by Baz Wade
Mike’s main responsibility was security but he was also expected to help out with such mundane tasks as shopping and chauffeuring.
The Sutherlands decided early on that they would, one day, tell Karim who his natural parents were, but had not decided when. For the time being his name was Karim Ali Stuart Sutherland and that was the way it was going to stay until the Sutherlands might decide otherwise.
3
“My father didn’t deny his celebrity. He treated the Press the way you would do a dog – if you run away, it will chase you and bite you, but if you play with it, it may lick your hand.”
Paloma Picasso.1
March 1995, London Docklands
When they discovered Andy Sheikh’s office block had an exclusive gym, squash court and swimming pool in the basement for use by him and his fellow Directors only, Sheikh’s friends knew he’d arrived – big time.
Andy had come a long way since he’d started as an office junior at The Sun in the late 70s and he was very proud of his achievements.
He had quickly got himself noticed as a bright spark and been taken on to write sports reports – that was his day job.
In the evenings he managed to build up a very healthy magazine and newspaper distribution business, employing various family members and working out of a warehouse in Bethnal Green.
In late 1987, just before the crash, Andy floated his business on the Stock Exchange which netted him personally a 7-figure sum – around the same time he got promoted to joint Editor news and current affairs at The Sun and then found himself sitting on a pile of cash when the 1988 property slump hit. At that point he invested in a large portfolio of cut price commercial and residential property and a substantial shareholding in The Sun and its holding company, which the original proprietor was happy to offload.
From there he’d not looked back, to the extent that now, in 1995, he and his family had a controlling interest in The Sun and he was able to dictate editorial policy.
By this time Sheikh had developed a keen interest in politics. Additionally he had not forgotten about his Muslim roots – after all, he was the son of an Imam, hailing originally from Pakistan. His commercial acumen he had inherited from his mother’s side of the family. Her father had been a prominent and successful businessman back in Pakistan, complete with 3 wives, as was commensurate with his financial and social status.
The days of 6.00 am starts to his working day were now over and today he had started work at a more leisurely 8.00 am in readiness for an editorial conference at 9.00 am.
But it wasn’t that meeting that was of particular interest to him – it was a later meeting scheduled for 11.00 am with Hassan Khaled that was exercising his mind right now.
He had met Khaled on several occasions before – they were both prominent members of the Muslim community involved in charity functions and events.
But why was Khaled insistent on bringing a lawyer with him and why did he ask for The Sun’s chief lawyer to be also present at the meeting?
The meeting had been set up by Khaled’s lawyer, a Mr Ben Fitzsimmons, a partner with a pukka firm near Lincoln’s Inn. All he would say was that the matter was confidential and they wanted it kept that way – for the time being.
The 11.00 am meeting convened on time.
Sheikh was accompanied by his lawyer, David Gibbs, who was a specialist in libel and commercial contracts and a partner in a “top 10” city firm. Hassan Khaled had with him the said Ben Fitzsimmons, an expert in commercial litigation.
Hassan opened the bidding by saying:
“I have come here to offer you the scoop of the century. It’s information relating to my son’s partner, Caroline, the former Princess of Wales.”
“Is she alive?” asked Sheikh.
“I need a confidentiality agreement from you before I can answer that question. You won’t be disappointed. Are you both okay with that, in principle? What I’m saying is that I want to buy time – then in return I can give you the whole story which you can go public with, when I choose.”
“How long will we have to wait?” asked Sheikh.
“Several years maybe.”
“We could all be dead in several years.”
“That’s true, but our companies will still be around hopefully as will our lawyers or their successors who have a professional duty of confidentiality.”
“So what exactly are you offering?”
“Initially I’m offering your company £50,000 to sign a confidentiality agreement plus £25,000 to you personally as a sweetener – that should be enough to fill the fuel tank of your yacht or executive jet,” joked Hassan.
“I haven’t got a yacht or executive jet.”
“Maybe not, but by the time you’ve done this deal you should be well on the way to having more than enough cash for both” – Hassan continued – “what I’m suggesting is that our lawyers here thrash out the finer points of a confidentiality agreement which we both sign and hand over the money – we have brought Bank drafts with us – and then meet again, in say a week’s time, when I will disclose items and material to you which are likely to be of interest.
We can then conclude a more detailed contract with a payment to me when you actually use the material, which will not be before a date in the future specified by me.”
“What happens if we ignore the confidentiality agreement and publish the story regardless?” asked Sheikh.
“Over to you on that please Ben,” said Hassan.
“There will be a substantial penalty clause in the confidentiality agreement which would be more than enough to discourage you from cheating or leaking,” said Fitzsimmons.
“Also, there’s the point that the sweetener I will be paying you personally reinforces the point that it’s also a question of honour between fellow Muslims. A manly embrace between us when the deal is done should have the same effect honour-wise as a handshake would have between our British friends.”
“Yes, I see what you are saying – any views David?”
“Is there a down side if we sign the confidentiality agreement but then don’t sign the contract?” asked Gibbs.
