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Crime Scene: True Stories

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CRIME SCENE: True Stories from the Life of a Forensic Investigator

‘Day after day my life was consumed by killings, distress and gruesome sights, each one adding another piece to an ever-growing mosaic that seemed to be made up of bloodied disposable gloves, plastic bags and human waste. My mind was becoming filled with these remnants, storing them for later …’
When Esther McKay, an idealistic young constable with the NSW police, entered the tough, male-dominated world of forensic investigation, she was determined to hold her own. She soon found herself at deeply confronting crime scenes, often working alone and without supervision. Her cases ranged from a beautiful young girl machetted to death by her jealous boyfriend to the electrocution of a small child, from the Newcastle earthquake victims to the suicide whose body had liquidified in his poisoned car.

Eventually it became too much to bear. After years of long, lonely, exhausting days and nights, and the following a particularly harrowing high-profile case involving the disappearance of two young boys, Esther had a breakdown and was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. She was discharged from the police force hurt in the line of duty, and ultimately began a remarkable journey to recovery.

The book is Esther’s story. Powerful, moving and unforgettable. CRIME SCENE takes us inside the life of a forensic investigator, and reveals as never before the extraordinary demands and dangers of forensic work.
Read more about Crime Scene and Esther…….click here.

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One thought on “Crime Scene: True Stories

  • How annoying, I just spent 15 minutes or more commenting and …. it disappeared. So this one will be shorter.

    I hope Esther is doing ok these days. I can’t imagine how difficult it is/was for her.

    When I joined the job the word PTSD didn’t even exist and there was no support. Someone should have noticed that I had PTSD but….. that’s the way it was.

    I didn’t even know what was wrong with me for a long time and some days, even now, I am angry at the department for destroying my life. Then there are days that I still grieve that job.

    All these years later and I still struggle, it’s ridiculous.

    I hope there is support for Police now and I hope Esther has some sense of peace.

    “Choir practice” must have been never ending for a lot of us I’m sure.
    Today, I hate the NSWP for what that job did to me. I hate the fact that there was nothing to support me (or anyone), there still isn’t to this day for my trauma. What did they even call PTSD back then, I don’t even remember what they called it. Did it have a name?

    Excuse me if this sounds depressing. I’m venting.

    Take care Esther.

    And f^%€ you NSWP for no support then and now.

    Reply

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