My Brushes With The Law

Why is it that you feel guilty when being questioned by Policemen, even if you have done nothing wrong.

I have had two “brushes” with the law and both times I felt like a criminal. I thought you might like to hear about them.

The first one happened when I was working in an Accountants office. When I say office, it was a converted Victorian house that still retained all its features like French doors onto the rear garden. My desk was directly next to those French doors. I had stayed on to work late one summer evening, just me. I quite enjoyed it, had the doors opened, the scent of plants coming in from outside and the warm evening sun. I finished my work, washed up my teacup and then closed and locked the French doors firmly. I checked that everything was secure and then went out through the heavy front door, locking it behind me and putting the keys into my bag.

The next morning I arrived at the office to absolute pandemonium. There had been a break-in! There was not much to take except the petty cash box but the people responsible had trashed the place. The French doors were smashed and had blood all over them (one of the villains must have cut himself quite badly). They had the cheek to go into the kitchen and make themselves a cup of tea and devour all the biscuits, so they must have taken their time.

The police arrived, finger-printing began on all the surfaces, on the smashed glass, door handles, in fact - every surface - and then it was our turn. All eyes were turned to me because I had been the last to leave. I knew I was not responsible. After all I had locked those doors and here they were - smashed and broken. Nevertheless, a policeman took me to one side and quizzed me and quizzed me as to what time I had left, had I locked up, had I noticed anything suspicious, how long had I worked there? He even asked me about boyfriends and associates of mine. The questions seemed to go on for hours and hours. Then I had my fingerprints taken. I felt so guilty, heaven knows why.

I did not get much done that day, I felt that everyone was looking at me, thinking that somehow, I must be involved.  I could hardly read my shorthand back and could not wait for the day to be over. Things did quieten down over the next few days, of course, and eventuallythe culprits were apprehended, caught red-handed doing another burglary in the same area. Three youths. The police were nice enough to come back and tell us and assure us that our fingerprints would now be destroyed.

Still, as you can imagine, I never worked late in that office again!

I will tell you about my second brush with the “boys in blue” next time.