Mahatma Gandhi once observed, “An error does not become truth by reason of multiplied propagation, nor does truth become error because nobody sees it.”
As various disciplinary consequences befall members of the Pine Bluff Police Department who were involved with collection of evidence in the Cleashindra Hall investigation, Gandhi’s sage admonishment bears deep consideration. As a starting point, all parties would likely agree that something less than an ideal chain of custody exists with regard to evidence collected at the home of Larry Amos.
Weak chains of custody undermine any prosecutorial efforts predicated on the evidence. Depending upon whose characterization of events one wants to believe, either there was no break in the chain and any evidence collected can be positively accounted for at all points; or there was a discernable break (or at least a weakness) in the chain connected to Lt. Bob Rawlinson’s actions between collection and turning the evidence over to crime scene technicians.
Regardless what one wishes to believe, the police administration has journeyed into an unresolvable catch-22. On one hand, Rawlinson was suspended for two days (and suffered an extremely coincidental reassignment) because he violated departmental policy with regard to evidence handling — an act presumptively serious to have had a negative impact on the chain of evidence. On the other, Capt. Greg Shapiro told the Commercial that “the evidence wasn’t compromised” in a story that appeared on July 21.
In short, either Rawlinson and crime scene technician Cathy Ruhl (who was likewise suspended in connection with the evidence handling) were punished because their actions/inactions were sufficient to damage the chain, which contradicts Shapiro; or they have been punished for actions/inactions that had no effect on the chain. The department cannot have it both ways — regardless of any attempt to make semantic distinctions between policy and result.
Independent reporting for Pine Bluff & Jefferson County since 1879.
Of this whole sordid morass a few “truths” are indisputable. First among these is the fact that a grieving family has yet again been punished by a quibbling police administration.
Second, the lead detective on the Clea Hall case is now a night shift patrol supervisor, despite his professed zeal for the case.
Third, Ruhl, whose professionalism was lauded by her co-workers on local social media sites, has suffered longer suspension than Rawlinson for faults that appear not fully of her own making.
Fourth, if Rawlinson, a veteran officer, supervisor and respected investigator, violated departmental policy in such an egregious manner, then the administration has clearly failed to properly train officers on the intricacies of evidence handling.
Fifth, at a time when the local murder rate is soaring and public fear of crime is palpable, the police administration appears to expend a lot of effort avoiding reputational self-immolation.
On the plus side, Chief of Police Brenda Davis-Jones broke a long-standing custom by communicating directly with the media instead of going through an intermediary. We hope this deviation will become a new norm. This in itself brings us to another noted observation about the nature of truth.
The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once wrote, “All things are subject to interpretation. Whichever interpretation prevails at a given time is a function of power and not truth.”
To parse the sentiment another way, just because a person has the pulpit to voice their version more loudly than others, bears little on the veracity of their message. There are important lessons here. We hope someone will notice.