Down The Rabbit Hole

I first heard about the White Rabbit shortly after I joined the Metropolitan Police in 1982. A gnarled old detective at Shepherds Bush Police station in west London, who had clearly given up on both the prospect of promotion and becoming the new face of L’Oreal, told me the story. It transpired that several years previously a career criminal with a lengthy record of offences involving violence and – much to the frustration of the Criminal Investigation Department (CID)2- a history of far too many subsequent
acquittals, was arrested, while on his way home from the pub, for a large number of burglaries and assaults. He was placed in police custody overnight and appeared at Marylebone Magistrates Court the following day, where a full typed confession, signed by the suspect, was tendered in evidence. The suspect proclaimed his innocence, swearing on his mother’s grave that he had been forced to sign the confession against his will…