Aloysius Snood rang us.
"I wish to make a complaint."
"Yes Sir."
"Some young hooligans have been throwing stones at my house."
"We will send a constable to take a statement. If you could just give me your name and address."
"Aloysius Snood. 5 Tree Hollow, Scoresdale."
"Sorry, could you repeat your name."
He did so and then spelt it out.
"Thank you, sir."
I decided to accompany Constable Burgos for this call. I took a copy of the local newspaper with me.
He gave us the details of the attack on his house and scant information about the young hooligans responsible.
"You will remember the story in the paper that some paediatricians had been attacked because Sun readers thought they were 'Paedos'?" I asked.
"Yes of course, I'm not a paediatrician, Sergeant," said Mr Snood.
I showed him the local newspaper.
"The Pernicious Snood Strikes Again" was the headline.
"I am sorry to say that the Pernicious Snood is a newspaper title awarded to a criminal so far identified only by the fact that he always wears a black snood. If we can't identify the youngsters involved, Constable Burgos has a
suggestion about putting the message out."
This was news to Constable Burgos, so I continued, "He will be giving a talk to the local secondary school assemblies and explaining what a snood is and that it has no connection with anyone (we won't mention you) with that surname.. If that does not work we will consider other measures."
"The young hooligans will be punished?"
"As soon as we find them."
I left it on that note. The constable and I both knew it was unlikely that we could find them without a better description
The first reported crime by the Pernicious Snood seemed a minor one, It was a theft from an ironmongers shop. Various items were stolen including a carving knife.
It was when the carving knife was used to attack a pensioner late at night that things took a turn for the worse. The wound was serious and the pensioner, a Mr Davies, was rushed to hospital.
The only description he gave of his attacker was a man of medium height who was dressed in grey and wearing a black snood which effectively disguised his appearance while making him conspicuous.
That was when he earned his soubriquet from the press.
PC Clare Turner had interviewed the ironmonger, appropriately enough a Mr Smith
I read the transcript.
"It really is just not good enough. I have been burgled. We do not expect that kind of thing, you know, Missy."
I could detect Clare's hostility at being talked about in a demeaning fashion.
Her questions were very very polite.
"When did the burglary take place?"
"I don't know. I expect the police to detect crime you know."
"When did you notice the items missing?"
"This morning of course."
"Was the burglar alarm set off?"
"No I don't have a burglar alarm. The police are supposed to do that. We had bobbies on the beat in the old days."
A neighbouring shop had a working CCTV and that is where the Pernicious Snood was photographed. The snood very effectively prevented identification.
A fingertip search of the area found a cigarette packet, a train ticket and the fret from a violin. None of these were related to the crime.
‘This never happens to Sherlock,’ Colin Burgos complained.
Clare just shrugged.
The pensioner, Mr Davies, was interviewed by Constable Burgos when he was discharged from hospital. He added one thing to his story and it was rather unusual.
His assailant apparently said, "I'm gonna stab yer, mate."
Mr Davies would not be drawn on what kind of accent he had. He was at a loss to explain why someone who stabbed him called him 'mate'. However he stuck to his story despite its improbability.
Within twenty four hours there was another attack. This time the victim was a Mrs Black and she did not survive the trip in the ambulance. The paramedics reported her final remark to them which was "He called me darlin’'"
Constable Burgos has no ambitions to become a sergeant, although he wouldn't mind the salary. He likes things just the way they are and as a sergeant he would probably be moved from Scoresdale where he has made his home.
"Listen to this," is usually the way he brings the results of his reading to us.
This time it was a social media post.
"Pensioners are just a burden on the public purse and the health services.
If there were fewer of them, the country would save money. It is in their own best interests to cut down their numbers. Do not resuscitate any of them."
"Some politician?"
"No. I asked the boffins and they said the poor fool wasn't disguising his IP address and he had used the local library..." Constable Burgos responded.
He paused.
"The Scoresdale Library is currently closed for refurbishments or we might catch the blighter."
"Which blighter is that?" asked Clare.
"It is initialed TPS."
He added "The Pernicious Snood," in case we hadn't got the point.
So far, TPS had confined his attacks to Scoresdale. We guessed that he didn’t have a car.
There are twelve care homes in Scoresdale. It would be very hit and miss for us to cover all of them but PC Claire Turner came up with an idea.
She quite happily visited all the care homes and warned them to increase their security.
"For most of them that is increasing their security from nothing, locking a few doors for example."
"And, " she added, "he is more likely to target old people living alone like the previous two victims."
The Scoresdale Advertiser had a presumably rhetorical headline, "The Pernicious Snood. What Are The Police Doing"?
"Any suggestions welcome," was Colin Burgos's response.
"Neighbourhood Watch" has never had any takers in Scoresdale Village so without using the words "Neighbourhood Watch" we put out leaflets asking
neighbours to report any suspicious activity and to keep an eye on elderly neighbours. The local scouts distributed them for us.
The two victims, as Clare mentioned, were living alone and in streets about a mile and a half apart.
Constable Burgos painstakingly produced a map of the village with the locations of elderly residents marked in red.
Every time we looked at it we reflected on how many there were and calculated the odds of us being able to protect them.
In the end it was pure chance. TPS operated under cover of darkness and with the addition of the eponymous snood he was hard to see. The street lights in Scoresdale were notoriously bad. A Mr Parkin was driving home from a party and we would normally have said "without due care and
attention."
He said that he did not see TPS until it was far too late. Both of his legs were broken so making a run for it was not really an option.
Not only had he failed to disguise his IP address, he even went out on his murderous expeditions carrying his driving licence. He was a Mr Francis apparently.
Constable Burgos read his social media posts to him.
"Well, old people are a burden on society."
"And that justifies you attacking them with a knife?"
"It is for their own good. The government certainly don't want them and they ought to thank me for doing my bit to reduce the problem."
‘How old are you, Mr Francis?’
‘Sixty three.’
The End
I wrote this after the politicians decided on ‘assisted dying’. One reader suggested a certain politician as a shoe-in for the Pernicious Snood.
