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  Neighbourhood Watch

  London Borough of Shadwell

  Lakelands Estate Tenants Association

  General Meeting

  To consider action on crime on the Estate

  With:

  Councillor George Blankett

  (Chair of the Housing Committee)

  Housing Department Staff

  Local Beat Policeman

  7.30 Friday 13th October

  I

  Shirley Dixon, long term resident of Lakelands Estate and sometime freelance reporter for the Shadwell Herald-Advertiser, in that she was occasionally paid for her contributions, flipped her notebook shut with a sigh of frustration. Councillor Blankett was making wild promises with an eye on the forthcoming local by-election and the local beat policeman was making wildly optimistic promises more generally. Clearly nothing much was about to change.

  She looked around for Alex and Jerry, but she could see no sign of them, though her not being able to see them amid the general chaos didn't necessarily mean they weren't present. Several emails were called for.

  To:Jeremiah Tombs

  CCAlexandra Adams

  From: Shirley Dixon ([email protected])

  Subject: Tenants Meeting

  Hello

  What a shambles! Can't see how crime level is ever going to be lowered on this estate with people rowing like that. If the local council keeps its promise of Security Patrols and CCTV cameras it might help - but will they keep their promises? I'm betting that Councillor Blankett only turned up because of the by-election next month. Local beat policeman wasn't much help either - like trying to plug a fist-sized hole in the dyke with your finger?

  Shirley

  And the two replies

  To:(Shirley Dixon) [email protected]

  CC:(Alexandra Adams) [email protected]

  From:(Jerimiah Tombs) [email protected]

  Subject: A Shambles

  Shambles? Yes. CCTV cameras? No, they would just steal the bloody things. Councillor Blankett? Yes - Just interested in by-election votes. Whole problem is depressing. Better learn self-defence.

  Jeremiah

  To:(Shirley Dixon) [email protected]

  CC:(Jerimiah Tombs) [email protected]

  From:(Alexandra Adams) [email protected]

  Subject: Tenants Meeting/Shambles/Self Defence

  I agree with your analysis. The only way of seeing a rapid improvement would have been if Councillor Blankett was mugged on his way out of the estate. I notice he left his chauffeur on watch in the car park to see nobody broke into his car during the meeting!

  With so many walkways linking the four buildings and so many entrances/exits this place is a nightmare (paradise if you're a criminal!!!), but we can't just despair. Jeremiah's observation that we need 'self-defence' is an interesting one. What I'm thinking of is not what he meant exactly, but it's full moon at the weekend!

  Alexandra

  II

  Nick Miller was an almost shaven headed mixed race kid, tall and gangling, with a firm conviction that life owed him a living. He felt he had no need of school or talent or effort, because he could just take anything he wanted without working at it. He was fifteen and known to his friends as Dusty - nothing whatever to do with the armed forces' habit of referring to all Millers as 'Dusty': this name referred to the dust he theoretically raised when running away extremely quickly after staging a mugging, so as to establish an alibi somewhere else, should occasion demand it. He had, on this occasion, an accomplice. Johnny Murphy was thirteen, a local white kid, also tall for his age and with a head shaved in admired emulation of that of Nick. He was learning the trade from an experienced veteran villain with no convictions.

  Nick watched Mrs. Elaine Norton get off the bus and look around nervously as she walked towards the estate. Of course, elderly women on the way back from the Post Office on pension days were the most productive targets, but a woman in her early thirties was better than nothing, especially if it was falling dark and she was nervous. He gestured to Johnny, explained why she looked likely for a handbag snatch and they began tailing their target.

  At dusk the estate was less decrepit and ugly but more threatening than it was in daylight. The lights on the walkways made an interesting pattern as they reflected in the wet, even though a few were out, making the pattern irregular in places, and you couldn't tell in the dark that some flats were boarded up. The four buildings - Windermere House, Ullswater House, Coniston House and Derwentwater House - formed a loose square. The centre of the square was a car park and a couple of street lamps were not working. In the near dark you couldn't tell that two of the cars had wheels and windows missing, one was clamped and another had a council warning that it would be towed away if unclaimed by a date weeks before. Across the gaps between the blocks ran walkways, which made fine escape routes for muggers, burglars and lesser troublemakers, as well as a good point from which to spit or drop things on those who passed under.

  Nick and Johnny followed Mrs. Norton at a distance along the rather unevenly lit footpath in the fine miserable drizzle and watched her turn into one of the two entrances to Windermere House.

  "I'll go up that entrance after her," Nick said. "You wait by the stairs at the other entrance. I'll be right down. I'm going to snatch her bag as she gets out her keys by her flat door and then run off."

  The ground floor was well lit - you could see the peeling paint and graffiti, the broken bottles and litter. The entranceway smelt of stale urine and the steps could have benefited from a good wash. The lift was not working and higher up several lights were out on the stairwell. Elaine Norton sighed uneasily as she walked up to the third floor through the patches of menacing shadow. Nick Miller went silently after her, concentrating on the woman. He was concentrating on her so much that he did not notice the presence of a watcher, moving even more silently than he was himself.

  Mrs. Norton pushed open the third floor door. There was no glass in the frame - that was swept into a pile on the landing - and she could quite easily have stepped through the space left by the glass. The door banged to behind her. Nick, following closely, stepped silently through the glassless frame to avoid any sound the door might make. The watcher glided through the frame itself, also without a sound.

  From this point on everything happened so quickly that neither Elaine Norton nor Nick was quite sure afterwards what had happened or in what order, but both were greatly shocked and startled by the turn of events.

  Mrs. Norton took her keys from her handbag and held them up in the poor light to see which was her front door key. Nick took six silent strides and grabbed the strap of her handbag. He pulled. She resisted. Something tapped Nick on the shoulder and said, "A moment, young man."

  Nick yelled in surprise and alarm because he had no inkling of another presence. Elaine Norton screamed in alarm at Nick's attack and in surprise at his yell. Inside the flat, Elaine's dog began barking. The neighbour's dog started barking too. Another animal further down the walkway joined the cacophony. Nick took a desperate grip on Mrs Norton's handbag strap and pulled. The watcher prised his fingers loose and pressed something into his hand as he began to run.

  The walkways were wet and there was no dust to be raised, but he would have certainly raised some if there had been any. He dived through the far door and went down the stairs two steps at a time.

  When Nick arrived panting at the foot of the stairs, Johnny looked at him with a puzzled expression.

  "I thought you were after her handbag," he said.

  Nick looked down. He was gripping a bag of garbage as if his life depended on it.