Fit Up

by Faith Clifford

  Also focusing on the intended police action, Jeremy had already made contact with Phil Dodd of the Independent Police Complaints Commission (IPCC) a week before his acquittal, giving a verbal statement of events from beginning to end. We had been advised to do this before taking up legal proceedings against the police because otherwise we would be criticised by the courts for not taking this route initially to see if redress could be gained here. It seemed like a waste of time because we were eager to get the litigation under way, but we complied with the IPCC’s request.

  We had already written a nine-page statement in readiness. Jeremy wrote a covering letter and put this in the post for Mr Dodd just one day after acquittal. It had been a satisfying moment.

  When I arrived home Jeremy shouted from the office, ‘Come up, we’ve got homework to do.’ I felt a pang of despair as, after a day’s work, I just wanted to make the dinner and relax, while he was now firing on all cylinders. It was like being back at school – but the homework would be harder and much more time-consuming. Unfortunately, this was just the beginning, and there would be many more evenings and weekends filled with such homework.

  In the course of our preparations, we had to meet with Duncan. Obviously he had been delighted to hear of the CPS dropping the case on the back of his evidence. He already knew that we were going to sue Hertfordshire Constabulary and, as he had been investigating Operation Ore for a long time, he wanted to meet with us.

  On the first bank holiday weekend in May 2005 we set aside the Sunday for a visit to Brighton where Duncan lived and worked. We were to meet at one of the restaurants in the revamped part of Brighton, near the marina, and as we were not familiar with that part of the country, we set off early just to get there and take a look around. It was one of those uplifting, warm spring mornings and I could not help wistfully thinking that I wished this was an outing for pleasure rather than an information-gathering exercise of Operation Ore evidence. Although I was very keen to get our vengeance, I was daunted by the amount of work that would need to be done in our spare time.

  After a pleasant journey, mostly talking about the police case, we arrived in Brighton and parked up in one of the marina car parks. We were an hour and a half early, which gave us time to have a wander about and see the attractions. After walking for a while along the seafront, stopping off for a coffee and looking at the novelty shops it was getting close to 12.30 p.m. so we made our way to the restaurant to wait for Duncan.

  Despite our meeting arrangements, we soon realised that no one had thought to ask ‘How will we recognise each other?’ Noticing that there was no one seated in the restaurant, we knew that Duncan had definitely not arrived before us. We had a good view of the concourse along the marina and so started people watching. It was now a little after 12.30 p.m. and among the pedestrians we saw a cyclist walk to the railings opposite us and chain up his bike. He was in full bike gear: the tortoise shell-like helmet, trousers fixed with bike clips, obligatory backpack. Although we had both continued to look ahead for whoever might be Duncan, it suddenly occurred to me that the cyclist was him and I pointed him out to Jeremy, who walked casually towards him and asked, ‘Are you Duncan?’ He gave a broad grin and he and Jeremy shook hands. We quickly exchanged pleasantries and then went to sit down and eat. Duncan was tall, slim and greying with glasses. I guessed him to be around his mid-fifties and he just had that ‘IT intelligence’ look.

  Although only a party of three, we asked to be seated at a larger table and ordered some drinks. Duncan pulled some papers out from his backpack and proceeded to tell us that he had been involved in Operation Ore from almost the beginning, back in 2002, and had found many flaws in the evidence. As he was also a journalist, he had an article coming out in PC Pro, a magazine for IT specialists, which would be highlighting these points and the fact the police knew from the start but proceeded to invade people’s homes.

  As we ate I tried to take notes as Jeremy listened. I found it difficult to write anything down, however, as the information Duncan was giving us was hard to follow and I was trying to tie in the revelations with Jeremy’s case rather than get involved in the bigger picture of exposing the Operation Ore scandal. I tried not to worry as I kept writing notes about Keyz, webmasters and so on, and hoped that I could make some sense of it later on. It turned out that what I did write down didn’t make a lot of sense upon re-reading it, but I hoped that some of the papers he would leave with us would be more revealing.

  After a few hours, we said our goodbyes and thanked Duncan for all the help he had given us so far.

  Chapter 16

  ANDRE CLOVIS

  There was a lot going on in May 2005 on all fronts and the postman seemed to always be bringing us correspondence which had to be actioned. While this was fine for Jeremy as he was not working, it was more of a burden to me as my day never finished until late. He was quite happy working on certain aspects on his own but when it came to pulling it together in the form of correspondence, much of which was quite lengthy, he leaned on me for support.

  My work as a facilities manager was demanding and had been more so since my predecessor had retired. Whereas I had been his assistant, I did not have one and the responsibility fell entirely to me. I would often leave the office at around 5.30 p.m. to go home and walk Sasha. Jeremy and I would often do this together, but our conversation never wavered from the same subject. It was as if our life together had been compartmentalised from October 2003 to the present. There was never any reminiscing of the good things that we had shared or even our lives before we had met. Nor was there conversation about the future because, from where we were standing, there wasn’t one. Once we had had goals, exciting plans to look forward to together, and now I felt we were scrabbling desperately among the flotsam and jetsam of what our lives had become.

