Crime Scene Investigator

by Paul Millen

  Crime Scene Investigator

  Crime Scene Investigator

  Paul Millen

  ROBINSON

  London

  Constable & Robinson Ltd

  55–56 Russell Square

  London WC1B 4HP

  www.constablerobinson.com

  Published by Robinson,

  an imprint of Constable & Robinson, 2008

  Copyright © Paul Millen, 2008

  The right of Paul Millen to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A copy of the British Library Cataloguing in Publication

  Data is available from the British Library

  ISBN: 978-1-84529-663-6

  eISBN: 978-1-47210-777-0

  Printed and bound in the EU

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  Contents

  Introduction

  1 Young Sherlock

  2 First Steps

  3 Forensics: So What’s it all About?

  4 A Touch of Spice

  5 Cutting my Teeth

  6 Needle in a Haystack

  7 The Murder of Dr Goss

  8 The Flying Squad

  9 The Robber Who Bit Off More than he Could Chew

  10 Eleven Fibres

  11 Operation Young

  12 Turning the Key

  13 Corroborating the Supergrass

  14 Bad News and Very Bad News

  15 Coffee on the Carpet

  16 Diploma

  17 Surrey Without a Fringe on Top

  18 The Body in Lime

  19 Crime Scene Manager

  20 Gone for a Walk

  21 A Murder Crime Scene With No Body

  22 Murder in Mozambique

  23 Independent

  24 Justice Delayed

  25 A Cockney at the Source of the Nile

  Epilogue

  To those who seek the truth and to those whose job it is to find it

  Introduction

  There is no such thing as a perfect crime. For every effect there is a cause, for every contact there is a trace. The detection of crime is dependent on both time and resource. A crime may seem perfect but there is always a victim, an offender and some gain, financial or emotional. There are always witnesses, some unwitting, to events which the offender would wish to conceal. Some crimes may be particularly well planned and elude detection for long periods of time, but detection is never impossible. Persistence and opportunity (some may call it luck) can unlock even the most difficult investigations. The resourcefulness, skill and tenacity of investigators are all that is needed to identify that a crime has taken place and bring the offender to justice.

  This is not to say that all crimes are solved. But they can be. All you need to do is ask the right question of the right person and look in the right place.

  Crime scene investigation is not what some popular TV programmes would have us believe. Some episodes cram in a lifetime of real endeavour. But in one area TV has it right. Crime scene investigation is more than just the examination of the crime scene and the recovery of forensic evidence. It is about reaching milestones which fix fact into an investigation. Fact from which there is no turning back. Quite often there are key or killer questions (no pun intended), the answers to which are profound. They can mean that certain statements from witnesses or the accused are proven absolutely true or false. They may not come along too often, but when they do they can turn the direction of an investigation. Often it is the little pieces of evidence which build up to give a full picture. It is always necessary to stand back and question the validity of each part and the overall view. Small milestones can often make a case.

  Crime scene investigation doesn’t usually extend to the interviewing of suspects unless you work in a small department and cover a large area. CSI is about the scientific investigation of crime. It is a contributor to the wider crime investigation and detection. Unlike on TV, it is not carried out by one individual or by a team, each member of which has the same and complete set of skills. The team is varied and diverse. Each member brings his or her skills, investigational, practical and knowledge-based, and through clear communication and good management focus on the common goal, the detection of the crime.

  Forensic evidence is just like any other evidence produced in court. It can be accepted or rejected by the judge and jury. It may be strong or weak, it may support a theory or proposition or not. Strong evidence is that which has a high probability of supporting a view, a contact, a presence, an event. Even then it is strong or weak only based on the science as it is understood at that time and in the context of which it is being used. Forensic evidence is never good or bad. That is really dependent on whose side you are on and science doesn’t take sides. It only seeks to support the truth so it should only be described as strong or weak. Likewise, whenever I hear that some evidence is ‘consistent with’ I shudder. It is a question which experts will be asked by ill-informed lawyers. To me it is a trap; it may be unintentional but it is a trap none the less. The evidence may be consistent with some other event or proposition. The expert must also consider these other circumstances and communicate them too. DNA is generally considered strong evidence, foolproof. However, it must be questioned and tested in the judicial process to ensure that it is used in the correct context. DNA evidence, strong though it may appear, does not prove guilt on its own.

  Some people are born investigators, others are taught. Both types improve with development, practice, experience and exposure. The last, exposure to a large range of criminal investigations rather than just one type, is very important as it confronts the investigator with a range of experiences on which to do well and also to make mistakes. There is nothing wrong with making mistakes, provided they don’t result in miscarriages of justice. The mistakes which I am referring to are ones of approach, technique and recovery. These can be corrected and honed to improve and investigate further crime, particularly more complicated or serious crime. Everything found or recovered should be kept even if its condition could be better. Like any apprentice, I cut my teeth on the basics, improving and developing, learning how to do things better. I embraced the opportunities which technology and changes in legislation gave me.

