Saving Gary McKinnon (10 page)

Radio and TV stations were ringing up for interview after interview, one of which was with Richard and Judy.

I remember feeling a bit nervous when I walked into the studio, as I wasn’t sure what to expect. Michael Jackson’s sister La Toya was on the programme and Richard and Judy asked her if she felt that President Obama would be a better president. La Toya said she absolutely believed that he would be.

I added, ‘Apparently he’s also appointed somebody who’s going to reveal the truth about UFOs.’ La Toya looked at me and smiled and went on to discuss her brother, whose music and dancing I loved.

I spoke about Gary and said that now that President Obama was in power I had hope that Gary would remain in the UK.

Judy, referring to Gary, then said: ‘Like a lot of people, and goodness knows we’ve heard a lot of them, he did believe that September 11 was a conspiracy and he foolishly put that message—’ and Richard interjected, ‘on the very place that was actually “bombed”.’

This made me smile to myself as I wondered if Richard even realised that he had just said the word ‘bombed’ when referring to the Pentagon. I wondered if he also believed some of the
conspiracy theories that Gary believed in, that were circulating on the internet.

On 26 February the Crown Prosecution Service announced that it would not bring charges against Gary in Britain. This meant that the US extradition request would remain live and Gary’s life was under imminent threat.

It was as though all of the help that had suddenly appeared out of the blue was a mirage that had tricked us into believing that hope was tangible, but our oasis of safety had faded and we were left stranded again.

It was the weekend and on Sunday 1 March I was wide awake at 6 a.m. I opened and closed the doors of the kitchen cupboards searching for the honey I was sure we had. Then I found it, hiding in the corner, but the jar was almost empty. I realised that the cupboards were bare as I’d forgotten to buy almost all of the things we needed. But there was just enough honey for two slices of toast.

I love honey and I like bees and worry about how they’re dying off here. I’m sure pesticides must be at the heart of it and it can’t help that everyone is obsessed with weeding out the wild flowers that the bees thrive on.

I sat drinking tea and watching the birds through the patio doors, thinking how absolutely free they looked. It must be the most amazing feeling to fly through the sky and feel the sun on your back, to soar above the clouds and be able to fly thousands of miles away to a warmer climate.

No waiting in queues to be searched or manhandled or strapped in a chair on a metal machine that is sprayed with disinfectants that can make you ill.

To build a flying machine is truly amazing, but to fly like a bird, that must be something!

I switched on the computer and looked at the newspapers
online before starting to write to MPs and to anyone I thought might help us, and there on the screen was an article in the
Mail on Sunday
with Sting and Trudie Styler saying they had written to Jacqui Smith to plead for Gary.

I couldn’t believe it; we so needed this. I read it again. The rollercoaster of emotions leaves you feeling dizzy. I think fate plays some cruel games for its own amusement, but I thought, surely fate has to be on our side, because every time we think we’re at the end something new comes up.

My friend Josie rang me and started shouting down the phone excitedly, ‘Sting and Trudie are in the
Mail on Sunday
talking about Gary!’

‘I know! I’m just going to buy the paper.’

I grabbed my jacket and ran down to the paper shop. I’ve never been star-struck but have always had huge respect for people who use their position or celebrity status to help others. I was so grateful to Trudie and Sting for doing this for my son, and for highlighting the horrendous one-sided extradition treaty. I knew that this could really help us. We hugged and hoped and I was so happy that I put the Stereophonics on and turned the music up loud and danced around the room, singing ‘Dakota’ at the top of my voice. There was a good feeling in the air that was unmistakeable, and anything seemed possible.

On 16 March 2009, human rights campaigner and former Middle East hostage Terry Waite publicly called on the US to drop their charges against Gary. This wonderful man who had been held hostage, and endured the mental trauma that comes with that, cared enough about what was happening to Gary to come out to plead for his freedom from the terror of extradition. We were overwhelmed by his support and grateful to Melanie Riley for highlighting Gary’s case when discussing the extradition treaty.

Legally the US has to prove someone is a fugitive before extradition can happen, but our courts ignore this. Gary did not meet the definition of ‘fugitive’ and when the judges spoke about ‘returning’ Gary to America, Gary said: ‘How can they return me to a place I’ve never been?’

In April, another fighter for justice, legendary Oscar-winning actress Julie Christie, wrote to Home Secretary Jacqui Smith:

I felt a force of good was gathering pace and driving the fight, not only for Gary, but for the hard-won rights that British people had died to attain, that had been so brutally stripped
from us by our own government, leaving us all at the mercy of foreign powers.

