Asian men and women only averaged five feet six inches or less.

When I said it caused me no problem, I should explain that the City of London – as distinct from the Metropolitan – had a height requirement of six feet.   Many of their officers were well over six feet and many closer to seven.

At one period there was a very violent strike on the borders between the City and the Metropolitan.   The City had their officers whilst the Met had equal numbers.   They would push the demonstrators onto our patch and we in turn would push them back onto theirs.   It went on for months.

Two City officers, and I swear they stood about seven feet tall and weighted close to twenty stone each used to search me out.   They called me ‘Paddy the Metrognome’ and put their arms under my shoulders and walked around with me.   There I was with my feet dangling a couple of feet off the ground.

My final word on height is that if it was ever mentioned by other officers I used to claim that I ‘got in’ by using my brains and to hell with the half-inch.   I never mentioned Sergeant Cleary and his six feet one inch certificate.............

------Mike------

Judge Not, Lest Ye be Judged

Crown Court Judges and Juries........

As I said in my last post about courts, young inexperienced police officers all dread the first time they give evidence at Court.  At Magistrates Court it is not too bad as the Magistrate, in most large cities is a Stipendiary – or should I say a ‘Professional’ who try to help new officers.   Where there are Benches – trained voluntary magistrates, who can be difficult unless there is a good clerk of the court to assist.

When I started my police service in 1966 we had to prosecute all minor offences - low value thefts, assaults and motoring offences - at Magistrates Court on our own without a solicitor.   The defendant was often represented and unless our case was complicated or controversial, Legal Aid would not be provided by the police legal department.

As I say the first few occasions were nerve-racking and personally I could never sleep the night before the case was being heard.   The Magistrates were quite famous in their own little way among police and criminals alike.  Others were characters and the stories about some are legend.

More serious cases had to be heard at Crown Court and with minor offences, if the Magistrate did not think that he/she had sufficient powers in sentencing (their maximum was 6 months), the prisoner could be sent to Crown Court for an enhanced sentence.

All Crown Court prosecutions had to be conducted by Lawyers both for the Prosecution and the Defence.   It was a little less frightening in some ways but the power of the Judges was scary.   They used to dish out fines for the simplest of cases of disrespect in court.   I have seen on one occasion a female jury member, who on a very warm summer’s day, fell asleep.   As soon as the Judge noticed her, he looked at his watch and signalled with his raised hand for everyone to remain silent.    She woke up started after about ten seconds...................

“Madam” the Judge bellowed “you have been asleep for ten seconds; you will pay a fine of twenty pounds for contempt”.    Twenty pounds in those days was a good week’s wages.

As soon as the Judge left the court, police officers, jurors and barristers used to light up cigarettes, pipes or cigars.   Strange looking back but everyone smoked in those days.   Anyway, as the Judge left the court, an old Detective Sergeant lit up.   The Judge who was not quite out his door, turned on his heel and bellowed “And you Sergeant are fined ten pounds for contempt”.   

Some of those old Judges were hard men.    Incidentally the above photo of a Judge is not the one I will refer to in a moment.

Judge McLean was a highly respected Judge who sat at the Inner London Crown Court just south of London Bridge.   He used to give lectures at the Police Training College and his advice was always well worth bearing in mind when in his court.   He hated having his time wasted either by the police, barristers or the criminals.   He would not hesitate to double the sentence of someone whom he thought was pleading Not Guilty when the evidence was overwhelming.   It was said that if a police officer ever upset him,the officer would have to transfer to a distance station or other force area well out of Mr. McLean’s jurisdiction.

And so it came to be that yours truly was due to give evidence before a Jury and His Honour, Judge Ozzie McLean..................It was about 1968.

There is an old police expression about being nervous that says ‘I was crapping bricks’ but in my case it was ‘boulders’...............I was as nervous at hell.    I had arrested two young men on night duty who had stolen a radio from a car.   When searched at the police station a large desert spoon was found in one of their pockets.    The Night Duty detectives had them charged with Theft of the radio and Going equipped to steal with the spoon.   I was in no position to argue with them.

At Magistrates Court, as was their right, they elected trial by jury and a few weeks later they were committed for trial.    I awaited the court warning which came about three months later.

Even to this day after over 50 years in London, people tell me that I still have a very strong Irish brogue and in those days I spoke very softly.   

When taking the oath, Old Ozzie spoke loudly at me “Speak up, officer, speak up”.   I almost fainted but raised my voice.    He appeared to recognise the accent as Irish and immediately waved his hand at me.   He actually apologised to me and said “You have a wonderful sweet accent officer, try to keep it loud enough for us all to enjoy it”.   He smiled like a Cheshire Cat.

