Dave
Quits a Life of Crime
(The following written by Bob Wilson)
After 23 years of
criminal activities, in which he was involved in theft, drugs, stolen goods,
violence, deception and a host of heinous crimes, Dave Squires has finally
retired at the age of 65.
Twenty-three years ago,
Dave swapped the RAF uniform for a Police uniform, when he joined the Railway
Transport Police and dramatically shot to the giddy heights of apprentice
constable second class, a rank he remains proud of, despite his arrest rate
being 192 for one (rain stopped play). It was a shame he arrested that
one (jay walking), as his score would have been impressive.
At a secret location in
Birmingham (Steelhouse Lane Police Station, just off Corporation Street, MR
234644), in cell 24B, Dave was ceremoniously stripped of his lapels, had his
buttons pulled of and had his helmet beaten flat with his truncheon (it even
made my eyes water). He was treated with the usual police kindness and
hospitality (his ribs should be OK in six weeks) as they said farewell to the
man known for his style, grace, thoroughness, diligence, intelligence and his
crap police work.
As a retirement
present, his ex colleagues bought him an electric Zimmer frame, which will
obviously come in handy to a man of 65. Some of you will probably say
that he didn't look that old and others will tell the truth, that he was 15
years older than the rest of us, no wonder we always thought of him as being
grown up, he was, we were the kids.
After the presentation
of the Zimmer and a parking ticket for illegal parking (no loyalty now he is
like the rest of us), Dave insisted on singing the laughing policeman for 43
minutes, which was only stopped by the strategic placement of a truncheon
across his collar bone, setting Sheba, the killer police dog on him and
spraying him in the face with CS gas. He only stopped when his Chief
Super Intendant shouted words that shook him to the bone, "Last
orders".
Dave was surrounded by
his family and the anti terrorist squad, stood by the bar waiting for others
to buy him a drink (hard police habits are hard to change) and heard some
truths about him from his boss (not Sue), who passed comment on the fact he
was known as 'sicknote', 'shirker', 'lazy sod', 'lay-about' and other terms of
endearment (that is Dave's explanation).
OK, so that was
slightly off the mark. Dave was toasted by a very large contingence of
Birmingham's finest (?), which allowed me to nip out during the speeches and
help myself to car radios and other bits and pieces. He was applauded
and feted by his colleagues and many stories were told about his skill and
tenacity as a police officer but my favourite one was a transcript from one of
his arrests, where he was interviewing a suspect on tape at the time of the
Summer time hour change. The recording went: Dave It is 09:40, 10:40, no
09:40, no I mean 10:40, um, it might be 09:40 but..... Other officer for God's
sake Dave, have you finally lost it?
Dave's wife, Sue, and
his two daughters beamed as praised was heaped on him by his many friends but
realised they would probably see even less of him, after his presentation of
an electric golf trolley would keep him on the greens even longer.
Dave starts a new job
in two weeks, when he goes back to the station as an informant, sorry civilian
support officer, so they haven't got rid of him yet.
It was a lovely evening
and well worth the journey from Welsh Wales up to the big lights of
Birmingham, especially as Dave is one of life's real gentlemen.
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