by Paul Millen
The Metropolitan Police Forensic Science Laboratory opened in 1935 at Scotland Yard and marked the beginning of a planned use of forensic science in criminal investigation in the UK. Home Office laboratories followed to serve provincial forces. By 1959 a new profession of forensic science was establishing itself, prompting like-minded individuals to form the Forensic Science Society. Its aims were to ‘advance the study, application and standing of forensic science and to facilitate cooperation among persons interested in forensic science throughout the world’. It has been doing that pretty effectively ever since.
The specialised examination of the crime scene is an even more recent event. Until the 1950s in the UK and North America, the examination of the scene was the domain of the detective. Only rarely, in numbers which could be counted on one hand, would forensic scientists themselves examine a crime scene and then for a single purpose, most commonly for something like blood splashing. Pathologists had for many years examined the scene of sudden or suspicious death but their domain was that of forensic medicine and toxicology. It didn’t stop many of them from stepping into areas in which they had no training or experience. In the absence of dissent, their medical expertise in all matters forensic was accepted unopposed.
The regular and routine examination of crime scenes for fingerprints by specialists began with the Metropolitan Police in London with the introduction of civilian fingerprint officers in 1954. Up to that time it was the sole domain of detectives with varying degrees of interest and skill. In 1966 Humberside Police employed the first civilian scenes of crime officers, followed by the Metropolitan Police in 1969. Other police forces in the UK followed suit using a mixture of civilian and police personnel. The term scenes of crime officer or SOCO became synonymous with the role. Other police forces (such as Durham) used the term scientific aids, but soon came in line with the rest of the UK.
The role was seen as one of crime scene examination for a number of years, which belied its full impact within the investigation process. That was not good enough as far as I was concerned because it failed to recognise the integration of science within the whole investigation. Dave Werrett (a pioneer in the introduction of DNA technology into forensic science and who later become head of the UK Forensic Science Service) used the phrase which I always liked. He referred to the ‘continuum’. This aptly describes the seamless process from crime scene to court. Many players take part in the process but it should have one purpose and goal. To me it was always a matter of escalation, from the first patrol officer who attended the crime and realised there was something more than they could handle, to the detective and the specialist crime scene person, to the specialist scientist in a particular evidence type. Each adds his or her own knowledge, training and expertise to the problem until a definitive answer can be found. The crime scene investigator is in real terms a compromise. They are the eyes and ears of the expert scientist in every conceivable field. It isn’t possible or practical to regularly bring every expert to the scene to conduct their own examinations. This is not to say that experts never attend scenes and examine areas specific to their expertise. They do. They are called as part of the escalation process when the scene investigator establishes that the scene is beyond their own skills. As a crime scene investigator I needed to maintain a crust of knowledge of all the forensic science disciplines and be able to handle new ones. This I could do by holding to core principles whilst seeking advice from wherever I could get it. Compromise may be a harsh description of a scene investigator, but that is how the role started out. It understates the investigative role which has added immense value to criminal investigation and has developed now into the management of the scene investigation process.
The standard text Techniques of Crime Scene Investigation, first published in the 1950s, was a bible to me but even it did not demonstrate the application and dynamics of the investigative team and process. This comprehensive textbook fully explores the techniques I would use in crime scene examination, but did not explore the communication and interaction with others that I saw as true investigation. By 1989, when I led the development of the Forensic Science Society diploma, there was no doubt in my mind that we were testing scene investigators and not just scene examiners. So against some resistance (well quite a bit actually, as I will explain later), the Diploma in Crime Scene Investigation was born.
Forensic science is not just about fingerprints and blood, which are often seen as the easy options, giving the highest returns. Any contact trace or residue which can prove a crime has taken place or link an offender should be considered.
So the toolbox of the crime scene investigator is full of technologies and evidence types: paint, glass, shoe marks, tyre marks, bite marks, ear marks, blood, semen, saliva, urine, hairs, fibres, firearms residues, toxicology, poisons, ballistics, pollen, vegetation, fire accelerants, inks, latent marks and impressions, physical and mechanical fit, computers, light sources and many more.
All these technologies are worth nothing without much more important tools. Technologies continue to improve and changes in legislation necessitate finding new ways to enforce our laws and detect when they have been broken. However, the enquiring mind and the ability to listen and question are the most important qualities of an investigator. The answers to questions such as who, where, when and why remain unchanged. When these answers are sought, only then can the quest to methodically search, test, recover, record, review and evaluate evidence begin. The final question is to determine what it all means.
