Saving Gary McKinnon (24 page)

David Burrowes sacrificed his time and energy to fight valiantly for Gary for many years. He was so spectacularly selfless that he was even willing to sacrifice his job, threatening to resign if extradition took place. David Burrowes knew that he was
literally
fighting to save Gary’s life.

On 26 September, when Parliament was still in recess, we at last received the medical report from the Home Office psychiatrists. After studying the compelling new medical evidence, the Home Office psychiatrists agreed with the opinions of Gary’s doctors, and especially with the opinion of the esteemed Dr Vermeulen.

At last! Years of ups and downs, of elation and devastation, were finally coming to an end.

No more fate playing games with us, feeding off our fear. Gary was staying, as even the Home Office psychiatrists were now in agreement with Dr Vermeulen.

Although Parliament was closed until 15 October, the requests for interviews never ceased, as the decision on Gary was
drawing
ever closer. I was in ITV’s Gray’s Inn Road studio, sitting on the sofa feeling quite composed, when without warning Gary’s face appeared on the monitor. That always got to me.

They were showing an interview Gary had done years before and tears started surging from that dark place inside that I needed to avoid. I couldn’t cry; I wouldn’t. I had to stay in fight mode.

I looked at Gary on the monitor and it pierced my heart as he was on TV for all the wrong reasons. He looked so
vulnerable
as he answered honestly in his softly spoken voice. He was so talented and it seemed wrong that he wasn’t there for those reasons.

How did we ever end up in this totally surreal scenario? It reminded me of all those ‘enemy of the state’-type films but we were just an ordinary family and Gary had the furthest thing from a criminal mentality that you could get. How could this be happening to us – and for ten long, excruciating years? We desperately needed a good ending.

There were more interviews over the next few days. I suddenly started to panic as I could feel it wasn’t over and knew that I had to fight harder. Wilson sensed this too. The medical evidence in Gary’s case was now overwhelming but from what I’d heard, it seemed that some government advisers were still doing all they could to have Gary extradited.

I widely distributed full details of the new Home Office medical reports to ensure that the decision makers actually got to see the evidence in full, as apparently only a brief is given to ministers by their advisers, and if some advisers happened to have a different agenda I worried about just how brief that brief might be.

I had also noticed that there was one very short sentence in the corner of the Home Office psychiatrist’s report that did not make any sense and I feared this might be designed to be the only sentence forwarded to the Home Secretary.

I learned later that Theresa May makes sure she has the full facts to hand and is usually better informed and more up on matters than her civil servants are.

I also noted examples of other cases where extradition had been refused, with substantially less reason than in Gary’s case, and I included every piece of evidence that I believed met the bar for extradition to be refused.

I sent evidence to local constituency offices as well as to the Commons and the Lords: getting the truth out there was crucial.

Unknown to us, presumably because they had received the
psychiatrist’s new report at such a very late stage, the
government
was still discussing the medical evidence and Theresa May was continuing to read it in depth and to take last-minute legal advice before finally announcing her decision.

O
n 15 October 2012 we were informed that Theresa May would announce her decision on Gary on the following day at around 12 noon.

A young woman from Sky News came to our house to interview me. Her name was Victoria. She was pregnant and brimming with emotion, the way women are when carrying new life.

When the latest round of interviews was over, I was looking through my emails and got this lovely message from Trudie Styler:

We’d had such huge support that I felt Kate Hoey was right when she said in her Commons speech that virtually the whole of the UK was behind Gary.

In the meantime I had arranged for Gary to be a hundred miles away with Lucy and friends and family, as I wanted to be sure that he would not hear the news until we heard it first and made whatever arrangements were necessary.

I looked through the papers; it was being reported in the
Telegraph
that the government was thought to have reached a compromise to have Gary tried in the US but to serve any sentence here in the UK.

Was this what we had fought so hard and waited so long for? No! This would be a death sentence, whether physical death or death of the mind. Gary would be likely to suffer irreversible damage to his mental health even if he did not succeed in taking his own life.

I just didn’t believe it. I believe in good and I believe in miracles and I believed that even at this late stage Theresa May would do the right thing and would save my son.

Melanie Riley rang me and asked me if I would give her two quotes for the newspapers in preparation for Theresa May’s decision on Gary. One quote saying how happy I was,
providing
the decision was a good one, and another quote saying how upset I was, if the decision went against Gary.

