Crime Scene Investigator (5 page)

Interrupting the officer, I called him outside on the pretext of a question. With very few words and shielding my actions from the victim inside the flat, I offered up the bottle to the letter box. I also drew his attention to the spice rack in the kitchen, for his return. Without a word, he turned and walked purposefully back into the kitchen. His attitude had changed. He remained professional, but he now knew he was no longer dealing with an external attack of racial origin. The door had not been opened during the fire and therefore the agent had to come from within. His caring demeanour gave way to a more direct voice and line of questioning.

I continued and completed a full examination and notes. I may have had to fully account for my examination and findings later. The items would be preserved but not sent to the laboratory at the moment. This took time, but it had to be done. I couldn’t see the situation changing, but by that time in my career I had already realised you can’t predict the future. At least I could demonstrate my professional and thorough approach to the situation should I be asked in the future.

The officer continued to speak carefully to the lady occupant. He remained courteous, but was now a little more direct. When confronted with the fact that the jar would not fit through the letter box and its obvious implications, she broke down into a flood of tears. It transpired that she was seeking to be re-housed and thought the allegation of racial threats against her would speed up the process. She was a good woman, just a little desperate and misguided. What was a relief to the detective and me was that we, on this occasion were not dealing with a life-threatening racial attack with all its implications.

It was strange because, looking at the spice jar and the letter box, everyone, me included for a short while, assumed that it would pass through. Reconstruction of the events of a crime is an intrinsic part of the crime scene investigation. It is important to recognise, question and test assumptions.

Having completed my work I drove to Stoke Newington Police Station to update the crime report, a report which was soon to be reclassified as a ‘No Crime’. I’m sure the detective considered a charge of wasting police time against the lady, but even in circumstances such as this they are rarely pursued. It doesn’t do any good; the lady had learnt her lesson and probably felt rather silly. It’s strange, as I thought the flats were one of the better developments in the area. But I didn’t live there.

I then drove the two miles or so in lighter traffic back to City Road. I think I even managed a pint in the Eagle before going home.

It was in burglary and stolen car investigations that I cut my teeth. Although there was a high volume, I never got bored even if I visited the same premises on subsequent occasions to investigate other crimes. This was because no two crimes, even at the same premises, are the same. Details change, the point of entry and exit, what the offender did and what they took. Previous investigations form a basis of intelligence which the investigator retains in memory or more accurately in their notes.

Science and police investigations share common values so when they come together in crime scene investigation the benefits quickly follow.

At the very beginning of any investigation there is a need to talk: to the police officer who is reporting the crime, to the victim and other witnesses, all who will have a story. Even if they were not present at the time of the crime (as is often the case with burglary or vehicle theft) they will tell you what they found. The broken window, the muddy footprints (shoe marks, I would correct them), the rifled drawers and broken jewellery boxes. This helps formulate a picture of the route of the offender and timeline of the offence. Often, if the scene allows it, a cup of tea and a chat with the victim helps. It is a chance to calm down all the emotion and distress. This helps show concern and also allows the investigator to plan and review the examination they will undertake.

So, imagine a small single-storey bungalow sitting on a quiet road. A white picket fence breaks in the middle and through a gate a path leads to a front door. On either side are bay windows. Flowerbeds skirt the brickwork.

The female occupant had come home from shopping to find she could not open the front door. Her keys worked but the bolts on the inside of the door appeared to have been secured. Looking through a front window she could see the lounge had been ransacked and the television, which occupied a prominent position was missing. Frightened, she went next door to a neighbour who called the police.

The officers quickly attended and checked the premises. Going to the rear of the premises they found a broken pane of glass in the kitchen door. The door was open. Entering, they found that the offender or offenders had long gone, but not before turning furniture over. They had also bolted the front door from the inside, possibly to prevent being caught if the owner returned.

Comforting the female occupant, they ask her to accompany them through the scene, avoiding the broken glass. ‘What has been stolen?’ they ask. If she tries to pick anything up they express caution in case of fingerprints or DNA. A TV and a camera along with the contents of her jewellery box have been stolen. Then the tears come, at the realisation that a ring, or other item, a gift from a long-dead close relative, is missing. We don’t just grieve for people. We grieve about items and the memories which they hold. Being the victim of a crime is a horrible thing.

The description of the scene I have given may not reflect that of gritty inner city crime but the circumstances are the same whether you live in a country cottage or a high-rise flat. There is a scene, a story and a victim.

My job was to find the person or people who committed the offence. The best place to start is at the beginning. This is true of all investigations and not limited to the scene. I would listen to the allegation and talk to victims or witnesses to the events leading up to the crime, the commission of the crime itself and its aftermath. It helped me define the boundaries of the scene and identify the number of scenes. It prompted me to ask questions which I would methodically address. It helped me prioritise the scenes and issues within them so that the urgent ones, those which would change if I did not deal with them first, would become apparent.

The range of issues which would confront me could be large and varied. Even attending the scene of a simple burglary, I would use the same process, considering the type of premises, the boundaries within which to look for signs of criminal activity. The witnesses or victim would always give an indication of what they found, a damaged window, an open door, scattered belongings, missing items.

