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THE KILLING OF JOHN AUGER (part 2)

THE INITIAL INVESTIGATION was headed by Detective Superintendent Reginald Lester of the Norfolk County Criminal Investigation Dept, and after Mr Auger's grey Volkswagen truck, registration number HPW 327D had been found abandoned, and frogmen had searched the port area for the missing safe, the killing made headlines in the major national newspapers. 
 

JOHN AUGER'S VW TRUCK (top picture)

The safe was eventually found in a ditch beside Meadowgate Lane. The tragic irony, and a testament to the stupidity of the criminals, was that the safe had been virtually empty, while the thieves had ignored Auger's immensely valuable collection of porcelain

THE SAFE IS FOUND BESIDE MEADOWGATE LANE

WITHIN DAYS the investigation into Auger's death was moved 'upstairs'. None other than Detective Superintendent Wallace Virgo, of Scotland Yard, was brought in to spearhead the search for the killers. At this point in the investigation, there were over sixty officers involved in the search for the perpetrators. Days passed, as the police rounded up 'the usual suspects'. At first, based on the initial eyewitness accounts, police were looking for five men, and the search was beginning to focus on the Waterlees area of Wisbech. Two weeks after the death of Mr Auger, the police swooped.
David Warden, of Guild Road Wisbech, was arrested in a betting shop in Hill Street on March 23rd, and said, "I suppose somebody has squealed. I was there, but you will have a job to make this one stick" He is also alleged to have said,"You will look sorry if you've got the wrong Warden." and "Even if you are from the Yard, you won't prove anything. I was there....but there was nothing left behind and you know it."
Patrick Joseph  Collins had been arrested at his parents' home in Mosely, Birmingham. He said, "If only I could turn the clock back I would not have done what has been done. I will tell them about it when I get to Wisbech." When arrested, he had tried to hide under the bed, and was told he was being arrested for housebreaking. He said, "Thank God: I thought you had come about something else" He said he had been at Outwell, but denied doing "the thumping" The third man arrested was Barrie Paul Cooper, who lived with his schoolteacher mother at the School House, Sutton St Edmund.

ONE OF THE SUSPECTS IS DRIVEN AWAY BY POLICE

TO BE CONTINUED

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WISBECH HAS HAD ITS FAIR SHARE OF MURDERS.  Some might say more than its fair share. In recent times, we have had, in no particular order, Una Crown, Virginja Jurkiene, Jolanta Dumciuviene, Dainus Kigas, Christopher Garford, Erikas Ulinskas, Alisa Dmitrijeva, Emily Bates and, if you include manslaughter, Fred Barras. For a town with a population of 20,000 or so, this might seem excessive, and you are free to draw your own conclusions from the list of names. But Wisbech was not always an idyllic rural paradise, despite the rosy memories of some residents. In 1967, a brutal killing happened in the area which, although the perpetrators were eventually convicted of manslaughter, achieved national notoriety, and resulted in the case being handled by top detectives from Scotland Yard.

DIAL HOUSE, OUTWELL

On the night of March 10th, 1967, Dial House, an old, sprawling farmhouse in Outwell, was invaded by three men wearing stockings and balaclavas over their faces. The owner, John 'Robbie' Auger. a wealthy fruit farmer, was beaten to death with an iron bar, and his safe was dragged out, and put into his truck, which the killers drove away. Auger's wife had been bound and gagged during the attack, and the crime was discovered when Auger's daughter Audrey, aged 33, returned home to find her stricken father and helpless mother. She alerted a neighbour, saying, "Come quickly, Dad's been attacked.." 

