SOMETIME ago, someone thought that the former Nick in Deansway was haunted by an old copper in a cape.

It was even suggested that he was the multi-murderer of Wyld's Lane.

But the only problem with that theory was the wretched man never served at this Nick.

I am sure, however, the place must still vibrate and be coated in the noises, smells and characters both good and bad that passed through its portals before it was vacated by our modern counterparts.

The sickly smell of cooking beetroots was a stench I will always associate with an old copper who always brought a month's supply to cook when he was on duty. Well it did save the gas at home!

One old sergeant, a lovely chap, had a loud, infectious laugh that filled the station with gaiety and he brought a cheerful atmosphere to the Nick.

At night, the old-time sergeants would settle down in the Information Room with their bread and cheese and enormous, pungent onions. The eye-watering vapours would hit you if you had the misfortune to enter the room.

Even if I had been blindfolded I could tell instantly where I was standing if I smelled the concoction of unwashed bodies and carbolic - I would be in the cell passage.

The smell never went away from this airless place, the temporary home of thousands of "no hopers".

The loud roar of one senior officer must still vibrate around the Nick when he was giving someone a "rocket" and I had the touchpaper lit under my tail a few times!

I must admit, however, that this stern officer ran the city like clockwork.

JOE WALTER,

Worcester.