Protecting Our Neighbourhood

Philip Baker had a sneaky suspicion what the letter was going to say even before he opened it. Nevertheless, he opened the brown envelope from the Metropolitan Police. Unfolding the letter inside, he braced for what it was about to tell him.

Dear Mr Baker,

Thank you for your application to be a Special Constable.

Unfortunately, after careful consideration, we have decide not

to select you for training. Your desire to serve your community

is greatly appreciated.

He shouldn't have been surprised at the letter's content. He had applied to be a real police officer as well at some of the other constabularies around London and each response was the same: no thank you. Now that even the special voluntary police didn't want him, it was now clear that he had no chance whatsoever in becoming a police officer.

His first instinct was to write to them and inquire why his application was unsuccessful but he had done that with two of his previous failed attempts. Only one of those bothered to write back to him and they informed him that it wasn't public policy to disclose the reason. Philip found it all very frustrating.

One speculation behind his lack of success went back nine years to when Phil was eighteen. On one particular evening, his friend had stolen a car and saucily drove it by Phil and two of his other friends, offering them a ride. When the offer was accepted, the driver set off like a madman around the Bow and Clapton areas of London. Zipping around East London felt exhilarating and that feeling only rose when the car went speeding down the Blackwall Tunnel Road. However, the rush came to an end when the speeding car zoomed across the roundabout beneath the Bow Flyover and came to an abrupt stop on the central island. The four young men quickly got out of the car and ran off in different directions. Unfortunately, for Phil and his friend, their escape path led right into four police officers who wasted no time in apprehending the pair.

Philip was charged with assisting with the theft of a motor vehicle. The police and prosecutor demanded, “Tell us who stole and drove the car and we'll drop the charges against you.” But Phil adamantly declined. “I'm not giving up my mate!” Therefore, he was taken before a magistrate who gave him a £150 fine and 50 hours of community service as well as a three month jail term suspended for one year. He had a criminal record and even though the minor offence didn't hinder his employment in a factory. The boss who interviewed him stated light-heartedly, “We all did things like that when we were younger.” However, it did stop him becoming a police officer. This was in spite of the fact that his conviction had long since been considered 'spent' under the Rehabilitation of Offenders Act. The sad thing was that many people agreed that he would have made a good police officer because they all thought he was good at solving problems.

Feeling powerless at that disappointment, Phillip decided to concentrate on his job and his family. On this night, howerver, it was a rare occasion these days that Philip got to enjoy a few pints at the local pub. He was married with a two year old son but when he came home that afternoon, his wife, Carly, told him that the doctor confirmed she was pregnant. Therefore, he had something to celebrate. His mate, Troy, reaped the benefits of Phil's good news when he bought his friend a pint and a Jaeger bomb.

Four pints and many shots later, Phil and his mixed-race friend were feeling quite merry. About to order another round, they spied another friend named Gurpreet coming into the pub. Head down and with a very forlorn look on his face, the two friends saw right away that there was something not right with him.

“Another round and on for our friend here,” Troy called out welcomingly.

Once Gurpreet had his pint in hand, the three withdrew to a quiet corner of the pub. When seated, Gurpreet unburdened his soul. “My flat was burgled today,” he angrily told them.

“How? You live on the second floor,” Philip asked. “How did they get in?”

“I saw the bedroom window wide open when I was coming home this evening,” he explained. “I kept that window open a slight crack on account of how hot it's been. I didn't think anyone could get in. The must have had a long ladder, got in and taken everything, my computer, my telly and many of my CDs and DVDs. Then they must have found my spare key and taken it all right out the front door. I've called the police but they can't come out for two days. It's also going to cost a fortune getting my locks changed.”

“That's terrible!” Phil snapped. At the same time, his thoughts were once again drifting back to how he didn't get into the police force on account of one small blunder confined to ancient history, even though the police were always whining about how short staffed they were.

“Too bad they weren't driving five miles over the speed limit,then the cops would have had them,” Troy jested.

Troy's joke brought a slight smile to Gurpreet's face who nodded in agreement. Philip smiled too but at the same time he could not shake how the police seemed not to be bothered by his friend's plight. Right then, he decided that he needed to do something to help his friend and his community.