I looked for help towards the Detective Sergeant who was sitting behind the Prosecution Barrister and he gave me the thumbs up.   That relaxed me.    I gave my evidence about chasing the two prisoners and catching them with the radio, my return to the car and seeing the wires removed.   I then came to the searching at the station.....................

I produced the stainless steel spoon and held it aloft.   I said “I found this in the inside coat pocket of the prisoner Smith”.   Before I could go any further, Ozzie asked me “But it is just a spoon officer, how is that going equipped to steal?”   I had been briefed on that point a little so I waved the spoon about and said “Sir, it is used to open the window of the car”.   “And how is that done officer?”   Ozzie asked with a big grin on his face.   I very nearly answered ‘Sir I haven’t the faintest idea’ but knew before I said anything that I better just wave the spoon around a bit more.

“No, no, no Officer” Ozzie continued “I mean a practical demonstration”.   As I began to wave the spoon around even more violently, he continued “In the car-park officer, a practical demonstration if you will”.    For probably the third time in the Witness Box, I almost fainted.   In truth, I did not have the faintest idea how the spoon worked and regretted that I had not said so earlier.

Anyway, out we all traipse into the court car-park.  Judge, Jury, Gaolers with the prisoners, Barristers, Court clerk and friends and family of the prisoners from the public gallery.   I made a bee-line to the Detective Sergeant and pleaded “What the bloody hell do I do Serge?”   He actually laughed the so-and-so........he had the cheek to laugh, then said “First make sure that the spoon does not have Metropolitan Police Canteen on it, then bend it, stick it into the quarter light of the oldest car you can see in the car-park, twiddle it around a bit and the window opens.   You put in your hand and wind down the large window.  Ok?” 

  

With that Old Ozzie called out to me “Officer, you are still under Oath, let us get on with it”.  I had chosen an old Morris Minor and for those who do not know or remember, the driver’s and front passenger’s windows had windows as cars of today have.  They also had what was called a Quarter-light, a small window that could be opened separately with a stud and clip that locked it.

Oddly enough, I knew that if I could not do it, I could always faint, get a long recess and practice the art of stealing from a car at my leisure but thought twice about that one......

Instead, I grabbed the bull by the horns and loudly said, and I remember the words exactly, “You take the spoon thus; you bend it thus; (which I did); you place it between the rubber of the quarter light thus; and twist it thus”.   

Mother of God, the blinking window popped open and Ozzie began to clap.   The two prisoners stood with their eyes in one case looking at the ground whilst the other’s looked up to heaven.

All Old Ozzie said was “Well done officer, splendid demonstration which leaves no doubt as to its use.   You” he pointed to the Defence Barrister, “I will see you in my chambers”.    A few minutes later back in court, Ozzie came out and asked that the indictments be once again put to the prisoners, they both immediately changed their pleas to Guilty.    A deal had obviously been done and he gave them six months imprisonment each.

I left that courtroom walking on air and to cap it all, the Detective Sergeant even reported my ‘excellent’ evidence to the Guvnor back at the nick...............

I gave evidence before Judge McLean several times subsequently and he would always give me a knowing nod.   He once said to me – and very politely I might add – “Officer, you have a lovely Irish accent for chatting up the ladies, but in my court we would like you to speak just a little bit louder”................

Old Ozzie always was, and in my memory still remains, a thorough gentleman to me, whilst he was still referred to as an ‘Old Basket’ by the majority of other officers..................

If we still had Judges and Magistrates like the two I have referred to in this and the previous post, there would be, and I fully guarantee it, less crime than at present.....

------Mike-----

Courting Disaster

Evidence – What’s That?

This little story about my police career in London relates to a most important part of policing and that is ‘the giving of evidence at court’.    For a young officer starting out it can be, and in my case certainly was, a daunting and indeed frightening experience.   In order to familiarise officers with their local Magistrates court, they spend several days sitting in and listening to different cases before being released upon the general public.

Magistrates Courts have two different sets of those presiding as judge, a Bench which consists of two or three non-legal members who are basically independent but really are under the legal control of the Court Clerk.    The other type is a solitary Stipendiary Magistrate who is legally trained and vastly experienced in law.

In our local court we had for the most part, Stipendiarys and the main one in those days was Mr. Neil McElligott.  He could be frightening not only for those appearing before him for trial but more so for young officers giving evidence.    The older officers used to say if Mr. Mac liked you, you were well in..............

He had a way of making headlines even those days before he became the Chief Magistrate in London and was outspoken in regards to anything that he came across during his duties.

In fact, there is a record of a Question in Parliament by an M.P. to the Attorney –General about Mr. Mac which puts it into perspective (It is recorded in Hansard, the record of the House of Commons dated 9 April 1973 vol 854 cc930-1930).

