by Mandy Wiener
Dixon’s analysis of bullet hole ‘D’ mirrored what Vermeulen had told the court weeks earlier – that the cracks on opposite ends – at the top and the bottom – of the hole indicated that the bullet pierced the wood before the bat striking it caused the crack. The defence experts had conducted tests of their own; they first cracked the replica door and then fired a shot through the crack to prove that, if the crack came first, it would form a continuous line through the bullet hole.
Dixon’s study of the mark in line with the door lock showed that the varnish had been abraded and, on closer inspection, white fibres were embedded into the door – a close-up photograph of the mark was shown to the court. ‘In reconstructing the sequence of events, the only material which is consistent with this white fibre, is the white socks worn over the prosthesis of Mr Pistorius,’ said Dixon. It appeared the defence team had done its homework. This seemed to prove what Roux had put to previous witnesses: the mark corresponded with Oscar’s version that he had kicked the door before taking the cricket bat to it.
The next photo showed the sole of Oscar’s right prosthetic foot, on which Dixon pointed out dark vertical lines near the toe, which he said was varnish that had become embedded in the rubber covering. This photo had been taken by the police, so why hadn’t Vermeulen or any of the state experts linked this evidence to the door? Dixon further rubbished Vermeulen’s suggestion that the mark on the wooden panel could have been caused by Oscar kicking it on the floor after the panel had been knocked out of its frame because a significant amount of force – like a kick – would need to be applied for the transfer of materials to take place.
Dixon identified and explained the remaining two marks. He also presented photographs to the court of the bat and explained that these marks corresponded to those on the door. He further explained that the tiles that had come loose from the wall to the left of the door were probably caused by the first blow against the frame of the door, which would have sent shock waves through the outer frame and into the wall. These vibrations could have been strong enough to cause the tiles to fall off.
The former police expert took a swipe at the conduct of the SAPS officials on the way they handled the scene, describing it as most unprofessional:
If a photographer needs to go around before anything has been marked or moved, there is a lane which you sacrifice, you choose what is the least likely way of getting around the crime scene in order to minimise compromising it.
Walking over panels, it is in my experience at crime scenes, it is unfortunate. People walk all over the place.
This type of criticism was being echoed in the streets outside the court. It wouldn’t be the first case bungled by police incompetence or negligence, and if the police behaved in this manner at one of the most high-profile cases in the world, what was the average person experiencing at everyday crime scenes across the country? However, in this extraordinarily high-profile case, the police had made use of their very best forensic experts and those with the most experience.
Speaking to members of the prosecution team as well as police investigators, it was clear that Nel was going to give Dixon a lambasting when it came to cross-examination. The prosecutor was itching to tear a strip off the former policeman. It all came down to the role of an expert witness in a trial and the scope to which that person can competently testify. The qualified geologist was employed at the University of Pretoria’s Department of Geology where he was responsible for analysing ‘soils and all sorts of things’, but he wasn’t affiliated to any forensic body and did not conduct regular proficiency tests in his fields of expertise, like the police do. Yet he felt competent enough to provide expert evidence on forensics.
‘You understand what the difference is between a normal general witness and a expert witness?’ asked Nel in his opening line of enquiry.
‘The difference is that the layman has not got specific knowledge in the area in which they are doing their examination,’ explained Dixon. ‘And an expert would be somebody who has got experience in applying their training to the matter at hand.’
The prosecutor questioned whether, as an expert witness, he would have to explain to the court the processes undertaken to reach the final conclusion. Dixon started his answer by listing the items he had studied, and then pointed out that while he is not a ballistics expert he did apply logic to reach his conclusions, before using an analogy of a geological map that plotted out bedrock to infer that similar principles applied to crime scene investigation.
It was tedious. Nel was swinging his spectacles in his right hand, put his leg up on his chair and at times talked to his colleague Andrea Johnson as the witness rambled on. This was to be a hallmark of Dixon’s testimony.
Nel cut to the chase. ‘You gave evidence on sound,’ he asked, referring to the tests of the bat being struck against the door compared to gunshots. ‘Are you a sound expert? Just answer that question.’
‘I would hope that my evidence that I present is sound, yes,’ said Dixon, being facetious.
While Bennie van Staden, the official photographer, sitting amongst the state’s experts behind the prosecutor, could barely contain his laughter, the answer annoyed the prosecutor. ‘Are you a sound expert, sir?’
‘No.’
Nel continued to clarify his question to avoid further games from the witness:
Nel: Have you received training in decibels and sound?
Dixon: The tests that I undertook, where I wielded the cricket bat, was purely to determine whether the sound made by the bat striking the door could in any way be confused with a sound made by a gun being fired.
Nel: You need to be an expert to do that. What expert skills did you use? Wielding a bat?
Dixon: I made a sound.
The tests were done at the shooting range where guests are required to wear ear protection when discharging firearms. But Dixon didn’t wear protection when he struck the door with the bat. ‘I know what the sound of a gunshot at close range is. It is a very loud crack and it can damage the ears. A cricket bat hitting an object does not generate that very loud crack at close range.’
