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The Bulldog and the Helix Page 9
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That level of human traffic at the ballpark and on the boulevard adjoining the gully where Jessica disappeared meant it would be virtually impossible to gather evidence beyond the immediate crime scene. The crime scene area was further compromised by the search operation. By the time Rescue Squad members discovered the body at 2:05 PM, the site had been criss-crossed continuously since 11:30 the previous evening.
The sheer level of violence inflicted on the young girl’s battered body horrified everyone, and that included the professionals who dealt with homicide on a daily basis, Djos said. The initial examination of the scene suggested this was a spontaneous, frenzied assault on an opportune victim, with little or no attempt on the part of the perpetrator to cover his tracks, other than peeling tree bark and gathering forest debris to cover up the victim. Investigators suspected that a 375-millilitre Meaghers liqueur bottle found at the scene had been used in the assault.
A spontaneous, disorganized crime scene such as investigators discovered in the Dry Creek ravine frequently results in a quick arrest. Such horrific crimes are typically fuelled by substance abuse and are often committed in a drug- or alcohol-induced blackout. That level of intoxication and, in many instances, the loss of memory of the event, renders the suspect less capable of evading arrest—at least in the short term. Six months previously, Port Alberni investigators had picked up a highly intoxicated Tommy George less than twenty-four hours after the violent and senseless street killing of George Evenson. But investigators are always aware that the clock is ticking and that the first few hours are the most critical when it comes to breaking such a case.
“You’ve got to give it for the first forty-eight hours. Then the first seventy-two,” Djos said. In this case, however, just as in the Lee case, investigators were dealing with an outdoor crime scene that had been subjected to the elements. The most promising piece of evidence, the liqueur bottle, did not yield any fingerprints. A remorseful, drug-addled suspect did not stumble onto their radar screen. Neighbours did not report seeing a bloodstained man fleeing the crime scene.
“We went door-to-door—every house in the neighbourhood,” Arnfield said, “and everyone was coming out.”
CRITICAL DNA EXPERTISE
When the initial, full-scale effort failed to yield a suspect, Djos knew it was time to shift to the long game. “After a while, there was a feeling it was going to be a campaign,” he said. “It was my job to read every piece of paper that dealt with it. We often held three meetings a day. We were fortunate in that we had a top-notch steno, Diane Bonner.” As the information flowed in—statements, briefing notes, voice recordings, etc.—Bonner typed up transcripts under the indexed TIPS format. The TIPS (not an acronym) information retrieval system is used in major files.
“You may have up to twenty-five different ‘tips’ with each murder. There is your autopsy report, neighbourhood inquiries . . . There is the forensic report, lab reports, all your suspects, all your persons of interest. And it just goes on and on,” Djos explained.
All of the information is cross-indexed. Bringing up one name brings up all references to that person. As the investigation progressed, it was obvious that the Port Alberni team of investigators was in for the long haul. The DNA samples were collected, the witness statements were collated, and the TIPS file grew exponentially. “At one time, we had twenty people working on that file because we had assistance from the [E] Division, from the Serious Crimes Unit,” Djos said. “These are the specialists who work across the province, and they bring a lot of experience to bear.”
Few police detachments were as well prepared for a long-term campaign as the Port Alberni RCMP. The team put DNA into the mix almost immediately. It had been eight years since Dan Smith experienced his revelation in the dentist’s office, and four years since he, Djos, Blizard, and Bond had shown up on Gurmit Dhillon’s doorstep with a search warrant.
While DNA had become an inherent part of RCMP investigations across Canada, Djos said that the police had not made it a priority to educate most rank-and-file members on the new technology or law. But Port Alberni was already on the forefront, and Dan Smith became a guiding figure at the investigative level, while Darrill Prevett, the prosecutor, took on the mantle of DNA specialist. Smith said investigators knew that the hard-won lessons learned in the Carolyn Lee case, with both the science and the case law, gave them a distinct edge in identifying and capturing the killer. While Gurmit Dhillon had yet to be charged, now that he had provided a warranted blood sample to back up the voluntary sample collected in 1992, it was purely a matter of time and paperwork before he would face justice. While the public remained sceptical about this new science, investigators were confident that Dhillon would be charged and prosecuted.
Faced with another child sex slaying, the Port Alberni GIS had by now built up a storehouse of expertise and had access to a network of the most elite forensic and investigative specialists in the RCMP. While DNA hardware was still evolving, genetic fingerprinting would be employed from the onset in the States case, and investigators would not have to work with degraded crime scene evidence.
“We all realized that DNA was going to play a huge role in solving this, as soon as we knew there was DNA,” Smith said. “We now had plenty of experience. We were the first to get a DNA warrant on Vancouver Island, and we were well ahead of the curve. We knew [DNA] was going to be a significant piece of evidence—undoubtedly the defining piece of evidence—that would help us solve this crime.”
But there was still some initial uncertainty, due to the nature of the killing, as to whether forensic examiners could collect an uncontaminated genetic sample from the victim. As Smith described it, after “a few days of teeth-gnashing,” the lab reported that they had isolated an uncorrupted sample that could provide a complete genetic fingerprint of the suspect. It was an appropriate metaphor.
The suspect’s DNA had been collected from a discarded wad of chewing gum found at the crime scene. And so, a decade after the Leicester Police Constabulary launched their groundbreaking mass collection of genetic samples to catch a killer, Port Alberni RCMP initiated their own “blooding,” incorporating all of the lessons used thus far.
By now, investigators worldwide had learned that DNA fingerprinting, like earlier serology analysis, was better at eliminating a suspect rather than apprehending one. But in a case where hundreds of males had been in close proximity to the crime scene, Smith said the blooding served as an adjunct to the interview process. “Because we had that, it was immensely helpful—and we took a lot of heat for this, I recall—in eliminating people from suspicion that we would have [otherwise] had to spend huge amounts of investigative resources on, unnecessarily.”
And so the genetic manhunt began. Smith said those who could be positively alibied would not need to be tested. Those who couldn’t would be asked to submit blood or saliva for DNA analysis. The ballplayers were the first to come forward. Smith said there were many motivations for men to cooperate with the investigation. Some felt the need to eliminate themselves from suspicion, while others wanted to set an example, to make a statement that anyone with nothing to hide should step up.
Constable Serge Cashulette was given the critical role of exhibit manager. With his excitable demeanour, coupled with frequent outbursts of profanity in his thick Québécois accent, one might question his ability to stay calm and focussed during the often-tedious process of collecting, recording, and filing evidence. But Cashulette was a thorough, meticulous exhibit manager who was especially popular among the community policing volunteer groups. One of Cashulette’s favourite terms for street criminals was “shit-RAT” and this term became so ubiquitous that it was formalized under the Port Alberni police radio alphabet. It was not uncommon to hear very proper community policing volunteers casually referring to “Sierra Romeos” in the course of their activities.
Djos said Cashulette had to exercise considerable judgment in his role as exhibit manager. “Serge packaged up all the [DNA] samples
in lots of twenty-four,” Djos said. “He also had the responsibility for prioritizing samples [from suspects]. There weren’t a lot of suspects coming out of the mix. I felt sorry for the guys at the lab. We kept inundating them with samples. I knew how busy they were. But they also knew this case.”
IN THE LAB
A civilian RCMP forensic scientist, Hiron Poon, took over the case shortly after the blooding was launched. In 1975, Poon’s family had moved from Hong Kong to Vancouver, where he completed his final two years of high school. Upon graduation, he attended the University of British Columbia, where he undertook a master’s degree in pathology. In 1982, while he was still completing his master’s, Poon was recruited by the RCMP. He went to work in the serology lab. While at the lab, he published a scientific paper that won an award and brought him to the attention of the powers that be. Partly on that basis, in 1987, the RCMP sent Poon back to the University of British Columbia to complete a PhD in molecular biology/biochemistry.
“They had decided at that time that we were going into DNA, so they needed somebody internally to train in the area. I was one of the guinea pigs who was sent back to school to learn the trade,” Poon said. “Then I got recalled back to work in 1990, when the government ‘had no money.’ They cut all the training grants. So I went back to work in my old job as a serologist.”
But in 1992, Poon received his first training in the RFLP process. Then, in 1995, he was selected to train in PCR. “I was one of two people at that time in Vancouver who were trained to do PCR . . . When I took over the case,” says Poon, “it was near the end of the RFLP time. We were switching over to a Multiplex PCR system.”
The first analysis pointed up the shortcomings of the early technology, he explained. “RFLP needs DNA in really good quality. If the DNA is degraded when you run the process—this is electrophoresis— you end up getting a black smear, a streak, which is non-informative. That is the limitation of RFLP technology.” That meant that the DNA could not definitively identify the donor—or the victim, for that matter.
Poon said that by 1996, the advantages of the PCR system were better understood: the analyst needed less material, and degraded material could be used to produce a profile. It was also faster—no more waiting for six months. “We made the decision that I was going to convert some of the samples into the new system. Then we got some results. We were able to derive the profile of the perpetrator . . . That was the first break that we had: an unambiguous donor profile from the semen sample.” Now, they had to find out who the DNA belonged to.
By 1996, public knowledge of forensic DNA was far greater than in the days of the Colin Pitchfork investigation, especially in Port Alberni, where the Carolyn Lee investigation was a topic of ongoing community discussion. There were those who were intrigued with the opportunity to be part of a high-tech forensic investigation in their own hometown. And there were also those who knew, thanks in large part to the widespread popularity of Joseph Wambaugh’s book, that police would be extremely interested in anyone who made an effort to avoid being sampled.
Smith said the first to line up for DNA sampling at the RCMP detachment were those who were in no way under suspicion but who happened to be in the park the night of the killing. Later, the GIS would reach out beyond the immediate community to locate fast-pitch players and Tlu-Piich Games participants, many from the remote village of Ahousaht, who had gone home before being contacted by police. Again, the level of cooperation was far beyond what investigators had anticipated, and it extended to all levels of the community. “Even those who would normally not give us the time of day—like career criminals —would happily stick their finger out for a DNA sample so that they could distance themselves from this crime. There were exceptions, but the vast majority of people that we asked for DNA gave it.”
One of the men who readily volunteered a DNA sample was Manjit Dhillon, the brother of Gurmit Dhillon, the Carolyn Lee suspect. By 1996, Manjit, nicknamed Munji, no longer worked at the family foundry, and his drinking was out of control. He was a familiar figure on the streets and at public events but not considered especially dangerous. Witnesses reported that he was seen leaving the ballpark in some haste on the night of the killing. But despite the DNA dilemma his brother was facing, Manjit Dhillon readily provided a blood sample and was subsequently eliminated as a suspect. “I could count on one hand the number of people that refused us. And I know that we got cast-off DNA from one person who did refuse us,” Smith said.
With the DNA manhunt progressing, one individual on the to-do list broke from the herd, which immediately raised his profile as a suspect. “He lived in the area and moved away almost immediately after the murder. When we had approached him for a consent sample, he was quite agitated and belligerent. He accused us of trying to frame him,” Smith said.
Poon said the suspect became a priority because of a genetic anomaly in the crime scene sample. “In the Multiplex system we used at the time, we found a number of alleles that we had not seen in the literature in North America. It was not in the database—not in the Caucasian population. When I looked at it, I thought, ‘Oh—that is interesting.’ I thought the suspect might have a black heritage.” The suspect in question was believed to have that “black heritage.” Early in the investigation, he moved to Steveston, on the Lower Mainland. “We had a surveillance team put on him. I went over and assisted, and in a short time, we had all kinds of DNA on him,” Smith said.
