The Last Night on the Beat

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The Last Night on the Beat Page 1

by Harry Morris




  …

  Dedicated to my wee mammy Flora … X

  …

  Also available from Harry the Polis

  Even the Lies Are True

  Even More Lies

  Nuthin’ Like the Truth

  Ye’re Never Gonnae Believe It!

  Aye, That Will Be Right!50

  Ah Cannae Tell a Lie

  Up Tae My Neck in Paperwork

  There’s Been a Murder!

  It Wisnae Me … Honest

  Look Who’s Up For A Blether

  (DVD LIVE AUDIO PERFORMANCE)

  This wee poem, to a lot of police officers in the service, epitomises what policing a community is all about.

  Therefore, I could not do a book with the Best of… and not include it. Everywhere I perform my stand-up shows,

  I’m asked to recite it.

  Read on and see why!

  I’m Just a Man Like You

  …

  I have been where you fear to be

  I have seen what you fear to see

  I have done what you fear to do

  All these things, I have done for you

  I am the man you lean upon

  The man you cast your scorn upon

  The man you bring your troubles to

  All these men, I have been to you

  The man you ask to stand apart

  The man you feel should have no heart

  The man you call the man in blue

  But I’m just a man, just like you

  And through the years, I’ve come to see

  That I’m not what you ask of me

  So take these handcuffs and this baton

  Will you take it? Will anyone?

  And when you watch a person die

  And hear a battered baby cry

  Then do you think, that you can be

  All these things that you ask of me?

  I’m just a man like you

  Contents

  …

  Title

  Dedication

  About the Author

  Cheers Clarky

  Fatal Road Accident

  Polis Ansaphone

  The Tasmanian Devil

  Don’t Panic Missus Mannering!

  Kids, You’ve Got To Love Them

  Fooled You

  Unisex Toilets

  Cathy’s Meals

  Tell It Like It Is!

  David Hay Said He Will Pay!

  Howard’s Big Regret

  On The Bus

  Trampoline

  Morris’s Safety Motto

  The Sixth Sense

  Now That’s Magic!

  Wee Jock

  My Deaf Wife …

  It’s In The Stars

  Guess My Age!

  What’s He Like?

  Little Arrows

  It’s In The Bag

  Mini’s a Bargain!

  Name That Tune

  Will Power!

  Donald & Johnny Ramensky

  All Bets Are Off

  Who Was That?

  The Heilan’ Coo!

  Timex Watch

  Talking Too Much!

  The Polis Interpreter

  Got A Light Mate!

  Window Cleaners

  Guns in the Family

  Surprise! Surprise!

  Lucky Tatties

  A Clash of Personalities

  That’s My Dad!

  The Job’s Fucked!

  The Wembley Weekend

  Lucky Me!

  He’ll Go Nuts!

  Hearing Things

  The Truth, The Whole Truth

  I’ll Tell Him Tomorrow, Maybe!

  No Armchair Stampede

  Elvis Lives

  Ladies and Gentlemen – Ben Doon

  The Spark-le is Still There

  Relief, For My Relief!

  Blowing Your Own Trumpet

  A Midge’s Dick!

  What a Plonker!

  We Live in a Concrete Jungle

  Cobblers

  Roast Chicken and Chips

  J.F.K.

  Dr White at Your Disposal

  Prison Riot Solution

  Open the Door

  Soft Hands That Do Dishes

  It’s Good Too Talk

  The Taxi

  What Do You Mean?

  Nurses Can’t Be Trusted

  Watch Yer Car Mister?

  Who Are You – Pinnochio?

  The Pink Slip

  Who Let Them Go?

  Sumjerk Ramdmakhar

  The Mushroom Joke

  A Tight Situation

  You’re Nicked!

  Answer The Phone!

  That’s What She Said!

  CSI Not Required

  Dusty Bin

  Playing It Cool

  High Court Trial

  Television Psychic

  Recognition At Last

  Alfie and the Star Wars Game

  Frankie, The Make Up Artist

  Passive Smokers

  Answers from Police Scotland Exams

  Show Me Yer Jean Brody!

  No Age Limits

  The Patient’s Armless!

  My Uncle Tommy

  Profumo Affair

  The Traffic Camera

  Bethnall Green Escort Duty

  Bloody Witch Doctor!

  Jackie Barnes

  The Wedding Party

  Gentlemen Joggers

  The Mimic

  Fighting Fire With Fire

  You’re Not Dead!

  Friends Re-united

  Hughie’s Tortoise Room

  Chap at the Door

  Superglue The Locks

  No Smoking

  Happy Clappy with a Whisky Chaser

  The Medical

  The Special Olympics

  Someone To Talk To

  He Fancies You

  A Word in Your Ear

  The Birthday Cake

  The Cigar Man

  Something’s Missing!

  It’s A Knockout!

  Fishing For Jaws

  Night Out, Now and Again

  All For a Packet of Crisps

  Fun With the Buses

  And Finally

  Harry’s Whisky Mince Pie Recipe!

