Crime Scene Investigator (14 page)

In this case a man had been arrested for armed robbery, which was a Serious Arrestable Offence under the Act. I wanted an immediate head-hair combing. This was non-intimate sample as defined by the Act. It was from the exterior of the body and not from an intimate area. The reason I wanted to take this sample was because I believed that if the suspect was the offender and had worn the mask which had now been recovered, there was a strong chance that it would contain fibres from the mask. It would indicate recent contact, and it could indicate recent wearing.

For this to happen the suspect would have to agree in writing by signing a consent record and we would need the authority of an officer of the rank of inspector. This too was required by the Act. This was to ensure that we were not idly wasting our time and breaching the suspect’s rights. The inspector would have to be convinced that the taking of the non-intimate sample would potentially prove or disprove the suspect’s involvement in the offence. I was happy to advise so. Indeed I was pretty sure that if the mask was woolly as described and, given the prompt arrest and competent sampling, if he were the offender fibres would be found. If there were no fibres, that would be a pretty firm indication that the suspect was not involved. It was quite simple. Other more lengthy examinations might indeed follow, such as comparison of clothing, examination of the knife and money for fingerprints, but they would only conclude the same.

The examination of the suspect’s hair for fibres originating from the mask were, in my opinion and emerging experience, a focused and powerful evidential indicator.

We had to go through the process of first asking for the consent of the suspect himself. However, if the suspect refused we had another card up our sleeves. As this was a Serious Arrestable Offence, a police superintendent could authorise the sample to be taken without the suspect’s written consent. Any force required would have to be applied by police officers and, as a civilian, I would have to be excluded from the sampling as this could constitute an assault for which only police officers were authorised.

There was, however, a difficult problem. Once put to the suspect, he would know our intentions and the potential evidence we were seeking. I prepared myself to take the sample as soon as we had the appropriate consent and authority. When the custody sergeant went into the cell to ask for the written consent I waited outside. Not surprisingly the suspect refused to consent. What he wasn’t expecting was that I had arranged for two officers to sit with him, in order to prevent him trying to wash his hair in the toilet bowl in his cell. However unpleasant that sounds it would not be the first time a suspect has tried to conceal their guilt in such a way. I wasn’t going to give him that opportunity.

The police superintendent in charge of the station arrived quickly and the request made to him to take the samples without the written consent of the suspect. The superintendent was a large Scottish man with a booming voice. To my surprise he needed a little persuading. Either my explanation or his faith in the science did little to convince him. It was true, the taking of a sample by force, if that were needed, would be messy, extremely difficult and probably futile. If the suspect would allow the sample to be taken without a struggle, then I would be best placed and trained to take it. It would just be that he did not consent in writing. With the super’s authority, that would be allowed within the rules of the Police and Criminal Evidence Act (PACE).

However, the superintendent was still uncertain whether the potential to find evidence which would ‘prove or disprove’ the suspect’s involvement was there. In the end I put it as simply as I could. The mask by all accounts was woolly; if the suspect had worn the mask, in my experience there would be fibres in his hair from the mask; if he had not, none would be found. The super was convinced and granted the authority.

Now came the really difficult part of taking the sample. There was every chance that the suspect would struggle and the taking of the sample would be compromised. He was a well-built man. The suspect would be warned in such a case where he refused and no sample was taken that the refusal would be referred to in court and could imply his guilt in the matter. This is because the taking of the sample allows the opportunity to eliminate his involvement.

I briefed a police officer to take the sample. Although I intended to be present, I would not be allowed to help with the act of sampling because of the risk of an accusation of assault. If it came to an out and out fight, I would advise the officers that the sampling should be stopped as ‘bad science’ and I would make my notes and update the custody record accordingly.

The superintendent handled the matter perfectly. He went into the suspect’s cell with the custody officer, closely followed by six burly officers. I waited at the door. The superintendent advised the suspect of his rights and that he had authorised the taking of the sample by force if necessary. He explained that this was allowed within the Police and Criminal Evidence Act. He then gave the suspect a blunt choice. Pointing to the six officers he said, ‘You can choose. Either these six officers will take the sample or,’ and then pointing to me at the rear, ‘this short bald civilian gentleman shall. It’s your choice.’ The suspect glanced along the row of burly policemen and then looked at me. Without a word, and probably fearing a beating, he raised his finger and pointed it to me.

I then quickly set about my task. Opening a hair-combing kit, I quickly put on a pair of gloves and I unfolded a sheet of white paper from within. In one hand, I held the sheet under the man’s head, asking him to nod forward, and with the other hand I drew the comb (containing a moistened lint pad in its teeth) through the man’s hair. Backwards and forwards for a few minutes, I combed his hair over the paper. I finished by putting the seeded comb into the sheet and folding the paper around it. I placed it inside an exhibit bag and sealed and labelled it immediately. It was done. There was no struggle. But all the officers stayed just the same.

The suspect was to later refuse any further examination. We would have liked blood, saliva, urine and head-hair samples but that was not to be.

I held back the examination of the cash, but arranged for the knife to be examined for finger marks at the laboratory. They had a greater range of techniques which I did not have in the field. I also held back on linking the clothing found in the wood to the shorts and T-shirt the suspect was wearing when he was arrested. Finding the stolen money with the knife and woolly hat had associated that find with the robbery scene. I wanted to link the suspect to the woolly hat and by association with the robbery.