TO BE CONTINUED

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BLOGGING IS A PECULIAR PASTIME. It presupposes so many things. Firstly, that the blogger has something valuable or entertaining to say. Secondly, that the blogger suspects there might be an audience for what he or she has to say. In the absence of anything more productive to do, some bloggers actually seem intent on making a living out of their effort, by attracting advertisers and niche marketers to their site.
REJECTED POLITICIANS are a particular sub-species of blogger. Long after they have faded from public view, they stand like some M&S-suited King Lear, mouthing off into the tempest, resolute in the belief that their election defeat was an aberration, and that they still have an audience.
BUT WAIT…Is not this a blog? Is Pickwick not guilty of the same hubris and self-importance that he criticises others for? Guilty as charged, m'lud. Yes, of course I am. I love words. I love writing them much more than I love saying them. Think of this blog as little more than an elderly gent sitting in front of a recording device, and emptying his thoughts in your general direction. Bloggers are the digital inheritors of the mantle of generations of eccentrics and losers who have stood on boxes in Hyde Park, and berated their deriding audience.
POLITICS AND MORALITY DIVIDE US ALL. Everyone has the answer. No-one has the workable solution, despite what they say, tweet and blog. I grew up in a working class family with strongly traditional values. You didn't lie, you didn't cheat, you played fair, and you voted Labour, even if the rich bastards three streets away were getting away with all sorts, because they 'knew people', and were smart with their investments. I was lucky enough, and clever enough to go to a Grammar School, where I was taught discipline, perseverance, and - most importantly - that 'self' didn't matter. You did things because they were right or because they benefited other people. You opened the door for ladies, gave up your seat on the bus, and were generally what modern class warriors would call an Uncle Tom.
WHERE IN THE WORLD HAS THIS LEFT ME? Basically on a desert island, along with a few other gentle souls who were brought up to be God Fearing, respectful (where it was due) and polite despite provocation. Politically, no party seems to understand my heritage. The Labour party is a lost cause. Conservatives are the Devil's Spawn. UKIP? - they come closest to embodying what I feel about life and responsibility, but they are a candle in the wind, hamstrung with fascist baggage and beset by unchallenged schoolboy reporting by the mainstream media.
BRITAIN IS PROBABLY AS DIVIDED AS IT HAS EVER BEEN. OK, we have done away with The Poor Law, and  workhouses, but we are likely to define the relative poverty of a family by how many Sky channels they can access. What passes for the moral high ground is fought over, captured and retaken with the monotonous regularity of WWI trench warfare. The main voice the Left is a middle-class, twerpy Oxford MA, who fits his Pound-Shop-Philosophising around his frenetic media commitments. Does he return each evening to his grimy brick terraced house, wash the coal dust from his calloused hands, and sink into his bed safe in the knowledge that he has completed an honest day's labour? What do you think? On the other bench we have the  Conservative Party Old-Etonians, who occasionally hand out tit-bits to their more plebeian supporters around the counties, and continue to protect their own interests, and those of their powerful friends. I do support their efforts to get rid of Britain's corrosive 'something for nothing' welfare budget, and broadly agree with the simple idea - "Put something in, and you can take something out." Whether they will have the bottle to clamp down on feckless fecundity is another matter. No matter that we can't afford to feed or clothe them, we'll have as many kids as we want. Because we can. And because someone else will pay.
I HAVE HUGE ISSUES WITH THE CRIES OF 'CHILD POVERTY' that are shrieked whenever someone tries to get a grip of the huge benefits bill. When I used to work with the school attendance team, we were summoned to a house in a certain Lynn suburb, after a mum had said she couldn't get her 15 year old daughter into school. This family were officially 'poor' - free school meals, the works. I went with a woman from Children's Services, and parked outside their council house, taking care not to scratch the silver BMW 3 series parked on their front, with my tatty Citroen. Went inside. Beautifully decorated house. Dad/ boyfriend/partner playing GTA on a a wide screen just a bit short of the one in The Luxe. He didn't even turn round or get up off the couch. "They're out the back mate", was his only contribution. Eventually managed to prevent young lady from throttling mum, and hauled her off to school, having persuaded her to leave her £60 trainers behind, and wear her school shoes. We used to have episodes similar to that three or four times a month - different families, same scenario. Let no-one tell me Britain is not a broken, screwed up society, where decent people slog their butts off to provide for wastrels. 

