Barry Appleton

After some health problems, I decided it was time to shuffle gracefully into the sunset, potter about in the garden for a while, and enjoy the occasional bottle of wine. My granddaughters thought otherwise, wanting to know what I was doing during the war, besides kicking a football up against a garage door. Half-heartedly, I started to throw down my life in the vague shape of an autobiography. Then the much-admired Oliver Crocker, for me the ‘Anthony Newley of writers’, entered stage left, announcing he was now ghostwriting. After much encouragement from Oliver, and much persuasion and help from my daughter, Sacha, he skillfully captured previously unexposed details of my incredible police career, a job that was dangerous at times, and high on emotion. Pam, my loving wife and soul mate, shared this wonderful journey. Without Pam’s love, inspiration and total commitment in keeping our family together, we wouldn’t have made it through all the good and seriously bad times. We often sought peace, reflection and hope through our faith.
Looking back at my life for Twentieth Century Cop has been a huge experience for me, bringing forth memories I’d almost forgotten, and appreciating the unbelievable life I’ve led, coming from the Welsh valleys to 20 years in the Metropolitan Police, to writing for top-rated police dramas on TV, to “retiring” to Cyprus. Steeped in social history, the book opens our eyes to policing in the late Fifties through to the Seventies, certainly a different police force from today. When I joined the Met, the Krays were local villains of no real significance, until their older brother Charlie, who had designs on being a theatrical agent, decided his brothers desperately needed a PR job. He promoted them as necessary minders to showbusiness types and potential cinema stars of the day. Prominent MP’s also enjoyed Ronnie and Reggie’s company. The twins were on their way up and truly believed they were the answer to America’s notorious Mafia. The rest, as they say, is history. As you’ll discover in my memoir, I had a few memorable run-ins with the Krays and their associates.
I spent most of time in the CID, joining the Flying Squad in 1968, and becoming involved in the most extraordinary cases of that era. The camaraderie and dedication of the officers I served with, especially on Five Squad, will always remain fixed in my memory with much affection. We all have a bit of an actor in us, and I played many parts through my undercover work. But when I was assigned to befriend James Earl Ray, the man who murdered Martin Luther King, that assignment was different. I played the part of a bank robber, who knew he was going away for a long time. I was put in a cell next to Ray at Canon Row Police Station, where he was waiting for the result of an extradition order. We exercised together in the mornings and I used to share a smoke with him. Once, when I said something he didn’t like, he stared at me and I will never forget the moment I looked into the steel cold eyes of a killer.

Barry Appleton Police Cadet 1957

Another moment that sticks in my memory, for a different reason, was searching for drugs in an expensive apartment, behind Park Lane, in the early hours of the morning. Five Squad were on night duty, which thankfully only came around every ten weeks. An anonymous call had come in, which we didn’t really act on unless there was some proof. I was with another officer in the area, so we checked it out. We’d been let into the apartment by a young girl, only wearing a man’s shirt. The man was in bed fast asleep, with half a bottle of vodka on the bedside table. We searched the room without waking him up and found nothing. I sat on the side of the bed and shook the guy. The first thing he did was grab the bottle of vodka and took a large swig. He didn’t seem bothered by our presence at all, just wanted to go back to sleep. I thought there was something familiar about him, but it didn’t click. I took out my notebook and asked for his name. ‘Stan Getz’ he said. I couldn’t believe it! This guy was one of my favourite jazz musicians. I sat for about an hour with him, during which he offered me a swig from his bottle several times. We talked about jazz, his reminiscences of Chet Baker and Bill Evans, the epitome of beautiful music from that era. Getz had been playing at Ronnie Scott’s that evening and hadn’t been asleep for long. It was obvious he’d been set up. We shook hands and he went back to sleep.
For me, this was one of the good times as a law enforcer. There were exceptions to come in the days that followed, from running across rooftops with a 38’ Smith & Wesson, chasing an IRA suspect, and being involved in a shootout during an attempted robbery. I fired first. In 1970, I was almost killed in the line of duty. As the decade drew to a close, I started to think about the risks I’d been taking and realised I should think hard about spending more time with my family, before it became too late. Decision time. I left the force after twenty years with no regrets.
Pam and I bought a pub in Potters Bar, which was a great time for both of us. We made a lot of new friends, including Teresa Howard, who became a very important person in my life. She suggested I become a writer and ended up becoming my first agent. Another important person in my life was Michael Chapman, the Thames TV producer who asked me to check out a script for a new pilot called Woodentop… After I made quite a few important suggestions to the script, Michael employed me as the police advisor, before taking an even bigger chance on someone who had never wrote a script before… When The Bill went to a series, he commissioned me to write a script and I ended up writing eight of the first twelve episodes of The Bill. I eventually wrote 50 stories, before going on to write screenplays for Taggart.
Twentieth Century Cop is packed with stories from my escapades as a copper, on the streets and on the screen. I hope you enjoy it.
Twentieth Century Cop – The Flying Squad Detective Who Wrote The Bill is out now in Hardback from Pen & Sword Books