Daily Mail

MONSTROUS INJUSTICE

He’s the brilliant cop who nailed the psychopath­ic killer of two women — but was then driven out of the force for bending the rules. Yesterday, as the murderer was jailed for life, he was vindicated. In this blistering interview he tells how his life has

- by Kathryn Knight

BY the way, it was a pleasure ruining your career, you corrupt b*****d.’ Spoken from the dock at Bristol Crown Court this month, these were the words of the convicted murderer Christophe­r halliwell as he finished cross-examining former Detective Superinten­dent Steve Fulcher, the man who had sacrificed everything — his career, health and happiness — to bring him to justice.

It was a moment which, perhaps better than any other, summed up the monstrous injustice meted out to DS Fulcher — and exposed the deeply warped priorities of our legal system. Why on earth had this killer been given every conceivabl­e privilege, while a brave, upstanding detective was hung out to dry?

For Fulcher had gone from being Wiltshire Police’s man of the hour — ‘flavour of the month’ as he puts it — to having his reputation destroyed.

this, despite the fact he had caught halliwell, a murderer and possible serial killer. Indeed, it was only thanks to Fulcher’s instincts — honed from 25 years of painstakin­g detective work — that two young murder victims had been found.

the lives of Sian O’Callaghan, 22, and Becky Godden, 20, had been callously cut short by taxi driver halliwell, who guided Fulcher to their bodies. In the aftermath of halliwell’s arrest, Fulcher was nominated for a Queen’s Police Medal — the highest honour in policing — for his work in extracting the killer’s confession.

It was a fitting tribute for a man who prided himself on putting victims and their families first. Sian O’Callaghan’s family certainly think so, as does Becky Godden’s mother Karen. they have been fulsome in their support of a man they believe acted solely in their interest.

their sentiments, however, are not shared by the police or the legal system. Fulcher, now 49, was then suspended from the force before being discipline­d for gross misconduct and ultimately hounded out of his job.

his ‘crime’, if that is even remotely the appropriat­e word, was failing to follow to the precise letter police procedure — something Fulcher says he did because it was the only way to get to the truth.

As a result of this ‘failure’, halliwell’s confession regarding both murders was ruled inadmissib­le in court.

thankfully, circumstan­tial and forensic evidence ensured halliwell, 52, was sentenced for life in 2012 for killing Miss O’Callaghan. But only this week, five-and-a-half years after he led Fulcher to her remains, was he convicted of the murder of Becky Godden, at last bringing closure to her anguished family.

YeSterDAY he was sentenced to a full life sentence, a tariff reserved for those, such as Moors Murderer Ian Brady, who are considered to be society’s most dangerous. the judge dismissed halliwell’s defence as a ‘cock and bull story’ and deemed him to be ‘calculatin­g and devious’.

Fulcher’s once distinguis­hed career, meanwhile, lies in ruins. effectivel­y unemployab­le by British police, he now works as a consultant on policing in Somalia, taking him away from home for long periods.

the protracted investigat­ions into his conduct, moreover, have affected not only his health but that of Yvonne, his 48-year-old wife of 28 years, and their two twentysome­thing daughters — investigat­ions which, as Fulcher emphasises in this blistering interview, could have been used to secure halliwell’s conviction for Becky Godden’s death years earlier.

‘It’s taken all this time for Becky’s case to come to court,’ he says. ‘But forensic evidence that has been used to convict [halliwell] was available back in 2011. [Wiltshire Police] chose not to pursue it. Instead resources went into investigat­ing me.’

Was there ever a more woeful example of flawed justice?

As Fulcher tells of his battle with pen- pushers and myopic boxtickers within the police, one thing is clear: the treatment received by this senior officer is enough to drive anyone to despair at the insanity of our legal system, one in which an obsession with process has taken precedence over the rights of victims and their families.

‘No one wants to go back to the old days where the police sometimes ran roughshod over the rules, but the pendulum has swung way too far in favour of the criminal,’ he says.

‘ there is an obsession with procedure at the expense of the bigger picture. If I had followed procedure, Sian and Becky’s bodies may never have been found — yet it seems that’s what senior authoritie­s would’ve preferred.

‘the public needs to know what the police won’t do if their own daughter went missing. It is a scandal.’

Fulcher is more than qualified to reflect on how British policing has changed. A career copper, he joined Sussex Police in 1986 aged 21. As he rose through the ranks, he earned a diploma and subsequent masters in Criminolog­y.

After joining the Wiltshire force in 2003, he was promoted to Detective Superinten­dent.

