The case was
booked into Court Two at the Central Criminal Court for at least eight weeks. This
was the second most important court in the country for criminal trials because
we needed the room for all the documents and exhibits which would be called in
the trial as evidence. I now had a little breathing space in order to try and
settle some of my outstanding work-load. I had other cases running at the same
time, and I was having to deal with the constant interventions from the
particular chief inspector who was determined to carry on with his overbearing
behaviour towards me.
At that
time, the culture at New Scotland Yard was hugely hierarchical, and officers
who were in the course of attaining senior rank were effectively untouchable.
The worst behaved like petty dictators, and they could damage a subordinate
officer's career on a mere whim. This particular officer had made it his
objective to punish me for the journey and the work I had undertaken in America
at my Commander's behest, but with the Commander now promoted and moved to
another department, this man went out of his way to belittle me, to rubbish my
work, and to insult me at every opportunity. He took the lengthy report I had
written on my work and findings in America, and in front of the rest of my
office, threw it across the room to lodge on top of a cabinet, saying it was
'shite' and proved the lack of wisdom in sending me to the States. He would call
me and my colleagues 'paper cowboys', meaning that we focused in minute detail
on documents and records (which was what you had to master in fraud investigation),
as opposed to the 'action culture' so beloved of officers from the old
hard-drinking, hard swearing departments such as the Flying Squad and the
Regional Crime Squads.
Lest it be
felt that I have been overly critical of departments and personalities outside
the police force, let me say here that one of the biggest stumbling blocks to
really effective detection and prevention of major fraud lay within the
policing agencies. The Fraud Squad possessed many officers who didn't want to
be there, who thought just like this particular man, who were incurably and
thoroughly lazy, and who did not have the intellectual capacity or the patience
to master the new dimensions of serious fraud that we were increasingly being
called upon to deal with. If anything contributed to the increased difficulties
in dealing with the new fraud paradigm, it was the existence of men like these,
and it was one of the bigger tragedies for me that no-one in a senior rank or
position could be bothered to realise it.
I have
already said that the real agenda behind the defence case preparation for the
trial had little to do with the solicitor concerned, but had everything to do
with seeking to find a way to get him acquitted of any offence of dishonesty,
so that the chances of civil suit against the law firm would be nullified. This
was the agenda that lay behind the High Court and Appeal Court actions to get
the documents from me, so that they could ascertain exactly the part the
solicitor had played. Then the demands for me to hand over all the evidence
against him were made so they could see exactly how strong my case against him was,
so that they could find ways to undermine it. His own attempts to make a self-serving
statement of facts had blown up in his face because I could prove he had lied. Everything
that could be done to get him out of the trial was attempted, and they had all
failed. They were faced with a huge bill for damages and the concomitant public
opprobrium that would go with the news of the trial and its outcome. I was very
confident that the evidence against him was overwhelming, and I was looking
forward to the trial.
The night
before the case was due to begin, I was in my usual state of excited
preparedness. I had gone over and over in my mind how I intended the case to
proceed, and what order I would recommend to counsel for the witnesses. There
was a knock at my front door. A local uniformed policeman was standing there
with a copy of an urgent telex from the administrator of the Central Criminal
Court. In the days without mobile phones or email, we had to carry important
messages by hand to their recipients.
The message
informed me that the case had been moved from Number Two court to a small court
at the Guildhall Justices' Rooms. I was dumbfounded. It meant that the case was
collapsing and the defendants intended to plead guilty, but why move it from a
very public court with its army of sharp-nosed court reporters, to a room in
the back of beyond behind Cannon Street Station, which even I did not know how
to find?
The next
morning, I turned up to the court with plenty of time to spare. I was met by
the Court Inspector from the Central Criminal Court, a kind and usually genial
man who knew most detectives who gave evidence at the Old Bailey by name.
He said; '...You're
not going to like what I am about to tell you, lad! I have a message from your Chief
Inspector that some kind of deal has been done between the prosecution and the
defence and guilty pleas are going to be entered today. Your boss says you will
not like what's going to happen and I am instructed that if you cut up rough
about it, which he strongly expects you to do, I will have to nick you and keep
you locked up till the court rises. I don't want to have to do that lad, so do
as you're told, duck your nut, no matter what happens, and we'll talk about it
afterwards...'
