Episode 6 Bizarre Crime

Britain's bobbies see some bizarre things in the line of duty.

I think they'll think twice about stealing an owl in future.

And for this series, with the help of victims, cops and crooks,

we've unearthed the UK's most audacious...

-Go faster!

-..deviant...

The guy's completely naked in the chimney.

..and downright daft acts of criminality.

Stealing from a CCTV shop, it's not ironic, it's moronic.

These odd offences all prove one thing -

crime doesn't pay

and the police won't rest until they get their man.

We had him banged to rights.

So observe your right to remain silent as we sentence you

to 30 minutes of guilty pleasure in the weird world of Bizarre Crime.

Coming up...

one student turns DIY detective

to nab the crook who nabbed his phone.

It did feel maybe that's what it could be liked to be a secret agent.

The mysterious and mind-boggling plot behind the theft

of a rare piece of British wartime history.

The moment that I opened it to about there,

it was clear that this was an Enigma machine.

But for our first story we're heading to Bristol

for a spot of weird late-night looting

resulting in one foolish felon being banged up for the night.

But not quite in the way you'd expect.

The image of the bin with just these two feet just hanging...

..it'll always stay in my head.

If you're thinking of trying any monkey business

at Willow Brook Retail Park near Bristol, you won't get very far.

The security team

and the security coverage with the cameras is phenomenal

and it's rare that anything actually happens around this centre

that we don't know about.

Spotting shoplifters and keeping the centre safe

is all in a day's work for the security team.

But in April 2011 the cameras picked up a bizarre criminal caper

that no-one saw coming.

At 12:10 we noticed that things weren't as they should have been.

Yeah, control to Matt, are you receiving?

'Yeah, receiving. Go ahead.'

To Gareth's amazement CCTV captured someone making a deposit

into a Red Cross charity recycling bin.

Yeah, mate, I've noticed on camera, buddy, it's a bit of a strange one.

But it wasn't a stash of clothes to help the needy,

it was a partner in crime to help the greedy.

So I checked the camera twice, you know, because

you want to make sure what you're seeing is right

because the size of that gap is so small you can't even comprehend

somebody getting in the bin.

With the help of his mate the nimble crim

had somehow squeezed himself through a gap

little bigger than your average cat flap.

You're talking a gap that kind of size.

Once inside the bin bandits worked in tandem.

The fella within passed clothes out

while his accomplice on the outside grabbed the garments

and carefully folded them into a neat little pile.

No matter how comical the situation is

it's something we take very seriously.

Can you approach as soon as, please?

'Yeah, I'm nearly there now, control."

As the thief outside spotted security,

clearly wracked with concern for his bin bound buddy,

he did what any loyal friend would do -

he scarpered.

Just left him in the lurch, well and truly.

Didn't worry about anything other than himself, to be perfectly frank.

His mate was stranded and on his own,

but things had gone strangely quiet in the bin.

-What's actually going on, mate?

-'I can just hear rummaging from inside the bin.'

We got no response from the gentleman whatsoever.

You know, at that point we're sort of thinking, you know,

is he all right, you know, is he in there?

Unsure whether they were dealing with a bin burglar or a new David Blaine

the security team decided not to take any chances.

Yeah, could I request police, please?

Theft from one of the charity bins.

We actually have one of them still in the bin.

As emergency services arrived at the scene

the bin was still reserving his right to remain silent.

The police were

trying to make contact with the person in the bin,

shouting into the bin and tapping on the bin.

They actually had like a big sort of rod.

They were actually prodding inside the bin

to try and gain a reaction from him

and he kept completely quiet.

So that put a little bit of doubt in our mind

as to whether anyone was actually in there or not.

There was this discussion,

are we telling the truth, is this actually going on?

We go back to the security guard and he was adamant there was still somebody in the bin.

Exactly what was the silent squatter doing in there?

Enjoying a good book?

Tucking into a little light supper?

Updating his Twitter feed?

He may well have been injured,

we just would not have known.

They had to get him out.