By then he had amassed an impressive CV, presiding over dozens of large investigat­ions. this was brought to bear when, on March 19 2011, office administra­tor Sian O’Callaghan was reported missing by her boyfriend after being last seen outside a nightclub in Swindon town centre in the small hours.

Via CCtV and tracing of her mobile signal it soon became clear this was what Fulcher terms a ‘crime in action’.

‘When you have a body in a ditch you have a reactive investigat­ion as the harm has been done. When you suspect someone has been abducted or kidnapped their life remains under threat, and there are very clear procedural rules about that.’

So clear, in fact, that there is a police manual — the Kidnap Manual — with precise guidelines. ‘the primary crucial objective is the preservati­on of life,’ says Fulcher.

Naturally, trying to ensure this places huge pressure on senior officers. ‘It is a colossal effort. You are talking about co- ordinating hundreds of officers. You don’t sleep, you don’t eat, it’s a 24/7 commitment. It’s a race against time.’

A race against a backdrop of high emotions, too. ‘I met Sian’s parents and promised them I wouldn’t rest until I found her,’ he recalls.

Fulcher’s commitment to victims of crime shines through during our interview. his emotion isn’t for his own plight, but that of Becky, Sian, and their families. ‘that is always in your mind,’ he says.

A suspect soon popped up in the shape of taxi driver Christophe­r halliwell, whose green toyota had been seen near the nightclub and close to Savernake Forest, where Sian’s mobile had last given off a signal.

With compelling circumstan­tial evidence, Fulcher authorised covert surveillan­ce. Officers observed halliwell depositing a perfume bottle, car seat covers and bloodied tissues in bins in various rural locations.

All the while, Fulcher delayed making an arrest, hoping halliwell might lead them to Sian, whom he fervently hoped might still be alive.

that changed when officers reported halliwell had visited a chemist and bought what Fulcher calls an ‘overdose quantity’ of pills.

Fearful that halliwell might take his own life, he felt he had no choice but to arrest him on suspicion of kidnap. ‘It was a terrible catch-22. By effectivel­y acting to ensure halliwell’s life was preserved, I was potentiall­y going to cause the death of his victim,’ he recalls.

‘If Sian was still alive, she probably wouldn’t survive the 96 hours we could keep him in custody if he refused to co-operate.’

The search for Sian had by now centred on the Iron Age fort of Barbury Castle. Anticipati­ng halliwell’s suicide risk, Fulcher arranged a team to conduct a ‘safety interview’, under caution, at the scene of his arrest.

But when halliwell kept answering ‘no comment’, Fulcher authorised officers to bring him to the hilltop site alone for an ‘urgent interview’ — entirely permissibl­e under the manual’s code — in a last ditch bid to find Sian. ‘I pleaded with him for Sian’s life,’ he recalls.

For nine long minutes halliwell said nothing. ‘then he said “have you got a car, let’s go”. It was horribly tense. All I could do was try to keep him talking.’

After a nail-biting drive, halliwell guided the police to an isolated lane near the Uffington White horse, close to the Berkshire border, where he said Sian’s body was lying in the open.

At this point, with the focus shifting from kidnap to murder, Fulcher should, according to the Police and Criminal evidence Act 1984 ( PACe), have cautioned halliwell again.

But his focus was on one thing: finding Sian. Moreover, as forensic officers set to work, Fulcher was unprepared for what came next.

‘I gave [halliwell] a cigarette and he asked to talk to me. We walked away and he said “Do you want another one?”

‘he then told me he had killed a girl in 2003, aged four or five, and he could take me to that body.’

Once more, PACe states Fulcher should have cautioned halliwell —

yet doing so, he says, would have meant losing the moment, with Halliwell taken to a police station where he would have been given a solicitor whose role is to stop clients incriminat­ing themselves. ‘I felt I had no option. There was simply no other way I could have acted that was within the letter of the law,’ he says. ‘There wasn’t an alternativ­e that wouldn’t involve ruining my chances of Halliwell opening up.’

Fulcher was using his experience to make a judgment call — one that took him on another car journey with Halliwell to rural Gloucester­shire.

‘He was crying in the car, saying he was a sick f*cker,’ recalls Fulcher. ‘He was scrolling through pictures on his phone of other women, leading me to suspect there were other victims.

‘I was desperatel­y trying to keep the lines of communicat­ion open, wondering how much else he might tell me.’

Once in the woodland, Halliwell stood on the spot where he claimed he’d buried a girl years earlier.

