How could the Met Police let a rapist cop get away with it… AGAIN?
IT was, they assured us, a once-in-a-generation horror story, one never to be repeated.
Lessons, we were told, had been learnt.
The police, said the Met’s then-commissioner, were a force for good.
Wayne Couzens was a rotten apple in an orchard ripe with superheroes.
Less than two years later, here we are again.
This time the future and livelihoods of 12 women destroyed by the evil of yet another copper.
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Over the course of a 17-year reign of terror, David Carrick carried out 71 sex offences during his time as a serving Met firearms officer.
To say he breached his position of trust is beyond understate- ment.
Carrick would flash his warrant card, telling women: “I’m a police officer, you can trust me.”
After his attacks he taunted his victims by saying they would never be believed because he was a policeman.
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Horrifyingly, he was right.
This “man” — a noun which does disservice to decent, honest, kind men everywhere — was nicknamed “B*****d Dave” by colleagues.
The PC was able to torture and abuse from 2003 to 2020, despite coming to police attention NINE times before his arrest follow- ing rape and domestic violence allegations made against him.
HOW, HOW, HOW?
Yesterday, the Met apologised for its failure to stop Carrick as No 10 warned trust in the police had, once again, been “shattered”.
Assistant Commissioner Barbara Gray, the Met’s lead for professionalism, apologised and said Carrick’s offending was “unprecedented in policing”.
Except, Asst Commissioner Gray, it wasn’t, was it?
Has Scotland Yard learned nothing from Wayne Couzens?
Or the stream of vile WhatsApp rape “jokes” exchanged by Charing Cross officers?
Or, even, the strip-search of a teenage girl at school while she was menstruating?
The vast majority of the Thin Blue Line are decent people. yet a recent review identified around 1,000 current officers and staff who have been the subject of allegations of sexual offences which could not be proven, or subject to misconduct proceedings.
It is all absolutely terrifying.
This latest abuse, though, is a scandal too far. In short, Women have never had it so bad.
The suffragettes risked life and limb to give us the vote.
But none of it, none, matters a jot when we can’t nip to Tesco Express after 5pm in January.
When we don’t know if the creepy guy staring at us on the bus wants our telephone number . . . or our vaginas, in an alleyway.
When, day by day, our very identity is being eroded.
When our obsession with gender neutral has seen, among less seemingly trivial things, women excluded from this year’s Best Artist shortlist at The Brits.
When women in sport are being erased by their genetically advantaged trans counterparts.
When women are too scared to report an assault because they fear hostility or, as bad, indifference by men in uniform.
And, now, when we fear reporting a rape in case the officer, too, is a rapist.
After Sarah Everard’s heartbreaking and needless death there was mass public outcry the likes of which hadn’t been seen before in this country.
The nation was united in shock and anger.
Women shared their stories of shame and grief, men collectively promised to be more socially conscious, to change.
How quickly we felt obliged to accept our lot in life, and shuffle back back to grim, apathetic acceptance.
Enough is enough.
Social media, Parliament, the media, brilliant organisations like Reclaim These Streets; we must all rally and hold the police, those paid to protect us, to account.
The police enforce the law, no longer can they also be above it.
WINNER JEN HAS FINALLY GOT A PIZZA THE ACTION
SOMETIMES, just sometimes, Hollywood delivers.
Days after scooping a Golden Globe, Jennifer Coolidge was named Critics’ Choice Awards Best Supporting Actress.
The 61-year-old cult icon – who binge ate six pizzas a day in lockdown as she was so miserable – has had a career revival thanks to her unforgettable, show-stealing performances in The White Lotus.
(If you haven’t already, watch both series - some of the most wittily original telly in years).
Proving that it’s never, ever too late, she said: “I want to say to all the people out there, for all the people have sort of given up hope . . . I hope this gives you inspiration.
“It’s not over till it’s over, it’s not over till you’re dead. So please, thank you.”
Wonderful.
THE privacy-loving Harry Windsor has entered the Guinness Book of World Records after flogging 1.43million copies of his autobiography on its first day on sale.
In a PR masterclass, Prince “it’s all the British media’s fault” Harry successfully got himself endless coverage across in the British media.
The British media-hating Duke slammed the British media, using the British media.
And without such widespread coverage in the dastardly British media, would he have secured 1.43 million sales
No.
Ingenious.
WHAT A PAW SHOW
THE market for pet apparel (that’s animal clothes to you and I) is worth £4.7billion.
Now, for the first time, pet wear has been featured at one of the world’s largest fashion shows, Pitti Uomo in Florence, Italy.
Designers paraded their canine models and muses in an assortment of snazzy little collars, leads, booties, T-shirts, coats and harnesses.
Which is all very well in Florence.
But anyone who makes their bulldog mince around London’s Hackney Marshes in “booties” shouldn’t, frankly, be allowed an animal.
AS is so often the case with politicians, Sir Keir Starmer was damned if he did, damned if he didn’t.
On Sunday the Labour leader claimed he’d never used private healthcare – and was promptly slammed for clogging up our already overworked NHS when he can afford to go private.
This, of course, comes a few days after Rishi Sunak was slated for the polar opposite:
Going private, when – according to the masses – he should be endorsing the NHS.
BLUBBY IS A BIG HERO
IN a world obsessed with body image, it’s good to see a male celeb owning some BoPo (Body Positivity).
Step forward, Mr Blubby.
The grey seal, a recent tourist attraction at Marks Hall Fishery in Rochford, Essex, where he’s taken up residence, has apparently doubled in size over the past month.
Mr Blubby, seemingly unconcerned by #costofliving, has also gobbled up £3,000 worth of fresh fish.
The semi-aquatic marine mammal – now tipping the scales at around 1,500lb, up from his pre-Christmas weight of 750lb – is doggedly avoiding capture by both the RSPCA and police.
A creature after my own heart.
COFFEE TREND MILKED
BECAUSE what the planet needs right now is another marketing gimmick.
But here we are.
“Magic coffee” is, we’re breathlessly told, the “new flat white”.
It’s a mixture of ristretto – a more intense version of espresso – and steamed milk.
The “magic” ratio of milk to espresso (10oz to 2oz, if you care) apparently brings out the sweet-ness of the coffee.
It went on sale at M&S stores nationwide last week, and as with any good press release, is apparently flying off the shelves/barista machines.
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So, er, essentially a milky coffee – i.e. coffee for babies.
Just order a Nesquick with ya Coco Pops and be done with it, guys.