Aberdeen Voice is grateful to Ben Harley, a retired-psychology-student-turned-cartoonist for permission to reproduce his work here. Writer and illustrator, Ben’s comics can be found resting at www.FlockOfInk.com
Cow
Old Susannah aka Suzanne Kelly casts an eye on the past week’s vibrant and dynamic events.
Tally Ho! It’s been bonfire night, which here in Torry means another 7 weeks or so of fireworks at night.
The Members (‘Sound of the Suburbs’) played at the Moorings; the Gerry Jablonski Band is touring Poland, the Opera was in town, and the fireworks went well (better than the last time, when everything went off all at once).
Giant balls and lights are being hung on Union Street for the holidays. Let’s hope the balls don’t drop, like they did a last year.
I bought a wonderful new mattress from Glencraft; the company continues to employ and support people with visual problems and others with special abilities.
It’s just as well it’s still here, those nice ConDems have a plan to save money by taking it away from several thousand people who get independent living benefit. At present a court appeal is saving the day. Let’s hope commonsense prevails at least once. If those individuals and corporations which avoid paying tax paid their fair share, we’d possibly not be in such a position. But they know who they are, and they’re holding onto their money.
Aberdeen Positive (cleverly branded AB+), had one of their inspiring cultural talks this week.
They’re going to give us a cultural identity brand, which is great. BP is of course involved, as are various other businessmen, and RGU admin types (who I’m sure don’t take any direction from web-happy Sir Ian Wood, who is more or less in charge at RGU). Old Susannah tragically couldn’t make their last meeting, but was told a riveting time was had by all.
Sadly someone dared to bring up the subject of Union Terrace Gardens; this dismayed the convener. Happily just at the end, our man from RGU (who’s actually lived in 27 different places, so he proudly boasts – wow!) closed by saying we need a public square. Of course we do.
I’ve spent a happy few hours this past week at BrewDog, you’ll be surprised to hear. They’ve run out of their new creation ‘Hello my name is Sonja’ – which is a blueberry packed delight. Hope it’s coming back soon. There was some pumpkin brew from the US, which was subtle, and perfect for this time of year. And yes, I’ve even bought a few more shares. Me and a few thousand other people.
BrewDog are hiring, reinvigorating the drinks sector in the UK and abroad, and are expanding. If my few quid contribution helps, then I’m glad of it. Cheers all.
It’s a good thing people’s noses don’t actually grow when they lie like Pinocchio’s did; or else some of the great and the good would have to either clam up or hire permanent plastic surgeons. Truth, or the lack of it, has featured largely this past week in the news.
In mythology, Diogenes searched endlessly for an honest man. It seems like he’d have his work cut out for him today. Here are a few definitions to illustrate.
Lying: (English Gerund) To deliberately distort the truth.
Times have changed; and I think people are getting much more honest than they used to be. After all, absolutely no one, no matter what kind of situation they might get caught in, admits to lying these days.
We’ve seen the ‘Plebgate’ case unfold: first policemen accused senior Tory MP Andrew Mitchell of a foul-mouthed rant over a bicycle, which upset the public. Later, Channel 4 obtained the footage, showing no public within earshot at all. The police logs seem to have been creative writing exercises. What followed, when the police and their superiors were asked to explain further, saw one or two innocent little white lies coming to the fore.
Mitchell lost his job, had never used the word ‘pleb’ and it’s proved no such rant actually happened.
Mitchell may have lost his job over this, but don’t worry: all the police involved are still in place, ready to continue to fight crime in their usual virtuous fashion.
The BBC reported:-
“A police officer has apologised to MPs for an “inadvertent error” in evidence to them about the “plebgate” affair.
“Det Sgt Stuart Hinton, of Warwickshire Police, said he had made an “honest” mistake in a previous hearing held by the Home Affairs Committee last month.
“He also said he regretted the “distress” felt by Andrew Mitchell and his family during the whole saga.
“But Sgt Chris Jones, of West Midlands Police, said he had not misled MPs over his disciplinary record. On Tuesday, he told MPs 13 complaints had been made about him but none had been upheld.”
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-24813974
So, no lying there then, just the odd ‘inadvertent error’ and the odd ‘mistake when talking to the Home Affairs Committee. Could happen to anyone.
Just because we assume the police can and should have a head for accuracy and details is no reason to think they’re superhuman. In fact Sgt Jones also managed to forget any claims had ever been lodged against him, but this was soon proved to just be another little mistake on his part.
He seemed very believable to me in his court appearance; first of all, he’s a policeman, and second of all, he was wearing a nice suit. Did the policeman admit to blatantly lying by making up this little story that cost someone a job? Not a bit of it. He does however regret things. I’m sure he does.
So how did the press get all the previous alleged dirt on former MP Mitchell? Er, the police leaked it to them, but I’m sure it was all well intentioned. It’s very bad form for the BBC and Channel 4 to point out these flaws, and to remind us that policemen from the slightly powerful union would wear ‘police pleb’ t-shirts to show solidarity for their ‘inadvertently erring’ colleagues. That’s what friends are for.
It was all going so well against the businessmen involved, who had been granted export licences to Iraq
Perhaps we had expected the politician was lying in the ‘Plebgate’ saga; after all, there have been one or two small instances of politicians lying to us in the past. Even Tony Blair decided to turn an intelligence dossier into a spectacular, sensational, frightening case for attacking Iraq.
Weapons of Mass destruction were poised and ready to take the UK out within 45 minutes; of course we had to have a tiny little war, even if a few million UK residents marched to protest against it. After all, we’re better off, the veterans who went there are better off, and of course the Iraqi people are better off. As is Halliburton and as are a few US tycoons.
Aside from the dodgy dossier, we had the earlier instance of saintly Alan Clark, purveyor of truth back in the days of Thatcher. The Matrix Churchill trial saw gagging orders handed out like sweeties. It was all going so well against the businessmen involved, who had been granted export licences to Iraq. It might have looked like the Government was caught in a web of blatant lies, but that wasn’t the case.
Alan eventually admitted in the face of evidence that he was just being ‘economical with the actualité’. So, once again, no real lying was going on.
Don’t worry, Aberdeen makes the grade when it comes to having honest police. We now have our own local policewoman who managed to avoid being branded a liar and/or snoop.
WPC Amanda Dixon decided that she needed to know a wee bit more about her new Peterhead neighbours; the poor policewoman was in fear they would break the law and rob her. She then merely bent the law a little, and used the police’s STORM database to do a little pre-emptive spying on them. Sure, it might have been illegal, but she is a policewoman after all.
While in the old days, if people wanted to snoop on neighbours they would simply hide behind twitching net curtains and peer, it’s nice to know Dixon is willing to go just that little bit better.
I can’t think why she got into any trouble for illegally accessing personal data in contravention of the Data Protection Act, but the story has a happy ending: she didn’t have to go to court.
Police don’t lie, and they don’t break data protection rules, fabricate notes, and leak info to the papers
Obviously admitting no lawbreaking, Dixon bravely admitted being ‘nosy’.
Thankfully her lawyer told the sheriff that Ms Dixon was too mentally fragile to appear in court and such appearance would be detrimental to her mental health.