On January 2009 we won permission in the High Court to seek a judicial review of Jacqui Smith’s decision to uphold her original decision to extradite despite the new medical evidence and Asperger’s diagnosis.

Alan Johnson became Home Secretary on 5 June. On 9 June 2009 Gary’s QC, Edward Fitzgerald, and barrister, Ben Cooper, put in submissions, including that Ms Smith ‘under-estimated the gravity of the situation’.

It was on 3 July that a definitive game changer occurred. Karen told us that the
Daily Mail
was taking up Gary’s case as their new campaign and that this was the best chance we had – it would propel Gary’s case to the forefront of the news and the
Daily Mail
tended to win their campaigns.

I was over the moon. This was the very newspaper that ran hugely successful campaigns in support of the Gurkhas and to bring the murderers of Stephen Lawrence to justice. Now, how good was that? Paul Dacre, the editor of the
Daily Mail
, had decided that Gary’s case would be an honourable issue to devote a campaign to and arranged for his team to come to our house and spend time getting to know us.

Everyone said, ‘Oh, the
Daily Mail
will tie you up so tight that you won’t be able to move. They’ll demand exclusivity and won’t allow you to speak to any other newspapers.’ As it turned out, nothing could have been further from the truth. There were no conditions or restrictions put on us by the
Mail
, and the other newspapers continued to support Gary.

This was the first time we met Michael Seamark, a tall, slim, immaculately dressed man who was to oversee the
Daily Mail’
s campaign. Michael was intelligent, warm and easy to talk to and we liked him immediately.

Journalist Allison Pearson came to our house that day too. Allison is blonde, attractive and sharp-witted, with excellent observational skills. She wrote the first feature on our family for the
Daily Mail
. Allison is a very natural writer and everything she writes just flows. The result of her interview was an excellent two-page spread with detail and humanity and an in-depth explanation of Gary’s plight – and of what the prolonged threat of extradition was doing to our family.

The attention-grabbing headlines and ongoing dramatic stories by Michael Seamark and James Slack were first class and really hit the mark.

All of this led to more TV interviews, which not only raised the profile of Gary’s case but, much to the delight of the National Autistic Society, also raised the profile of Asperger’s syndrome and helped to educate people about autistic spectrum disorders.

I
t was 4 July 2009, American Independence Day, and I had arranged to hand a petition, and a letter signed by prominent people, into 10 Downing Street. Trudie Styler had arranged to come along to help us to highlight Gary’s case.

I was just deciding on my most conventional clothes, a black jacket and trousers, when the phone rang. ‘Is that Janis Sharp?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you know that you’re coming in to have tea with Sarah Brown, the Prime Minister’s wife, today?’

‘No. I knew I was coming in with a letter and a petition but I didn’t know I was having tea with Sarah Brown.’

‘You are indeed and Sarah is looking forward to meeting you.’

When I came off the phone and told Wilson who it was, all I kept saying was, ‘How did they get our telephone number?’

‘It’s the government, Janis; they can get anyone’s number in the blink of an eye.’

I wasn’t fazed that I was going to 10 Downing Street – but I was grateful to Sarah Brown for her compassion, which gave me hope. I’ve never felt humbled by hierarchy but have always been impressed by the extent of someone’s humanity and their courage to stand up for justice. Respect is something that has to
be earned and where you are on the ladder of wealth, fame or position doesn’t come into it. It’s a spiritual thing – not religious, but spiritual.

Among other things, I respect Trudie Styler and Sting for fighting to protect the rainforest; David Gilmour and Polly Samson for their commitment to building homes for the homeless; Julie Christie and Duncan Campbell for using their voices and eloquence to stand up against injustice; and Melanie Riley, Karl Watkin, Trudie Styler, Michael Darwyne, David Bermingham and Gary Mulgrew for their fight against injustice and determination to change the 2003 extradition treaty.

When Wilson was driving me into Downing Street to have tea with Sarah Brown and Trudie, we initially we made good time but once we got near Fleet Street the traffic ground to a virtual halt. I was feeling a bit nervous as I was running late and we eventually reached No. 10 with one minute to spare. By the time I got out of the car and ran across the road everyone was waiting and they were all panicking and rushing me through the gate while the photographers were taking photos.

I’m a last-minute kind of person, but I usually get there in the nick of time.

Trudie looked elegant and glamorous, dressed in white. We went in the front door of No. 10. The policemen inside take your mobile phone and any camera if you have one and your belongings are kept safe in little lockers in the wall of the large foyer.

