In the early 1970s the rot which was to destroy the police force, began to show signs of doing just that. The cautioning of young person’s for criminal acts, instead of their prosecution, had left them free to cause havoc. There was also the same facility of cautioning for the elderly, which seemed to make more sense. One of the detective constables, working from the same station as myself happened to be in the vicinity of a popular shopping centre when he was approached by the proprietor of a mini market.

He had at his side an old lady, whom he said he had seen take a loaf of bread from his shop, and walk out without paying. The D.C. recovered the loaf from the old girl's bag and handed it to the shopkeeper'. If you agree' he said, she can be cautioned at the station instead of having to attend court.' The shopkeeper agreed to that as he didn't fancy spending a day hanging about at court, and signed the officer' notebook to that effect. The D.C. walked to the end of the street with the offender, and then told her to go home and to forget the whole incident, but never to return to that shop.

Two weeks later, the detective superintendent sent for him. ‘A Mr.Rasheem has been on the telephone to me, saying that you arrested an old woman for stealing from him. He said you told him you were having her cautioned by me, and I have not seen anything of your report' he said. The D.C. mumbled that it was all in hand, but the woman had been ill. 'Well get her in here by Friday,' shouted the superintendent'.  

The officer had to think fast, he had no idea who the old girl was, or where she lived. Two or three pints of bitter bred a desperate plan of action took shape. That evening he travelled the thirty miles to the home of his mother, where having explained his plight, he asked her to take the place of the thief and attend for the caution on Friday. His mother's reaction was one of outrage, not so much at being asked by her own son to be deceitful, but the suggestion that she at only sixty three could pass for an old woman.

Further pleading, and the fact that for some years she had been involved in amateur dramatics at the church, changed her mind. I could wear that suit I got for your wedding, and a new pair of shoes I saw in------' Whoa mum, the woman is in poor circumstances, she won't have had new shoes for years,' said her son.

On the ensuing Friday she was marched in to the superintendent, who told her she was not to go to court, and that he was warning her not to take things in future without paying for them. He looked with pity at the sorry sight before him, who had gone somewhat over the top with her choice of wardrobe.

She looked somehow familiar to him, but was unable to recall where he had seen her before. 'Were you ever one of Glasgow Mary's girls?' he asked, only to receive a savage glare. He called for the clerk to take the old woman down to the canteen and give her a cup of tea, and that was that.  Her son met her outside and drove her home. 'I can't wait to tell the Mothers Union about it all', she said. The remainder of the journey was spent pleading with her to do no such thing.

Keep taking the tablets.

Dennis Wood