Reputation Surpasses Ability

I met Geoffrey whilst living in Coral Gables, Florida, sometime in the early 80’s. An educated Londoner, he was always ready with a witty retort to any slight or insult I might throw at him.

On one occasion when I mentioned that he appeared to be getting a trifle large around the backside, he looked down his nose at me and sniffed, “Lawson, you don’t drive a railway spike with a jeweller’s hammer.”

It emerged that Geoffrey had once worked at the legendary Scotland Yard police headquarters in London.

During one of our many sessions at our local bar, I asked him if there were any ‘bent’ coppers working out of the Yard. He mulled the question over carefully before replying, “As far as I know, only two: My boss and myself.”

Normally, I have nothing but contempt for criminals who hide behind a badge, but from what Geoffrey told me of the exploits of him and his boss, they seemed more like a pair of Robin Hoods rather than real criminals.

Apparently, a few of the lads from the Yard drank at the same pub as some of the villains.

“One night,” Geoffrey told me, “I was downing a couple of pints when someone I knew as Sid—a gentleman of dubious character—took me aside and thrust an envelope into my pocket. ‘See what you can do for Blackie,’ he said.

“Well, Blackie was an old lag who’d managed to skate by the law for most of his life. But this time he’d been well and truly stitched up. This time he was going away for a few years and there was absolutely nothing I could do to help him.

“I palmed the envelope back to Sid and told him, ‘Blackie’s had it this time. There’s nothing I can do.’ But Sid wasn’t to be deterred. ‘I know you can help,’ he says, shoving the envelope back into my pocket and slipping away.

“Well, by some miracle—and it truly was a miracle—Blackie managed to get off.

“The next time I’m at the pub, Sid sidles up to me and thrusts another envelope into my pocket. ‘Thanks Geoff,’ he says with a wink. I hadn’t done a bloody thing!”

Edited by Davina