I, for one, am so very grateful to the legal system for sparing her this huge trauma of attending court, which clearly would be something a policewoman would never need to do normally as part of her job. You might think she was just trying to evade justice, but surely it is health after committing a crime that’s more important than the people being spied on or the law being upheld.
Now that the police have displayed such compassion to spying Dixon, I await their expedited compassion in offering compensation to George Copland. If you need a reminder, Copland was arrested days after a siege at his empty flat.
The flat was meant to have a gunman in it, although it was empty, and whoever said they were looking in the windows at a gunman would have had to go very close to the house, set away from the main road and peer in deliberately. Perhaps it was Dixon? Anyway, that was in June. No doubt a fair, full compensation deal is winging its way to Copland as you’re reading.
Police don’t lie, and they don’t break data protection rules, fabricate notes, and leak info to the papers. They might sometimes make mistakes, but don’t we all. And if police like Ms Dixon spy, I’m sure it’s for our own good in the end. No doubt her neighbours think so.
Spying: (English Gerund) The act of covertly obtaining information without the person or organisation being scrutinised giving consent or having knowledge.
In this Age of Information, the only thing that’s successfully stopping wars, terrorist attacks, organised crime, and Policewoman Dixon’s neighbours from undoubtedly robbing her is spying. I am very glad big brother is watching. I am very glad that the ‘all-seeing eye’ on American dollar bills stands for something less nebulous than some Masonic symbolism.
Spying is only done when necessary. Sixty Million Spanish telephone calls were intercepted by the US. Yes, that hardly seems like any, and that’s actually the number of calls for a whole year’s worth of listening in. I’d have thought it would be a higher figure, after all the population of Spain is about 47 million: that’s only about a call and a half per citizen.
However, Germany’s Angela Merkel is a bit put out the Yanks have been spying on her personal calls, and there is some evidence to point to the UK helping the US out in these covert activities.
As so many right-thinking people claim ‘if you’re not doing anything wrong, then you don’t have anything to hide’. Quite so. Perhaps we should just give up on the idea of individual freedoms, privacy, intimacy and individuality if it means we’ll all be safer.
It would be churlish to bring up the fact that back in the day, famous cross-dresser and paranoiac J Edgar Hoover had files on millions of Americans. If he needed one of these people to spy on other people, all he would have to do is threaten to expose the personal info he’d collected on them. If we could only get back to those good old secure, happy days – Communist witch hunts, paranoia, government control.
Thankfully, it seems we’re heading there.
Sometimes it might seem that the security forces and police get a bit sensitive about sharing the details of their own activities – particularly when these activities fall into grey areas of law. No doubt if they want our lives laid bare for their legal inspection (or for a less than legal whim, Ms Dixon), they’ll become completely honest, transparent, and law-abiding as well.
I feel sorry for those who make their living from spying on the innocent, that nasty whistleblower Edward Snowden has made life tricky for them and their crucial work. He’s obviously let the world know the extent of US snooping for his own personal gain.
He’s currently living a luxurious life as a fugitive in Moscow somewhere (no – I don’t know where to any government spooks reading this). After all, the people who are willing to look into your and my personal business for reasons ranging from national security to Dixon’s ‘nosiness’ are just trying to make an honest living.
Well, have a good week everyone. And mind what you put in that email, or say on your mobile. Big brother is listening, taking notes, and will be in touch.
By Duncan Harley.
The story so far.
Cody’s gran, señora McLaughlin, has died in far off Santa Cruz at an undisclosed old age and her family have gathered round to say goodbye.
At great expense the old woman’s ashes are brought home after a family whipround.
Following the graveside ceremony, the mourners take time to reflect on her legacy in a clan gathering at the local pub. When the tab runs out, only Danny and Rob are left.
Danny has kept his face hidden throughout the proceedings.
– Why the balaclava?
– It’s a long story.
– How long? I mean, what happened Danny?
The balaclava’d Danny had almost had enough. Persevere or not? he thought. Talk to the man or ignore him? Ach, give peace a chance. What could possibly go wrong? At the end of the day he could always just get up and leave. That is if his legs would carry him through the door.
Aware that he had probably drunk far too much to make that much sense, he began to talk.
– Ach, good funeral eh? Nothing quite like a good send-off is there?
– Maybe. Depends I suppose.
– Depends on what? Ha ha, nobody was there eh! Ashes to ashes perhaps?
– You always were a joker Danny. Ashes, cricket, the crack of the ball against the wicket. All good, all good.
A good funeral indeed. Mrs McLaughlin’s ashes had been interred in the family lair. If indeed they were her ashes. Who indeed could tell the difference between las cenizas de la señora McLaughlin or indeed anyone else’s ashes. The graveside box could have been full of cremated donkey remains for all anyone knew.
– So what’s the balaclava about then?
– Christ, is that all you want to know? I mean for god’s sake, can’t a man wear a wee disguise if he wants to? I mean, what’s the problem? It’s not as if I’m a bank robber or anything.
Now, you’d have had to be blind not to notice Danny’s disguise. A hoodie is one thing but a balaclava is quite something else. Facial recognition was quite out of the question.
In his day, Danny had been quite a catch. The ladies were on to him big time. Good looking, smartly-dressed and his dad owned the local garage. His mum owned the local dress shop. I mean, what more could a lady want? But to enhance his looks with a woollen balaclava was right out of character.
– Aye, the balaclava. Sore point indeed. Sorry I asked. To change the subject completely, how are your verrucas?
Danny had been pals with a few folk in his time. Most had let him down. Most were hangers-on who, when the good times were plainly over, had let him down big time. First the strippers, then the repo business then the jobbing joiners. Quite a story indeed.
Maybe a wee snort between friends would help him open up.
– Of course Danny, if you’d rather not say too much, that’s absolutely fine, you understand. At the risk of repetition, what’s your pleasure? Today we have on offer some white, a few small bags of an off-white dolly mixture, plus some other more euphoric colours should sir require. This stuff may blow your mind big time, all rights reserved of course, and should sir feel unwell, we urgently advise the calling of a G-DOC or similar. All rights reserved, of course, yet again.
Care to partake? Of course we completely understand if sir is as happy as sir appears to be already…
All good, all high and all slightly mad if you know what I mean. After a wee white snort Danny did indeed begin to open up.
– See all that pillar of the community stuff, the “she was a fine woman” and all that?
– Aye
– She was a lady of the night if you ask me. Not shameful, you understand, just difficult times. Plus Jessie lied about the rock cakes. He was only wanting to be a part of the oration. There was never any budgie, that was all made up as well.
– Your point Danny?
– No point really, just saying. That was out of order. Sorry. Won’t mention it again.
– No worries Danny, hard times indeed. The balaclava?
Now, a year or so back, Danny’s long-time school pal had retired from the police. Not one to retire gracefully, he kept tabs on some acquaintances who belonged to the governmental services. At the rank of Inspector, McAllister had done well. From a poor background point of view, he had done really well. Not only that, but he’d kept his hands squeaky clean throughout his time in the force. No unfortunate incidents in the cells and no hint of misconduct had marred his unblemished career.
As a result, it was really no surprise when he received a phone call from an ex-colleague just a month or so after the retiral party. Would he be interested in some part time work? Just a little matter of surveillance you understand, nothing strenuous. Absolutely no personal risk involved. Payment in cash. Just a couple of days a week. Easy money.