“Yes, there will be a provision to claw back 80% of the £50K payment if the contract is not signed within 4 weeks,” responded Fitzsimmons.
“What about payments in the contract?” asked Gibbs.
“Yes, there will be payments required under the contract but I think Hassan will agree that it’s pointless to discuss the amounts until your side has seen the material.”
“Yes, I agree,” said Hassan.
“Okay, we’ll agree to go ahead – in principle,” said Sheikh “ – apart from anything else I’m curious to see the evidence – sounds like it could be box office stuff.
Hassan, how about us having a tour of the newsroom and so on while the lawyers sit down and thrash out the confidentiality agreement?”
“Sounds fine by me,” replied Hassan.
“I prepared a draft agreement earlier so we shouldn’t be more than an hour,” Fitzsimmons commented.
“Okay, let’s adjourn till 1.00 pm then we can re-convene for a working lunch,” responded Sheikh.
Sheikh phoned his secretary to say they wanted lunch for four at 1.00 pm in the boardroom.
By the time the meeting re-convened, the lawyers had earned themselves another £500 plus VAT each, not that their wealthy clients were likely to complain – they would regard such as money well spent – as well as being tax deductible.
“Do we have a deal?” asked Hassan.
“We have a confidentiality agreement – aka non-disclosure agreement – for you both to look through prior to signing,” responded Fitzsimmons.
“Fine, we’ll read it – I hope it’s in plain English!” joked Sheikh.
The agreement was produced in duplicate and Sheikh and Hassan took a few minute
s to absorb the main points which had already been carefully sifted and refined by their lawyers.
“Are you okay with this now Andy?” enquired Hassan.
“Yes, it looks reasonable enough – are there any drawbacks David?”
“It’s fair so far as I’m concerned,” replied Gibbs.
“I have the Bank drafts here, one for £50,000 made out to Star Media Plc, owners of The Sun, and the other for £25,000 made out to Mr Sheikh personally,” volunteered Fitzsimmons.
“Fine, let’s rock and roll then” said Sheikh, sitting down with pen poised – “where do I sign?”
With the signing done, the agreements and money changed hands and the parties said their goodbyes which included Hassan’s version of a manly embrace of Sheikh, to seal the deal.
A week later the same four men met again in the same location.
This time Fitzsimmons extracted a file from his briefcase.
“Here is the material Hassan has asked me to disclose to you – I’ve brought hard copies of it.”
“Isn’t it on your laptop?” asked Sheikh.
“No – to cut down on the risk of hackers getting hold of it – so far as we are concerned it’s the Holy Grail in this story and we have to protect such, as best we can.”
“It’s a long story,” said Hassan, “but essentially Caroline was not killed in the car crash in Italy – she went to ground after that tragedy – she was pregnant and she stayed with a friend of mine in Morocco, but sadly died in childbirth – the baby, a boy, was born healthy – he is my grandson, Karim.
Here is a copy of Caroline’s Death Certificate in her unmarried name of Gibson-West. Here is Karim’s Birth Certificate with my son, Ali, named as the father.”
There was a 15-second pause while Sheikh and Gibbs examined the certificates. “I see what you mean about scoop of the century, but how can we be certain these certificates are genuine – in the nicest possible way, of course?” asked Sheikh.
“Because they are solicitor certified true copies – ie personally signed by me, having seen the originals,” responded Fitzsimmons.
“Also there is the photo of Caroline pregnant in Morocco holding a copy of Paris Match,” commented Hassan.
Fitzsimmons produced the photo of Caroline in bikini, obviously pregnant, holding the magazine with a well known French actor on the cover.
“To enable you to check the date,” Fitzsimmons continued “I have here the front cover of the magazine – it’s the April 21st 1994 edition – nearly 4 months after the crash in Italy.”
“So who is bringing up young Karim and where?” enquired Sheikh.
“You don’t need to know that right now,” replied Hassan. “In the fullness of time you can have the complete story exclusively. I want to protect Karim’s privacy while he’s a child, so he can have as normal an upbringing as possible.”
“So why are you telling us about his existence, even?” asked Sheikh.
“I calculate that the truth will out at some stage and I am trying to manage how and when the story emerges and also make money for my family and Karim, in particular, out of the story,” Hassan continued. “Also the contract will provide for you to protect Karim and his privacy until he is 21, at which point you can publish the story. Meanwhile, what you have should be kept under lock and key – apart from anything else, Karim may be regarded as a threat by the Royal Family and the Establishment generally and there are plenty of ‘rogue elements’ in MI6 etc who would be keen to neutralise Karim, particularly as he is being brought up as a Muslim. By the time he’s 21, I am expecting him to be able to look after himself.”
“So please let us have the financial details,” responded Sheikh. “We need to know firstly how much you expect us to spend on protecting Karim’s privacy and secondly how much we need to find to enable us to publish the story when Karim is 21, or earlier if someone bumps him off before then.”
“Don’t say that,” said Hassan “I hope and pray it never happens.”
“To be a tad mercenary, we will want to protect our investment,” said Sheikh.
