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How to avoid that speeding fine

A weekly column reproduced from the Bristol Evening Post

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The editor of this impressive organ invites me out to lunch. Not a posh venue. A curry house in one of the murkier parts of town.

Over an excellent Kitten Tikka Masala and a bottle of Blue Nun, he asks a serious question. How can he blag his way out of his fifth speeding ticket?

How? Easy. In fact, I’m never going to pay a speed camera fine again. If the police themselves are getting away with murder by playing the system, why shouldn’t the rest of us?

Detective Superintendent Adrian Roberts is the head of CID in Middlesbrough. He escaped a fine and three points by claiming that he couldn’t remember who was driving his car when it was flashed by a speed camera. Couldn’t remember? What kind of a detective is he? Hasn’t he got a diary? Or a memory?

And what about his colleagues? Couldn’t they check who else is insured to drive his car and then interview and take statements from them? It’s pathetic. Who needs to be a Freemason when you can be a copper?

The truth of the matter is that DS Roberts is taking advantage of inside knowledge to avoid justice. So why should anyone else submit to the system?

What about reps or delivery drivers who rely on their licenses for their jobs? What about people who live out of range of what passes for public transport in these parts?

Why should so-called ordinary people own up and risk a ban when senior cops are clearly taking the mickey? The whole thing stinks. And don’t even get me started on Jack Straw or John Prescott.

Mrs Beelzebub copped the three points the last time my car was clocked speeding. Which was nice of her as she was 160 miles away and asleep in bed at the time. I’m not even going to bother with that minor deceit next time around.

No, I’ll just say that I can’t remember who was driving. Let them chase that one up. And if it doesn’t work, I’ll suddenly remember that it was my fictitious cousin from Australia who was behind the wheel. Try writing to him at Number 4, Warne Close, Alice Springs. I’ll sure he’ll reply with a cheque.

And if that doesn’t work, I’ll pay an impoverished student to take the points. A packet of Rizla and a donner kebab should do it.

There’s more…