A Load of Cr*p

I sat at my desk with a coffee at about 0645 hours. I start at 0700.
I had a flick through emails, responding to some and flagging others to deal with later.

The control room called up: "Any CSI on the air?"

I replied "CSI Guy, go ahead, over"

They passed me a log number that needed attendance as a priority as the owner was waiting to leave.

It was a break in at a nightclub. The manager had been working all night and wanted to get going.

I arrived by about 0725, missing most of the traffic on the way there.

I knew of the nightclub, but hadn't been to it. This would be the first time I see the inside.

As I pulled up to park the van, I couldn't see any obvious signs of a break in. There was a small blue Fiesta in the car park, that must be the manager'. I'll park there.

The manager opened the door before I knocked. He must have seen me coming.

"SOCO ain't it?"

Technically it's CSI, but hey, SOCO works for me.

"Yes fella, what've we got here then?"

I followed the manager in the door. I could smell stale alcohol and sweat. We walked past five or six large wheelie bins full of glass bottles.

"Busy night?" I asked.

"It was alright, bloody student night wasn't it?"

I laughed. No idea what he meant.

We walked through the nightclub. My feet stuck to the carpet each time I took a step.

We went through the bar area and along a corridor. The break in was in the office space upstairs.

As the manager opened the door, there was an awful smell.

I didn't say anything incase that was normal here.

The manager was pointing out rooms that had been broken into, drawers that had been opened and the space where the safe use to be.

And then he said "And I've been told to leave this for you"

He was talking about the smelliest pile of faeces I had ever seen.

"Right" was my reply. This was a surprise to me. No one had mentioned this before I attended.

It turns out an offender had entered the office area whilst the club was open and the staff were busy with 'the bloody students'. The offender had a sudden urge to defecate and couldn't make his way to the toilet at the other end of the corridor so squatted down at the top of the stairs.

I'm also assuming that he had no toilet roll. There was a brown swipe across the Health and Safety poster on the wall.

It's before 0800, I've had no breakfast and I'm about to scoop up someone else's excrement.

Oh Joy.

I'm not touching this stuff without a suit and a mask. There is no chance that any of that is ending up on me.

I want to keep the pile as a pile. I've got some tubs the size of a small ice cream tub in the van. I'll use one of those.

This is going to be a tricky mission. The success of this depends on the consistency of said faeces. I get a piece of acetate that is usually used in footwear recovery. I slide it slowly into the base of the pile and push. It works it's way through and underneath.

All sorts of smells are now hitting me. My face is no more than two feet away. This stinks.

I hold the stool on the acetate in my right hand and without moving my eyes off of it, I slide the tub closer with my left hand.  It goes in, just. The lid is touching the top of it.

I pull the poster down and roll it on itself.

I recover a few fingerprints and take some photos.

The prints didn't give me a match against anyone.

The faeces are sent off to the lab. This costs a fortune; probably because the task is so unpleasant.

Thankfully I got a name from the faeces and the guy is locked up for the job.