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The Lion RampantThis story may contain adult content. |
| Written by mick beville | |
| Saturday, 28 June 2008 | |
THE CUL-DE-SAC
The new VW Dual cab Ute was impressive. Nine hundred a month for four years, it would want to impress?"
The drive into Mittagong was as much about reassuring my self that I'd spent wisely as it was for the Fish and Chips. It was the start of the ‘long weekend' and a snow bound yuppie driving a BMW had managed to steal the last parking spot outside the ‘Charcoal Chuck.' I drove past and did a U-turn at the top pub and managed to get a park facing north. The down side of this meant I would have to play chicken with the traffic, but first things first, a couple of long necks from the Lion Rampant.
The first part of the chicken game on the highway went fine and I skipped onto the flower bed in the middle of the highway. A quick change of pace and a one eighty turn of my head had me darting between the trucks and buses. "Who's next?" The young girl called out as I entered the ‘Charcoal chuck. "Two pieces of crumbed fish and one lot of chips" I replied sharply. I probably queue jumped a few people, but who cares, I was a local. I positioned myself in such a way as to see out through the glass door and across the highway to my new VW Ute. My thoughts had been monopolized by the VW ever since I picked it up a week ago.
Admiring its sleek European lines I felt reassuringly to my jacket pocket for the keys. ‘Try the trousers?' They weren't there either. My fish was almost ready. ‘Do I run across and get the keys, or do I wait?' Once again fate would make my decision: Climbing into my Ute was a kid that couldn't be more than seventeen; his baseball cap was on back to front and he had Westie written all over him.
"Hey that's my ******* Ute!" I shouted. Every face in the take away turned to look at the general spectacle. My adrenaline started to pump. I was heading out through the door with my mind exploding. -‘Get a good description of him... Call the police... Throw a brick at him.'- and all this time he was driving off in my new Ute. ‘No time to waste, I have to follow him.' I looked inside the first parked car I came to and there was a dog on the back seat. The next was locked. The last car was the BMW- ski's on the roof, windows down keys in the ignition, radio playing - see you later alligator - ‘what poetry.'
I turned the key hit the gas and red lined towards the lights I changed into second and did a U turn across the medium strip. As I passed the Charcoal Chuck, the traffic sign said sixty. I was doing eighty. Passing the golf club the sign said eighty. I was doing ninety. An oncoming car flashed me. **** I had no lights on. "Where are the lights....? A glance at the Speedo and I was doing one hundred and twenty in an eighty zone. ‘Slow down you stupid ****** before you kill someone.'
I knew he had about two minutes start on me and I was certain he was heading for the Freeway then maybe on to the Western suburbs. Surely he wouldn't risk speeding. Thirty minutes would see him on his home turf and a greater chance of losing me. My advantage was the fact that he didn't know I was giving chase. A steady one twenty passes most traffic and keeps the cops of your back. But maybe that's what he's thinking? "Think smart?" I told myself squeezing the pedal to one thirty.
The approach to the Freeway was only a blur. From the top of Catherine Hill I had about a two kilometre view of the road and I felt sure I could see the distant profile of my beloved VW.
‘Stick to one thirty-be cool- everything comes to he who waits' "Bullshit..." I screamed back at my self. "While were having this conversation" I asked. "What's your limit and how fast can this car go?" "To fast... be cool - think rationally. Any way what are you going to do if you catch him?" "What do you mean if. When I catch him, I'll tear his ******* head off." The Yuppie phone on the console started vibrating. I pick it up and asked. "Who is it?" "Bastard...Bastard..." Pressing every button I could find in an attempt to turn it off, I finally gave up and threw it behind the passenger seat.
Seconds later I heard a different ring. It can't be... It was my phone. "Who is it?" I ask. "It's me Anne. Where are you love?" "I'm on the Freeway. Someone's stolen the VW"
"You're breaking up- I can't hear you. Did you get my crumbed fish?"
Then nothing..........
Anne I have to point out is my wife of thirty four years.
The sign read, PICTON AND CAMDEN NEXT EXIT. This is the point where things could go pear shaped. He could have taken this exit but he looked a Westie through and through. My bet is Claymore, Green valley or Amber vale.
With confidence I passed the Picton Exit. "There he is... I can't believe it, he's only three hundred meters ahead of me and I'm gaining on him. Slow down - don't pass him - phone the police. What a brilliant idea! Triple Zero, what could be easier." I dialled the number and after three rings I heard a recorded female voice. "You have dialled emergency triple zero, your call is being connected" Two more rings and a woman answered. "Emergency, Police, Fire, or Ambulance, which service do you require?" "Police Please?"
