Extradited (6 page)

T
he day of 30 October arrived and I returned to Westminster Magistrates’ Court for the verdict. Sitting in the defendants’ dock, I listened to District Judge Purdy’s ruling. Adrenalin ran through my veins as he walked into the courtroom. I could feel every pulse and hear every swallow. After rising and confirming my name, he began to speak:

I didn’t feel my heart drop – I thought my heart had stopped altogether. For the few moments after I heard the words, I thought I was dead. What hurt the most was that I had convinced myself that I was going to win. The truth was on my side and our arguments were legitimate, but it was made clear that the court had no power to prevent my extradition. District Judge Purdy asked me to rise and confirm that I had understood the ruling. I took
a while to mumble the word ‘yes’, before slowly walking out of the courtroom. My legs were trembling so much that I almost fell over. I met with my family, friends and girlfriend in the passageway of the courts. In disbelief and devastation, we hugged and cried together. It was the same as when we’d cried together on the day I’d first made bail – only this time we knew that our fight for an investigation would be almost impossible.

Private Eye
magazine published an article after seeing the evidence against me. They described it as ‘flawed, contradictory and in places ludicrous’. Yet the judge claimed there was absolutely no abuse of process on behalf of the Greek authorities “on the instant facts”.

We did everything that we possibly could for the British authorities to investigate this evidence, but it didn’t work. My family lobbied through every avenue for the Greek authorities to apply for Mutual Legal Assistance. Our local MP Joan Ryan was eventually a great help to us, and had written a letter, which we asked the deputy ambassador at a meeting in the Greek embassy in London to pass on to the Greek authorities. Sabine Zanker from Fair Trials International came to support us too, and the deputy ambassador assured us that he would do everything in his power to help – but of course nothing came of it. My parents even flew to Zante to speak with the investigating magistrate and show her all the evidence that we’d accumulated. We were nothing but open and honest. I couldn’t understand how, in the twenty-first century, in
Europe
, this could have been allowed to happen. I felt absolutely powerless.

After losing our argument in Westminster Magistrates’ Court, we appealed against the ruling and took it to the High Court.

Our only ground for appeal was that there was clearly an abuse of process by the Greek authorities. After more painful adjournments and delays, in May 2009 we discovered that I’d lost again. The court ruled that there was no abuse of process, regardless of the flawed, contradictory evidence.

We battled against my extradition to Greece for over a year, trying our hardest to get the British authorities to look into the case. Innocent with no criminal record, and having never been questioned in the investigation, I was to be extradited to Greece at the age of twenty. Everything that we had feared was about to become reality.

I
remember the day when I was told that I was to be extradited.

We didn’t have to go to court to find out, it was my lawyer who told us that it would be happening. I’d just returned home from Riya’s house and I peered into the living room to say hello. Everyone seemed quiet and drained. I could tell that something was wrong.

‘What happened?’ I asked. Nobody spoke; my mum just wiped away her tears. She attempted to tell me, but the words didn’t come out. I walked into the kitchen where my dad was sitting. ‘What happened?’

He took a deep breath. ‘Andrew, the appeal was rejected. The extradition is going ahead.’

It took a while to comprehend the words. I bit my lip, trying desperately to stop my eyes from streaming. ‘How long?’ I managed to utter.

‘Within ten days.’

I felt like my world was ending, and my instant reaction was to leave the house. I hunted for my car keys in a state of erratic dread. I needed to drive somewhere, just to escape. Everything around me was moving too quickly and I felt faint. My mum became hysterical – she didn’t want me to drive in such a volatile
state. My car keys were in my pocket the whole time. Teresa grabbed me before I could run out of the door. ‘Slow down! Your parents are already in a bad way, think about how worried they’ll be if you go off driving like a lunatic. Just give me the keys. Why don’t you call Riya or one of your friends to pick you up?’

‘OK,’ I said. I don’t even know if I made eye contact with her before running out of the house. I walked to the petrol station in the rain and called my friend Alex on the way. ‘It’s happening. They’re extraditing me within ten days,’ I told him. It was only when I heard myself say the words that I began to well up.

‘Are you serious?’ he asked.

‘Why are we so shocked? Why didn’t I think this would actually happen? They’re gonna put me in prison.’ I could barely speak.

‘Andrew, listen, mate.’ He paused for a while, unsure of what he could say to make it any better. He exhaled. ‘What happens happens. You’re ready for this, you may not know it, but you are. You’ve been preparing for this shit for over a year.’

‘
Prepared!?
When I get there I might be handed to the officers who beat Chris and Charlie and pinned this shit on me! Think about it! They’re gonna fucking kill me!’ I cried.

