The elderly lady was terrified, she could not see her attacker, but she could see the large knife and hear his violent shouts.
On an unremarkable morning, the peace of a local community was broken by a terrifying act of violence. A man walked into a bank in Debden High Street, grabbed an elderly woman from behind and held a long-bladed knife to her throat.
He hurled threats at the bank staff who, in response, handed over £4,000. This was an unusually high amount because, contrary to common belief, banks, especially small local branches, don’t hold much cash.
The man was masked so no one got a really good look at his face, and his tracksuit hid his otherwise stocky build.
The robber left the bank, and his terrified victim, and ran off down the high street and into a wooded park area. Police officers were quick to respond and the wood was sealed off. The police helicopter arrived quickly overhead but there was no sign of the suspect.
Then, out of the far end of the wood, a jogger emerged. Dressed in running shorts and T-shirt he was sweaty and out of breath. All very normal perhaps, but not in the circumstances which had shattered the day’s peace. He was approached by the officers who were protecting the wide cordon and searching the wood. They were not happy with his account and he was arrested.
Debden is a community on the border of London and the Essex countryside. Its high street provides for the sprawling leafy community. It had its own station, part of the London Underground network, and a quick link into the heart of the metropolis. The term underground station is a bit of a misnomer, the station and track are elevated high above the ground and passengers travel many miles into London before the tunnel disappears beneath the surface. It’s a quiet place and not used to such acts of violence and certainly not in broad daylight.
Having heard the call on Channel 7, the Met’s main HQ crime radio channel. I made my way quickly to the scene. It would be possible that the local SOCO would get there before me but my interest heightened when I heard that a suspect had been arrested.
Although the remit of the Flying Squad was to investigate all armed robberies at banks, building societies, Post Offices and security vehicles, it was always the local officers who arrived first. Each Squad office had a large area to cover, so it would be the local uniformed officers and perhaps detectives who would take the first steps, but the Squad would take over as soon as it could.
For my part, I could not be in two places at the same time. I was the only SOCO at the north-east London branch office so, in many cases, my divisional colleagues would attend if I was already committed elsewhere. Where the robbery scene may have been dealt with by the local SOCO, I always dealt with any vehicle recovered myself. This was for two reasons. Firstly, because it could be dealt with at a more leisurely pace later. Secondly, vehicles are a great source of evidence and intelligence about the robbery and those who have committed these offences.
Although I may be beaten to the scene by the local SOCO, any slight delay in my response would allow time for me to hear if any suspect had been arrested. Prisoners were a priority for the Squad. Any suspect arrested was a bonus not to be missed.
I quickly got to the scene and reviewed what had taken place. There was little to do at the bank itself, the suspect had been gloved as well as masked, but the public door to the bank would still need examination. If the suspect who had been arrested was the offender, his description had changed from that of a masked, gloved, tracksuited man carrying a knife and a bag containing £4,000, to that of a jogger in a pair of shorts, training shoes and a T-shirt.
I anticipated that a search of the woods would reveal, if we had the right man, a pile of clothing including the mask and the money and knife. By now the description of the mask was that of a dark woolly balaclava. My interest intensified further. So I decided that the suspect should receive my attention. I called on a colleague to examine the bank whilst I went to the local police station where the suspect was being held.
By the time I arrived I got news that a dog handler with his canine assistant had indeed found such a pile. Clothing, money, knife, mask, gloves, it was all there. I gave instructions on how the find should be recovered and a local detective made his way to deal with it. There wasn’t another SOCO available, and officers were trained to deal with such matters. They had been doing so long before the arrival of SOCOs, even if the science was moving on. It was covered.
For the moment I wanted to do one thing and one thing only. Comb the hair of the suspect. Everything else could wait a little longer.
When I arrived at Loughton Police Station, tensions were high. The suspect was still protesting his innocence.
I quickly identified myself to the custody officer, the officer in charge of the prisoner area. There were only local officers there; I had yet to be joined by colleagues from the Squad. A group of uniformed police officers involved in the arrest were also in the charge room. I informed the custody officer that it would very important to obtain a combing of the hair of the suspect and the reasons behind this. We would have to deal with the situation carefully because the suspect had to be informed of his rights in such matters. I didn’t want the suspect to use any lull in the process to try and remove any traces of evidence once he knew what my intention was.
The custody officer’s role is one of the two most demanding roles within the police service. The other one is the role of senior investigating officer, to which I refer elsewhere. The custody officer’s role is governed by the Police and Criminal Evidence Act (1984) and its later amendments. Their role is to manage the detention of persons in police custody. They are not part of the investigation but ensure that the prisoner and their detention are properly managed.
Taking the custody officer to one side, I reminded him, just in case he needed it, of the particular parts within the Act which covered the taking of non-intimate samples.
The Act and the Code of Practice, a small book, was my constant companion. I had highlighted the parts referring to the sampling of a suspect for ease of reference and so I could quickly remind custody officers, inspectors and superintendents of the reasons and authorities required. I found that these busy professionals appreciated the targeted reference as they had many things to consider and an accurate prompt always met a welcome response.
In this case a man had been arrested for armed robbery, which was a Serious Arrestable Offence under the Act. I wanted an immediate head-hair combing. This was non-intimate sample as defined by the Act. It was from the exterior of the body and not from an intimate area. The reason I wanted to take this sample was because I believed that if the suspect was the offender and had worn the mask which had now been recovered, there was a strong chance that it would contain fibres from the mask. It would indicate recent contact, and it could indicate recent wearing.