  Copyright

  Cheers Clarky

  …

  During my training at Tulliallan Police College, Jimmy Clark and I were always in trouble and regularly given punishment details. Not for anything bad, I might add.

  One particular punishment was for parking in the wrong area. As Junior Division recruits, we were detailed to help out at the final qualifying-night ‘party’ being held for the senior division following their final passing-out parade.

  This entailed Jimmy and I helping to serve them with their meal then, when they had finished eating, we would be required to clear the tables and collect all crockery and cutlery for washing.

  During this part of the evening, all the senior division had entered the Crush Hall, where they had a bar and a disco set up.

  Once we had finished clearing up, Jimmy and I were about to leave when we were instructed to attend at the Crush Hall and help the bar staff collect the empty glasses!

  Under protest, we both attended and, as we entered, the party was winding down, although there was a good majority of them still on the floor dancing.

  The tables were laden with drink as we both went about, weaving our way in and out with our trays, collecting the empty glasses.

  At one table there were a lot of full glasses so Jimmy and I decided to clear up quicker by helping to empty them.

  I had the whisky and Jimmy had the vodka.

  Every time a table got up to dance, Jimmy and I would move in like the
man in black in the Milk Tray advert and, during their absence, we would help relieve them of their hangover by draining their glasses for them!

  It turned out to be one of the ‘best’ punishment details we were ever on… Hic! Cheers, Clarky! Hic!

  Fatal Road Accident

  …

  I once attended a fatal road accident, whereby, armed with a photo of the female victim, I attended her home address. I knocked on the door which was opened by her husband and showing him her photograph, I asked, ‘Is this your wife?’

  ‘Yes.’ He replied immediately.

  ‘Well, it looks like she’s been hit by a bus!’

  Too which he responded, Maybe so, but she’s got a great personality!’

  Polis Ansaphone

  …

  I always wanted to record this and play it for a laugh.

  ‘The Strathclyde Polis are not here right noo. So here is what we’d like you to do. Leave your name, your number and a message too and we will get right back to you… . ’

  NAE CHANCE!

  The Tasmanian Devil

  …

  During the World Pipe Band Championships at Bellahouston Park, in Glasgow, I was engaged in motorcycle patrol duties in the park when a young man, dressed in full Highland regalia, tartan kilt and all, approached my partner John Knox and myself and identified himself as a serving police officer from Tasmania, visiting Scotland to take part in the championships.

  He asked if he could take a photograph of John and I on our police motorcycles, to which we readily agreed.

  He then began to set up his camera, using a light meter and changing lens and filter.

  While he did all this, I interrupted him and suggested he take his photograph from the opposite side, whereby he would also include all the competing pipe bands in the background with their variety of colourful tartans on display.

  ‘Great idea’! He agreed.

  He then proceeded to check the light meter again, changing the camera lens and filters for the new angle I had suggested.

  Satisfied he had the correct lighting filters fitted, he began to focus his camera on us.

  He then knelt down on the grass to capture his prized photograph, when – bonk! – in true commando-style Scottish-kilt-wearing, I witnessed a most unexpected surprise, as down from below his kilt and onto the grass below dropped his rather well-endowed penis!

  This was definitely a 100-per-cent-genuine Tasmanian Devil!

  If I didn’t know better, I’d have sworn it was eating the grass!

  As it was, it certainly appeared to be feeding on something!

  At this point, two elderly women were passing and one of them an interest in what was happening with us.

  On seeing the aforementioned exposed ‘Tasmanian Devil’ in full view and full colour, she grabbed hold of her friend’s arm and in the loudest whisper I’ve ever heard, she said, ‘Peggy! Peggy! Quick! Would you look at the size o’ his cock? It looks like a wean’s arm hanging oot a pram!’

  Peggy turned around and looked on in amazement, then said to the young photographer, ‘I bet you’re not from around here, son?’

  ‘No, ma’am,’ he replied in a proud voice. ‘I’m from Tasmania!’

  ‘Of course you are and you’re obviously eating your five a day ’cause you’re a fine specimen of a boy!’ Peggy said.

  ‘Why thank you, ma’am!’ he said, happily blushing.

  ‘By the way!’ Peggy added, ‘you almost gave Cathy a stroke!’

  ‘No he did not!’ interrupted Cathy, then in a wicked girlie voice she said, But I wish he would have!’

  Both women then walked off giggling like a pair of naughty young schoolgirls.

  As for our Tasmanian police colleague, he was none the wiser as to what he had done, or the unexpected thrill he had bestowed upon two elderly Glasgow spinsters on a day out, strolling in the park!

  However, I often wonder, thinking back to that day, if that is why all photographers, use the saying, ‘Watch the Birdie!’

  Don’t Panic Missus Mannering!

  …

  I attended a call from a young couple, reporting they had not seen their elderly neighbour, Missus Mannering, for some time.

  She lived on the top-floor flat of a tenement building on the main street of Rutherglen.

  I asked the usual questions of them, ‘When was she last seen’?

