Fit Up (25 page)

Challenger finally sat down and shut up. It was good to be relieved from his style of presentation and his insinuations that held no water and I hoped that Cranston would be able to see that. We now looked to Leslie to go back out to bat for us.

‘I must have been sitting hearing a different trial completely and different evidence, but there it is. My Lord, can I just remind you of the matters? My learned friend has closed his case, we are now on submissions and he makes some assertions to you. I scratch my head and wonder, where is the evidence? For instance, where is the evidence that you have heard that the claimant spent ten hours trawling his computer? No evidence has been called. I remind you of the fact that counsel’s questions are not evidence. Where is the evidence in relation to the timings on the computer’s clock? There is no evidence. This case must be decided on the evidence that is relied on in the agreed bundle.’ Leslie paused, watching Cranston as he made his notes before he proceeded. He reminded him that Mr Justice Wyn Williams clearly identified what the issues were of this case and that forensics were not required, that Jeremy’s credibility was not a central issue to the case but Hopkins’s was. Leslie managed to get a dig into Challenger regarding him calling Jeremy a liar. ‘We have been here for the past hour and a quarter listening to Mr Challenger and for the last half an hour of which talking about lies the claimant has told.’ To Cranston, Leslie said, ‘When you come to determine the narrow issues of the case, I invite you to ask yourself: How does it assist me if it is said that the claimant lied, because it does not assist you.’ He carried on for about twenty minutes re-asserting Jeremy’s case, referring to his submitted skeleton argument and indicating case law papers to read to assist Cranston in drawing his conclusions. After the disturbing comments from Challenger, we were uplifted by Leslie’s performance in painstakingly righting the wrongs that had been said. ‘Can I finish by saying this?’ he said. ‘These were unpleasant allegations. Child pornography is an emotive issue. Police officers are like anybody else, they can be affected by emotions. Perhaps, and I do not know, I do not need to prove it and I am just floating this, Mr Hopkins thought: “This is my man, I think he is guilty of this because of Landslide. Let me throw some other
charges in, I do not have the evidence but perhaps he will just cough. Perhaps he will plead to the Magistrates’ Court early…” That is not the basis of charging anybody and it is wrong. It is also not a basis for telling somebody about the charges because you do not like the particular nature of the offence. There is no such thing as noble corruption. All corruption is corruption. The police are not beyond the law. They should not charge when they do not have evidence. They should not withhold evidence and they should not suppress evidence.’

Leslie finally sat down and I resisted the urge to give him a standing ovation for an inspirational performance. His submissions had taken a fraction of the time that Challenger’s had and Cranston thanked them both, thus ending the trial. Andre tapped Leslie’s shoulder and whispered something to him, to which he reacted swiftly by asking Cranston how long it would be before we would get judgment. Cranston acknowledged that Jeremy was anxious to know and that it would most likely be the next day – Friday 5 December.

After four long, hard, tiring, stressful days, it was over. Cranston retired, which allowed the court usher to tidy up and the rest of us to pack up for departure. Jeremy had asked Andre many times in the past few years if he thought we had a good chance of winning and the response was always, ‘We have a good case but you can never tell.’ Jeremy asked him again and, for the very first time, both Andre and Leslie felt confident enough to let down their guard and admitted that, overall, the trial had gone well. We had all done as much as we could and that, in their opinion, if there was any justice, we had won. Hopkins had admitted that there was never any evidence against Jeremy and had brought charges to protect his own position, so it should be a relatively easy decision for Cranston to make. We felt very positive as we all gathered around Leslie for one final revision of the proceedings before we went our separate ways.

As we headed off towards the underground, Andre called out that he would contact Jeremy the next day once he had received Cranston’s judgment.

Feeling both relieved but uplifted that the trial was at an end and buoyed by the positive analysis from Andre and Leslie, we both slept soundly that night. We had come so far and could not believe that we only had another day to go before we could get litigation out of our lives and make a fresh start.

W
ith Christmas only just under three weeks away, the next day we decided to catch up on some gift shopping and have a leisurely lunch. Returning home, we put up the tree and decorated the house which, for the first time in six years, we did with happy hearts.

When we had not heard anything from Andre by 4 p.m., however, we were starting to get a little anxious and impatient for his call. Jeremy decided to ring him first. There had been no news and Andre had already been ringing the court to find out if we would be definitely hearing that day.

Darkness had fallen and I looked at the clock approaching 5 p.m., the working day was closing and in my heart I knew we would not hear anything. Perhaps Cranston had been a little hasty in his promise to be able to give us the result. After all, he would have a lot to dictate and get typed up in just a day. Andre said that he would contact the court again first thing the following Monday and although he spoke with encouragement and was not unduly worried, we were disappointed with the weekend looming. It would be a long two days, but we would just have to keep busy like we had always done.

