Sexual Assault

After reading the 'Jizz Inspectors' by Sue Carney - http://www.lilaclounge.me/, it reminded me of a scene that I had attended. I haven't yet blogged about rape or sexual offences.

It's difficult to say how common this type of offence is. I work for a large force, and like other crimes, we see a larger number of rapes than a smaller force would.

I was on call on this particular day and had got home at about 2330 hours. I often work over on a late shift. There's no one to hand work to if you haven't had time to finish it.

I hadn't eaten properly during my shift, unless you count the two Fox's Custard Creams that is.

My better half had made dinner earlier in the evening and had set some aside for me. I flicked the switch on the kettle, and put my bowl of food in the microwave.

I made tea.

I sat down and put the television on. I find it difficult to go home and go straight to bed, I need time to switch off and shut down.

After a few episodes of QI on Dave, I went to bed at about 0145 and went straight to sleep.

I was dreaming about the Royal Wedding when I was rudely awoken by my iPhone vibrating and ringing, getting louder and louder.

I'd imagine that only a second had passed, but in this time I thought it was my alarm clock, and it was time to get up. Then I thought I was in the house I use to live in. Then I thought, don't ask why, that I was in fact ringing someone myself.

"Hello" I said in a panicked voice.

"CSI Guy it's CSI Supervisor, you ok?"

"I'm sweaty" I said. I'm sweaty!? What on earth possessed me to say that? This was a supervisor I hadn't even met! She didn't really know me.

"Too much information" She said with a giggle.

"Um, yea, uh, sorry, what can I do for you?"

She then went on to explain the details of the call out, the DS who wanted a phonecall from me when I got in, and the log number and address of the job. The supervisor will often ask if I have a pen, I always say yes and pretend to write things down, reading out loud what I am meant to be writing down.

"Seevvveen, Plannnt Streeeeet"

The thing is, the job will be a piece of cake to find on the system when I get to the nick, so writing this down now is pointless. I always read the log to ensure nothing has been missed, the information often goes through three or more people before I get the phone call. It does no harm in spending ten minutes when I get in to double check everything.

I hung the phone up and walked back towards the bedroom, where my uniform was.

I looked at the clock. It was only 0226, I'd been in bed for no more than 41 minutes. It had felt like I had slept for hours. I mean, in my dream, I had been to Westminster and back!

I had a quick shower and got changed. I was in the office within twenty five minutes.

The scene was inside. It's unusual to get a call out to an indoor scene. If it's indoors, it can usually be preserved until 0700 when the other CSIs come on duty. This avoids unnecessary overtime.

For one reason or another, it was decided that I was needed at the scene sooner rather than later.

A rape was reported to have taken place at an address on the other side of the City. There was a bobby on scene guard at the front of the property.

There is always an urge to get scenes processed as soon as possible, not as quickly as possible. The problem with rushing in and scooping everything up is that it can can mean that if something comes to light later on, it may be too late to change the way the scene is processed.

Some scenes can often be processed the same way, burglaries for example. I go in, have a short talk with the victim and crack on. Fingerprint everything the offender has/may have touched, take items for chemical treatment and look for other forensic opportunities.

With a rape, the full circumstances need to be obtained before I go and start the scene. This if for many reasons, reasons that probably don't need explaining here.

I had a full brief on the circumstances from the DS.

I checked that I had a condom module kit or two in the van- I did. I grabbed a few other bits that may come in useful.

The condom module kit comes sealed. There's a sterile plastic tub and lid. When the lid clicks down, it can't be removed without breaking the seal. There's a blue clip to put on the open end of the condom and a tamper evident bag to put everything in for transport.

The clip is like the sort of thing you clamp around your bag of peas for the freezer, only smaller. It keeps fluid on the inside, inside; and the fluid on the outside, outside.

I drove to the scene, past a football ground. The area around the football ground is eerie. I don't like it. The plus side is, there's a CCTV camera on each street corner. I don't like football.

I got to the scene within about fifty minutes of the call. The bobby had been there for about two hours at this point. He knew very little. About the scene that is. I'm sure he knew lots about other things.

I opened the front door and walked in, it stank. I couldn't put my finger on the smell, I don't think I wanted to.

I walked into each room, one at a time, making notes.

The kitchen, or the room that was meant to be the kitchen, was full of rubbish. I get grief when I leave a plate next to sink overnight- "It washes easier if you do it straight away..." She moans.

This place was something else. The only way this place would be clean is if a team of five gutted it out and started again.

It turns out the property was residence for a lone male. The property however was meant to be empty. I think there was some discrepancy over ownership. That was what we were being told anyway.

The downstairs living room had a single bed in one corner. There was a small coffee table next to the bed with various pieces of debris on it. There were magazines everywhere, old magazines. I saw something dated 1996.

I went through the upstairs rooms. They were full of boxes and inside the boxes were possessions. They look like possessions of an elderly person. I thought that maybe the old occupant of the property had passed or moved away. Irrelevant anyway, the offender wasn't elderly.

The bathroom was at the front of the house. It was dark, the light didn't work. The light tends to blow in the bathroom more than anywhere else in a house. I have no idea why. I know that's where I'd want a light. I used my crime lite to look around. The bright white light caught something in the bowl, it was a mix of faeces and paper. I held my breath.

The offender wasn't in custody. I had to gather evidence to be used when he was arrested. This was his residence, if you could call it that, I had to collect the evidence before he returned. The officer was there to make sure I was safe and to arrest the offender should he return. Someone's got my back.

Once I made my notes, I went back to the van. It was nice to walk into the cold night air. I had a slight sweat on. I think it's because my body knew I was meant to be in bed.

I took the gloves I had on, off. I was about to touch my camera, I didn't want anything from the house on my camera. I put two new pairs on. This meant that if I touched something dirty, I could take that glove off and still have gloves on. It makes my hands wrinkly though.

I went back into the house and took photos of each room. I take the photos so that anyone viewing the album feels like they are 'walking' through the scene. If I photograph something of interest, I will take a general shot to show it's location in the scene and then a slightly closer shot and then a close up shot using my macro lens. My macro lens shows an immense level of detail. I can take a photo so close, that the item will fill the frame.

Once I had finished the photographs I went outside. The officer was just as bored as when I had arrived. Up to this point, I had probably been there for at least an hour already. The officer had a small supply of bottled water, it was a welcome gift. I took a few minutes outside having a drink of water and talking about allsorts.

I thought to myself, "I hope he doesn't ask me about football" I haven't got a fricking clue.

We finished our chit chat and I got ready to collect evidence. I put a white suite on at this stage. This was for two reasons. The first, the property was a hole. I wanted to go home without any of the house left on my clothes. Secondly, I was going to be looking for used condoms now. I don't fancy spermatozoa on my work boots.

