The death of Ian Tomlinson leaves several uncomfortable questions unanswered. The initial response of the police was that they had had no involvement with him before he collapsed, and that when he did collapse police medical officers tried to treat him despite a barrage of missiles which made their support and care for him more difficult. It was only the fortuitousness of the video taken, unbeknown to the police, by a City worker that caused this story of helpfulness to unravel. The video made it clear thata in fact he had been assaulted from behind at least once by a police officer (a member of the Territorial Support Group often deployed to deal with potentially violent situations) with a baton before being pushed over roughly to the ground. Even more telling, the video reveals that several other police officers witnessed the incident, but stood around offering no help. Nor could anyone recall missiles being thrown when Tomlinson collapsed. It therefore appears that the police constructed a false account of the event in order to put themselves in a good light, and only changed it when incontrovertible evidence came to light which indicated they had been lying or at least selective with the truth. The question then arises: was this a panic reaction in one unique incident, or is this a pattern which needs to be dealt with?

The multiple changes in the police account of the killing of Jean Charles de Menezes indicates that the story change in the case of Ian Tomlinson was not unique. It might well be seen to happen more frequently if the Chief Police Officers’ Manual of Guidance on Police Use of Firearms did not allow officers to ‘confer over notes’ after a fatality. This ‘closing of ranks’ (not confined to police officers, but endemic in most professions and occupations) is virtually an invitation to concert an agreed account and to brush out any inconvenient bits of evidence which may suggest a very different explanation.
Worse, there is likelihood that the production of evidence which may contradict a police story may well be blocked in future. Section 76 of the Counter-Terrorism Act 2008 permits a person to be arrested who takes a photograph or film of the police which could be useful to someone preparing an act of terrorism. Operating this provision in this case could have pre-empted any charge of criminal assault being brought.
There are other suspicious aspects of this case which could undermine the integrity of the police in the eyes of the public. The first post mortem was held with unseemly haste and conducted by a forensic pathologist who had previously been reprimanded about his professional conduct by the General Medical Council. It is surprising that the post mortem was not carried out by the Forensic Pathology Services which include 9 independent forensic pathologists who normally deal with suspicious deaths in London. Who then chose the first pathologist, and on what grounds? The family and the IPCC felt sufficient disquiet over this matter that they ordered a secon post mortem.
These uneasy doubts about the assault on Tomlinson and his subsequent death warrant a public inquiry that goes wider than the IPCC investigation. It needs to stop, once and for all, police officers colluding together to align their accounts to protect themselves after a particularly ‘dodgy’ incident. And in the light of previous cases where initial police evidence has subsequently been revised on production of contrary evidence, it should significantly reinforce the sanctions, including dismissal, against any police officer found to have concealed or distorted evidence which could subvert the course of justice.

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