The only person who saw the punch was Mark O’Gorman, and Mr O’Gorman was sure that the person who threw the punch was the same person who was earlier urinating among the dancers. Others in Jonathan’s group had seen the person urinating, so there were several witnesses involved in the question of identification because of the linking of the two events. The identification procedure conducted by the Greek police was not the same as the identification procedure that would have taken place in this country. It would not have been an acceptable way of conducting matters in this country. Several witnesses looked over photographs together. Once one witness had made what he thought was the identification, the other witnesses all looked at that photograph. This, frankly, placed those witnesses in an appalling situation. While I’m satisfied that they were doing their best on that night, the reason why such care is taken over identification procedures in this country is because it is so easy to get it wrong. In this country, I have known loved ones to identify the body of a deceased to the police, only subsequently to discover that the person is not in fact their family member. I know that has happened on more than one occasion. However much those witnesses looked at the photographs in the police station in Zante – in July 2007 – however much they tried to empty their minds of the views of their friends … I think that that was impossible for them to do. After the first person had pointed out the man we now know is Andrew Symeou in the photograph, all of the young men turned their attention to that photograph, rather than having to pick the suspect out with fresh eyes. Identification in such a situation seems to me a wholly unsafe identification to make.
The photograph wasn’t the only matter. I turn from that to the descriptions given by the witnesses who were with Jonathan, and who either saw the punch or the man urinating. The best evidence is generally from first witness statements taken close to the events. The witness statements I received from Greece, and had translated, I’m very sorry to say I’ve found of no assistance at all. I find that they do not represent the substance of the information given by Jonathan’s friends. They are not separate statements of individuals, but a mishmash of information, lumped together by police – and they bear almost no resemblance to the individual versions of events as given by the five young men. In terms of the evidence given since, the witnesses have focused in court on the beard of the man who threw the punch – but there has been doubt as to whether he had a moustache. The identification now simply cannot measure up to the standard of proof to which I must adhere. Nearly six years have passed since Jonathan died. The witnesses have all seen Andrew Symeou sitting in the dock of a Greek courtroom in the meantime – and with the best will in the world, I simply cannot rely on the evidence that they give now in that respect.
Having decided that this identification evidence is unsafe, I want to tell you that I then went on to consider whether there was evidence the other way. In other words – whether there was evidence that the person who punched Jonathan was not Andrew Symeou. I considered the other evidence that I heard, most particularly from Andrew Symeou and the friends who were with him on the night. Those three young men gave evidence that they were not in the club where Jonathan was punched at the relevant time. Before considering the evidence of the three individuals, from whom I heard on this point, what struck me on the outset was that … if they’re lying, because the three of them were at the Rescue bar, and Mr Symeou did punch Jonathan, then … to concoct a lie to try and deal with that – by giving the story that they weren’t even in the bar at the relevant time is a very risky strategy. These are young men, they are of a generation used to Facebook, used to the internet in all its forms, used to an environment in which many people – not just young people – have cameras on their mobile phones and there is often CCTV in bars. A lie of that nature might quite easily be disproved. So at the outset, I say that this would be a risky strategy. Of course it’s possible, but it’s something that I bear in mind.
I turn now to the oral testimony I heard from Christopher Kyriacou, Charles Klitou and Andrew Symeou himself. I say plainly, that I found these witnesses to be utterly truthful, completely accurate and wholly compelling. I find that not only did Andrew Symeou not punch Jonathan Hiles, but he was not even in the bar at the time. I’m aware that Mr Kyriacou and Mr Klitou made statements to the Greek police saying they were there, and they saw Mr Symeou was the perpetrator of this crime. I’m very sorry to say that these statements are simply not worth the paper they are written on. They contain fanciful information about an argument over a young woman, and I find that they were concocted by the Greek police in a very misguided effort to solve this crime. The story I heard from Mr Kyriacou and Mr Klitou, of the way they were treated, I would not have believed unless I had heard it with my own ears. They were not just badly treated, they were not just bullied – they were beaten. They signed the statements put in front of them for one reason, and one reason only: because they were afraid … and with good reason.
Jonathan’s death is an absolute tragedy for his family, but they were not the only ones who were hurt here.
For the avoidance of doubt, I’m returning a verdict of unlawful killing. I do not name the perpetrator of the crime – because that would be unlawful. However, the basis upon which I return this verdict is that I do not know who the person was who killed Jonathan, but I know that that person was not Andrew Symeou.
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AND IT WILL
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I have a profound memory of my grandfather, Andreas Symeou (who I was named after). It was a sunny, spring afternoon in 2006 when the whole family was sitting around my grandparents’ dining table. My granddad began to share gripping stories of his childhood in the Cypriot village of Lapathos, and told us of the hardship that he’d faced growing up there. In the summer of 1955, at the age of twenty-two, he’d decided to immigrate to England for a better way of life. He couldn’t afford a boat ticket, so he invested in two piglets – he raised them for a year, and then sold them to a butcher for a hefty profit. Upon his arrival in London he was stranded in Victoria Station, homeless, because the person who he’d planned to live with had never turned up. My granddad was overwhelmed with tears when he told us the story, even though fifty years had passed.
