The Wrong Man: The Shooting of Steven Waldorf and The Hunt for David Martin

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The Wrong Man: The Shooting of Steven Waldorf and The Hunt for David Martin Page 22

by Dick Kirby


  I thought that the Martin case had been a perfect example of how a dedicated team of detectives could be plucked out of their normal duties and channelled into a top-level investigation. It happened later in the year when that same team of officers supplemented the Flying Squad’s Walthamstow office when they investigated the Security Express robbery at Shoreditch in which underworld luminaries such as Ronnie Knight and the Kray’s henchman, Freddie Forman, would figure so prominently. It happened again that year when gold bullion valued at £26 million was stolen from the Brink’s-Mat warehouse near Heathrow.

  Citing these two cases, it seemed to me that inescapable logic demanded the Flying Squad should keep a central reserve. To my great dismay, within a short period of time, the remainder of the squads at the Yard were devolved and assimilated into the area offices.

  Cater retired from the force in January 1985 and Don Brown, a month later. I always thought that he, plus Nicky Benwell, Davy Walker and the others who dashed into that pitch-black tunnel in pursuit of Martin, would receive gallantry awards. But they received nothing, no gongs, no commendations, no ‘well dones.’ It was thought politically incorrect to praise the men who had caught Martin because of the stigma attached to the case, where an innocent man had been shot by police who were not connected in any way with the Flying Squad. It was the type of gutlessness which should have caused the mandarins at both Scotland Yard and Whitehall to hang their heads in shame.

  I know that Peter Finch was also being considered for a bravery award for the arrest of Martin at Crawford Place; with the shooting of Waldorf, that went straight out of the window. The only semblance of recognition went to PC Carr. For wrestling with Martin to try to take the gun off him and incidentally getting shot in the process, he was awarded a Deputy Assistant Commissioner’s Commendation. It was the lowest award the Metropolitan Police could bestow, and in PC Carr’s case, it was an insult.

  After his release from hospital, Carr was off sick for six months. He then resumed duty at Marylebone Lane but in 1985, while carrying out an arrest, he chipped his elbow and was taken off frontline duties to work in the Criminal Prosecutions Office. He then raised and ran the charge centre at Wembley Stadium until 1995 when he worked at Harrow police station. Ten years later, he retired, having served thirty years. From time to time, he still experiences discomfort from the effects of the gunshot.

  George Ness was later promoted to the rank of commander, was appointed the head of the Flying Squad, awarded the Queen’s Police Medal for distinguished service and retired in 1993.

  Neil Dickens and Michael Taylor were both promoted to the rank of deputy assistant commissioner, were similarly awarded the Queen’s Police Medal and retired, respectively, in 1994 and 1995.

  Lester Purdy told me that he and Marion Waldorf had been drifting apart but the shooting brought them back together and they married in 1985. However, he experienced trauma; as he told me, ‘I had a lot of hang-ups regarding Steve getting shot and dealing with the fact that I ran and left him and Sue,’ and a psychiatrist suggested that he was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. For a variety of reasons, he and Marion later divorced. Purdy was employed project managing communication installations and in 1987, met his future second wife. They and their family now live in the South of England.

  Steven Waldorf, Purdy tells me, is believed to be doing well in the property business in North London. Peter Enter moved to the North of England for many years but he and Purdy met up again in 2002 when Purdy employed him for a short while, using Enter’s electrician’s expertise to install mainframe computers; they lost touch in 2004 when Purdy moved.

  As for Sue Stephens, Purdy said, ‘After the shooting, she went back to her mum’s. She had health problems and I know the whole thing affected her greatly. She told me she had met a guy in Topsham.’ In 2000, Stephens was believed to have moved to Europe.

