by Paul Millen
One of the questions students on the Scene of Crime course at Hendon in mid 1980 were asked in the examination was, ‘What is the phone number of the Fire Investigation Unit?’ as if this was an underpinning principle of forensic science. So no questions like that would be relevant to an international vocational qualification such as the diploma. Likewise I recall in a test on the course I took in 1980 a question asking me to list the eleven people who should be present at an exhumation. There was nothing about their role, the answer required was just a list. So I just began to list those whom I could remember: the coroner (to witness and supervise the investigation); the senior investigating officer (who investigates on behalf of the coroner); the cemetery superintendent (to identify the correct grave plot); the original undertaker (to identify the coffin); a photographer (to photograph the process); a scenes of crime officer (to take soil samples around and underneath the coffin, particularly in poisoning cases); a pathologist (and if possible the original pathologist who would undertake the further postmortem examination). Having named seven, I was by this time drying up so I suggested four gravediggers. You can never have too many gravediggers at an exhumation, I suggested. Well my tutor was not impressed with this, although it brought howls of laughter from my classmates. He thought I was being flippant. I suggested that if I had been flippant I would have included the deceased as one of the eleven. What I learned from this was that testing investigators wasn’t about empty lists but about purpose and principle and how they could be achieved and recognised. So it is the role of the people present that is important, rather than just their presence, which ensures that all the investigative requirements are met. If by chance one person is missing, I would want to know who can undertake that role and keep the investigation on track.
It would take three years for the work of the committee to be complete. The first examination for the Diploma in Crime Scene Investigation was held in 1990. The diploma was to become well established and is now held by successful candidates around the world. I was proud to notice that within two years we would have successful candidates on four continents.
In the UK the need for accreditation of crime scene personnel grew and other awards and diplomas followed. Namely these were the University of Durham Diploma in Scientific Support Skills, National Vocational Qualifications and then a host of university undergraduate and postgraduate degrees. More recently, accreditation of those in the UK practising in the forensic sciences has been possible through the Council for the Registration of Forensic Practitioners. The Forensic Science Society is now a professional body and offers membership and fellowship to suitably qualified members. As a practitioner and later manager I welcomed and supported the movement to independent accreditation. It was something that my bosses back in my days in the Met could not understand and would not support.
Back then, my involvement in the diploma was met with a frosty reception by the Head of SO3 Branch at New Scotland Yard. He ruled over a branch made up of fingerprint, crime scene and photographic officers. He was a fingerprint officer and at that time the branch was embroiled in a painful battle which would require the need for all SOCOs to be trained for a five-year period to become fingerprint experts like their fingerprint officer colleagues. The two groups would be brought together as one and renamed identification officers. To me it was a clear example of not listening to the needs of those working within the field. Instead, it felt to me and my SOCO colleagues that our noses were being rubbed in the dirt and that fingerprint officers were better. Fingerprint identification is an important police science, albeit one operated outside the main forensic science community and by many who would not then have considered themselves or be considered by others as scientists. Therein lay the problem. It was probably from insecurity that the head of SO3 Branch and his close advisers (who were greater in number within the branch) felt the need to subsume the crime scene into the fingerprint field.
As a fledgling manager it struck me as an incredible waste of time, money and resources. Every SOCO (and there were over 200 of us) would each be trained for five years so that we could present the marks we found at court. That would be over 1,000 man years. In reality the existing 150 or so fingerprint experts already identified marks submitted to the branch by SOCOs and a smaller number of experts were needed to present the evidence at court. I had no problem with receiving training in better ways to develop and evaluate marks at the scene, that would increase quality, but full expertise was not needed. I had already realised that well-motivated and active SOCOs were better at finding finger marks because they did it every day. They constantly improved their skills. The identification officer programme ran for ten years before the truth came out and the Met once again recruited directly and specifically officers who were SOCOs in all but name and who did not need to undergo fingerprint expertise training before they were let loose on crime scene. The training was reduced from over four years to a matter of months.
I was not a supporter of the identification officer programme and was never to join. However, having worked as a professional for over ten years and felt the beating in court from having no external accreditation of my skills, I thought that was where the need lay. Professional development and external accreditation, that is what was required.
My elation at being invited to join the Society’s diploma committee was soon dampened. It was obvious from the outset that the Head of SO3 Branch did not approve of external accreditation. If anyone was to accredit Met personnel it was going to be him. He missed the point completely. It was the independent part, with participation of scientists, lawyers, academics, police and independent experts, which gave it its strength. The dinosaurs at the top of SO3 could not see that. They were stuck in the authoritarian era of post-war Scotland Yard and their only concession to the fact that this was no longer the 1950s was that they had stopped wearing hats.
Within a year, I was using ten days of my precious annual leave to attend the meetings up and down the country to prepare the award. It was a strain but, either through bloody-mindedness or stupidity, I continued.