“To answer your question, I would not expect you to pay out anything before he’s 21 unless there is some kind of emergency, like my running out of money due to a major business crisis. Hopefully I may just need your advice from time to time plus maybe legal help and support if it looks like another paper may be about to get hold of the story from another source.” Hassan continued, “ – regarding the story itself, I reckon £5 million on publication would be fair – index linked to take into account inflation – and to include disclosure of background information about my family in general and Karim in particular.”
“In principle, I’ll agree 4 million provided the contract looks okay,” replied Sheikh “and provided we have some access to Karim personally once he’s 18 – Karim would have to agree this and if he doesn’t I can only agree 1 million. We would also want book and film rights included in the contract – that almost goes without saying.”
“You’re driving a harder bargain that I expected,” replied Hassan “but I’m not going elsewhere with this as things stand, so the answer’s yes – provided we can have half the net profit on any book or film.”
“Yes, agreed,” said Sheikh. “Okay, let’s all re-convene at, say, 2.00 pm for a late lunch, which should be enough time for the lawyers to thrash out the finer points?”
“Yesterday I spent 2 hours working on a draft agreement in anticipation so I reckon a further 2 hours should be long enough to amend and agree it – are you okay with that David?” asked Fitzsimmons.
“Sounds fine to me,” responded Gibbs.
“Okay, Hassan, I’ll show you my embryonic art collection while the lawyers put their heads together – no old Masters yet – I’m trying to encourage living artists – it’s cheaper that way!” said Sheikh.
By the time the meeting re-convened at 2.00 pm, the lawyers had each racked up an additional £1,000 plus VAT in costs. As far as they were concerned it was well deserved, as they both felt exhausted after 2 hours of unremitting mental concentration, under pressure, to agree the final wording.
“Okay guys, are we ready to roll?” asked Sheikh.
“Yes, I reckon it’s doable and reasonable – I don’t have a problem with it,” replied Gibbs.
“The agreement’s now 17 pages – you’d better read it – we’ve prepared 2 copies so here you are,” said Fitzsimmons, handing them each a document.
“Why do you lawyers always have to be so verbose?” said Sheikh.
“One reason is that we try and avoid punctuation, which leads to clerical errors, so there’s loads of ands, ifs and buts,” said Fitzsimmons.
“Steady on with the buts, I may be the owner of The Sun but I’m also a practising Muslim,” joked Sheikh.
Gibbs just managed to suppress a snigger.
Hassan was mildly shocked at this contribution but let it pass.
“Okay, we’ll read it while we have lunch,” Sheikh continued.
He then rang his secretary to say they were ready to eat, and 5 minutes later the food appeared.
Sheikh had a sharp eye, having proof read in the newspaper business off and on for years, and quickly spotted 3 or 4 typos which were corrected by Fitzsimmons on his laptop and the final versions of the document were then printed, signed and exchanged, much to Hassan’s relief and satisfaction. It might not be ideal but, in the circumstances, it was the best he could do for his family in general and Karim in particular.
4
Dubai 1995 – 2012
Tom Sutherland had 3 main objectives in his life – in approximate order of importance as follows:
Firstly to earn enough as a lawyer to put food on the table and educate his children, which in Dubai meant at least £175K p.a. (or the equivalent), as fee paying education was the only option.
Secondly to
make sure his wife, Mari’s, nagging tendencies were directed towards external rather than family targets, which these days usually meant Mike, the minder. Tom loved Mari very much, but if the nagging was directed internally, ie towards him, he found it destructive in respect of their otherwise healthy relationship.
Mike was a tough ex-Para, took the nagging on the chin and with good humour, earning Tom’s eternal gratitude. Mike once jokingly asked Tom what the Arabic word for nagging was so he could ask Mari to stop doing it. Tom said there wasn’t one, though they do it all the time!
Tom’s third priority was to find enough time in his busy schedule to indulge his passion for jazz in general and playing the trumpet in particular, emulating his hero, Miles Davis.
Tom had a shed load of jazz CDs which included most, if not all, of what Davis had ever recorded.
While a student at Oxford, Tom had spent some of his vacations in Morocco which was where he’d originally met Mari, and some working in the U.S., particularly in New York and New Orleans feeding his jazz habit.
After passing his law finals, he did his training with a London firm which had offices in the Middle East, which was how he’d eventually ended up in Dubai. The location was Arab enough for Mari to feel at home and yet partially westernised, particularly in the business world, so Tom was also content with it.
Tom had no problem at all with fitting Karim into his life – he looked forward to teaching him to play football on the beach, only a 5-minute walk from the family home in the Jumeirah district.
Additionally, Hassan’s promise of generous financial help to bring up Karim meant there was no need for Tom to worry about the expense of having another mouth to feed.
Little Karim fitted in well over the next 3 years or so, to the routines of the Sutherlands’ family life. He grew to love his adopted sisters, Alina and Safaa, and they in turn were affectionate and protective towards him.
Then one day, shortly after his third birthday, came the inevitable bombshell.