Crime Scene Investigator (22 page)

The court process is a trial and an examination of evidence. Although employed by the police, it was my duty as a professional to remain impartial and only seek the truth (although giving evidence is a test for the witness too). It is important that evidence is tested so that inaccurate or incomplete evidence is not accepted as fact by the court. I welcomed a rigorous defence examination. Later in my time on the Flying Squad when a trial date was approaching and no defence examination of the exhibits had been requested, I would prompt the officer in the case to call the defence and remind them. It usually saved a lot of running around during the trial and, I felt, served the judicial process better. Later in my career I would observe that where miscarriages of justice occurred, the defence had not been vigorous, they had not tested the evidence and had not asked the questions which they should have. So although cross-examination may be stressful it is important for a witness’s evidence to be thoroughly tested.

Preparation for me involved ensuring I was familiar with my original notes, any submissions I had made to the laboratory and my statements. In giving evidence I would be allowed to refer to my notes but not my statement, once I had asked the presiding judge for permission to do so. I would be asked by the judge when the notes were made. My reply would be ‘at the time of my examination’ as this was always so. What was less pleasant was the questioning of my qualification to give evidence, and my impartiality and allegations of blind loyalty to my police colleagues rather than the truth. Loyalty to the court and to the truth is a little harder to demonstrate.

As a witness most often called by the prosecution it would be the prosecution barrister who would be the first to question me in court. In this way the evidence in chief which counsel would wish to draw out, is given. Then the defence barrister for each defendant (and there could be many) had a chance in turn to cross-examine me. That could be a gruelling experience. Even if my evidence only concerned one defendant, the other defendant’s counsel would use the opportunity to explore the evidence, or lack of it, relating to their client.

On one occasion I was called over to the Finchley Flying Squad office. Their surveillance team had been keeping tabs on a couple of men who they thought were about to commit an armed robbery. Much to their dismay they lost them after they left their flat, only to find out that a bank had been robbed. All they could do was listen to the robbery as it unfolded on the police radio. But the men returned to their flat. They weren’t carrying anything, but the officers were convinced they were involved. A decision was made to enter the flat, arrest them and search for evidence.

By the time I arrived at the office my colleague was dealing with the scene. When the men were arrested, one had just had a shower and was drying himself off and the other was literally getting out of the shower.

The getaway car, the stolen money, masks and guns had yet to be found. But I thought that they may be found together, even at a much later date, depending on where they were hidden. So I suggested that we should get an immediate hair-combing sample from the men in the hope that, if they were responsible, the fibres in the combing would match the masks. This would be great evidence of association if in fact the masks and other items were found in the car.

The fact that both men had showered did not deter me in suggesting the sampling because there had been some published research in the
Journal of the Forensic Science Society
suggesting that fibres could persist in head hair for days and even after washing.

I went immediately to the police station where the men were being held. A police surgeon was called to take blood samples for grouping and alcohol and drugs examination, pretty standard but not as critical in my mind as the hair combing. In any event the suspects refused to give the blood samples at that time, as was their right, but they agreed to give hair samples, possibly because they knew they could be taken by force if necessary. I used the opportunity to ask the police surgeon to take the hair combing from one suspect whilst I did the other. This would prevent any possibility of contamination and was good practice. He had not taken a hair combing before, so I briefed him and showed him how to take the sample. I had asked for, and got, the authority from a senior police officer to take the samples. The police surgeon seemed pretty happy. So I set about examining my man. I took my time. Overlooked by a detective, I opened the hair combing kits and put on a pair of gloves. I spread out a sheet of paper and then got the suspect to stand over the sheet whilst I combed his hair backwards and forwards with the seeded comb. I placed the comb in the sheet before folding it over to retain all the collected debris. Placing it in a bag and sealing it, I completed my notes. A pretty simple procedure, undertaken with integrity and discipline, I knew it could be a critical piece of evidence. I checked on the doctor’s progress with the other suspect. He had already left and the detective who had been with him showed me the exhibit he had taken. I wasn’t too impressed with the condition of the item; I could see it through the plastic bag. The detective’s words worried me. Apparently the doctor hadn’t taken too kindly to being briefed by a civilian scenes of crime officer, even an informed one. He had taken the combing with one sweep of the hair and some muttered comments before handing the sealed item to the detective and leaving. I suppose I should have been grateful for the fact that he had sealed the item.

I felt there was little I could do. We had had our chance and I would have to await the laboratory examination. With that in mind I arranged for the combings to go straight to the lab. I wanted them out of our possession and in the possession of the lab to prevent any allegations of deliberate contamination or planting of evidence. The lab had to be persuaded to take the items as it was a new case and there were no items to compare them with. I was getting wise to allegations of planting and thought this an ideal opportunity to bury that one in this case, as the masks, stolen money, weapons and getaway car had yet to be found. The lab understood my somewhat unusual submission and accepted the items later the same day.

Sure enough, the getaway vehicle was found, along with the masks and some remnants of the stolen money. A footwear mark was found at the bank where the robbery had occurred and that was compared with shoes found at the suspects’ address. However, it was the hair combing which was to be critical to the case.

When the scientist examined the hair combing I had taken they found a large number of fibres which matched one of the masks. Examination of the combing taken by the doctor from the second suspect showed no fibres found. I was disappointed but this had seemed inevitable given the observation of the detective who witnessed the sample being taken.

Nevertheless my evidence would connect the mask and other items with the suspects who were arrested together after they returned to their flat.