I had a mask on at this point as I would be close to evidence that could contain DNA. I don't want the FSS to identify me as the offender. That'd be a career buster.

The single mattress had no bed sheets on it. It had a variety of stains all over it. There's two ways of recovering these stains. I could cut the top of the mattress off and bag it up, or I could just take the whole thing. We have bags for mattresses.

I turned it over, initially to search underneath. When I looked at the underside, there was a large stain. It was a body fluid but not the obvious one. This stain gave cause for concern, this meant the mattress had to be seized, in it's entirety.

I can't get a mattress into a bag alone. I went and spoke to the bobby and helped him into a scene suit. It took us a few minutes but we managed it, though it was a bit like an episode of The Chuckle Brothers.

We struggled down the hallway and outside to the van. It was the early hours of the morning but I could still see people watching us. There was one female across the street in a first floor window. There was a net curtain, that she thought kept her from view. I could see her, watching. I wonder what she thought was in this large bag.

The Officer kept his suit on after that and stood at the door. Maybe he thought I may need his help again, maybe he liked the suit?

I searched the upstairs rooms and recovered a couple of items of clothing. These items could belong the victim. They were in my photos, to show the location.

I didn't find anything in the kitchen, amongst the piles of rubbish. I find searching rubbish both interesting and disgusting at the same time, you can tell a lot about someone by looking at their rubbish.

This guy loved chicken, KFC in particular.

Chicken bones, mayonnaise, sweetcorn, tissues, boxes, receipts, crisp packets, tea bags and a sock, a sock? There's always rubbish that you can't figure out what exactly it is.

I got to the hallway and the understairs cupboard. There were two black bin liners of rubbish, I opened the first and started to sort through it. Luckily, there was an unused bucket next to them. I put the things I wasn't interested in into this.

I wonder when the bins were last collected? Are the bin men on strike? Is this guy on strike? There was weeks worth of rubbish here.

I'd gotton used to the smell by now, this wasn't an issue. There was the odd fly that wanted to know what was in the bag too. Probably hungry, there was plenty for him to eat. I worked my way through the rubbish, I thought it was going to be a wasted task. It wasn't.

I quickly found a torn condom wrapper, things are looking good. There's got to be a condom in here somewhere, right?

Halfway down, on the side of a KFC Pepsi Max cup was a used condom. I removed a pair of gloves and took a close up photo of the condom's location.

I fastened the blue clip over the end of the condom and placed it delicately into the container. I clicked the lid down and put it into the tamper evident bag and then sealed it.

Now, I didn't know which rubbish bag was the most recent. Just because I had found a condom and wrapper, I still had to look through the rest. I worked my way through both bags. This took some time, but in total I found four condom wrappers and five condoms.

The incident I was investigating was one act of sexual intercourse. Where were these other condoms from? A girlfriend? One night stands? Other victims?

I found the last wrapper in the beans tub, inside a KFC box, inside a carrier bag.

No stone unturned.

I gathered all of the evidence together and loaded the van. I carefully took my suit off, ensuring that the outside of the suit didn't touch me, or my clothes. I put that into a brown bag I had made for rubbish and then took my gloves off, turning them inside out as I did. Gloves are always last off.

I did one last sweep of the place to ensure I had everything that belonged to me and headed off.

It only took my a short while to get everything written up and a report filed. The condoms went in the freezer.

I headed home just as the first early crew were coming in the door. Time for bed and probably Westminster again.

CSI Guy

Cup of tea?

I was on late shift, 1400-2200, I got into the office slightly early as I needed to sort a few things out.

I only had one job to go to, which is unusually a quiet start to the shift. I knew I had to get some statements typed up and sent out for a couple of serious jobs I'd attended recently. One related to a murder investigation, the DC had asked me to complete it as soon as possible. The album of photographs had already been on my desk for three days.

I like looking at my photos in print. Although the photo lab had put one of my photos in on the wrong alignment. That bugs me. I like things to be right.

It only took me an hour or so to get the statements sorted and the albums exhibited for court.

I left the office for the burglary on another division. The bobby at the job had point to pointed (ptp) me for advice.

The airwave radios we use allow us to have a personal conversaion between two users. This avoids taking up space on the normal channel, the control room can continue to despatch officers to other jobs. This is known as point to point.

It turns out the offender had been disturbed by the occupants and had run through gardens to get away. In the panic and fence hopping, the offender had dropped his woolly hat.

Bonus.

The Forensic Science Service work very hard to abstract DNA from items such as hats for me, well, us.

I gave some advice to the officer about how to recover the hat and how to preserve any DNA for me.

When I got to the address, the officer had already moved off to the next job. I fingerprinted a number of the things, including the point of entry and the games console cases dropped in the garden.

I was stood in the kitchen when the occupant offerred me a cup of tea. I could see the state of the kitchen, it wasn't like my kitchen. "No thanks, I don't drink hot drinks" Which was a complete lie. A white one however.

I quickly became aware of very distinctive glove marks. Its always disappointing. I double check that the occupants havent worn gloves inside for any reason. I never stop fingerprinting straight away when I find glovemarks, for two reasons.

The first reason, there may be more than one offender, the second offender may not be wearing gloves. It happens, a lot.

The second reason, demonstrated very well by an Officer recently. When you are weaing gloves, performing certain tasks can become difficult. It only takes one slip of the mind, to whip a glove off and complete the task without the hassle of a glove.

At this particular address, the offenders weren't inside for very long and had touched very little. I found glovemarks on all the items they handled. I sealed the wolly hat up and left.

I was passed another job to photograph a poor old chap at the local hospital who had an argument with an axe. Well, the argument was with the person holding the axe, which was repeatedly struck on his head. Blade side.

He'd been on the ward for a couple of days.

I don't like hospitals. They are full of germs. The parking is a nightmare too. I found a large box which said, NO PARKING. I parked there. I checked in with Security, who confirmed that space was often used for the 'likes of you'. The likes of you? What did he mean by that? Smile and walk away CSI Guy.

I got to the ward and spoke with some lovely nurses on the ward reception desk. They had a little joke about my Hummer and CSI:NY. I made a joke about Holby City. They asked if I wanted a cup of tea. Two offers in one day.

Now, tea at the hospital was likely to be a good idea. it would probably be in a disposable cup, which hadn't been used before and was likely to be from a machine. It would also be made by a nurse, who wouldn't do anything untoward. I didn't have time though. Injury photographs take no time at all. I told them I'll come back for the tea another day.

I'll add that ward to the list of tea stops.

The gent with the head injuries was sleeping. The nurse woke him up to take his blood pressure reading so I got in straight after that. I took a number of photos, one of his head and shoulders, so when we look at the album in months to come, we know who it it. I then took a number of close up photos of the injuries with a scale. I used my macro lens.