It took four weeks to organize. Leaflets were printed up and distributed around the estate and left in local shops. Terry, the landlord of the local pub, The Duke of Dorset, wholeheartedly agreed for them to use the upstairs room above the bar as a meeting place. It hadn't been used since the local chapter of the Socialist Worker's Party stopped meeting there, jumping ship for a more trendy upmarket pub in Aldgate. Philip and his friends were ready to hold the first official meeting of the Neighbourhood Watch for the Wilmer and Sandall Estates. They simply hoped that people were going to show up for it.

At first, it appeared that Philip's fears were going to be right. With only fifteen minutes before the planned meeting was supposed to start, only one person had turned up. Then, from seemingly out of nowhere and with less than ten minutes to go, a loud, familiar voice boomed, “Hey! Let's get this thing started.”

Phil, Troy and Gurpreet knew the voice instantly. It belonged to their larger than life friend Christian. Bulldozing his way through the door, the six foot three, nineteen and a half stone Nigerian bounded over and with an equally huge, jovial smile announced, “I brought some people along.” Sure enough, trailing behind their large friend were six men and two women of all different races and economic groups. Without any prompting, the eight new arrivals dutifully took their seats.

After seeing his entourage take their seats, Christian declared, “When I read that leaflet you put through my letterbox, I knew I had to come and see this for myself. With another loud laugh, he produced the leaflet and remarked, “It reads like one of those American adverts for lawyers.”

Have you or someone you know been the victim of a crime?

Have the police let you down?

Are you concerned about the crime in your neighbourhood?

If the answer to any of these questions is yes, then you should come to our meeting on Wednesday, September 23, at 7:30 pm at the Duke of Dorset.

Together, we can make our streets safe again.

Only one more person came in to the meeting room before Philip started the meeting. He had hoped more would have come but he was certainly glad it wasn't less. Fumbling his note cards and clearing his throat several times, obviously nervous, he began, “Thank you all for coming. You are here because like me, you are concerned about all the crime happening around our estates. Crime seems to be rampant with houses and flats being burgled at will. Some of you have been victims yourselves and the police don't seem to be bothered. Just last month, Gurpreet here,” pointing to his friend, “had his flat broken into and his stuff stolen. Worse, it was in broad daylight but nobody saw or heard anything.”

Taking his cue, Gurpreet, sitting in the front row, stood up and faced the audience. “It's like Philip said,” he reiterated. “I came home from work in the afternoon and saw my front door wide open. I know I locked it before I left in the morning but when I went in, I found my flat had been ransacked and my computer and telly gone. I turned white.” This brought some chuckles from those in attendance and another loud laugh from Christian.

“Anyway, I phoned the police but they told me they couldn't send anyone around to see me for two day. And when they did come, the two cops didn't seem at all optimistic that they would catch the thieves or that I would get my things back.”

Sensing Gurpreet had the audience's sympathy, Philip took over from his Indian friend. “As you can see, the police aren't going to be of much help. Therefore, we have to do something ourselves. What I am suggesting is that we set up an active neighbourhood patrol. We take it in turns to patrol our estates and the surrounding area. If we witness a crime, we phone the police. Now, they probably won't come so what we can do is to photograph and document any evidence and hand it over to them.”

“Would we ever confront the criminals?” asked a skinny white man with glasses.

Phil shook his head, “No, we are not vigilantes. We observe and make notes. Hopefully, our presence on the street will serve as a deterrent. If you are here because you think it will be a chance to go out and duff people up, then you are in the wrong place.”

He paused for a moment, expecting a few disappointed people to leave. He stared down his audience with a feigned assertiveness while struggling to contain the bile of dread raging in his stomach. However, no one left. Not wanting to bore his audience with more mind-numbing details, Phil simply concluded, “If you are interested in protecting your neighbourhood, leave your details with Troy,” indicating his friend sitting at a table nearby. “If you do sign up, then come down to the bar cause the first round is on us.” Whether it was the offer of a free drink or the ten attendees were genuinely interested in serving their community, everyone at the meeting signed up.