  The ability to think objectively and laterally, to look at objects or scenes in a different way, to look up as well as ahead are all important. I am still horrified by the care which I took to copy and describe some strange writing on an object which had been submitted to the forensic science laboratory early in my career. The font was strange and appeared like hieroglyphics, until I turned it around. To my shock and embarrassment it read simply ‘1½’. It was a lesson so well learnt that I still remember it thirty years later. And the important thing is to learn and to keep on learning.

  There is a tendency to see things not as they are, but as we are. So we make assumptions based on our experience and expectations. There is a constant challenge for the investigator to test those assumptions. Only then can we be sure that the assumption is correct and the answer measured against our understanding and wider accepted knowledge.

  Science is the perfect companion and contributor to the detection of crime. By its own nature, seeking information, observing, questioning, analysing and testing against published criteria and even questioning those criteria, are the meat and drink of science. The discipline is in carefully rec
ording observations, material and tests so that others might see and question. It is the basis of sound scientific endeavour. Important enough in the laboratory or places of learning, it is critical in a court of law where the liberty, reputation and perhaps the very life of the accused may be at stake. It is a sobering responsibility.

  Rules often limit the boundaries of our imagination. Prejudices and preconceptions impede our search for the truth because we may not like the answer or what it might reveal.

  As a young scenes of crime officer (often known as SOCO), I was sometimes told that, because I was a civilian and not a police officer, I could not examine crime scenes effectively. That was long before I realised that I was actually investigating scenes and with some success too. These unhelpful remarks by some colleagues were the last throes of a dinosaur age where some thought they could protect their jobs through such jibes. These individuals were not detectives in any sense of the word; they had missed the evidence before their own eyes. A questioning mind is not the sole right of any individual; it is an attribute which many people have and use in many walks of life. Later in my service I enjoyed the company of many fine detectives and investigators. For them I opened a door to the resources of the forensic science laboratory and beyond. There they found a wealth of committed and talented scientists who delivered the interpretation of evidence which we had recovered.

  Even being without police powers did not stop me doing my duty as any member of the public can. Through being present at the right time I can claim three citizen’s arrests on two occasions, although as I recall they were recorded as ‘given into custody’ on the arrest sheet back at the station. Both occasions were to the amusement and joking congratulations of my police officer colleagues. Even more embarrassing was the occasion I stumbled across a cycle theft which had just taken place and saw two young men re-spraying an impressive new cycle. Calling on my radio for help, the ensuing chase involved a fleet of police cars and the newly acquired and much prized police helicopter. At the end of the chase there was nothing to show but a partially re-sprayed stolen cycle, lots of out of breath and red-faced police officers and one equally out of breath and out of shape, red-faced scenes of crime officer. Later, much later, once I had composed myself, I examined the recovered cycle. I managed to recover finger marks from the spray can used by one of the young men. Once identified, a detective took a more leisurely stroll to the young man’s house and arrested him. Now, wasn’t that much simpler, I thought.

  In writing such a book there is a danger that I might educate career criminals or even someone who plans to undertake a life of crime. I have no desire to do either. My advice to such individuals is, don’t bother, you will get caught. Apply your talents to honest living, the rewards are better. So I have focused on how scene investigators undertake their interesting and challenging work and the tools they use, physical, mental and evidential. I hope to offer an insight into how crime scene investigators think and how they seek. I would like to inspire those new to this field and assure the honest reader that the answers are out there. This is not a textbook of forensic science (there are other volumes in print that offer that) but it is about the tools and methods the crime scene investigator applies. This book has examples of some of the scene investigations which I have either undertaken or managed. They offer the reader real examples of how some of these methods can be applied. There are also chapters covering the crime scene sciences themselves. I hope to inspire the reader to realise the limitless boundaries of evidence and to inform those of ‘ill will’ that their actions are futile. The only lottery is the skill of the investigator who is chasing them. As more and more sound investigators join law enforcement agencies, that aspect is diminishing. To the innocent, and those victims who wait to be healed by the capture of the offender, there is the comfort that the truth is out there. Sometimes justice is delayed, but I hope that it is not denied too long or too often.

  My career would take me from a comprehensive school education to working at a bench at a forensic science laboratory, to crime scene investigation and the Flying Squad. I would command my own department in Surrey Police and serve in high office in the Forensic Science Society. Then I graduated to the independent field, defence investigations, training and contributing to TV documentaries in high-profile cases of the moment, ultimately to foreign fields, to Jamaica, the Source of the Nile in Uganda, and to Afghanistan post 9/11. Not bad for a boy from south London who found his science A levels challenging, but through tenacity and a firm sense of purpose passed, and went on to college and ultimately succeeded.

