‘No nonsense’ cop who loved family and horses
He was known as a ‘‘hard-bitten, no-nonsense’’ policeman who worked long hours, digging the dirt on Christchurch’s criminal underworld.
Detective Senior Sergeant Alan Lynskey was an officer for more than 30 years. He led the Criminal Intelligence Section in the city’s Criminal Investigation Branch (CIB), and was awarded a Queen’s Police Medal for his service.
His supervisor, Detective Chief Inspector Bob McMeeking, knew Lynskey for almost 50 years.
‘‘Prior to his arrival in Christchurch, Alan’s reputation as a hard bitten nononsense policeman, who didn’t suffer fools gladly, had somewhat proceeded him,’’ McMeeking said.
‘‘[He managed] some of the most secretive and hazardous investigations and operations against the most hardened criminals.’’
Lynskey was nicknamed ‘‘Thumper’’ by his colleagues. How he got the name remains debatable, but rumours were he threatened to ‘‘thump’’ a criminal in the
interview room. Being short and thin, colleagues joked he couldn’t ‘‘thump’’ the offender because of his height and build.
Lynskey was born in Rangiora on January 6, 1934, to parents Clarence and Mona. He was the eldest of eight children and grew up in Kaiapoi.
He joined the force at 21, and was immediately put into uniform and sent out on the beat in Christchurch with no training. ‘‘It would be hard for the modern police to believe this could happen, in fact as I say it, it still seems remarkable to me now,’’ McMeeking said.
In Lynskey’s case, he had to wait six months to start training. He told other officers the wait was a nightmare because he could not understand his colleagues’ police jargon.
He was part of the last group trained in Lyttelton before training moved north to Trentham.
A year later, Lynskey joined the CIB and was a sergeant within five years.
He served in Hastings, then became a detective sergeant for the Wellington CIB in 1965. A year later, he rose to the rank of detective senior sergeant.
He returned to Christchurch in 1960. Later in the decade, he became the top cop in the Criminal Intelligence Section.
McMeeking described the intelligence section’s role as ‘‘ferreting in behind criminals’’.
‘‘It’s analysing criminal trends and the best place to put resources, to find out what they’re doing and who’s done what and what they’re planning to do next.’’
Detective John Borlase, who retired in 2013, worked for Lynskey in criminal intelligence for some years.
Borlase managed undercover officers in the field, while Lynskey oversaw the operations.
‘‘Thumper wasn’t only a legend of his time in Christchurch, but nationally for his ability to catch and apprehend the bad guy,’’ Borlase said. ‘‘He also had the respect of many in the criminal fraternity due to his firm but fair attitude.’’
Lynskey also coached a police rugby team, which Borlase played for.
‘‘It was rugby and policing but also connecting with the community,’’ Borlase said. ‘‘It was important for the PR in the Canterbury district.
‘‘Sunnyside Hospital was our home base, the patients would become our spectators on the sideline. You might deal with them in six months time . . . it kept that connection on a nice, friendly basis rather than good guy/bad guy stuff all the time.’’
Partly because they both had an interest in horses, the pair kept in touch after Lynskey retired from the police. ‘‘He’d always like to have a chat to know what was going on, about the welfare of others in the job. He was always loyal to the cause.’’
Lynskey retired from the force in 1988 and was honoured with a Queen’s Police Medal the same year. McMeeking called this a ‘‘rare and very high honour, sparingly awarded to members of exceptional service’’.
But in retirement he could not keep quiet and opened a horse feed business, Equine Feedroom, run from his home on Hasketts Rd. ‘‘The farm was basically his life when he retired and then he started the little grain business,’’ wife Marlene said. ‘‘He was still doing a little bit up to when we left the property.’’
Dave Lloyd was a loyal customer of Equine Feedroom.
‘‘His prices were competitive. He worked pretty hard – it’s not easy lugging those big bags of feed around. You don’t move one a day, you probably move 50 a day. He was one of those guys who didn’t want to put his feet up and read the paper, he wanted to keep going all the time.’’
The Lynskeys moved to Prebbleton about six years ago, but Marlene said her husband ‘‘dearly missed’’ the farm.
‘‘He had nothing to walk around except a section. He’s just not one to sit down and twiddle his thumbs.’’
Lynskey’s sister, Joan Krammer, said he appeared quiet but was loyal, honest and hard working.
‘‘[He] was well respected for his loyalty and dedication to upholding New Zealand law. He was a tough boss who demanded 100 per cent commitment to any operation, but he was protective of his staff and had their backs at all times.’’
Nineteen family members over three generations have joined the police, including Krammer, who was influenced by her older brother.
‘‘He was pretty quiet about his job but I think we just admired him,’’ she said.
‘‘Occasionally he’d tell us something. [I thought] I’d quite like to do it. I think it was variety more than anything for me.’’
Marlene described her husband as a ‘‘warrior’’.
‘‘He lived on adrenaline, he lived on his nerves, right till he died. Nothing ever changed.’’
Lynskey died in Christchurch Hospital in June, aged 85 after a short illness.
He is survived by his wife, four siblings, four children, eight grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren.