I was in a boxing ring and getting hit by blows from which I could not protect myself. That was how it felt. One of the consequences of working on the Flying Squad for a year or so was the steady stream of court appearances at the Central Criminal Court. I was examining in the region of ten prisoners, arrested by the Squad for armed robbery, every month. That inevitably meant that I could guarantee at least one and probably two or three calls a month to give evidence.
Armed robbery trials are generally heavily contested and attract the hardest-hitting defence barristers to defend their clients from such serious charges.
Taking a case to trial should mean that the investigation has shown there is a case to answer. My work was about establishing the truth, the facts, and leaving the justice bit up to the court.
Invariably, the defence team had done their homework. That was obviously true of the prosecution team too. Barristers can, however, be called away or delayed by other cases. This affects both defence and prosecution and undoes a lot of preparation work. From my perspective lots of hard work went into case preparation and briefing prosecution counsel. It involved getting clear dialogue with them so that they fully understood the case and the work we had done. So when there was a change of counsel the work had to be repeated. In the biggest of cases, where counsel were extensively briefed, a change of court date may be arranged. In smaller cases a replacement counsel could be appointed and brought up to speed at relatively short notice, sometimes only a day before, or even on the first day of the trial itself. On at least one occasion such a prosecution barrister was to ask (in their re-examination) seemingly irrelevant question, clearly because they had not read the case papers, rather than emphasising the evidence in chief. Occasionally whilst giving evidence I would realise that the barrister was placing some emphasis on a weak area of evidence when there was something much stronger available. It is the duty of a witness to answer the questions they are asked, however irrelevant they may seem. On only one occasion have I felt compelled to clarify a point which (from my viewpoint) had been misrepresented by the line of questioning. This may be seen by counsel as interfering, after all they are managing the line of questioning. The witness, particularly the expert witness, has a duty not to leave misleading evidence unaddressed.
The court process is a trial and an examination of evidence. Although employed by the police, it was my duty as a professional to remain impartial and only seek the truth (although giving evidence is a test for the witness too). It is important that evidence is tested so that inaccurate or incomplete evidence is not accepted as fact by the court. I welcomed a rigorous defence examination. Later in my time on the Flying Squad when a trial date was approaching and no defence examination of the exhibits had been requested, I would prompt the officer in the case to call the defence and remind them. It usually saved a lot of running around during the trial and, I felt, served the judicial process better. Later in my career I would observe that where miscarriages of justice occurred, the defence had not been vigorous, they had not tested the evidence and had not asked the questions which they should have. So although cross-examination may be stressful it is important for a witness’s evidence to be thoroughly tested.
Preparation for me involved ensuring I was familiar with my original notes, any submissions I had made to the laboratory and my statements. In giving evidence I would be allowed to refer to my notes but not my statement, once I had asked the presiding judge for permission to do so. I would be asked by the judge when the notes were made. My reply would be ‘at the time of my examination’ as this was always so. What was less pleasant was the questioning of my qualification to give evidence, and my impartiality and allegations of blind loyalty to my police colleagues rather than the truth. Loyalty to the court and to the truth is a little harder to demonstrate.
As a witness most often called by the prosecution it would be the prosecution barrister who would be the first to question me in court. In this way the evidence in chief which counsel would wish to draw out, is given. Then the defence barrister for each defendant (and there could be many) had a chance in turn to cross-examine me. That could be a gruelling experience. Even if my evidence only concerned one defendant, the other defendant’s counsel would use the opportunity to explore the evidence, or lack of it, relating to their client.
On one occasion I was called over to the Finchley Flying Squad office. Their surveillance team had been keeping tabs on a couple of men who they thought were about to commit an armed robbery. Much to their dismay they lost them after they left their flat, only to find out that a bank had been robbed. All they could do was listen to the robbery as it unfolded on the police radio. But the men returned to their flat. They weren’t carrying anything, but the officers were convinced they were involved. A decision was made to enter the flat, arrest them and search for evidence.
By the time I arrived at the office my colleague was dealing with the scene. When the men were arrested, one had just had a shower and was drying himself off and the other was literally getting out of the shower.
The getaway car, the stolen money, masks and guns had yet to be found. But I thought that they may be found together, even at a much later date, depending on where they were hidden. So I suggested that we should get an immediate hair-combing sample from the men in the hope that, if they were responsible, the fibres in the combing would match the masks. This would be great evidence of association if in fact the masks and other items were found in the car.
The fact that both men had showered did not deter me in suggesting the sampling because there had been some published research in the Journal of the Forensic Science Society suggesting that fibres could persist in head hair for days and even after washing.