WELL, THE CONCERNED PARENTS AT PECKOVER SCHOOL have had enough of all this multicultural nonsense. Some of them have organised a petition to prevent their innocent (English) children being forced to learn a Lithuanian song for a concert at the Thomas Clarkson Academy. The children are heartbroken. They are coming home in tears because they don't understand what the song is about.
I have the utmost sympathy for these doughty campaigners. My bitterness and sociopathic view of life is the result of my being forced to learn and sing Frere Jacques at a very impressionable age. Coupled with the time my parents made me dress up as Harry Lauder and sing 'Loch Lomond in the Leamington Spa Methodist Chapel Variety Show in 1953. I had just begun to recover from this double trauma when disaster struck again. I paid a very high price for passing the scholarship exam to a local posh school. The devastating quid pro quo was that I was brutally forced to learn a poem in Latin about some bloke called Horatius who stood on a bridge and whacked the enemies. Those chilling words still resonate in my nightmares:
"Lars Porsenna, Clusinorum rum, per deos ille iuraverat, novem
Maiorem iniuriam pati non Tarquiniae.
Deos ille iuraverat, per novem et dies trysting nominatur,
Ascendemus nuntii eius, et iussit foras,
Oriente et occidente et aquilone et austro,
Accersere ordinata."
There is a tiny, tiny voice in my head that whispers about worthy organisations trying to be too politically correct. We have all heard of councils naming streets, parks and community centres after revolutionary terrorists (sorry, make that Freedom Fighters, and keep the capitals) Our own esteemed Thomas Clarkson Academy has one of its houses/teams called 'Madiba' after the old gentleman currently on a life support system in a South African hospital. But, but, but. One of my most talented guitar pupils is Latvian. She speaks better English than some local born-and-breds. She writes her own songs, and is happy to sing them in English, and Latvian. Contrast this with a comment from a local resident about the Peckover affair on a social media site about Wisbech.
"this is the uk u dount have to sing if u dount wount to stick by ur guns."
I think the scholarly bit that goes after that is "sic erat scriptum"
Maybe the teachers at Peckover were trying a bit too hard. Maybe The Wisbech Standard is just trying to stir la merde again, and shouldn't have given these people publicity. Maybe some people have too much time on their hands.

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 Reflections on the day. The Protest In The Park came and went, enthusiastically supported by our brethren from Lincolnshire. I am told there were more policemen, reporters and onlookers than there were protesters. It was peaceful. It was pointless. I'm not sure if there were any official UKIP representatives there, but there were certainly a handful of 'the usual suspects'. Yes, people are entitled to feel irritated, baffled, resentful and uncomfortable at the sheer scale of migration from Eastern Europe into our little East Anglian towns. But it is entirely legal. It is entirely understandable that people from the broken remnants of the Soviet Union would leap at the chance to travel to a country where there is plenty of opportunities for unskilled workers, a universal and largely free health service, and an education system which may be flawed, but still gives opportunities to children prepared to work hard.
Standing in a Wisbech park, un-noticed and un-cared for by the real people in power, and sounding off against 'the migrant hordes' is as big a waste of time as I can think of. It may have given certain people the idea that they are moving things forward, or setting down a marker. Be not fooled. No-one important could care less. The great mistakes were made years ago, when the politicians danced dreamily into a Euro Heaven of their own making. The divisions in the Conservative Party today show just how complex and intractable the problem is.
The Estonians, Latvians, Lithuanians, Poles, Portuguese and Hungarians are here. And they are probably here to stay. Even if the Conservatives have a 'Road To Damascus' moment, and give us a referendum on leaving the EU before 2017, it can't be made retrospective. So, what's the best way forward? The only possible answer is one word. Engagement. We Brits need to accept where we are and how it stands. Look for the positives. Make an effort. Be the first to start up a conversation with your foreign neighbour. Make sure you chat to the Lithuanian mum waiting for her kiddie at the school gates. Try some of the foreign shops. Unlike the home-grown variety, they certainly seem to be doing well in out town centre.
But this is not a one-way street. If you have emigrated to this country because it is a better place for you and your family, then you have responsibilities. Not responsibilities imposed by law, because this is Britain. It is not Pakistan, or Saudi Arabia, or China. Respect our customs. Value our freedoms. Register to vote, and be part of our democratic system. But first, second third and last - make an effort to learn our language. Don't rely on the fact that there are enough of your compatriots in your street, outside your childrens' school, or at work who speak your language. Most people in Wisbech don't speak your language. It is not easy, as an adult, to learn a complex foreign language, but there is help available. There are free classes for you in the town, at times to fit in with your family schedule. This is your biggest challenge - don't duck out of it.
This sounds like a sermon. But there is hope. While the words of division and conflict were wafting over the green acres of Wisbech Park, there was something else going on. Something vibrant, happy, energetic and positive. At the Rosmini Centre, there was an International Children's Festival. There was music, there was laughter. There was a balloon launch, a bouncy castle and Sumo wrestlers. I don't do slogans, but "hope not hate" seems pretty good, really. I can't think of a time when I was more proud to be part of the Wisbech Community.Follow @wisbechevenmore