‘Andrew! Listen to me, they aren’t gonna kill you man. Don’t be stupid. Don’t think like that. Just calm the fuck down. You don’t realise how strong you are. You have to accept that you’ll be in a cell for a while before making bail. We’ll all come round a bit later; don’t do anything stupid. Go and see Riya!’

Over the next few days, my family managed to persuade me that everything would be OK. I’ll always remember the words of my uncle Andy, Michael’s dad, the night before I was extradited. He called me into the garden and said:

He gave me a wooden cross on a thread that had belonged to Michael, which was to stay with me in Greece.

However many times my family and friends told me to be strong, it was his words that gave me strength throughout my journey. You can’t prepare for the unknown, or know how you will deal with what
could
happen, all you can do is focus on today’s worries, and have faith that you will have the strength to endure anything that may happen tomorrow. There will always be times of weakness – but it is in the darkest moments when you realise how strong you really are.

T
he day of 23 July 2009 began very differently from the way it ended. It wasn’t a typical summer’s day – the sky was awash with translucent grey clouds and it sometimes looked as though it would rain at any moment. I wasn’t nervous; I didn’t have the usual sickening feeling in my stomach and my mind wasn’t overwhelmed with negative thoughts. I lied to myself and decided that I didn’t give a fuck any more.
Whatever happens happens
, I thought. A blast of nerves ran through my body when I saw Sim’s cab outside. He’d come to take us to Belgravia Police Station where I’d be transferred to Heathrow Airport under arrest. I was told that all I could take was a medium-sized bag, so I had packed a blue Nike sports bag to join me throughout my journey. I made sure to pack a notebook and pen so that I could keep a journal, and I took the first book that I picked from the bookshelf in our study,
The Da Vinci Code
by Dan Brown.

When I walked onto the driveway, I didn’t look back. Before I got into the cab, I walked up the road and sat in Riya’s car with her for a while. I held her in my arms and couldn’t find the right moment to let go. At what point do you say goodbye? We’d been through so much, and we didn’t know how long it would be before we could be together again. It was a hug that I wished
would never end, and I only allowed myself to shed a tear without her seeing. I had to stay strong for her, as she’d been for me.

‘I have something for you,’ she stuttered. She wiped a tear from her cheek and handed me a brown envelope. ‘I want you to open it when you get to Greece.’

‘Thank you, I will. You know, I’ll probably only be there for two weeks and I’ll make bail back to the UK!’ I told her and half smiled.

‘Andrew, it’s time to go,’ I heard my dad calling.

I could see her eyes watering up before they trickled with tears. She couldn’t find the words to respond – we both knew, in spite of my joking, that I would probably be away for a long time. Up until that point in my life, kissing her goodbye was one of the most difficult things that I’d ever had to do.

When we drove off, I watched Riya driving behind us through the rear window. The emotion only really hit me when we finally went our separate ways – we turned right and she continued straight. Just like that, she was gone. I had no clue when I would see her face again. The image of her driving behind us stayed with me for a very long time.

The cab journey to Belgravia Police Station was spent in silence. I couldn’t even look at anyone directly in the eyes and I doubt my family could either. When we arrived, I remember walking up and down in the corridor, waiting to be taken to the airport and dumped on a plane. An officer from Scotland Yard’s extradition unit walked in. I recognised him; it was Jamie, who’d arrested me over a year earlier.

‘Andrew, I’m afraid it’s time to go. I can’t tell you what’s going to happen in Greece, but I won’t be handcuffing you,’ he said. I nodded, finding it almost impossible to let any words pass my lips. I hugged my family and our eyes welled up.

‘Andrew, we’re on our way to the airport now. We’ll find you in Greece,’ my dad stammered. ‘Just remember, you’re innocent.
Always be on your best behaviour. Being rude won’t get you anywhere – just play the game. They can take away your rights and treat you badly, but they can’t take away what’s in here,’ he cried while pointing at my head.

My mum grabbed me by the cheek. ‘Listen to me, whatever they do to you, never sign anything. If they beat you, don’t sign anything! You take the beatings, OK? If they threaten you or threaten to hurt your parents, don’t sign anything! Do you understand me? We can look after ourselves.’

‘I love you, everything’s going to be fine. Don’t be scared,’ Sophie said. Almost in an instant, they were gone. I didn’t look back when the police car doors closed. I couldn’t look through the window and watch my family fade into the distance. After everything we had fought for together, we’d parted ways.
I don’t give a fuck,
I remember kidding myself.

When I knew that my family were out of sight, I looked back and wiped away the silent tears.

‘Andrew, when we get to the airport, we aren’t going to handcuff you. Usually, we would – in some cases maybe even put you in an airport cell, but we’re gonna take you for a coffee,’ one of them said to me.

‘Thanks, I really appreciate that,’ I replied. ‘So what’s gonna happen after we go for a coffee?’ I asked.