I enjoy taking photos, they're normally not of stapled head wounds though.

I had another two burglaries to go to after the hospital. They were both next to each other in a block of flats.

I had heard of the estate before, I knew where it was but hadn't been there yet. It's on a different division to where I normally work. I parked outside and I wasn't impressed. It looked horrid.

I got my van from the back of the van and walked towards the front door. Beer cans littered the pathway outside, there was a used condom and a distinct smell of Cannabis coming from an address nearby.

This will be fun, I thought.

I knocked at the door which swung open, it had been broken in during the burgalry. I saw a figure approach the porch door through the marbled glass. The door was opened by an eighty year old female. She was a lovely person. Her flat was tidy, clean and had lots of photos of grandchildren. One showed a young lad with a vest and shorts on at a sports day.

She saw me look at it, and said "That's Tommy. he's twelve now. He won that race"

It looked like the offenders had picked the whole flat up, shook it and dropped it back down again. There were things everywhere. She had kept coins in coffee jars in the wardrobe. She had sorted the coins into denominations in each jar. She had placed a small amount of kitche towel in the bottom of each jar. One jar had been smashed, there was glass all over the bed.

She offerred me a cup of tea and a sandwich. She reminded me of my gran. Her flat was a mess, her valuables had gone and she was alone, yet she wasn't worried about that. She wanted to make sure I was looked after. I agreed to the cup of tea, with one sugar but politely declined the sandwich. I couldn't eat her food as well as drink her tea.

She told me that she had been burgled three times including this occassion. She had toughened to it. She said "Those buggers are lucky I wasn't here, I would have given them what for with my stick"

I laughed with her.

Good thing is I left with lots of fingerpints and some items for chemical treatment.

CSI Guy

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Arson

It seemed like I hadn't been to an arson scene for months, in fact it was only seventeen days.

I had spent two nights a few months ago with the local Fire and Rescue Investigation Team. When I say team, I mean one. We'll call him Barney McGrew. No, No, we'll call him Sam. Yes, Sam. There is a number of Investigators on the 'team' but they often work solo, passing at shift change. Unfortunately when I spent two nights with Sam, fourteen hours each night, we didn't get a single job.

I read every Fire Brigade issue magazine going. Twice.

I am lucky enough to be able to investigate suspicious fires and arsons within my force area as a CSI. If a fire is obviously arson, then I will be the only investigator who will attend. If the cause is unknown, but suspicious, then I will attend along with a member of the Fire Investigation Team.

The initial decision on the cause of the fire will often lie with the fire crew who attend. If there is accelerant used or there is more than one seat of fire, then it's clear. It's deliberate. I'll be going.

I like to have everything I may need at a scene so I've put together a toolbox for fire scenes. It contains different bits and pieces for sifting through debris, removing fixtures and fittings and assisting with recovery of evidence. I keep this in my van and I allow my van partner to use it. I made him promise that if it gets dirty, he cleans it and if he removes something, he replaces it!

I'd heard the job come over the radio when the control room despatched officers to the scene:

"Control to Sierra Sierra One One, over"

"Go 'Head"

"Immediate response to 12 Camberwick Green, fire, persons reported"

"En route, over"

Persons reported isn't something you want to hear. It means that people are trapped inside. We race to the scene, but often there isn't a lot we can do to get people out of burning houses. That's Trumpton's job and they're very good at it. A lot of the time the Fire Brigade arrive before the Police as they will be passed the emergency call first.

The job went on for an hour or so from the initial call. Luckily, everyone was out and not hurt. A couple of the family members were taken to hospital for smoke inhillation, but that's as serious as it got.

It turns out it was arson. Two seats of fire and an accellerant was used, which meant I would be riding solo on this one.

Because I was listening to the job as I was busying myself at burglaries, I knew that I was going to get called. The officers at the scene hadn't asked for me yet, but I knew that when supervision attended, it would be one of the first things they'd request.

Arsons can take a long time to investigate, some last days. I hadn't eaten during this shift yet so I popped back to the nick. I had four salami and ham sandwiches in the fridge. Cut diagonally and wrapped in tin foil. Brown bread.

I have a litre thermos flask too. I filled it with hot water whilst I ate my sandwiches.

Whilst I was in the office, I had a look at the arson incident on the computer. Its always nice to read as much into the incident before your attend. There may be things on the incident that officers at the scene may miss or forget to pass on.

Half way through my second sandwich:

"Control to CSI Guy, over?"

"Go ahead control"

"Officers are at a scene of an arson and requesting you, over"

"Is that 12 Camberwick Green, over?"

"Yes Yes CSI Guy"

"No problems, ETA fifteen minutes, over"

I made a coffee in the flask and grabbed my clipboard.

I put the address in the Sat Nav and off I went.

When I arrived, I could see two fire tenders. There were a few firemen standing around. I wanted to see what I had to deal with before I got kitted up. I grabbed my clipboard from the passenger seat and walked towards the property.

As I got out of the van, I could feel the cold. It was dark, with orange streetlighting here and there.

There were three fire hoses trailing towards the property.

I could hear the radio in the fire trucks, giving out mainly static and white noise, the truck's engines were running, it was a noisy scene.

There were trails of water running across the pavement, desperately trying to find the nearest drain.

There were people on the balconies of nearby flats, stood watching.

I spoke to the chief fire officer who nodded towards the flat as he said "That's the one up there, my guys are standing by"

The Fire Brigade wanted to gut the flat, taking away all of the burnt material. This prevents the fire starting again from anything that may be smouldering away.

It turns out that the ex partner may have started the fire deliberately as way of revenge for the split. The split was three years ago.

An old school CSI once told me "It'll boil down to one of two things son, sex or money." I guess if you think about it, most things can be attributed to both.

Come to think of it, Jeremy Clarkson once said "Money and rumpy-pumpy are the twin engines powering everything we do"

Its decided. They're both right.

I love fire scenes, absolutely love them. Each one sets a different challenge.

The fire had been extinguished at this job, there were Police Officers speaking to neighbours and taking statements nearby. Turns out the ex partner hadn't been at the property for a few weeks, though they were still in touch.

My job was to establish how and where the fire had started and identify any offenders. Regardless of what I know, I must remain open minded about who or how this had happened.

I put a white suit on and some boot protectors. This was more to protect my clothes from soot than anything else.

The first thing I do, as with most serious or major crime jobs, is to document the scene as I find it. I did this with photographs, long, mid and close up photos.

Arsons tend to be very dark, for two reasons. The first is, the walls and ceilings tend to be burnt and covered in soot, the second, the electricity is normally damaged and off, so no lights.

One seat of fire was in the living room, beside the sofa. The sofa had been reduced to a wire frame with a yellow and orange mess in the middle. There was a mark on the wall in the shape of a letter V, this is known as a plume pattern- the V shape forms above a fire. The closer the fire, the narrower the V shape is, so these patterns can sometimes look like a letter U.

