Just as it seemed that the gunmen had met their match, Owen Ellington and, before him, Reneto Adams — two of Jamaica’s best crime fighters — left the field of battle, to the consternation of the public.

In the absence of any clear, official and unequivocal explanation for their departure, the most retweeted story among ordinary Jamaicans was that the lawmen were pushed.

But with the country in near panic as the murder toll soars above the 1,000 mark and a long four months still to go in 2017, the question is why and in whose interest were the two men who put gunmen and rogue cops to flight decommissioned.

Few, if any, dispute that Ellington, who departed the job in late 2014, was the best commissioner of police in the history of the 162-year-old Jamaica Constabulary Force (JCF).

Even fewer would disagree that Adams, who left in late 2009, was the most fearless cop, the most loved and respected among the populace and the most feared by gunmen in his time.

Both men accepted that evil perpetually slumbers in the dark, waiting to pounce at any given moment and that the nation needed men and women who were courageous and willing to confront the scum of society and to eliminate it if necessary, to protect decent and law-abiding Jamaicans.

It is known that, in the case of Ellington, the Americans pressured to have him removed, even going as far as cancelling his US visa, without ever proving any wrongdoing against him.

Adams, for his part, was bitterly opposed by the British who worked with Jamaican underlings in the human rights community to hound him out of the force. Again, no wrongdoing was ever proven against him.

The second question is, could not the British and Americans see that Jamaica, under-resourced and with a limited talent pool, was literally under the gun of the criminals and needed its best on the frontline?

Both Ellington and Adams were career policemen and among the most prepared for the job, despite following different paths in their separate stories.

A year out of police training school and only 20 in 1981, Ellington found himself working in the registry of the JCF Administration Branch at 105 Old Hope Road, St Andrew, serving in close proximity to the then commissioner of police, Desmond Campbell.

He spent four years at Administration Branch working directly with Deputy Commissioner Ruddy Hamilton whom he once described as “the sharpest, brightest, most knowledgeable policeman I have ever met”.

Over two stints, Ellington also served under several commissioners, including with William “Bill” Bowes, who was followed by the controversial Joe Williams, a man Ellington described as “a straight shooter from the hip who believed in taking the fight to criminals and driving fear in the hearts of gunmen”. Williams was also a disciplined commissioner who was “tough and uncompromising”.

From Bowes’ successor, Herman Ricketts, Ellington learned to place strong emphasis on training and development. From Commissioner Roy Thompson who took Ricketts’ place, he developed “a heart for the men and women on the frontline”.

From Col Trevor MacMillan who worked to depoliticise the force, he learned to appreciate the importance of the JCF enjoying an excellent public image and trust. An inspector at the time, Ellington served as MacMillan’s staff officer, a sort of personal assistant who would handle his research, administrative and quasi-legal functions, and travel with him in Jamaica and overseas, while keeping him abreast of day-to-day developments, a new role that every commissioner has retained since.

Ellington also acted as commander of the University of the West Indies police, after stints at Highgate, St Mary and Stony Hill, St Andrew. He served as head of the Motorised Patrol and spent a week learning best practices with the Fort Lauderdale police, Florida.

For his first divisional command he was put in charge of St Andrew Central, recalling that his big focus was on preventing crime, rather than solving crime. And he felt justified when he saw the crime rate plummeting at the end of his two years, 1995-96.

It was next to the Inspections Branch, followed by the Remand Centre in 1998 and West Kingston in 1999. Ellington practised community ideas such as leading his team periodically on foot from the bottom of West Street, talking with the people, hearing complaints about policemen which would be acted upon and turning off stolen light and water. Sometimes they would seize a gun or two along the walk. He also encouraged police divisions to support each other by mutual assistance in the fight against crime.

He next took charge of the Services Branch, then went to head up St James in 2001 where his approach was similar to St Andrew Central, the emphasis on crime prevention with big dividends in falling murder and general crime numbers.

