With private-sector villainy and public-sector complicity, what makes this HMO scandal so characteristic of modern Britain is how far the guilt spreads
F
an of true crime? Then this column is for you. Rather than some cold case told through yellowing newspapers and sepia photos, this one is still happening. And just wait for the plot twist! But first let me outline the key facts; your challenge is to decide who’s guilty.
Our crime scene is a redbrick townhouse built in the last years of Victoria – tall, battered but undeniably handsome. It’s in Bowes Park, on London’s northern outskirts – the kind of neighbourhood that on a Friday afternoon offers nice cafes, a community-owned pub and some WFH dads wandering the streets scavenging for ciabatta sandwiches.
Now look closer. Outside our house is a jumble of bags and trolleys and suitcases, while, despite the late-October chill, the front door is wide open.