  ‘Three days ago, when she returned from a visit to her son who lives in Morecambe!’

  ‘Has she any family relatives or friends up here?’ I asked.

  ‘No relatives, but she has a male friend who left to go back home, prior to us contacting you!’ replied the neighbour.

  How old is her friend and did he gain entry to the house?’ I enquired.

  ‘He’s in his seventies and he was at the door for ages, trying to get in, but there was no reply!’ he answered.

  I then began knocking loudly on her door but, like her neighbours before me, there was no response from Missus Mannering.

  The young couple was beginning to think the worse for their elderly neighbour.

  I informed them, that the next step in the proceedings would be to consider using ‘force’ on her front door to gain entry.

  The neighbours were in agreement with this course of action.

  The door was large and solid with a decorative glass pane above it.

  There were three locks fitted, but only one appeared to be in use.

  I then performed the statutory polis action – by opening the letterbox and having a good sniff!

  Now, I’m not sure why we always do this, because most old people have a certain smell about them, and without sounding disrespectful, I’m sure you know what I mean, but if you don’t, it’s that musty smell of Abernethy biscuits and piss!

  Anyways, it looks good for the punters hanging around, before I get down to the real business of systematically demolishing the auld yin’s nice door.

  ‘Right, stand back please and give me some leg room,’ I said, as I used all my force, coupled with my size 9 Doc Martens to boot the door lock.

  I had to perform this action three or four times, before – crash! bang! wallop! – and the door burst open under my pressure.

  As the door lock gave way, it swung open, then due to the force I had exerted, it crashed again, as the door safety chain that was fitted, broke, causing the door to strike a mirror hanging on the wall behind the door, dislodging it off the wall and culminating in it smashing into several pieces as it hit the floor.

  Then, before the door swung back to the closed position, the decorative glass pane above it shattered due to the impact, raining glass down onto the stair landing.

  Once the dust had settled, I entered the apartment, pushing the door and the broken wood and glass debris aside.

  As I entered the hallway, I was stunned and surprised to see the small frail like figure of Missus Mannering, with a look of fear etched across her terror stricken face, standing halfway up the hall staring back at me.

  I had to react quickly to calm the situation, so I put my hands up, in a typical Basil Fawlty-type manner, and like Clive Dunn’s reassuring character, Dad’s Army fashion when all appears lost, I shouted at her, ‘Don’t panic Missus Mannering! Don’t panic! It’s all right dear, it’s just the police, checking to see that you’re safe and well!’

  ‘SAFE AND WELL!’

  Her shocked facial expression gave the impression that I had rapidly accelerated her sell-by-date and she was about to drop down dead at my feet, there and then!

  I then approached her, put my hands on her shoulders, spun her around and ever-so-gently, led her totally stunned and shocked tiny frail figure, towards the living room area. We were followed closely by the young couple, who appeared extremely awkward and embarrassed by what had occurred, due to their obvious concern for their elderly neighbour.

  I made my apologies for the damage caused and quickly passed the buck by adding that I was acting on her young neighbour’s advice and
their genuine concern, that she may have suffered a sudden illness or fallen over, injuring herself.

  I then asked the neighbour to make her a cup of tea and if possible, slip a couple of valium into it, as she appeared to be suffering from a severe shock to her system!

  After some tea, accompanied by some welcome, comforting hugs and cuddles from the young female neighbour, (which I thoroughly enjoyed, to the annoyance of her husband). Only kidding, it was Missus Mannering she was cuddling.

  With some TLC, Missus Mannering recovered from the terrifying surprise of her unexpected gatecrasher.

  TLC in this scenario referring to ‘The Loony Cop’!

  I left in the knowledge that the young neighbour would replace the glass and effect the repair of the demolished door and locks.

  This being the case, I wished them all the best.

  They thanked me for my professionalism, after which I made a hasty Gung Ho retreat, whilst Missus Mannering was still breathing on her own, without any assistance.

  However! Please don’t let this story put you off contacting the police if you haven’t seen your elderly neighbour for a few days.

  Remember!—we are here to assist you, the public. It just might be a good idea not to call me!

  Kids, You’ve Got To Love Them

  …

  A colleague of mine received appreciation letters from a local primary school, thanking him for showing them around the police station during their recent visit.

  However, one letter stated, ‘Thank you for letting me visit your police station. Until I met you and your police colleagues, I didn’t know what a criminal really looked like up close’.

  I do hope my colleagues did not confuse the child!

  Fooled You

  …

  A good colleague of mine in the police had a twin brother working in another part of Glasgow.

  Both brothers, Stewart and Clyde, were well known and instantly recognisable due to their appearance. They were, as we say in Glasgow, ‘as black as two in the morning’!

  On this particular night, Clyde was working in the Parkhead area of Glasgow and responded to a call, from an officer in the Bridgeton area requiring urgent assistance, with a serious disturbance, involving several youths fighting.

  He made his way at speed in his police vehicle to the location and as he arrived, the youths responsible ran off in all directions.

 

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