I thought I’d share the memory I have of my granddad because (at the time) it made me feel like I’d never have a story to tell. Only two years later, I experienced something far more harrowing than he ever did. It just goes to show that we have absolutely no idea what our futures will hold.
It’s been a journey that I couldn’t have imagined, and I’ve learned some very important lessons along the way. One of the most obvious is to be extremely careful when abroad – especially if we ever find ourselves in the hands of foreign police. I’ve never blamed Chris and Charlie for what happened. Through no fault of their own they were forced into a terrible situation at the young age of eighteen. If I were violently intimidated by people of authority at that age, I probably would have done exactly the same thing. Now I’ve learned that if I were to be picked up and dragged to a police station when overseas, I wouldn’t speak unless a competent interpreter and British consular staff were contacted. Most importantly, I wouldn’t sign anything that I was unsure of. The police officers could lock me up for days and beat me senseless, but after everything that I’ve gone through, I’d like to believe that I still wouldn’t sign.
As soon as my family discovered that I’d been wrongly implicated as a killer, they did absolutely everything to try to fix the mess. At no stage did they ever doubt my innocence – not even for a moment. I’m fortunate enough to have had the emotional and financial backing of a strong family. What would have happened if a European Arrest Warrant was issued for someone else’s arrest, and that person had absolutely no support network? They would have been extradited within ten days of their arrest and dumped in a Greek prison! With no support, they could have easily fallen into the trap of heroin addiction or drug dealing in prison – not to ment
ion been involved in violent riots. When finally making it to trial, there would have been no defence witnesses and the translation would have been appalling. With no money for a competent lawyer, they might have been sentenced to twenty years in prison – all because of an incorrect, unsafe identification from a photograph taken on a different night to the attack. If it could happen to me, it could happen to anyone.
Once I’d been arrested for the fatal bodily harm of Jonathan Hiles, we discovered that a British court would have no power to consider my innocence, and I could spend up to a year and a half in prison on remand. My family gained access to the Greek investigation, which we scrutinised and exposed as completely flawed. We campaigned and protested for this to be acknowledged, and for a competent investigation to be conducted. My parents taught me that we should never give up a battle when truth is onside. It was stressful and exhausting because the world was against us, but nothing would have caused us to give up.
Despite our incredible fight for justice, the European Arrest Warrant meant that my extradition was inevitable. I was treated as though I was guilty and ended up in prison on remand having to endure some horrific situations. In the twenty-first century, within the European Union, this shouldn’t be allowed to happen. If the British authorities had the power to scrutinise the Greek investigation, I would have been exonerated – eliminating me from the scene of the crime as soon as they were issued with a warrant for my arrest. Not only would I have been able to continue with my life, but there would have been a chance to find the real assailant, who remains at large. As much as I appreciate that the government have acknowledged the flaws in the European Arrest Warrant, the changes they have made aren’t strong enough at all. British citizens facing extradition must be completely safeguarded. We must extradite only if there is sufficient evidence of criminal guilt. Even if we were to disregard my imprisonment completely, I still went through the stress of a lengthy criminal trial abroad – and I didn’t fit the description of the perpetrator from Day 1.
The night before I was extradited, my uncle Andy told me that there would ‘be many ups and downs’. It was difficult to believe that there would be any ‘ups’ when incarcerated. Surprisingly, my time in prison wasn’t all doom and gloom. I’d made a handful of friends, like Arnas and Fivos, so at least I have some positive memories of my time in Avlona. One of the most memorable was sitting around a table in our cell, drinking prison-brewed alcohol and laughing for what felt like the first time in years. We made the most out of our terrible situation, and on that warm summer night – it felt like we were free.
I wish that my positive memories of prison could outweigh the bad, but they can’t at all. My uncle Andy had also told me, ‘However difficult it is, whatever you have to go through for this to be over, you will find the inner strength.’ When he told me this, I found it very difficult to believe him. Now I understand how true his words were. One of the biggest lessons that I’ve learned is that we can surprise ourselves with how strong we can be, especially when we have no other choice but to face our fears. With positive thinking and support, however difficult it is to achieve, we can get through anything.
It’s been a struggle, but my fight for justice was victorious in the end. The years between 2007 and 2013 will be significant to me for the rest of my life. There were many ups and downs, and it’s tough to know exactly how it’s changed me. From my teenage years into my twenties I would have inevitably grown as a person anyway. I don’t feel the need to list how it’s negatively affected me, because life is far too short for that. I can’t change the past, so I’ll just have to let go of any feelings of resentment or bitterness, and turn my bad experience around as much as I can. I’ll use the lessons that I’ve learned – take every opportunity that I have – and try to mould my life into everything that I want it to be. Life is a rollercoaster, and we have absolutely no clue what’s around the corner – saying that, my experience has more than prepared me for the ‘ups and downs’ to come. When I do eventually find myself going through a difficult period in my life, I know that I’ll do everything I can to make it better. And if I fail in the attempt, and the rough patch seems like it could take an eternity to end, I’ll simply remind myself of what an old friend once said: ‘It doesn’t matter how long it takes to happen, all that matters is that it will.’