I went immediately to the police station where the men were being held. A police surgeon was called to take blood samples for grouping and alcohol and drugs examination, pretty standard but not as critical in my mind as the hair combing. In any event the suspects refused to give the blood samples at that time, as was their right, but they agreed to give hair samples, possibly because they knew they could be taken by force if necessary. I used the opportunity to ask the police surgeon to take the hair combing from one suspect whilst I did the other. This would prevent any possibility of contamination and was good practice. He had not taken a hair combing before, so I briefed him and showed him how to take the sample. I had asked for, and got, the authority from a senior police officer to take the samples. The police surgeon seemed pretty happy. So I set about examining my man. I took my time. Overlooked by a detective, I opened the hair combing kits and put on a pair of gloves. I spread out a sheet of paper and then got the suspect to stand over the sheet whilst I combed his hair backwards and forwards with the seeded comb. I placed the comb in the sheet before folding it over to retain all the collected debris. Placing it in a bag and sealing it, I completed my notes. A pretty simple procedure, undertaken with integrity and discipline, I knew it could be a critical piece of evidence. I checked on the doctor’s progress with the other suspect. He had already left and the detective who had been with him showed me the exhibit he had taken. I wasn’t too impressed with the condition of the item; I could see it through the plastic bag. The detective’s words worried me. Apparently the doctor hadn’t taken too kindly to being briefed by a civilian scenes of crime officer, even an informed one. He had taken the combing with one sweep of the hair and some muttered comments before handing the sealed item to the detective and leaving. I suppose I should have been grateful for the fact that he had sealed the item.
I felt there was little I could do. We had had our chance and I would have to await the laboratory examination. With that in mind I arranged for the combings to go straight to the lab. I wanted them out of our possession and in the possession of the lab to prevent any allegations of deliberate contamination or planting of evidence. The lab had to be persuaded to take the items as it was a new case and there were no items to compare them with. I was getting wise to allegations of planting and thought this an ideal opportunity to bury that one in this case, as the masks, stolen money, weapons and getaway car had yet to be found. The lab understood my somewhat unusual submission and accepted the items later the same day.
Sure enough, the getaway vehicle was found, along with the masks and some remnants of the stolen money. A footwear mark was found at the bank where the robbery had occurred and that was compared with shoes found at the suspects’ address. However, it was the hair combing which was to be critical to the case.
When the scientist examined the hair combing I had taken they found a large number of fibres which matched one of the masks. Examination of the combing taken by the doctor from the second suspect showed no fibres found. I was disappointed but this had seemed inevitable given the observation of the detective who witnessed the sample being taken.
Nevertheless my evidence would connect the mask and other items with the suspects who were arrested together after they returned to their flat.
I expected there to be a fight at court, but I didn’t expect what actually turned out. My evidence in chief went pretty well. After all, it was a pretty simple operation. I described how I took the sample. Then came the allegation. It was that I had planted the evidence and was part of a Flying Squad conspiracy to frame two innocent men. It was suggested that I had not properly sealed the item or switched bags so that evidence could be planted by me or my Flying Squad colleagues. Meanwhile, the sample taken properly from the other suspect, by the ‘good doctor’ was negative, implying I was lying and both men were innocent. The doctor was qualified and a pillar of the professional medical community; I had no such protection. The final nail in the coffin of my integrity or credibility as a witness was voiced with damning style. ‘Mr Millen, you are employed by the Metropolitan Police, you are paid by them, you work closely with these detectives, you probably have a beer with them from time to time.’ I mentally nodded. ‘You will say exactly what they tell you to say.’ I was done for and so was the case. The evidence linking the men (together by association) with the masks and stolen goods was strong, but that did not matter. I’m not sure how the other evidence went but the suspects were acquitted. The allegations made against me, although untrue, nevertheless damaged the integrity of the case.
It was a bruising experience, and I realised more than ever that I needed a professional shield, one by which I could demonstrate my integrity and professionalism.
I had been a member of the Forensic Science Society for a few years. The Society was at that time a learned body whose aim was to promote the application of forensic science. Its membership was made up of scientists, academics, medics, lawyers, police and crime scene personnel. It held three scientific conferences each year and I for one had benefited immensely from the interaction with other professionals at such meetings. Not only were the presentations stimulating and informative, but the interaction over dinner and in the bar provided me with a great intellectual resource and a network of professional contacts I hold to this day.
The crime scene had been seen by many scientist and laboratory directors as purely a ‘technician’ exercise; the important and sexy stuff was all done in the lab. That attitude started to change in the 1980s. As forensic science developed so did the crime scene examination part. It was quickly realised by many who had not seen it before that if the scene is dealt with badly there is little the scientist can do to resurrect the case. The presence of many crime scene people at the Society’s meetings encouraged the development, exactly as the aims of the Society wished.
