Inchcocks Security Career True Tales of Woe – Rapid Alarm Response – The Bank Manager’s Activation

Inchcock’s True Security Career Woes

Rapid Response Alarm Officer Inchcock & The night of the Bank Manager’s Home Alarm Activation

I was on Alarm Response and Patrol checks this particular night. Anyone could usually tell when I was on these duties because the amount of alarm activations usually doubled when I was on this roster. Tsk!

About 2345hrs I was in Long Eaton near Derby carrying out one of the regular site checks when I got a call to inform me that an alarm had been activated at a house in North Nottingham. I knew the house as it is on our Patrol list for checks at the weekends, and owned by a bank manager.

I made my way towards Beeston then onto the ring road when I got another call from the controller to advise me that a second activation had been received making it a positive and the Police had been informed, but they told him that “We have no free units to respond, but will do when one is free.”

Nice… very encouraging that.

I arrived at the assignment address about 30 minutes after getting the call. A great big house with two gates and dozens of rooms.

I informed control of my arrival and that no outward signs of intrusion seen at the front and I was going to check the rear of the premises first.

I got the keys and codes from the van safe, locked the van, took a deep breath and walked to the back of the sprawling house.

1220hrs: I moved away from the window and informed control of the suspect on premises situation and he despatched the other patrol officer Darren as back-up support being as the Nottingham Police still had no one to send.

So I waited and observed monitoring for any activity.

I then saw the torchlight in a ground floor window and continued my observing.

Daz arrived asking where is the scum-bag, let’s gerrim…

After we gained entry through the front door and deactivated the alarm

Darren called out “Alright scum-bag, let be X#~♫ having yer… come on give up or my mate will come and get yer…”

I recall thinking ‘Oh no he wont!’

A bloke appeared though a door and came running at us calling out “I’ve called the police… he pulled up short and lowered his mashie niblick when he saw our uniform and the size of Darren… who did not take to be attacked and he belted the chap with left-hook of Henry Cooper quality.

As I was about to challenge Daz on why he clobbered him as it was obvious the chap was not an intruder but the bank manager when the door behind us burst open and the police officers entered, batons drawn and wrestled me an Darren onto the floor and we were hancuffed – I remember a canine officer being displeased with his animal when it licked me on the face when they were getting me up after being handcuffed.

Now we were in a pickle I thought.

Luckily my solver tongue explained what had happened in between my asking then telling Daz to keep quite.

The paramedics arrived and the bank manager was taken away for checks although he seemed alright, was very quiet and didn’t seem to hold any grudge against us?

When the officers and Darren had left, I did a check of the premises for any intruders, I could see the fuse box was open at the cellar head, so assumed that was the reason the torchlight was used? No signs of why the alarm activated were found and it reset without any bother later.

When I checked each room upstairs the third bedroom… well it opened my eyes I can tell yers… A four-poster bed with red and pink adornments, leather straps, handcuffs and a giant plastic prodding fork lay on the bed? Five TV or monitor screens were scattered around the room, and a gigantic mirror on the ceiling! No signs any bodies anywhere though.

Then I informed control all was clear and reset the alarm and secured the premises.

Sat in the van doing the incident report – one of the hardest I’ve ever had to do.

The Barclays bank manager didn’t complain at all – which was puzzling and unexpected, but comforting.

Wonder what he was up to on his own?

By Inchie

73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!

6 comments

  1. Marissa Bergen – Burbank, Ca – This blog is a semi auto-biographical view of my life, beginning as a rocker chick from Brooklyn, moving on to playing in a punk band on New York's Lower East Side, to my current lot in life as a working mother of two, now living in Los Angeles. I love writing because you can be whoever you want to be when you write. Therefore, I would never want to pigeon-hole myself too much in my blog. However, I don't think I will ever deviate too much from what is innately in my blood, that being humor and sarcasm. Recently I have been turning more and more to poetry. I like poetry because it let's you say so much more with so much less, so much more about so little, and it also distances you from the subject matter, making you much less likely to offend someone, which I would probably otherwise do on a daily basis.
    Marissa Bergen says:

    I’m surprised you didn’t get in the bed yourself and are there still!

    1. Inchie – Nottingham. UK. – 73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
      Inchcock says:

      No no no no gal… I had to get back on patrol yer see…

      1. Marissa Bergen – Burbank, Ca – This blog is a semi auto-biographical view of my life, beginning as a rocker chick from Brooklyn, moving on to playing in a punk band on New York's Lower East Side, to my current lot in life as a working mother of two, now living in Los Angeles. I love writing because you can be whoever you want to be when you write. Therefore, I would never want to pigeon-hole myself too much in my blog. However, I don't think I will ever deviate too much from what is innately in my blood, that being humor and sarcasm. Recently I have been turning more and more to poetry. I like poetry because it let's you say so much more with so much less, so much more about so little, and it also distances you from the subject matter, making you much less likely to offend someone, which I would probably otherwise do on a daily basis.
        Marissa Bergen says:

        If not for that…

    1. Inchie – Nottingham. UK. – 73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
      Inchcock says:

      Never thought of that at the tome Rachel – I did stop using Barclays bank though. Hehehe

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