In no time at all, McAllister found himself back on the force as an unofficial contractor to HM Customs and Excise.
The couple of days a week turned out to be a couple of nights a week, sitting in an old van in Fraserburgh and Peterhead. The little matter of surveillance involved monitoring the harbours and bars for unusual activity involving the supply of class A substances. The “easy money” bit was true though, at least for a while.
– Are you free a couple of nights a week Danny for a wee easy job? Well paid, you understand, no risk – plenty of cash plus, of course, expenses and professional training will of course be provided.
So that was how Danny got involved. The training duly took place over a couple of weekends.
How to take detailed notes using a voice recorder. What type of vehicle to use, vans are best, no-one will notice you and you can observe from the back without being seen. When shooting video create definite borders between clips by placing hand over camera at the end of each segment.
Make sure a time and date stamp appears on the footage. Always obtain a panoramic video shot of the location and any persons or vehicles, for use as verification that the person being observed was there. Don’t do surveillance by yourself. It isn’t a single-person activity and always keep a roll of toilet paper and an empty plastic jug in your vehicle at all times, stakeouts can last for hours.
There was a talk on passive self-defence and the defusing of potentially violent situations which concluded with the helpful advice “if in doubt about your personal safety, the best thing to do is leg it as fast as you can.”
So began Danny’s new career.
The first few weeks were uninvitingly boring but profitable. Nothing much happened. Two nights a week, Danny and McAllister picked up a van from the Custom House car park in Guild Street and drove to various north east ports.
The first job involved the small but packed marina at Findochty harbour. Situated some four miles from Buckie and on the shores of the Moray Firth, a more unlikely location for the smuggling of drugs could in all probability not be imagined.
A one-pub town, Findochty boasts a population of eleven hundred souls who attend six churches including those of the “closed” Plymouth Brethren and, of course, that Salvation Army. Deserted at most times of day but with the distinct air of eyes behind windows looking out at anything which moved, the excise men would have been better enlisting locals for the surveillance instead of the two men in the red van.
– Operation Moravia. What kind of name is that? Looked it up on the ‘net before we came out. Czech Republic, famous for its cabbage market and the National Salon of Czech Republic Wines. Somebody’s probably been their holidays there. Probably as deserted as Findochty is on a Sunday morning eh?
– Aye, you’re right there. Two more hours, then off home. Can’t wait. Pass the jug.
A weekend in Buckie followed, again with nothing to report. Then came Fraserburgh.
Operation Moravia had concluded with some arrests in Dufftown and Elgin. McAllister had been asked to look out for amateurs moving into vacant territory to fill the vacuum left by the arrests. Men who looked out of place, expensive vehicles parked outside clubs and pubs late at night. Men in suits carrying briefcases. In short, anything unusual in a busy harbour town.
The first few nights were fairly uneventful. A few drunks, a few minor fights and the usual comings and goings. Nothing much to report and nothing too much to film. The instructions were to record number plates for later analysis and, if possible, take photos of the vehicles in the harbour area.
Facial shots of drivers and passengers were also required, providing this could be done from inside the van. On no account were either of the men to leave the vehicle, and if compromised in any way, they were to drive off and avoid any potential confrontation.
– There’s that car again. Third time it’s been round past. Red BMW, two guys in front, might be one in back.
– Got it, what do you think?
– Odd, slowing down just opposite, then off again. Maybe just youngsters. Get a photo if it comes round again.
A few minutes later the BMW appeared again. This time it stopped twenty yards away from the front of the van with its lights off. Three hoodied men got out slowly, as if in no particular hurry. They walked leisurely up to the front of the van and McAllister realised that one appeared to be carrying a small axe.
As the pair watched in disbelief, the man swung the axe and the driver’s side window disintegrated in a shower of splinters, allowing a blast of cold damp November air to flood the interior of the van. The second figure pulled out a small yellow canister and the unmistakable smell of lighter fluid filled the confined space.
– Must be freezing in there pal, here’s a wee present from the Broch to heat you up a bit. Next time you might end up in the harbour. Take a wee hint.
There was a soft whooshing sound accompanied by a blast of heat.
– Jesus, get the fuck oot.
Danny hurled himself at the now partially open back doors where McAllister, having seen what was coming, was standing with a jacket in front of his face shouting something unintelligible.
The stench of burnt hair filled Danny’s nostrils. He hadn’t smelt that since the day his cat nearly caught fire in front of the electric heater a few winters ago. He picked himself up and looked around only to find McAllister standing laughing at him.
– What’s the joke? Have they gone? What’s so funny?
– Your hair’s burnt off on the one side and you’ve only got one eyebrow. Aye, they’ve gone, it was just a friendly warning.
– Friendly? Could have killed us both. Get me out of here fast before they come back.
With that, Danny’s short career as an undercover investigator came to a fiery end. He collected his cash for the job and hid in his flat for a week hoping that the missing hair would grow back in.
Each day, he checked the mirror for signs of regeneration, each night he applied hair tonic bought for him by a sympathetic neighbour.
On the Friday following the Fraserburgh episode, Danny’s phone rang. It was Cody’s sister Annie calling to inform him about her gran’s demise. Could he come to the funeral?
Now Danny had always had a soft spot for Annie. Just friends, platonic you understand, but good friends. He told her about his predicament, about how half of his head resembled a burnt mattress, about his missing eyebrow, about the hair tonic.
– So what did she say?
– At first she just laughed, guess she didn’t believe me. Then she came round for a look and laughed some more. Said it might take months to grow back in and that I couldn’t hide in the flat forever. Suggested the balaclava idea. Winter after all, who would think it odd? Need to wrap up warm and all that.
– Ah right. Well good for you, well done. Must have taken a lot of courage to walk into Guy’s with that on and no shotgun.
Another round was duly ordered, plus some crisps and a couple of cheese toasties. The wee dried-up funeral sausage rolls were long finished. When the toasties came, the two of us munched in silence.
Then, all of a sudden the bar door flew open and a white hoodied figure marched quickly in. Pistol in hand, he walked straight up to Danny and raised his hand in line with Danny’s head.
“This is from McAllister” he said, then pulled the trigger.
(To be continued)
On Friday 7 June 2013, Grampian Police surrounded an empty flat on a curious tip-off that someone with a gun was inside. The owner George Copland was arrested elsewhere on Sunday 9 June. The police spent days tearing his place and his possessions to pieces, leaving an impassable mess behind them. Released without charge, he has had absolutely no help with clean-up and no apology.
Having visited the property at the end of October, contacted the police and Aberdeen City Council, Suzanne Kelly reports.
George Coplands property thoroughly searched and left in a heap. This scene is repeated throughout the house.
George Copland is not well; this is no surprise. He was unjustly, as it transpires, arrested after Grampian Police dramatically lay siege to his empty flat, cordoned it off for days while conducting a destructive search that yielded no evidence of gun crime or any other crime.
He was arrested on the following Sunday even though there was no evidence of any crime, held for some 12 hours, and released without charge.
He is also without explanation, apology, any form of clean-up and any compensation.
Freedom of Information requests have been lodged for details of the arrest, siege and search. The police have not given any comment on the situation.
Normally if someone is the subject of a destructive, intensive, intrusive search and no wrongdoing is discovered, they are entitled to compensation and to having the property restored to its former condition.