We walked up the elegant staircase of the Prime Minister’s residence, which is the same staircase that Hugh Grant danced down when he played the part of the British Prime Minister who stood up to the American President in the film
Love Actually
. I hoped that our PM was about to do the same for Gary. For a moment I imagined Gordon Brown dancing down
the stairs and through the rooms of No. 10 just as Hugh Grant had done, and it made me smile.

We walked into a large light and airy living room and it occurred to me then that it must seem odd living here – like living in the office. Gordon Brown would effectively be on call all the time and I imagined that Sarah Brown and the children would find it difficult to get much privacy.

I was really looking forward to having tea, as it helps me to relax. The newspapers were keen to know what was going to be said and what I would be given to eat but the only thing that mattered to me was what No. 10 had in mind to help Gary. I hoped this meeting could somehow lead to Gary being tried here in the UK and I was sure they had something up their sleeve.

Sarah Brown was standing in the living room and looked more elegant and attractive in reality than in her photos, which don’t always do her justice. She was slimmer than I expected and has pale porcelain skin and hair that is a lovely shade of auburn. She walked forward to greet me and her eyes reflected an honesty and compassion that put me at my ease.

I sat upright on the edge of the large sofa and Trudie sat next to me. She and Sarah Brown seemed to know each other quite well.

Several advisers walked in to join us. I was hoping and praying that they had secretly come up with some grand plan to sort everything out for Gary.

I poured out my thoughts and ideas and related other cases where British computer hackers had been accused of considerably more serious crimes against the US than anything Gary had done, yet they had been tried in the UK and at worst received a very mild sentence.

I also pointed out that Gary was accused of accessing the
computers prior to and during 2002 – before the extradition treaty was even written, years before it began to be used by the UK,
and that it wasn’t allowed to be made retrospective.

The advisers were making notes as I was speaking.

Sarah said, ‘Do you realise you’re up against some very formidable people?’

‘Yes, I do,’ I replied. I was, in fact, all too well aware of this.

I also knew that an adviser existed who was nicknamed the ‘smiling assassin’ by politicians.

I went on to speak about Gary having Asperger’s and being suicidal, and about him preferring death to forcibly being taken from everyone and everything he had ever known.

‘Gary can’t go there and that’s all there is to it,’ said Trudie assertively.

Trudie is no shrinking violet. She is elegant, articulate, intelligent and compassionate, and went on to speak up for Gary at length.

‘Contact the American ambassador to try and get his help,’ said Sarah.

Glancing at Trudie with eyes full she added, ‘It’s very difficult.’

We said goodbye and Trudie and I walked out into the sunshine. I had been feeling optimistic but was worried about Sarah’s suggestion that we should contact the American ambassador: surely 10 Downing Street was in a significantly better position to do that than I was?

The photographers were waiting outside and were all shouting, ‘What did she say, Janis?’ ‘Did it go well?’ ‘What did you get to eat, Janis? Strawberries? Cream scones?’

I was evasive and just smiled.

I later privately told Michael Seamark from the
Mail
that I felt the meeting had gone well and as far as tea was concerned, we hadn’t been given any. There was only water.

‘Water! Well, I can’t write that,’ said Michael, and we both laughed.

Wilson and I drove home, happy in the knowledge that both influential and powerful people cared enough about Gary to meet with us and to hopefully find a solution. I also thought that it being Independence Day could mean that the UK government might be about to prove that the UK was truly independent from the US.

Just two days after my visit to Downing Street, Lord Carlile, the Home Office adviser on terror laws, stated in the newspapers, ‘Extraditing Mr McKinnon would be cruel and unconscionable when he could be prosecuted in the UK.’

I was truly heartened by his words. That he would say this publicly I thought was politically very brave. I had never met him but he seemed to genuinely care about what was happening to Gary. I later learned that Lord Carlile apparently has a grandson who is autistic.

We had a court hearing for a judicial review against both Jacqui Smith and the Crown Prosecution Service on 14 July 2009. Gary’s lawyers were making a bid at the High Court to try to legally force the CPS into allowing a trial in the UK, challenging a refusal by the Director of Public Prosecutions to sanction a trial in this country.

We were back in the Royal Courts of Justice. I had been here too many times to expect justice in a US extradition case, but hoped for it nevertheless.

This seemed to be Gary’s last chance. Would he ever be free? Or was he doomed to carry on living in this twilight world, this surreal limbo he had been confined to for the last seven years?

We walked through the vast space of the great hall, which, although cathedral-like, held none of the hope of sanctuary that could once be found in such places. We approached what should be an impressive flight of stairs but it was a cold unfeeling place. Somehow, in extradition cases, you can’t help but feel that the decision has already been made and that the job of the judges is to find a plausible justification for it.

