It’s a sunny, London afternoon. A quick breeze blows through Westminster, just outside the Palace of Westminster, and a man in his 20’s stands erect staring up at Elizabeth Tower. He’s starting his police job.
It’s a role he coveted since leaving school. He hadn’t made it in other types of work, and wanted to try policing. He felt construction wasn’t for him, unlike his father, who’d said it would “knock sense” into him.
He was a person of his own mind, and felt capable of doing the work of a police officer. He even said as much – often – to the people that trained him. In fact, it was a sentiment he repeated throughout.
Drawing attention
His first weeks on the job were uneventful. He’d watch police programs at home about American crime fighting and became disturbed that more didn’t get done here. It did, but he didn’t think so. He felt upset.
He resolved to do it by himself. He felt he was able to free himself from the “shackles” of the force, and make a go of it by himself. He figured it’s justifiable as the work of a vigilante, or Robin Hood-type motif.
He drew the attention of a few in the force – and me. I went on a chase after him, and learned a lot in the process. I also discovered him before he found me, which was his trick. He used it often on people.
Hideous work
His adventures took him, by car, into the woods of Wales, the hills of the South, and even to the port of Dover a few times. He was a sort of person who visited due to nostalgia, and not a love for the place.
As I traced his movements, I concluded he acted out of a false sympathy for himself. He didn’t care for people, but only looked out for those who were reminiscent of his past. It wasn’t about love.
His crimes were hideous. He left dead bodies behind, and cars were left with their drivers deceased inside. He was a cruel, insidious man. He posed a danger to the public, wanted by many police forces.
Ruinous end
My last encounter with him was odd. He was in a car, luminescent with blue neon lights, and he – washed out on drugs – didn’t make any sense. It was as if he’d lost the will even to do his criminal acts.
Later, a police officer said he began to slow down, and wind down his actions, as I began my pursuit. It was the result of serious, dedicated work to track and trace him that bought an end to it.
He was a startling character, but his struggles with fantasist tendencies meant he carried on. He ignored warnings, signs of mental health, and addiction, and slipped into crime over and over.