I thought the
ground was about to swallow me up, my head was whirling, what kind of deal
could they have done, and why had I not been consulted? I should have been the
first one to be asked if the deal was acceptable as I was the de facto
prosecutor, albeit we were led by a barrister. I tried to ring the office. The
Chief Inspector wasn't available, the bastard had decided to make himself
scarce. Then it hit me, he had been the one to order me to hand over all the evidence
to the defence, and now he had been the one to usurp my position and accept the
deal offered by the defence, and without telling me. None of my colleagues knew anything! '...What's
wrong...' they kept asking!
In court the
defendants were sitting at the rear of the court, with their solicitors. They
didn't look in my direction. The prosecution barrister was closeted with two
other briefs and didn't look like she was going to talk to me. I tried to make
eye contact with her. She looked away. I tried to engage her politely. '...I've
no time to talk to you now officer, perhaps later...' This was unheard of
behaviour, never before had I been through such a bizarre process, normally
your own prosecuting barrister wants to talk to the officer in the case at
length and alone to make sure everything is ready and available.
Suddenly, on
the dot of 10.30am the judge bustled in. Prosecution Counsel stood and asked
him if he had had a chance to read all the papers and submissions. '...Yes...'
he said, '...I have seen everything I need to see...' Prosecution counsel then
explained that of the sixteen or so charges on the indictment, starting with
the charge of conspiracy to defraud, followed by the long list of fraudulently
obtaining money by deception charges, she was advising the judge that the
prosecution would not be seeking to proceed with those counts and asked that
the judge allow them to lie on the file. The judge immediately agreed this was
the best course of action.
My head was
swimming, they weren't going to carry on with any of these charges, despite
everything we had been through, the civil cases, the demands for evidence, the
defendant's repeated lies which I had proved to be lies, he was going to be allowed
to walk away from every serious and important count on the indictment. More
importantly, these were all offences of dishonesty, so no conviction for
dishonesty would now appear on his record!
Prosecution
counsel then said that the defendants had agreed to plead guilty to the two
counts under the PFI Act, those of possessing and distributing unauthorised
leaflets. The judge then asked the clerk to read the two remaining counts, to
which the defendants both pleaded guilty.
These two
counts involved a dishonest element and as a result of their distributing the
documents, investors had been mislead and defrauded thereby. The solicitor's
barrister then stood and addressed the judge.
His client
had only agreed to plead guilty to these last two counts in order to save the
time of the Court, he said, all the other matters would have been strongly
contested but the prosecution's actions in not proceeding with them made the
whole issue now irrelevant. He then asked the judge to find that even in these
last two cases, that there had been no element of dishonesty involved.
I could not
believe my eyes or ears, he was asking the judge to connive in the acceptance
of what is called an 'equivocal' plea. When a defendant pleads guilty to a
charge he does so in the full admission of all the facts. If he says, '...well I
did the act but it wasn't dishonest...', then that is an equivocal plea and has
to be dealt with as a 'not guilty' plea, and a full trial ordered. Only a jury
can decide whether a defendant acted honestly or dishonestly. It is not part of
a Judges' function to so decide. However, this judge seemed oblivious to the
law, and he agreed that the record would note that no dishonesty was imputed.
Having
accepted these corrupt pleas, the prosecution counsel stood and asked if the
judge wished to be addressed on the defendant's antecedents. It is normal
practice when sentencing, for a judge to be informed of a defendant's
background and any criminal convictions he might have. In this case, the judge
demurred and said he knew everything he needed to know about the accused, and
did not need to be advised as to their antecedents, so the solicitor's previous
criminal history was not read to the court.
The
defendants were ordered to stand and the judge immediately gave them both
suspended prison sentences and ordered a small contribution for costs for their
legal aid! With that, he disappeared from the bench and left the Court. The
whole procedure had taken about ten minutes in all. no press were present or
available, so the matter was never reported.
