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Couple bleeped off by mysterious beep
Friday 12th October 2012 | Liam
A retired couple from Frinton, Essex, were harassed by a mystery beeping noise for over a year. They stopped at nothing to rid of it*
Paul and Jeanette Henry were driven to "extreme lengths" as they struggled to locate an annoying beep that recurred every 30 seconds, 24 hours a day, for over a year. In a bid to speed up the search they brought in an electrician to “conduct some experiments”. But after a week confined to the Henrys’ basement monitoring the heart rates of mice running around a maze on a variety of new science pills, the electrician concluded he was no closer to locating the source of the beep, admitting that he probably should have spent more time turning electrical appliances on and off.
Next the Henrys called on a builder to “tear some sh*t up,” Mr Henry, 67, reportedly said.
The builder, allegedly unlicenced and insisting he be referred to as The Crusader, arrived equipped with a sledgehammer, custom-made mortar, and a belt loaded with grenades strapped to his chest. Not to mention a velvet cape.
After a full day of knocking through plaster walls, exploding the bath, shooting a flock of gulls out of the sky and blowing a hole in the roof, 'The Crusader' conceded that the beep may never be found and left in despair, presenting the Henrys with a cheque for a "standard" £1,000 call-out charge.
But true to the spirit of the Blitz, Mr and Mrs Henry refused to give in. They had taken to crawling around their “bomb site” on all fours wearing industrial ear muffs. Neighbours likened the state of the house to “something from Beirut. It’s destroying tourism in Frinton,” said one worried councillor.
The couple had become so finely attuned to the beep that they anticipated it to the nanosecond. “Occasionally I thought it was running late but then I realised I was going mad and was counting only in even numbers,” said Mrs Henry.
Hundreds of locals volunteered to aid with the search. For two weeks they combed the two-storey coastal town house but to no avail. Windows were smashed, doors unhinged, the washing machine was unplumbed – resulting in thousands of pounds of excessive water damage – and still the beep continued, getting louder and louder by the day.
A close friend of the Henrys who used up his two weeks’ holiday time to help out, said: “I suggested at one point that we should listen out for the beep and hone in on it every 30 seconds. With hundreds of people listening out the beep would be located in no time. But they just looked at me like I’d just offered them a gourmet baby sandwich.”
Following the unsuccessful search party the Henrys were at the end of their tether. “There was nothing else for it,” said Mr Henry. They called up the army. Swathes of soldiers took time from training for deployment to Afghanistan to move in on the Henrys’ house armed with tanks and JCBs. The troops used high-tech heat-seeking equipment designed for detecting mines in remote strips of desert but their efforts proved in vain.
A specialist controlled explosives unit were dispatched from a passing black hawk. They cordoned off the house to conduct further tests. After several hours they decided the best option was to “demolish” the house, taking the beep with it.
The house was swiftly demolished under controlled conditions. For the 29-second period following the explosion, the Henrys, their friends, the town of Frinton and every member of the armed forces involved, held their breath. Just as they were about to release a collective sigh of relief the beep sounded again, louder and more disgruntled than before.
Mr Henry bent down and sieved through the rubble, revealing a battered old chest of drawers, from which he pulled out a wheezing smoke alarm with a dying 10-year-old battery inside. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. “A fire alarm! Oh the irony,” he said gesturing to the flattened remains of his house.
By Liam McKenna
*Slightly exaggerated for dramatic effect.