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
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First I’d like to thank Karen Todner of Kaim Todner Solicitors and Rupert Pardoe of 23 Essex Street Chambers. Together you kindly offered to help me financially while I wrote my draft manuscript and studied towards my degree. I may not have written this book if I hadn’t had that initial push. I’d also like to thank my publisher Iain Dale (and Duncan Barkes at LBC for putting me in touch with him). To everyone at Biteback Publishing, I was a student with no writing experience, yet you gave me such a brilliant opportunity. Including Rupert and Karen, thank you all for believing in me. You’ve helped me turn my life around in a way that I never thought I could. Moreover, I owe a massive acknowledgement to my editor, Victoria Godden, Adonis Pratsides (who kindly agreed to review my draft manuscript and took the time to help me edit it before submission) and Fivos Kalfopoulos (for checking over the Greek translations). Your contributions made a huge difference to the production of this memoir and I’m very grateful for your help.
To all those who protested outside of Westminster Magistrates’ Court or stood in the freezing cold and chanted outside of the Greek embassy – words can’t really describe how much I thank you. Many people wrote letters to politicians and/or signed my petition. When all failed, many donated money to the campaign (which paid for defence witnesses to fly to Greece). I have no idea how we would have coped if we hadn’t had such incredible support. I thank you all very much – you went through this journey with us. I’d also like to express my gratitude to the politicians who acknowledged the flaws in the European Arrest Warrant and supported my case, including Baroness Sarah Ludford (Lib Dem), Gerard Batten (UKIP), Joan Ryan (and her then assistant James Kilmarten, Labour), and most importantly Nick de Bois (Conservative).
I’d like to thank John Jones QC and Edward Fitzgerald QC of the Doughty Street Chambers for representing me in my extradition appeals in London. We were up against a formidable law, yet you both did absolutely everything that you could to fight against the injustice. Unfortunately the EAW was an all-too-powerful rival at the time, which was completely out of our control. I’d like to thank everyone at Linn and Associates, Corker Binning and the AIRE centre; your help to us was very much appreciated. Jago Russell and everyone at Fair Trials International – you made me feel strong when I was at my weakest point. You are an incredible organisation and I thank you for everything that you’ve done for my family and me. Furthermore, one of my most important acknowledgements is to George Pyromallis, who defended me in my trial in 2011. It was a long and stressful period but the truth came out in the end. Although you didn’t like to show it, I know how emotionally attached you became towards our case. Thanks to you, Vanessa Katsara and everyone at your office at the time who fought for me, I have been able to put it all behind me (as best I can) and move on with my life. I’ll never forget you.
To all my family and friends, especially those who were at our house almost every day during the extradition appeals (you know who you are), you were amazing throughout this ordeal. Thank you to Teresa and Leslie Johnson, Georgina Paraskeva, my godfather Eleftherios Panayiotou (Lef) and all of your families for being there for us through thick and thin. Simeos Yiannikaris always drove us to court, Nick Demetriades chanted through a bullhorn in the cold, Nick Paraskeva made a website for us and Andy Spyrou (and several others) went out of their way to give me advice that I’ll never forget. These are things that you didn’t have to do, but you did, and it means more to me than you’d know. Thank you to the Kouttis family for hosting a very successful fund-raising event and Gabriella Bord for everything you did to help. Kristianna Paraskeva, you were such a g
ood friend to me when I was going through hell; and Andrew Demetriou you were too. Of course, I can’t forget the ‘Bum Squad!’: Andrew, Maria Demetriou and Sophia Di Piazza – you guys are the best.
Thank you to my grandparents, Bappou Andrico, Yiayia Nitsa and Yiayia Sofoulla, I love you all very much. I know how difficult this was for you but you all showed remarkable strength. Thank you to my uncle Theo Constantinou, uncle George and auntie Mary Nicolaides – and all of my cousins, especially Andreas Nicolaides who paid me a surprise visit in Athens when I was at a very low point in my life. On that note, thank you to my relatives from Cyprus who visited us in Greece, especially Louis Pericleous; and everyone who visited me in prison or at the trial; Uncle Spyros and Auntie Niki Spyrou, Uncle Bambos and Auntie Sotoulla Demetriou, Luke Cutajar and Maria Michael. My auntie Avgi Pericleous – I know how passionate you felt about me writing this book; I’ve dedicated it to Uncle Andreas because I can’t even begin to describe how much I appreciate everything you both did for us – he was a very good man. I also owe a huge thank you to Riya, who lived through this experience with me and dealt with a hell of a lot. We were victims of bad timing and circumstances, but even throughout the bad times there were a lot of good. Thank you to her mum Ansuya, who came all the way to Athens with her while I was in prison. I appreciate how supportive you were to her regarding this terrible situation.
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