Organizing the patrols around the lives of thirteen people wasn't as easy as Phil first thought, especially as most of them had real jobs to go to. Furthermore, the eagerness of the first meeting was beginning to fade away as one person dropped out. Two others were adamant that they weren't going to patrol on weekends, thus adding further complications. Though it took a lot of effort on his part, when the group met again a week later, Phil was convinced he had a workable plan.

“My idea is that we have three teams of four,” he announced when to those in attendance. Each team will be split into two pairs and patrol different parts of the estate, paying close attention to areas we know to have been hit by crime. The two pairs should be in constant contact with each other to add to additional safety. If one pair sees anythings suspicious, they are to observe from a safe distance and if they see a crime being committed or has been committed, they should phone the police right away and if necessary, phone the other pair for back up.”

He produced a large map of the local area which, with assistance from Troy, blu-tacked to a wall behind him.”This is the area we will be dealing with the most,” he explained. “That doesn't mean if you see something outside of this area, you do nothing. Still, observe and report it. Also, if you're hungry, get something to eat as long as it's one pair at a time. Seven til two is a long time to go without food. Besides, our presence around the local shops might be a good thing.”

“Can we choose our teams or have you already done that?” inquired a short, muscular African man who Christian knew from his days of playing American football and was sitting in the front row.

Philip replied, “I have made the teams according to availability but it's up to you to decide who you want to pair off with in your team.”

The man seemed satisfied with the explanation.

Not wanting to bore the assembly any further, Philip rushed the details of how the patrols should go. One pair was to walk around the Wilmer Estate and the other the Sandall Estate, keeping in view on the tower blocks of the estates as well as the surrounding houses. They should also patrol the streets leading up to the estates from the Roman Road. He also emphasised that the two pairs should contact one another at least once an hour and meet up two or three times during their patrol, thus ensuring greater safety.

“So far, so good,” Philip thought to himself at this point of the presentation. Now came the part he was really worried about, the naming of the teams. “I'll be leading team one which consists of Jacob, Tariq and Tom. Troy will lead the second team with Lashay, Sam and Gurdev. Gurpreet will lead the third team with Christian, Martin and Nikita.”

He paused for comments about the assigned groupings but none came forth. Everyone seemed to be okay with it. Satisfied, he suggested, “Let's go down to the bar, the team leaders will be buying the first round for their teams.” As the procession filed down stairs to celebrate, it looked as if the neighbourhood patrol was off to a good start.

Starry eyed ideas about busting major criminal gangs disappeared rapidly over the first three weeks. Except for seeing a gang of about tweleve youths hanging around the estate doing nothing more than smoking cigarettes one night, the nights of patrolling were extremely quiet. To keep his troops motivated, Philip pointed out that it might be down to their presence proving to be a good deterrent. More fortune came in the form of three new eager recruits. That was good because it lessened the workload for the rest of the group. It seemed the plan was working well.

Late one evening, while out on patrol, Christian and his slender, blonde partner, Nikita, spied a shadowy figure running between some houses near the estate. Staying at a safe distance, the pair watched and strained their ears to find out what might happen next. Hearing what sounded like glass breaking, Christian dialled 999 while Nikita phoned the other pair requesting back up.

“Emergency services, which service do you require?” asked a female voice on the other end of Christian's phone.

“Police,” Christian replied, fighting to keep the adrenaline down.

Thirty seconds later, a male voice came on the line, “Police, how may we help?”

“I'd like to report a break-in in progress.”

“When you say, 'in progress,' do you mean it's happening right now” the man questioned.

“Yes, right now,” Christian breathed back heavily. “We saw someone run in between some houses then heard a window breaking.”

“And where is this alleged break-in taking place?”

“St. Stephens Street, in Bow, near the Sandall House,” Christian happily informed and giving himself a salute for feeling proud of himself for being able to give the information.

“Okay, we'll see if we can send someone around.” The monotone voice did little to instill Christian with confidence.

Gurpreet and Martin couldn't have arrived at a better time. Together, the four of them waited with mobile phone cameras at the ready. Seconds later, a white van with no other distinguishable markings pulled up and stopped outside one of the houses the shadowy figure was seen running between. A skinny man, who looked about five feet ten and wore dark clothing, got out and went around and open the van's back door. At the same time, another man, probably the first figure, appeared from between the same houses carrying what looked like a television set and loaded it into the back of the van. The driver then joined his companion in loading other treasures taken from the house, all the while, unaware that there were four witnesses nearby taking photos of them. Otherwise, they would have covered up their faces, which were clear to see. Both men were white, the burglar had a triangular face with a long pointed nose while the driver's face looked flatter with large round eyes. The group had all the evidence they needed.

