Given the critical stage we have now reached,
with an unprecedented number of MPs
showing an active interest in the issue and with the Home Affairs
Committee preparing to undertake its inquiry into care home
investigations, it is not surprising that police officers seem
increasingly anxious to present trawling as a well-tried and traditional
method. In this respect it is worth noting that the memory of some senior
police officers appears to be very short. For there was a time when senior
detectives themselves saw the matter differently. Indeed the view that
trawling is an abnormal mode of investigation originally came not
from critics of the process but from police officers who were actively
engaged in it.
It is now almost six years since I
interviewed Detective Superintendent John Robbins at the headquarters of
Operation Care at Upton Police Station on the Wirral. Without any
prompting from me Robbins described the approach he and his fellow
officers had adopted towards the investigation of historical abuse as ‘the
reverse of normal police methods’. Normally, he explained, police officers
start with an offence and are unsure who committed it. In trawling
investigations, however, this process is reversed. What he clearly meant
by this was that you start with a suspect or an allegation and end up by
discovering a number of crimes, which had not previously been reported. He
then went on to utter the words which have become famous. ‘Corroboration,’
he said, ‘is generally done by volume.’
What Robbins told me in 1996 is now
deeply embarrassing to senior police officers for no other reason than
that his characterisation of trawling was entirely accurate. It remains
accurate now. Of course it is quite true that, in the course of
investigating serious crimes such as murder, the police may go to great
lengths in order to discover fresh witnesses who have not come forward of
their own accord. But in this case the police are seeking evidence about a
crime which has already been reported, and whose reality is not in doubt.
In trawling operations they are, of course, effectively seeking crimes
which have not been reported – and which may not, in fact, have taken
place at all. There is a difference between conducting a search for
witnesses and conducting a search for complainants. As Detective
Superintendent Robbins himself clearly recognised in 1996, the latter
approach turns traditional police methods on their head.
This point is noted in a
booklet about trawling techniques published jointly by the Merseyside
Police, the Cheshire Constabulary, the City of Liverpool Social Services
directorate and Cheshire Social Services. The booklet in question was
published in 1999 under the title ‘You told me you loved me’ and is
described as ‘An account and analysis of the Joint Investigations into
Institutional Child Abuse carried out in the North West of England from
1993 to 1999’. It contains the following oblique acknowledgment of the
truth of Robbins’ words: ‘Critics have pointed out that these operational
methods represent a departure from normal police practice. This may be
true but the methods have been scrutinised by the judiciary in trials
without criticism to date.’
It is highly significant that the
authors of the booklet (which features a photograph of Detective
Superintendent Robbins, who may well have contributed to its drafting)
have attempted to limit the self-inflicted damage done by Robbins’s own
accurate analysis. They have done so by misattributing it to critics who
have, in fact, merely been quoting it.
Seeking
complaints
One of the standard
letters which the Home Office, until recently at least, was in the habit
of sending out to critics of trawling, says this: ‘The aim of this process
is not to produce fresh complaints, but to obtain evidence, either to
support or to disprove the original allegation’.
The letter
goes on to note that ‘Sex offenders do not commit their offences in public
view, and therefore there are usually no known witnesses to the
allegations.’ Since this claim is obviously true, the suggestion that
witnesses are being sought in an attempt to disprove allegations
cannot be sustained.
The real purpose of
trawling operations can only be established by examining police practice.
In North Wales, when the major investigation was launched in August 1991,
police officers were initially instructed that they should only take
statements from witnesses who had complaints to make. The terms in which
this instruction was conveyed were these: ‘No negative statements to be to
be taken’ (North Wales Tribunal Transcript, p. 25,444). This policy was
reversed on 16 December 1991, but only, according to Detective
Superintendent Ackerley, who led the investigation, in order to make
prosecutions easier by documenting all evidence ‘albeit there was no
complaint’ (p. 25,456). Statements in which no complaint was made, and
which might be full of praise for particular care workers or a particular
home, continued to be referred to as ‘negative statements’.
What this terminology reflects is what any
dispassionate examination of police trawling will reveal. In practice
trawling is not a form of investigation; it is a technique for ensuring
that prosecutions can be brought in relation to long-delayed allegations
and for maximising their chances of success.
Once again this is implicitly acknowledged in the
multi-agency booklet, ‘You told me you loved me’. Here it is
pointed out that, once a police force has adopted trawling as a legitimate
mode of investigation, a single complaint of abuse will, almost
automatically, trigger a full investigation:
It is arguable that in
times past, a single uncorroborated allegation may not have produced such
a response. Indeed it was probably the case that the fact that the
allegation was uncorroborated often resulted in the matter being given a
much lower priority for action. Experience has shown that in many (but not
all cases), proactive inquiry can uncover further allegations
[italics added].
From these words it is quite clear that the
‘uncovering’ of further allegations is seen as the central task of
trawling operations. Again and again the former residents who are
contacted in this way are referred to in the booklet as ‘potential
victims’. At no point in the booklet is there any discussion of the
problem of false allegations. Nor is it ever suggested that one of the
purposes of investigating complaints might be to disprove
them.
Breeding allegations
The Home Office letter from which I have
already quoted says this: ‘As you know, investigations of this nature
often start with one complainant making allegations going back over many
years.’ These words suggest that care workers are unlikely to find
themselves being investigated unless somebody has first come forward to
make an allegation against them. The idea is a reassuring one. In
practice, however, it is not true. The major North Wales investigation of
1991-1992, to take but the most significant example, was launched without
a single allegation having been made to the police at the time against
fifteen of the sixteen Bryn Estyn care workers who were subsequently
arrested. The exception, Stephen Norris, had been convicted in relation to
another home and the investigation was launched in response to suspicions
that he might be part of a paedophile ring. The allegations against the
other fifteen members of staff were in effect ‘bred’ by the investigation
itself.
This pattern, in which trawling operations lead to
the progressive multiplication of suspects, is characteristic. Again and
again a single completely unreliable allegation, which is subsequently
discredited, shown to be impossible or rejected by the prosecution
themselves, is allowed to trigger massive police investigations whose main
effect is to encourage the proliferation of more unreliable allegations.
In one case in South Wales the original
complainant made a series of wholly implausible allegations which included
the claim that he had been sexually abused by a train driver, one Brian
Green, in the cab of his train while he was driving it. It was eventually
established by the police that Brian Green did not exist. By this time,
however, a massive investigation had taken place. Its purpose was to
gather as many allegations as possible against the members of a paedophile
ring which had no more reality than the spectral train driver. As a result
of this investigation seven men found themselves facing a total of some
three hundred separate allegations. These included a claim that one
residential social worker had impaled a boy on a cucumber and that the
same social worker had witnessed a murder, and protected the murderer by
his subsequent silence. So little faith did the police have in the
veracity of their own complainants that they did not even dig up the patch
of ground which had been indicated as the site where the alleged murder
victim was supposed to be buried.
In spite of the evidently false
claims made by some of the complainants the police pressed on with the
prosecution. Six of the seven men were charged, four of them jointly. In a
process which lasted more than three years, the cases were brought to
trial at Cardiff Crown Court where they eventually collapsed spectacularly
in February 2001. A set of allegations made by a complainant who was
eventually shown conclusively to be a fantasist and a compulsive
fabricator, had been allowed to trigger a massive trawling operation which
had in turn led to the collection of some 300 false allegations, and which
had cost the taxpayer several million pounds.
The human cost of this particular
case has been far greater than the financial cost. One of the defendants,
Arthur Rowett, an 80 year-old man, died before his name could be cleared.
Another, 50 year-old Simon Smith, died after hitting his head against a
radiator when he stumbled and fell while he was being interviewed in a
police station. The careers of the four other men who were charged have
been destroyed, and their lives blighted. In two cases, social workers
threatened to separate fathers from their own children, and indeed from
their wives, by removing them from the family home.
In one of the most disturbing
episodes in the entire saga, the judge who eventually directed that the
three remaining defendants should be acquitted, made no comment on the
horrific ordeal which had been suffered by all seven men, and offered no
endorsement of their innocence. Whereas the judge in the David Jones trial
told the football manager that he would leave the court without a stain on
his character, the judge who presided over the spectacular collapse of the
Cardiff trial was silent on this issue.
Most disturbingly of all, one of
the innocent defendants who walked free from Cardiff Crown Court in
February of last year, Tony Burke, found himself facing trial again later
in the year. This was because the South Wales Police had managed to trawl
up another set of allegations. Made by four men in their forties, two of
whom were brothers, these trawled complaints related to events which had
supposedly happened at a care home where Tony Burke had taught thirty
years ago. Even though almost all documentary evidence had disappeared,
and key witnesses had died, an abuse of process hearing failed. Just
before Christmas, Tony was convicted and sentenced to 8½ years in prison.
His wife Claire, a social worker, and his three young children, have now
joined those who wait.
Drawing a
line
The investigation in South Wales is only one of at
least a thousand investigations into individual homes which have been
conducted as part of more than ninety different trawling operations across
the country. Even though this particular investigation has collapsed, the
trawling operation out of which it grew continues. This is the nature of
such operations. In a paragraph headed ‘The “End Game”’, the authors of
You told me you loved me express the problem in the following
terms:
Given the
considerable resources deployed by investigative agencies, the need to
design parameters wherein a line might be drawn to the operations has been
a constant consideration, but perhaps more properly falls within the
category of being an ongoing dilemma.
In other words police trawling operations, once
they have been started, are all but impossible to stop. This is but one of
many reasons why they are the most dangerous form of police investigation
which has yet been devised. Because of the manner in which they encourage
and multiply false allegations, and because of the sheer number of the
grave miscarriages of justice they have already led to, these operations
have already, in the eyes of some observers at least, entirely destroyed
the credibility of our system of justice and law enforcement.
Contrary to what the Home Office letters say (or
used to say) and to what senior police officers are likely soon to be
telling the Home Affairs Committee, the aim of trawling operations is
precisely what it is now claimed not to be – to produce fresh
allegations. In practice this aim will remain, however much the police
themselves may seek to normalise trawling by the introduction of
ineffectual guidelines. Until such time as the judiciary and politicians
act in concert to introduce rigorous safeguards, and to reform radically
the manner in which complaints of sexual abuse are investigated andtried,
false allegations will continue to multiply and the vast human tragedy to
which such allegations have already led will continue to
deepen.
There can be no doubt that the Home Affairs
Committee has a difficult task ahead of it. For nothing less than the
credibility of our entire justice system depends upon the outcome of their
inquiry.
F.A.C.T.I.O.N. April 2002. Newsletter of FACT
(Falsely Accused Carers and Teachers)
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