4. A Touch of Spice
The sound of wailing sirens pierced the hot and humid air coming through the office window. It was a balmy sunny evening and I was looking forward to clearing some paperwork. Late turn on G Division meant covering the three police stations in the London Borough of Hackney up until ten pm, after all my colleagues had gone home. Any thought of a quiet evening, perhaps examining a couple of burglary scenes and enjoying a quick pint next door at the Eagle before going home, disappeared when the phone rang.
It was a detective sergeant calling from the CID office at Stoke Newington. He was investigating an allegation of a racial attack on a West Indian woman. It appeared that someone had put a lighted petrol bomb through her door. He asked me to attend. It was serious so I had no hesitation.
I didn’t enjoy driving through the weave of traffic as London commuters made their way home. It was only a few miles after all, but it can seem like ten times that and it would probably have been quicker to walk. Stoke Newington was the biggest police station on the Metropolitan Police’s G Division. Its CID office boasted about thirty detectives, although only a handful were on duty at any one time. It was a hard place to work and tested every part of your professional existence. It had a very high crime rate and the range of crime tested every part of your training. All life was there. It was a grand area with tree-lined Victorian avenues which had seen many changes. Once the domain of the emerging middle classes, boasting the names of theatre land as its occupants, it had been swallowed up as London expanded and was now most definitely inner city. A large influx of immigrants from Europe and latterly the West Indies made it a racial melting pot. Hassidic Jews, the men in their black robes and brimmed hats covered in plastic to keep them dry, lived in grand houses in areas surrounded by postwar council flat developments.
The area had seen much redevelopment since the end of the Second World War. Although the blocks of pre-war flats with their concrete courtyards still existed, new blocks of large, imposing council flats on green estates were emerging, providing good accommodation with a more pleasing outlook. Even that was not enough to take away the tension of inner city life and the close proximity of neighbours.
I met the detective at the scene. By the time I arrived it was already after eight pm. I parked my van at the foot of the block of flats. The building was a pleasant-looking 1970s-built apartment block. It had about five levels and all the front doors of the flats opened directly out on to the front balcony with an im
pressive view on to the car park and grass areas below and over the rooftops of older but still well-maintained houses across the way. The scene was on the fourth floor. There was a feeling of space. It was clean and even the lift (which worked) didn’t have the usual smell of urine which was the norm in many similar complexes. I sensed that the occupants of this building took care to look after it.
When I arrived at the front door to the flat it was open. I could see some scorching to the outside of the front door around the letter box. The fire damage inside was worse but limited to the rear of the door, with a little smoke damage extending at a high level along the hallway area. Looking inside, down the hallway, I could see the detective sitting at a kitchen table with the victim, a middle-aged black woman. The detective was taking a statement but broke away when he saw me. I apologised for the interruption. He explained to me that the lady stated that she had received some racial threats over a period of time. Today, a lighted object had been pushed through the letter box. The victim was in at the time and had quickly put out the fire. The potential threat was serious as, had the fire spread, it would have been potentially life threatening. Being on the fourth floor and with the hallway on fire, she would have had only the front window as a potential escape route.
The detective then drew my attention to a small, heavily blackened bottle complete with charred paper wick. The contents for some reason had been poured down the drain by the first officer at the scene, apparently for some safety reason which made no sense to me at the time. A note for future training, I thought. There was still a drop of liquid which smelt of spirits.
The detective then returned to the victim to continue with the statement whilst I began to examine the scene.
Although the door was on a public landing it still required examination for finger marks, for accuracy and thoroughness if for nothing else. The contents of the bottle required identification and the bottle and the wick would need fingerprint examination. Although now burnt and covered in spirit this would be very important, as it was a direct link to the offender.
I completed a full visual examination, making some initial notes and diagrams before beginning to preserve the bottle and its contents.
There was something which worried me. The glass bottle was indeed small, but the letter box, although a little larger, was restricted by a poorly fitting flap, which severely reduced the opening aperture. I measured both before offering up the bottle as carefully as I could so as not to disturb any finger marks. It didn’t fit and that was obvious. No matter how I tried, this glass bottle was not going to go through the letter box. Nor had it done in the past. This changed the situation completely.
I went into the kitchen and stood by the detective as he sat with the victim at the kitchen table. Looking around, I noticed a neat row of spice jars each one of them identical to the now blackened jar at the front door. And to add to this there was a gap.
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.
5. Cutting my Teeth
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.