However, there was no result to be had on Monday, the next day or the one after that. Annoyance started to take over from impatience, but
Andre continued to be optimistic and said that these things can take time and that possibly Cranston had other commitments that hampered him from finishing his judgment.

We were heading into the second weekend after the trial had ended and still there was no news. By this time, I had put it to the back of my mind and I told Jeremy to stop pestering Andre daily. The 24-hour judgment promised by Cranston was not to be. It was easier for me because I could lose myself in my work, but for Jeremy, working alone at home with little distraction, each passing day was becoming more and more tortuous.

On 18 December, two weeks since the end of the trial, I was sitting at my desk dealing with some building issues when Jeremy appeared at my office door. His arrival took me by surprise as he had not been announced by the receptionist. I smiled and said, ‘What a surprise, what brings you here?’ I studied his face and before he could say anything I felt my heart pound, and not in a good way. He stepped forward, took my hand and said, ‘We have lost the case on all counts and costs awarded to the police.’ My blood ran cold, my mouth went dry and I tried not to let my legs buckle. Jeremy’s eyes mirrored the pain that I felt. How could we have lost? All the court hearings that had been won prior to this, all that evidence – the SID document, Fouhey’s testimony, Hopkins’s admission – how could all this have been dismissed? It was after 3 p.m. and knowing that I would be unable to continue to work or drive myself after the devastating impact of this news, I left with Jeremy to go home.

The shock had rendered me unable to speak and the only thing I heard Jeremy say was that Andre had asked him to call as soon as he could. I took off my coat, although the house was cold as the heating had not come on, which did not help as I was shaking so much. Sasha and Nancy greeted us excitedly but I could not return their cheer. Sensing something was very wrong they followed me to the bedroom where I crawled under the duvet, fully dressed, pulling it tightly around me. The dogs jumped up to
my side and leaned their warm bodies against mine, waiting patiently for me to emerge. I had always thought that should I ever hear of our losing the case I would be crying forever, and yet I lay in the darkness, my dry eyes wide open, staring out of the window into the darkness, filled with dread at what was to come. Whatever we had lost before would be nothing compared to this. I felt utter despair that we were facing bankruptcy in between the rage of thinking of Challenger and Grundy gloating over their surprising win and Jeremy not clearing his name.

I could hear Jeremy talking on the telephone from his office across the hall but not able to make out what he was saying. I was beginning to feel warmer and my uncontrollable shaking was reduced to a tremor but I could not be bothered to leave the comfort of my bedroom. If only I could stay here at this point in time with the tomorrows held at bay, I thought.

Jeremy came to the doorway and said that Andre would like to speak to me. Although I wanted to remain in my duvet cocoon I managed to drag myself to the phone. ‘Hi, Andre,’ I said as brightly as I could muster. ‘Faith, I am so very sorry, I know how much this case meant to you both,’ he said. His voice was thick with emotion and sadness for me, which made me want to cry. I replied that I was grateful for the support he and Leslie had shown, that the result of the trial was not their fault and that they had done everything that they could and more besides. I was too numb to continue the conversation and said that I would contact him in a few days. Handing back the phone to Jeremy I returned to the bedroom, turned on the TV and stared at the flickering screen. A little while later Jeremy sat down by my side and said that Leslie had briefly examined Cranston’s draft judgment, and it was evident that a large percentage of it was incorrect in facts and law. He would be reading it in much more detail over the following days to see if it was possible that we could mount an appeal.

Were we just grasping at straws? After five years of Hertfordshire Police
in our orbit, should we just accept the outcome and somehow pick up our shattered lives?

Christmas Eve arrived and we had to go to a Christmas concert at the Royal Albert Hall with our friends who were very excited and who tried to inject some spirit into the evening by suggesting we have a glass of champagne to toast the occasion. I forced a smile and tried to make jovial conversation, envying their happiness. However, they quickly realised that they were perhaps being a little insensitive and suggested we take our seats instead. I was relieved as I knew that they felt sorry for us and did not know what to say. As the entertainers sang joyful songs and Christmas carols, I felt none of the cheer and I just wanted to be home. I turned to Jeremy as the choir sang ‘Silent Night’ and could see his eyes brimming with tears. I squeezed his hand and my heart ached for him. I could see no bright future and the years ahead would be overshadowed by being financially punished for daring to call to account the deceit of an officer of the Hertfordshire Constabulary. I remembered Andre’s words at the end of the trial: ‘If there was any justice.’ Quite clearly, there wasn’t any.

W
e only had two options: sink or swim. If we did not try to fight, then we would be paying the defendant’s costs and lose all our personal money that we had already put into the litigation. However, there was the risk that if we were to go on to appeal we would be throwing good money after bad. The only positive factor at this stage by appealing was at least it would defer the courts asking us to pay Hertfordshire Constabulary, a pain too hard to bear both financially and emotionally.

