Crime Scene Investigator (36 page)

It was the sort of fun Ron Woodland was expecting and I could see him grinning in the public area. But in any event it wasn’t to be. The coroner, Michael Gwynne, wasn’t going to allow any such criticism of my right to express my view. He intervened and stopped Thwaites in his tracks. The coroner had already heard my evidence in chief and found what I had said made perfect sense. It had. It was good practice.

In the interest of truth, the coroner asked for Tristram and me to confer outside the court and agree common ground.

We met outside the court and went with a coroner’s officer and representatives of counsel into a side room. I was firm and was not prepared to concede on the matter. When I visited the scene, it was still worthy of examination. This had been strengthened by the fact that the police subsequently removed the door. The fact that they had found nothing, no finger marks at all (not even Jimmy Ross’s) I accepted, albeit with a little disappointment. Tristram had to agree that the finding of marks after such a time could not be excluded until they had looked.

Our agreement was fed back via counsel to the coroner and I was not required to give any further testimony.

At the end of my evidence I was approached by members of the McGowan family, including Errol’s younger brother, who thanked me. They had just wanted someone to look and they had got that.

The inquest concluded that Errol had received racial abuse but his death was suicide. It was a painful pill for the family to swallow. Errol’s mother would never accept it and the delay had only worsened that view. Justice delayed was justice denied as far as she was concerned.

In his closing remarks at the inquest, the coroner commended my views, recommending to the police that they should ‘give some detailed thought to the views of Mr Millen, which seemed eminently sensible to me’. That was the last I heard of the case. So what, many might think. The path of justice had prevailed, the outcome could not be judged until all the matters known were explored to their natural conclusion.

The greater tragedy was that at a time of deep grief, a family had to fight to get their concerns investigated. All they had wanted was for someone to look.

I would like to believe that if the allegation of Errol’s racial murder (as the allegation from the family was) had happened in Mozambique and his body returned to the UK, as Andrew’s and Caroline’s had, the coroner and the police would have launched a proper investigation. That is based on the hope that the coroner and senior investigators would see their responsibility, as I’m in no doubt they would.

Both families expected, indeed demanded, that the death of their loved ones be investigated, that someone looked and that someone cared. They wanted justice. However, justice delayed, in the face of answerable questions, is often justice denied.

Glancing down, I saw the student adjust a piece of paper under his seat. I had caught a student police officer cheating in an examination. The response perhaps should have been automatic dismissal. My response was immediate, but a little wisdom was needed. This was Jamaica and I had been running a crime scene investigation course for the Jamaican Constabulary Force. Funded by the UK Department for International Development, it was part of the international commitment to bring the island’s police up to date.

The competition amongst the students on the course was immense. They relished the new skills which they were being taught and they were all highly motivated. I was committed to help them develop and this mid-term test was to see how both they and I were doing. So I was a little upset that this fine student had not heeded my words of encouragement. I wanted to know what they had taken in. What surprised me further was that the student in question was one who I knew was committed. He had ensured that he sat in the very front for the test. I could not fail to recognise his nervous glances down to the piece of paper under his seat. Cheating is something that cannot and must not be tolerated in a police officer. In the police work environment there is no greater sin than dishonesty. I had to consider how they would learn, and how to respond to the needs of a developing nation. Should I cut away and make an example? This environment and situation was new territory for me. Cutting away is OK, but how much do you need to cut before you have firm ground on which to build, will there be anything left and what happens to the rejected? Do they go somewhere else, not treated, to fester and cause more problems for society later? Is it not better to treat and heal the problem? That is OK provided no one else gets hurt in the meantime. Evolution not revolution was the stance I took. I knew that the student in question was a good one. He was a sound and active participant in the class work. So I decided to remove the offending piece of paper and let him continue. After the test, having marked the paper, which he comfortably passed anyway, I decided to give him the biggest dressing down I could. He took my harsh words, but he shuddered with guilt and embarrassment as he realised exactly what I felt of his conduct. I had already considered the fact that all the students carried their service issue side arms at all times. During the dressing down I particularly noticed that on the side of his belt he wore an automatic pistol. I was in full flow by then and it was too late to change my tack. Had he been offended or angered by my words he could have reacted differently. Perhaps by then he realised I was not going to take the matter further. I left him in no doubt about his responsibilities and the position of trust which he held. Although my words to him were in private, the rest of the class knew what had gone on. I used the episode as an example of trust, honesty and growth, which seemed to benefit the whole class. The future of their own community and how it was policed was in their hands. He went on to be a sound student and there were no signs of any repetition, by him or any of his classmates, in the final tests. I hope our conversation worked.