The court where Gary’s case was being heard was further up a smaller flight of stairs which brings you out among a collection of glass-cased costumes and hanging wigs, none of which do anything to raise your spirits. But perhaps that’s the idea, like the hard uncomfortable benches – nothing is designed to make you feel at ease.

There is a wide passage with arched stone recesses that each have an oak table and bench where barristers and clients congregate to discuss their cases.

Watching over this area sits a large bust of a judge made entirely out of metal hangers, with the hooks pointed outward like a halo around the figure.

The ominous use of hangers, ‘things that hang’, to make this judge’s image, also did nothing to raise my spirits. I thought he must be the infamous ‘hanging judge’ but I was wrong. Ben Cooper, Gary’s barrister, told me that the figure was that of a good man.

The case that day was a judicial review into the decision of the previous Home Secretary, Jacqui Smith: in particular that she did not take proper account of the impact that extradition, a pre-trial detention of indeterminate length and a prospective sixty-year sentence would have on his mental health.

The day’s hearing also included an additional judicial review into the decision of the Crown Prosecution Service not to proceed with a UK trial. For the first time we had been
presented with an internal CPS report on the original evidence the American prosecutors had offered to justify their request for extradition.

Prima facie evidence had been required in 2002 before the extradition treaty had been signed, but the CPS confirmed that no evidence to back up the US allegations had ever been presented to them. The report, written by a CPS lawyer, dismissed the US submissions to them as hearsay and inadmissible. The report also questioned the lack of detail, and questioned whether proper procedures relating to the standard of evidence had been followed. It was a damning report on the quality of the American submissions by the very Crown Prosecution Service who acts on behalf of the American prosecutor in extradition cases.

We were presented with that report only days before this hearing, normally far too late to have a defence expert go over the details. Fortunately, I had heard of Professor Peter Sommer of the London School of Economics, one of the leading forensic computer experts in the world. I managed to get his contact details the night before the court case, and Gary’s solicitor Karen formally instructed him.

Professor Peter Sommer literally sat up all night to produce a detailed analysis of the CPS report – and his own disparaging report on the lack of normal security measures in place on the computers which Gary had allegedly accessed.

He stated that the financial damage claimed by the US appeared to be for basic security that should have been installed in the first place but wasn’t. Had it been installed, it would have flagged up Gary’s presence.

Professor Sommer had dealt with the CPS on other occasions and knew the police officers involved. He could not understand why they had not quizzed the US about the lack of evidence
provided and why Association of Police Chief Officers (ACPO) evidence standards appeared not to have been followed.

Gary was at home hiding from the world, not being able to face being back in court. But Edward Fitzgerald needed Gary there to explain to him the intricate technicalities of exactly what he had done. Edward is renowned for his ability to deliver complex arguments in a skilled manner.

I rang Gary, and Lucy answered. Gary was upset and wouldn’t come to court; he was scared witless. Karen said he had to come – Edward needed him to be there. Eventually I managed to persuade Gary that there was no choice. Lucy accompanied him but he was clearly terrified, and even walking through the gauntlet of press was a huge ordeal for him.

Gary sat in court with Edward to try to explain exactly what he had done, but it had been so long that he could barely remember, so started to try to think what he might have done and how he might have done it. I mean, more than seven years had passed!

Ironically we were there in court to try to prove that Gary was guilty of computer misuse, as this could have allowed him to be tried in the UK.

Gary had admitted from the very start, in March 2002, to a summary section 1 computer misuse offence, but even a summary section 2 or section 3 computer misuse offence, deemed more serious, carried only a sentence of six months when Gary was first arrested in 2002.

The court rose as Lord Justice Sir Stanley Burnton and Justice Wilkie took their places on their dais in the no. 1 court, looking down over the massed media presence. Many young journalists having to sit on the floor made the court look more akin to a student ‘sit-in’ at a university.

The benches were filled with our barristers and solicitors,
the Home Office’s barristers and solicitors and the Crown Prosecution Service’s barristers and solicitors, each with a large pile of legal folders, and with friends and interested parties.

The judges appeared to be enjoying the ramifications of Gary’s case and seemed amused that someone was applying to the court to be allowed to be prosecuted rather than the usual fight against it.

Throughout the hearing, the noises the judges made were promising. In spite of previous disappointments, you never fail to hope.

During the discourse, when they referred to the House of Lords attempting to justify the disparity of sentencing by suggesting that hypothetically an offence against the Maritime and Aviation Act could have been a possibility and could have led to a life sentence, Justice Burnton said ‘and pigs might fly’, and so did my hopes.

My heart was soaring with the possibility that we had found a fair judge and a brave judge, whose mind was not already made up beforehand.