The fear came when Detective Sergeant Don Fisher was looking for you - and there was nowhere to hide.
And respect was what Fish gave people - and what he deserved in return - no matter who you were.
Fish, as he is most commonly known, retired last week after 50 years with the police, mostly with the CIB where he gained an unparalleled reputation for catching burglars.
He says his crime-solving, crook-catching ways are a result of the relationships he has built over many years.
“I was told when I joined the CIB to go out and buy myself a good pair of shoes because ‘you'll be doing a lot of walking, knocking on doors, going around pubs, speaking to people, getting your face out there so people know who you are’,” said Fish.
These days you can bet every pawnbroker in Christchurch knows Fish by name - while some may even consider him family.
Offenders, too, are well acquainted with Fish, as are many of their children and grandchildren now.
This was helped by Fish's remarkable memory for names and faces, leading some to say: "If you can’t find it on the computer, go and see Fish".
“I’ve always tried to build a rapport with the people I deal with, including offenders,” says Fish, who is also known as ‘Little Wanganui’.
“I used to check to see who’d been arrested overnight and I'd ask the watchhouse keeper to take ‘Johnny’ out to the loading bay. I'd meet Johnny there, give him a cup of coffee and a cigarette and chew the fat.
“It wasn’t an interview - I would just check in to see how things were going: ‘How's the family? What's happening in your life that's driving you to commit burglaries?’"
Fish is careful to explain his approach was not just about gathering intel, it was about building relationships.
His empathetic approach was extended towards victims of crime. A victim himself of multiple burglaries, he knew how they felt.
It was that strong sense of empathy that inspired Fish to join the police in the first place.
“Like most others, I really just wanted to help people,” he says.
Fish grew up on a dairy farm in Clandeboye, north of Timaru.
One of nine siblings, he knew how to look after himself.
“I’d always wanted to join the police but the height factor was against me until the height was lowered to 5’8 (1.76m).
"Nowadays, I might be considered a giant.”
Fish describes his experience at the Sir Francis Kitts Wing 59 at Police Training School as a real eye-opener.
He said it was like “a new entrant at boarding school”.
Apart from five years in Ashburton, Christchurch is where he stayed.
Now, with 50 years under his belt, Fish says there are too many stories to tell.
There was the time he scared the life out of a bike thief by jumping out from behind a bush, grabbing his handlebars and introducing himself as Detective Sergeant Fisher.
Then there was the pillowcase thief who would break into people’s homes and stuff their pillowcases full of stolen items.
Fish led the investigation team and managed to return a lot of the stolen property by getting the victims to identify their linen.
Once Fish became aware of a planned ram-raid at Harvey Norman.
He and his crew observed the location and, sure enough, a car drove straight through the plate glass entrance and into the foyer.
“The driver put the car in reverse to smash the window into Harvey Norman’s proper, but the tyres just kept spinning. He kept revving and revving until he realised the tile floor was so shiny he couldn’t get any grip. So he got out of the car and started running.
“We had people waiting for him down the road, so we let him go for a bit. In the end, I think he was happy to get picked up because he was so exhausted.”
“I was young - young looking - and small in stature. I went in with a sergeant who was probably 6'6" (1.82m) and 18 stone (114kg).
“In those days, every time you went to the pub, people would say: ‘Here come the pigs'.
"But this night, some quick-witted guy said: ‘No it's not, it's the pig and the piglet!'
"I’ll never forget that, I had to smile.”
One of Fish’s most memorable arrests happened during his time in Ashburton.
It was Christchurch Show Day, a public holiday in Ashburton, and he’d just finished the night shift.
“I was walking home along the main street at about five in the morning, and there were lots of big trucks and trailer units rumbling through town. Whenever there was a lull, I heard a strange noise.
“After a while, I recognised it as nails being pulled out of roofing iron and it was coming from Woolworths. There were no cell phones in those days, so I ran to the public phone box, called 111 and asked for the early shift to come and meet me.
“We put staff at each end of the alleyway, and I went up onto the roof. As I got there, I saw a male running across the roof, down the fire escape and out of sight. He ran straight to the arms of the police officer at the end of the alleyway.
“I went back and sure enough, sheets of roofing iron had been removed and a large rope had been tied round the rafter. We found explosives in his bag, which he was planning to use to blow the safe.
“He'd done this homework. He’d cased the place, he knew it was a public holiday, he probably knew it was our change of shift. But what he didn’t take into account was the suspicious alert of Constable Fisher walking home at that precise time!
“To catch a burglar on the job is a buzz; but to catch a guy who's going through the roof to blow the safe, that was an extra buzz!”
He recalls how hard it was to focus on the crowd as instructed during the final test at Eden Park when “this mad bomber was flying over and the game was so tense".
“It wasn’t really until I got back home that I realised just how serious it was and how lucky it was that no one was killed."
Throughout his career with the CIB, Fish worked on a number of homicide cases and other serious crimes.
“Working on a major investigation is what young detectives join the CIB for. It's like a team sport. Each individual brings different skills and flair and it’s how you mould them and get the best out of them that gets results.
“Whether it’s closure for the family of a homicide victim or returning stolen property, I’ve always found that part of the job hugely satisfying.”
Fish has a strong affiliation with rugby. He coached for many years and is currently president of Belfast Rugby Football Club.
“Rugby has been a great release valve for me. It keeps you involved with the community and it's a great break from police work.”
He has also used rugby as a recruiting tool, with several serving officers who had been coached by Fish crediting him for their police careers.
“When I talk to people about promotion, the one piece of advice I give them all is to be a leader in the field first and foremost, as opposed to a manager at your desk.
“Junior staff don't need you micromanaging them. On the streets is where they need you, not three days later when you're sitting at your desk in hindsight and saying: ‘Why didn’t you do this? Why didn't you do that?'
“Sometimes I hear the old catch cry: ‘We haven't got enough staff’. But I always say: 'If you are the only staff member, you can still do something'.
"Rather than sitting there complaining about what we haven’t got, get out there to do the best with what we have got.
“It's like sport - it’s all very well to say: ‘Let's go out and win this game’. But realistically, it’s about putting in a performance you can be proud of.
“I've loved policing with a passion. I bound out of bed in the morning, get to work and, as some staff would say: 'I'd forget to go home'.”
When Fish graduated from his initial training, Commandant Bill Overton wrote on his final appraisal: "This young man won’t last long".
Clearly Fish took that as a challenge. “I must admit, there have been times I thought he was probably correct, but I think I've just about proved him wrong.”
