“I blamed myself for many years because I never said goodbye” - PC Dave Bishop, 40 years on from his PC father’s murder

In August 1984, PC Brian Bishop was shot when apprehending an armed robber in Frinton. He died five days later in hospital.

His son, Dave, was just ten years old at the time. In 2001, Dave joined Essex Police and is currently part of Colchester Community Policing Team.

To mark National Police Memorial Day, Dave reflects on his father’s tragic death and the lasting impact on him and his family.

Brian “Bill” Bishop was known as a gentle giant. A towering 6' 7", he was nicknamed Bill as a cadet after officers said his hairstyle reminded them of American folk hero Wild Bill Hickok.

Bill formally joined Essex Police in August 1966 as Police Constable 389. After spells in Colchester and as a dog handler, he joined the Force Support Unit (FSU) and subsequently became a firearms instructor.

Bill married Susan, a fellow Colchester officer, in June, 1967. Dave was born in 1974.

Dave said Bill was a “very caring Dad” who dedicated his life to his family. He had a sarcastic sense of humour and was a big sports fan, playing tennis and cricket with Dave and encouraging his running and judo.

On 22 August 1984, Dave was at the family home in Chelmsford on his school summer holiday when Bill briefly popped back before heading out on a job.

The FSU had been called to Central Avenue, Frinton, following reports that a man had robbed two post offices with a sawn-off shotgun and hidden cash there.

Bill - the acting sergeant - and his colleagues laid in wait for the robber to return for his money. When he reappeared, Bill confronted him but was shot in the head using a gun concealed in a carrier bag. Bill’s colleague Mervyn Fairweather was hit in the groin.

Dave has clear memories of the events that followed.

“It was a warm night and our house backed onto a school playing field where there was a party going on. Because of that I couldn’t get to sleep.

“At half ten at night, there’s a knock at the door. Being a nosy 10-year-old, I’m at the top of the stairs. I just hear crying and lots of voices. The lounge door was shut.

“Then our neighbour came to get me, and Mum was taken off. For the next five days, I was at a family friend’s house in Southend. I was being sheltered from it.

“I only came home when Dad had passed. I vividly remember a colleague of Dad’s, Monty Montgomerie, explaining that when a car’s engine stops, it’s the brain of the car and the car doesn’t work anymore. He said Dad’s engine had stopped and he wouldn’t be coming home.

Dave went back to school between the murder and the funeral. He wasn’t offered any counselling or additional support, and remembers his new teacher saying Bill’s funeral procession at Chelmsford Cathedral had made her late for work.

“I’d get people telling me that I was the man of the house now, that I’ve got to look after my mum,” said Dave. “Suddenly everyone in Chelmsford knew who I was. It was on the news, in all the papers. My face was on everyone’s coffee table.

“Everyone at school knew about me and my family. It was surreal.”

The gunman, Colin Richards, was shot by one of Bill’s colleagues and paralysed from the waist down. He was sentenced to life in prison in 1985 but was released after 17 years.

For Dave, the memory of the final time he saw his dad was a source of bitter regret and pain well into adulthood.

“On the day it happened, Dad had come home to get changed and I’d seen him cycle off when I was playing in the back garden. I beat myself up and I blamed myself for many years because I never said goodbye. That’s why I always make sure I tell my children I love them before I leave the house.”

Dave was keen on joining the police after he left school but his mum – who continued to work in policing and became involved in the Police Memorial Trust – talked him out of it.

“Policing looked after Mum incredibly well and she stayed until retirement, but she wasn’t keen on me joining. She’s lost her husband and didn’t want to lose her son as well but once she retired, I put my application in.

“One day I told her I had a new job and she smiled and said, ‘You’ve joined, haven’t you?” After that, she took a massive interest in my career.

“Some of Dad’s colleagues were still with the force when I joined. They’d tell me I was just like Dad, which I can only take as a compliment.”

After a career that has seen Dave work as a detective in Clacton CID and spend twelve years as a Field Intelligence Officer, four years ago he went back to his first love of neighbourhood policing when he joined Colchester Community Policing Team.

He said what happened to his dad means he’s never complacent about safety and he believes there should be greater recognition of the potential the threat to officers.

“I don’t think the public always appreciate the danger that police officers are in on a daily basis. Every house we go to, someone could open the door with a knife. Every person we stop search could have a weapon.

“What happened to Dad and Ian Dibell (who was shot dead in Clacton in 2012) is tragic and incredibly rare, but it could happen to any of us at any time.”

Now four decades on, and with Bill’s generation of officers long retired, Dave said he appreciates being more anonymous than he once was within the force but he remains as dedicated as ever to serving the people of Essex.

He still retains links to his dad’s colleagues and in a twist of fate, now lives just 30 yards away from Mervyn Fairweather, the other officer shot in the incident.

“Mervyn told me that Dad would be proud I followed in his footsteps, and that means a lot.”

Essex Police Memorial Trust | Essex Police