I would start by trying to confirm or identify the point of entry, then the offender’s route through the scene, by the damage or disturbance they had made, and finally where they left the scene. I would not normally wear the white protective suits to prevent contamination, simply because fibres and the other types of evidence which they are there to protect are not normally an issue in these types of scenes. However, I could not forget the issue of contamination. As I walked around the scene with the witness, I looked, observed and reviewed potential areas of evidence, avoiding touching areas which I would need to examine. I would address them in a methodical manner once the initial scene evaluation had been completed.

This would help me identify, for example, a newly washed kitchen floor, to all intents and purposes spotless, but potentially hiding the latent footwear impressions of the offender. I would issue a gentle restraint to prevent the witness stepping too close until I had fully searched it.

The victim would often notice something unusual which would require greater thought, so it’s important to listen even to the little asides. On one occasion I heard a cleaner at an office premises say that her washing-up gloves were missing. This prompted me to think that perhaps the offender had not been wearing gloves when they entered and there was a distinct chance of finding their fingerprints, if I looked in the right places. On searching the scene I found a discarded pair of rubber gloves with a torn finger, they didn’t belong to anyone at the scene and so seemed to have been left or, more accurately, swapped by the offender. What I did next was a leap of thought. I sent the torn gloves to the fingerprint lab, asking them to try and develop marks on the inside soft fleece surface. The methods which I had available at the scene were not sufficient to achieve this. The lab developed a full set of ten finger marks using gentian violet staining and the offender was identified by an expert fingerprint officer who searched them. It caused a bit of a stir as no one seemed to recall whether this had ever been successful before, although I’m sure it must have been. Perhaps it was just rare.

Following my initial evaluation of the scene, and before I undertook a methodical search, I would have to deal with any priorities. This would include any items which would decay or deteriorate due to inclement weather or other factors if I did not immediately address them. This was also a matter of time management. Casts of marks which may take some time to dry would need to be made early so I wasn’t hanging around for them to dry at the end of my examination. To allow me to get on with my job I would encourage the often distressed victim to occupy themselves. ‘How about putting the kettle on?’ I would suggest. This took their mind off things and gave them something practical to do. By the time my examination was finished the tea would probably be cold, but drinking it often allowed me to gather my thoughts and make my notes before I left. It got to the stage where I would burn my mouth whenever I drank hot tea. One old pro of a detective, investigating a burglary in a ‘well-to-do’ premises, when offered a cup of tea remarked that he ‘didn’t drink tea’. Within a minute he was offered whisky in a cut crystal glass. Then offered a cigarette, he stated he ‘didn’t smoke cigarettes’. Within another moment he was standing there with a glass of whisky and a fine cigar. As my tea got cold, I looked on in wonder at his use of words.

Having dealt with the priorities, I could then make a careful search of the whole scene. Observation is the watch word and a strong lamp a reliable companion.

The first search is usually one which doesn’t potentially destroy any forms of evidence. These are the non-destructive techniques which don’t swamp further techniques. I would ensure no brushing or the use of powders for developing latent finger or shoe marks for the moment. This would wipe away or cover other delicate items. I would carefully observe, recognise, record and recover fibres, blood or visible fingermarks. Only once this was completed would I examine items with a fine brush and fingerprint powder. This would reveal the latent marks of fingers or shoes.

Fingermarks can be left in deposits of salt, amino acids and other body secretions and also in contaminants picked up by the hands or on the item on which the finger mark is found. Sometimes they are visible and can be recovered by photography or removing the item. On glossy surfaces, such as paint or glass, even the invisible can be revealed. By gently brushing with a fine powder such as aluminium or carbon, the powder adheres to the secretion deposit or contaminant and reveals the detail of the fingerprint of the donor.

Shoe marks can be found in any contaminant, from house dust to dried rain water or blood. If they are visible they too can be photographed or lifted. The invisible may be revealed by an oblique light, the dust giving a true impression of the donor shoe pattern. Once visible they can be photographed or lifted using static electricity or soft gel.

As the scene was searched and items recorded or recovered, my notes would be updated. My contemporaneous notes were a record of what I had observed and the exact measurements of what I had found. My notes would, wherever possible, be accompanied by plans and diagrams. These would be of the whole scene, areas within it or of just individual items. Any photographs would be referred to in the notes to indicate when and where they were taken, and any particular item or area of interest which I wished to highlight would also be noted. I felt strongly that photographs should always be accompanied by notes and diagrams, because without them they meant nothing.

As I recorded and recovered items I would carefully preserve and package them so that the evidence which they potentially contained would not be destroyed or contaminated and compromised before it was examined at the laboratory.

My final action at the scene before leaving would be to review. This would be one final check to see that it all made sense to me or would do so once we got some answers back from the lab. Only when I had searched the entire scene and recorded and recovered all the evidence I had found would I consider the scene examination complete. But the investigation was not. That would only just be beginning.

The end of the scene examination would always raise potential questions in my mind, about where I might find the answers.

I would need to decide what would happen next, perhaps a search of finger or shoe marks against a database or the development of marks by chemical or other methods.