Article reprinted from Fingerprint Whorld, January 1982 The Chartered Society of Forensic Sciences. (Segments have been edited for publication reasons.)

Some 30 years ago, I was a wide-eyed and bewildered young fingerprint man. After a couple of years of initial training, I was assigned to minor crimes with a photographer. I will refer to him as Arnold.

He carried an ancient Kodak Eastman bellows-type camera, which he was reluctant to remove from its case because he experienced difficulties reconstructing it to its operational state. Therefore, he was not pleased when I discovered a scenes-of-crime mark, which needed to be photographically recorded.

I have always suspected that his office associates used to sabotage the camera by removing a small but important mechanism to get him rattled even before he placed the black cloth over his head.

“Er, Arnold,” I used to breathe, “um, would you photograph this fingerprint, please?”

His face would turn an apoplectic red and, muttering obscenities about the parenthood of fingerprint men in general (and myself in particular), he would remove the various component parts of the camera from the case and survey them with a furrowed brow.

Bearing in mind that his ‘friends’ had removed something vital or replaced something from a different camera, it was obvious that its construction was not going to be simple. Although he was an extremely experienced photographer, I was always somewhat surprised that merely putting the camera together should provide such a formidable problem for him.

Once he had the camera on its tripod, it wobbled about, which was not conducive to recording clear ridge detail. He used string and chewing gum to maintain a stable base.

My scenes-of-crime marks always produced favourable comments from my guv'nors and I modestly inclined my head when receiving their plaudits, not wishing to explain that I was frightened to get Arnold to photograph fingerprints unless they were exceptionally good.

Notwithstanding his many faults, which seemed to me to be psychological, he always gave me advice about fingerprints and crime detection from this particular aspect.

Once, we were called to fingerprint and photograph a decomposed body that had been immersed in water for several months. This was a new experience for me, and Arnold very kindly put my mind at ease by warning me of the perils of decomposition. He explained that horrible germs could be picked up, and wasn’t it a pity that we hadn’t brought any rubber gloves?

The body was on the slab. Arnold immediately lit a cigar, puffing furiously, stating through clenched teeth that it successfully combated the stench of decomposition. He didn’t offer me one, though.

One quick look at the hands convinced me that the epidermis and dermis had not retained any ridge detail, so I declined to touch it.

Arnold then announced his intention of photographing what was left of the face. He said he had successfully dealt with this type of situation quite frequently.

With much nail-biting, he eventually fitted all the parts together on the tripod and asked for a chair to be placed at the foot of the slab by the bloated feet. He stood on the chair and clicked his fingers for me to hand him the camera and tripod. He placed his feet on both sides of the slab, lifted the tripod, and carefully fitted it in place.

“Climb up behind me and put the black cloth over my head,” he ordered.

I considered this to be a risky operation but, with the prestige of my department at stake, I did as directed. I carefully descended the chair and … there was Arnold, utterly delighted, gradually moving the camera’s lens to focus on the face.

Arnold’s initial forward movement was imperceptible; only an alert eye would have noticed. Gradually, though, gravity took over, and while Arnold didn’t realise it, the tripod, camera, black cloth and chiefly himself were descending irrecoverably upon the body.

My eyes were closed when the impact occurred, although the sickening squelch will haunt me forever.

People said that Arnold was elderly and should have retired some time ago, but the alacrity with which he parted company with the corpse indicated that he possessed fantastic physical reflexes.

He retired shortly after this incident.