To aid my preparation for the first examinations I went to Tottenham Court Road in London and purchased, at the personal expense of £500, an Amstrad word processor. The lack of support from my employer made me a little bitter but I was determined to see this through. Looking back I realise that this helped my career and my approach to it. I had always suffered from one small disadvantage. My handwriting had always been atrocious. My brain worked faster than I could write and it wasn’t until I began to type that many realised I couldn’t spell either. But I improved and this marked the beginning of a time where I could express myself and communicate in writing with others as I ascended the professional tree.
After three years’ work (and many days of leave!) we were ready to offer the first diploma examinations. No support from the Met meant that no examinations were held there. On a late summer’s day in 1990 simultaneous examinations were held in Harrogate and Surrey in the UK and in Hong Kong and Australia. I completed a night duty at New Scotland Yard and then drove down to Reigate Police in Surrey where two Surrey and one Met officer took the diploma. Surrey Police provided the room and I supervised the examination.
A short time later I once again officially wrote to the head of SO3 Branch. I could now demonstrate that the diploma was a reality. It was also a first. It was the first diploma of its kind in the world and it had attracted international interest.
I was called to see the head of SO3 Branch and met him in his grand office at New Scotland Yard in London. He would not entertain the idea and his opposition was clear. In the privacy of his office he gave me a stark warning. Either I would cease my work on the diploma or my career and any hope of progress would end there and then. I was taken aback by the comment, but I was too fired up, too committed. I looked him straight in the eye and with a little nervousness but with conviction said I would continue, ending with the words, ‘history will say who was right’.
&
nbsp; A few weeks later the registry file from New Scotland Yard landed on my desk at Kings Cross with the official rejection, but obviously without the threat.
I minuted the file with the words, ‘In the absence of your support I thank you for your time.’ One of my managers up the food chain, himself a fingerprint officer, later gleefully congratulated me on my bold putdown.
Fate provided me with a lifeboat, although I wasn’t to know that when I had spoken to the head of SO3 Branch. Surrey Police had advertised for a scientific support manager to head a new department. I had originally applied but I had been sifted out before the interviews. However, no one was appointed. All those interviewed were forensic laboratory scientists who were not entirely committed to developing the new scientific support department there. One candidate was offered the job. He was from another smaller force and although he had no forensic science or crime scene background he was a manager of the scientific support department there. He negotiated a better salary back in his own force and didn’t take up the Surrey offer. Within two months Surrey Police re-advertised the post. They had clarified what they wanted. I phoned to see if they would reconsider me.
Throughout my time as an investigator and particularly during the work preparing the diploma, I had pondered at length on the role and purpose of crime scene investigation and where it sat within the overall process of criminal investigation. Often I would lie awake at night, unable to sleep, thinking about how we could do things much better. The planning and order which I developed in my subconsciousness led me to seek the role of manager and not just supervisor. I wanted desperately to get involved with the planning, development and implementation of a better system of delivering forensic science to the police and courts. Surrey was going to be my chance.
Five candidates were interviewed, made up of crime scene personnel seeking promotion like myself. One candidate was the soon-to-retire detective inspector from the Laboratory Liaison section at the Metropolitan Police Forensic Science Laboratory. He had over thirty years’ experience and he was the favourite as far as I was concerned. I hoped that I offered the future as well as just a safe present.
I was interviewed by two detective superintendents, John Milner and Pat Crossan, at Surrey Police Headquarters in Guildford. The head of personnel completed the three-person panel. John Milner was the chairperson and he played things pretty straight. As I walked into his office where the interview took place I had an overcoat draped over my arm and I was carrying a briefcase. John took my coat and carefully hung it in his wardrobe. Pat Crossan was more inquisitorial and prodded me with some subjects which were controversial. He wanted me to open up and on one subject I disagreed with him and gave my reasons for doing so. I quickly realised he liked the competition and wanted a strong character. My solid operational background and time on the Flying Squad stood me in good stead. My managerial background was relatively modest, but my work and drive developing the Society’s diploma showed that I was progressive in my field. Surrey had hosted a site for the diploma examinations the year before when two of its SOCOs took the examination. It had been John Milner who had supported his staff. By luck, on the very morning of the interview, an article which I had written, was published in The Police Review. It was called ‘Setting Standards’ and I made sure to mention it in the interview.
The interview went well and the following morning I received a call from John Milner offering me the job. I shook as I took the call at my desk at the Met Police Laboratory. It was a good two-grade promotion for me. My Met Police SOCO colleagues looked on in anticipation. Given the battle we had had, and my personal battle with the then head of SO3 Branch, I was a bit of a hero. So for a second time I found that I was a second choice, but that didn’t bother me. I didn’t hold that against Surrey either! I knew I was right for the job and I was determined to do it well. I negotiated a good salary, much better than the one the first successful candidate had done. He was later to lose his job back at his old force within a couple of years when he didn’t make the mark.
