Fit Up

by Faith Clifford

  I found out that between 1999 and 2001, after a tip off, a US investigation was conducted into Landslide Productions Inc., a Texas-based online pornography portal operated by Thomas and Janice Reedy. The portal was found to have provided access to child pornography and the Reedys were both convicted of trafficking child pornography in 2001.

  Following the investigation and conviction, ‘Operation Avalanche’ was launched in the US to trace and prosecute child pornography users identified in the Landslide database. The FBI also passed identities from this database to police organisations in other countries, including the names of those in the UK. As a result of this, Operation Ore was launched in the UK and was this country’s biggest ever computer crime investigation. So overwhelming was the scale of it that the government had granted over £20 million to police forces to assist them in this case.

  In May 2002 a BBC documentary revealed that thirty-six people had been arrested up to that time and predicted there were thousands more to follow. I had not watched the programme but I did remember the subsequent press articles. I didn’t have any real thoughts one way or another about it, it was just news read on the day.

  More worrying was that in January 2003, the Operation Ore list of the 7,250 or so suspects had somehow come into the possession of the Sunday Times. Although no names had been printed, it was said that the list included prominent individuals, teachers, military personnel, civil servants and a ‘famous pop star’. In another article I read that the pop star in question was Pete Townshend of The Who, which I remembered seeing on the news at the beginning of 2003, as he had had a very public arrest and search of his home. I was beginning to feel uneasy about the lengths the police were going to with this national investigation and how unbelievable that, out of the whole population in this country, Jeremy had ended up on such a list.

  Another article caught my eye about another pop musician, Robert Del Naja of the group Massive Attack, who had been arrested in February 2003. The difference between the two cases was that Townshend had taken a caution after acknowledging his credit card was used on Landslide, but in the case of Del Naja, after all his computer equipment was seized, it was returned after a month with no charge. This gave me hope that this would be the same for Jeremy.

  The item that really caught my eye and lifted my spirits a little was about the discovery of massive credit card fraud on the Landslide database. This must have been the explanation for Jeremy’s subscriptions to the site. Evidence was also revealing police and prosecution incompetence as found by increasing numbers of people working in computer forensics.

  My mind was in overload with the information I had discovered and I was anxious to talk to Jeremy about it. It was beginning to dawn on me that his name was involved in something very big.

  On the way back to my office I bumped into the human resources officer with whom I used to work. Her brow creased quizzically as she looked at me and asked, ‘Are you all right, Faith?’ Perhaps I did not look my normal self for her to ask. My eyes blurred as I forced myself to stare intently over her head focusing on one of the plants in the courtyard. If I were to blink now my eyelids would spill fat hot tears down my cheeks. I knew that once I started to cry, it would come in heaving sobs and I resolutely refused to do that here in the corridor in full view of passers-by. Gritting my teeth, eyes widening, I managed to force my lips into a smile I could not feel and said, ‘Oh, don’t worry about me, I’m OK,’ as cheerily as I could muster. The words came out a little croaky, she wasn’t convinced and said, ‘Oh, Faith, don’t cry.’ A tear like quicksilver ran down towards the crease of my nose and tickled as it perched within the nostril, ready to drop. I turned away, brushing away the tear on the back of my hand and said, ‘It’s nothing really,’ and scuttled off as quickly as I could. Obviously I wasn’t coping, it was time to go home. John would understand.

  I arrived home to find that Jeremy had been trying to cope in a different way. He had been rather proactive; he had contacted Patel at the police station and found a solicitor to represent him. Why did he need a solicitor at this stage, though, I thought. He told me he had also phoned the police at Welwyn Garden City, the headquarters of Hertfordshire Constabulary, to try to find out if and when we would be getting our property back as he was desperate for certain discs to continue the business without incurring further costs to us. Patel had firmly told him that she could not speak to him directly but that she or her colleagues would through a solicitor. She had added that I was a very nice lady. This irked me, what was that supposed to mean? That my husband was a paedophile? Then the uplifting vision of her slipping over in the mud came to mind. It made me smile.

  After that call, Jeremy had spent a considerable amount of time that day looking for a solicitor and as a result had found Stephen Bennett at a practice called Blaser Mills. There were several branches of this company but Mr Bennett, being the only partner available to assist, was based in High Wycombe. I thought this rather inconvenient as it was a fair distance from Watford, but then this whole episode was an inconvenience. Jeremy said that he had phoned around quite a few solicitors and he didn’t know if he was being paranoid but when he mentioned what the subject of his arrest was they were either too busy with their caseloads or he felt that they hadn’t believed him when he protested his innocence. They did, however, all say that his case would definitely be going to court – not very inspirational or helpful.

  It was early days. There was no charge, enquiries were continuing, and yet as far as everyone was concerned he was already guilty by association through being arrested in connection with child pornography. Mr Bennett sent a nice letter to confirm that he would represent Jeremy and would he be kind enough to send a retainer of £500? I was peeved that we would have to find yet another chunk of money on top of the cost of the computers we would have to purchase in order to continue the business.