Dixon also conceded that he had not used the actual cricket bat used by Oscar when conducting the experiments.
Once the prosecuting team had had an opportunity to listen to the recording, Nel tackled Dixon on possible manipulation of the tests. ‘I listened to the sounds and on listening to it, I formed the idea that the bat sounds were amplified,’ he said. The background noises of the crickets or frogs had been the giveaway. Nel was referring to the bat sound where the background noises were clearly audible, but this was not the case on the recordings of the gunshots. Did the defence team have the bat recordings amplified to sound as loud as the gunshots? Nel certainly believed so.
Dixon did not testify from a report, nor did the defence provide one to the state when the witness took the stand. Instead, Dixon said he compiled several reports on various subjects and tests that he submitted to counsel. When questioned on this, Roux offered to provide Nel with the various reports Dixon had compiled, but this was an afterthought and in response to questions. Several of these reports were later handed over to the state.
Nel wasn’t satisfied that Dixon would simply come to court – and play the clips – and still not provide a report or any other information to support what had been presented. ‘As far as a scientific expert is concerned, that is enough? The court does not know where you were. The court does not know what recording equipment was used. The court does not know how the door was set up.’ Dixon had not divulged any of this, although Wolmarans presented the court with all these details in his report, which curiously was compiled after Dixon’s testimony.
Unbeknown to the defence team, Nel had got wind that a second round of shooting tests had been conducted at the range. But Dixon did not state this in his evidence-in-chief, and he was forced to reveal to the court that he was not present when the second set of tests was conducted – although Wolmarans was, along with mo
st of the other people at the first test. At the first test the brand-new firearm was jamming, so the shots in quick succession could not be recorded, only single shots.
‘So what was played to court did not happen on one day?’ asked Nel, stunned by what he had just heard. ‘You identified the gun … but you were not present when it was done?’ The prosecutor was now agitated:
Nel: It goes towards integrity of a witness and I am putting it to you, the question is about integrity and nothing else. You identified gunshots and you were not present when they were made. Why would you do that?
Dixon: Because I have heard gunshots.
Nel: No, you cannot get away with that, Mr Dixon. You have been a policeman for many years, you have testified in various courts. Mr Dixon, it is a serious issue for an expert to identify things and he was not present. I am putting it to you, Mr Dixon.
Dixon confirmed that after the failed first test with the firearm he had suggested that the recordings could be digitally edited so that the single shots could be grouped to sound like they were firing in quick succession. It was Wolmarans who decided to conduct the test again, so as to present to the court an unedited sound clip. Of course, this raised questions over the integrity of the witness: why would he even consider submitting as evidence altered audio recordings? Dixon also confirmed that the two men recording the gunshots and bat strikes were not audio specialists, but sound engineers.
Nel was relentless and forced Dixon into what was arguably the most embarrassing and memorable concession of his testimony. The geologist admitted that ‘the instrument’ he had used to test the visibility in Oscar’s bedroom was ‘my eyes’. He attempted to explain that his intention was to see what was visible when he was only using his eyes simply because this was the most relevant aspect to this case.
Nel insisted that this was subjective and Dixon conceded that the ability of a person to see would be subject to conditions such as the state of his or her eyes and whether or not the person was used to being in the dark. In fact, Dixon went as far as to concede that with the curtains open and a full moon in the sky, there was ‘quite a lot of light’ in the athlete’s bedroom. Dixon also didn’t know that, according to the state’s version, Oscar’s balcony light was on and the curtains were open.
During his evidence-in-chief, Dixon had used photographs he had taken during his investigations, with a model posing on his knees in Oscar’s bathroom. By this he had wanted to establish whether or not the Stipps would have been able to see Oscar through the window if he was wearing his prosthetic legs. Under cross-examination Nel established that the man in the photographs would have been 20 centimetres shorter than Oscar when he was on his stumps.
‘It is something I omitted,’ Dixon acknowledged.
Dixon had also looked from the street outside the Stipps’ house, rather than from their actual balcony when he was attempting to establish what the couple could have seen from their home on the morning of the shooting.
And yet, despite the barrage from Nel, Dixon remained confident. In fact, he was so self-assured that he challenged the ballistics evidence of Captain Mangena and the forensic evidence of pathologist Gert Saayman.
Dixon said that according to his calculations, none of the four bullets Oscar had fired had failed to hit Reeva. He also claimed he had managed to detect tiny splinters around Reeva’s hip that Saayman had missed during the autopsy. Dixon had only attended three autopsies in his life, compared to the nearly 15 000 of Saayman, and Dixon had not been present at Reeva’s.
Nel zeroed in on Dixon’s earlier claim that the marks on Reeva’s back had been caused by the magazine rack and not shrapnel. The geologist had suggested that the ‘kinetic energy’ of being hit by a bullet in her hip would have caused Reeva to move backwards, like in movies the prosecutor suggested. But Nel challenged him to try to find any literature to support the theory that a bullet could move someone backwards. Dixon believed that by studying photographs he had identified a bruise on Reeva’s back that Saayman had not picked up.