His stop at Traffic Headquarters in 2003 was memorable for the noticeable reduction in road fatalities that came with his focus on moving violations, as against the previous concentration on small traffic offences such as faulty headlights and the like.

He also arrested people who did not pay their traffic tickets through development of a computer data base, replacing the paper-based system. Traffic cops could now check a motorist’s history by calling in their driver’s licence number. In the first year, 10,000 arrest warrants were issued.

In 2003, he was put in charge of Area Four covering Kingston and St Andrew. Four years later he was called back to headquarters by Commissioner Lucius Thomas to head up the crucial Operations Branch, from where the JCF’s major crime prevention programme was co-ordinated.

It was from there that Ellington was given his biggest challenge up to that point when he was put in charge of security for the ICC Cricket World Cup. Ellington became the first cop to jump from assistant commissioner to commissioner (acting) in 2009.

The implosion in Tivoli Gardens in Kingston’s westend, when security forces went after the former strongman Christopher “Dudus” Coke, for extradition to the United States in May 2010, came barely a month after his confirmation as Jamaica’s 27th commissioner.

Ellington had always wanted to become a policeman. Of all the professionals he had watched and admired, he had his boyhood eyes on the policemen from as far back as he could remember.

In 1979, at age 17 and without informing his parents, he and two school mates went to enlist in the police force.

“I really had a fascination for the uniform, the gun, the car. Of all the professionals in the community the cops looked the sharpest. They were well built and the people believed in them. I wanted to be like them,” he said.

Ellington, because of his age, was referred to the Force Cadet scheme. He was part of a batch of 60 recruits but they wanted at least 150 to start the training so he had to wait awhile. Finding the waiting period frustratingly long, he wrote his resignation and applied to the College of Arts, Science, and Technology (CAST), now the University of Technology, Jamaica (UTech).

The barracks inspector was not taking ‘no’ for an answer. In dramatic fashion he informed Ellington that there were only two ways that a policeman could leave: either through dismissal or in a hearse! That was the end of the CAST story, up to that time.

Later he would pursue a Bachelor of Science Degree in Human Resource Management at UTech and follow that up with a Master’s in National Security and Strategic Studies from the University of the West Indies (UWI).

Reneto Adams

Senior Superintendent Reneto Adams also knew, from as far back as memory could take him, that he wanted to be a policeman, given his dare-devil spirit, the courage to swim in dangerous waters, the early attraction to police work, the willingness to stand up to superiors and then the steely determination to face down the most vicious gunman without flinching.

And like Ellington, Adams has known no other life but that of a cop. For 41 years he fought the monster of crime, bringing to the task titillating controversy, unbridled bravado and unmatchable flair.

For sure, SSP Adams is a complex character. Men often can’t decide whether he is the anti-hero or the superhero. Human rights activists insinuated that he was not above extra-judicial killings, despite producing no evidence to substantiate such claims.

They point to celebrated cases like the so-called Braeton Seven in which seven young men were killed by members of his Crime Management Unit (CMU) in an ill-fated house in Portmore; the shoot-out in Tivoli Gardens in which 27 residents and members of the security forces lost their lives; the Crawle incident that claimed the lives of four people in the sleepy Clarendon village, and the slaying of Andrew Phang of Grants Pen, among others.

Inquiries into Braeton, Tivoli and Crawle exonerated the CMU and Adams.

Adams’ harshest critics described him as a loose cannon, because he mouths whatever comes to mind, never stopping long enough to worry that he could be ruffling feathers from constable to commissioner, from politician to priest.

But everywhere that Reneto Adams walked in the land, ordinary folks flocked to touch the hem of his garment, which often resembled something out of a futuristic action flick.

The people admired him for his fearlessness and his willingness to face down the terrors of the night, putting his life on the line in the belief that “it is the gunman and not the law-abiding citizen who must live in fear”.

