I would love to comment, but it seems that when something is
sub judice, then to comment would be inviting
contempt of court.
Suffice to say that when our office got broken into earlier this week, it presented a bit of an enigma. The weirdest choice of stuff was taken... and similarly weird choice of very nickable stuff was ignored and left. Can't help wondering what that was about...
But it did remind me of a situation many years ago when we got broken into once, at home. The miscreant in this case had recently escaped from an institution, and was clearly so institutionalised that he tidied up behind him... well, sort of...
He'd sat on the sofa and peeled an orange... then hidden the resulting orange peel inside my mother's copper kettle. He'd broken a window pane on the back door, to get in... then he'd carefully swept up the broken glass, and hidden it inside the washing machine. (My mother only found it the day after, when her washing load started to make a strange scraping noise when it went around!)
Anyway, the fugitive had then phoned his Gran up in Glasgow. (A check of the last number dialled returned that gem.) The boys in blue then just phoned up the McBoys in Tartan, whoduly staked out the station in Glasgow, and 'abracadabra', the suspect stepped off the next train there and into their waiting handcuffs, it seems.
Best of all, the loose change had fallen out of his pockets when sitting on our sofa, and dropped down behind the cushions. So, overall, he made a net loss on his burglary.
Clearly, advanced burglary skills take a bit of acquiring, and neither of these culprits had got their Jemmy and Swag sack badge at Boy Scouts.
Best I can say, on the record, in the circumstances, then, is
No comment
I would love to comment, but it seems that when something is sub judice, then to comment would be inviting contempt of court.
Suffice to say that when our office got broken into earlier this week, it presented a bit of an enigma. The weirdest choice of stuff was taken... and similarly weird choice of very nickable stuff was ignored and left. Can't help wondering what that was about...
But it did remind me of a situation many years ago when we got broken into once, at home. The miscreant in this case had recently escaped from an institution, and was clearly so institutionalised that he tidied up behind him... well, sort of...
He'd sat on the sofa and peeled an orange... then hidden the resulting orange peel inside my mother's copper kettle. He'd broken a window pane on the back door, to get in... then he'd carefully swept up the broken glass, and hidden it inside the washing machine. (My mother only found it the day after, when her washing load started to make a strange scraping noise when it went around!)
Anyway, the fugitive had then phoned his Gran up in Glasgow. (A check of the last number dialled returned that gem.) The boys in blue then just phoned up the McBoys in Tartan, whoduly staked out the station in Glasgow, and 'abracadabra', the suspect stepped off the next train there and into their waiting handcuffs, it seems.
Best of all, the loose change had fallen out of his pockets when sitting on our sofa, and dropped down behind the cushions. So, overall, he made a net loss on his burglary.
Clearly, advanced burglary skills take a bit of acquiring, and neither of these culprits had got their Jemmy and Swag sack badge at Boy Scouts.
Best I can say, on the record, in the circumstances, then, is