  After walking Sasha I would cook a quick dinner. Ordinarily I would have liked to sit down, relax and watch television, but the little office beckoned and I would have to try to get back into work mode. Usually around 10 p.m., eyes dry and sore from staring at the PC screen, feeling exhausted, we would call it a day, get a cup of tea and catch up on a little TV before falling into bed. An hour or so of a soap allowed us a moment of escapism from our reality.

  By the middle of May we had received a letter from Andre Clovis of Christian Kahn Solicitors, who specialised in actions against the police. Jeremy was invited to meet with him on 24 May and we felt encouraged that something was happening as a result of all of our efforts.

  The IPCC also responded by acknowledging our letter of complaint and Jeremy was advised to call Roger Howe of the Hertfordshire Constabulary Professional Standards Department. An Inspector Hunt had been assigned to investigate and an appointment was made to meet on Monday 13 June at our home.

  Jeremy also fired off a letter to the National Identification Service to enquire about the information held on him and to make sure that the result of the acquittal was recorded. This was most important, should credit or professional references ever be taken up against him.

  Although we had already sent Andre the necessary documents to introduce and outline Jeremy’s case, we had already built up quite a substantial file of papers providing evidence and these were indexed in a way that would make easy reading of Jeremy’s story. This included transcriptions of the Hopkins conversation, now called the ‘ways and means’ CD, which referred to the phrase that Hopkins had used to Jeremy when making an appointment to come and view the tapes at the shop, plus the two phone calls made by Gerard.

  Spilling out of the train at Euston we made our way to the main road to get a taxi to Museum Street in Bloomsbury. We were early but wanted to gather ourselves in a nearby café before turning up promptly at 10 a.m. for our meeting at Andre’s offices.

  While we passed away some time over a cup of coffee, I felt a change in both of us. There was an air of optimism and relief surrounding us, brought on, I was sure, by the fact that someone was at last willing to look more closely at o
ur case. To us it was as plain as day that there had been wrongdoing by Hopkins, but now we had a solicitor who was interested in representing our claim against Hertfordshire Constabulary.

  At just before 10 a.m. we presented ourselves in the reception of Christian Khan and were asked to take a seat where we waited in anticipation to be called through. I started to wonder what Andre would be like. With his name I was assuming he was going to be French and so when he finally arrived to meet us I was taken by surprise.

  Andre was black, smartly dressed and charming. He had an infectious, megawatt smile, warm brown eyes and a deep voice I found reassuringly comforting.

  He asked us to follow him to his office and apologised that it was a bit of a climb. Breathing in the masculine aroma of his aftershave, we followed Andre in what looked like a rabbit warren built of legal files and books on each landing.

  We were ushered into a cramped office, also surrounded by files and books, and offered a seat. Andre sat at his desk as Jeremy was invited to talk through his case from the start, while I interjected with pertinent comments. When we reached the part of the story that concerned Gerard we offered Andre the relevant audio CDs, which he inserted into his PC and proceeded to listen. He made himself comfortable, leaning back in his chair as the conversation between Gerard and Julie got under way. As soon as I heard Gerard’s puny voice on the recording it reignited the flame of rage that I had since buried under my own self-pity. It was an emotion that scared me as it sometimes led me to daydream about my favourite way of bumping off Gerard and getting away with it.

  As the CD played, Andre looked thoughtfully up towards the ceiling, as if thinking, ‘Where is this going?’ and I glanced over to Jeremy who was also fixated upon him. Then came the part where Gerard manoeuvres the conversation with Julie to talk about the criminal case.

  ‘Do you mind if I bring up another topic, it might freak you out but I’m going to mention it,’ Gerard says, then, ‘Is this true that this is actually a one-man operation and he is not there because he is in court as a paedophile?’ This was the part that always cut through my heart and I looked up at Andre to see what his reaction to it was. Instead of a look of revulsion, his eyes registered shock at what he had heard. He suddenly sat bolt upright and alert. This had made a big impact on him, we later found out, because this was evidence of a police witness blabbing to a member of the public. I looked over at Jeremy who was leaning on one arm of the chair, a look of hatred on his face. At the end of the CD Andre looked at us both sympathetically and I am sure he could see how damaged we were by it.

  We had presented ourselves well so it was disappointing when Andre said that he was interested but had an overwhelming caseload at that time and could not, at that stage, give an estimate of when he would be able to offer his services. As we started to gather our belongings Andre obviously sensed that the news had come as a bit of a blow.

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘you look like you are intelligent people. You could actually start proceedings yourselves.’ He advised us to get two books, the first an up-to-date copy of The Civil Court Practice, known commonly as the Green Book. This would be a single point of reference for litigation as it provides everything necessary for bringing, defending and appealing civil proceedings. It had all the relevant rules, practice, direction and guides for easy reference, plus providing templates to create documents for court. The second book was Police Misconduct, which would also be helpful.