And what a condition the flat is in. George gave me a tour – as far as was possible. I was not able to fit into parts of the premises for all of the possessions, many broken, strewn throughout.
It seems items were removed from the loft, examined, and left. Items such as CDs lie around an emptied CD rack, many broken. George enjoys playing with remote control toys; some of which are – or rather were – worth a fair amount of money.
“See this car; it was in perfectly good shape,” he tells me, holding a large, clearly intricate radio-controlled car; its front wheels are missing and it seems to have been crushed.
“They must have stood on it to break it.”
“I’ve had to see my doctor; this is really too much.”
George continues;
“I tried to send photographs of the damage to WPC Niki Trower (an officer who seems to be involved with the case), but she says she can’t access the photos I’ve emailed for security reasons.”
I trust WPC Trower will look at these photos. This is how a man with mental health issues has had his flat left for four months after a raid which arguably should never have happened.
When I visit the house, it is clear that anyone claiming a gunman was inside must have gone up close to the windows: what made the witness or witnesses make such a claim? What led them to look into the windows?
The house is attached to another house, but its windows are not exactly on the beaten path.
The part of the house which is visible from a distance over a grassy area near Provost Rust Drive does not even have any windows. The window near one of the two doors to the flat only has small windows, and unless someone specifically went to the back of the house and peered in, there is no way they would see anything there.
Then we come to the other door. The main entrance to the flat is down a short path, and past the other attached house. Unless someone were coming to visit the other house and continued on to George Copland’s front door and peered in the windows, they would not readily see anyone.
No one would have any business going down this path unless they were visiting the neighbour or George; if visiting the neighbour, what would have made them continue past the door of their destination and look into George’s windows?
George tells me:
“I had aeroplanes hanging up in the bathroom; they were taken down and thrown in the bath”
Everywhere is the sight of broken toys and goods, some smashed, some clearly deliberately dissembled – while police apparently looked for an invisible gunman with non-existent guns.
Famously (as reported in The Sun), the police apparently tried to suggest to Copland and get him to agree that a remote control and a feather duster could have been taken for weapons. Who was meant to be brandishing the imaginary weapon or even the feather duster is still a mystery, as we know as the police knew when they arrested Copland the flat they surrounded for 8 hours was empty.
George does not have a copy of the police report yet, but the police are, perhaps unsurprisingly, adamant that the siege was justified and the witnesses were trustworthy.
Aberdeen Voice will report further on the details when they are released.
Turning again to the main entrance door – it had been broken in, and is now bolted into place, unusable. If there were a problem such as a fire (not inconceivable, given the state of the place) there is only one exit now where there would have been two.
The windows are too high to be utilised for the purpose of fire escape.
The Council have been approached about their failure to mend this door; apparently it takes weeks and hundreds of pounds to get a specialist door like this replaced.
This raises some interesting questions about procurement, keeping spares around, and how we wound up with such an expensive item with such a long lead time on the City’s budget. Let’s hope no other vulnerable people need a replacement door in a hurry.
In terms of expense, the siege and search will have cost the taxpayer a considerable sum.
Surely the responsibility for having misjudged the situation so badly sits squarely with the police, and restitution, if not apology, are long overdue.
There seems to be nothing the Council can do about the mess and destruction; this indeed should be resolved by Police Scotland immediately.
Too much time has gone by; too much stress has been caused.
The Police will be put on notice that a formal complaint and legal action will be started if there is no positive development forthcoming.
One anonymous donor has come forward; others who wish to support any legal action are welcome to contact Aberdeen Voice for details.
Some politicians have been trying to help, and it is appreciated, but so far, nothing has changed for George, except that the strain is causing his health to deteriorate.
If we don’t live in a police state, let’s prove that now, and get Copland the help, flat clean-up and restitution he is clearly due: NOW.
The city was shocked in the summer when it emerged that a police incident, reported as a stand-off between police and an alleged armed individual in an Aberdeen house, turned out to be a hoax. The reverberations are still being felt but questions remain unanswered.
The history
7 June 2013 – armed police surround an empty property, on reports that a gunman is inside. The flat was empty.
9 June 2013 – George Copland, occupier of the council flat at the centre of the siege is arrested in the early hours at his girlfriend’s flat. After 12-13 hours in custody, he is released.
27 October 2013 – Suzanne Kelly updates Aberdeen Voice readers on what appears to unfinished business and an injustice which continues to affect an innocent citizen.
Mr Copland’s flat was all but destroyed as the police tore the property apart in the search for the weapon allegedly brandished in the empty flat. They came up with a feather duster, a broken remote control toy and a legal air gun, but nothing illegal.
Mr Copland alleges he was prevented from taking necessary medicine while in custody, and further alleges that the police told him the name of one of the so-called witnesses.
You may think that in the ensuing months he would have been compensated, as is expected when police searches are found to be wrong and cause an innocent party to suffer loss. You may also have thought that a police apology would be in order, since no-one can quite explain why he was arrested days after the siege took place.
You may also think that Aberdeen City Council, aware of a national news story centred on a flat they owned and managed, would have ensured that the occupant was looked after.
Apology and repairs?
Aberdeen Voice can confirm that there has been no compensation, no apology and not even a proper front door replacement to date.
There have been renewed calls by Aberdeen Voice for the police and the Council’s Housing and Environment section to explain the delays in righting the wrongs. The police have now been asked to release the arrest record and provide explanations as to how they managed the situation.
Questions for the police include:-
* Did they disclose the name of a witness to Copland?
* Why did they arrest him in the first place?
* If they suspected there was a weapon, why did they wait days before making an arrest?
* What is the background of the witnesses? Do they have any prior police records? What do their statements say? How could they have seen anyone in an empty flat?
* Knowing of Copland’s health issues, are they adding unnecessarily to the stress they have caused by holding back on compensation and an apology?
The Council has been asked to explain why it takes four months to replace what they must have known to be a battered–in door in a vulnerable person’s home. In response to requests made by politicians, they claim they only knew on 21 September that a door would need to be ordered.
Whilst it may be a security door that is required, it beggars belief that a council can have such an appalling procurement system. What if someone even more vulnerable than George Copland didn’t have a secure front door all this time?
Aberdeen Voice will bring you answers as soon as it gets further information, but getting anything released has proven difficult. Whilst we cannot dispute that the siege was carried out to protect the public, no-one is protecting Copland, who was entirely innocent. Could any of our institutions be trying to cover their tracks?
Benefit
There has been one bright spot. Glasgow musician Deek Allan of Oi Polloi heard about the situation, and held a benefit gig for Copland. The band, its friends and relatives sent approximately £370, which was greatly appreciated.
Copland’s situation
In the meantime George Copland, who already faces ongoing challenges with his health, is feeling helpless and defeated. He can’t face starting the massive clean-up that should be done on his flat, which arguably should be paid for by the police.
He is reluctant to go out; he feels his neighbours are assuming he must have done something wrong to have been treated this way without compensation or apology.
He told Voice:
“This is a nightmare. The whole thing has put me back [he has had some very troubling thoughts since the siege and the arrest]. I can’t face going out much. It’s too much”
Aberdeen Voice will redouble its efforts to get to the truth, and to get compensation. A follow-up will appear within a week. Thanks are due to the politicians who are trying to help behind the scenes, but this is a situation that needs immediate resolution.