So my first and what turned out to be my main submission of material to the lab was simply the woolly mask and the hair combing.

A few weeks later I got a call from the laboratory. The hair-combing sample contained eleven dark fibres, each of which matched and were indistinguishable from those found in the woolly mask.

The subsequent trial lasted less than two days. The hair sampling played a major part in the evidence and at the end of the trial the suspect was found guilty and sentenced to eleven years in prison. I gave my evidence without event. It was accepted. The prosecution counsel remarked to me afterwards that eleven fibres had been found in the offender’s hair, and he had received eleven years. ‘What would have happened if you had recovered more?’ he wondered.

Clarkie emerged from the mist; he was dressed head to foot in blue and wore a bullet-proof vest. The baseball cap with the chequered band on his head indicated that he was one of the boys in blue. Radios and other gadgets were pinned to him just as anyone watching a good police drama would expect.

He was in his element. It was the result of at least a year’s hard work by the detectives at the Barnes branch office of the Flying Squad. Allan Clarke was their SOCO, a hard-working and totally effective professional, who I was pleased and honoured to be associated with.

The Barnes Flying Squad office was the smallest and least busy of the four branch offices. Its patch of south-west London had its fair share of robberies and armed robbers, but it lacked the gritty volume of east London where I was based. The Barnes team was ribbed by some of the other offices because it was so much quieter than some of its neighbours. But the officers there were just as professional and dedicated and effective in their work. Clarkie personified that.

The arrest which heralded my arrival outside the scene cordon was the culmination of investigation and surveillance under the codename Operation Young.

Not that the gestation period had gone unnoticed by the other offices, which regularly arrested ‘on the pavement’ many armed robbers in a similar period. One office had sent a birthday card to Barnes, another an MOT certificate (required by a car at three years of age) to draw attention to the length of their endeavours.

And ‘on the pavement’ was the classic way to do it. It clearly describes the arrest of the suspect as they approach their victim, the bank, building society or security guard transferring a bag of cash to one of these premises. It is the classic arrest of ‘conspiracy to rob’ and still the hardest to prove. Without the luxury of arresting suspects immediately after they have committed an offence, Flying Squad officers would arrest them going in, and so the intent of the suspect had to be proved. Its benefits were obvious, bank employees and members of the public were not put at risk. The downside is that the suspect would put try to put forward a defence which would negate the fifteen years of imprisonment they could expect for armed robbery, and present some other explanation, even if they were masked and carrying a gun. The arrest on the pavement was inherently dangerous for the Squad officers, many of whom were not armed. Yes, there were armed officers present, but not all the officers were routinely armed. Their bravery was only matched by what to onlookers would appear as stupidity. But brave they were. That bravery was not without a very professional purpose. It is very dangerous for an armed police officer to have direct physical contact with someone they are trying to arrest. Apart from the danger of a weapon being discharged at close quarters, the suspect may try to disarm the arresting officer, making the situation even more dangerous. From a scientific evidence point of view it is very unhelpful if the arresting officer is armed as they could contaminate the suspect with residues if they have fired shots or are contaminated with firearms discharge residues (FDRs). So it is normal for armed officers to control the arrest whilst unarmed officers lay hands on the suspect to effect an arrest.

Tonight the alleged robbers had been caught. It was alleged that, during the arrest, the suspect had fired shots at the arresting officers.

As Clarkie briefed me and my two Flying Squad SOCO colleagues who had raced from the three corners of London to help Barnes in its hour of need, a priority emerged to examine the detained suspect who had allegedly fired the shots for FDRs. FDRs are the small particles which emerge from the chamber of a weapon when it is fired and form a cloud. They fall on the back of the hand and sometimes on the face if a weapon is held closer for firing. They are delicate and fall off the hands and face within a few hours. They can remain a little longer in facial or head hair and longer in pockets of clothing. The residues are specific to firearms discharge as they contain three elements, which in combination are only found in the percussion cap of ammunition and in the residues from their discharge. I volunteered to go to the police station where the suspect in question was being held.

When I arrived at the police station the suspect was still being booked into the custody area. He was still clothed, which was good because I wanted to examine him for residues before his clothing was removed. This was to ensure that there was no disturbance of any material which was directly on his exposed skin areas.

Once again I considered PACE. Under the Act, the swabbing of exposed external areas of a suspect could be undertaken with the consent of a suspect and with the authority of a police inspector, where it was believed that evidence could be found to prove or disprove the involvement in a criminal offence. As explained before, in a serious case, such as this, even if the suspect refused or did not consent in writing, the external samples could still be taken with the authority of a superintendent.

To say that the suspect was happy for me to take the samples may be stretching the view. Anyone arrested in an offence such as conspiracy to rob and discharging a firearm at arresting officers is unlikely to be at their best. With the appropriate authorities, and in the absence of any force being needed, I could undertake the examination, which I did. Had it come to a struggle, though, I would have to advise that the swabbing was unpractical in such a situation. This is because any force used could not be controlled and there would be a risk of poor and possibly contaminated sampling and, of course, injury. Again, as I’ve said before, in that case my notes and the custody record would show the refusal. This in itself could be presented in evidence and a prosecution lawyer use a clause in the Act to suggests that a refusal hid the complicity of the suspect. The examination had the ability to disprove as well as prove involvement.