On a brisk November day in 2024, Louise Gather set out from her home in Derby, England, bound for Bradgate Park in Leicestershire. Her goal was simple: to seek out magpie inkcaps, a rare and distinctive type of mushroom. Bradgate Park, with its rolling hills and ancient oaks, is not just a haven for foragers and nature lovers—it is also a designated site of special scientific interest (SSSI), making the picking of mushrooms strictly off-limits. Little did Gather know that her visit would trigger a chain of events leading to a police misconduct scandal, one that would call into question the very standards of accountability and integrity within the Leicestershire Police force.
The saga began on November 8, 2024, when Bradgate Park Trust reported a woman allegedly seen picking mushrooms within the protected grounds. According to BBC reporting, Gather, 39, insisted she had not picked any mushrooms that day—she was merely searching for the elusive magpie inkcaps. Nevertheless, the wheels of law enforcement began to turn. Former police constable Christopher Vickers, a veteran of the force since 2004, was assigned to investigate the incident.
What followed was a series of missteps and breaches of protocol that would ultimately cost Vickers his career. Instead of speaking directly to Gather, as required by police policy, Vickers chose a different path. On November 25, he visited Gather’s home but spoke only with her husband, informing him that he intended to issue a community resolution—an informal alternative to prosecution meant to resolve minor offenses. The husband signed the paperwork, but crucially, Gather herself never admitted guilt, nor did she sign or even speak with Vickers.
Community resolutions, as outlined by Leicestershire Police and reported by BBC, are only valid when the alleged offender is spoken to directly, accepts responsibility, and signs the relevant documentation. Yet Vickers, perhaps seeking to avoid what he later described as “unnecessary work,” proceeded to file the resolution anyway. In the police system known as Niche, he falsely documented that Gather had admitted the offense and accepted the resolution.
Had this resolution stood, the consequences for Gather could have been severe. As the Leicestershire Police report later acknowledged, “She ultimately could have lost her job had the CR [community resolution] remained on her enhanced DBS checks.” A criminal record, even for a minor infraction, can have far-reaching effects on employment and reputation.
It was only after the story attracted press attention that the full extent of Vickers’s misconduct came to light. Gather herself did not initially file a complaint. As she told the BBC, “I did not personally instigate or pursue a complaint against the officer. The professional standards department asked for my version of events after the story was picked up by the press, when they realised that the officer had recorded a crime on my record without evidence or ever speaking to me. Leicestershire Police had already apologised, and the charge was removed from my record. I had no idea that records had been falsified or that the officer’s actions constituted gross misconduct.”
With the facts now public, Leicestershire Police moved swiftly to rectify the situation. The community resolution was overturned, sparing Gather from a record that could have jeopardized her livelihood. But the matter did not end there. Misconduct proceedings were initiated against Vickers, whose actions were described by the misconduct panel as “dishonest, deliberate, and damaging to police confidence.”
The misconduct hearing, chaired by Assistant Chief Constable James Avery, took place at police headquarters in Enderby on October 29, 2025. Vickers, having already left the force, did not attend. The panel’s findings were unequivocal. Vickers had knowingly violated police policy for his own convenience, acting “for his own convenience” and to avoid what he “perceived to be unnecessary work,” as the committee later concluded in its report. The inaccuracies in his documentation were not mere errors—they were intentional misrepresentations that undermined the standards expected of law enforcement officers.
“Such conduct was not merely a simple error but a conscious decision to misrepresent the facts,” stated Assistant Chief Constable Avery in the official ruling. The panel found that, had Vickers still been a serving officer, he would have been dismissed without hesitation. Instead, he was indefinitely barred from serving in any police capacity.
This case, while centered on a relatively minor alleged infraction, has raised broader questions about the safeguards in place to prevent abuses of authority within the police. Community resolution orders are designed to offer a proportionate response to low-level offenses, but only when the process is followed correctly. When corners are cut, as in this case, the consequences can be significant—not just for the individual involved, but for public trust in law enforcement as a whole.
Gather herself reflected on the ordeal with a mix of relief and frustration. She noted that the resolution order she received included an agreement not to take items from the park in the future and prompted her to research Bradgate Park’s status as an SSSI. Yet, she also told the BBC she felt the actions of Leicestershire Police had been “a bit excessive”—a sentiment that was not formally assessed by the misconduct panel but resonates with many who have followed the story.
Bradgate Park, with its protected status, is emblematic of the delicate balance between conservation and public access. The law is clear: picking mushrooms in sites of special scientific interest is illegal, a measure intended to preserve fragile ecosystems. But as this case demonstrates, the enforcement of such rules must be matched by rigorous adherence to due process and fairness.
Vickers, for his part, admitted during the proceedings that he had intended to call Gather but had forgotten. This explanation did little to mitigate the seriousness of his actions in the eyes of the panel. The committee’s report concluded that Vickers “knew his actions did not align with police policy and were done for his own convenience.”
While the outcome for Gather was ultimately just—the false record expunged, and her employment prospects preserved—the incident serves as a cautionary tale. It underscores the importance of transparency, honesty, and procedural integrity in every aspect of policing, no matter how minor the alleged offense may seem.
As the dust settles over Bradgate Park, the lessons of this case linger. For law enforcement and the public alike, the expectation remains clear: accountability must never be sacrificed for convenience, and trust is built—one honest action at a time.