It happened to be Copland who was unjustly accused, arrested and whose home and contents were violated. Who will it be next time if we don’t find out the whole truth and learn lessons now?
Old Susannah, aka Suzanne Kelly, gets to grips with her greens this week, with the never-ending Union Terrace Gardens saga, GM crops and various vegetables – including Eric Pickles – all vying for news coverage this past week.
Another vibrant and dynamic, connectivity-laden, smart, successful Scottish week passes in Aberdeen.
The weather is taking a turn for the cooler at night, and I’m starting to throw old unread copies of the Evening Express (is there any other kind?) onto the fire at night (living without central heating has its charms).
Alas, I’ve been down in London and missed many events here, including Thrashist Regime, who I’m told were so lively the staid Lemon Tree staff were freaking out at all the rule infractions the band committed.
London was wonderful, but the Londoners seem to think they can manage without one central square smack in the geographical centre of town. Somehow they carry on, in a city which is more like a series of different villages, each with its own ‘green/living/vibrant/dynamic’ heart, as our Evening Express reporters would put it.
Why, they haven’t even drawn up a map to show what is the Civic Zone or the Merchant Quarter, like we’ve done. London clearly needs a transformational project – if only one man with a horrific – sorry terrific vision would come along, put money on London’s table (well theoretical money anyway) and tell Boris Johnson what to build and where to build it, London would start to thrive.
Thankfully, we have Sir Ian Wood.
Looking at aerial maps of London, huge great green open spaces abound. Some call these parks/wildlife reserves/wetland centres/leisure spaces. Some people hold that these green spaces help give London a decent air quality, encourage wildlife, provide leisure space – even decrease stress levels and improve fitness.
Such spaces are, at least to the more sophisticated billionaire and ACSEF member, development opportunities. Oddly, London chooses to build in its disused brownfield rather than ‘transforming’ its green areas. Thankfully, we’re not falling for that stuff here. (I did hear a rumour that Hampstead Heath was going to be lowered to ground level for greater accessibility and connectivity. Watch this space).
Trafalgar Square remains a focal point, but it is far too small.
That will make London and Moscow take note.
At some 12,000 square metres for a population that’s around 8 million, it’s clear they are out of step with our Aberdonian city square project, otherwise known as the thing that wouldn’t die. Our much needed outdoor square will, if Sir Ian gets his way, be larger than Moscow’s Red Square.
Perhaps Aberdeen’s quangos, committees and elite have more in common with Moscow than London, come to think on it.
The City Square/Granite Web/Garden Project is proof that reincarnation is real; the thing just keeps coming back under new names, with increasingly beautiful, workable, desirable details. Our broken heart (aka Union Terrace Gardens) could have had a new beating heart (copyright Evening Express), dwarfing both Trafalgar and Red Squares, for our population which is around, er, a quarter of a million people.
That will make London and Moscow take note.
You have to hand it to Sir Ian Wood (or so he thinks); he is persistent. If half the goings-on I hear of were true for his retinue, finding time for any granite web project flogging would be nigh on impossible.
Aside from London’s museums, I saw the amazing Deborah Bonham and band at the Half Moon in Putney; I hope that someone is working on getting them an Aberdeen date…
Returning from London to the Deen, I eagerly bought the first P&J I could find, and started to catch up on the news; learning that former top cop Ian Paterson has just been found guilty of sexually harassing and assaulting several women over time. Looking back over old news stories, council records and so on, I find he was involved not only with the AVCO but also with groups working with young and vulnerable people. How wonderful.
Old Susannah remembers first moving to the Deen, and reading stories about old people being neglected, abused and mistreated in residential homes. There was even a home that had a broken lift for weeks – leaving people stranded and unable to get outside (I’ll bet it was a jolly adventure and fun for them, rather than a hardship).
Some might find his behaviour sleazy, contemptible, inexcusable, predatory and degrading
Naively I wanted to do my part, and I called my nearest residential home, asking how I could volunteer / help. ‘Oh, no, you have to get all kinds of clearance and be security checked’ was the response I got; I was definitely discouraged from taking it further. Fair enough – leave the volunteer work to the professionals, I thought.
All the while, some people were allowed access to vulnerable, young and old people because they were important – like Paterson.
Kindly, Patting Paterson would ‘comfort’ women – whether they wanted him to or not – by touching them where he had no business touching them. Sounds very comforting indeed. Then again, he only did this for a few years to a score of women. If those around him knew about this, they were quite right to leave it be, so he could continue ‘comforting’ others.
Some might find his behaviour sleazy, contemptible, inexcusable, predatory and degrading, but you can’t argue with a policeman, or indeed an ex-policeman, can you?
Old Susannah wonders now just who his friends/colleagues were (kerb crawling ex-councillors perhaps like Gordon Leslie?). Who knew what of his activities? What work was he presiding over as Chief Superintendent, or as chief executive of Aberdeen Council of Voluntary Organisations?
Could his actions and decision-making have been compromised at any time? Could he have been coerced or influenced by people who knew what he was doing? Was he around when the police were tasked by Audit Scotland to look into the dodgy property dealings uncovered in 2008?
Thankfully, we don’t need to bother with any such questions, because it’s all in the past. The police could find no wrong-doing on the former council’s part, for instance when we sold land for peanuts, ripping off the taxpayer, and keeping very shoddy records. Who knows what could be unravelled, but I’ll certainly not be pulling at that loose piece of yarn on the jumper, will I?
Time for some definitions (and a shot of BrewDog’s Watt Dickie) after thinking over this week’s news. Note to self – I must try some ‘Hello my name is Sonja’, a new addition to the ‘Hello’ BrewDog collection. And to Messrs Dickie & Watt, and all at the BrewDog Aberdeen Bar, a Happy Third Birthday.
Garden Salad: (modern English compound noun) – A dish comprising leafy and other vegetables, or a recipe for same.
Take one small, perfectly formed natural hollow, fill with trees, greens and flowers. Add greed, a pinch of desperation for immortality, and lashings of ego. Add in various vegetables (Tom Smith, Ian Wood, Stewart Milne, etc.) and toss. Add a few hundred inches of column spaces, revoltingly poor architectural grandiosity, and unintelligible drawings.
Garnish lavishly with hundreds of thousands of pounds of taxpayer money (for consultants, PR, etc.). Serve with a side helping of indigestible financial sauce. Add £50 million pounds; remove; add again; remove. This dish can be served again and again. And again. Keep serving until someone, somewhere swallows. Best eaten out of Sir Ian’s hands.
Yes, he’s at it again. We can’t keep our only city centre green space, despite having so much unused brownfield, because Wood wants it.
Barney Crockett has promised that if the garden is raised, it will not be for parking spaces – which are what was wanted by the ACSEF/Wood mob in the first place. If you have any opinions on this, please let your elected councillors know, lest they then turn around and say no one ever got in touch with them.
Let your council know how great a glass pyramid will be, or how ruining the back side of Belmont Street’s businesses which overlook the park will somehow add to connectivity. Tell your councillor how destroying our only natural wind break, getting rid of the few city centre trees we have will mean to your sense of transformation.
Pickles: (English noun) A sour, bitter, bloated vegetable, preserved in brine.
Eric Pickles. Where does one even start with this one man’s accomplishments? He’s been in the news again lately, and like me, I’m sure you relish reading about him. I love to ketchup with his doings, even if some people find Pickles unpalatable.