  One by one, several of my contemporaries on the case died; Nicky Benwell, who had been awarded a Queen’s Police Medal for his sterling work in Northern Ireland, Tony Freeman, Graham Newell, Tony Brightwell, Cam Burnell, Davy Walker – and Don Brown. Don died in August 2007 from mesothelioma, a rare form of cancer almost always caused by exposure to asbestos dust; its development can take between ten and forty years to materialise. His widow Linda always believed that this had been caused by Don’s exposure to the asbestos contained in tube train’s brake linings from when he went down the tunnel after Martin. However, she also recalled that when he returned home after the incident, his suit was covered in white powder and it had to be taken to the dry cleaners. What she was not aware of was that in 1932, an experiment to soundproof a 430-yard stretch of the southbound Northern Line tunnel, between Golders Green and Hampstead stations, using blue asbestos had been carried out.

  Since that time, Transport for London has attempted to rid the Underground system of asbestos while at the same time stating that its level in the atmosphere is far below danger level. At the time of writing, there is a new estimated date of 2017 for the tunnels to be cleaned, although Transport for London still asserts that the dust levels were ‘highly unlikely’ to cause serious damage to human health. The organisation Clean Air in London disagrees; and so does Linda Brown. Was that Don Brown’s reward for his gallantry – a painful, lingering death, instead of the medal he so richly deserved?

  * * *

  1. This appeared to be a favoured weapon; already on 1 August 1983, he had thrown the contents of a chamber pot over several warders, thereby earning himself fifty-six days’ solitary confinement.

  Rumours and Opinions

  Following the shooting of Waldorf and the final arrest of Martin, there was a great deal of speculation and rumour; and to a certain extent, in the immediate aftermath of the event, this was understandable. But as the years passed, when people really should have known better, the hearsay went viral and what was arrant nonsense became accepted as fact.

  For example, it was said that the yellow Mini was not hired but stolen. One rumour had Waldorf driving and completely unaware that Susie Stephens had somehow crept into the back, unnoticed by him. Another was that Waldorf was in the back of the car, and Stephens in the front and also that there were two women in the back. One rumour which made its way into print was that after Finch had shot Waldorf, he aimed his empty gun between Waldorf’s eyes, said, ‘OK, cocksucker,’ and pulled the trigger. It was alleged that both Martin and Waldorf had been shot by members of the Flying Squad and that months later, it was discovered that there were goods stolen by Martin in the Mini.

  It was stated quite categorically that Martin had shot PC Carr after escaping from Great Marlborough Street Magistrates’ Court on Christmas Eve. Also Martin was hanged before he could stand trial and during his escape into Hampstead Underground station, he had got into a train driver’s cab, in possession of a sawn-off shotgun, telling the driver that he was a signals engineer and best of all, when he was pursued through the underground tunnel, he was in drag and was glad to be caught ‘because these high heels are killing me’.

  In addition, one of the strongest rumours put about by those of the criminal classes who have achieved a thin veneer of education and are actually able to put one consecutive word in front of another, was that a ‘shoot on sight’ policy existed in respect of Martin. Slightly more articulate sections of the left-wing press suggested that there were government sanctioned death squads. Neither was true and I hope that this book has gone a long way to disprove those assertions; to sensible readers, that is. Nothing that I or anybody else says will make one jot of difference to the unshakable faith that the criminals have in their accusations, but consider this: if such a policy existed, wouldn’t it have made sense for the Flying Squad – whom the criminals detest more than any other branch of the Metropolitan Police – to have utilised that dictum in the Underground tunnel at Belsize Park and shot Martin dead? They didn’t, because of course no such instruction existed.

  It’s easy, I know, to be wise after the e
vent. Hindsight, that attribute with which all defence barristers are blessed, is a wonderful thing. But whenever the matter of the shooting of Steven Waldorf and the hunt for David Martin is mentioned, the question will inevitably arise: should Detective Constable Peter Finch have been instructed to have gone out alone on foot and armed to attempt to identify the man in the yellow Mini as being David Martin?

  My opinion is ‘No.’ I give it because I spent much of my career being involved in confrontational and often dangerous situations. Sometimes I would have sufficient time to work out a plan, to evaluate the risks, minimise them as much as possible and balance my decision on the success or not of the mission; on other occasions, I had to trust my gut instinct and go in with my head down; and sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t. But that was not the case on this occasion. The operation had been planned twenty-four hours in advance.

