My house was also not without its mysteries. I bought it from an elderly Irish man who seemed to be a heck of a hurry to make it back home to County Mayo. In his leaves of absence before selling up, he frequently had unfriendly people knocking on his neighbour’s door, looking for him.
On completing the purchase of my property, I had some pals come to case the joint before I moved in. Quick as a flash, they found a set of step ladders at the bottom of the garden, brought them in the house and used them to haul themselves up into the loft. They emerged carrying a couple of items – a chain saw; and, a Victorian gentleman’s walking cane, the handle of which could be pulled out from the stem to reveal a lethal looking sword attached to it.
A few weeks later, I prised a small piece of linoleum away from my bedroom floor. It had been tacked down with short nails and hid a saving’s book with the Leicester branch of the Allied Irish Bank. It contained seven thousand pounds – Quite a fortune now, and a lot more back then.
I rang the central police station in Leicester, which was probably my first mistake. The desk sergeant consulted with a colleague and asked if I could drop by with the savings book ASAP, so that they could close the station for the night, and all go out with the proceeds. I think he was joking but handed the account book in anyway. A few days later, I called bye to ask if they had spent it all yet, but the sergeant professed complete ignorance about the case. He was though sporting a newish looking cartier watch, with which he checked for the time every thirty seconds.
Spring arrived and I found myself digging over a plant bedding area in the garden. About a foot down, I unearthed a couple of refuse sacks which contained the remnants of burnt documents. I showed them to Keith my neighbour, who then recanted the tale of his wife and himself frequently picking up radio wave interference on their TV set, which they felt was Paddy, as they called him, staying in touch with his IRA handlers. But maybe now we were all getting carried away with our over imaginative selves.
