I have two question for you Vixen.
It may helps to understand how science and crime scene investigation works in Vixens world...
Question 1:
A sniffer dog on the airport sniffs a suitcase for drugs. The dog sits and barks. This is the sign to show the handler he sniffed drugs. What's to do?
- A) Arrest the owner and send him to prison. No need to open the suitcase. Since the dog is trained to sniff drugs and do this quite accurate it must be drugs. What else would it be?
- B) Open the suitcase and check for drugs. If no drugs are found arrest the owner anyway and send him to prison.
- C) Open the suitcase and check for drugs. If no drugs are found let the owner go or do further investigations.
Question 2:
Footprints revealed by Luminol and attributed to the resident of an apartment are found near a bloody crime scene (apartment). What's to do?
- A) Arrest the resident and send him to prison. No need to check the source of the prints. Since Luminol reacts (amongst others) with blood it must be blood. What else would it be?
- B) Do a follow up test to check if the print was made in blood (e.g. TMB). If the follow up test is negative for blood arrest the resident anyway and send him to prison.
- C) Do a follow up test to check if the print was made in blood (e.g. TMB). If the follow up test is negative do further tests or do not consider it as evidence against the resident.
'It may helps'?
SCENE: Crown court / Assizes / Central Criminal Court
JUDGE: And who do I have in front of me?
BUD: Woof, woof!
Dog interpreter: We have 'ere, y'Honour, police dog Bud, sniffer division.
JUDGE: Tell us your rank and experience.
BUD: <fx series of low growls>
Police dog interpreter: Bud, 'ere, says 'e 'as been with said police force since four weeks old <fx clicks heels; voice raises a few pitches> Sir! Springer spaniel, sir!
JUDGE: <fx leans forward and says in kindly voice> Bud, please tell the court your version of events of 12th Sept 2016.
BUD: Ruff, ruff, grrr, yelp, <fx lifts muzzle> howls...
Dog Interpreter: 'E's says yer 'Honour, he was schlepping around Heathrow, as per normal, when 'e chanced upon a most unseemly waft...
JUDGE <fx leans forward eagerly> Drugs? A cadaver?
BUD: Woof! <fx shakes head, hunkers down>
Dog interpretor: 'E says 'e caught a waft of 'amburger, yer honour, an' it took all 'is willpower to hignore it, y'honour, as 'e was on shift and 'e didn't want Daddy 'urling abuse at 'im.
JUDGE: 'Daddy'?
BUD: <fx whimpers, looks pleadingly at his handler>
Dog Handler: That'll be Police Constable Smith, Sir, 'e gives Bud a treat every time 'e sniff out drugs, yer Honour.
JUDGE: And what might this treat be?
BUD: <fx salivates at memory, sniffs in the air> Grrr rrr woof!
Dog interpreter: 'E gets a mea'y treat, y'Honour.
JUDGE: I see. So every time 'e - er, he - sniffs some drugs, he gets a meaty treat?
BUD: <fx leaps over the dock, places his forelegs on judge's lap and gazes fawningly into the judge's eyes> Yelp.
JUDGE: Bud and I are now best friends.
ATTORNEY FOR THE DEFENCE <fx rises to his feet> Ahem. If I may question the chief witness, M'Lud..
JUDGE: And who are you?
DEFENCE: Mr Wilson85 (for it is he). Now <fx coughs> Mr. er, Bud. I arrived at Heathrow from a holiday in Menorca and you came bounding over to my suitcase, sat down and howled...
BUD: <fx growls menacingly, sits on haunches and barks loudly>
JUDGE: Mr Wilson85, are you in possession of illegal drugs?
MR WILSON85: Er, no, m'Lud, that's Penhaligon's Quercus, a mix of lavender and citrus chypre, M'Lud.
JUDGE: Hmm. Well, get on with it, my good fellow.
MR WILSON85: Now, Mr Bud. You accosted me as I was making my way to baggage reclaim, you little beast.
JUDGE: Order!
MR WILSON85: - Everybody in the airport was staring at me as though I were a drug smuggler <fx grips his lapels; veins throb in his forehead, about to burst a blood vessel> -
JUDGE: You must put a question to the witness.
MR WILSON85: <fx shakes with rage> What about my right to smoke dope if I want to? I'm going to take it to the highest court about the ban on feeling free -
JUDGE <FX BANGS HIS GAVEL> Order, order, in my court.
<fx: Bud leaps down past the clerk and lunges towards the defence. Mr Wilson85 turns and runs for it. Bud races after, sinks his teeth into the seat of Mr Wilson85's trousers; tears off a metre of pinstripe pure new wool fabric and Mr Wilson85 makes a hasty exit out of the court>
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<ends>