  Look at the facts. On 15 September 1982, Finch confronted a highly dangerous criminal who, within the space of the previous six weeks, had shot and seriously wounded a security guard during a robbery and shortly thereafter, had also shot and again almost killed a fellow police officer. And yet, at the time of the confrontation, Finch was unaware that the person he was addressing was the wanted man; in fact, he believed him to be a woman. In the ensuing struggle, Martin had produced a fully loaded handgun and then, when he relinquished hold of it, when Finch thought the threat was over, he suddenly produced a second and fully loaded pistol and threatened him with that. Martin was shot at point-blank range by a colleague – and that shot was in a very close proximity to Finch as well. Splattered with Martin’s blood, dazed and shocked by the whole incident, Finch was led away to the police station. It was an incident filled with trauma, from top to bottom.

  Nowadays Finch would have rightly received counselling. In those days, due to the police force’s macho image, the thought of seeing a psychiatrist would have been unthinkable. It was not until 13 October 1986 that the Police Welfare Service enlarged its scope to cover ‘occupational problems’ with a welfare officer on call, outside normal hours. In fact, psychiatric counselling was not routinely considered for undercover officers who often perform the most hazardous of operations for another ten years, whereas their Dutch and Belgian counterparts received it whether they wanted counselling or not. So it was only in 1990, when Finch was placed sick with stress, that it was suggested he seek psychiatric help.

  Then just over three months later Martin escaped from court. Handguns from the gunsmiths burglary were still outstanding. No one was under any illusions as to how dangerously out of control and cunning Martin was, least of all Finch. And yet, two weeks later, after what appeared to be credible evidence having been received that Martin was going to reappear, Finch was once more armed and put into an OP in the expectation that he would be able to identify Martin. Should he have been on that operation at all? I think not.

  The ideal person to be both in the OP and the operation would have been Detective Constable Fred Arnold. He had spent the most time with Martin. In fact, he was available; he and other officers were listening on the RT set in the incident room at Paddington Green, ‘Delta 18’, as the drama unfolded. That there should have been armed officers, quite separate from the C11 officers on that operation, I do not dispute. If the situation had arisen where it was absolutely necessary to arrest Martin on the street, independent authorised shots would be needed to effect that arrest, rather than to rely purely upon the clandestine role of the armed officers of C11.

  And when it became clear that the person thought to be Martin had got into that yellow Mini, there was absolutely no necessity for anybody to reconnoitre on foot, especially not – had he been present – Fred Arnold, with his distinctive six foot five appearance, as well as being someone very well known to Martin. All that was needed would have been for Arnold to get into the C11 taxi. It could then have unobtrusively driven alongside the Mini, Arnold would have looked out from behind the taxi’s darkened windows, and with the occupants of the Mini unable to see him, he could have carried out a safe identification of the man in the front passenger seat.

  Perhaps Arnold might have made the same mistake as Finch over the identity of the Mini’s passenger but if he had, what of it? The Mini would quite simply have been followed until its final destination and, had the passenger been Martin, he could have been safely housed until the reins were taken over by D11 operatives. On the other hand, if it had been established that the passenger in the Mini was not Martin, a decision would have been made, either to continue or abort the operation.

  However, as I have already mentioned, in those days D11 were not involved in mobile plots, only static ones. So why not have involved the Flying Squad in the operation? One specialist unit, C11, had been called in from the Yard, so why not another? I do not pretend that the Flying Squad was the be-all and end-all in the police world, but undeniably that unit had the world’s best drivers and over the squad’s previous sixty years they had become experts at chasing, boxing in and if necessary ramming target vehicles. What was more, armed squad officers were renowned at carrying out what is now euphemistically known as ‘hard stops’. The Flying Squad’s presence was there for the asking.

  I passed my opinion on Fred Arnold’s suggested involvement to him and he agreed unequivocally with it. My opinion of whether or not Finch should have been there was a view shared by several people that I spoke to. Steve Holloway said, ‘Peter Finch had been armed by the SIO [Senior Investigating Officer] – major mistake – the guy was probably still traumatised from his last encounter with Martin. No disrespect to Finch – he was put into a situation that he should not have been.’