MP Pickles claimed expenses for a second home so he wouldn’t have to commute the massive 37 mile trek from his first home to Westminster. (I wonder if Pickles’ second home is close to the Gherkin?) This may have seemed a bit greedy to some, but for Eric to have to travel so far to get to work just wouldn’t have been right.
If he was tired in the House of Commons, he might not be able to cut the mustard. He also needed at least £300 in cleaning expenses, which he kindly repaid when asked to, at the height of the MPs expense scandal.
One of the reasons he’s rated so highly is his love of the countryside, as development opportunity anyway. As Secretary of State, he refused to call in controversial plans which saw a vast swathe of historic Dover and an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty turned into a housing development / complex.
Area residents found Pickles jarring.
If the refusal to listen to a public demand sounds familiar to anyone in the Balmedie area, another quote from this particular debacle may ring bells with Union Terrace Gardens watchers: defenders of the plan said “This is about building for the future; unlocking the economic potential of our heritage assets.” – the tone of which somehow seems familiar to me.
http://pickles_public_inquiry_into_controversial_development
You can’t help but wonder if Pickles and his supporters would find a spiritual home in city and shire.
teenagers at the Kendall House home in Gravesend were restrained with huge doses of tranquillisers
He was also instrumental in getting rid of greenbelt in Yorkshire, Liverpool and other formerly boring areas in favour of skyscrapers and parking lots- and a gas plant in Tewkesbury where the objections were virtually unanimous. We do need a man of his vision here.
But in his latest pickle, Eric told a woman with health issues, who had severe side effects to ‘increase her medication’ as he wisely disputed her story of residential care home forced drugging. His friend (yes, I didn’t know he had any either) told the BBC that Pickles “was giving her a frank piece of advice in private. It wasn’t meant in any way to offend or insult her”.
What a nice guy. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-24324556
The BBC story goes on to say “An investigation… claimed that teenagers at the Kendall House home in Gravesend were restrained with huge doses of tranquillisers and other drugs… 10 girls who were heavily sedated while living at the care home during the 1970s and 1980s went on to have children with a range of birth defects.” – Doesn’t sound like much of a big deal to me; perhaps upping her medication was just Eric’s fatherly, well-meant advice. With Pickles around, there is never a dill moment.
Golden Rice: (Modern English noun) A genetically modified, patented rice variety.
Are you one of those people who are unsure about GM foods – not certain that Monsanto should be able to splice genetic material from arctic fish into strawberries, own entire strains of food, seek a monopoly on existing seed businesses, charge farmers each season for food crops rather than farmers being able to store and use their own seed?
Are you unsure about environmental and health aspects of newly-nascent GM plants entering our food chain? Do you have ethical qualms about the third world being indebted to Monsanto forever for using GM food? Maybe you’re not convinced farmers should be sued for theft when GM pollen gets into their own crops (as happened in Canada)?
Then Minister Owen Paterson knows what you are: wicked.
Paterson said as much to the BBC; quite rightly too. The proliferation of GM food into our environment is nothing to fear at all, no more so than when the pesticide DDT came into wide use, and was hailed by the Patersons of the day. Of course, traces of the deadly stuff can now be found in EVERY living organism in the planet, but there you go; no harm done.
There may have been the occasional reason to harbour doubts about scientific advancements, but Science is always right, and technological advances are not made for profit, but for the betterment of the world in every instance. The odd nuclear accident, Thalidomide birth defects, tranquilisers with deadly side effects such as Halcyon – that sort of thing doesn’t happen anymore, well hardly ever.
Don’t question, don’t worry, don’t object – doing so is wicked. Where would we be without the guiding moral compass of Paterson and his ilk?
You wicked people should be ashamed; Paterson also says it is your fault people are starving in the third world, and golden rice will solve everything. That’s you told, then. And here I was thinking centuries of colonialism, civil war, disease, violence and draught were to blame.
Next week: A look at recent Trump news including his classy new roadside sign and 2012 accounts; a glance at Stewart Milne-related news, and more definitions.
Confidential to anyone who is feeling old: In passing, someone in their mid 50s told me they were old. First of all, I was Old Susannah way before anyone else decided to be old. Secondly, don’t be old if you don’t want to be old. One of the most youthful people I’ll ever meet was Les Paul (the guitarist and innovator).
I had the extreme pleasure of watching him play many times. There was nothing like it; the music he made; the passion for what he was doing all kept him at a mental age of perhaps 21. He’d joke; he always smiled; he had a twinkle in his eye, and he loved every moment. (And I wish I could see and hear him again). Did he have pains, aches, heartache, problems the same as the rest of us? Absolutely. He just chose to be young.
I hope to be as young as he was one of these days. Anyone who’s reading this at a computer/phone, in a warm building with food in their stomach is pretty lucky compared to most of the rest of the world, something too easily forgotten. If you have some kind of talent or gift, you have much more reason to lighten up.
Refuse to be jaded. Carpe Diem. Do something new. Go somewhere you’ve never been. Go on an adventure. Start something. I can promise you, you can stay young in heart and mind if you want to. As they say, ‘this is not a dress rehearsal’.
Voice’s Old Susannah takes a look over the past week’s events in the ‘Deen and beyond. By Suzanne Kelly.
Tally ho! Has the Deen ever seen a fairer summer? It’s not faded out just yet, and the parks are still full of people. Union Terrace Gardens were full of revellers for the Rainbow festival.
The mythical drunks and junkies said to loiter there are as much in evidence as the transparent giant boy who floated over the lurid flowerbed in the Granite Web drawings.
Hazlehead is filled with people, including motorists who don’t give a damn about parking on the grass, as well as thieves who’ve stolen a metal plaque.
More on this and other thefts shortly.
Gerry Jablonski & The Electric Band had a great night last Friday at the Lemon Tree; Techfest has rolled into town with a 20th anniversary birthday party and a programme of events that couldn’t be broader.
I hope to make it to the talk in Cruickshank botanical gardens on Friday. There was a talk about what to do if there is a zombie apocalypse; I missed this, but it couldn’t have been that much difference from some of the previous administration’s full council meetings.
Alas! I wasn’t quick enough to get one of the limited planetarium tickets, and because of other commitments I had to miss BrewDog’s ‘Science of Brewing’ talk which took place Tuesday.
I consoled myself considerably when I discovered two of BrewDog’s new offerings. A new light beer ‘How to Disappear Completely’ is filled with flavour yet low in alcohol content. Then there is ‘Misspent Youth.’ The bar staff told me it was rich, creamy and tasted of coffee and plums. They were right. I’ll be back for more of each soonest.
Alas! Everything that’s not nailed down, everything that is nailed down, and even the nails are being stolen in City and Shire. The epidemic of thefts all around us is alarming. If the police are recovering stolen goods, I hope they let us know about it, for the news at present is all about the thefts. Metal drain and gutter covers are going faster than cut-price cider.
Cars are being stolen at a rate exceeding sales of the new Grand Theft Auto V game. One car was stolen twice in the space of a few hours; you’ve got to give those thieves points for daring.