There are other fire patterns that help identify the development and spread of a fire, which I noted down.

I placed some photo markers in various places to help identify areas of interest, they also help the viewer of photos to get an idea of the layout of the property. If I get a number six photo marker in one shot, and then the next, It shows how each view relates to the other.

I always use a tripod, it's fiddly but more than worth it. I know some CSIs would hand hold the camera, but I wouldn't. I like using a flash extension cord, this allows me to effectively direct the flash and avoid shadows.

I photographed what I determined to be the seat of the fire, where the fire started. I indicated an area much bigger than required, to ensure when I start excavating the debris, I don't miss anything. This is known as the radius of error.

Once I had taken general scene photographs, I made some thorough notes.

I went to the van to get my tool box. It was nice to get some fresh air, it gets so warm in fire scenes, the heat builds up in the building. I took the opportunity to get a cup of coffee from my flask. I run on coffee.

I stood at the back of my van, between the two open doors to give me a little shelter from the prying eyes. People often see me and know who I am. Not because they actually know me, but because they know I'm the CSI.

There were still neighbours watching from the balconies.

I put a new suit on and went back in. I excavated the seats of the fire and recovered a sample of debris for accelerant analysis. Anything with accelerant on needs to be packaged correctly, we use nylon bags as these prevent accelerant leaking through the bag. Normal polythene bags would let accelerant through.

The exhibit is double bagged in nylon bags and sealed.

Accelerant analysis can be completed on an offender's clothing also.

I also recovered a partially burned newspaper, that days newspaper. It didn't belong to the occupant, so it may have been left by the offender.

Excellent.

I packaged this into a rigid box to enable me to safely transport it back to the office, the paper was fragile, but may hold some fingerprints.

I spent just over two hours inside the property, the photography took half an hour alone.

It was a busy scene with lots to interpret, fire scenes hold lots of information and evidence. Most people think that fire destroys evidence- not true. A lot of the time, the nature of a fire can protect a lot of evidence.

Hanging

I've been busy over the past few months and have neglected this blog somewhat. I apologise.

We've all been busy with a variety of jobs, mostly serious jobs. There's been a strange increase in the number of dead people recently. We blamed it on the full moon at first, then the snow.

I'm going to share my experience of a suicide by hanging.

Most forces insist on CSIs attending all suicides. There's two reasons, the first is that we can ensure that it is suicide. The second is that the scene needs to be recorded for the coroner.

If an inquest is held into the death then the scene will be an important aspect, as it is in any criminal investigation.

We have a new van at work at the moment. Just the one. Its on trial. If we like it then we'll have some more. The van that I share with my colleague is on it's last legs so I took the new van out.

I had a list of burglaries to go to, we call them BDH's and BOB's. Burglary Dwelling House and Burglary Other Building. I had printed the logs out and was on the way to my first job.

I got a call over the radio to ask me to attend a hanging. This would be my first hanging on my own. I'm not sure if excited is the right word, but my professional curiosity was certainly peaked.
I happily accepted the job. I stopped the van and opened the back doors. It was a new van and I was unsure as to what kit was in the back. I had a good rummage and checked I had everything I needed for a suicide.

I changed the destination in my Sat Nav. Twenty three minutes. Driving through the City is a nightmare at anytime of the day. I like to watch other drivers and silently criticise their driving. Every now and then I'll inhale deeply and say "Ooo" whilst exhaling.

Brief details were given over the radio by attending officers. I knew that the deceased person was male and had been found by a relative.

The correct procedure for any incident of suicide is that officers should secure the scene and request attendance of CSI. Sometimes, CID will attend or at the very least, a supervisor from uniform will attend.

Its very important to go to any incident of suicide with an open mind. I will listen to the views and opinions of attending officers, but it's vital to interpret the scene myself. It would be a very embarrassing error to decide a death is a suicide to later find out it is a murder. It'd also probably mean the loss of a lot of evidence.


There was something in the news recently whereby someone has confessed to murdering his estranged wife and police officer partner some 20 years ago. It appears that the scene presented itself as a suicide by carbon monoxide in a car. The offender in fact gassed both victims, dressed them and transported them to the 'scene' in the boot of a car. Have a look here for more information.


As I approached the garden path I could see there was a police officer stood at the front door. The relative had been taken away to be spoken to further.

An Ambulance Crew had been to confirm the male was deceased. The term often used is 'Life Extinct'. I don't like this, I think it's cold. I try never to refer the deceased person as a 'body' either. If I know their name, I'll use it. Its polite and it's respectful.

As I walked onto the path, I could smell the distinct smell of decomposition. The front door was slightly ajar.

The police officer appeared to be on his own. He held a scene log in his hand. Officers in my force are pretty good at securing a scene when a body is found. They'll start a scene log too. This is where everything that happens at the scene is recorded. Who has gone in, who has gone out and more importantly why.

Some higher ranking officers have a liking in my force to believe a scene is theirs and they can come and go as often as they like, touching, sniffing and pondering. I have no idea why, especially the sniffing.

I did have a warmed (as opposed to a heated) discussion with a Police Inspector a few weeks back. It was also a suicide. There were a few unanswered questions about some injuries on the deceased's body. The scene had to be preserved in case there was foul play.

The Inspector wanted to go 'have a look'. I politely declined his offer. It wasn't an offer, it clearly wasn't an offer. He knew that, I knew that. He wanted to know why he couldn't go in. I explained he needed to wear a white suit. "I've got gloves on." he said. I passed him a suit and explained he wasn't going into the room unless he was wearing that. Ten minutes later he joined me inside, fully suited.

I digress.

I spoke to the Police Officer at the door who explained what had occurred at the property prior to my arrival. He gave me a run down whilst I put on a protective suit and overshoes. I wear two pairs of gloves at jobs with deceased bodies. An experienced CSI told me why. If I need to move or touch anything with bodily fluids on, and then go back to my camera, I can take the outer pair of gloves off and still have a pair on. It works well. Body bits don't mix with a Nikon.

A relative had found the deceased male after visiting him and getting no answer at the door. This is one of the common ways of suicides being found.

People who commit suicide can be very resourceful when they have an idea in their mind. I've seen some very inventive methods since this one. I've also been to some rather strange ones.

I gave my details to the Police Officer at the front door. The door had been opened from the inside by the Paramedics to allow easy entry. The deceased male was against the hallway door. It was difficult to get through from the back.

As soon as I approached the door, I could smell it. I hadn't smelt it like this before, it smelt like pickles. I like pickles.

No, I liked pickles.

I opened the door, looking at the lock and frame for any signs of damage or forced entry. None.