  Through these pages I hope to enlighten you on the journey I took and on some of the cases I had the opportunity to investigate. I am hesitant to appear boastful or conceited and I do not want to forget all the fine colleagues who I worked with and those who continue to develop the science and the practice today. I was fortunate to be part of the development of the science at a particular moment in time, a small contribution in the scheme of things but a contribution none the less. I never forgot the victim or why I was motivated to do my job. These emotions did not cloud my responsibility to bring the offender, and only the offender, to justice. Like many of my contemporaries, I helped bring to book individuals who had committed minor and serious crime, all which affected the lives of their victims. I also helped eliminate and exonerate the innocent, of which I am equally and profoundly proud.

  I hope that this can be read by the casual reader with an interest generated by the public perception of crime scene investigation and by the professional alike. For the former, I hope that it is not disappointing given the speed and glamour of the TV programmes which bear the name CSI. For the latter I hope that it reinforces the shared experiences and offers at least a little further insight in some areas. The book is written with chapters on biographical experience intermingled with the science which I believe underpins them. I have taken the decision not to include photographs. This is not a textbook and many photographs would be offensive to victims or their families. If any of the material in this book offends or causes pain to any victim of crime, I apologise now. My only hope is that it demonstrates that the truth is out there and it can be found. Wherever possible I have changed the names of many people involved in these cases to protect their identity. The names of some remain unchanged as do the names of police officers and colleagues. So I want you to think and picture in your own mind the work I undertook. I hope the text allows you to do that. If you are happy to read on from an intellectual position driven by interest, I hope this informs.

  London, January 2008

  1. Young Sherlock

  Still holding the gun, I stood in front of the vehicle’s shattered windscreen. The glass was everywhere. I was about to get caught, my heart was racing but for some reason my legs were not.

  I grew up on a pleasant housing estate in south London and a regular and daily visitor to our street was the Unigate milk float, driven by a rotund, tall, red-faced, jovial and kind milkman who we knew only as ‘Milko’. He was a constant and reliable presence who embodied all the best virtues of friendship and neighbourliness as he went about his daily task of delivering fresh milk to all the houses and flats on the estate. He would always be in the background at some time during the day as we played.

  Two events as a child had a profound effect on me and probably determined my future professional career.

  The first occurred while playing with my friends, Billy, John and Jo-Jo. I had been bought as a birthday or Christmas gift, a cowboy outfit (some might think I was to work for at least one in later life) complete with cowboy hat and belt and toy pistol. Prized amongst the set was a mechanical ‘pop’ gun. It was of thin metal construction and popular amongst young boys growing up in the 1960s. It had a long barrel rather like a toy rifle or shotgun. At the end was a cork which could be placed in the muzzle and pop out under pressure when the trigger was pulled with an accompanying satisfactory bang. To prevent injury or similar, the cork was attached to the
barrel at one end by a chain or piece of string so it didn’t fly too far.

  Well, this wasn’t good enough for Jo-Jo. A year or two older than me, he was the maverick leader of our little gang.

  On that fateful day Jo-Jo and I were playing in the driveway of the block of flats where he, Billy and John all lived. Milko was in the flats delivering the milk and Jo-Jo and I were outside. The front of Milko’s electric milk float was facing us. Jo-Jo had the idea of replacing the supplied cork with a handful of small stones picked up from the gravel. Placing them in the barrel he pointed it directly at the windscreen of the milk float and pulled the trigger. The sound of the shattering windscreen was deafening. At this point Jo-Jo handed me the gun and shot off like a rocket to hide. I stood there for what seemed to be an eternity, not really understanding what had happened. I don’t know if I had intended to run, wasn’t fast enough or just plain stupid but in any event I didn’t move. Milko quickly emerged from the flats (the fastest I had ever seen this mature man move) where he confronted me. A short blond-haired boy wearing a pair of baggy shorts and a dumb expression was standing at the scene of the crime, holding the offending weapon. I was caught red-handed, ‘bang to rights’ as I would later know the term to be. The evidence was all around. The offender was still holding the weapon and the shattered glass of the screen said it all.

  I was taken firmly by the ear and led by Milko to my house a hundred or so yards away to be greeted by my father. I’m not sure if I had protested my innocence on the way, or had ‘grassed’ Jo-Jo up by then, but both my father and Milko probably had already realised this was not in my nature. I could sense the wry smiles and hidden amusement on both of their faces as I protested my innocence. I was suitably admonished for the event by embarrassment if nothing else. Between them they sorted out how the damage was to be repaired. I don’t suppose my father was too pleased at the prospect of having to fork out for a new windscreen, when we couldn’t afford a car of our own at that time. I don’t remember any sanctions, but there must have been some. But such was the loving family environment in which I grew up that whatever the punishment, I soon forgot it.