In 1967, aged 19, out of school and looking to the future, Reneto Adams decided it was time to fulfil his dream of becoming a policeman. He applied to the JCF and was accepted, recalling that his trainers included Wilbert Bowes and commandant was Desmond Campbell. Both Bowes and Campbell would go on to become commissioners of police.

“The course prepared the recruits to be rounded policemen — creative, observant, self-confident, to employ common sense and to utilise tactical skills. It taught us camaraderie, esprit de corps and alertness. I would recommend that they go back to that type of training today,” he told an interviewer.

But he recalls that the discipline was tight. Any breach meant instant dismissal. There were no processes and trials, as they have today.

At the end of the course, Adams was assigned to the Spanish Town Police Station. The Commanding Officer for St Catherine Assistant Commissioner Roy Smith, after observing Adams for a time, told him that if he applied himself, worked hard and remained disciplined, he could one day become commanding officer for the parish.

He applied himself, remembering that crime was relatively simple then: picking pockets, vending spirits without a licence, drunken driving, using indecent language, improper conduct in public, and the occasional assault and wounding. “In those days, I don’t remember seeing more than one illegal gun. There were five murders for the year in all of St Catherine and they were domestic in origin.”

Then in the 1970s, the relative peace and quiet of St Catherine was shattered by political violence. Adams says that supporters from both the Jamaica Labour Party (JLP) and the People’s National Party (PNP), fleeing persecution in garrisonised West Kingston, took up abode in Spanish Town and its environs.

There were many decent, law-abiding people among those who fled West Kingston, but there were hardened criminals among them too.

His first transfer was to Luidas Vale station where there was no electricity, no running water and the station was lit by a Home-Sweet-Home lamp at night. It was next to Bog Walk to do traffic duties.

After refusing his superior’s orders to drop traffic charges against the driver of a PNP Government minister, he was transferred to traffic headquarters at Elletson Road in Kingston.

Promotion was scarce at the time, with most people having to wait at least five years to get one. But Adams managed to get three between 1974 and 1978, taking him from constable, to acting corporal, corporal and sergeant. During that time, he did a course in traffic engineering.

Adams was next dispatched to St Ann’s Bay, after he seized some illegal minibuses belonging to some political types and accused a senior cop of colluding with JLP politicians to punish him.

Adams hired an attorney to defend him, packed his bags and went off to St Ann’s Bay, the St Ann capital. Police work was in his blood and he quickly settled in, leaving the attorney to handle the case which dragged on for nine months. He got to like St Ann’s Bay and the people there warmed to him. When the inquiry finally ended, he was acquitted of all charges and it was recommended that he be reinstated to traffic headquarters.

But now he had been enjoying general policing and no longer wanted to return to traffic. He told them ‘thanks but no thanks’ and opted to remain in St Ann’s Bay. However, because of domestic reasons, he soon had to request a transfer back to Kingston. He was sent to Constant Spring and put in command of the station which also covered sub-stations at Red Hills, Stony Hill, Gordon Town and Maverley.

While there he did several courses at the State-run Management Institute for National Development (MIND), on things like intelligence management, managing change, communication and human dignity. He also did several courses at the Police Staff College in strategic management.

In 1989, Adams was one of 20 men and three women selected from the JCF to join United Nations peace-keeping efforts in Namibia on the eve of its independence from South Africa.

In Africa, Adams was in the group that was dispatched to the toughest region where fighting between rebels and South African troops was still going on. They had to learn how to manoeuvre around land mines.

The Jamaican contingent enjoyed the respect of the UN and the other 25 police forces and 40 different armies there and were voted the best contingent. All 20 members received the UN Peace Medal and certificates of excellence for their performance. Importantly, while he was in Africa, Adams was informed that he had been promoted to inspector.

