Two and a half stars. I picked this up because I enjoy forensic science memoirs—my brain processes them, for reasons unknown, as relaxing reading—and was looking for something straightforward after a couple of less plot-forward pieces of literary fiction. Fysh worked as a forensic scientist in the UK, and in Shallow Graves he details some of the cases he worked on while serving as specialist advisor for major crime, a role created to ease some of the friction between scientists and police.
But if that job description isn't entirely clear to you: It isn't entirely clear to me, either. I'm sure the work Fysh did was important, but I never quite worked out what it involved, beyond setting up meetings and making scathing comments about underpaid lab techs who didn't want to work weekends. And that's okay—the cases are usually the more interesting part anyway—but I tired of the same phrasing over and over (breakthrough, groundbreaking, little did I know), and of people being named and getting disappointed-dad face and finger-wagging when they made decisions other than the ones Fysh would have liked to see. But one person couldn't wait that long before spouting off to the media[...] Not for the first time, the ego and vanity of an academic floored me (233).
There's one moment that I wish had been discussed in more detail—Fysh describes a case that stretched on for almost two decades in which about all the forensic evidence the police had to go on was some DNA...which only solves the case if you can find a match. In this case, they narrowed the DNA profile down to 'Black Caribbean man' but couldn't get all that much further, so they sought to take 'voluntary' (my ass) DNA tests from 1,000 or so Black men in the area.
For obvious reasons, this concerned people. When it emerged that five of the men who'd refused to provide a sample had been arrested, civil rights group Liberty took up the cause (263). But...that's where Fysh leaves it. It feels really odd—he refers to other people's 'initial misgivings about the highly sensitive nature of racial profiling' (262), observes that oh yes! some Black men were arrested for being Black!, and then...moves on. No discussion to the lines of 'I also had ethical concerns' or 'my only problem with this was that it didn't work' or even resolution for the arrested men. It's really odd and leaves me thinking that Fysh's concern was more that the racial profiling hadn't produced the results they'd wanted.
Ultimately just not the book I'd hoped for. I'm clearly in the minority, so I'm sure this will be a better fit for other readers.