David Mery
Thursday September 22, 2005
The Guardian
A London underground station was evacuated and part of a main east-
west line closed in a security alert on Thursday, three weeks after
suicide bombers killed 52 people on the transport network, police
said. (Reuters)
This Reuters story was written while the police were detaining me in
Southwark tube station and the bomb squad was checking my rucksack.
When they were through, the two explosive specialists walked out of
the tube station smiling and commenting: "Nice laptop." The officers
offered apologies on behalf of the Metropolitan police. Then they
arrested me.
7.10 pm: From my workplace in Southwark, south London, I arrange by
text message to meet my girlfriend at Hanover Square. To save time -
as I suppose - I decide to take the tube to Bond Street instead of my
usual bus. I am wearing greenish Merrell shoes, black trousers, T-
shirt, black Gap jumper, light rainproof Schott jacket and grey Top
Shop cap. I am carrying a black rucksack I use as a workbag.
7.21 pm: I enter Southwark tube station, passing uniformed police by
the entrance, and more police beyond the gate. I walk down to the
platform, peering down at the steps as, thanks to a small eye
infection, I'm wearing specs instead of my usual contact lenses. The
next train is scheduled to arrive in a few minutes. As other people
drift on to the platform, I sit down against the wall with my
rucksack still on my back. I check for messages on my phone, then
take out a printout of an article about Wikipedia from inside my
jacket and begin t oread.
The train enters the station. Uniformed police officers appear on the
platform and surround me. They must immediately notice my French
accent, still strong after living more than 12 years in London.
They handcuff me, hands behind my back, and take my rucksack out of
my sight. They explain that this is for my safety, and that they are
acting under the authority of the Terrorism Act. I am told that I am
being stopped and searched because:
· they found my behaviour suspicious from direct observation and then
from watching me on the CCTV system;
· I went into the station without looking at the police officers at
the entrance or by the gates;
· two other men entered the station at about the same time as me;
· I am wearing a jacket "too warm for the season";
· I am carrying a bulky rucksack, and kept my rucksack with me at all
times;
· I looked at people coming on the platform;
· I played with my phone and then took a paper from inside my jacket.
They empty the contents of my pockets into two of their helmets, and
search me, and loosen my belt. One or two trains arrive and depart,
with people getting on and off. Then another train arrives and moves
slowly through the station. The driver is told not to stop. After
that, no more trains pass through the station.
We move away from the platform into the emergency staircase. I sit
down on the (dirty) steps. The police say they can't validate my
address. I suggest they ask the security guard where I work, two
streets away. We go up to the station doors, and I realise that the
station is cordoned off. Two bomb squad officers pass by. One turns
to me and says in a joking tone: "Nice laptop!" A police officer
apologises on behalf of the Metropolitan police, and explains that we
are waiting for a more senior officer to express further apologies.
They take off the handcuffs and start giving me back my possessions:
my purse, keys, some papers. Another police officer says that this is
not proper. I am handcuffed again. A police van arrives and I am told
that I will wait in the back. After about five minutes, a police
officer formally arrests me.
8.53pm Arrested for suspicious behaviour and public nuisance, I am
driven to Walworth police station. I am given a form about my rights.
I make one correction to the police statement describing my
detention: no train passed before I was stopped. I empty my pockets
of the few things they had given me back at the tube station, and am
searched again. My possessions are put in evidence bags. They take
Polaroid photographs of me. A police officer fingerprints me and
takes DNA swabs from each side of my mouth.
10:06pm I am allowed a call to my girlfriend. She is crying and keeps
repeating: "I thought you were injured or had an accident, where were
you, why didn't you call me back?" I explain I'm in a police station,
my phone was taken and the police wouldn't allow me to call. She
wants to come to the station. I ask her to stay at home as I don't
know how long it will take.
10:30pm I am put into an individual police cell. A plainclothes
officer tells me my flat will be searched under the Terrorism Act. I
request that my girlfriend be called beforehand, so that she won't be
too scared. I am asked for her phone number. I don't know it - it is
stored in my phone - so I explain it is with the officer at the desk.
I later find out that they don't call her.