  Operating the shop as best we could, the following week Jeremy received a call from Hopkins who wanted to make an appointment to bring back the editing hard drive and some wedding tapes as they had taken note that they were needed for the business to continue. They did not have the equipment to view the DVCAM tapes and wanted to do that on the premises.

  On the day Patel also accompanied him and Jeremy sat her at the editing desk to show her how to view the tapes while I pulled out files of the couples they related to. I sat at a spare desk to do some admin work as I watched her speed through the tapes, stopping at intervals to have a look at the happy couples beaming back at her, even looking at the blank tape after the films had finished. Jeremy sat with Hopkins showing him the files and trying to find out further information. Again, there was nothing for them to find but a legitimate business. Grudgingly I had to offer them refreshments. Fortunately, they looked like customers sitting with us and they did not give any indication as to who they were when customers came into the shop for Jeremy to deal with.

  After a couple of hours Jeremy signed the receipt listing all the equipment that was being returned. There was so much more missing, however, and without an initial list of what was taken, it really meant nothing in the scheme of things.

  Our solicitor pressed Hopkins for our property list. The Police and Criminal Evidence Act says, ‘If property is retained, the person who had custody or control of it immediately before seizure must, on request, be provided with a list or description of the property within a reasonable time.’ Disappointingly, this was not being considered by the police, who had still not provided us with one by late December.

  Shortly before Christmas I received an email from one of the team who searched the house and shop telling us that we could pick up some more of our belongings. At further inconvenience to us, Jeremy had to close the shop and I had to take a further half day off work. We drove all the way to Hoddesdon to meet with DI Burn to collect whatever the police were prepared to let us have this time. It turned out it was our collection of pre-recorded videos and thankfully our own wedding video, honeymoon video and other pers
onal films. As pleased as we were, Jeremy did complain that, although he was grateful to get these items back, what he was really after were the DVCAM tapes and discs for his website and accounts. Burn, looking through her straggly, parted bleached-blonde hair that made her features look even harder, gave a big sigh and said that as far as she was concerned they had bent over backwards for him in his requests. It would have been nicer if they had bent over backwards and given us our list of belongings so that we could know what they had taken and what they were prepared to give back in stages. It was very frustrating getting our property back only in dribs and drabs. Again we signed the receipt form and took away the videos. Once home we extracted the personal films and put the rest back into storage. It would be years before we could ever look at our wedding video again.

  I left work on Christmas Eve and did not need to return until 2 January, which meant a long holiday. It was a double-edged sword. On the one hand I was grateful for the break. I was so very tired and even though I knew I would still wake up regularly in the early hours, the break meant I could catch up with sleep at any time during the day. On the other, being at work meant I could take my mind off our problems. Now Jeremy and I would be at home together 24/7, driving each other mad trying to make sense of everything, going over events, analysing conversations and reading between the lines.

  Somehow we had managed to get through the holidays, with New Year also being spent quietly with family. The cries of revellers shouting out ‘Happy New Year’ did not apply to us. There was nothing happy about the perpetual uncertainty we were living in.

  During the first week of January 2004, Jeremy received a further call from Hopkins who wanted to return the rest of the DVCAM tapes, but not before viewing them on the shop premises. He confessed that the police did not own the equipment that would enable them to see the tapes and, as budgets were tight, were not able to allocate funds to hire the appropriate recorder. Jeremy explained to Hopkins that viewing all the tapes on our machinery would wear the heads out as there were hundreds of them and these machines were expensive to replace. ‘There are ways and means,’ he replied. Jeremy asked what he meant by that and asked, ‘Do you mean just looking at a few tapes?’, to which Hopkins replied, ‘I didn’t say that but you are reading my mind.’ This concerned us because if this police officer was prepared to bend the rules when it came to examining tapes for evidence, what else would he be prepared to do in order to secure a prosecution?

  A date was agreed and on Saturday 10 January, Jeremy and I went to the shop just before 9 a.m. in order to await the arrival of Hopkins. I was dreading it as I didn’t know how long it would take. The uncertainty of it all was nerve-racking and I began to nibble my nails, a nervous habit that I had seemed to have acquired in the last couple of months. Sometimes the pain of a torn nail into the quick gave me a sense of focus, but I came to loathe myself for it.

  Jeremy seemed to be fairly calm until he started chatting at a rate of knots about nothing in particular. It was strange how our nervous reactions to stress manifested themselves, he with his constant chatter and me with my bitten fingernails. Even when Hopkins finally arrived Jeremy continued chatting like this, talking to him like he was a lifelong friend and I felt a great desire to get hold of his shoulders and tell him to shut up.

