Letter Of Complaint To
The Metropolitan Police

To The Commission Of Police,                    93c Venner Road,
New Scotland Yard,                                     Sydenham,
London SW1.                                     London SE26 5HU.
                                                   020 8659 7713

October 5, 2001

Dear Sir,

I am writing, not for the first time unfortunately, to complain 
about the behaviour of one of your officers, and not for the 
first time about this particular officer, sadly.

I wish to make it clear at the outset that I do not want any 
disciplinary action take in this case, my primary concern is to 
put this incident on record. You may also wish to arrange for him 
to have further training in view of his apparent ignorance of 
PACE, and of the strange way he interacts with the public.

On the morning of Tuesday, September 25 I was on a Northern Line 
train en route to Colindale; I boarded the train at Warren Street 
where the passenger sitting next to me was reading the "Daily Mail" 
newspaper. He got up at the next station and left the paper on 
the same seat, so I picked it up as people do. I already had two 
newspapers with me, the "Times", which I had bought, and the free 
transport paper "Metro", which I had picked up on the way in. I 
found nothing of interest in these papers but there were two 
articles of interest in the "Daily Mail", and as the train left 
Hendon Central I tore out the two cuttings and left both the "Mail" 
and the two other newspapers on the seat next to me. Save for the 
two half pages I'd removed these were three intact newspapers, 
which another passenger would doubtless have picked up to while 
away the time, as people do, and as I have seen countless times 
on commuter trains.

I wasn't aware at this point of the bearded man sitting opposite 
me although he was obviously very aware of me. I got up to leave 
the train as it approached Colindale, and so did he. More than 
that he came up to me and asked me if I were not going to take my 
“rubbish” with me, pointing to the pile of papers.

I looked back at them rather surprised and told him he could have 
them if he wanted. He looked back, not at the newspapers, but at 
the two young girls who had been sitting near us, and it was 
obvious to me that he was trying to impress them when he said 
rather more loudly than necessary that if I didn't pick them up 
and take them with me he would arrest me, taking out his warrant 
card as he did so.

I assumed the card was genuine although it didn't appear to have 
a photograph with it. I am not someone who suffers either fools 
or bullies gladly, so I replied rather more loudly than I needed 
"You can't". He was rather taken aback, obviously not expecting 
this reaction, and appeared a little confused. He replied “Are 
you sure about that?” I told him I was and that if he wasn't he 
should get off the train here and walk back to the previous 
station where he could book a refresher course at Hendon College. 
He didn't like this and proceeded to lecture me about the duties 
of good citizenship, something which I found more amusing than 
tiresome. This lecture continued as we both got off the train and 
stood on the platform.

I must stress that at no time now or later did he try to detain 
me physically nor was his manner aggressive except in a figura-
tive sense. I had the impression that he was trying to impress 
the other passengers and that having failed he was now trying to 
save face by impressing me, although it transpired shortly that 
he had an ulterior motive. Ironically, as we stood there and the 
train pulled out I saw one of the other passengers lean over and 
pick up one of the newspapers which she would doubtless peruse 
before leaving it for the next passenger.

My unwelcome guest followed me up the stairs continuing to haran-
gue me and I told him repeatedly either to arrest me or get lost, 
and said rather bluntly finally that he should go and find some 
terrorists to arrest. He replied that was a strange thing for 
someone like me to say, something I didn't take in at the time.

When we reached the top of the stairs he rushed over to one of 
the staff; I was not in any rush myself, and outside I began 
removing my surgical collar, which had become a bit stifling. As 
I put it in my bag, Sherlock Holmes came up to me again and yet 
again started to lecture me on the duties of good citizens. 
Amusement was turning to boredom at this point, and I said final-
ly either arrest me or get lost, at which point he asked me for 
my name and address. I sighed, and said I would give him mine if 
he would give me his. He agreed and took out both his warrant 
card and a little yellow pad, which was definitely not a police 
issue pad. I then gave him my name and address: A Baron, 93c 
Venner Road, Sydenham, London SE26, and asked him for his de-
tails. He replied "You don't need them, Alexander," addressing me 
by my first name, which I hadn't given him.

I looked at his intently and he said "Don't you recognise me?" 
Finally the penny dropped. “Chainey?” I said.

I don't know what rank he is now, Detective Constable I hope, but 
in March 1993 he arrested me in what was clearly a politically 
motivated set up although he was an innocent dupe at the time. I 
subsequently sued the police, successfully, and now told him so.

He then said he had been hoping that I would give him a false 
name so that he had a genuine pretext to arrest me. (He probably 
recognised me from my surgical collar which I wear intermittently 
and which I had worn then). When I asked why, he said that he 
didn't like some of the things I had written about him on the 
Internet, and that anyway I was a racist thug. As I have never 
been convicted of any racially motivated offence I asked him what 
he meant and he said something about the sort of people I associ-
ate with. When I pressed him for further enlightenment he said 
that I was the last person on Earth to tell him he should be 
chasing Islamic terrorists on account of what I was and that I 
could expect a visit from some colleagues of his in the near 

He seemed to think I am a Moslem, I am not, although I do belong 
to an Islamic organisation, something he made a lot of capital 
about and was most unhappy with in 1993. It was plain at this 
point that his try-on on the train had been personally motivated. 
I know for a fact that in 1993 he gave confidential information 
about me to a man named Gerry Gable, my arch-enemy, although 
proving this is another matter.

Incredibly as we parted he offered to shake hands and said that 
next time I wouldn't be so lucky. I declined.

I have no doubt that most if not all of the above is bravado but 
I want this recorded as since the 1993 arrest I have been subjec-
ted to intermittent police surveillance, at least one attempt at 
entrapment, and harassment of a far more serious nature by people 
decidedly more unpleasant than officer Chainey. I would also like 
an apology or at least a retraction for his claim that I am a 
racist thug. If he got this "information" from his chum Mr Gable, 
then he has been wilfully misled. 

Two other minor points, if officer Chainey is unhappy about what 
I've written about him on the Internet he will be ever more 
unhappy by the time he learns about this. And especially at times 
like this I would suggest it is not a good idea for the police to 
wilfully alienate ordinary members of the public, even people 
like me. If I had torn up the newspapers and thrown them all over 
the seats I wouldn't have objected, but I left them where they 
were for the next passenger. On the way home that night I counted 
eight such newspapers; when I went into town the following Thurs-
day I counted over forty, mostly copies of London "Metro". Using 
his perverted logic I would expect to see scores of commuters ar-
rested at London's main line stations for littering, and the 
companies who publish freesheets like London "Metro" prosecuted for 
incitement under one of the various litter acts.

Yours sincerely,
A Baron

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