I could see personal possessions about the room. Mobile, wallet, watch and an amount of cash. This male hadn't been robbed.

This male had hung himself from the top of the living room door using a belt. The belt and buckle was around his neck at one end. The other end had a knot in it. The knotted end was passed over the top of the door and the door closed. The belt was thin enough to pass over the closed door, the knot stopping it from pulling through.

Contrary to popular belief, you don't have to be off the ground to hang yourself. Partial hanging is just as common as complete hanging. Hanging is the constriction of the neck by a ligature, tightened by the weight of the body. This can be achieved in a number of ways.

One thing any investigator may note when attending the scene of a complete hanging is the victim's tongue may be protruding. Due to the weight of the body, and sometimes the force applied in the 'fall' of a hanging, the constriction around the neck can force the tongue out of the mouth. Once decomposition begins, and the tongue is exposed to the environment for a period of time, the tongue becomes discoloured. Often it is black.

This male's tongue was big and black and sticking out of his mouth.

After a thorough visual examination, I came to the conclusion that he had jumped from furniture (which was underneath him) with the belt around his neck. This provided to force to make the tongue stick out. Then over a matter of days, the weight on the belt and the door was enough to make it slip. The knot pulled through the top of the door.

The heating was on in the house and it was hot. I had my normal uniform on, plus a protective suit. The suit, by design, has no ventilation. I'm not unhealthy, but I was sweating. I had to wipe my forehead a few times.

I took photographs of the scene, showing every room in the house. There were tablet and prescriptions in one room. I took photos of these. At this stage I can't tell if the male had taken tablet prior to hanging himself. There weren't many missing however. There was a receipt from a local pharmacy, it was only four days old.

The male had decomposed quicker than normal. It's likely the heat in the house was the main contributing factor to this.

I had to ensure that the male had no injuries about his body. I also needed to check pockets for personal belongings.

I had to straighten him out slightly, he was in an awkward position. I took hold of his arms at his wrists. I tried to pull his torso towards me, almost into a sitting position. The skin on his arms moved, his arms didn't.

I was going to need assistance.

I opened the front door and the bobby looked at me, I said "Are you busy?" I caught him unaware, he looked around, desperately trying to find an excuse. He couldn't.

"Can you just give me a quick hand in here?"

"Uuu, erm, yea, sure"

This is my job, I 'enjoy' working out what has happened and how this male has ended up this way. It's not the bobby's job. He likes chasing bad guys and locking up criminals. I explained what I needed him to do, and asked if he was OK with it. I explained that if he wanted to stop at any point, then just say.

I gave him the key to the van and told him where to find the suits. He got to the van "Are there any extra larges?" He said. "Top shelf, in blue" I replied.

We straightened the deceased male out, rolled him onto his left side. The bobby held him there whilst I checked his pockets and lifted his clothing to check for injuries. None. Onto the other side and the same again. None.

The bobby stayed in the suit for a while, watching me whilst I finished with some close up photos. He asked a few questions. Decent questions, not "Do you do Weddings?"

I don't mind dead bodies. In the short time I've been a CSI, I have lost count already as to how many I have encountered. I will try to recall each and see if I can come up with a number, another time. I don't mind the smell of most things; decomp, blood, urine or faeces. I have however found that I'm not too fond of vomit.

I was looking at some Journals the other day at work, and discovered interestingly that the UK has a low Suicide rate. The most recent figures I could source were from the Office of National Statistics and were dated 2008. Per 100,000 of population, The UK had a suicide rate of 6.1, Lithuania had a rate of 28.4 (the highest) and Cyprus had a rate of 2.2 (the lowest).



Now, back to that list of BDHs and BOBs I had at the start of the shift.

Murder

I came on duty at 0640 on a Sunday morning, booked on duty and sat at my desk.

I opened my emails, I had a few to get through. I had been off for four days. I often get email requests for statements, usually for volume scenes I had attended whereby an offender had been identified (an 'Ident') from the evidence I recovered.

I recently reached fifty Idents since February. Fifty separate offenders identified from the evidence I collected at scenes. I love it. I don't remember all of their names, but I hope some of them remember mine when my statement is read to them.

I was the first one in that morning. I had put coffee in the cafetiere and it was brewing on my desk. I like the smell of coffee in the morning. Another CSI came in just before 0700.

I was working my way through my emails, deleting some and flagging others to deal with later, when the phone rang. It was another CSI office, where a supervisor was. CSI Man answered the phone, he is a Crime Scene Manager (CSM)

CSMs manage major scenes, attend strategy meetings and coordinate multiple scenes. They make all the big decisions, which makes major scenes easier for normal CSIs as all the decisions have already been made.

The phone call was to ask CSI Man to attend a murder scene and take me along to assist.

We had to go straight out. CSI Man asked me to get a few things together that we'd probably need at the scene.

The incident had happened in the early hours and another CSM had originally attended the scene to secure fragile evidence, take initial photographs and give advice on how to preserve and secure the rest of the evidence. This CSM was one of the on call CSMs and was probably now at home in bed.

I'm glad I had breakfast before I got to work because today was likely to be a long day.

I didn't have time to read the log in regards to the incident and typically such an incident will have so many pages, it'd take a while to actually read it.

I went to the equipment store downstairs and got together a supply of various plastic bags, paper bags, swabs, water modules, hazard tape and knife tubes.

We got in the van and CSI Man drove as he knew where the incident was. He gave me a brief run down of what had happened whilst we drove there.

When we arrived there were two marked police vans and a marked car. The cordon was clearly visible and was around the complete outside of a small tower block of residential flats.

We got to the scene at approximately 0800. The sun was out and the sky was clear, it was warm already.

There had been officers at the scene all night. The scene needs to be secured and the evidence preserved. No one can enter the scene as it could be claimed evidence has been spoiled or contaminated.

There was a Police Sergeant from the dog section waiting for us. The flat where the incident had taken place had two dogs locked in one of the rooms. One of the dogs was believed to be a Pit Bull terrier and it was in a fighting mood.

I don't fight with dogs. They tend to win.

CSI Man asked me to go to the flat and prepare the hallway so that the dogs could be taken out without any footwear evidence being damaged in the hall.

I took a white suit from the back of the van, extra large. I'm not a large guy, honest. For some reason the suits are made in sizes that don't seem to make sense. The first time I put a suit on I chose a medium. No chance. I only just got my arms in and the damned thing ripped from top to bottom along the back.

I also wore footwear protectors. This have the word 'POLICE' indented along the bottom so if my footwear impression was recovered, we would know it was from me. I put a pair of gloves and and took a mask too.

I gave my name and collar number to the Police Officer with the scene log. This is recorded and is disclosed as part of the investigation. It keeps track of who enters and leaves the scene at what time and why.

I went up a couple of flights of stairs. There was some blood to photograph in the hallway and swab. I'll get to that after the dogs are gone.