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THE DAY THE SKY FELL IN. OR NOT. In the last 72 hours, Facebook and Twitter have been hosting an almost delirious tweetfest of complaints and outrage over UKIP's election successes last week. "I feel as if I have woken up in Nazi Germany," said one. "I have a friend with racist views. If he looks out of his window, he can see the house of someone who voted UKIP", said another. Thank heavens that locally there has been some common sense. Defeated candidate Virginia Bucknor is hoping to set up meetings with new UKIP councillors to see how they can help the campaign to restore the derelict buildings in Wisbech. Samantha Hoy put on her best frock and announced that she was off to have a nice day in the sun.

Good for her. Dave Patrick expressed his disgust at the whimpering from the defeated with this put-down.

MY OWN VIEWS? Well I have to admit I voted UKIP. Yes. There it is. I have come out of the closet. Every minority has its day, its parade, its week, its month. Gay Pride have marches and parades round the world. Is there the remotest chance of an 'English Pride' march ever being held? No? Thought not. I expect it would offend too many stakeholder in our awesome rainbow nation.
BUT HOLD ON FOR A MINUTE. Do I not spend two hours a week teaching a mixed bunch of lovely Eastern European people how to speak English. Are they not unfailingly polite, and always grateful? Do I not come home from these sessions feeling they have given more to me than I have given to them? I also give guitar lessons. Two of my pupils are quite talented. One is from Lithuania and, apart from being musically talented, she has a wit and wisdom far beyond her years. She has a sharp tongue, and does not suffer fools gladly. The other is from Latvia, and she has a smile which could melt icebergs. She plays and sings like an angel, and how she puts up with an elderly has-been as a teacher, I simply don't know. Both of these young ladies, with a young local lad,  will be performing on May 18th, at our International Children's Festival. Trust me. They will be awesome.
SQUARING THE CIRCLE. I have been bettered and enriched by meeting so many of the people from eastern Europe who have chosen to come and live in Wisbech. But we are full. There are no more jobs. There are  no more decent houses. We love you to bits., but we cannot cope any more. I, for one, will continue to work hard at persuading the migrants in Wisbech to integrate and to learn our language. We need to remember that this town, for all its faults, is their home now, as well as ours.

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THE PARTY POLITICAL MAP OF WISBECH has been dramatically redrawn by the results of Thursday's County Council Elections. There has been a clean sweep for UKIP in the Roman Bank and Peckover, Wisbech South, Wisbech North, and Waldersey divisions. The margin of victory in Roman Bank was tiny - just 11 votes - but elsewhere it was substantial.
THERE ARE AT LEAST TWO ELECTORATES IN THE TOWN. Many of the candidates are prolific bloggers and Tweeters and have a Facebook presence. Some have their own websites. Debate on such sites as Wisbech…Oh Dear is intense and can be vitriolic. And yet, and yet. The turnout for this election, on a warm and pleasant May day was pretty poor. On Wisbech..Oh Dear, there was little but disdain for the local Conservatives, but UKIP is regarded with deep suspicion, particularly over its links with far right protest groups. So, did we online gurus get it wrong? Was there a large group of off-liners who had simply had enough?
ROMAN BANK & PECKOVER. This was, for me, the biggest surprise. For all that his Rottweiler approach to discussion and challenge has made me shudder over the last few years, no-one can fault Steve Tierney in his work for his division. He has managed what appear to be complex business interests with tireless appearances at parish meetings and local surgeries, and seems to have always made himself available to people. And yet he is beaten by someone who wrote a virulent and unpleasant letter to the local paper on the vexed subject of immigration.