For this to happen the suspect would have to agree in writing by signing a consent record and we would need the authority of an officer of the rank of inspector. This too was required by the Act. This was to ensure that we were not idly wasting our time and breaching the suspect’s rights. The inspector would have to be convinced that the taking of the non-intimate sample would potentially prove or disprove the suspect’s involvement in the offence. I was happy to advise so. Indeed I was pretty sure that if the mask was woolly as described and, given the prompt arrest and competent sampling, if he were the offender fibres would be found. If there were no fibres, that would be a pretty firm indication that the suspect was not involved. It was quite simple. Other more lengthy examinations might indeed follow, such as comparison of clothing, examination of the knife and money for fingerprints, but they would only conclude the same.
The examination of the suspect’s hair for fibres originating from the mask were, in my opinion and emerging experience, a focused and powerful evidential indicator.
We had to go through the process of first asking for the consent of the suspect himself. However, if the suspect refused we had another card up our sleeves. As this was a Serious Arrestable Offence, a police superintendent could authorise the sample to be taken without the suspect’s written consent. Any force required would have to be applied by police officers and, as a civilian, I would have to be excluded from the sampling as this could constitute an assault for which only police officers were authorised.
There was, however, a difficult problem. Once put to the suspect, he would know our intentions and the potential evidence we were seeking. I prepared myself to take the sample as soon as we had the appropriate consent and authority. When the custody sergeant went into the cell to ask for the written consent I waited outside. Not surprisingly the suspect refused to consent. What he wasn’t expecting was that I had arranged for two officers to sit with him, in order to prevent him trying to wash his hair in the toilet bowl in his cell. However unpleasant that sounds it would not be the first time a suspect has tried to conceal their guilt in such a way. I wasn’t going to give him that opportunity.
The police superintendent in charge of the station arrived quickly and the request made to him to take the samples without the written consent of the suspect. The superintendent was a large Scottish man with a booming voice. To my surprise he needed a little persuading. Either my explanation or his faith in the science did little to convince him. It was true, the taking of a sample by force, if that were needed, would be messy, extremely difficult and probably futile. If the suspect would allow the sample to be taken without a struggle, then I would be best placed and trained to take it. It would just be that he did not consent in writing. With the super’s authority, that would be allowed within the rules of the Police and Criminal Evidence Act (PACE).
However, the superintendent was still uncertain whether the potential to find evidence which would ‘prove or disprove’ the suspect’s involvement was there. In the end I put it as simply as I could. The mask by all accounts was woolly; if the suspect had worn the mask, in my experience there would be fibres in his hair from the mask; if he had not, none would be found. The super was convinced and granted the authority.
Now came the really difficult part of taking the sample. There was every chance that the suspect would struggle and the taking of the sample would be compromised. He was a well-built man. The suspect would be warned in such a case where he refused and no sample was taken that the refusal would be referred to in court and could imply his guilt in the matter. This is because the taking of the sample allows the opportunity to eliminate his involvement.
I briefed a police officer to take the sample. Although I intended to be present, I would not be allowed to help with the act of sampling because of the risk of an accusation of assault. If it came to an out and out fight, I would advise the officers that the sampling should be stopped as ‘bad science’ and I would make my notes and update the custody record accordingly.
The superintendent handled the matter perfectly. He went into the suspect’s cell with the custody officer, closely followed by six burly officers. I waited at the door. The superintendent advised the suspect of his rights and that he had authorised the taking of the sample by force if necessary. He explained that this was allowed within the Police and Criminal Evidence Act. He then gave the suspect a blunt choice. Pointing to the six officers he said, ‘You can choose. Either these six officers will take the sample or,’ and then pointing to me at the rear, ‘this short bald civilian gentleman shall. It’s your choice.’ The suspect glanced along the row of burly policemen and then looked at me. Without a word, and probably fearing a beating, he raised his finger and pointed it to me.
I then quickly set about my task. Opening a hair-combing kit, I quickly put on a pair of gloves and I unfolded a sheet of white paper from within. In one hand, I held the sheet under the man’s head, asking him to nod forward, and with the other hand I drew the comb (containing a moistened lint pad in its teeth) through the man’s hair. Backwards and forwards for a few minutes, I combed his hair over the paper. I finished by putting the seeded comb into the sheet and folding the paper around it. I placed it inside an exhibit bag and sealed and labelled it immediately. It was done. There was no struggle. But all the officers stayed just the same.
The suspect was to later refuse any further examination. We would have liked blood, saliva, urine and head-hair samples but that was not to be.
I held back the examination of the cash, but arranged for the knife to be examined for finger marks at the laboratory. They had a greater range of techniques which I did not have in the field. I also held back on linking the clothing found in the wood to the shorts and T-shirt the suspect was wearing when he was arrested. Finding the stolen money with the knife and woolly hat had associated that find with the robbery scene. I wanted to link the suspect to the woolly hat and by association with the robbery.
So my first and what turned out to be my main submission of material to the lab was simply the woolly mask and the hair combing.
A few weeks later I got a call from the laboratory. The hair-combing sample contained eleven dark fibres, each of which matched and were indistinguishable from those found in the woolly mask.
The subsequent trial lasted less than two days. The hair sampling played a major part in the evidence and at the end of the trial the suspect was found guilty and sentenced to eleven years in prison. I gave my evidence without event. It was accepted. The prosecution counsel remarked to me afterwards that eleven fibres had been found in the offender’s hair, and he had received eleven years. ‘What would have happened if you had recovered more?’ he wondered.