The hallway was similar to any other tower block in the City. Bare concrete walls and stairs with the odd red tile here and there. It smelt too. I don't think that was as a result of the incident either.

I won't explain how I prepared the hallway, it was unusual. It may make the incident recognisable. That's the last thing I want.

Stepping plates are usually used to avoid direct contact with the floor. I'm sure one could imagine how difficult it could be for a Police Officer to try stepping from plate to plate with an angry dog in tow. The stepping plates were removed from the equation.

Inside the flat was a deceased male. He was fully clothed. Which I was pleased at. This would be the first deceased body I have dealt with whereby he wasn't naked.

The place was a mess. I learnt quickly not to assume that the mess was due to what had happened.

I remember a burglary I went to just after Christmas. The occupant was showing me around and explaining what had happened.

I said "They've made a right mess in here, haven't they?"

She said "They've not been in this room"

Oops.

The Sergeant came up with a PC and they had some shields, a fire extinguisher and some dog catching poles. I'm sure they've probably got a real name. The dogs didn't really struggle and were out of the building within a few minutes. People quickly cleared a path outside when they got to the front.

It appeared the male had been murdered. There was an array of weapons laying around. The male had a number of wounds about his body.

It wasn't a pretty sight. Flies were already starting to settle on his face and hands.

There was blood everywhere. The floor, the walls, the sofa and the ceiling.

There is a lot to do at a scene like this and there is no rush (most of the time) to get it done. The scene examination needs to be methodical, structured and thorough.

CSI Man had decided what we would achieve today and we set about it.

He was going to video the scene. This would be used for briefing purposes. It can be showed to the Senior Investigating Officer (SIO) and the team of DCs investigating it. This prevents them having to enter the scene and increasing the risk of contamination and loss of evidence.

Whilst he did the video inside the flat, I photographed and swabbed the blood in the hallway I mentioned earlier. Each area was marked with an arrow sticker, the location photographed from a distance and up close. I used my macro lens for the close shot. Once this was done, each was swabbed. I used a wet swab then a dry swab. The blood had dried, so the wet swab helped to removed most of it. The dry swab then scooped up what was left.

I had finished this before CSI Man had finished the video so I went outside to get some fresh air and a drink. It gets very hot in that suit. I was sweating. Maybe I should go to the gym more often. A female PC gave me a tissue, she didn't tell me that it was an Olbas Oil one, I wiped my forehead with it. At least it smelt pleasant.

I went outside and took the suit off, folding it into itself as I did. This meant any nasties I had on the suit were out of harms way. I had a drink from the van.

As I stood there looking around the estate I could see lots of people watching. It's surprising how many people find things to do outside when a scene pops up. It's early on a Sunday morning and there's people pulling weeds, brushing footpaths, washing cars and windows. I'd imagine they want to have a look at what's going on. I bet some of those weeds have been there for years.

One gent approached me and said "Is you CSI?" I think he was asking if I was a CSI.

He asked if I wanted a drink. I have only ever had one drink at a scene and that was a school canteen. Maybe it's natural, maybe its training or maybe its just instinct. I don't trust people to give me a drink in a clean cup which is made with clean things and nothing 'extra' is put in the drink. In addition to that, I can't say I've ever had the desire to drink out of jam jars.

I have a reply lined up for every time I'm asked: "No I'm fine thanks, I've just had one before I came out and I'd only need to run to the loo all day!" Laugh a little and move on.

Then it came. The real reason he approached me.

"What's happened? Has someone been murdered, I won't tell anyone?"

I'm sure he won't.

"I can't tell you mate, I'm sure it'll be on the news later"

As he left, he double checked I didn't want a drink. I just gestured my water bottle to him.

CSI Man finished and after a drink, we suited up again and went back into the flat.

The most important thing was to process the deceased male so he could be taken to the mortuary for a Post Mortem.

There was a suspect in custody for the murder. It could be relevant to compare fibres and hairs on both the suspect's and the victim's clothing. CSI Man gave me the task of taking fibre tape lifts from the victim's clothing and face.

The most effective way to do this is to lay a fibre tape, which is in simple terms a large piece of sterile sticky tape, on the body and pull it off and cover it with acetate.

I had drawn a sketch of the male and on the sketch I indicated a number which related to each tape. I wrote the corresponding number on each lift and sealed each in a tamper evident evidence bag.

I did approximately fifteen or sixteen tape lifts. Some had some very obvious fibres in, some had bits of skin and blood that had fallen from injuries. The whole time I was doing this, I was knelt next to the male. The smell wasn't too bad. It wasn't nice either. Flies kept landing on him, and moving off again when I moved. As long as they don't land on me, I'll be happy.

When I was applying pressure to the tape to pick up as much as possible I could feel that the victim's ribs were bust in a couple of places. His torso felt unusual.

Once I had done this, we both checked the floor around the victim for other pieces of trace evidence. A couple of things were recovered, which turned out to be significant. I won't mention what they were.

I had blood on the outside of my suit where I had been kneeling.

Whilst I was doing the fibre tapes, CSI Man was taking photographs of everything in the flat, in every room.

It was now time to put the victim in a body bag for transport. It's good practise to cover hands and the head with bags to ensure any fragile evidence isn't lost in transit.

The same would be done if the feet were uncovered.

I know that the victim is deceased and has been for a number of hours, however, there is something that feels unnatural about putting a bag over someone's head. CSI Man lifted his head off the floor and I pulled the bag down and tied it. We did the same with each hand. The victim was cold to touch.

As I had managed to protect the hallway earlier, we could now use the hallway to lay the body bag in. We started with the inner body bag. This appeared to be a nice new style bag. It had reinforced handles at strategic points, a pouch for documents and large zippers.

I wonder who designs these things for a living? What is their job title?

CSI Man was happy to take the torso and asked me to take the legs. It was important to handle the victim in a way that we would damage or distort any of the wounds he had. I took hold of his trousers and used them like a sling on his legs. I walked backwards into the hall and CSI Man walked towards me with the torso suspended in the victim's jumper.

It was a good fit. The victim was just the right size for the bag. Making sure all limbs were inside the bag, we zipped it up and sealed it. The seal was photographed.

We now had to lift the victim and the inner body bag into the outer body bag. This was also sealed and photographed. The undertakers had been called and were en route.

Deceased bodies really are a dead weight. It's surprising.

We went outside to change suits, the one's we were in were bloodied a lot. It looked like we'd been in a fight. As we left the building I became immediately aware of a clicking sound. It was the press. They love the white suits. They took a few shots and asked a few questions. We directed them to the press office. The press office will release relevant details to the press in relation to major incidents. There were some film cameras there also.

