Hated Choppers

Sometimes, and it’s generally on a weekend, we are disturbed by a lone chopper that buzzes around our neighbourhood like a pesky gnat. It is sometimes over the park, other times over the round-a-bouts and sometimes over the town. It’s a police chopper so there’s not much you can do about it.

Well, last night was one of those ‘sometimes’. It stopped at around midnight. I was ready to start throwing things at it as it had been buzzing for about two hours on and off. It was over the round-a-bout and straying over the park.

This would have been just an annoying little footnote in this life of mine except for the repercussion. When I walked up to the shops this morning I was accosted by a young girl, looking confused and lost. She asked if I knew the way to Sainsbury’s. I told her to walk with me and I would show her the way. I can be quite the messiah when I want to.

She explained that her dad had been driving her to work (she was about 20) but had had to stop because the road was completely taped off and the police were turning everyone back. Indeed, as we passed one of the roads that come up to the park, there were SOCOs (Scene Of Crime Officers) everywhere, measuring things, putting down the little plastic things with numbers on them. It was all very CSI.

I bid farewell to my charge, pointing her in the right direction as I ventured on towards Waitrose. Upon my return, apart from being glad that I didn’t find her wandering, still lost, among the trees, I strolled purposefully up to the police officer in charge and said:

“I say, my good man, can you tell me what has transpired here?”
“No, sorry sir, it is an ongoing investigation.”
“May I enquire, then, whether this could be a possible explanation for the annoying helicopter and it’s infernal racket above my house last night?”
“Yes, sir, that will be it.”

Damn the criminals!