Concerned for the garment grabber's safety,

firefighters decided it was time to empty the bin.

We ended up using some hacksaws just to cut through the bolts

and brute strength to bend the panel back at the end.

Attacking it like a giant tin can,

firefighters pulled out a panel on top of the bin

creating enough room for a brave bobby to climb inside.

You know, it's hard not to laugh in these sort of situations,

when you've got socks flying everywhere.

And after a few odd socks and discarded frocks,

the next thing the police pulled out was the criminal contortionist.

This little man

on the end of a policeman's arm, you know, it was sort of, it is funny.

I didn't even believe that anyone was in the bin until we actually saw the police

coming out with this guy that had been hiding away

cos he didn't actually say anything, he didn't speak to the police.

He was just stood there...

..under arrest.

Your first impression is, "God, they've got to be really desperate",

and then when you actually look at it in detail

it's not being desperate, it's more trying to make money relatively quickly.

The flexible felon's plan was pretty simple.

Grab unwanted wardrobe items for nothing

and sell them on for a tidy profit.

But their gain would, of course, have been the charity's loss.

We're talking about £400,000 that have been raised from these bins just in the South West alone

since 2007

and that's obviously hugely vital to us,

so anything that impacts on that will have an affect on our work.

The thief was arrested and interviewed by Avon and Somerset Police

but perhaps taking into account time already served in the bin,

they decided to release him with a caution.

I don't think any of us will ever know how he did it, to be fair,

it was definitely something I'll never forget

and one of the most bizarre instances I'm ever likely to see in this job.

In Bizarre Crime we're treating you

to some of the most calamitous, criminal acts caught on camera.

And first up is possibly the world's worse bank robber

who's as short sighted as he is shifty.

As he hands over his demand note, he's blissfully unaware

that right behind him is a security guard watching his every move.

As the guard steps in to intervene

it becomes apparent this pair are Strictly fans.

Although it looks like they're a long way off

perfecting their Paso Doble.

After a quick burst of the robber's rumba

the eagle-eyed crook makes a dash for it

closely followed by his dancing partner.

We'd give them...

seven!

Alongside CCTV, police deploy a range of tactics

in their fight against crime

including, of course, the trusted photofit.

But even police artists have their off days

and this week's criminal countdown

presents some of the world's egregious E-fits.

And we promise you that while these might look unbelievably bad,

they're all genuine images released by real police forces.

First up is the wonderfully detailed portrait

of a robber wanted by Gwent Police in 2008.

The attention that has been lavished on rendering such a lifelike cap

is admirable -

it's just a shame more time and effort

wasn't expended on eyes, nose, hair - a face, basically.

Why the long face, you might ask this fella?

Well, if you looked like this in real life,

you'd probably feel a bit glum.

This, by all accounts,

is the likeness of a bank raider wanted by Dyffed, Powys Police,

whose artist must have run their marker pen dry

colouring in that dense helmet of hair that even Brian May might envy.

But he's not the oddest-looking looter around

if this E-fit issued by Norfolk Police in 2006 is anything to go by.

The features that look like they've been popped on

in Mr Potato Head fashion are disturbing enough.

But the most mind boggling-final flourishes

must be the missing bit of ear and the stick on Hitler moustache.

But at least he's got a nice head of tousled, natural-looking hair,

not like this burglar Hampshire Police were hunting

who looks like he's used lettuce as a disguise

during a robbery in 2010.

# It's not that easy being green. #

Weirder still is the bank robber in this E-fit

put out by Thai Police in 2008

who appears to have a very big bulbous head,

large black ears and a silvery face

seemingly lacking distinct features,

or maybe he's wearing a helmet.

We suspect the reward offered

for information on this suspect may go uncollected.

But undoubtedly the world's worst wanted poster

was released by Bolivian Police in 2009.

Drawn by a witness it depicted a suspect who lacked ears,

sported a wonky mouth and who was, without question,

having a very, very bad hair day.

But the cops had the last laugh

as they actually managed to catch this crook

although it's not clear just how big a part this image had to play

in the criminal's eventual arrest.

