A Detective story:Working at Woolies on Lister Gate

There was this huge Woolworths store on Lister gate in Nottingham, two floors, maybe three if I remember right, although the top floor was for staff.

I worked there one summer, back in the seventies.  I was a student, up a Ruskin college in Oxford.   The grants were pretty decent then but I still needed to work in the summer to make ends meet, had a wife and two children so there was no backpacking holidays in the sun for the likes of those mature students like me, trying, a bit late in life, to improve their lot.

Got a job as a store detective.  I was not a very good store detective and I reckon word got out in the city for every shoplifter in town came down to have a go.   It was not that I could not spot them, that’s quite easy when you know what to look for, if there’s someone on the floor watching then they’ll catch you.   It’s when there is no one there that the big stuff goes out the door.   My problem was that my heart was not really in the job.  Done a bit of shoplifting myself in my time, too much empathy with the lifters.

It was kids mostly, nicking mars bars and what have you, helping themselves to the help yourself sweet counter and the help yourself biscuits.   I would just tell them to go on their way, no point in doing anything serious about it.   Loads of students lifted on a regular basis and Nottingham had a lot of students, lifting makeup and underwear, blouses and skirts, shirts, and underpants. And mars bars, regular raiders of the help yourself sweet counter were Nottingham students.

I did catch a guy, he may have been a student, mid-twenties, scruffy as hell, lifting tools, always a favourite to add to your lifting basket.  Watched him take a couple of hammers, set of chisels, pack of screwdrivers, several packets of screws and nails, a set square, on and on he went.   I Tapped on the shoulder and asked to come with me to the interview room where he unloaded all the tools from his bag.

“Why are you nicking this lot”  I asked.

He said he was building a boat.

“Don’t you need a saw to build a boat”

“I would ‘ad ‘ave ad one if yer ‘addnt caught me” he says.

“Well come on then” I said, “lets get you a saw”   And we went out to the tool department and he chose a nice Stanly saw and I sent him on his way.

He was very grateful.

I said  “Yer can name yer boat after me”

I don’t know if he ever did build a boat or if he did what he called it.  But if you see a boat on the Trent called John, don’t let the guy who owns it near you’re toolbox.

And one day I spotted a pair of real pros.  Young couple towing those big shopping bags on wheels that old ladies use.   One was keeping watch while the other loaded up the bags.   They would not have suspected me I was the scruffiest store detective you would ever have seen.   I watched the bloke load pairs of men’s jeans into his trolly bag, by the dozen, 28 pairs to be accurate, as I later found out.

I spotted the manager and signalled to him to go and stand by the exit door.  Mr. Pepper.   Then I followed the couple out onto Lister gate and tapped the bloke on the shoulder, asked him to return to the store as I believed he had goods in the bag that had not been paid for.

He took a swing at me, missed, I was quite nimble in them days, just out of the army.  And he runs off, at high speed, belting  up through  Lister gate, abandoning the bag, me in hot pursuit.

Left onto the hill, racing up Castlegate running hard  towards the Royal Children.  I was gaining on him.   He darts into a factory about halfway up Castlegate, a textile factory, rows and rows of noisy machines, women workers.   We ran up the rows, in and out of the lines of machines, horrified machine workers rushing to get out the way.   He ran back to the doorway, there were these crates of milk there, don’t ask me why, there just was, and he takes out a bottle of milk smashes it against the wall and turns on me with the broken bottle.

We were both panting hard and he is yelling at me to “back off yer fucker”

Well I would not back off and I moved towards him.  He dropped the bottle and was off again running up Castlegate   He veered right onto Spaniel row, running past the Salutation turning right again onto Friar Lane racing down towards Slab Square.  I was close now and he realised I was fitter than him and was not giving up, he ran hard and fast into the square.   There were two constables walking their beat, Tug Wilson and a probationary woman P.C. they saw the chase and just stopped him.   No fuss, no struggle, he was quite exhausted ad there was nowt left in him.  Same for me really. Knackered.

We all goes off to the Central police station on North Church street and he’s arrested and I make my statement about it.

I told the copper we had his mate, Mr. Pepper had her down at the shop, and we had the bag of jeans.   So this police woman comes back to the shop with me to arrest her and tells me to hang onto the bag of jeans until the court case comes up when I should bring it along as evidence.

The court case came on pretty quick, October if I remember right.   I had to attend the magistrates court at the Guildhall on Burton street, complete with the trolly bag of 28 pairs of blue jeans.   I was hanging around in the lobby with me bag of jeans waiting to be called when this solicitor comes over and tells me he’s pleaded, and I was not required.  Apparently, he was wanted for major shoplifting raids in Sheffield, Mansfield, and Derby.

So, there I was with a trolly bag of 28 pairs of men’s blue jeans.   No one seemed interested in them.  For the cops it was all over.   Mr. Pepper from Woolworths had moved on somewhere else and I didn’t know anyone down at Woollies anymore.  So, I took them up to Ruskin and most of the first year got a free pair of blue jeans courtesy of Woolworths!