A relative of mine (by marriage, I hasten to add) lives in some far-flung god forsaken place called Canada. His stepson fell in with what is usually termed ‘a bad crowd’ and got roped in to be the getaway driver in a robbery.

Unfortunately for this gang of clueless villains, the getaway car broke down hours before the big job, but young Alan (as we’ll call him) saved the day by coming up with a replacement at short notice, and the robbery went ahead as planned.

Next morning, as Alan’s Mum awoke and looked out the window, she saw her car was missing, and rang the police.

The rest, as they say, is history.