Mum's the Word
Given all the crap that's floating around about the NZ police at the moment let me share this little yarn which dates back 20 or so years in the small country town where I grew up.
The local police station had been subject to an arson attack (suspicion being it was lit by the cops who were sick of their ancient poky digs) meaning they were operating out of the old courthouse
building down the road.
However, following the annual cannabis plantation raids, they chose to store their confiscated pile of dope plants in the cell one weekend ahead of impending incineration on a Monday morning.
Lo and behold they turn up on Monday and the plants were gone.
Unfortunately for the enterprising thieves the planst had wilted and were prone to shedding their leaves. The jig was up largely to the early risers of the town who'd spotted a group of young men - young men not noted for their civic duty - industriously sweeping the footpaths at 5.30 in the morning.
The police caught our green fingered friends but charges were never laid.
Basically because the youths were quite happy to tell the local paper exactly what they'd done. Something the local Sergeant preferred to avoid.
So the police got their plants back, the lads got off scot-free and everyone was a winner on the day.
[NB I was not one of the young men]
