He was in hospital for four days after the shooting and then had to keep returning for a good while after as the wound healed. The unlikely friendship has blossomed into something incredibly powerful and both men now regard the other as a friend. As I looked across, I [saw my colleague] Simon struggling with Leroy rolling around [and] Simon nearly had the better of him,” he told MyLondon. It is a wonder Smith is alive at all. His mother was murdered when he was two and by the age of 12 he was bunking off school, driving stolen cars, thieving and smoking weed.

The media headlines that we read about Muslims in prisons may focus on radicalisation but Smith says that if anyone is to blame for that it is the politicians and authorities who drive people into that state.

When he encountered the policemen in 1993 he was on the run from jail having escaped while being transferred from Leicester to Brixton Prison under arrest for gun charges.

He did keep tabs on Leroy over the years through a victim’s support officer and this was how James found out about his book. Leroy Smith and James Seymour, the police officer he shot in 1993, are now friends (Image: Facundo Arrizabalaga/MyLondon)Through the Victim Support charity, James had been keeping tabs on Leroy's life and, out of natural curiosity, read his book that detailed a life growing up in 1980s Brixton after his mother had been murdered when he was just two years old. I was nervous,” James explained. “[I thought] was I doing the right thing? Did he genuinely want to redeem himself? And was he genuine?” In 1977, after follow-up singles enjoyed success in the clubs but failed to top the charts, the band took part in a Song For Europe in a bid to represent the UK in the Eurovision Song Contest. The song came eighth and shortly after that the band was dropped by its label and split.

Then Leroy pulled out a handgun out, he hit Simon in the leg with it, then the gun went off again, breaking his thigh bone, he told me to ‘disappear’. Having been released from prison for a second time his then partner provided the support and inspiration for him to change course.Leroy Smith was born in London 1968. His mother, Perlita, was murdered when Leroy was just 2 years old and he was subsequently brought up by grandmother, Gladys, in Clapham, South London.

Mr Smith’s book about his life was read by the former officer he shot, who reached out and said he wanted to meet with him. It is a story that the unlikely pals also share with younger generations of Londoners who are believed to be at risk of falling into the violent world that first brought them together almost 20 years ago. Now out of jail, he is trying to start again from nothing, knowing that the forces that drew him into a life of violence in the first place are – in some respects – even stronger than before.Manchester pop biographer John Robb said: "Sweet Sensation were absolutely massive for a while in the Seventies. He retired from policing in 2014 after 30 year’s on service and returned to police driving school in 2016. Mr Seymour currently trains police officers to drive on blue lights, pursuits and surveillance techniques. Go to college. Live your life in a non-violent way. Don’t get confused, don’t get caught up in it. I say to people, empower yourself. Going down that route, you cannot win.” He then spent a few yeas on the run in Jamaica and the United States, living the high life as a drug dealer. The girls were readily available and the weed was plentiful. During this time Smith led a violent, high-risk life, as he explains: Smith gives a fascinating account of his time in jail. Violence and drugs were part of everyday life inside and inmates played out petty and violent feuds among themselves and their guards. He says that prison eventually destroyed his ego.