I expected there to be a fight at court, but I didn’t expect what actually turned out. My evidence in chief went pretty well. After all, it was a pretty simple operation. I described how I took the sample. Then came the allegation. It was that I had planted the evidence and was part of a Flying Squad conspiracy to frame two innocent men. It was suggested that I had not properly sealed the item or switched bags so that evidence could be planted by me or my Flying Squad colleagues. Meanwhile, the sample taken properly from the other suspect, by the ‘good doctor’ was negative, implying I was lying and both men were innocent. The doctor was qualified and a pillar of the professional medical community; I had no such protection. The final nail in the coffin of my integrity or credibility as a witness was voiced with damning style. ‘Mr Millen, you are employed by the Metropolitan Police, you are paid by them, you work closely with these detectives, you probably have a beer with them from time to time.’ I mentally nodded. ‘You will say exactly what they tell you to say.’ I was done for and so was the case. The evidence linking the men (together by association) with the masks and stolen goods was strong, but that did not matter. I’m not sure how the other evidence went but the suspects were acquitted. The allegations made against me, although untrue, nevertheless damaged the integrity of the case.

It was a bruising experience, and I realised more than ever that I needed a professional shield, one by which I could demonstrate my integrity and professionalism.

I had been a member of the Forensic Science Society for a few years. The Society was at that time a learned body whose aim was to promote the application of forensic science. Its membership was made up of scientists, academics, medics, lawyers, police and crime scene personnel. It held three scientific conferences each year and I for one had benefited immensely from the interaction with other professionals at such meetings. Not only were the presentations stimulating and informative, but the interaction over dinner and in the bar provided me with a great intellectual resource and a network of professional contacts I hold to this day.

The crime scene had been seen by many scientist and laboratory directors as purely a ‘technician’ exercise; the important and sexy stuff was all done in the lab. That attitude started to change in the 1980s. As forensic science developed so did the crime scene examination part. It was quickly realised by many who had not seen it before that if the scene is dealt with badly there is little the scientist can do to resurrect the case. The presence of many crime scene people at the Society’s meetings encouraged the development, exactly as the aims of the Society wished.

The Society had realised that many practitioners came from the classical scientific areas of biology and chemistry, but there were no vocational qualifications in specialised areas of forensic science. Dr Ray Williams was the President of the Society in the mid 1980s. He had retired as the Director of the Metropolitan Police Forensic Science Laboratory. He was one of the ‘good and great’ of the civil service and forensic science world. He had not been an ardent supporter of the crime scene case whilst director, but I felt that during his presidency he realised its importance and became one of its greatest champions. Having stepped down as president after a two-year term, Dr Williams stayed on the council as Chair of the Professional Awards Committee. He was going to implement a series of professional awards in the forensic science areas of documents and of fire investigation where there were no formal qualifications. Alongside Dr Williams on the committee was Dr Brian Caddy, who acted as secretary. In the years to come Brian was to see this process through and be elected to the presidency of the Society itself. Brian was an academic and senior lecturer in Forensic Science at the University of Strathclyde, rising to professor before his retirement at the beginning of the new century.

One morning in 1988 whilst on the Flying Squad, I got a call from my boss, Mark Godfree, who had called in at the neighbouring Leyton Police Station. There was a letter for me there which had been improperly addressed. I asked him to open the letter and read the contents to me. The contents made me dash to the car and drive to read the letter in person.

It seemed that I must have had a conversation with someone at a Society meeting about the need for a professional qualification in crime scene. There was reference to previous letters, which I had not received. The upshot was that the Society intended to set up a diploma in crime scene examination and I was invited to join the committee. Then came the shock. The first meeting of the committee was going to be held that very day at two pm at the Home Office Forensic Science Laboratory in Birmingham. It was already ten am. I didn’t hesitate. I could not miss the opportunity and I wanted to be there at the very beginning. I spoke to my boss. I’m not sure if it was a request or a statement, but within a few minutes I was on my way to Birmingham. I arrived with just fifteen minute to spare.

The Birmingham laboratory was hidden away in an industrial area of the inner city. From outside you would have no idea what went on behind the grey 1950s building. Parking was a nightmare and the amount of broken windscreen glass on the streets indicated that crime went right up to the doorway.

I entered the building to a different world. I was expected and was shown to the meeting room on the first floor. The others were already present. I immediately recognised Bob Wayment, a SOCO 1 from the Met who I quickly realised had put my name forward. Dr Williams was there and Dr Caddy and I addressed them formally. I remember being in awe of them and it took many months before I could call either by their first names. Eddy Marchant, a chief superintendent from Durham Constabulary, was there with Chris Jordison, an inspector at the Scientific Aids School at Durham. Durham Constabulary had a long history of support for the Society.

The meeting was very fruitful and we quickly set about defining the need and establishing a process for recognising professional standards in crime scene. Bob Wayment was appointed the Secretary to the Crime Scene Examination Diploma Committee, as it was then known. Within the year Bob decided to join the police force proper so I jumped at the chance and took over. My enthusiasm for the project was obvious and with the encouragement of Drs Williams and Caddy and support of the others I knew this was going to work. In the months that followed there was one change which I insisted upon. It was a change in name for the diploma. Crime Scene Examination wasn’t good enough and didn’t reflect the integration within the investigative process which was emerging. The science which I was practising and which I believed had a greater need and benefit went beyond pure examination. It reflected the review and analysis of the answers which the science gave within the overall investigation. There was a gap, or at least the danger of one, between the police detective and the forensic scientist. I considered that this may have been organisational, an outcome of the environment in which I worked, but the more I looked the more I realised that this was not just about job roles, this was about investigation practice. I put a case for the diploma to be in Crime Scene Investigation. It was a little-known and unused term at that time. That was to change in the following years, as our imagination and that of the general public, fuelled by television, was to engage.