WISBECH SOUTH. Simon King was another casualty. He was clearly not one of the Wisbech Tory 'ratpack'. He seemed to keep himself to himself, and was unafraid to involve himself with issues which his party colleagues distanced themselves from.On a personal level, he worked very hard to get a school place for the daughter of one of my adult students. The girl has learning difficulties, and had been without a school place for a long time.

WISBECH NORTH. Samantha Hoy was the 'junior' of the Conservative team, both in age and years in post. She won the seat in a by-election in 2010. The online world was lit up by daily reports of skulduggery and dirty tricks. It was rumoured that Dave Patrick (Lib Dem), who had come second in the 2009 election, had stood aside to give Virginia Bucknor (Ind) a clear run. There were constant claims and counter claims between the two ladies that each was doing the other down. In the end, both succumbed to UKIP's Paul Clapp, who had come second in 2009. A footnote should be a word of love and praise for Dean Reeves. He continues to represent Labour in the town, in the teeth of constant knock-backs. If there were any way in which politicians could be appointed rather than elected, he would be a shoo-in. He is a lovely, kind and principled man who deserves better from his adopted town.

CONCLUSIONS? It would take a better political commentator than this one to make sense of it all. That the estimable Gordon Gillick claims that he never knocked on one door, never posted one leaflet and never made one phone call, and is still 'swept to power' perhaps says it all. I have no idea what UKIP did right, but I have a good idea what the Conservatives did wrong. Firstly, and perhaps most forgivably, they failed to distance themselves from their disreputable and discredited political masters at Westminster. The impression was 'Party first, local people second.' Secondly, with exception of Simon King they got it totally and utterly wrong on local issues. Yes, the business of the derelict buildings is principally a District Council matter, but as County Councillors they had influence. And power. And a strong voice. Did they use it? No. The constant mockery of efforts to move things forward on resolving the 'Belfast Building Bombsite', the constant mantra of "This is a lovely town, there are no problems, you are all just too negative," may have been loud, but it was an empty echo. The demise of the preposterous Nick Clarke will hopefully see the end of the 'smoke and mirrors' Wisbech 20/20, which has brought us - correct me if I'm wrong - a few brown signs. Thirdly, the very public cultivation of a triumphant, gleeful Tory clique of town, district and county councillors has sown a bad seed. The seed has grown tall and blossomed into a thriving young tree. My advice - stop slapping each other's backs. Stop leaping to each other's aid on Twitter, like tag-team wrestlers. Stop dancing to the same distorted tune. Think for yourselves, and listen to what ordinary Wisbech people are worried about.
THE CASE OF THE MISSING EDITOR. And finally. Twitter people will have been enlivened over the last months by the constant cut and thrust between John Elworthy (editor of most newspapers in East Anglia) and his targets (mostly Tory councillors, it has to be said) He has taken Sam Hoy to task over her employment record, and Steve Tierney over…well, more things than I have room to mention. But he goes deathly quiet  a week from the election. His Twitter account is suspended. He is alive and well. Fellow hacks have reported his presence at events across the region. Tweeters have suggested he has been got at by none other than the former leader of Cambridgeshire County Council. This is unconfirmed rumour. It may be true. It may be a tissue of lies. But when I lamented his passing on Twitter earlier a certain (ex) councillor replied "good riddance". Which was a lovely song by Green Day, if memory serves. Bon Nuit.