  In particular, I contacted a former member of the Metropolitan Police Firearms Unit, a National Firearms Instructor and Tactical Advisor. The author of The Good Guys Wear Black, who writes under the pen name ‘Steve Collins’, had this to say:

  I totally agree with you that Finch should never have been there, certainly in an armed capacity. I believe that given his history with Martin he was probably suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).1 The very fact that he drew his firearm as he approached the vehicle leads me to suspect that he had already formed the opinion in his own mind that his nemesis Martin was going to be in the vehicle. From that moment on, everything went wrong and he simply shot in a panic to survive.

  Let’s take what went wrong:

  • Finch approached the vehicle alone, weapon drawn.

  • He opened fire on a vehicle full of occupants without considering his backdrop.

  • He later goes on to pistol whip the suspect.

  • Deane, on the other hand, opened fire on a vehicle full of people without identifying his target or knowing the full facts.

  I can understand the actions of Jardine who believed it was Martin and he was reaching for a gun.

  Personally, I feel sorry for the guy [Finch] who was obviously distraught and I feel angry at the senior officers that put him in that position after such a short time following the previous incident.

  I believe that with the Intel they had, they should have continued the surveillance until the vehicle stopped at an address and the suspect identified … even if it was Martin in the vehicle, nobody at that point was in danger. [Author’s underlining]

  However, Peter Finch took a completely opposite view. ‘Should I have been there?’ he asked me rhetorically. ‘I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. I arrested him and nearly lost my life. I wanted him behind bars again. I would have objected if I wasn’t on the squad. Maybe other officers would have also ID’d Waldorf as Martin, because they were so much alike. Maybe it was a mistake others could have made.’

  It’s interesting to read Finch’s comment ‘I wanted him behind bars again’ because there exists a parallel between what happened in Pembroke Road and when Woman Police Constable 325 ‘Z’ Kathleen Flora Parrott acted as a decoy to try to catch a violent rapist in 1955. She was attacked and badly physically and sexually assa
ulted by the man, who escaped. But after five weeks off sick, she resumed the decoy patrol and the perpetrator, an ex-commando, was caught and convicted. Over half a century later, when I asked her why she had continued the patrols, she replied, ‘I wanted that so-and-so in prison.’

  Two good police officers both doing their duty to put dangerous men behind bars, but there unfortunately the similarity ends. WPC Parrott and her female companion were both awarded George Medals and the arrest was carried out by a holder of the George Cross.2 There would be no medals for Finch. ‘The whole incident changed my life, completely,’ he told me. ‘There hasn’t been one day go by without me thinking about the event.’

  It was Lester Purdy who some thirty years after the incident mentioned a number of theories to me. One was that someone was wearing the black wig in the car to pretend that they were Sue Stephens, so that she could slip away to meet Martin. Really, this is nonsense. Both Purdy and Peter Enter had put the wig on as a joke, the latter at Stephens’s address on 14 January. Stephens had suggested he wear it for a dare in the street and he did; he kept it on until the others got into the Mini, when Stephens snatched it off him and threw it into the Mini and there it remained. ‘I think that theory was made up by the police to make us look bad because it fooled them into attempted murder,’ Purdy told me. Well, this was a new one to me. The fact remains that the wig was used, but only by Stephens when she had previously met Martin.

  The next of Purdy’s rumours was that it had been suggested they had deliberately set out to decoy the police, to make them believe that Martin was in the Mini; however, he added, ‘what would have been the purpose of that?’ Purdy was quite right; to decoy the police away from what? If that had been the case, the police would have had to have believed that Martin was in a certain place, at a certain time, as would the occupants of the Mini in order to draw the police away from him, but this was simply not the case. The car’s occupants correctly said they were going to Coulsdon to pick up a car for a film shoot. The Mini was hired in Purdy’s name and paid for with a cheque drawn from his account, not the sort of behaviour one associates with conspirators.

 

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