A Fair Cop. Michael Bunting
still holding the man in a bear hug, but his strength lifted me from the ground every five or six seconds. Just as Brian arrived, I managed to manoeuvre myself to the man’s side and sweep my leg around his ankles and knock him off balance. I lost mine in the process and as I landed on the ground with the man, I felt a sharp pain in my right knee. Brian quickly joined us on the ground with his handcuffs out and ready. I pulled the man over onto his front, grabbed one of his arms and dragged it behind his back. It was difficult as he was still tensed up. Brian did the same with the other arm. The man’s strength seemed to increase in proportion to his determination to avoid arrest. I knew that getting his hands close enough together in order to apply the handcuffs would be impossible even with the two of us, and so I knelt on him in order to make it possible for me to use my radio, the microphone of which had come unclipped from my shirt and was dangling around like a pendulum.
I eventually managed to call for more assistance. I could already hear sirens in the distance so I knew help was approaching. Within a couple of seconds of making the call, the man again demonstrated his unpredictability. His whole body went limp and the struggle seemed to end without bother. He lay face down on the ground. I didn’t let go of him, though. I’d fallen for tricks like this in the past and I wasn’t going to fall for this one. He remained completely motionless.
‘Pass me the cuffs, mate,’ I said to Brian.
‘Here, Mick, what’s up with him?’
‘Don’t know, mate, but let’s find out when we’ve got him cuffed. He’s tried to have me, has this one.’
To my amazement, the suspect remained still and lifeless even as I applied the handcuffs. He turned his head to the side. His face was pressed against the tarmac. He dribbled from the mouth and continued to breathe heavily. His eyes were closed. The once energetic and vicious man with seemingly killer instincts had now altered into a vulnerable, inert being who seemed utterly overwhelmed by the circumstances.
‘Okay, mate. It’s over,’ he murmured. He opened his eyes slightly as he said it. They were heavy-looking and tired. This time, I knew the struggle really was over.
I asked Brian whether he’d seen the other suspect. He hadn’t. Using my radio, I requested for a police dog to attend and also X-ray 99 (the helicopter) to assist us in the search for him. Brian and I helped the arrested man to his feet and placed him in the back of the car. I removed the balaclava and examined him more closely to see if I knew him. It wasn’t uncommon to arrest the same person time and time again, but I didn’t recognise him. He was white-faced and sweating profusely. It was a real effort for him to keep his eyes open and every so often he’d give in and allow them to close for a couple of seconds. When he opened them, his eyeballs rolled. After a matter of only a few seconds, he fell asleep, which worried me a little.
‘Are you with us?’ I asked him in a deliberately loud voice.
He gave no response. There was a very simple and very effective way of checking to see whether or not he was genuinely unconscious, or whether he was just acting to try to make us take him to hospital before taking him to the station. A lot of prisoners do this, as they feel they have a good chance of escaping from hospital, as the police are often put under pressure from doctors to release the handcuffs whilst the prisoner is being assessed. I pinched the lobe of his ear.
‘Arrrggghhh. Fuck off,’ he mumbled and I knew from this that he was probably fine.
Other officers arrived at the scene and a crowd of about twenty people had gathered to watch. This was also very common. I asked one of the officers if he’d transport my prisoner down to the cells. With little fuss, the man was put into the back of a van and driven away from the scene. Brian and I began to walk towards the suspects’ vehicle, which remained with the doors open.
‘You okay, Mick?’ he asked.
‘It’s just my hand,’ I replied. ‘The bastard tried to whack me on the head with a bloody crowbar. He got my hand.’ I looked at it for the first time and saw that there was blood dripping from a small cut along my little finger, which had swollen considerably.
The injury wasn’t serious, and my interest in searching the vehicle intensified as we arrived at the silver Escort. I opened the boot and was amazed by what I saw. There was an array of equipment that was associated with burglaries, ranging from crowbars to cutting tools, several pairs of gloves and a couple more balaclavas, but most strikingly of all there were two monkey masks. These normally fun items, when seen in the boot of a violent burglar’s car, soon take a sinister turn.
I checked the ignition, and it came as no surprise to me that it had been black-boxed (thieves damaging the ignition of a car in order to steal it). In fact, the car had been stolen from Manchester three days earlier. The most alarming items which I found were actually in the door wells: two seven-inch-bladed kitchen knives and a machete. These boys had meant business and it dawned on me that I’d been most fortunate that the man had been carrying only the crowbar. I knew his previous convictions would make interesting and lengthy reading. I’d find this out back at the station.
I took the vehicle into police possession and I requested a SOCO to attend in order to make a full examination. Finding fingerprints or matching fibres to the suspect’s clothing would be useful evidence. I arranged for the keyholder of the premises to attend in order to secure it and reset the alarm. With all this to do, it was well after one o’clock in the morning when I eventually arrived at the cell area to explain my reasons and grounds for the arrest to the custody sergeant. I was pleased to find out that ‘the Monkey Man’ was indeed a prolific burglar and was on bail for a similar offence. I did the necessary paperwork to hand the job over to CID, who would interview him the following morning.
When he eventually went to court, the Monkey Man pleaded guilty to four other burglaries and the assault on me. He received just a four-month prison sentence for the burglaries and a conditional discharge (a conviction without a punishment) for the assault. I received a written commendation from a senior officer for the arrest.
I made the transfer to Millgarth Division in December 1995, just weeks after the job at the Co-op. My first memory is one of bewilderment. I remember spending almost an hour in nose-to-tail traffic, as I made my first journey to the station, a complete contrast to Cleckheaton in the Dewsbury Division, where the journey took fifteen minutes at most. I wanted the change, though, and this was just a small price to pay. I yearned for the challenges of the hectic routine of city policing, something that up to this point I hadn’t experienced.
When I arrived, I struggled into the station clasping onto a mountain of police uniform, which meant that I had to walk sideways so that I could see where I was going. I asked the office clerk to press the buzzer on the door to let me in. She seemed amused as I tripped over my long overcoat, which was hanging out of the pile of clothes I was carrying, and as I sprawled onto the floor, I looked up at her. She politely tried to hide her merriment.
It’s okay, you can laugh,’ I said as I scrambled to my feet. ‘I would.’
‘Are you PC Bunting?’ she asked, rather red-faced.
‘I am.’ I brushed the front of my trousers down with my hands as I stood up. I walked over to the desk and held out my hand. ‘Mick,’ I said.
‘Hello, Mick,’ she replied, letting out a little giggle. ‘I’m Christine. You need to take the lift to the third floor. Your sergeant is expecting you.’
Lift? This was a big place! Cleckheaton was a world away from here, its police station an old converted terraced house. My nerves and excitement amalgamated and I hurried to the third floor, where I found my unsuspecting sergeant tucking into a hearty English breakfast. I thought this might be my second mistake of the day, arriving just as he was on his meal break. He gave me instructions as to where to get my locker key and told me to get settled and he’d see me in ten minutes or so. He looked a little displeased by my arrival at this critical time in his day. I got