Back home in 1990, Adams was put in charge of the busy Half-Way-Tree division. Crime had become rampant and unsightly vending shacks had sprung up everywhere. Adams was assigned to clean up the mess. With a resolve of steel, he took on the job, saying he received threats from politicians, criminals and higglers but when he was through, Half-Way-Tree and New Kingston were back to the way they should be.

After an ill-equipped, 30-year-old “black Mariah” — the police truck transporting prisoners to the Gun Court — was making its way from the Half-Way-Tree lock-up, 11 of the detainees escaped. Adams, as divisional inspector, was held responsible and slapped with nine charges.

He was tried by the Police Service Commission and Justice Ira Rowe. But again, he was acquitted of all charges and department blame after satisfying the inquiry that he had taken all preventative measures possible within the limits of his resources and that had his superiors listened to him, none of that would have happened.

Two months after the escape incident, Adams was promoted to assistant superintendent and assigned to the Special Anti-Crime Task Force, a crack team of sleuths licensed to bring in the gunmen and operating out of Ruthven Road under Senior Supt Tony Hewitt.

During Adams’ two-year stint there, 198 guns were recovered; many people were arrested and sent to prison. While all this was happening, Spanish Town, the St Catherine capital, was being overrun by extortionists, gun-slingers and drug-peddlers. Killing and maiming of innocent people, including businessmen and policemen, were rife.

Adams was assigned to clean up Spanish Town. He arrived in the old capital with the title Operations Officer and a plan. “Our strategy was a mixed one. We gave the gunmen two choices — the gun or the Bible,” explained Adams. “We interpreted the Bible to mean community policing, in which if everybody co-operated, we could all live good together and everybody would be fine. The gun meant confrontation. I made it very clear to them: if you choose the gun, I cannot guarantee your safety.”

In the months to come, the murder rate and crime in general in the parish dropped considerably. Scores of gunmen, including every member of the notorious ‘Bag & Pan’ gang, were either eliminated or fled, some to England, he said. And Spanish Town breathed again. “Business grew, properties appreciated. People could walk freely again.” Adams was promoted to commanding officer for Spanish Town. His reputation as a tough cop who did the job was spreading.

Adams was next transferred to east Kingston where he faced the guns, drugs, murders, political and social upheaval. He and his men targeted the east Kingston dons and went after them. “Many were cut down, or sent to prison, or ran away. Everywhere I go, I am determined that if fear exists, it must be in the heart of gunmen and not law-abiding citizens,” Adams later declared.

As murder spiralled and the country screamed at the Government to take decisive action, the Crime Management Unit (CMU) was established with Adams at the helm in September 2000.

In the first two years of the CMU, Adams reported, murders dropped by 17 per cent and all major crimes were trending down. There were 850 arrests; 6,000 detentions; thousands of rounds of ammunition seized; 150 stolen motor vehicles recovered. Carjacking mainly targeting women decreased dramatically. Most importantly, the gunmen were on the retreat.

Adams’ team went to every parish and peace and tranquility returned to nearly all those areas. He once received a standing ovation as he sentered the Church of the Open Bible on Washington Boulevard where a fallen cop was being eulogised. On radio talk shows his name became a staple. One Stone Poll showed the CMU enjoyed 68 per cent support among the people at one stage.

Part of his strategy was to target the criminal day and night. “Wherever he/she goes, he/she must see the police targeting, searching, investigating, watching at all times. The last thing he must see before going to bed and the first thing when he wakes up must be the police. They must get no time to plan anything but their escape from police supervision.”

On the charge of extra-judicial killings, Adams was quoted as saying: “I, personally, have never done any introspection or retrospection and come to the conclusion that I or my men have acted extra-judicially. Most of the criminal gunmen we have taken in alive.”

After the Crawle incident in May 2003, the CMU was disbanded following investigations which involved Britain’s Scotland Yard. In the end, Adams and his men were arrested and charged but later exonerated.

The crime fighter believed that the disbandment of the CMU was a big mistake as it emboldened the criminals.