For our next case we're heading to Manchester

where one have-a-go hero

deployed odd and ingenious methods to turn DIY spy

as part of a plan to foil a phone-swiping felon.

It did feel exciting,

maybe that's what it could be liked to be a secret agent.

Most of Manchester's 85,000 students are rarely without their trusted phone

and James Bird and Nick Crisp are no exception.

But in March 2011, James faced that gut-wrenching prospect

of having to put life on hold when his mobile was swiped

after the two friends spotted a shifty character in the university computer room.

He didn't look like a student or look like a lecturer -

a bit rough round the edges.

I turned around and I was talking to Nick

and I when I turned back round the phone had gone off the desk.

Leaping to his feet James confronted the suspicious-looking guy

he thought had nabbed his mobile.

He was wearing so many layers of clothes,

he turned out probably about six pockets to me,

and was like, "No, I've not got it,"

I thought, have I made a mistake?

But there was no mistake. James' phone had gone.

My stomach just sank,

it was sort of like - what am I going to do?

How am I going to get it back?

While most of us might have chalked the theft up to experience

and made the call to put a stop on the phone,

James wasn't going to take this lying down.

The first thing that popped into my head was sign on and look at the GPS.

James' smartphone was smarter than most.

Equipped with GPS technology the phone could be tracked by US military satellites

and via a nifty app, accurately located on a map.

James and Nick decided to use this app

as part of an unusual but inspired plan

and Operation Angry Bird was launched.

As the thief strolled off

unaware that his every move was tracked,

the two friends moved fast

logging on to an account linked to James' phone.

It was quite clear the dot on the middle of the screen was moving

and moving away from the building we were in.

Nick's job would be Mission Control,

tracking the target across Manchester,

while James would hit the streets and, guided by Nick,

catch up with the crook. But the hunt got off to a shaky start.

Whereabouts is he now?

'I couldn't see him at all - I'd obviously gone the wrong way.'

With time of the essence and the thief out of sight,

it was down to Nick to get James back on track.

As soon as I got my bearings, I could tell

how close he was getting to where the phone was.

Then, all of a sudden, the thief stopped.

I was saying, "It's stopped, it's stopped.

"Just get there as soon as you can".

As James turned the corner, his target finally came into sight,

casually boarding a bus.

Jumping on after him, James came face to face with the crafty crim.

As they eyed each other up,

James realised that a showdown with the thief

might not have been such a good idea.

You're quite fired up that you managed to catch up with him

and you know that your phone's on him somewhere

but he could have been carrying a knife,

Thankfully, the pair didn't come to blows on the bus

and after a colourful exchange, the thief handed James his phone back.

It was quite surreal, really, he just handed me the phone back,

casually walked off down the street.

But this wasn't the thief's lucky day.

As he jumped back off the bus,

James noticed a police van directly behind him and immediately set the cops on the crook's case.

I got out of the van and followed the offender down the street.

He just turned onto a side street

and tried to hide behind a metal container that was in the street.

The thief was placed under arrest, while James got on with sharing his story with the world -

how else, but on his beloved phone?

I tweeted from the police car on the way to give a statement -

"Had my phone stolen, but got it back straightaway."

At the station, police discovered the phone snatcher

was wanted for a range of other thefts.

At Manchester Magistrate's Court, he was found guilty of four counts of burglary,

as well as the theft of James' phone,

resulting in a ten-month prison sentence, suspended for two years.

James, Nick and operation Angry Bird

had collared not just a phone thief but a serial robber.

Because of James' quick thinking and the work he has done to get his own phone back,

he's been rewarded with the Chief Constables' commendation.

Usually, it's to recognise outstanding achievement, really -

it's not something that's given out every day

and it is a very good achievement for James.

Here's wishing brave James a university career

as successful as his crime fighting.

Time now for more criminal moments caught on camera,

and here's one witless robber about to make a real splash.

As he makes his gazelle-like getaway,

he's failed to spot the lily pond on the other side of the pot plants.

