The story about the police spree killer from the 1960s being released recently (presumably to avoid the expense of his dying in gaol) brings back another memory. While he was still on the run, we were travelling north to attend the wedding in Dunfermline of a flatmate. Roddie was driving a borrowed A40 with me as passenger, with our friend Les in his own jalopy in the rear. Somewhere on the A1 we became aware that Les was no longer close behind us but had been stopped by the police, because of some defect they had spotted, if I recall correctly. They seemed to be spending rather a long time for a simple construction and use violation, until we realised that the patrol would have asked his name and received the answer: Roberts.
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