‘The M.P. Mr. Kaufman asked the Attorney-General if he will remove Mr. Neil McElligott from the list of magistrates.   The Attorney-General replied ‘No Sir’.   Mr. Kaufman continued and I will abbreviate the conversation to save time.    He stated that Mr. McElligott’s reputation for prejudicial and intemperate remarks in his court had been capped by his latest statement.  It concerned a woman from the Lebanon who appeared before him for shoplifting.  He said that Mr. McElligott claimed that 75% of shoplifting cases in his court were caused by people from her part of the world who came to London to thieve.    Mr. Kaufman claimed that this was a mass slander against millions of people.

The Attorney General then gave statistics relating to the high percentage of such cases that proved Mr. McElligott’s point.   He added that London has a fascination for such people who had considerable substance who just came here to thieve.  He ended by saying ‘I consider what the magistrate said was justifiable’.

Another M.P. added that ‘......there was scarcely a magistrate more highly regarded than Mr. McElligott’.   The Attorney General added ‘I am glad to hear that.....’.

This is just one sample of hundreds of such statements Mr. Mac made over the years and this was the man who would be hearing my evidence in upcoming cases.

The thought scared me silly...............

My first case before him was an African man who I had reported for failing to stop whilst driving for a red traffic light.   He pleaded ‘Not Guilty’.   I gave my evidence before Mr. McElligott and when I came to what the man said when I pointed out the offence, Mr. Mac looked puzzled.   You see, the man had said ‘The rowboat was purple’ and I had recorded it immediately.   Mr. Mac asked “He said what officer?”   When I repeated the sentence, Mr. Mac merely shrugged his shoulders.

The man then entered the witness box and began to speak in a strong African accent.   He said that when he drove up to the lights ‘The rowboat was purple and not red’.   After several questions by Mr. Mac it transpired that the man was calling the actual traffic light standard a ‘robot’ and that the light was not red but orange which he called ‘purple’.    The smile on Mr. Mac’s face was delightful.    I think he fined the man a few pounds but then called me over to his chair and whispered to me   ‘Congratulations officer, you got it right, word perfect, well done’.

As luck would have it, the following week I appeared before Mr. Mac again but this case was one of indecency.   The woman involved was, with the greatest respect to her, as thick as two short planks.   However, the man was a local businessman and they were charged with committing ‘an indecent act’.   I will not elaborate.

This time I was so nervous that I think I was actually trembling and whilst holding my note book in which I had my evidence, it was obvious to everyone by the way it was shaking that I was almost ready to faint.   However, Mr. Mac was sitting and immediately came to my rescue.   Incidentally, the man and woman had pleaded Not Guilty and the man was represented by an expensive Barrister.

Mr. Mac began:  “Right Officer BrayheadMike, I know you have a wonderful soft Irish accent but this time I want you to speak up so that everyone can hear what you have to say.   Next I want you to take that note book you are holding and throw it as far down the court as you can.   Go ahead, do it now”.   I did, I threw my notebook which contained all my evidence into the well of the court.

Mr. Mac continued:  “Right next thing is, you can forget what they taught you in Police College, just tell me in your own words what you saw and what you heard”.

I was amazed, and looking straight at the Magistrate, I went into my evidence.   Every now and again Mr. Mac would say words like “Oh no: Are you sure? You saw what? and similar short questions.   I was now not in fact giving evidence but I was merely having a chat with Mr. Mac.     

He asked me “Was he wearing a belt of braces?”   I remember saying “I haven’t got the faintest idea sir because I wasn’t looking at that, but I swear to God, I could see what they were doing”.   Mr. Mac replied “Are you making all this up as you go along?”    I was truly shocked at even being asked the question.   I looked him straight in the face and said with a hurt note in my voice “I never lie sir, never, I swear to God”.

The Barrister had been listening while all this went on and as I had now finished ‘my story’, he stood up.   Before he could speak a word, Mr. Mac raised his index finger and said “Before you ask the officer a single question, I believe every word he says.   May I suggest you speak to your client and if an apology is forthcoming, this case can be resolved in a satisfactory manner”.    He took about ten seconds to speak to his client then said to the Magistrate.   “Sir, we now change our plea to Guilty and ask for the mercy of the court”.

They were both fined ten pounds which was quite a lot in those days.    This time Mr. Mac did not say anything to me but when I looked at him he give me a wonderful smile and one hell of a big wink.

The Court Inspector who had been listening throughout and had recovered my note book took me aside and said “Congratulations Mick, you are now in Mr. Mac’s good books.   Just don’t spoil it by getting too cocky”.

So.........that was my introduction to the gentle Mr. Neil McElligott without doubt one of the most famous East End Magistrates of all time who would continue to nurture me throughout my uniform career until I joined the supposedly ‘elite’ CID – Criminal Investigation Department.

God rest you Mr. Mac one of the truest gentlemen I have met in my life.......

------Mike-----