After several hours, a nice kip and an interview the kindly officers decided that I would get away with a caution (or a warning as it's called in Scotland). No way. I made it perfectly clear before I left the house that I wouldn't accept a caution and it's been my advice to anyone, not completely bang to rights, for the last 30 years. Do not accept a caution. It is an admission of guilt. It goes on your record. Although it isn't technically a conviction it can still cause you problems years later when you apply for a job or a visa. Just say no thanks and sit tight.
After consulting the inspector they came back to tell me that no offence had been committed after all and I was free to go. 'No offence eh?' I said. 'But you would have taken a caution though'. Bastards.
Then one of the officers handed me the Dyson attachment they had brought with them to the station and pointed me to the door. Hang on! This vacuuming accessory was the very thing that almost got the armed response unit out a few hours earlier! Now it's OK to wander the streets of Aberdeen with it in my hand? 'I'll get something to cover it' say's the copper and comes back with it wrapped in a black bin liner. 'Jeez, now it really does look like a fucking gun', I say, waving it around to make my point. Much hilarity ensued. 'OK' , I say, 'just give me enough time to get home before you respond to any calls about a man carrying a gun through the town center. I remember what happened to that poor guy with the table-leg'.
The moral being that you should not rely on the power of the law: rely on Mike Power instead...