No one on the teams was surprised that the police never turned up to answer Christian's call. The two teams took it in turns to go past the burgled house but the rest of the night was uneventful. Right before the shift ended at 2 AM, Christian got an idea to venture onto the targeted property and look for clues. While the dark of the night prevented him from seeing much, he was able to spot the broken window where the burglar got it. He simply took a few photos and left. He and his team were satisfied that justice was going to be served.

Two days later, with over a dozen photographs in hand, Gurpreet and Christian, along with Phil, strode into the local police station. Phil was especially proud of his team's actions and wanted to be there when they reported the crime to the police. Feeling a great sense of pride, the trio approached the reception desk where Christian informed the attending officer, “We're here about the burglary I reported two nights ago, the one on St. Stephens Street.”

Looking very confused, the officer told them to wait before disappearing. So they waited and waited for about 45 minutes before another officer, this one in plain clothes, returned. Apologetically, he explained, “Sorry to keep you waiting for so long but it took us a while to find your report of the burglary. The person whose house you say was broken into did make a report so we had to make sure yours and his was the same thing. Now, which one of you made the call?”

Christian put up his hand while at the same time saying, “I did.”

The officer, a tall white man in his mid-thirties, identified himself as DS Wilkes before beckoning them to follow him. The detective sergeant led them to a small interview room and asked them to sit down.

“Do you have something to add about the burglary?” he asked

“We have these,” Gurpreet responded with great glee as he laid the photos before the sergeant.

DS Wilkes was speechless! His jaw dropped as he studied each photograph very intently with his mouth agape. Meanwhile, the three friends fidgeted in their chairs with nervous excitement and when the DS did speak several minutes later, he asked, “How did you get these?”

Taking the lead, Christian relayed that night's events. “I was walking down St. Stephens Street around half past eleven the other night with my friend Nikita who couldn't be here today, when we saw this figure run between the houses. A minute later, we heard noise like glass breaking, that was when I dialled 999 and asked for you lot. We decided to hang around just in case, when Gurpreet here and his friend Martin, who also can't be here today. That was when this white van pulled up and we saw the driver get out and together with the first guy, started putting things in the back of the van. That was when we thought we should take these pictures.”

Still taking in the enormity of what Christian had told him, DS Wilkes asked, “When did you take the photos of the broken window?”

“We hung around for an hour waiting for you to turn up and when you didn't, I decided to go between the houses and that's when I saw the broken window. So I took a picture of it.”

“I see,” was all the police officer could muster. Then, turning to Phil, he asked, “What was your role in all of this? Were you there?”

“No, no,” Phil admitted, “I am just here to give my friends moral support.”

“Oh,” DS Wilkes simply nodded. Looking at Christian and Gurpreet, he stated, “From what I see here, you two would make good policemen.”

The three men all laughed, all the while, Phil was thinking, “Could I quote that on an application form?” The sergeant continued, “We will take this photographs and conduct our investigation. However, we may need you to testify in court. Are you both willing to do that?”

“Oh yeah!” Christian declared with his usual self assuredness.

“Absolutely,” came Gurpreet's reply.

“What about the other two you say were with you? Would they be willing to testify?”

“I'm sure they will, “Christian stated with the same bold assuredness.

“Then, that's all we need for now. We'll be in touch once we've concluded our investigation.”

An air of confidence and accomplishment filled not only Christian and Gurpreet's team but the other two teams as well. The knowledge of having brought two burglars to justice proved to them that the neighbourhood patrols were making a difference in keeping their estates safe from crime. Some of the members found it nigh impossible not to let the who affair go to their heads as they swaggered around the estates. Their confidence was further bolstered by the fact there seemed to be no more crimes committed during the four weeks following. Philip and his group truly believed that they were making a positive difference.

One evening, Philip answered a knock on his front door. He opened to find DS Wilkes and a uniformed constable. “Mr Baker, may we come in?” the detective sergeant asked politely.