‘Well, we’re meeting Greek police officers there and we will hand you over to them,’ one of them answered.

‘Andrew, I really feel sorry for you, mate. I can’t believe they’re extraditing you,’ Jamie said. I appreciated the comment and thanked him. I couldn’t believe that the words were coming out of his mouth. I knew they were just doing their job and that they could see that I was a threat to no one.

Being extradited was a surprisingly normal process. In hindsight, it was just like catching a flight, only with police officers
instead of a partner or friends … and going to jail after landing instead of a plush resort.

Jamie approached three plain-clothed Greek officers in the terminal. I shook all of their hands, which probably confused them a bit. I don’t know if they expected to see me being escorted in handcuffs with a rude demeanour, but they seemed slightly puzzled.

We were early so the Scotland Yard officers took me for a coffee, as promised. The Greek officers sat on a table close by; they must have been thinking,
what the hell is going on?

‘Seriously, Andrew, this is ridiculous, mate. There’s no way this would stand in a British court,’ Jamie said to me sympathetically.

‘What can I say? Our government signed up to something ridiculous that allowed this to happen,’ I replied.

He ignored the comment and I noticed him look over to the Greek officers a few tables away from us.

‘What do you think?’

‘About them?’ he asked. ‘I think they’re all right, they seem fine.’

‘I’m crapping myself, I’ve never been extradited before,’ I said sarcastically. Both of the officers chuckled, not having a clue how to respond.

We conversed over a coffee and it came to the point where I almost forgot that they were the officers handing me over to the Greek authorities. Jamie told me about his career and how he’d become a police officer, then worked his way up to Scotland Yard’s extradition unit. ‘It’s time to board, Andrew,’ he said. I felt faint as soon as I heard the words. The more I pretended it wasn’t happening, the easier it was to accept.

I have a vivid image of walking towards the gate. It was a tunnel, and it felt as though I was on death row walking the mile. I was drained, and I had an emotion-fuelled headache because I had no
idea what was going to happen once I landed. I stood next to the aeroplane door, wishing that I didn’t have to walk through it.

‘Good luck Andrew.’

‘Jamie – thanks,’ I said.

I shook both of their hands. The other officer nodded as though he was saying,
you can do this
. As soon as I stepped onto the plane, I felt the vibrations of the engine running through my body. I smiled at the air hostess, as I would on a normal flight, then was escorted to the very back of the plane and told to sit in the left-hand window seat. Two of the Greek officers sat next to me and one sat in front. I studied them for a few moments; the officer next to me had quite a kind face – I didn’t find him threatening. The officer next to him had a cold, evil look in his eyes and the officer in front of me was older, maybe fifty-five years old and seemed to be smiling a lot of the time.

‘So what do you think of London, great city, eh?’ I said.

‘Yes, we went to Buckingham Palace and Big Ben, we saw it all!’ the officer next to me responded in perfect English. ‘I was looking at your Facebook group, you have thousands of supporters!’ he said.

‘I saw your sister speaking on YouTube,’ the evil-eyed officer inputted.

‘Yes, I saw that too,’ the officer next to me said. ‘You know, it won’t be eighteen months in jail. I think maximum three months and you will come back home,’ he said casually.

Three months!
I thought. I couldn’t bear thinking about what could happen in three whole months.

‘We’ll see,’ I responded while taking a big gulp from the bottle of water that I’d bought before boarding. There was an awkward pause for a few moments.

‘You know, not all Greek police are like them,’ the officer next to me said.

I was quite shocked by the comment.

‘Of course not. They ruin it for all of you, now you all have a bad reputation!’ I said. The evil-eyed man and the officer next to me both smiled; the one in front had already fallen asleep before the plane had even taken off.

‘You’re right,’ the officer next to me said. ‘It’s like the policeman who shot the fifteen-year-old boy in the riots in Athens a few months ago as well. They are all arseholes.’

I’d forgotten about the story that was all over the news. A Greek police officer had shot a fifteen-year-old boy at pointblank range and the Greek public had been protesting.

The plane began to head slowly towards the runway. The engine roared and we began to shake. Before I knew it, the plane began to accelerate. My head pounded with tension, I shut my eyes and massaged my temples to try to release the pain. The friction between the plane’s wheels and hard runway stopped – I knew that the next time the wheels touched the ground I’d be in Greece.

I can visualise my extradition so vividly even though it feels like an eternity ago. I had no idea where I was going to be taken, how I was going to be treated, how I would feel or how long it would take for me to finally clear my name and go back home to my family. Despite the many ‘unknowns’, there was one thing I could be sure of: it was going to take a great amount of inner strength to endure whatever was to come.

I’d been battling for justice like I’d never battled before, and I felt like I’d already been through so much. In truth, it was just the beginning.