  The Green Book would help us construct a Letter of Claim, Andre told us, which we should send to Hertfordshire Constabulary and see how they respond. Andre added that, because we were litigants in person, they might let their guard down. To encourage us further, and without naming names, he told us of a case where someone was a litigant in person against a police force, that he represented himself in court and won his compensation. ‘I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but there is no harm in giving it a go yourselves. And let me know how you get on.’

  We left the Christian Khan offices feeling encouraged and confident in the belief that there might be a way for us to do this ourselves.

  Chapter 17

  AN INSPECTOR CALLS

  On the morning of 13 June 2005, Jeremy and I busied ourselves and tidied up in preparation for our house guest. Staring out of our front room window, we waited anxiously for Inspector Hunt to arrive. Despite these feelings of anticipation, we felt that this meeting was just about going through the formalities because we had to and, for us, it really was a waste of time. However, we knew that this was just another step that we had to take to further our civil action and to avoid any future criticism from the courts for not looking for redress via this route.

  In the initial response from the IPCC to our complaint they had informed us that they were completely independent of the police service and responsible for ensuring that the police complaints system in England and Wales works effectively and fairly. It went on to further explain that each police force is responsible for considering and recording any complaints made against it. However, if we were unhappy with the police force’s decision regarding our complaint, then we had the right to appeal to the IPCC. The final paragraph stated that the matter had been referred to the Professional Standards Department (PSD) of Hertfordshire Constabulary for consideration.

  We had thought that the whole idea of having an IPCC investigation was to have just that, an ‘independent’ investigation, but by being referred to the PSD it was going to be police investigating police. How was that going to be unbiased? we wondered.

  Inspector Hunt had been assigned by the PSD to investigate Jeremy’s case on the basis of four complaints made by us:

  Oppressive conduct or harassment. The complainant alleged that the officer unnecessarily, aggressively and maliciously pursued an investigation into his alleged downloading of pornographic material.

  Mishandling of property. The complainant further alleged that the officer allowed the complainant’s property to be damaged and retained for an excessive amount of time.

  Other irregularity in procedure. The complainant alleged that the evidence was poorly prepared and prolonged the investigation of the case.

  Other. The complainant also alleged that the officer allowed witnesses to talk about the case to other people as a result of which his business was damaged.

  Finally, a car parked up outside our house. Thankfully, there was no Hertfordshire Constabulary insignia on display and I breathed a sigh of relief. I couldn’t bear the neighbouring curtain-twitchers getting any more excitement at our expense.

  Two men got out, looked up at the house and approached the front door. Jeremy opened the door and Inspector Hunt introduced himself and his colleague. I had been waiting in the dining room so that we could sit at a table and I could get refreshments.

  Inspector Hunt and his colleague introduced themselves to me as I ushered them to sit down. Jeremy sat down with his notepad while I set about getting the teas and coffees before joining them.

  Inspector Hunt opened the meeting by apologising for the fact that Jeremy had felt it necessary to make a complaint against the police. He said that they take such matters very seriously and that Jeremy’s case was already being investigated. He said that he had read Jeremy’s statement but wanted to hear about what happened from 30 October onwards in his own words.

  Jeremy started to recount the events. He had it off pat now as he had lost count of how many times he had had to go through this story. I also knew it by heart but it was never easy to hear and each time it was repeated I’d relive the moments with him. Inspector Hunt was making notes, occasionally looking up at Jeremy when he paused, while the other officer sat with his hands folded on the table, looking on in silence. He looked totally unmoved and all through Jeremy’s testimony he never said a word. I got the feeling that these two were also here to go through the formalities, tick their boxes and be off. I thought that Inspector Hunt had felt some sympathy towards us, but not his colleague.

  As the meeti
ng was coming to a close Inspector Hunt told us that we had two choices about how the PSD would deal with our complaint. One option would be for them to instruct a fuller, detailed inquiry and interview everyone associated with the case, which could take up to two years or more. While this form of investigation was under way we would not be able to pursue our civil claim against Hertfordshire Constabulary until after it was concluded. The second option would be to have our complaint locally resolved, which would mean that our concerns would be brought to the attention of Hopkins and the report put on his file. It was tempting to start the ball rolling and give Hopkins the punishment he so deserved by going for the fuller investigation but we could not possibly wait up to two years for a result. We also didn’t want to hold up our pursuit of justice regarding Gerard and the libel and slander case so we chose to have a local resolution. In the meantime, Hopkins would think that he had got off lightly and that Jeremy and I had gone away.

  How wrong he would be.

  Chapter 18

  ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER ARREST

  21 June was going to be a hot day. The sky was a brilliant unbroken blue and the early morning already warm. I was relieved to get to work to enjoy the coolness of the air conditioning and to get some paperwork done while I felt alert enough. My evenings were full of late, helping Jeremy with the preparation of our two litigations and the immense amount of reading and studying made me feel very weary by the afternoon. Although I would fall into bed exhausted, sure that I would not wake until morning, my sleep pattern was totally erratic. There was no rest in my dreams either, where I was always opening the front door to the boys and girls in blue who invaded the house while I chased after them and tried to stop them taking my belongings. Then I would wake, partly to relief that it was just a dream but then the rage would seep in and keep me awake before my burning eyes would close for a couple of hours more.