Saving Gary McKinnon (11 page)

After hearing of several other hacking cases which had occurred at the same time or prior to Gary’s – all of which were tried in the UK and all of which resulted in acquittal or a small fine or a low sentence – the judge agreed with Gary’s QC that most of those cases were deemed much more serious than Gary’s.

When Justice Stanley Burnton read the CPS report and when the CPS admitted that they had been given no evidence by the US, just hearsay, Justice Burnton said, ‘Do you know how embarrassing this would be for the CPS if Mr McKinnon was ever to be tried in the UK?’

The barrister for the CPS responded, ‘Yes, M’Lord.’

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Was
this
why the CPS was refusing to prosecute Gary? Fear of embarrassment?

Gary’s QC, Edward Fitzgerald, fought hard for Gary to be
tried here. Watching him was a revelation. Edward’s style had no abrasiveness or attempts to dominate. He didn’t raise his voice for dramatic effect, or try to act as though he was in a Shakespearian play. There was no arrogance in the man, just a genuine sharpness of mind and a quest for justice.

Edward approached the judges at close quarters and looked into their eyes as he implored them to see sense. No ivory tower would allow the judges to hide, or escape from the honesty of Edward’s heart and mind, as he spoke to them in such an intimately persuasive manner that all present felt as though they were privy to a private conversation.

Lord Justice Burnton eventually turned to Edward and, referring to the absence of evidence, said: ‘In that case he can go on a plane and he’ll come straight back again.’

‘But that’s not what would happen,’ said Edward. ‘That’s not how it works in America.’

Simon Baron-Cohen had also written a strong report on the effect extradition would have on Gary which concluded:

Justice Burnton described the professor’s words as ‘going beyond his remit’.

Every British judge seems to choose to ignore the fact that America often inflicts what we regard as outrageously disproportionate sentences for crimes that would carry a significantly lighter sentence here, if sentence there was.

Edward Fitzgerald referred to one such case, where a young British woman named Chantal McCorkle, married to an American and living in America, ran a business with her husband telling people about buying repossessed property, refurbishing it and selling it on for profit. They promoted it with a video saying ‘you too can have a lifestyle like this’, and a TV ad that showed luxury houses, cars etc. that they supposedly had, but didn’t, as it was just an advert.

When someone officially complained that they didn’t make money, Chantal and her husband were charged and found guilty of ‘infomercial fraud’, apparently because they used actors and didn’t actually own the houses featured in the commercials.

The American court sentenced Chantal to twenty-four years in prison. She was put in leg irons in a secure American prison, because, being British, she was considered a flight risk. Her husband, being American, served his sentence in an open prison.

After ten years in prison Chantal, known as ‘goody two-shoes’ to all her friends, asked to serve the remainder of her sentence in the UK and was told no, that her crimes were too serious!

Edward Fitzgerald had visited Chantal in America and shortly after he raised her case during Gary’s hearing, she reapplied and was repatriated back to the UK, where she served a short time in prison and was then given parole. She is now safely back with her family. But all that time in prison may have deprived her of the chance of motherhood, a heavy price to pay for a non-violent crime.

Lucy was also approaching the age of forty: her biological clock was ticking and Gary would never agree to be an absent father. I am still hoping that they too haven’t been deprived of the chance to have children.

When the hearing ended Trudie Styler stood at Gary’s side on the steps of the court. Hundreds of flashbulbs went off as Gary clenched his teeth, waiting for it to be over.

O
n 15 July 2009, I was invited to do an interview for BBC’s
Newsnight
. I was pleased as it was a serious news programme with credibility. Jeremy Paxman popped his head into the room I was waiting in beforehand and said, ‘I hope you won’t be so nervous that you won’t be able to speak.’

‘Of course I’ll be able to speak.’

‘Well, that wasn’t the case with Vivienne Westwood when I interviewed her. After a very long silence on a live show, she asked if we could start again.’

‘Well, I’m not a fashion icon,’ I smiled.

The producer then spoke to me at length to gauge that I was capable of fighting Gary’s corner. She then spoke to the other guest who was being interviewed alongside me – an ex-CPS prosecutor. The producer stressed that he was to remember to say all the things that he had said he would say and not to hold back.

We then went on air alongside Jeremy Paxman.

The ex-CPS prosecutor made an experienced and pretty ruthless opponent and stated several times that Gary should be extradited. I was confident I could deal with all his points as by that time I knew the extradition treaty and the treatment of other accused hackers inside out.

Jeremy Paxman intervened to argue on my behalf much of the time but I felt frustrated as I believed that I could have held my own in this instance – but maybe everyone thinks that. My opponent was making disingenuous remarks, and Gary’s life was at stake. I was in fight mode.