Your more ambitious thief is ripping their employer off, be it restaurant, the council or oil company. People in supermarkets are treating self check-out lines as optional. People are stealing pets in broad daylight. Your more intellectual thief is plagiarising poetry, and having the nerve to win poetry contests. Award-stealing poet Allen has had to return a prize; he was caught stealing other poets’ material. The BBC quotes Allen as saying :-
“I accept that I did plagiarise certain poems (although it was genuinely not my intention to deceive)”
It’s OK then – he was only stealing, not trying to fool us. Phew. Here’s a poem for him:-
Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue
I Think You’re A Tea-leaf
Och Aye Tha Noo. (copyright 2013 Old Susannah)
we all know what great places care homes are
Here in Torry, people have stolen not only drain covers but bricks – and a section of a stone wall. Worse, serial fantacist and idea appropriator Jeffrey Archer has a new book out to boot.
What’s going on? Why is it going unchecked? Who stole the pen I was just using a minute ago? Time for some timely theft-related definitions, as well as one timely definition for good measure.
Old Fashioned Policing: (old-fashioned English phrase) to keep the peace by intimidation and physical force.
Ah, the good old days. There was of course never any crime or social problem in the past, because in those halcyon days, police were not adverse to beating the daylights out of people, or scaring them out of their wits. Ah, the good old days eh?
I was surprised to read the tale of Ross-shire policemen Ovenstone and Kelman, who are in a bit of muck because of two teenage girls.
The policemen, both in their early 30s decided the girls needed a bit of old-fashioned policing for acting up at a care home.
http://www.north-star-news.co.uk/News/Ross-girls-threat-cops-sentenced-24092013.htm .
Now we all know what great places care homes are, and how every child that winds up in one is no good. Well, the kindly policemen decided to use some initiative. They handcuffed the teenagers, drove them to a remote farm, intimidated them, made them walk without shoes through manure.
Now, if you can remember back to your teenage years, think what it would have been like if two uniformed, weapon-carrying angry policemen handcuffed you and made you do things that were outside of the law. Yes, you would have been scared into becoming a model citizen. There was of course no chance that this harmless escapade would have caused any lasting psychological scars.
Kelman, was given credit in court for bravely saying ‘that’s enough’
Sadly, the courts have taken action against the police. Shocking, isn’t it. Of course there will be no custodial sentence, because that would serve no purpose. And here Old Susannah was, thinking that the deprivation caused by a jail term, and the message this sent out had some value.
No doubt this logic will be applied in the future to those with and without uniforms equally.
One of the braver cops, Kelman, was given credit in court for bravely saying ‘that’s enough’ at the end of the ordeal. I think he should get a medal. He didn’t stop anything; he was there, but he said ‘that’s enough’. Again, perhaps this logic will extend to those who are accessories to crime. For reasons unknown, Ovenstone decided to leave the police.
No, you just don’t get policing like that any more.
Theft – Pretexting: (Modern English phrase) – to gain entry to premises, to con, to deceive with the intent of stealing.
Hard up for cash? Need a little extra spending money? Why not do what Charles Skinner did, and trick your way into an 80 year-old woman’s house?
Pretend you’re there to do some work (as if you did any work), read an electricity meter, whatever. If your victim’s been dumb enough to let you in the front door, then they kind of deserve to be robbed, don’t they?
An Aberdeen pensioner is now having problems sleeping after Skint Skinner did just this to her, and once in her home stole money from her handbag.
Old people will have lots of money after all, and sometimes they forget they have it (like the hospital patients you hear of now and then that are ripped off by their ‘carers’. In fact there have been a few thefts recently in the ARI – gold chains, money, etc.; I’m sure this won’t be upsetting to patients and their families in the least.
thieves stole a commemmorative plaque from Hazelhead park
After all, you probably have a good use for the money – like your drug habit. What fun is an old person going to have with their cash anyway? If they wind up injured or emotionally upset, that’s not really your problem is it?
Besides, if you have had a tough childhood, a drug or alcohol problem, then it’s not your fault, and a decent lawyer will get you a reduced sentence, probably with the taxpayer paying.
Yes, pretexting your way into someone’s house can be a nice little earner.
Metal theft: (Modern English phrase) The theft of goods for their metal/mineral content and/or the stripping of metal from property.
Times are indeed tough; the value of metal is shooting through the roof (no doubt the roof’s lead has been stolen from the roof by now). Time to get some tools, a truck, and go nick some metal.
As mentioned, thieves stole a commemmorative plaque from Hazelhead park. Well, if the park is for everyone’s enjoyment, why not theirs?
Rail commutes will have notice no less than 4 recent disruptions on the Aberdeen to Inverness line: thieves have been stealing the cabling used in the signalling system. To lose copper cables to thieves once is unlucky. To lose your cables a second time is a bit careless. To have your copper stolen a third time begs the question ‘are you paying attention?’
Somewhere there are scrap metal dealers who are taking this material in
To lose cabling a fourth time implies incompetence. As to the thieves, well, the cabling is just there for the taking apparently. What’s the worst that could happen anyway? A potential train crash can’t outweigh the need to steal some copper wire.
Somewhere there are scrap metal dealers who are taking this material in. There must be a few clues when people go to sell plaques that are inscribed to the people of a city, or miles of copper wire. But none of these metal yards seem to be coming forward.
ATM Theft: (Modern English Phrase) to steal cash dispensers.
In the old days, the ones cops like Kelman and Ovenstone might have yearned for, a thief would just have waited for an unsuspecting person to use an ATM, and then either make note of their card number, and steal the card later – or just beat the cash withdrawer senseless once they had the money in their hand. These days are gone.
Need to supplement your metal theft income? Get a truck round to an ATM, and just steal the whole thing. In this line of work you get to travel as well – New Deer, Bieldside, Inverurie. Sounds pretty good to me.
Auto Theft: (English Phrase) the theft of a vehicle.
Well, the police do have this covered nicely in our area. Of course cars are stolen, driven in a stylish stuntman manner, and then often set alight, in one case cheering up some shoppers at a supermarket not long ago.
The police are blaming car owners for keeping car keys in their kitchens.
Car thieves taught admirers and young apprentices how to hotwire cars
Granted, you have to lock your homes and your cars these days. But even if you do this, if the keys are in your locked house somewhere they can be found, then it seems you’re pretty much guilty of being an accessory to any resultant theft.
We did have the exciting Stig Aberdeen Boys Facebook page not long ago; it had hundreds of members.
Car thieves taught admirers and young apprentices how to hotwire cars, how to steal motorbikes and so on. It’s a shame it was taken down, but Facebook decided promoting crime wasn’t something it wanted to branch out into. Shame.
There is No Honour Among Thieves: (English saying) A proverb advising that thieves are not to be trusted.
Well, it does my heart good to say there is always the exception that proves the rule. In a recent court appearance, a noble, brave robber (who had assaulted and threatened his victims and acted as part of a team) has refused to name his co-workers.
The man in question did tell the court he was very sorry indeed for upsetting people and taking their money, but ‘he is the only one going to jail’ for the spate of robberies he and his mates committed. I’d love to tell you his name, but someone seems to have stolen my notes.
For reasons of space, I’ll leave it there. There have been people embezzling from public and private sector employers; people stealing from charities, people stealing from the old and the infirm.
In Torry people have stolen bricks and even a bit of a stone wall. It just goes to show you, when you need to earn some money, there is always a way. (Did I ever tell you about the rich property developer who did a deal with the City over land in Kingswells, and then tried to keep £1.7 million pounds’ worth of profit)?
