On Harrow Hill

“The hell does that mean?” There was an angry vibe in the wiry young man that went beyond challenging an assertion—a vibe that did not bode well for a positive career in law enforcement. Gurney didn’t want to derail the lesson by confronting that issue now.

He addressed the whole class. “I’ll give you some more information. Then maybe someone can tell me what it means. Altogether, six witnesses to the incident were interviewed and submitted signed statements. According to those statements, one participant in the confrontation had a gun, the other had the gun, they both had guns. The individual who was shot was a dark-skinned African American in his twenties, or a light-skinned Hispanic teenager. He was solid-looking, he was thin, he was medium height, he was short. The other participant was wearing a black leather jacket, a dark shirt with no jacket, a brown windbreaker. The confrontation prior to the gunshot lasted five seconds, thirty seconds, more than a minute. They argued with each other, or they didn’t speak at all.” He paused. “What do you make of all that?”

“Jeez,” muttered the farm-boy cadet. “Sounds like the witnesses were on something.”

Gurney shrugged. “In the opinion of the officer conducting the interviews, all six witnesses were sober and credible.”

“Yeah, but . . . somebody got shot, so somebody had a gun. So, which one had it?”

Gurney smiled. “Right statement, wrong question.”

That resulted in a baffled silence, broken by a big bodybuilder with a shaved head in the back row. “Asking which one had the gun is the wrong question?”

“Right.”

The bodybuilder cadet squinted thoughtfully before replying. “Because they both had guns?”

“Or . . . ?” prompted Gurney.

“Neither one had a gun?”

“And if that were the case . . . ?”

The silence was broken this time by a voice from the middle of the room. “Someone else fired the shot!”

“That’s exactly what was confirmed by the only objective witness,” said Gurney.

That last phrase prompted some puzzled looks.

He waited to see if anyone would catch on.

The cadet in the first row who had asked for repeated readings was the first to speak up. “Was ‘the only objective witness’ a transit surveillance video?”

Gurney gave her an appreciative nod. “The video established the position of the victim at the moment he was hit. During autopsy a reconstruction of the path of the bullet indicated the probable position of the shooter relative to the victim’s entry wound. Transferring that trajectory back to the video revealed a young man in the crowd taking a small pistol-shaped object from his pocket and pointing it toward the victim. Immediately after the moment of impact, he returned the object to his pocket and walked quickly toward the platform exit, where he—”

The angry cadet interrupted. “You’re telling us that none of the witnesses could hear what direction the shot came from?”

“The brain’s greatest strength, the ability to create instant connections, can be its greatest weakness. All the witnesses thought they saw a gun in the hand of at least one of the participants in the confrontation. A moment later they heard a gunshot. They all connected the sound with the visual image. Their brains discounted the directional component of their hearing in favor of visual logic: you see what you think is a gun, you hear a gunshot, your brain automatically puts them together. And your brain is almost always right.”

The bodybuilder was frowning. “But didn’t you say that neither one of them actually had a gun? So . . . the witnesses who claimed they saw one . . . what did they actually see?”

“A cell phone.”

That led to the longest silence so far—no doubt reminding many in the room of the tragic news stories involving that very mistake being made by stressed police officers.

The farm-boy cadet looked appalled. “So, the witnesses were wrong about everything?”

“It happens,” said Gurney.

A cadet directly in front of him raised his hand. “What’s the bottom line on this? It sounds like we shouldn’t even bother taking eyewitness statements.”

“Statements can be helpful,” said Gurney. “But the bottom line is caution. Keep an open mind. Remember that eyewitnesses can be very credible—and very inaccurate. And the problem carries over into courtrooms. Eyewitness testimony, which is actually the least reliable evidence, is the most persuasive. And it’s not because anyone is lying. The fact is, people often see things that aren’t really there.”

The angry cadet piped up. “Mental cases, maybe. Idiots who don’t pay attention. Trust me—when I look at something, I see what’s there.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Gurney with a pleasant smile. “It’s a perfect introduction to a pair of animations I think you’ll enjoy.” He opened a laptop computer on the podium and switched on the projector.