The Society had realised that many practitioners came from the classical scientific areas of biology and chemistry, but there were no vocational qualifications in specialised areas of forensic science. Dr Ray Williams was the President of the Society in the mid 1980s. He had retired as the Director of the Metropolitan Police Forensic Science Laboratory. He was one of the ‘good and great’ of the civil service and forensic science world. He had not been an ardent supporter of the crime scene case whilst director, but I felt that during his presidency he realised its importance and became one of its greatest champions. Having stepped down as president after a two-year term, Dr Williams stayed on the council as Chair of the Professional Awards Committee. He was going to implement a series of professional awards in the forensic science areas of documents and of fire investigation where there were no formal qualifications. Alongside Dr Williams on the committee was Dr Brian Caddy, who acted as secretary. In the years to come Brian was to see this process through and be elected to the presidency of the Society itself. Brian was an academic and senior lecturer in Forensic Science at the University of Strathclyde, rising to professor before his retirement at the beginning of the new century.
One morning in 1988 whilst on the Flying Squad, I got a call from my boss, Mark Godfree, who had called in at the neighbouring Leyton Police Station. There was a letter for me there which had been improperly addressed. I asked him to open the letter and read the contents to me. The contents made me dash to the car and drive to read the letter in person.
It seemed that I must have had a conversation with someone at a Society meeting about the need for a professional qualification in crime scene. There was reference to previous letters, which I had not received. The upshot was that the Society intended to set up a diploma in crime scene examination and I was invited to join the committee. Then came the shock. The first meeting of the committee was going to be held that very day at two pm at the Home Office Forensic Science Laboratory in Birmingham. It was already ten am. I didn’t hesitate. I could not miss the opportunity and I wanted to be there at the very beginning. I spoke to my boss. I’m not sure if it was a request or a statement, but within a few minutes I was on my way to Birmingham. I arrived with just fifteen minute to spare.
The Birmingham laboratory was hidden away in an industrial area of the inner city. From outside you would have no idea what went on behind the grey 1950s building. Parking was a nightmare and the amount of broken windscreen glass on the streets indicated that crime went right up to the doorway.
I entered the building to a different world. I was expected and was shown to the meeting room on the first floor. The others were already present. I immediately recognised Bob Wayment, a SOCO 1 from the Met who I quickly realised had put my name forward. Dr Williams was there and Dr Caddy and I addressed them formally. I remember being in awe of them and it took many months before I could call either by their first names. Eddy Marchant, a chief superintendent from Durham Constabulary, was there with Chris Jordison, an inspector at the Scientific Aids School at Durham. Durham Constabulary had a long history of support for the Society.
The meeting was very fruitful and we quickly set about defining the need and establishing a process for recognising professional standards in crime scene. Bob Wayment was appointed the Secretary to the Crime Scene Examination Diploma Committee, as it was then known. Within the year Bob decided to join the police force proper so I jumped at the chance and took over. My enthusiasm for the project was obvious and with the encouragement of Drs Williams and Caddy and support of the others I knew this was going to work. In the months that followed there was one change which I insisted upon. It was a change in name for the diploma. Crime Scene Examination wasn’t good enough and didn’t reflect the integration within the investigative process which was emerging. The science which I was practising and which I believed had a greater need and benefit went beyond pure examination. It reflected the review and analysis of the answers which the science gave within the overall investigation. There was a gap, or at least the danger of one, between the police detective and the forensic scientist. I considered that this may have been organisational, an outcome of the environment in which I worked, but the more I looked the more I realised that this was not just about job roles, this was about investigation practice. I put a case for the diploma to be in Crime Scene Investigation. It was a little-known and unused term at that time. That was to change in the following years, as our imagination and that of the general public, fuelled by television, was to engage.
The diploma was founded to test and encourage the development of crime scene investigators. The process was developed to involve examinations in theory and practical application. There was also an interview for the candidate in front of a panel of examiners of which one was a crime scene specialist. The other two members of the panel were from other areas of the Society and could be a forensic scientist or an academic. This was to ensure the roundness of the applicant. It is difficult to test ethics but throughout the process the candidate would have to face difficult questions and dilemmas, the answers to which would demonstrate their professionalism and impartiality. This was not only about what evidence they would find but equally, if not more importantly, how they would look, and what the answers meant and what they would do with them.
The diploma had strength because it was awarded independent of employment. This was not in-house accreditation but an award by the Society and its varied membership within the sciences and professions. A key challenge for me was to ensure that any aspects of practice specific to one or only a few organisations were not accepted to the disadvantage of other candidates. Many organisations develop practice to meet their own needs, but this is organisational plumbing and not reflected in other places undertaking the same work. So there was a need to strip off practice and perhaps procedures and look at the basics of integrity, sound practice and underpinning knowledge and values. This became even more important when the diploma received interest from the Society’s overseas membership. The legal environment in which the candidate worked would vary. Although aspects of law could not be specifically tested, the candidate needed to demonstrate that they understood the legal framework in which they worked and the implications to the evidence which they sought and presented.
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’.
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.