The undertakers turned up about twenty minutes or so later. We took them inside and showed them where the victim was and helped them get him into a further bag. He was then taken down the stairs and put onto a trolley. Their van was just outside the door so not too many people caught a glimpse of this bit. We're good at standing in the way when this bit happens.

The undertakers were followed to the mortuary by a police officer. This allows the police officer to evidence that the victim went straight to the hospital and when they do the PM, the same officer will normally attend to say it is the same seal and person from the scene.

CSI Man and I went back inside, we took some photos of where the victim had been laying. This is to show the space underneath him.

There was lots more to do in the property but CSI Man had decided that it may be relevant to wait until the PM had been done and the suspect had been spoken to. If it turns out something comes to light that is useful, it could change how we would process the scene to a degree.

For example, the PM could indicate which weapons were used from the mess of tools on the floor.

The outside of the tower block and the hallway had been searched by a support group whilst we were inside. This meant we could reduce the cordon to just the flat. A police officer would be posted there until the scene could be released. It turned out this was a few days. The officers would swap every few hours.

Two other CSIs went to the PM later that evening.

CSI Man had to go to another strategy meeting with the SIO in regards to the scene. I stayed back in the office and got my report sorted. I left the office by about 1930, so not as late as I was expecting. I should have finished at 1500 though.

I made it on the local BBC news, coming out in my white scene suit. It was my first TV appearance so apparently I have to buy cakes for everyone in the office.

Can anyone smell Olbas Oil?

My first call out

Each CSI in my force is required to be on call a number of times a month. It works out that one of us is on call once a week for each office. An on call shift will almost always follow a late shift.

I had a particularly busy late shift and didn't get back in the office until 2200 hours. I had to then complete the reports for each job I had attended and sort the evidence I had recovered.

I should go home at 2200.

I was lucky enough to be joined on my late shift by another CSI in the same office, so at least I had someone to talk to whilst I worked. We had both been worked well that shift, so were both still in the office listening to Florence and The Machines on my iPhone whilst typing away.

The clock got to about 2345 when the phone rang on the desk between us.

We're not normally there at that time and the officers know that too.

It must be a supervisor, either calling to tell us to go home or, far more likely, asking us to go to a job.

We looked at each other briefly, I answered the phone.

The supervisor wanted one of us to go to a Section 18 Wounding scene which was outside just around the corner from the nick. She passed me the details which I wrote on a scrap of paper on the desk. CSI John was eagerly reading the note over my shoulder as I scribbled away.

Lots of "yep" "Uh Hu "OK"'s and I hung up.

CSI John had the gist of the scene but I explained it to him in the way the Supervisor had. The supervisor said she required one of us to go and didn't mind who it was. I really wanted to go but we decided to flip a coin, it was overtime after all.

Heads, CSI John won. Rubbish.

I packed up my kit and went home.

I got home and flicked the kettle on. I had a cup of tea and went to bed, pretty certain I wouldn't be called out.

The phone rang at 0342, it was my supervisor who wanted me to attend an outside scene.

It turns out one of the City's finest decided he was bored of sleep at 0300 hours and wanted to see if he could kick and punch the nearest passer by as hard as he could. The victim fought back but came off noticeably worse than the other and had a fractured skull.

The offender had left a substantial amount of blood at the scene. Bonus.

I live only about five minutes from the station. I jumped in the shower, cleaned my teeth and signed in at the office at 0410. I printed the log and put my cases in the van.

I stapled the four pages of the log together and put it on my clip board.

I called up on the radio:

"CSI Guy to control, over"

"Good morning CSI Guy, go ahead, over"

"Good morning to you! Can you let the officers at Any Street know I'll be with them in fifteen minutes please? Over"

"No problems"

I got in the van and started the engine. Tripod! I ran back up the stairs and fetched the tripod from under my desk. Night time photography is impossible without a tripod.

It didn't take long to get to the scene. It was on a different division to the one I normally work. I was greeted by the shift Sergeant who had a handful of swabs...

Hmm. Swabs...I thought? I've got my own.

They had blood on them. Not so good. It turns out the bobbies on the scene were under the impression I wasn't going to be turned out. They made the decision to recover the evidence themselves.

Luckily for me, and them, there was still enough blood on the pavement and road for me to spoon up.

I grabbed some yellow number triangles and began to place them down at points of interest, these were a number of spots of blood and a broken bottle. The markers help to identify each location in relation to the next in a series of photos. Also, when recovering an exhibit, I can identify it 'from next to marker 3' etc.

I took a photo up and down the road to show each side of the scene. I then took a general photo of marker one. I then put the macro lens on, I'm a geek like that, other's probably wouldn't. I want as much detail as possible in the image.

Whereas a photo taken during the day would probably only take a 125th of a second to record, at night it can be anything between 1-30 seconds and sometimes longer. The camera has to be completely still during this time, otherwise the image will appear to be blurry.

One of my CSI elders told me that if a job is important enough to be called out for, it's important enough to be photographed. I'll remember that one. We don't take photos at every job, there's no need.

Once the photos were complete, I put my camera in the van and grabbed my SOCO kit. We still call it SOCO kit. CSI kit doesn't suit it.

The first evidence bag contained three swabs. One was a control sample of the sterile water I was using, the second was a wet swab of the blood and the third was a dry swab of blood. A control swab should always be taken. Depending on the circumstances, surfaces and time elapsed etc, depends whether or not a wet and dry swab are taken.

Each swab is labelled with the exhibit number, time and date. These three swabs go in the same exhibit bag and have the same exhibit number. The exhibit number changes when the sample location changes.

I did this for the other location and recovered the broken bottle.

It doesn't seem a lot, but I was at the scene for just short of an hour. The photos take the longest amount of time.

When there is a CSI officer on duty at 0400 hours then you'd be surprised how popular you are. You are often the only one on duty for the force. I'm convinced there's secret messages sent between control rooms on divisions letting each of them know I'm on duty. Control rooms and supervisors will often try to get you to another job after the one you've done. I'd love to stay on, for two reasons, I'm already awake and more importantly; it's overtime. Unfortunately the overtime needs to be authorised by a CSI supervisor. There s always a CSI supervisor on call overnight to answer calls and refuse or authorise a call out.

The Inspector wanted me to go to the hospital and photograph the victim's injuries. I wasn't allowed. The injuries will still be there tomorrow, a CSI on normal time will be tasked with it.

I went back to the office and put the report together on the computer. I put the blood swabs in the freezer.

I signed out of the time book just after 0730 and stopped at MacDonald's on the way home for breakfast. In bed by eight and got the rest of that day off.

I checked the progress of the job Yesterday. It turns out the victim has decided not to pursue a complaint against the fool who almost killed him. It means the swabs are destined for the bin. I still get the overtime however.

I've been very busy recently and have so much I want to blog about but I need to wait until the cases are done and dusted.