  I was not happy to be asked to get Hopkins a cup of coffee but in my head I turned it around and told myself it was to support Jeremy. There was something about Hopkins that made me distrust him; he was far too familiar with Jeremy and I didn’t like that he was addressing him by his first name. I remained quiet while Jeremy set up the editing machine and Hopkins selected twelve tapes at random to view. One that he was particularly interested in had the name ‘Ian Siggery’ on the case, the name of a bridegroom. He asked Jeremy if this person was a police officer and he confirmed that he was, which interested Hopkins even more because apparently he was known as ‘Siggers’ among his colleagues. It was one of the tapes he wished to view but Jeremy said he would prefer it if he would choose another as Ian Siggery’s wife was the daughter of a friend of mine. Hopkins seemed a little annoyed and I think he came close to insisting that he see it but backed down, although I was disheartened that there was now a link back to someone we knew. How long would it be before my friend found out about Jeremy’s arrest and pass this information on to others, especially as we were both members of the local residents’ association? We would have to mention this particular point later to Jeremy’s solicitor.

  Jeremy was still rambling away about all and sundry and was sitting too far away from me for me to give him a big elbow in the ribs. I knew he was nervous and his assisting Hopkins was all about being as helpful as possible in the hope that it would get this dreadful misunderstanding sorted out and finished with quickly so that we could all get on with our lives. However, the constant chatter was not just restricted to Jeremy; Hopkins too was going on about his career and interests. It was all so tedious. I wanted him out of the shop as soon as possible but I had to listen to him drone on about being in the army and then going into the police force. Then we had to endure hearing about his hobbies such as bird watching, how he had noticed the hybrid parrots in the trees at the back of the shop and, most unusual of all, his antique pen collecting hobby. Not a cheap hobby by all accounts as he said he had just bought an expensive pen for his collection and could not tell his wife how much he had spent. Whether it was to intimidate Jeremy into some sort of confession, we were not sure, but Hopkins revealed he was an expert in computers in the fact that he could take one apart and build it again from scratch and that he would be relying on forensics.

  I tried to smile politely but felt it was more a grimace as we sat looking at the large TV screen with the films of various wedding days running through at fast-forward speed. My poor Jeremy, I thought. Even though he seemed to be handling it all quite well, I could tell he was nervous as he was a little breathless, probably because his heart was thundering away in his chest – as was mine. My nerves were in shreds but why should they be? We had nothing to hide and there was nothing to find.

  As the films played through I got up to stretch my legs and wander over to the shop window. All of a sudden a customer came in, I hoped that Hopkins would continue to sit quietly and look as though he were a customer watching a demo tape. Fortunately, he was discreet while Jeremy gave out all the necessary information and they left happy and none the wiser. The clock ticked round to 11.30 a.m. when finally Hopkins stood up and said he was satisfied that he had seen enough. We were relieved as we were under the impression that he was going to be with us a lot longer, but he got Jeremy to sign a returned property sheet, letting him have a copy, and then left promptly through the back door. We both let out a sigh of relief but I knew that we would spend the rest of the day analysing what was said, what it meant, had we said too much?

  Soon after this visit Jeremy had to visit the doctor for treatment of eczema, most probably brought on by the terrible stress he was under.

  Our solicitor was still tirelessly working on Hopkins to get our property list of items seized at the house and shop, reminding him that this was very much overdue. Very often the excuses given were that they were either short-staffed, on holiday or sick.

  Finally, on 21 February, we received the list by second-class post – and there were many pages of it. It was both infuriating and upsetting to see our possessions itemised in this way, but more importantly, we hoped that they were all in safe keeping. Patel had originally said that I would have this list within seven days and here we were, a week short of four months. Getting the list felt like we had had our house burgled all over again, as many of the entries only reminded us that they were missing, some we hadn’t even noticed had disappeared.

  We were copied in on all correspondence from the solicitor and we were pleased to see that Mr Bennett had made the following point in relation to the Siggery matter that Jeremy had been worrying about among everything else:

  Finally, we understand
that in the course of viewing the video material at our client’s premises that the Officer in the case identified another officer known to him. May we remind you on the need to keep your investigations in this matter confidential and to avoid the transmission of any information relating to the same other than that required specifically for the purposes of the investigation to any third party.

  Meanwhile, at work I received an email from Nicola Holder, the exhibits officer, who had been present during the raid and was the compiler of the list. She said that some items had been examined and were ready for return although she did not indicate what these were. To avoid Jeremy having to take more time off from the shop I said that I would meet her at the house. She arrived carrying a small bag of video films, cassettes, photographs that had been developed by the police from a roll of film and some pre-recorded CDs. As I picked about among the items I noticed that a few of the plastic casings were broken and CDs scratched. Noticing my discontentment, Holder weakly apologised and said that I should ask for a form in order to make a claim. It wasn’t about the money to replace the damaged CDs, it was the fact that we had had them for years in safe keeping and in five minutes in their care they were ruined. I worried for the rest of our possessions, especially those that were irreplaceable and had only sentimental value.

  When she left I called Jeremy with the list of what had been returned and told him about the damage. I explained that we could make a claim and he said that we should wait until the end of the investigation in case there was anything else we might need to claim for.