Thursday, 28 June 2007

Truck Drivers and Refs

It's a wonderfully rainy Early Turn and I'm on the way to the CJU (Criminal Justice Unit) to sign a statement, when a call is assigned to us to deal with.
"Caller states a lorry parked in her road last night and is still there. Believed suspicious. Foreign registered vehicle. Informant states that it is suspicious as it is bigger than the trucks that usually park there overnight."

After calming ourselves down from the excitement of the call text, then trying to work out what they expect us to do with it, we trundle over there. It is not an emergency call, but due to the lack of traffic we are on scene very quickly.

Sure enough, there is a lorry parked there. And it is foreign registered. It's a shame, as I can't give my favourite result for this call, but hey ho. The rain is easing but still steady, and as the engine performs the diesel death shudder and the wipers stop, the windscreen is quickly covered with drops which hide the lorry. I grab my hat and pull the collar of my goretex jacket up and step outside to brave the wind followed by my intrepid partner.

We put the VRM (registration number) on the CAD (control room computer system), but as it is Polish registered we can't check anything on PNC (Police National Computer) for it, and I am struggling to work out why it is suspicious. As my partner stares blankly at the back of the trailer, I walk idly round the truck wondering whether we'll be going back to our nick for breakfast, or whether we can stay on this side of the ground for some more of the shift - it's nicer over here and you get a better class of domestics to report.

I get to the cab and I hear movement inside. I knock on the door and the movement stops. "Ah ha," I think, "Perhaps some naughty miscreants have removed this truck from the rightful owners and now are shaking in fear on the approach of the police."

I call my partner over. He is almost as excited as me at this turn of events, and shows it by saying "are we getting refs today or not?"

I try the door handle and it opens, so I climb up into the cab of the truck. At the back of the truck is a bed area with a curtain across, which I pull back. Sure enough, there are three people inside the truck. A young fella in his mid twenties, and two girls. In the bed. Together. Nekkid all of them. Ah.I feel that a tactical withdrawal is in order as the three people stop their activities and stare at me open mouthed.
"One minute," I say.

I jump out and say to my partner "You've done traffic before haven't you? HGVs and tachos and all that? This is more up your street." He sighs and climbs up, and I see him come to a stop halfway up. I even hear what may well be a very naughty word uttered by a shocked PC. This is reassuring as I wasn't sure whether I had really seen what I thought I had - I didn't stay long enough to take details down.

My partner is talking to them, and I hear him say something about getting dressed. His voice is getting louder and more insistent and I suspect that more naughty words may be forthcoming, but he seems to get the message across and the bloke from inside the truck climbs out wearing a pair of jeans and clutching a tshirt. "Czesc," I say. I'm talented like that.

Turns out this Polish driver has met two local girls out and about in town the evening before, and the girls had a little argument about who liked him more, which ended up in them coming back to his truck to "prove themselves." The driver wants to know if he will be arrested. I want to know where our breakfast is going to be. Documents seem ok, and we wave them goodbye; I result the call as "no offences." Good luck to the fella.

We decide to get refs on this side of the ground, which makes me happy as I'm starving. An emergency call comes out: "any unit for a domestic disturbance off the high street, informant states her husband is drunk and won't leave the address." I look at my watch, it's 0640hours. Me and my partner sigh as we know that we need to take the call as we're available and working that area, he answers up for the call and I press the nee-nar button and we start trundling over that way.

Looks like we're going back to our side of the ground for refs.

8 comments:

HPB said...

Got referred here from Inspector Gadget. Great story!!

Good luck with your blog.

Area Trace No Search said...

Thank you - you're a gent, as is the great Inspector.

My younger brother wants to know why I do my job instead of working as a truck driver in Poland...

Black Ice said...

Seems the cops in the UK are possessed of a measure of common sense.

In all too many places here in the US, they would have freaked out, arrested everyone involved, and called the local DOT squad to nail the truck driver for every offense possible.

Nicely done, sir...and I think I ought to see if Poland hires Yank truck drivers!!

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