Nel argued that Saayman had extensively detailed the bruises in his report and, on the back foot, Dixon admitted that his ‘layman’s impression’ was different. He had been snared by Nel’s trap as he acknowledged he was a layperson and not an expert in the field in which he was testifying.
During his testimony Dixon had also claimed that when carrying out the ballistics tests, they were forced to use a different type of ammunition because the so-called Black Talon bullets that Oscar had apparently used were hard to come by. Oscar, however, had disagreed, saying on the stand that he used Black Talons simply because it was the type of ammunition required for his firearm.
In response to this, Sky News correspondent Alex Crawford tweeted: ‘Sky did a test with Black Talon bullets and we were supplied with them within a day.’
While on the stand Dixon told the court that he did not want his testimony to be affected by any external factors, so he had avoided following the trial. He claimed he had no television or radio at his home and he did not read newspapers. But it wasn’t difficult for journalists to unearth his Twitter account. And it was clear from his account that he had been following the first few days of the state’s case, retweeting posts of interest.
Also, on numerous occasions Nel had to repeat his questions because Dixon seemed to be avoiding answering. The prosecutor rephrased his questions to extract a simple yes or no answer, but still the response from the witness was long-winded and often unrelated. Their exchange even became heated, prompting the judge to step in:
Nel: You know I am going to be rude because you do not listen to … the question was, is an expert …
Court: Mr Nel!
Nel: Yes, My Lady.
Court: Please restrain yourself.
Nel: I will, My Lady. May I then through the court, just ask the witness to respond to the question.
Court: Yes.
Nel: And just the question. Did you hear that, Mr Dixon?
Roux had made quite a deal about the need for microscopic analysis of exhibits in order to identify materials positively and match trace evidence collected from different items. The defence advocate had put it to the state witnesses that their own defence experts had conducted such tests, but now Nel challenged these tests.
Dixon said the only fibres he looked at under a microscope were those on the sample cut from the bottom of Oscar’s prosthetic foot:
I compared my physical observation of the fibres that were trapped in the varnish on the door with an examination of the fibres which were stuck on the underneath of the right sole prosthesis.
I did not examine the socks. I did not have them. I saw photographs of those socks being worn on the prosthesis, at the scene.
This wasn’t even close to the scientific rigour Roux had sold to the court several weeks earlier. While Dixon may have observed the fibres on the foot at a microscopic level, the same was not done for the other samples to make the finding.
And there was more. Included in one of Dixon’s reports, which had by now been handed over to the state, were two photographs taken of the door in court several weeks earlier. ‘The lighting in the court when we came to examine the door afterwards, the lighting showed it up very nicely. On previous examinations it did not appear as visible. I could see the fibres. We did not have good pictures. So this was very nice and it was well lit. It shows them up very clearly,’ said Dixon, before admitting he had taken no previous close-up photos of the mark apparently showing the fibres embedded in it.
‘But remember,’ said Nel, ‘when you came into court on 13th of March, there were people cleaning the door? The ladies that clean the court were busy cleaning the door. You were upset. You said how can they clean it, remember?’ The door by that time was no longer a forensic exhibit, and was in the public domain, but Dixon argued that in his experience, often long after the crime, ‘there is always something left over’. His testimony was now bordering on laughable.
‘And you exclude that tha
t could be fibres of a mutton cloth used in cleaning this door?’ Nel was hitting straight at the processes and admissibility of Dixon’s evidence. His tactic was cross-examination 101 – undermine the credibility of the expert witness so that his or her evidence would be inadmissible.
‘My Lady, I did not observe the cleaners putting an excessive amount of energy into cleaning the door, because that is caused by a strong blow … So I stay by my conclusion that those fibres were caused by the sock that was worn on the prosthesis, and not by a cleaner with a mutton cloth,’ he said.
Dixon, of course, hadn’t taken a sample to rule this out.
The geologist was presented with Oscar’s prosthetic leg, the one the athlete wore on the night of the shooting. Nel had asked Roux whether it was appropriate, seeing as it may appear insensitive, but there was no objection. Awkwardly wielding the leg about and peeling off a sock, he pointed out where the sample plastic covering had been cut from its sole. This was the first time the expert had seen the prosthesis in real life. The scene was farcical.
It seems that the only test Dixon conducted that did appear to be sound was a chemical analysis of the varnish removed from the prosthetic leg and the varnish on the door that showed that they were a match. He used a gas-chromatograph at the university’s lab. But did he test the varnish on any of the other wooden doors in the house to exclude that the transfer took place on another door? Dixon had not. Varnish could also have been transferred to the sock, but he didn’t test that either.
Dixon had felt the ignominy of searing cross-examination. He was wounded, fragile and scampering. He had been vociferously ridiculed on social media earning the title ‘ContraDixon’.
‘I was police forensics for 18 years. If you’re an expert witness and you go to court, and our court system is adversarial, that’s one of the things you must expect. I’ve had a lot of support from friends. I said, “Once more unto the breach, dear friends,”’ Dixon told The Guardian after he stepped off the witness stand:
