Investigating Miscarriages of Justice Thoroughly – Part Four
Predictions:
It had been predicted without exception that Lynette’s killer was a vicious thug with a history of brutality, probably starting with cruelty to animals that graduated to violence against humans, culminating in what was then the most savage murder of its type in Welsh history. This would not be a killer that would just stop once he had developed the blood lust required to commit such a heinous crime.
Surely there would be more to follow and a trail of previous offences. This was certainly what conventional wisdom suggested, but Jeffrey Gafoor was a totally different type of killer – frighteningly unique. Gafoor was impossible to predict. He was shocked by what he did and coped by blotting it out. He also shut out friends and family – prefering to limit human interaction to the absolute minimum needed to exist. He was determined to prevent repetition by preventing the opportunity for social contact.
After one conviction for assault in 1992, Gafoor severed contacts – preferring to drive three miles to post his rent rather than drop it in to his landlord, who was also a neighbour. He lived as a virtual recluse, limiting human interaction to the bare minimum. This made him very hard to detect.
Triumph:
South Wales Police had to make history to catch him. They were fortunate to have a dedicated and talented team of investigators poring over the evidence, applying modern techniques and equally importantly, excellent investigative methods. Detective Superintendent Kevin O’Neill was determined to silence critics of his force by showing them what he and his team could achieve.
Brent Parry retired at the rank of Detective Chief Inspector, but not before he played an important part in this inquiry as did Detective Constable Paul Williams. They showed that the failure to get a hit from the National DNA Database was not the end of the story unless investigators allowed it to be – at least in this case. Familial DNA could help to solve crimes too. It could also correct miscarriages of justice.
Williams noticed that DNA profile of Cellophane included a rare allele – it eliminated ninety-nine percent of people on the database on its own. He investigated the database again first at eight alleles and then more. He was not looking for a complete match – just a significant one that would tell him which family the murderer came from. He concentrated his search on South Wales and one profile belonging to a then 14-year-old boy stood out.
Police knew that they were closing in on Cellophane Man. The real killer of Lynette White was a male relative of that boy. They tested his father. It wasn’t him. Then they tested his uncle. It wasn’t him either. They were mystified. The science told them that the killer had to be a close male relative of that boy, but DNA also said that it was not his father or uncle.
They were then told about another uncle – one that had chosen to cut himself off from the family. That was Jeffrey Gafoor. They were about to discover the reason why. Gafoor had savoured undeserved freedom for fifteen years. Astonishingly he voluntarily gave a buccal swab – had he refused an outrageous whispering campaign against the Cardiff Five would persist to this day against innocent men.
Gafoor tried to commit suicide, but his life was saved by officers who noticed that he was purchasing a large amount of paracetomol. They knocked his door in and he was taken to hospital. Hoping to die, he made incriminating admissions. These were followed by no comment interviews on recovery in March 2003. Four months later he made history – the first British murderer to be brought to justice after a miscarriage of justice.
Disaster:
Gafoor pleaded guilty on July 4th 2003. Tony Paris waited outside the court as the then Head of South Wales Police’s Criminal Investigation Department (CID) Detective Chief Superintendent Wynne Phillips held an impromptu press conference on the steps of Cardiff Crown Court. Paris waited for a statement of regret from Phillips for his ordeal.
It became clear that it wasn’t going to come unprompted. “Where’s my apology?” Paris demanded. It still wasn’t forthcoming. Phillips wanted to concentrate on South Wales Police’s achievement. It was about achieving justice for Lynette, but there were other victims too. They deserved an acknowledgment of what they had been through – an apology at the very least. It still wasn’t forthcoming.
Phillips failed to realise that South Wales Police’s greatest triumph was also their biggest disaster. It could not be ignored. On July 7th the then Chief Constable of South Wales Police Sir Anthony Burdon apologised in writing to the Cardiff Five for what they had been through and to Lynette’s family too. He was also determined to put right what his force had got wrong. |