I refused to give Melanie two quotes and agreed to give her only one, to be used in event of a refusal to extradite. I felt that as long as I continued to believe, the best would happen.

Karen said that we would be informed of the decision about an hour beforehand. Every minute felt like an hour. People were emailing and ringing to wish us well but I was trying to keep the landline and the mobile clear for Karen to get through to us with the decision.

She rang at around 11.30 a.m. but I missed her call as the phone never stopped ringing.

Karen rang again later and Wilson answered. Suddenly he looked at me and was in tears.

‘Tell me, Wilson, tell me!’

Wilson was crying and tightly holding the phone with Karen on the other end.

‘Wilson, tell me!’ I screamed.

‘I can’t speak,’ Wilson was trying to say, but his voice was cracking and then I heard what I thought was ‘he’s OK’. But I still wasn’t sure as Wilson’s voice wasn’t clear.

‘It’s OK, Janis. It’s over,’ Wilson cried as he handed me the phone.

Karen was crying and could barely speak and I was crying with absolute relief. It was the happiest day of my life. My son was safe, he was going to live, he was going to survive, he was staying here with his family, on the island he was born on, right here where he belonged. Wilson and I hugged and laughed and cried and held hands.

Karen said that Theresa May would officially be announcing her refusal to extradite and we weren’t allowed to go public until after the announcement.

The night before, I had dreamed that Wilson and I were
holding
hands and jumping up and down on the bed and laughing.

I rang Lucy’s friends and asked to speak to Lucy. I knew that even though it was the most amazing news ever, it would still be a huge shock to the system. Even absolute relief can take its toll.

Lucy and Gary both put the phone to their ears and Gary sounded like a wounded animal as he covered his face and moaned with relief.

Lucy cried and cuddled and comforted Gary. I know exactly what happened and how it looked at the very moment that I gave Gary and Lucy the news, as the friends they were with
filmed their reaction on two mobile phones and later gave us an SD card with the video on it.

Although it was the happiest moment of our lives, it was also hugely painful to witness Gary’s reaction and was much too personal to share visually, so I didn’t.

I spoke to Michael Seamark from the
Daily Mail
, who had somehow got wind of the decision. They wanted to photograph Gary and I explained that he wasn’t here, he was with Lucy. Michael said, ‘Don’t worry, we’ll send a car to pick them up and bring them to your house.’ I explained that they were actually more than a hundred miles away.

‘What! Let me ring you back in five minutes.’

Michael rang back. ‘Janis. I’ve just spoken to my colleague Christian Gysin who works here and Christian is going to drive up to your house, pick you up and take you to wherever Gary is and the photographer will meet us there and get some photos of you all together. Is that OK?’

‘Yes, but as I’m supposed to be at the press conference in London by 2.30 p.m., what I could do is ring Lucy and get her to start driving Gary towards London and we could meet them halfway?’

‘Right, let’s do that.’

I rang Lucy and Gary and explained how important it was for us to do this, as the
Daily Mail
had supported us and had run their ‘Affront to British Justice’ campaign for Gary for years. This was such a tiny thing to do in return.

Gary and Lucy spent a short time with her parents, just crying together, and Lucy then started to drive Gary towards London.

Christian Gysin of the
Daily Mail
arrived at our house and crowds of new young journalists hoping for a break were standing outside our door wanting to know the decision. I couldn’t risk the news being published before Theresa May had
announced it, as that would get Gary’s lawyers into trouble. On the way out to the car, young journalists and photographers were all crowding around asking for news and I felt bad that I couldn’t tell them, as they were all just doing their jobs. But all the journalists I knew were on their way to the press conference and confidentiality was crucial.

Christian’s sports car was suited to fast travel and he was a really good driver. I couldn’t wait to see Gary. Lucy and I kept in touch during the journey via a hands-free car phone to make sure we all stopped off at the same service station, which ended up being Watford Gap.

We got out of the car and the wind was howling. Nick Clegg rang me on the mobile but I couldn’t hear him properly because of the wind, so he was going to ring back in a few minutes.

When we started to walk over the footbridge to get to the motorway restaurant on the southbound side the wind almost blew us off our feet.