“Is it about the robbery?” Phil asked opening the door wider. Stopping suddenly, he pointed out to the officers, “I was there that night, nor did I make a report of the robbery, so why do you need to talk to me?”

“We just need to ask you a few questions,” came the reply.

Phil let the officers in. They followed him to the living room, pausing while he picked up his little boy. As they entered, the two officers greeted Carly, whose bump was now extended out, noticeably showing she was pregnant. Phil bade the officers to sit down while Carly made the offer of drinks, which the guests politely declined.

DS Wilkes began, “We caught the two men who committed the burglary your friends took pictures of.”

Phil felt the excitement beginning to build as the officer continued, “But we won't be charging them.”

His excitement instantly deflated and all Phil could muster was a meek, “Why not?”

“This is why,” DS Wilkes stated as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over to Phil. It was the leaflet he had made and distributed around the estates inviting people to join his neighbourhood watch.

“It was given to me by one of the defendant's solicitors. A few weeks before the reported crime, you and your friends posted these leaflets all around the area. It seems that you have formed some sort of vigilante group around the neighbourhood. The solicitor told me that his client has seen groups of people walking around the area like vigilantes. The fact that you formed this so-called neighbourhood watch without police consent makes the pictures you took inadmissible in court. Therefore, we have to let them off.”

Phil couldn't believe his ears. “Do you mean that because I, along with some concerned citizens, decided to protect our estates, you can't charge a burglar who was caught and photographed in the act?”

“I'm afraid so. If this went to court, any defence barrister would rubbish this. They would paint an even darker picture of vigilantes roaming the streets frightening people. That's why the prosecutor won't even touch it.”

“We're not vigilantes!” Phil protested. “We just wanted to keep our estates safe and everything we did was according to the law.”

“Maybe so, but you can't go around the area acting like you're the police. If you were that concerned for your community, you should have joined the police force.

“I tried to,” Phil explained, “But I never got past the application stage.”

DS Wilkes shrugged sympathetically, “Well that's too bad, you might have made a good policeman. But that's not the point. We can't have gangs of citizens roaming the streets like vigilantes, no matter how well intentioned they are. I have been instructed by my superiors to tell you that you must disband your group. If you fail to comply, you could be charged with perverting the course of justice and taking the law into your own hands.”

Phillip fought back his inclination to say, “I wouldn't have needed to form the neighbourhood watch if the police did their jobs properly,” but he knew that would only antagonize the situation more. Therefore, he muted agreed to comply with the police's demand. However, the shock of the entire visit remained with him long after the two officers left.

Phil called an meeting of the neighbourhood watch a few days later and announced that the group was being disbanded. When asked why, he plainly told them about the visit he had from the police. The vast majority of the group were just as shocked as he had been.

“That's typical!” Christian ranted. “We come up with a way to keep our estates safe and the cops say we can't do it. I say we ignore them and carry on anyway.” There were several comments in agreement with him.

“That's because if the police allow us to continue, then they're admitting that they can't do their jobs properly,” Martin pointed out.

“Well, they can't,” Christian fumed. “We know that from what we saw and what happened to Gurpreet.

Christian's rant revealed that Gurpreet was absent. No one could figure out why and it wasn't like him. Nevertheless, the announcement was made, the meeting concluded and the group headed down to the bar for a farewell drink.

After an hour or more of drowning their sorrows, the flow of alcohol was numbing the sting of Phil's announcement. It was then, their absent friend Gurpreet turned up.

Putting his arm around his mate, Troy slurred, “Come join us for a farewell drink.”

Seeing Gurpreet's bewilderment, Troy further clarified, “The cops have said we have to break up our neighbourhood watch and they'll arrest us if we don't.”

Throwing up his hands in disgust, Gurpreet sarcastically chimed, “That makes sense. The reason why I'm late is because my uncle's shop was broken into last night. Whoever did it cleaned out all the booze and cigarettes and left the place looking like a tip. My uncle called the police and like with me, they told my uncle he has to wait until tomorrow before they can send someone around, which means the shop will have to be closed until then,”

“That wouldn't have happened if we had been out there,” Philip offered in sympathy.

Gurpreet smiled a weak smile, “No it wouldn't.”