The surveillance team at one point followed the subject into a bar and collected cigarette butts, beer glasses, and a napkin for saliva samples. Hoping they had spooked the killer into revealing himself, they sent the evidence to the Vancouver crime lab for analysis. Smith said that by now, police had learned the ground rules of DNA collection. This suspect had no grounds to claim unreasonable search and seizure. “By definition, there was no ‘search,’” Smith explained. “He had no reasonable expectation of privacy for something he had abandoned. By now, the law was becoming more clear.”
Subjected to RFLP analysis, however, the suspect was quickly eliminated from suspicion. Poon said the Steveston suspect temporarily sidetracked the States investigation, but after the early flurry of activity with one potential suspect, the campaign shifted over to the mass analysis of the volunteer samples.
“We had already started processing those hundreds of samples, but we could only do ten or twenty at a time. They had sent in close to four hundred samples,” Poon said. He explained, under the existing RCMP protocol, samples were recorded in a system that skipped every other number. With nearly four hundred samples in hand, the numbers were now approaching eight hundred.
“While we were doing this, we re-did the samples in the Multiplex system. And then, two years later, in 1998, we introduced a newer system in PCR. So we did another conversion, this time to a unit that was available commercially. This was the Nineplex Profiler Plus system.” Poon explained that the Multiplex was also considered a “Nineplex,” but you had to do three separate batches to get nine loci. There was some variation in the specific loci tested by the various systems. Poon would later make the conclusive nine-loci (plus sex typing) DNA match with the suspect using that third generation of DNA technology.
In the beginning, the RCMP lab could only process twenty-four samples at a time, and the technicians were processing samples from all over BC. Smith and the Port Alberni team tried to make the best use of the available resources. “We definitely prioritized them with what were the most likely prospects,” he said. By dodging police attempts to obtain a consent sample, the Steveston suspect had effectively guaranteed that his sample would be processed in the next available batch. Conversely, those solid citizens who stepped forward at the first opportunity slid well down on the priority list.
The job of the team leader is to tap into the various skill sets to generate results. “Dan [Smith] was continually updating himself on DNA law,” Dale Djos said. “He’s a very good investigator, the kind of guy you can put your trust in.�
�� And while the RCMP’s paramilitary structure tends to place great importance on rank and bureaucratic procedure, the playing field is somewhat levelled out in a GIS room, especially during a major crime investigation. “It doesn’t matter what rank you are, everybody is treated equally. You all throw ideas around.”
To the chief investigator also falls the responsibility for managing expenses and reporting costs. In a hot crime investigation, it is customary to rack up a great deal of overtime. Much of that overtime (for regular members) was billed to the City of Port Alberni, but specialist members brought in from E Division, as per policy, were billed to the province. For Dale Djos, the goal was to justify expenses at both ends.
By the time Shelly Arnfield had joined the GIS in November 1996, the main blooding of the ballplayers and the Tlu-Piich Games participants had been wrapped up. Her job was to follow up on tips and to perform the odd DNA sampling as potential suspects were identified. As Arnfield recalled, a specialist came to the Port Alberni GIS and “gave us a course in taking a proper blood sample so that, when it comes to court, we can say that we’ve been trained in how to do it without contaminating it.” It wasn’t exactly a certification, but a physician delivered the training, and the GIS members were required to practice on each other.
MY EDUCATION IN forensic DNA analysis began around this time too. I had recently landed in the Alberni Valley Times newsroom. I had no journalism training, but I did have a master’s degree in creative writing, and (more critically) I could run a black-and-white darkroom. After racing out and blundering into a potential bank shootout three weeks after I started in the newsroom, the detachment commander, Chief Inspector Andy Murray, took me under his wing and provided me with a number of opportunities to learn about police work.