Keeper of the vault
She walks the courthouse hallway in sensible loafers, a cardboard box swinging gently at her side. She’s 57 and 5 feet 3, wears her hair short and curly and her glasses big and round. You don’t wonder where she’s headed. She doesn’t want you to. Her photo ID hangs backward so you can’t see her job title: director of evidence.
She doesn’t want you to know that box of hers contains a gun used in a police shootout.
Or that the door at the end of the hallway leads to a bank-grade vault, stuffed with rifles and jewels and bricks of cocaine.
Shirley Eade, who spends her days watching over the most notorious pieces of evidence to ever nail a Hillsborough murderer, prefers to be invisible.
But you if want to see Willie Crain’s toilet seat, or Valessa Robinson’s jug of bleach, or Hank Earl Carr’s handcuff key, you need to see Eade first.
And you need to follow her rules…