Nicked!

You go for weeks without seeing a bobby, and then six come along all at once!

Toddling down to the newsagents for my copy of Gra*ia just now, my glass eye nearly popped out of its socket as round the corner of Augusta Road marched half a dozen of our blue uniformed finest in stab vests. One was carrying a battering ram. My initial reaction was to rummage through the old grey matter in pursuit of any unpaid parking fines I may have neglected, but to my relief they brushed right past.

Naturally curiosity got the better of me, and I watched as they proceeded to make a forcible entry into one of those grimy residences on Truro Road. Much shouting and screaming from a top floor window, including the words: GET THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH NOW!, ensued.

One can only assume that they were on the trail of another of our talented local, er, horticulturalists. And they say nothing happens around here.