Watching the Amateur Detectives (Part Two)

I spoke too soon about that Bristol murder case - with the police having released what appears to be their main suspect on bail, the press have reopened their own investigations. Not that the police are helping themselves much. I mean, what were they thinking of when they revealed that one of the victim's socks was missing? They even told everyone the colour: grey. For God's sake, don't they realise that sort of detail will only encourage the media? Damn it, 'The Mystery of the Grey Sock', (or perhaps the 'Case of the Missing Sock'), even sounds like a bloody Agatha Christie story. Come to think of it, I'm sure I saw either Miss Marple or Hercule Poirot investigating it over Christmas. Then there was the speculation that there might be more than one killer - all because at a press conference the police referred to the 'killer or killers'. Again, don't they realise that sort of chance remark will set the press of on a whole new course of private investigations. Interestingly, reporting of the case got so bad that, for the better part of twenty four hours, ITV News found themselves barred from official press conferences.

Apparently, Avon and Somerset Police had objected to an ITV News report which had criticised their handling of the investigation. Well, obviously no official police investigation could be as good as the unofficial ones conducted by the media with their crack teams of crime reporters. Clearly, they've all seen too many of those 1930s Hollywood B-pictures where intrepid journalists succeed in solving the cases the police can't crack, either through stupidity or corruption. Cases which often seem to involve body snatching, ghouls, apes and assorted mad scientists (usually played by Bela Lugosi). Sadly, today's tabloid journalists would have trouble finding their own farts in a bath tub, let alone uncovering a murderer. Perhaps they should employ their own private detectives, (actually, the News of the World did, but not for solving murders), who could solve newsworthy crimes with the aid of their cheque books, mobile phone taps and hidden surveillance cameras. Assisted, of course, by their big-busted, frequently topless, female sidekick. In fact, that sounds like it could make a good TV series, probably starring Ray Winstone. Actually, I like it so much, it could become a story over at The Sleaze...