Stop a shoplifter – or try to – and get the sack. That’s the stark reality facing Waitrose staff this weekend as store thieves prepare to sally forth on their Saturday supermarket sweeps and grab whatever they fancy off the shelves. Store theft is at epidemic levels. The fate of Waitrose staffer Walker Smith – 17 years of loyal service to the chain under his belt – beggars belief. Walker spotted a known thief – a man who’d repeatedly targeted Walker’s store – hoovering up a shelfload of Easter eggs.
Yes, Smith knew that his employer’s policy was that staff should not physically intervene to stop a villain. But, as he later admitted, something inside him “just snapped” as he watched the crook prepared to casually stroll off with his swag, as per usual. So he stepped in to stop him. There was a brief struggle, the thief broke free and ran off (leaving his ill-gotten gains behind) and… Smith was sacked. In breach of company rules. No quarter given. Out on his ear.
This is where criminal law clashes with a company edict. Because, under the Police and Criminal Evidence Act of 1984, Walter Smith was fully entitled (some might feel obliged) to make a Citizen’s Arrest.
Anyone who’s not a policeman has the right to arrest someone they honestly believe is in the act of committing ‘an indictable offence’. Provided they use ‘proportionate and reasonable force’ to detain the suspect, they’re fully protected under the law of the land. But not, in Walker Smith’s case, from the rules of his employer.
Step forward Iceland boss Richard Walker. He said his namesake should have been given a reward for his efforts, not his cards, and has offered Smith a job comparable with his old one. Walker also says the law must change, urgently, to allow store security staff to carry pepper sprays, batons and possibly handcuffs, and receive fully licensed training in making physical arrests, safely and efficiently.
Who could possibly argue with that? Other than the wimps running Waitrose.
Richard kindly left me a chocolate Easter egg at the foot of the bed on Sunday (I refuse to hunt for one at my age). It was my favourite – chocolate orange – so after early morning tea, I dug in. Hmm. Something was not quite right. The consistency was… limp.
More like pate than what should have been crisp and crunchy. Then there was the taste. A faintly unpleasant, oleaginous quality that put me off after only a couple of mouthfuls. I shoved it aside and opened my Sunday Express. And there was the answer. I read Easter eggs are increasingly made with cheap palm oil, not more expensive milk. I checked the box and yes, palm oil was the culprit.
British farmer Gareth Wyn Jones condemns the practice, saying: “It’s disgraceful. There’s nothing better than milk to make Easter eggs.”