PS – pet theft is most definitely going on. Be vigilant.
Next week: more definitions.
By Suzanne Kelly.
Menie Estate resident David Milne started a petition to ask for a public inquiry into the past, present and future events and issues arising from Donald Trump’s takeover of the Estate to build ‘the world’s greatest golf course.’
As per previous coverage of the problems faced by residents and visitors to the estate, there are many questions that have remained unanswered as events have unfolded. The Scottish Government called in and approved Trump’s plans – a move which was without precedent.
The actions of the police, local and central government, and Scottish Enterprise as well as the SNH since golf course construction began have included the arrests of two journalists on the charge of ‘breaching the peace’, as shown in Anthony Baxter’s award-winning documentary, You’ve Been Trumped.
Environmental monitoring which was to be robust, was patchy at best, and now seems non-existent. Residents have been stopped by Trump private security. Surely the SNP government, keen to show the benefits of an independent Scotland, would want to honour the request of 19,000 petition signatories, and shed light on its actions if they were above board?
The petitions committee members have decided otherwise.
The brief statement now on their website reads:-
“3 September 2013: The Committee agreed to close the petition, under Rule 15.7, on the basis that all of the organisations that responded state that they have made, and continue to make, details of their involvement with the Menie Development public, and that there is little to demonstrate that another inquiry is necessary or justified.”
http://www.scottish.parliament.uk/GettingInvolved/Petitions/PE01474
Astonishingly, the method used by the committee when asked to consider investigating these five institutions was to ask them if they thought an investigation was needed. The outcome was inevitable, once the decision was made to rely on the word of the organisations to be investigated.
The committee’s statement refers to ‘another inquiry’. Whilst there was a report on the planning process in 2008, a great deal has happened since then. The statement refers to ‘another inquiry’ – there has not been any inquiry remotely like what was requested by the thousands who signed Milne’s petition.
David Milne’s letter to the Petitions Committee has been heavily redacted. Future articles will look at why Milne’s final statement was cut in this way.
What did he plan to say that the committee did not want the public to see?
Were any of the people on the committee likely to want to prevent an investigation into how Alex Salmond wined and dined Trump, and then intervened in the live planning application? Why did the police arrest two journalists on the say-so of Trump’s site manager, yet decline to even look at potential evidence caught on video of property damage and theft from the Milne property?
Reactions are still coming in from residents, campaigners and politicians; these will be aired in due course as well. But for the time being it is clear that the wish of the people to have a proper, public examination of what is now a cause celebre does not matter to central government.
A benefit concert has been arranged in aid of George ‘Dod’ Copland whose Aberdeen home was at the centre of a dramatic armed siege on June 7. With thanks to Ruaridh McAilein.
The concert featuring Oi Polloi, Billy Liar, The Bucky Skanks and T34 takes place at Audio, 14 Midland Street, Glasgow this Friday, Aug 23.
As reported in a previous Aberdeen Voice article, much of Mr Copland’s property was damaged or destroyed as police forced entry to search his unoccupied house following what was later reported to be a hoax call.
Mr Copland is still seeking an apology and compensation from the police.
Ruaridh McAilein, lead singer of popular punk band Oi Polloi told Aberdeen Voice.
“Dod has clearly been the victim of a significant injustice here. It’s extremely disturbing to think that something like this can happen in the first place but the fact that he has still not been compensated for either the damage to his property or to his reputation – not to mention the adverse effect that this must have had on his health – simply beggars belief.
“We’ve known Dod for the best part of thirty years now and can vouch for how willing he has always been to put himself out to help other people in need both through his community work and also in his personal life – and we also know how much pleasure he has brought to others over the years through his musical endeavours with Toxik Ephex – so the least we can do is to attempt in some small way to return the favour now that he finds himself in these straits after being treated in this quite frankly disgraceful way by the police.
“It’s a sad indictment on the state of affairs in Aberdeen that the authorities appear to have done very little to put right this clear wrong and that it is left up to other ordinary people like ourselves to help someone in this situation.
“On the positive side, when we first suggested the idea of a benefit concert for Dod it was greeted very enthusiastically indeed by the many people in Edinburgh and Glasgow who have come to know Dod through his musical performances with Toxik Ephex.
“He has a lot of friends all over Scotland, and there will be plenty of us coming together in Glasgow on Friday night to not only raise some much needed cash to help Dod repair some of the damage to his house but also to enjoy a night of excellent music and partying of the kind that Dod himself has so often provided for us over the years.
“We are hoping to not only collect a decent sum for Dod but also to show him that he’s not alone in facing what’s happened and that he is held in considerable affection by a lot of people throughout the country who have come to know him through his music.
“We also hope that further publicising what exactly happened to Dod will help keep the pressure on the authorities to apologise and properly compensate him.
“We’d encourage as many people as possible to come along for a night of great live music and to support the cause of a person who has spent so much of his own time over the years helping and entertaining others.”
Bands: Oi Polloi, Billy Liar, The Bucky Skanks, T34
Venue: Audio, 14 Midland Street, Glasgow
Friday Aug 23, 8pm
£6 on the door
A new freedom of information request reveal Police Scotland incurred costs of £8,000 when Donald Trump cancelled a visit to the Menie Estate. Aberdeen Voice’s Suzanne Kelly is seeking clarification of information police supplied, which she feels is self-contradictory.
Police are often shown in pictures of Trump arriving, travelling or staying at his estate.
The police also intervened in a land boundary dispute at the Forbes Farm, normally a civil matter.
Is Trump getting policing above and beyond what any other visitor would get? If so, what is the cost of this police protection?
On the one hand, the police have this to say about how they treat Trump, his family, and staff:-
“No extra police protection is provided to Mr Trump, his family or staff etc beyond that which would normally be afforded to any other member of the public.”
– letter from Mrs Jody McKenzie, Compliance Manager, Information Management Unit, Grampian Police to Suzanne Kelly, 2 July 13.
However, the same letter which makes this claim continues to say:-
“On one occasion, when Mr Trump had to cancel a planned trip to the area at short notice, an exercise was carried out to estimate what the cost to the force was. An estimate of the officer and staff time was £5200.”
This figure was later revised upwards:-
To explain their position, Mrs McKenzie wrote:-
“Although costs were calculated in regard to the cancelled trip, this was done at the time of the cancellation and involved a member of staff speaking to individual officers to find out what their shift changes were and what overtime or re-rostered rest days they were entitled to, in order to come up with an estimated figure.
“We also had to ask those involved in planning how long they spent on these tasks – such detail would not be routinely recorded and was provided based on the officer/member of staff’s recollection. Clearly this was easily done due to the fact that task was recent. If we were to approach officers and staff now to recall how long they spent on a piece of work 2 or three years ago, it is unlikely they would accurately recall.
“Furthermore, this would amount to the creation of new information and there is no obligation on authorities to create new information to answer a FOI request. Only recorded information held by an authority should be provided in response to a FOI request.”
I have asked for the police to conduct an internal investigation into how my request was handled. I believe payroll records and other captured data could easily be matched to Trump visit dates (or to cancelled Trump visit dates) and the information requested could then be supplied.
Updates will be made to this story when further information is available.