Silent witness

The door to the darkened front room opens and a slant of light reveals a bare floor, two low chairs and dark material pinned tightly across the bay windows. One man stands, peering intently out of an eye-level rip in the curtain while another plays back video on a digital camera. They’re deep in concentration.

The door closes and the room returns to darkness. We’re in an anonymous house on a typical street in the run-down area of Everton in Liverpool. It’s 30 October, known locally as “mischief night”, and the men are waiting for any sign that the street outside might suddenly become the scene of antisocial behaviour. This is the world of the “grey men” – the professional witnesses paid to covertly gather evidence of neighbourhood crime when residents are too frightened to stand up in public themselves.

I’m spending the evening with two professional witnesses employed by Liverpool Housing Trust to gather evidence for antisocial behaviour orders. This street is notorious for violent outbursts on the night before Halloween, as Pauline Robinson, policy officer for Liverpool Housing Trust, explains.

“Last year, car tyres were slashed and kids threw eggs and flour at windows. Someone’s car was wrapped up in cellophane and covered in beans and spaghetti.” But residents can’t be persuaded to testify against the perpetrators. So LHT, which owns ?? properties on the road, has decided to use professional witnesses instead.

The police put the the trust in touch with Specialist Intelligence and Security Services (SIASS), experts in surveillance, body guarding and undercover investigations. Two men from SIASS will occupy an empty flat for two weeks over the Halloween and Bonfire Night period to gather evidence during the most likely period for antisocial behaviour.

Robinson has no doubt they will see plenty of violence during their stay. “I’m hoping to get four ASBOs and maybe get enough evidence to go for demotion tenancies on some parents as well,” she says.

The use of undercover surveillance teams is an unusual approach for a housing association, but interest in what they can offer is increasing as the challenge of tackling antisocial behaviour increases.

Bricked-up houses

It’s a chilly evening when Gavin Saul, director of operations at SIASS, picks me up in a nondescript 4x4 (they buy a different car for each job). He’s dressed casually in jeans, trainers and jacket: the aim is not to stand out. Five minutes out of Liverpool city centre, we are in Everton. Although the streets of Victorian terraces look smart and desirable at first, as we get closer it seems like every 10th house is boarded or bricked up, while debris litter the pavements and front gardens – mattresses, old ironing boards, fridges. Razor wire tops some garden walls and the wall of a church.

We park and climb the steps of a mid-row terrace. Saul inhales: “Cordite,” he breathes. “They’ve been playing with fireworks around here.” He raps on the bay window and a moment later the door is opened inwards by an unseen hand.

We've got to look after our personal security – we're up against some really vicious people and we can cause them a lot of trauma. 

Gavin Saul

Inside, the flat is clearly not a home. The floors are bare, and LHT has provided the bare essentials from second-hand salvaged items: a portable cooker in the tiny kitchen, a fridge and a couple of mattresses in the bedroom. Even though the back windows are hung with net curtains, black bin liner has been taped over them to ensure no one can see in.

The job of the undercover surveillance officer, Saul explains, is to penetrate an area or group and gather evidence. On this case, SIASS is using two freelance surveillance workers: Phil (not his real name), tall and serious, who’s staying for two weeks and George (again, not his real name), a friendly, well-built man who will be replaced by a female officer halfway through.

[Kate, do you think we should say a little here about what sort of people do this job; are they ex-army? ex-cops? that sort of thing]

A lot of undercover surveillance is about watching and waiting, as the hushed atmosphere of the front room demonstrates. Saul’s men can sit for hours in the dark, peeping out of the holes in the curtains. This property, with its bay window, is ideal because holes in three curtains give a 180-degree view of the whole road.

Phil says much of what they observe is people’s “normal” behaviour – who lives where, what sort of hours they work and so on – but this is important so they can spot anything unusual.

Anything suspicious is noted in their log books and, if possible, videoed. They use digital and analogue video recorders in case one breaks down, as well as infra-red cameras at night.

However, they are careful only to film “indicators” and won’t film the same spot for a long period because this could lay them open to accusations of invading people’s privacy (fact file).

They also have a hidden camera they can take out with them: Saul demonstrates how a tiny hole in the shoulder strap conceals a camera and wires which feed back to a regular digital camera in the bag. “If you’ve got that on when you’re walking down the road, no one will notice,” he says.

Costly business

Why did that group of boys turn around? It's a subconcious reaction from people who know they're doing wrong

George, professional witness

It’s expensive work: this stint in Liverpool will cost between £9,000 and £10,000. This includes renting the flat, buying a £300 car and fees for each worker of £8400, plus expenses. The city council, Avenue Housing and Riverside Housing Association, are contributing about half and LHT the rest. For two weeks’ intensive 24-hour surveillance targeted at the worst area, Robinson says, it seems a reasonable price to pay.