The backdrop to the course was the increasing illegal drugs trade, itself being felt back in the UK, and social unrest, mainly in Kingston, the capital. The country had an extremely high murder rate in the community, something that did not affect the tourists who visited the island beauty spots and who never got to hear about it. The first weekend I was there, there were riots in parts of the capital. Many were killed, including at least one police officer. It resulted in a curfew and the bodies of many of the dead were left lying in the streets overnight, as it was too dangerous to recover them. I was given a police escort, sandwiched between two police cars in my hired white jeep, from the training centre back to my hotel. It was during this that I realised that my guard and I were the sole occupants of this middle vehicle, but by then it was too late. We drove a long route, avoiding the main hot spots but we still drove through barricades. I stuck to the lead vehicle like glue but lost the vehicle behind me before I entered my hotel’s gates safely. It was a difficult few days and crystallised the training needs of the students and the environment in which they would be working.

It also crystallised for me the need for joined-up aid. Crime scene training was, rightly, an important part of the development of the island’s police, but it had to be seen in the context of wider planning. Crime scene investigation, and training in it, does not sit on its own. It is part of a much wider programme of development which includes detective training, pathology, forensic science support and the legal and social environment in which it operates. These all needed serious consideration and support in Jamaica. There was home-grown talent, particularly at the government’s Forensic Science Laboratory, headed by its director, Yvonne Cruickshank. She and her staff were making progress in delivering and developing sound forensic science with limited funds and high caseloads.

In contrast, by the end of the course, I managed to take a trip around this beautiful island, leaving the problems in the main behind in Kingston. The reconstruction work undertaken since then has made a marked improvement in the situation.

The need for crime scene training is usually identified by a senior police officer, often a retired chief officer who undertakes a review of the customer in question. Training is often the first offer of aid from governments such as the UK. Training does not exist in isolation. It fills the gap between where the students are at the beginning of the process and where they are at the end. Training in an area devoid of organisational development is like building on sand. It is common to be asked to design and deliver crime scene training without any help in establishing the exact need and context of the work environment. It is rare for a training needs analysis to be undertaken in a foreign country by someone who will design the course, as this costs additional money. Where it is done, the course is much better suited to the needs of the customer and the students. So although a course can be designed with limited information, there is often a need to focus on the students’ needs on the ground once more research has been done. The course programme may not seem to change much – that would probably alarm the customer – but the content and how it is delivered might. Not to review and make changes would be neglecting the needs of the students.

The main issue for me in delivering a three-week crime scene investigation course was not what to put in but what to leave out. As always, it is a matter of context and meeting the needs and expectations of the students and their managers. The students often had detective experience but were new to crime scene investigation. Three weeks is a very short time and so the focus was on forensic and fingerprint evidence types, methods of crime scene search and recovery, preservation and note-taking. Photography, although requested, was not possible for two reasons: lack of time and also the lack of likely availability. For me, note-taking took a higher priority. In running the course I worked with Suzanne Chapman, an extremely competent crime scene investigator and a top-class trainer. Suzanne was on a career break from her police force back in the UK and we made a good team.

The head of the crime scene unit in Kingston was Mackenzie, an inspector and veteran of the force for almost forty years. He had studied at the National Training Centre back at Durham in the UK. At first he appeared a little suspicious of me. I was careful not to come across as a ‘know all’ from the UK (which he might have suspected and indeed I may have seemed to be) and tried to give him the respect he deserved. That respect was easy and he did deserve it. Any misgiving he had or I felt quickly evaporated and he complemented the course with his visits and participation. Part of my brief was to arrange for the supply of a number of crime scene kits. These had to be robust and meet the investigative needs of the users. A number of kits previously donated or bought were located at the main headquarters building in Kingston. They were rare and highly prized and were used by only a select few. This was understandable, given the lack of funding and resources. So I hoped that the kits we were supplying would have a good impact in the stations around the rest of the country.

The course was held at the police training centre some ten miles outside Kingston. The establishment had a colonial feel to it and could have benefited from a lick of paint. It was a good environment in which to learn and to teach. Outbuildings provided a good source of scene houses for practical exercises and examinations, of which there would be many. The students would be expected to work in teams and individually, both good attributes for crime scene investigators.

The course went well and a lot of ground was covered in the relatively short period of time. The lessons on evidence types, search, evaluation, intelligence and notes and diagrams built up to final written and practical examinations with all the key components. The very planning of the course followed my model of listening, reviewing, planning, acting and once again reviewing, and Suzanne and I were flexible enough for this. Visits to the crime scene department and the forensic science laboratory found committed individuals doing their absolute best with limited resources and high caseloads. It was no good just trying to plant UK CSI techniques into their environment. One simple example was that of glass evidence. This is a significant and common source of evidence in the UK. But in Jamaica there is much more wooden-slatted ventilation than glass in the vast majority of premises. The basis principles remain the same, though, and that is what we taught.

There was a rather grand closing ceremony for the course, attended by senior chief officers, at which many fine words were said and the students presented with their course certificates. I felt that the course was a success, particularly as the students could apply what they had been taught in their work environment with the few resources they had.

Within a year I was to receive another call, this time from the British Council Anti-Corruption Programme in Uganda. The setting for the course was at the Hotel Triangle on the shores of Lake Victoria, only two hundred metres from the source of the Nile. It was a magnificent setting for a memorable course. I managed to persuade the British Council that two trainers were needed and, having gained their agreement, I called on Suzanne to once again work with me.