I'll go back and see what I can blog about from a few months ago.

Speak soon.

CSI Guy

Armed Robbery

I was about an hour into my late shift. Lates almost always include being on call until 0700 the next day.

It was a warm day, I only had my force issue t-shirt on and combat style trousers. I don't like my uniform. I think it looks scruffy. I'd much rather wear a short sleeve shirt and trousers. We'll see what happens with that.

I do need new boots though. I must look on the internet for those.

I digress. It was about three o'clock when I was just leaving the station to go to my first job. My colleague had left moments before me to go to a different division. I suspect he was on the same airwave channel as me though.

The first transmission came "Any unit for an emergency response to 123 Mytown Jewellers, panic button activated"

Now sometimes these things go off and people have no idea. I've been one of many who have piled into a public house on the outskirts of town, to be stared at by five or six shocked onlookers. The manager didn't realise he had a panic button, let alone that he'd activated it!

The second call came, seconds after the first.

"We've had a second call now, armed robbery in progress at 123 Mytown Jewellers, firearms seen"

You can almost feel the buzz., the adrenaline running through the officers fingers as they respond to the radio call.

The force helicopter, lets call her '99, was up on a different job but it wasn't as important as this one. The transmission came from her crew. You know it's them before they tell you, you can hear that they're in a helicopter. They wanted a piece.

I was on my way to a burglary just around the corner from our station. I got my kit together and got in the van. I knew I'd have time to do the burglary first.

My colleague made a sharp exit from the station car park. He knew I'd have heard the job come in. Secretly I wanted to go to it anyway.

As I left the station, I could hear '99 getting closer. She makes such a racket when she's low. I like seeing her though. There's something reassuring about her presence.

I eagerly listened to updates from responding officers. The four masked men had made off with a substantial amount of very expensive jewellery. The description of the car was given, along with an index. The index was incorrect. It was likely to be on false plates.

I arrived at the address of the burglary. It was only four streets from the Jewellers. '99 was above me now.

I knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again. No answer. I shouted through the letter box. When I opened it, at 300 decibels came Michael Jackson's Billie Jean. This could take a minute.

I got in eventually. I left about twenty minutes later with fingerprint lifts.

I pre-empted the request for CSI from responding officers and called up.

"Control from CSI Guy, over"

"Go ahead CSI Guy"

"ETA for 123 Mytown Jewellers, four minutes, over"

"Appreciated CSI Guy, we were about to call you"

You've got to keep the control room happy. The bobbies amongst you will understand that one.

I drove down the road approaching a police van with lights flashing, blocking the road. It took me a minute to wait for the other road users to perform three point turns and go back the way they came.

I have a laminated A4 card for the dashboard which has the force crest and Crime Scene Investigation on it. It helps when I park up at scenes in odd places, then all the tape and police cars move and my van looks odd. I took it from the glovebox and put it on the dash.

I drove towards the female officer stood in the road, my window down and waved at her. She shook her head and arms frantically. "You can't come in here sir......oh, sorry, I thought, uh, sorry..."

Makes me laugh everytime.

I could see the Jewellers. The front door was a mess. Glass everywhere. A Sergeant and a PC (who I'd met before) were stood outside with a scene log.

I drove the short distance from the road block to the Jewellers. As I drove down the road, other shopkeepers were stood in their doorways watching, watching everything. I could feel them looking at me and my van. It wasn't clear who I was. Why was I allowed through the block?

I got my kit, camera and my 'spare kit' bag and made my way over to them.

The Sarge gave me the run down. The PC told me that he'd been first on scene, he got the owners out and no one had been near it since.

I love it when that happens.

The immediate area outside the Jewellers was taped off, using parked cars as points to tie the tape to.

I set my case down behind one of the cars, inside the cordon. I needed to take photos, but I didn't want any of my kit in the shots.

I walked back out of the cordon, I took a photo up and down the street looking back at the Jewellers. I took a photo square on to the shop front, ensuring I wasn't in the reflection of the glass. I took a close up shot of the door that had been forced and made my way inside.

I wore footwear protectors to ensure that I didn't contaminate any footwear impressions I would later recover. It helps to be wary of where you step, however, I had to step somewhere. We have stepping plates which allow us to move through a scene without our footwear touching the surface any offender's footwear may have. I didn't require them in this case, as long as I was careful.

The inside of the shop was pretty small. It was hot. I was glad I only had my t-shirt on. I could feel the heat warming me up rapidly. I saw a fan and a stand alone air conditioning unit. The problem was, they were already on.

It was nice to get inside, shut the door and listen. Listen to the silence. There was so much going on outside. People were gathering on the pavement opposite the Jewellers. Now they were watching me.

I took a minute just to stand and look around. It helps me massively to look and plan in my head how I will process the scene.

Enough planning.

The glass cabinets had been smashed to pieces. There was broken glass everywhere. There were pieces of jewellery on the floor, mixed with glass. I'm not fond of jewellery. Probably because I don't understand it's value. Like flowers, I guess.

A whole pane of glass had come from the inner door when it was forced, and lay on the floor, complete but shattered. I powdered this, and it was covered in footwear impressions.

The footwear impressions are recovered using a black gelatin lifter. Its placed on top of the powdered (or unpowdered) impression and lifted and secured. It produces a replica of what can be seen on the treated surface.

Each footwear impression is recovered in turn, labelled and sealed into a tamper evident bag. All exhibits are written up and sealed at the scene.

It's not somewhere you'd normally find footwear impressions. Good find.

I recovered a bag left by the offenders. They had brought a number of bags with them, in order to carry the jewellery. The bag was probably purchased just for this job. It looked brand new.

I recovered a number of fingerprint lifts too.

When the offenders forced the door, they used a tool of some sort. The victims hadn't seen what this was. I was curious. The PC suggested the head of a sledge hammer, but I wasn't convinced. The shape seemed too clean and conforming. I took a gel lift of the impression it left.

I tidied up a little as I worked through the scene. I stacked jewellery I collected from the floor onto a unit. I placed larger pieces of glass into a pile also. I think it helps the victim clean up later if I make an effort as I go.

CID arrived. I was perched, powdering items on the floor. I could see them in the corner of my eye, I wanted to finish what I was doing before I got up and went back outside to talk to them.

I could do with stepping outside to get out of the heat.

I spoke to the DC. She was pleasant. I hadn't met her before. She explained what she knew, which was he same as the Sarge had told me. I told her what I had found so far. I went back inside a little cooler.

I was at the scene for around two hours. Once I had left, the cordon could be removed.

I still had the list of jobs I started the shift with. They still had to be completed. The robbery took up a fair stretch of my shift. I'd have to work my backside off to get the rest of the jobs done.

I did a couple more burglaries and then had to photograph the scene of an alledged rape.