The phone rang again. It was Nick Clegg ringing back to congratulate us on the outcome and to say that he hoped I understood why he couldn’t meet with me when I’d asked him to. I told him how proud I was of the government and of Theresa May for her tremendous decision and I thanked him and David Cameron for giving her their full backing. But the wind was blowing so hard it was impossible to have a conversation while I was on the footbridge.

David Davis rang several times to congratulate us, though regrettably I kept missing his call.

We walked into the Road Chef motorway restaurant and Christian and I sat down to wait for Gary, Lucy and the
photographer
. Wilson was holding the video camera waiting to capture the moment when Gary walked in. The memory of seeing Lucy and Gary arrive in the car park, knowing that Gary was a free
man, will be ingrained on my soul forever. Tears are flowing again at the memory of that feeling of release.

Gary walked into the large restaurant and I could see that he was still in a daze. He was tall but he looked little to me and just seeing him outside in the world again, smiling through tears, was a sight to behold.

We stood in the middle of the floor and just hugged and cried and hugged and cried. A decade of stress released in a sea of tears, like a river bursting through a dam and flowing free again. This was our once-in-a-lifetime moment.

All eyes were fixed on us. People who recognised Gary had tears in their eyes and others were watching curiously, no doubt wondering who we were and what was going on. The photographer arrived and Lucy and Gary and Wilson and I all went out to the grassy part of the car park and hugged and jumped for joy as the camera lens captured these magical moments of freedom.

Wilson insisted on staying behind the camera but I wish he had been in the photos too, as he has been my rock, my support, my solace, my love.

We then hugged Gary and Lucy goodbye as I had to go to the press conference, where everyone was waiting, and Gary and Lucy headed for home, as Gary needed to rest and to let the day’s momentous events sink in.

Christian was an excellent driver and his sports car just flew down the motorway, but I was worried about just how late I was going to be, as the traffic once we reached London was bound to be a problem. But I told myself that as Karen Todner, David Burrowes, Shami Chakrabarti, Edward Fitzgerald, Ben Cooper
and Mark Lever were all there the press conference would go ahead without me.

Melanie rang in a panic to find out where I was and I told her I was almost there, which wasn’t quite true. When I
eventually
arrived at Doughty Street Chambers, I couldn’t believe the number of journalists and photographers waiting outside. The atmosphere was fantastic and the press were all smiling and laughing and many had tears in their eyes. Alex Magill, a film maker who highlights injustice, was the first one to greet us and gave me a big hug.

When I went inside the chambers I felt guilty, as instead of finding everyone sitting at a large table giving a press
conference
, as I expected, Melanie ushered me into a little room that Karen, Shami and the others on the panel were squeezed into, waiting for me to arrive.

I said hello and apologised to everyone and told them how nice they looked, as everyone apart from me was all dressed up. We went into the main area, where the very large room was packed wall to wall with journalists and camera crews. We sat down at a long table and the press conference began at around four o’clock; everyone had been hanging around for about an hour and a half and, unbelievably, they had not only waited for me, they didn’t seem annoyed at having to do so.

I always think the press are so patient and generally really good humoured.

Karen spoke first, which I was grateful for, as the events of this day were overwhelming and I couldn’t speak. Mountains of emotions were rushing through my mind and body, making me want to laugh and cry and to hug everyone. I had no sense of logic or thought, just pure emotion.

Karen was so eloquent and thanked the people who had helped us. After everyone on the panel had spoken, it was my
turn. When I stared out at the crowd of journalists I was smiling and felt myself starting to cry. I couldn’t speak and thought I wasn’t going to be able to. I looked ahead and there right in front of me was Victoria Wade, the young pregnant journalist from Sky News who had interviewed me the day before. Victoria was smiling and her eyes were filled with empathy and tears as she silently told me that I could do it.

It’s a mother thing, a female thing, a human thing; a language of emotion that needs no words. I could feel such warmth surrounding me, helping to give me the strength to hold it together.

Tears
. I tried to speak.
More tears
. Please let me hold it together, I thought. Otherwise I’ll sit here and cry for half an hour and I’ll embarrass everyone and I mustn’t do that. So I started.

‘It’s been an emotional rollercoaster.’ My voice started to break and I looked over at Victoria again with her baby in her tummy, as she was willing me to do it, and I smiled and carried on.