I was to enjoy working for John Milner. He was to be my immediate line manager. The post I was filling had previously been held by a detective chief inspector. Surrey, like most forces, realised that a permanent professional was needed. A major review within the UK forces recommended the appointment of scientific support managers to bring the sections together under one manager. Although it was good career development for DCIs seeking promotion to head the crime scene, fingerprint and photographic sections for a short while, it did nothing to develop the sections themselves. One strange situation was that as I was a civilian manager of the new department, I was to be the direct line manager to a detective inspector (who was head of the fingerprint section) and a detective sergeant and many constables within the crime scene team. Ray Elvy was the detective inspector. He was the consummate professional and both he and I had to work at this new relationship for it was the first time a civilian was managing a detective officer as senior as an inspector within the force.
John was pleased with my appointment and I was flattered when he regularly reminded officers at the senior detectives meetings that my appointment was an ‘opportunity’ for the force. This I took in its wider sense, meaning the new post which I occupied, but John’s tone added a personal touch. I was only to work with John on one major investigation. That was because Pat Crossan headed the operational side of the HQ crime department. I was to support Pat Crossan in many major investigations and I enjoyed working with this talented, committed, utterly professional senior detective.
My commitment to develop myself and the colleagues who I worked with was to be given a chance. I left the Met with a little sadness and a lot of trepidation, but I felt that I was making the right move. It was going to be hard work and fun and at times painful, but it was the right thing to do. The development of the individual, or a profession, does not come without pain. I was about to step up to the plate.
17. Surrey Without a Fringe on Top
It wasn’t a particularly welcoming start. I arrived at Surrey Police Headquarters early one April morning to begin my first day at work there. I had been nervous with expectant anticipation for the days leading up to it. This was a big move.
I was thirty-something, prematurely bald, and I had a background as a proven crime scene investigator and first-line supervisor. Now I was to manage. My role was to lead a complete unit. I had a vision of where I wanted to go with the department. There were opportunities in science and its application which few, if any, police force had even started to realise. I had some idea of where they were now, but I had to get the detail.
It seemed that I wasn’t expected. I was shown to the canteen and sat there for a while. Ray Elvy eventually found me there. Both the detective superintendents had been called away.
The vacuum caused by having no DCI in the post for some time meant that the office I was due to have had been occupied by someone else. I quickly realised that I was literally going to have to start from scratch.
Ray showed me round and introduced me to the members of the HQ fingerprint and photographic staff. Many were puzzled that a civilian had been appointed and didn’t seem as enthusiastic as I was. I was probably just another boss to them, and not even a police officer. I got a better reception from the scenes of crime personnel on division, many of whom I knew.
First things first. I had to find an office and a desk. Finding the office was relatively easy – there was a good-sized room in a converted police house at the end of a terrace of houses in the grounds of the Mount Browne site. Many of the houses had been converted to offices because of the lack of space. The desk literally came out of a skip. It was earmarked for the dump. It was large but it would do. I had worked out of the back of a car for four years on the Flying Squad and so any desk was a luxury. The estate manager ensured that the locks on the desk were changed and I quickly settled down to work. I would keep that desk for six years until a new laboratory facility building was built solely for scient
ific support.
At the end of my first day I went home with a massive headache. And it lasted for a few days as my brain computed the massive task I had undertaken. I wasn’t to know it (there were few computers available) but I needed the human equivalent of a faster processor and a higher RAM!
Some good advice I had received early in my life was that when starting a new job it is best to keep your ears open and mouth closed. This I did. I met, visited and got to know as best I could all the members of what was to become the scientific support department. I also was introduced to the senior detective team and HQ crime staff as well as other people I would interact with.
I went to the head of personnel and drew out the personal files of all the scientific support staff and read them. I didn’t want to prejudge, I would make my own mind up, but I felt it was important to do a little homework. Reading the files I quickly realised the talents, qualification and baggage. I was committed to give everyone a chance, and hoped it would be reciprocated.
Surrey had a sound and solid background in delivering fingerprint and forensic evidence, and some present and former members of staff were well respected within the force and within the region. My arrival, timed like many in similar posts within the UK service, marked a time of change in technology and opportunity. It was a blank sheet of paper, an open door. Never before had the crime scene, fingerprint and photographic sections been managed by a single professional manager. There were lots of ideas which, until then, had fallen on stony ground. The development of the scenes of crime section had been hampered by the historical police rank structure. I had observed for a long time that talented police scenes of crime officers throughout the UK were put off applying for promotion as it usually meant leaving the department and returning to other police roles. There was little incentive to develop the person or the science. Civilianisation of the police roles brought a career structure which benefited the development of both and was well advanced in Surrey. Perhaps those in authority in Surrey were just waiting for someone who knew how to implement the required changes when I arrived. I had to nurture the sponsors and focus the sections and all the individuals within it.