It’s already starting to pay off: earlier today, Phil and George caught an apparent arson on film after they noticed two boys sitting on the window ledge of an abandoned house. “The next thing there was smoke coming out of that window and the fire brigade were there,” says Saul. Both scenes were videoed and will be given to the police.

“It’s a real result,” Saul adds. “I’m not saying they started the fire, but it will give the police something to work on.”

Over the next few days they also film a physical assault and a group of kids throwing fireworks at houses.

As well as filming and recording suspicious incidents, their other key role is infiltrating the community. The ultimate aim is to become the “grey man”, explains Saul, – someone localse accept and trust without drawing too much attention.

To do this they need a cover story: when they moved in, Phil mentioned to a few neighbours that he was a new tenant and his mate George was staying for a few days. Then Phil’s girlfriend was going to move in after a week. They will also lay an “extraction story” to explain why they leave after a few weeks.

“We might tell the neighbour, ‘I don’t like this flat. I’ve seem another one I prefer. Don’t tell the housing association, but I might do a runner.’ We play on people’s expectations for why we might be around one day but gone the next,” Saul says.

Their secret weapon is a very friendly dog. “A dog is the last thing people expect an undercover team to have,” he adds, “and it’s a breed [which breed] that’s revered in rough areas.” George points out that it provides him with an excellent excuse to patrol the area and distracts attention from him. “People always want to stroke the dog, so they notice the dog rather than me.”

Where their targets are teenagers, it can be relatively easy to gain their trust and gather intelligence from the kids themselves, Saul says. “You make friends with the lads and let them pat the dog. If one of them is having trouble with his bike, you help him fix it and then you’re his friend. It doesn’t take long.” Often they will then speak freely and may inadvertently tip them off about illegal activities. “We’ll put everything about who we spoke to and what they said in our report and we can use that intelligence to target our surveillance.”

Much of what we observe is normal behaviour, like who lives where, but that's important for spotting unusual stuff

Phill, professional witness

Waiting game

But the grey man’s role is only to wait for suspicious behaviour to happen. and they are careful not to do anything that could be described as entrapment. Saul says: “If nothing happens while we’re doing surveillance, it’s disappointing for the client, but we can’t do anything about it. We don’t create the situations.”

Saul believes their work in gathering extra evidence complements the efforts of police – they’re not there to confront trouble. If surveillance officers see a crime happening, they will ring the police, not wade in – not least because this would blow their cover.

They take care to protect their workers from the dangers of the job, he points out. SIASS has a police liaison officer wherever they work so that, if they need to call the police quickly, the address will be flagged up as urgent. For this reason, keeping the cover story secret is vital and he’ll never use officers for a job based near their home because it lays them open to reprisals.

“We’ve got to look after our personal security. We’re working gainst some really vicious people and we can cause them a lot of trauma,” he says.

A stealth operation has certain advantages over traditional policing or security guards though, Saul believes. They are scathing of an article in a local newspaper about a housing association that stationed a guard and a dog outside the house of a woman who was being harassed. Phil says: “They’re using a guy that looks like the old guy from Steptoe and Son and a rotweiller, so they’re drawing attention to that family. Plus, the woman’s on the front of the paper and now the rest of Liverpool knows what she looks like so. That’s just going to increase harassment.”

It would be much better to compile evidence on the harassers before it gets to the papers, Saul says. “This could be done by CCTV – but the cameras are expensive and are targets for vandalism. As CCTV needs people to monitor it, you’re better off getting a proper surveillance team to target an area for a few weeks.”

Later on, George takes me on a reconnaissance drive around the estate and reveals that some of the everday irritants and inconveniences faced by motorists can actually help the surveillance worker. “These roads are covered in speed bumps, which are normally a bad thing but they’re good for us, because it justifies you going slowly.”

As we drive we see a group of four boys walking away from us down the pavement. Just before we reach them we take a sharp left so they don’t see us. We seem to have lost them in the tangle of streets, but George has worked out exactly where they should be. As we turn a corner, he predicts: “If you turn to the right, I bet they’ll be here.” And they are – in the middle of the road in front of us. “They all turned round,” he points out afterwards. “It’s a subconscious reaction from people who are up to no good.”

After four hours with the professional witnesses, I leave them to it. When they leave in a week’s time, all the video and written evidence they’ve collected will be submitted to the police and, if necessary, they will stand up in court and testify against offenders. If everything goes to plan, Robinson will get her ASBOs, her tenants will no longer feel terrorised on their own streets... and the grey men will fade into the background once again.