The Dawn Sturgess Inquiry: Unveiling Events in Salisbury and London

Salisbury, a small city in Wiltshire that garnered international focus in 2018 following a remarkable assassination attempt, has again experienced a period of intense public scrutiny. Over the past six weeks, the Dawn Sturgess Inquiry drew global media attention. For journalists covering the proceedings, each session unveiled new information. The inquiry presented a dramatic sequence of events, combining elements of espionage with poignant family testimonies, captivating observers. Entering the Guildhall’s substantial wooden doors in October conveyed the seriousness of an independent inquiry. Security measures included handheld scanners, similar to those at airports, and bag inspections; beverages were permitted only after a sip was taken in front of security personnel. Prominent purple signs, emblazoned with “The Dawn Sturgess Inquiry” in bold white lettering, were visible throughout the venue. Lord Hughes, the chair, commenced the sessions by emphasizing the primary purpose: to remember that Ms Sturgess, a 44-year-old mother-of-three, died in the Novichok attacks. While many local residents supported the inquiry, on that chilly, humid morning before it began, a comment was overheard: “We know what happened, what’s the point of dragging all this up?” The objective of the inquiry was, naturally, to formally document the true events of 2018, a process perceived as a significant historical juncture for Salisbury. The Guildhall, typically a venue for craft fairs, weddings, and art exhibitions, served as the setting for these proceedings. A small plaque, located directly in front of the observers’ seating, honored local individuals who had been present in that room due to the agricultural riots of 1830. This offered an immediate appreciation of history and the passage of time, alongside the understanding that the Novichok poisonings had become a substantial element of Salisbury’s identity and its historical narrative. Continuous new information emerged, such as the detail that former Russian spy Sergei Skripal was not under surveillance by counter-terrorism police, and that local emergency services had not received extra training on nerve agent poisoning symptoms following the initial attack on Mr Skripal and his daughter. The inquiry’s presence in Salisbury was brief before it relocated to London to address more sensitive intelligence. Proceedings continued near St Paul’s Cathedral, within a modern, purpose-built corporate facility. Certain sessions conducted there were more confidential, with the names, faces, and even voices of some witnesses concealed from the video broadcast. Access was restricted to only three accredited journalists, who were prohibited from bringing any electronic devices for external communication; even smartwatches had to be removed. This necessitated a traditional pen-and-paper approach to reporting. Observing this process was a tumultuous experience, shifting from discussions of espionage and contaminated door handles to the profound silence as Dawn’s mother, Caroline, read her statement. Following her opening words, “I’m Caroline Sturgess, Dawn’s mother”, a collective sigh was heard from those present, a natural response to a parent speaking about her daughter’s death in such a prominent forum. Her hand trembled as she held her document. She characterized her daughter as “intelligent…extremely selfless and very kind person”. The inquiry included several genuinely startling instances. A new CCTV recording, showing the already-poisoned Mr Skripal giving a small boy bread to feed ducks, surprised all observers. The boy subsequently became unwell, though tests confirmed no chemical poisoning. An unsettling moment was viewing CCTV footage of the Russian suspects in Salisbury snow, using their mobile phones, apparently attempting to locate his residence. Furthermore, it was a significant disclosure to hear Mr Skripal’s statement, “I never thought the Russian regime would have tried to murder me in UK, they could’ve killed me easily when in prison”. Conversely, the inquiry also delved into what appeared to be very mundane specifics. Observers now possess perhaps excessive knowledge regarding Wiltshire Council waste collection schedules, hospital employee shift rotations, and the configuration of city center parking facilities. While an inquiry can often be a highly formal procedure, involving legal professionals examining the premature death of a British citizen, this particular one was frequently marked by intense emotion. Former Wiltshire Police Det Sgt, Nick Bailey, who became ill after contact with a nerve agent-contaminated door handle, showed clear emotion when questioned about the poisonings’ effect on his life, responding only with a silent nod and a gaze downwards. He subsequently left the police force due to persistent health problems resulting from the attack. Certain emergency service personnel appeared genuinely anxious as they attempted to recall details from shifts over six years prior, seemingly concerned about making an error. However, there were also instances of levity. Ross Cassidy, Mr Skripal’s friend and former Salisbury neighbor, recounted with a noticeable sparkle in his eye their shared experiences of drinking and barbecuing. “We certainly would,” he stated with a smile. He even elicited hesitant smiles, and arguably laughter, from the legal teams when he disclosed that he might have driven above the speed limit while transporting Sergei and Yulia from Heathrow Airport. He reaffirmed this point when questioned about arriving home promptly that evening. He remarked: “Well as I said, I was speeding.” Andrew O’Connor KC, counsel to the Inquiry, responded: “Well I wasn’t going to mention that Mr Cassidy.” A particularly impactful testimony came from paramedic Ben Channon, who responded to Charlie Rowley’s flat when Rowley became ill several hours after Dawn Sturgess. Channon was the first to articulate that he had personally experienced the Salisbury poisonings and witnessed the events unfold. He informed the inquiry that he was indeed afraid, both for his patient and for himself, and this apprehension remained apparent in his testimony six years later. Amidst the inquiry’s complex developments, it would have been simple to overlook its fundamental purpose, yet Lord Hughes’ initial remarks resonated consistently. However, during the creation of our podcast, “Crime Next Door: The Salisbury Poisonings,” we resolved to strive for justice for Ms Sturgess and her family through our narrative of this extraordinary event. We trust that we have achieved this objective. For ongoing updates, BBC Wiltshire is accessible on Facebook, X, and Instagram. Story submissions can be sent via email or WhatsApp to 0800 313 4630. Copyright 2024 BBC. All rights reserved. The BBC disclaims responsibility for the content of external sites. Details on its approach to external linking are available.