I had a few things nicked when living as an impoverished student in one of the rougher areas of Birmingham. Insurance asked for a crime number, local police said they would get round to it eventually - which they did after the riots in 85. A grizzled old copper turned up at my door with the crime number and the advice to have a look for my purloined hifi amplifier in the local pawn shops. That was it.
Biting the hand that feeds IT
