THERE were threats from Albert Dryden long before the date of the ill-fated attempt to demolish his bungalow on June 20, 1991.

By many, these were taken as merely the rantings of an impassioned eccentric, who would never follow them through.

But at the same time, few doubted that Dryden had a volatile nature - and a passion for guns and rockets.

Evidence of his violent tendencies was clear three months before the fatal shooting of planning officer Harry Collinson, when he went to Dryden's home at Butsfield, near Consett, with Derwentside Council colleague Jim Wright, to serve a court summons.

After a confrontation, Dryden chased Mr Wright across a field, during which Mr Wright lost his glasses. Mr Collinson ran after the men and, as he approached, Dryden turned to him and, with two fingers tucked ominously under his chin, growled: "The next time you come up here, there will be a bullet here."

He then turned to Mr Wright and said: "The next person to go up to Butsfield from the council will have his brains blown out."

These threats were enough to shake both officers, who made complaints to the police. A file was sent to the Crown Prosecution Service but was later returned to Consett police station with the words: "No Further Action".

Dryden proceeded to issue wild threats on an almost daily basis until June 20, 1991. With these in mind, concerned council officers and contractors met police officers two days before the shooting.

The role of the police, it was decided, was to control traffic flow on Eliza Lane and act in the event of any breach of the peace. Although the police pointed out it may be best if the demolition was tackled discreetly, Mr Collinson was keen for everything to be out in the open.

David Blackie writes: "Listening to the council officers, they were united in their concern about the eccentricity of Dryden, knowing the extensive history of threats against their fellows. They were also aware of the rumours and tales of Dryden's affinity for firearms. They communicated their disquiet to the police.

"Whilst obviously taking this into account in making decisions regarding their deployment of manpower, it is apparent that the police were oblivious to intelligence which was available to them. Local knowledge is a necessary tool of the police officer, especially in a rural force. It was quite apparent that no effort had been sought to consult with those officers who had, or were likely to come into contact with Albert Dryden on a day-to-day basis, or had known him over a period of time. This omission to gather information was to have disastrous consequences."

Early on Thursday, June 20, 1991, at Consett police station, a number of officers gathered, along with a dog handler and a paramedic, to be briefed. According to Mr Blackie, the paramedic had been told by his boss that, although highly unlikely, there was an outside chance of a firearms incident and he was required to standby at Consett police station.

The hushed room heard that the intention for the day was to keep the peace. Dryden was described as an eccentric character, who "might put up a bit of a fight", but no trouble was anticipated as the council was prepared to back off at any sign of resistance. At no point was the possibility of firearms mentioned. The armed response vehicle was at Consett police station to stand by, "just in case the wheel came off," writes Mr Blackie.

A firearms officer and tactical advisor, Mr Blackie, then a sergeant, was on an exercise when he was told to take the firearms team to Butsfield.

Dryden was arrested thanks to the bravery of a number of officers. But it was when the horror of the day was sinking in that the planning came into serious question by a number of concerned officers.

Superintendent Ned Lawson, of Consett Police, who has since passed away, was interviewed by Mr Blackie for his book. He told him: "That's really when all the trouble and acrimony started, because there were all sorts of allegations and counter-allegations flying about that I knew nothing about.

"The main question seemed to be that if senior police officers didn't think there was any danger there at all from Dryden in respect of firearms, then why were armed officers on standby? Which they were, but I knew nothing about it."

Mr Blackie also cites another, unnamed, police officer as saying: "There was a lot of finger-pointing and there were accusations that there had been a bit of a cover-up and that everything wasn't placed on the table, either on the Tuesday night at the meeting with the council or in the aftermath - that there was information that had been available to certain senior officers, but it had never been made available to other people, or passed on, and not a lot of quality intelligence or pre-planning had gone into the initial operation."

When Mr Collinson's grieving brothers, Roy and Frank, turned up at Consett police station, they bombarded police with their questions, writes Mr Blackie.

"Amongst their many questions, they asked if the police had known that Dryden was armed and whether they had handled the situation in the right manner. Ned Lawson did not feel able to answer that question honestly, so he said nothing.

"This concern regarding planning for the event was reflected in various areas of the police force itself. On the Friday morning, the firearms tactical advisors gathered in their office and it would be an understatement to say that discontent was rife.

"Much was made of the fact that there had been no consultation regarding what was, in effect, a pre-planned firearms incident. As they saw it, an integral part of the operational order was the inclusion of an armed response vehicle and, as such, it was pre-planned and warranted their advice, which would have resulted in a completely different plan."

Sergeant John Taylor, who was in charge of the firearms team and who eventually arrested Dryden, told Mr Blackie that the training department knew nothing of the Butsfield operation.

"I think we should have been consulted at least, and asked for advice and assistance - after all part of our role is to give tactical advice," he said.

Mr Blackie said: "Had that advice been requested, two options would have been offered: an early morning raid on the strength of a warrant to search for firearms away from the attentions of the Press; or the presence of a number of covertly armed officers at the scene, not at Consett police station where they were of little value. The tactical advisor's preferred choice would have, unequivocally, been for the early morning raid option."

Sgt Taylor and other officers raised their concerns with their superiors with a view to holding an in-house debriefing. It was initially refused.

Mr Blackie also writes that he was "warned off" by his boss who told him that "at least one of the executive officers was very prickly about the whole Butsfield situation".

Undeterred, Mr Blackie met in secret with Bill Clementson, secretary of the Durham Constabulary Federation Office, the police union.

He shared his concerns about the way the incident was handled and how they had not consulted a firearms tactical officer - a view shared by some other officers. He showed him a copy of the operation order, which revealed that the armed response vehicle was placed on standby at Consett police station.

"If that's not a pre-planned operation, I don't know what is," said Mr Blackie.

A de-briefing was eventually held but Mr Blackie recalled many officers were not satisfied with the result. It only stuck to "elements of the incident and subsequent events", and not pre-planning.

"As they left the meeting, many felt that an opportunity had been missed for the constabulary to come to terms with the consequences of an error of judgement which might, or might not, have saved Harry Collinson's life," writes Mr Blackie.