# Run away you'd better not hesitate

# Better hurry, don't wait now

# Run away... #

But at least he's not the last to leave the scene -

that'd be THIS calm, collected crim -

no danger HE'LL be taking a dip.

But it's not always crooks who end up leaving the scene

in an unusual or unexpected way.

Here's a traffic cop in the States having a bad day.

As he goes over to ask the driver to step out of the vehicle,

rather than put two feet on the ground,

he puts one foot on the pedal.

Fortunately, the fleet-footed officer got off with only minor injuries,

while the crims didn't get away with a thing.

For Bizarre Crime, we've turned the spotlight on the cops,

asking serving and retired officers from across the country to recount

the funniest and freakiest things they've encountered.

What you're about to hear might sound far-fetched,

but it's the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

THEY COUGH

Welcome to Bizarre Crime's Police Confessional.

Exhibit K - waste disposal.

We went to arrest somebody for burglary, and when we did this,

the unfortunate guy decided that his escape

was via the communal waste chute.

What he didn't realise was that he was on the fourth floor,

and eventually we picked him up with a broken leg

and up to the eyes in rubbish.

Clearly, he didn't realise that the communal chute goes all the way down to the bottom floor.

Our final story is a truly baffling,

ultimately unsolved case that involves an English country estate,

a Nazi encoder, a strange and shadowy blackmail plot and this man.

Good evening.

Confused?

You soon will be.

This is Bletchley Park in Buckinghamshire,

once the top-secret base for Britain's World War II code-cracking boffins.

Today, it's a museum, and its most prized exhibit is the Enigma machine.

Captured from German forces during the war,

it was used to decipher the Nazi's otherwise unbreakable secret code.

It's one of only three in the world so you can imagine the horror the museum's former director felt

when she got a call in April 2000, telling her

the Enigma machine had disappeared.

It's probably one of the worst things that could ever have happened

to Bletchley Park,

losing a really, really important piece of national history.

I was shocked to the core.

Bletchley Park had hundreds of visitors the day the machine vanished,

so the police had their work cut out for them.

There were no particular suspects,

there were no positive leads for the enquiry

from members of the public, at all.

In the face of a national outcry, the police pulled out all the stops,

yet despite their best efforts, the trail soon went cold

and there was a genuine fear the precious museum piece could have been lost forever.

But five months later, Christine got a very odd letter.

It struck me as very bizarre.

It had quite a warped element to it.

It was typed on something that looked like a very old machine.

One sentence reads,

"I've been asked by the current owner,

"the above Enigma machine,

"who purchased it in good faith,"

"in good faith being the operative word,

"to say and tell you now today

"the unwitting person having no ultimate desire

"of depraving your august self or anyone the pleasure to see it again."

To be honest, it struck me as slightly unhinged, is the way that I would describe it.

Over the coming weeks, Christine received more letters

claiming that the Enigma machine had been bought by someone

who didn't know it was stolen.

They'd return it, they said,

but to ensure they weren't out of pocket, they demanded £25,000,

or else the museum's prized possession would be destroyed.

That is still blackmail, that is still extortion,

and we had a responsibility to recover the machine

without paying out that particular money.

But who was the shadowy figure sat behind the typewriter?

The answer is - this man - Dennis Yates.

It should have really been a simple matter of paying £25,000

and getting the machine back, which is what I hoped it would be.

Dennis might have been writing and sending letters,

but to this day, he claims that he did not steal the Enigma machine

and wasn't holding it to ransom to get cash for himself -

he maintains the stolen machine came to him from a mystery man he calls...

..The Master.

Dennis claims The Master was pulling all the strings,

using him as an intermediary between him and Bletchley Park,

and the next surreal step in The Master's plan was to keep the case in the public eye

by getting Dennis to send the machine to a high profile figure.

Good evening.

Yes - Dennis had randomly posted the Enigma machine to Jeremy Paxman.

It arrived in a box here at Newsnight,

actually at the end of, erm, last week,

and has been knocking around the office.