As we edged into January 2009 we looked to Andre and Leslie again to make sense of Cranston’s decision. Jeremy and I had been wondering if bankruptcy would be the best option for him because he did not feel he had the strength to continue to keep fighting the establishment. He doubted that any judge would find in his favour due to the subject matter and the fact that it would embarrass the police and government if we were to have a victory over Operation Ore. Andre, in preparation for failure of the appeal, had asked Jeremy how he would pay the litigation costs, whereby he had made it clear that if he was ordered to pay the police he would rather go bankrupt than let them have another penny.

Cranston’s full judgment was obtained on 6 January and was written in such a way that it was going to be difficult to challenge. I did notice
that several times he had referred to not having access to expert evidence and that he felt that he was at a disadvantage by not being able to see it. The fact that there had been hearings where other judges had ruled that this was not required because it was a case of who knew what when was obviously lost on Cranston. He accepted Hopkins’s evidence and considered there was no evidence to support Fouhey’s account, the Service Improvement Document, nor Grundy’s reply to Jeremy’s letter of claim. Worse, he found Jeremy’s evidence ‘implausible’. In summary, he had written that in his judgment no civil liability had arisen on the back of the evidence for malicious prosecution or misfeasance in public office. How on earth could we pursue the case? As strong as I had been these past few years, I felt shattered by it all. My ‘normal life’ had disappeared on 30 October 2003 and since then my marriage had involved police, solicitors and an endless tour of courtrooms.

I put on a brave face at work to hide my private misery and let Jeremy pursue the legal stuff until that, in my opinion, would run out of steam. If he was going to bankrupt himself, what was another few thousand pounds for the litigation, especially when I was informed one evening that Leslie was considering appointing a QC to assist with the appeal. This was going the same way as the Gerard case where the big gun was rolled out, and here we were going down the same route.

I learned that to appeal there must firstly be a written appeal direct to the judge that made the decision, which usually was refused. Then there would need to be a request for a hearing for leave to appeal and if this was granted and won, we could have a leave to appeal hearing. Then we would need to win this to get an actual appeal hearing in front of three judges. The whole thing seemed farcical and doomed for failure from my point of view, and it meant the investment of a lot more time and money.

However, Andre submitted the written appeal to Cranston on 12 January and, as expected, this was dismissed by him. There quickly followed
an application for a hearing for leave to appeal on 18 February, which was presented by Leslie. It described, step by step, the many errors that had been made, supported by substantial evidence from the bundles of the December trial. Andre had warned Jeremy not to get his hopes up as there was a minimal chance of getting leave to appeal given the fact that the majority of cases were usually rejected but it was still worth a shot as there was no other alternative for us.

Miraculously, this was granted, and our legal team had to gear up for the next major round in what had become a full-on war. We had to keep our feet on the ground while we patiently waited for a date for the next hearing. Soon we were to find out that this would be on 1 April and I wondered who would be the fools – us or Hertfordshire Constabulary.

Just over six weeks later Jeremy decided to go along and observe this major hearing and prepare himself for the worst. There was no reason to be optimistic with what he had been told and knowing that, historically, there were plenty of fallen appellants. He arrived at the court early as he wanted to sit in on the hearings before his slot to get a feel for how the judge operated. Any remnants of positivity soon dissipated as he watched Lord Justice Sedley, appearing quite bad-tempered, dismiss case after case. In despair, he called me at work to tell me what he had observed and that our efforts looked to be worthless. Normally I would be the one to offer words of encouragement and look for the good points but I could offer neither. Jeremy said Andre, Leslie and Patrick O’Connor (Paddy), the QC Leslie had appointed to lead the appeal, had arrived and that he should join them but would call me later. I put down the phone, just staring out of the window with a feeling of despair at the futility of it all.

About an hour later Jeremy called and my stomach reacted with the churning feeling that I had come to know all too well. ‘Do you want to know what happened?’ he said. I didn’t, but to appease him, he was obviously waiting for me to say ‘yes’. To my absolute astonishment, which
nearly made me fall off my chair, he told me we had won the hearing! My shock reaction this time was to burst into tears, which made Jeremy emotional too. Apparently it had taken only a few minutes of Paddy presenting his arguments before Jeremy had seen Sedley’s demeanour change and he had decided that there appeared to be a strong case for appeal because of the existing evidence. We were over the moon at this turn of events but Andre, as ever, brought us back to earth by reminding us that it was a good result but there was still a long way to go. However, I thought that to mean preparation for court, not as in time, because the date announced for the actual appeal hearing was to be 13 November 2009, just over seven months away, and worse, it was a Friday! I was not normally superstitious but I would have preferred such a major event in our lives to be on a different date – not to mention a lot earlier. We were just coming into the beginning of spring and yet we would be in the throes of winter when we were next due to return to the High Court. Not a great place to be with its cold corridors.