That girl, we now know, was Becky Godden, a beloved daughter who had fallen into drugs, prostituti­on and, ultimately, Halliwell’s evil hands. Her name would not be discovered for some days, after her DNA was checked.

By then, Halliwell had been charged with Sian O’Callaghan’s murder — he had stabbed her to death before dumping her body — and placed on technical bail for the murder of the unidentifi­ed woman.

Fulcher, meanwhile, was being congratula­ted by senior officers. Soon, however, his life was turned upside-down.

Two months later, dismayed at Wiltshire Police’s disinteres­t in reinforcin­g the charges related to Godden’s murder and other potential victims, Fulcher asked to be reassigned to the National Homicide Team.

‘Here was a man who indicated he might have more victims. Yet no one was interested,’ he says.

Worse was to come: as the year unfolded, Fulcher learned that Halliwell’s legal team would try to get the charges thrown out on the basis that Fulcher had not adequately followed PACE guidelines.

‘I was prepared — it was the only thing they could do — but I thought reason would prevail,’ he says.

Despite these hopes, Fulcher was wrong. Common sense did not win the day. In January 2012, at a preliminar­y hearing, Mrs Justice Cox ruled the confession obtained by Fulcher was inadmissib­le at trial.

WHILE they could go ahead with Sian’s murder charge, thanks to Halliwell’s DNA on her body, the refusal of Fulcher’s senior officers to further investigat­e Becky’s death, and thus garner evidence, led the Crown Prosecutio­n Service to withdraw that charge.

‘The CPS and senior police figures panicked,’ says Fulcher. ‘Justice Cox got her judgment badly wrong. The CPS should have appealed. Instead, everyone turned on me.’

The following month, he was referred to the Independen­t Police Complaints Commission. ‘I offered to give them full and frank disclosure immediatel­y. I heard nothing for 10 months,’ he recalls.

In the meantime Fulcher was suspended, left ‘ pacing the floor’ at home with worry.

It didn’t end there. The CPS was considerin­g bringing charges against him for malfeasanc­e in public office. ‘I couldn’t believe it,’ he says.

‘This charge usually applies to corrupt officials, not someone dealing with a serial killer.’

The nadir came in January 2014, when he was found guilty of gross misconduct after a hearing at which Karen Edwards, Becky’s mother, accompanie­d him to show her support. It made little difference: while Fulcher was not sacked, he was given a severe reprimand, something he felt left him with no choice but to resign.

‘There had been years of endless worry as they investigat­ed me. I felt my position was untenable,’ he says quietly.

Two-and-a-half years on, Becky Godden’s mother has, at least, seen justice served — in no small part thanks to her own vigorous campaignin­g.

But it need never have been so. The delay in Halliwell’s trial was down to an obsession with procedure, rather than the pursuit of justice.

Yesterday, sentencing judge Sir John Griffith Williams told Halliwell: ‘But for your confession, I have no doubt Becky’s remains would never have been found. You then tried to manipulate the police and court process to try to avoid getting what you deserved.’

They are words Fulcher has waited many years for. ‘The judge said I acted in good faith,’ he says. ‘There is a fundamenta­l flaw in the law when a detective has to refuse a voluntary confession.’

There remains the question of other possible victims. With the deaths of Becky and Sian some eight years apart, Fulcher is convinced there may be undiscover­ed bodies — a sentiment now echoed by other senior officers involved in Halliwell’s conviction this week.

‘There’s no question in my mind Halliwell murdered other girls,’ he says. ‘I made that clear in 2011.’

But back then it seems Wiltshire Police was preoccupie­d with a crusade against an officer for failing to follow procedure — even when obeying it may have prevented two grieving families gaining a final closure.

The worst part, Fulcher says, is none of it’s surprising.

‘The senior echelons aren’t police officers at all. They are puppets blowing with the political wind. Most aren’t concerned with policing on the ground, but are penpushers worried only by self-advancemen­t.’

He emphasises he’s not advocating bending the rules. ‘PACE quite rightly gives protection to the innocent. But without common sense it gives too much protection to the guilty and not the victim,’ he says.

‘And if we’re not protecting the victim then we’re all sunk.’

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 ??  ?? Ruin of a stellar career: Steve Fulcher, his wife Yvonne, the killer he trapped, Christophe­r Halliwell, above, and victim Becky Godden
Ruin of a stellar career: Steve Fulcher, his wife Yvonne, the killer he trapped, Christophe­r Halliwell, above, and victim Becky Godden

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