I thought I
was going to be sick. After everything we had been through, this thoroughly
dishonest man had been allowed to walk away from the consequences of his
actions, because any other outcome would have meant a significant cost and
public disgrace for the law firm of which he was a partner. Any civil action
brought against him could now only be brought against him alone, and because
there were no findings of dishonesty, the cases would be much more difficult to
sustain. What is more, his partnership was safe, and their indemnity insurance
policy would not now be troubled. The legal establishment had conspired to
protect a City law firm at the expense of Justice, they had won and a man with
an habitual criminal record was being allowed to walk away free and clear.
The only
person who spoke to me was the metals' broker who came up to me and said; '...I
haven't a clue what went on there, I thought I was certain to go away...' I
managed to force something close to a smile. '...It was nothing you did...' I
said, '...just don't come back here again, you've had a great result...'
Our
barrister swept past me without speaking. There was no point in confronting
her, she was part and parcel of the same corrupt, rotten, system that had just
ensured that a law firm had survived, but in circumstances they did not
deserve.
I went and
sat in a pub and began to get very, very drunk. I had learned a series of very
painful lessons. I had learned that the City of London was a structure comprised
of a whole series of interlinking roles and movers, who were all bound up in
the same endgame. They all wanted to make money, and seemingly at any cost. I
thought about the spineless regulators in the DTI and how people like this
solicitor and his bent friends were so contemptuous of them that they thought
they could operate scams like the Vegas Trust with impunity. I thought about
the eminent silk who had advised them, his contempt for the DTI's regulatory
ability and his arrogance meant that he gave very poor advice to his clients.
He was amazed when I turned up to interview him and I cautioned him against
self incrimination. He took my advice and answered no questions. A little later
he would be elevated to an extremely important judicial role indeed. I thought
about the victims of the fraud, many of whom preferred to believe the word of
the solicitor when he told them their money was safe, rather than believe me
even when I showed them the evidence that their money had been frittered away. I
thought about how detectives within my own calling were letting the people of
London down by their arrogance, their ignorance and their obsession with
hierarchy and rank. I thought how wrongdoers were facilitated by London
lawyers, accountants, and the offshore facilities which can be arranged in a
few minutes with one telephone call, but which can take months if not years to
look behind the corporate veil. I realised then that we were just fooling
ourselves that we could make a difference, and that the City and the financial
sector were literally a 'protected species' and there was nothing I or mine
could do about it, and more importantly, if we tried too hard, we would be the
ones to be punished.
Later that
afternoon, the Court Inspector found me. '...Don't take it too hard lad, I've
seen many such cases in my time when the guilty are allowed to walk away
because the powerful are threatened. Just do your job to the best of your ability
and leave the outcomes to the people who run this bloody country, come on, time
to go home, you've had enough...'
Ironically,
the guilty solicitor was allowed to carry on practicing, albeit as a sole
trader. The Law Society did not apparently move against him in 1985, and
despite everything he was allowed to keep his practicing certificate. Imagine
my surprise therefore when researching this blog, I came across the following
entry in the Law Society's records.
"...The SDT ordered the respondent, (the solicitor in my
case) who had practised in a partnership, to be struck off the roll on 9 April
2002 for unbefitting conduct, in that he had acted in transactions relating to
banking instrument and investment schemes in which he had failed to comply with
assurances given to the Office for the Supervision of Solicitors (following a
warning letter sent to him) that he would not be involved in any further way
with such transactions; and in the course of those transactions he either had
failed to be alert or had deliberately closed his eyes to their suspicious
features and, in so doing, had acted in a manner likely to compromise or impair
his independence or integrity, the good repute of the profession, and/or his proper
standard of work, contrary to practice rule 1. The respondent was ordered to
pay costs (to be assessed)..."
I have no knowledge of this case, so I can not comment, I merely
insert it here for the record.
Since that day I have never believed one word that the City has to
say about its probity, its honesty or its sound advice. In my view it is a sink,
a cess pit, the words Mark Tucker, the
Deputy Governor of the Bank of England used recently when he referred to
Barclays Bank. That is why I say that the City is one huge criminogenic enterprise,
designed to exploit the gullibility of the public, and to protect the hegemony
of those who are permitted to practice within its gates. We should treat it as
an organised crime family and deal with it accordingly.