12:25-1:26 am Three uniformed police officers search my flat and
interview my girlfriend. They take away several mobile phones, an old
IBM laptop, a BeBox tower computer (an obsolete kind of PC from the
mid-1990s), a handheld GPS receiver (positioning device with maps,
very useful when walking), a frequency counter (picked it up at a
radio amateur junk fair because it looked interesting), a radio
scanner (receives short wave radio stations), a blue RS232C breakout
box (a tool I used to use when reviewing modems for computer
magazines), some cables, a computer security conference leaflet,
envelopes with addresses, maps of Prague and London Heathrow, some
business cards, and some photographs I took for the 50 years of the
Association of Computing Machinery conference. This list is from my
girlfriend's memory, or what we have noticed is missing since.
3.20am I am interviewed by a plainclothes officer. The police again
read out their version of events. I make two corrections: pointing
out that no train passed between my arrival on the platform and when
I was detained, and that I didn't take any wire out of my pocket. The
officer suggests the computer cables I had in my rucksack could have
been confused for wires. I tell him I didn't take my rucksack off
until asked by police so this is impossible. Three items I was
carrying seem to be of particular interest to the officer: a small
promotional booklet I got at the Screen on the Green cinema during
the screening of The Assassination of Richard Nixon: a folded A4 page
where I did some doodles (the police suspect it could be a map); and
the active part of an old work pass where one can see the induction
loop and one integrated circuit. Items from the flat the police
officer asks about: the RS232C breakout box, the radio scanner and
the frequency counter.
The officer explains what made them change their mind and arrest me.
Apparently, on August 4, 2004, there was a firearms incident at the
company where I work. The next day I find out that there had been a
hoax call the previous year, apparently from a temp claiming there
was an armed intruder. Some staff had also been seen photographing
tube stations with a camera phone. On June 2, as part of a team-
building exercise, new colleagues were supposed to photograph
landmarks and try to get a picture of themselves with a policeman.
4:30am The interviewing officer releases me on bail, without
requiring security. He gives me back most of the contents of my
pockets, including my Oyster card and iPod, and some things from my
rucksack. He says he will keep my phone. I ask if I can have the SIM
card? He says no, that's what they need, but lets me keep the whole
phone. On August 31 I arrive at the police station at 9 am as
required by bail, with my solicitor. A plainclothes police officer
tells us they are dropping the charges, and briefly apologises. The
officer in charge of the case is away so the process of clearing up
my case is suspended until he signs the papers cancelling the bail
and authorising the release of my possessions. The meeting lasts
about five minutes.
I send letters to the data protection registrars of London
Underground, Transport for London, the British Transport police and
the Metropolitan police. The first three letters ask for any data,
including CCTV footage, related to the incident on July 28, while the
final one asks for any data they have on me. They all have 40 days to
respond. On September 8 I talk to my solicitor about ensuring the
police return all my possessions, giving us all the inquiry documents
(which they may or may not do) and expunging police records
(apparently unlikely to happen). The solicitor sends a letter to the
officer in charge of my case conveying to him how upset I am.
I write to my MP about my concerns. The police decided that wearing a
rain jacket, carrying a rucksack with a laptop inside, looking down
at the steps while going into a tube station and checking your phone
for messages just ticked too many boxes on their checklist and makes
you a terrorist suspect. How many other people are not only wrongly
detained but wrongly arrested every week in similar circumstances?
And how many of them are also computer and telecoms enthusiasts,
fitting the police's terrorist profile so well?
While a police officer did state that my rain jacket was "too warm
for the season", could it have been instead that the weather was too
cold for the season? The day before had been the coldest July day for
25 years.
Under current laws the police are not only entitled to keep my
fingerprints and DNA samples, but according to my solicitor, they are
also entitled to hold on to what they gather during their
investigation: notepads of arresting officers, photographs,
interviewing tapes and any other documents they entered in the police
national computer (PNC). So even though the police consider me
innocent there will remain some mention (what exactly?) in the PNC
and, if they fully share their information with Interpol, in other
police databases around the world as well. Isn't a state that keeps
files on innocent persons a police state? This erosion of our
fundamental liberties should be of concern to us all. All men are
suspect, but some men are more suspect than others (with apologies to
George Orwell).
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