"What state are you calling from?" "New South Wales" "What is the name of your nearest major town?" "Campbletown" "Connecting you now sir"
Three rings this times and a very soft male voice answered. "Campbletown Police station, Constable Christian speaking, how can I help you?" "Constable my names Mick Kelly and someone has stolen my ute" "When did you last see your vehicle sir?" "I'm looking at it as we speak" "I thought you said it was stolen" "I did. I'm following it" "Could I have the registration number of your vehicle sir?" "I'm going to have to get a closer before I can read the license plate" "That's ok sir can you give me the make and number of the vehicle your driving at the moment?" "Err..." "Are you still there Sir?" Am I still here? Just tell him the truth. "Yes officer I'm still hear"
"Could you please give me the make and number of the vehicle your driving?" "I don't know the number. I borrowed it. It's a dark blue BMW with skis on top. He's taking the off ramp... He's taking the off ramp..." "Calm down sir. Just give me the license plate?" "It's UGW 268 and were turning right over the Freeway and down past the University." "Sir I see you are familiar with the town. If you could remain calm and follow the vehicle at a safe distance. Stay on the phone and I'll link you up with the Highway patrol?"
Within seconds the silence was broken by a very macho voice. "This is Sergeant Dobbs of the Campbelltown Highway patrol. What is your speed and location?" ****! I didn't like the sound of him. There was no polite ‘Sir' or ‘Mr. Kelly' Just a blunt, "what is your speed and location?" He sounded like the type who would book his mother for parking. Realities check... I was driving straight into the hands of Sergeant Dobbs who would probably throw the book at me: Steeling a motor vehicle, speeding in a stolen motor vehicle and using a mobile phone while speeding in a stolen motor vehicle. I hung up.
‘Think straight... Ok, I have just given Constable Christian my name address and the rego number of the VW, which means he knows where I live.
"Dick-Head..!" I called my self out loud "Dick-Head..!" I said it again. What's the worst that could happen to me? Worst scenario...The thief pulls up outside a drug house. I follow him into the back yard and ask him politely to give me back the key's to the VW, at which point four of his mates give me a kicking and throw me to the Rottweilers. Just as that thought hit me, my phone rang again. "Mr. Kelly this is Sergeant Dodd's, are you there Mr. Kelly?" "Yes Sergeant. I'm sorry we got cut off." It was so reassuring to hear a policeman's voice again. "Sergeant I'm following the VW along Blaxland's Road towards the second set of lights and I think he's turning left." "That's fine Mr. Kelly just call out the street signs as you come to them." "We have just turned left Sergeant and I'm passing a concrete supply place and car repair joint. Are you still there Sergeant?" "Yes I'm here. Its sounds like you heading for Claymore or maybe Eagle vale. Just keep talking, you're doing fine." "Yes... Yes..." I said to loudly. I was right about the housing estates and I couldn't help feeling smug about it. God I hope I'm not right about the Rottweiler's. "Sergeant I'm heading under what looks like the Freeway and theirs a roundabout. He's turning right and I'm right behind him. The sign said Dobell Road.
"Are you there Sergeant?" Silence... "Are you there Sergeant?" Silence... "Sergeant if you can hear me? He's turning left into Norman Crescent" Silence... "Sergeant, answer me, please. He's indicating right and turning into a Cul-de-sac. The Cul-de-sac is full of cars and people and they seem to be arguing." "The Westies stopped behind a Volvo. He's getting out and trying to make a run for it, I'm going after him."
I was right behind him as he reached the Volvo. That good old adrenaline was pumping and I spun him around. I was as mad as hell. "What do you think you're playing at?" I screamed. But before he could answer the Highway patrol pulled right up behind us. Out jumped the Sergeant. "Christopher" said Sergeant Dobbs, with an amazed look on his face. "Dad" replied, the Westie with a relieved look on his face. The Sergeant just brushed me aside and I stood their completely confused. The old man inside the Volvo looked terrified. "Christopher" continued the sergeant, "I thought you were on your way to Christian College in Canberra". "I was, but while I was taking a rest stop in Mittagong, I saw that old man steeling my Volvo. I couldn't let him get away so I jumped in the first empty vehicle I could find and I followed him."
Sergeant Dobbs tapped on the Volvo driver's window. "Would you please step out of the vehicle sir? A very nervous elderly gentleman opened the door and struggled to his feet. "Sergeant" he said, his voice quivering. "Sergeant I know you may find this hard to believe but that blue Subaru Impressa WRX in front of us with the mag wheels is mine. It was a present from my wife for my eightieth birthday and that Priest, the one arguing with the woman, he stole it."
While sergeant Dobbs was radioing for assistance, my mobile phone rang. "Hello?" "Hello Mick. Where are you? It's me Anne." "Anne you're not going to believe what's happening. I'm in a Cul-de-sac in Claymore with a Policeman, a Priest and a dozen stolen cars, and one of theme's the VW." "Your right; I'm not going to believe it. I've just had a phone call from the Lion Rampant in Mittagong and your VW is parked outside with the lights left on and the keys still in the ignition.
The end
Copyright 2008 mick beville |
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| Last Updated ( Saturday, 28 June 2008 ) |
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