It was only when a colleague came over this afternoon

and said, "There's a whacking great box over there for you",

that I went over to open it -

the moment I opened it to about there,

it was clear that this was an Enigma machine.

But if police thought the case was closed,

they were in for a nasty surprise.

When Jeremy Paxman received the case for the Enigma,

it wasn't the complete package

because the most valuable element,

the rotor arms, were missing,

and it was another twist,

another quirk in what was becoming an increasingly bizarre investigation.

Dennis had removed crucial code-cracking rotors

so he could continue to demand the 25 grand, but at this point,

the police were no closer to knowing the identity of the bizarre blackmailer,

and with Bletchley Park still refusing to pay the ransom and Paxo back to his day job...

-Good evening.

-..the surreal investigation reached another stalemate.

But Dennis wasn't a man to be defeated.

He hatched a new plan to keep the story alive

by getting in touch with Sunday Times journalist Nick Fielding.

He tried working directly with the police,

and, erm, with Bletchley Park authorities

and it hadn't worked for whatever reason,

so he was looking for somebody to be an intermediary.

Perhaps inspired by the Enigma machine's history,

Dennis decided that all communication between him and Nick

would be via coded messages in the Times' personal column.

It was the only way that I could contact them

without direct telephone contact or speaking to anybody personally.

Yates wanted us to arrange a drop-off of a large amount of money - £25,000 -

to take it to a cemetery in Derbyshire

and to leave it on the grave of a woman called Alice Fletcher.

What Dennis didn't know

was that Nick was working with the police, who seized the opportunity to set up a sting operation.

Following Dennis' instructions,

they placed a package in the cemetery

before putting it under surveillance.

Cops spent three days hiding out, waiting for someone to show up.

By sheer bad luck on the final day just three hours after they'd left,

Dennis arrived. But as police had removed the package,

Dennis assumed the drop-off hadn't happened and toddled home.

Dennis had narrowly slipped through their fingers,

but a few days later, police got a second chance.

Eager beaver Dennis abandoned the personals and phoned Nick direct.

He was a bit flustered. What I said to him was,

"I don't have much to say to you at this moment,

"but can you call me back in two days' time?" He said that he would,

and we arranged a time that he would call me.

The cops had traced Dennis' call to a phone box in Derbyshire,

and two days later they were ready and waiting,

hoping he'd make the schoolboy error of using the same phone to call Nick back.

Sure enough, Dennis finally slipped up.

I began talking to him and again he was quite flustered -

suddenly, to my left, I heard the police officer shout

quite loudly into his mobile phone...

Strike, strike, strike!

And in the other ear, where I was listening to the phone, I heard...

You're nicked.

Frightening...

there must have been a dozen special branch officers,

and they asked me what I was doing, and I said I'm trying to

negotiate the return of the Enigma to Bletchley Park.

I made no secret about what I was doing,

cos it was obvious that I couldn't deny it.

At last the police had their man, or so they thought.

Dennis denied actually stealing the Enigma machine

and stuck to his story that he was acting on behalf of the mysterious Master.

He was only ever found guilty of handling stolen goods

and sentenced to ten months in prison.

No doubt Dennis now rues the day he ever set eyes on the Enigma machine.

I should have said, you know, "I'm not interested,

"it's nothing to do with me".

If I'd have thought it was ever going to turn out the way that it did,

I would never have got involved.

The missing rotors were recovered

and the national treasure safely returned to Bletchley Park,

where it's now protected by sophisticated infrared security systems.

But while the machine might be safe,

the enigma surrounding its disappearance refuses to go away.

The case in itself is an enigma,

and I happen to know that some police officers have decided

that as long as they live, they're never ever going to give up

until they find the man who stole the Enigma Machine.

Next time on Bizarre Crime...

a bizarre criminal obsession terrorises a seaside town...

It was an extremely weird thing to do,

to go out and basically bring the whole of Bournemouth to a standstill.

..and possibly the world's stupidest crime is caught on camera.

How stupid can one be?

There's cameras absolutely everywhere - idiots!

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