Found a van...
...yep, there is a fine line between stealing and finding.

I still maintain that we "found" this van.

A few years ago the price of scrap metal was virtually nothing - it was all in the news etc... but the price of those sorts of things goes up and down like a yo-yo.

In the late 80's/early 90's, the price was also at a low point.

The knock on effect of a tory council and the low price of scrap meant that on every street corner round our way, there was a dumped car.

The council, rather than move the car, which would have cost money, simply put a sticker on the side, saying, "Move this car within 7 days or we will, and then it will cost you." (may have not been the exact words used.)

Of course, being the enterprising young teenagers that we were, we used to wait the 7 days, then toe the car up to the scrap yard where the bloke would sometimes be in a generous mood and give us 10 quid for our trouble.

Well, we used to do this quite a lot. Sometimes, the owner of the car would thank us for doing him a free service (honestly).

One fine Saturday afternoon, we found a long wheel base Transit van. We figured that the scrap-man would at least give us 20 for this beast.

We intended to toe it up to him, take 20 quid, then go and score, as teenagers a prone to doing.

Over the years, my dad has had thousands of cars. Honestly, thousands - he likes cars. All cars.

A knock on effect of this was that he ended up with a large bunch of keys from cars that were scrapped or he simply forgot to pass the spare on when the car was sold.

We went and borrowed this bunch of keys and opened the Tranny up - you could almost look at the locks on old Fords a bit funny and they would open in those days.

We, of course, being inexperienced teenagers tried to start the car - I think the second key turned the ignition barrel. However, it was a diesel van, and we had no idea that you had to wait for the little light to come on to say the plugs were warm enough, and as such we couldn't get the bloody thing started.

Que, "Mozzer" (who, to this day is still a complete psycho while the rest of us managed to grow up a bit) having the bright idea of towing the van to the scrappy with his van (an old Telecom Commer van).

Off he goes to get his van - remember, he's not got a licence or insurance - not even a provisional (which happened to come to his aid a little later in this story).

He comes back, ties a rope on and we're more-or-less on our way.

I think there was about 5 or 6 of us at the time, and most of us jumped into the Commer van, leaving a chap we used to call "Marshder" to steer the van being towed.

We can only have got about 300 yards down the road, when a friend of mine (Dukey we shall call him, as that's close enough) and I looked out the back window to see dozens of coppers everywhere.

I shouted "Shit. Coppers. Everywhere."

"Nah, P*ss off." says Mozzer who was the one driving.

He obviously thought I was trying to wind him up.

"no, he's right" affirms Dukey.

In a matter of what seemed like seconds, we were litterely covered in the men in blue.

Dukey and I ran, hearing in the background, "No, it's ok lads, don't run, we can talk our way out of this one."

That was Marshder.

He was the first one trust up like a turkey on Christmas day and shoved into the back of the Black Mariah.

A few hours later, we met up with a couple of others who were with us who had scarpered in a different direction (oddly, ending up in my dads garage with the thought that there was so little connection that no-one would look for them there.)

When the police actually did manage to reach the vans, which were still attached by rope, there was only one person left, and he'd already been arrested.

One person. Two vans.

Even this lot could work out that there had to be more people than just one involved.

Mozzer, the one who was in the van doing the pulling, had run to Dukeys house and asked his sister if he could use the phone.

This was a family who were not exactly, how shall I say, law abiding.

He phoned the police and reported HIS van stolen.

In the meantime, Dukey and I had met up with a chap (who later was to go down for 4 years in a foreign prison, he's mentioned in another QoTW from this week) and he introduced us to a chap called Jolly Roger (not quite, but again, close enough for identification). Jolly's house was an old smugglers house from the 14 century and as such had tunnels and false panels in the wall etc...

We thought this was the ideal place to hide.

It turns out that it was.

The entire village was crawling with police all night - we, at the time, thought that it was a bit excessive for pinching a van that was destined for the crusher anyway, but still we hid.

Now, Mozzer had walked back down the road at this point and there was a LOT of police officers taking a close look around his van.

In the back of his van (which was also his home) was a three-piece-suite, a coffee table...and hand painted decoration.

The decoration consisted of things like "ACAB" (all coppers are bastards) sprayed on one wall and "Coke is it" across the other.

Not really what you'd like our friends in breast hats to see.

Anyway, he walks past his van (which is now reported stolen) and says, "Oi! So you're the bastards that have taken my van then?"

"Is this your van, Sir" asks, I kid you not, PC Thunder (honestly, that was his name - it was on the report and everything).

"Yes, how come you lot have got it?" replied Mozzer.

There was no answer. He was simply ladened up in much the same way as the first, as if he were about to be eaten on Jesus' birthday and carted off to the nick.

It turned out that that particular van (complete with a golden eagle painted on the side, yep, a golden f*cking eagle!) had been used a few weeks before in an armed robbery.

Us pickled-headed nutjobs, had gone and nicked a van right in front of about 50 coppers, watching it from a block of flats in the hope that the robbers would return to the van to collect it.

Both Marshder and Mozzer were interviewed seperately.

They asked where the van had come from.

"I bought it last night from a man in the pub"

"Where were you taking it?"

"Back to my parents garage so that I could repair it"

"Mr Mozzer, we know you were taking the van from the carpark to take to the scrapyard in the hope of getting enough money to buy cannabis resin. Your 'friend' Marshder has already told us."

To his credit, Mozzer told them that no matter what Marshder said about where they were going, HE was the one towing. If he turned left, the van being towed had little choice, and HE was driving back to his parents house.

The coppers clearly realised that we were just a bunch of kids and nothing to do with the aforementioned robbers, and eventually let the pair of them go, but not without nicking them both for no licence, mot, tax or insurance.

It gets worse.

In the meantime, Dukey's brother had written a note to himself from 'a man in the pub' claiming that he had bought the van the previous night.

He went to the police station and presented them eith the letter, and the police promptly released the van to him, no questions asked.

He then went on, later that week to sell the van for 700 quid and an Alpha TI in part exchange.

...and we thought we were getting a good deal getting 20 quid for it.

When the time came for Mozzer to go to court, the beaks asked him if he had been convicted of motoring crime in the past. He had, and as far as he was aware they already knew that, so fessed up.

The three magistrates went away for 20 mins, came back and stated that there was no record of his previous driving misdemeanors, and in view of his honesty they would only give him 6 points and a 200 quid fine.

Turns out, you can't add points to a licence if you don't have one (probably can nowadays I suspect), and these 6 points never materialised either.

So, sorry for length, but it was a tale of finding something, then losing it, then finding out that the law was an ass.
(dchurch bah, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 19:41, 2 replies)

Hahahaha!
Fucking hell!

You lot seemed a damn site calmer than I would have been had I looked in wing mirror, and seen a dozen rozzers hightailing after me!
( LemonEntryMyDearWatson This time, Moriarty, the hand is on the other foot, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 19:47, closed)

To be honest...
...I was completely shitting myself. My nails were bitten right down to the bone!
(dchurch bah, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 19:52, closed)