Kevan's Police Run In

Well what a week... I love Christmas and all it means. I love sharing it with my family, going to church in the morning and lunch together afterwards. And I love recovering on Boxing Day, having a quiet one to get over the hype.

But our boxing/new year week seemed to be a particularly busy one. Each day we endeavoured to do something different. Monday was a trip on the boat with the boys, then to Mum's for dinner. Tuesday was going on the trail bikes. Wednesday was out on the boat again in the morning, then coming home to get ready to go to Ben's for his New Year's Bash. During the afternoon, dad dropped home the boys' bikes (bicycles, not the trail bikes) and left them tied up in the trailer, right up the back of the yard, just in front of the shed. In our busy-ness we saw them in there, but were busy trying to get ready to go out. "They'll be okay, they're tied up in the trailer, in the back yard, not visible to the public etc".

Had a great New Years. I might of had a bit too much fun with Karaoke and an ABBA album, but I'll never admit it publicly. Although, my rendition must've made an impression because it wasn't long before other friends (not at the party) started commenting on it!!

But I digress... All in all we were so busy it took a day or two to notice the bikes were missing. Untied, ropes strewn about, bikes gone. Not Christmas presents, but they were brand new only 5 mths ago. Oh and expensive enough too. How did anyone know they were in the trailer? It was in the back of our yard! Then the realisation sinks in that someone must've been fossicking around our back yard, and that's not a nice thing to think about. Fortunately nothing else was gone.

So off to the Petrie Police station to report the theft. Kevan was in the process of describing the bikes etc. Did we keep the serial numbers? No - well you don't think of that at the time... Anyway, so Kevan's describing the bikes (giving out distinguishing features, even still have the receipt of purchase etc) when another constable walks up and says, "I think the gold one was handed in yesterday." Sure enough, it was Lach's bike! Someone had found it dumped in their front carport, so they rang police and reported it! So Kevan asked for the address where it was found, sure enough - only two streets over. Mongrels. At least they were stolen by idiot kids who didn't know the bikes' value and therefore didn't try to onsell them. Or pawn them.

Oh well - one bike recovered, one to go. That was the Friday. So on Monday afternoon, Kevan picked the boys up from Vacation Care, and they were particularly down because the next day was 'bring your bike' day. Although we knew Lach's bike was found, the police still had it because they wanted to finish 'processing' it etc. So Kevan decided to drive down the street where Lach's bike was dumped, just to have a look. And sure enough, just one house over & across the street from that location, was a wheel and a green seat sticking out behind a brick fence. So Kevan went to have a look, and sure enough it was Harry's bike!

Immediately we rang the police, told them, and asked them to come. That's when we really got the run-around. Could be hours, they were busy. This was 5pm. So we're waiting, waiting, waiting - no police come. Kevan called them - call operations centre was what he was told. So he called: "yes Mr Goff, we're very busy tonight, we'll assign it to a car in due course". More waiting. No police. It's 9pm now - four hours after we called. Geez, glad it wasn't for a domestic disturbance etc. So Kevan called again, "yes Mr Goff, we're still very busy, it'll get assigned to a car at some point and then someone will respond". I mean, I know it's only a kids bike - but it still is stolen property after all - but five hours now with no response... seems a little bit rich. Guess they can't spare anyone off the Camera's...

By 10pm it is apparent they're not coming. And we're getting anxious because we just want the bike back. So we call again - still not allocated. So, Kevan went and got the bike. End of story, off to bed.

Sometime later: bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. It's the police. They came. At 11pm. "There's no issue now - we've got the bike back". Boy did their tone and demeanour change. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GOT THE BIKE BACK?". "I went there and recovered my property". "AND WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO DO THAT" "Well it's my property" "THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO GO THERE, DOES IT?". "Well, it's been five hours and no one.." "STOP RIGHT THERE. DON'T YOU DARE HAVE A GO"

Gettin a bit hot now. Suddenly we're the bad guys. Suddenly we have to prove it's our bike. Here's the receipt. "That tells me nothing. How can you prove it's your bike?" Well it's a green Mongoose Pro Motivator Mini... "Anyone can have that bike". Yes but these are the features... "Well any bike can have those features". Yes but these are the specific, distiguishing features, chain guard removed... "Any bike could have a chain guard removed". Yes but the chain guard, plus this scratch... "Any bike could have a scratch". Yes but the fact it was the exact bike, matching this exact description, located only one house down, across the road from where our other bike was recovered.

"That's all just CIRCUMSTANTIAL - doesn't necessarily mean anything". How on earth did we end up with Sargent Tackleberry on a power trip?

Surely it's sus - we know that this was our son's bike, same features, same marks, AND it was over the road from the place where the other stolen bike was recovered, and we've already proved to the Petrie police that we owned it (because of it's distinguishing features - which the much nicer police at petrie were only too happy to accept), plus we have a receipt for that exact make and model, and can instantly recall how and when and where it was bought. But what do we know? Obviously nothing worth a cracker to these power freaks.

"We're going to go over there now and if they say they own it, we'll be coming back to arrest YOU." Kevan said, "well they'll have to prove they own it." When Tackleberry retorts, "THEY DON'T HAVE TO PROVE ANYTHING. IF THEY SAY SO, THAT'S GOOD ENOUGH."

Excuse me, is this the twilight zone? Where is the hidden camera? Candid Camera still a show??? Okay, so we get this straight - we have to jump through hoops to prove this is our bike: the receipt, description, marks, circumstance - all mean jack coming from us. But them? No, they just have to say it's theirs. Unbelievable. Off go the Sargent Tackleberry's into the night. We sit down shaking just a little over what's just happened. My heart is racing....

Half an hour later... bang, bang, bang, bang again (and boy do they bang!). "Ah, Mr Goff" (phew, we're back to nice guy Tackleberry again) "those people said they've been away, and have people coming and going all the time..." (druggies, maybe?) "and can't identify who might have brought the bike there... (hello - who LIVES there? And why didn't they report it found, then? Maybe because they stole it?) "and don't wish to make a claim for ownership of the bike..." (duh!) "and so you're very lucky." zrrrpp. We're lucky?

Unbelievable! Did they question them? No, becuase they don't wish to make a claim for ownership. And yet - WE - the OWNERS - get put through the THIRD DEGREE, and are threatened with arrest!

"So we'll come around tomorrow to finger print the bike. Have a nice night". Unbelieveable. Good night, Tackleberry, go back to your Camera...