In the green room afterwards I had a heated debate with the ex-CPS prosecutor and told him that extradition without evidence that could be contested in a British court was wrong and that the US does not extradite Americans for crimes committed while they were physically on US soil. Jeremy Paxman was standing leaning against the door watching us with his arms folded during the off-air debate and eventually said, ‘I almost feel sorry for this man.’

I have to say, I thought Jeremy’s sympathies were a tad misplaced, as I was a mother whose son’s life was on the line, and the prosecutor was a man who argued in court for a living.

The prosecutor looked embarrassed and, I thought, possibly even ashamed after I debated with him. I think that I might have made him realise not only the personal cost to people fighting extradition, but the cost to their families too. I also think and hope that I made him realise the unfairness of this one-sided extradition treaty we had with the US.

When I got home all the Free Gary supporters on Twitter were tweeting their anger at the ex-prosecutor and telling me ‘Well done’.

The next morning it was back to racking my brains trying to think of what else I could do. I had written many times over to every MP in all three main parties and to the Prime Minister and to Barack Obama. I needed to do something else to raise the profile of Gary’s case even further.

I began to stay up writing to politicians until 2 a.m. and would
go to bed and then wake up at 5 a.m. with my mind racing and thinking of what else I could do. I researched other cases where extradition had been refused and studied extradition law.

I’ve always believed that knowledge is power and I hoped that the pen really was mightier than the sword.

When I went over to see Gary, he looked stiff and withdrawn. His teeth were clenched, his hands were held in fists and he was in robotic mode. I could see the absolute tightness of his mind and body. He wouldn’t answer the phone and was angry that anyone was ringing him. He didn’t want to speak or to see anyone and although I could usually bring Gary round to a point, he was slipping further and further away. He once told me that when he was very stressed, he felt physically tiny and everything and everyone around him was far away until he actually became like a dot in the room.

I put my arms around him but his body stiffened. I was trying to bring him round and to keep him here but he was trying to stay inside himself, in a place where no one could reach him. He was rigid and the veins in his neck were straining. I could see his eyes were full. I didn’t know if he was about to lose control or to collapse in a heap on the floor but I had no intention of leaving him, that was for sure.

Gary was fading before our eyes and the terror that he might take his own life was ever-present. We were living on a knife-edge with no respite.

I couldn’t relax as I had to stay on top of everything. I was playing chess with the grand masters, people in power who’d had years to learn what I was trying to learn in record time, but come hell or high water I was going to do it. There was no choice.

There were times I’d lie in bed feeling helpless but then suddenly I would feel this power surging inside me and I felt strong and knew I could do it.

I knew I had to make it bigger than just me.

We’re musicians, and if I could get famous musicians to help us they could get the attention of the most powerful people in the world. Musicians are known for fighting for just causes.

An old friend, John Davies, was a neighbour of David Gilmour of Pink Floyd and also knew him socially so I contacted John and he agreed to pass on a letter to David.

Then, out of the blue, I suddenly remembered that when we’d met our old friend Joe Winnington years ago in Muswell Hill, Joe had said, ‘Guess what? My sister Polly has just got married to David Gilmour.’

‘Wow!’ we said. ‘How amazing.’

Wilson and I had married in Wood Green with the music of Pink Floyd’s
Dark Side of the Moon
playing during the ceremony. I had also read that David Cameron’s favourite album was
Dark Side of the Moon
, so this was all sounding promising and everyone knows that David Gilmour is a really good man.

This was almost too good to be true, plus Joe had known Gary since he was six years old! This had to be another stroke of destiny.

I sat down and wrote a letter to David Gilmour explaining Gary’s situation, and I wrote to Joe, who we hadn’t seen in years. Joe rang us as soon as he got my letter, telling me they had been following the case but that he had no idea that it was the same Gary he had known as a child as he hadn’t seen us for years.

I decided that if we could get a song to President Obama from people in David Gilmour’s league that the President would at least be made aware of Gary’s plight – and then, surely, he would help us.

Graham Nash gave me permission to slightly change the lyrics of his song ‘Chicago (We Can Change the World)’. This was a famous song about injustice and the Chicago Eight. As Obama cut his teeth in Chicago it would be perfect.

When Crosby, Stills & Nash were later playing the song ‘Chicago’ at Glastonbury, Graham Nash got a rapturous response from the audience when he spoke about and championed Gary during their set. He also did interviews in support of Gary and said:

Our friend James Litherland, a great musician who’s played with the best, added his acoustic guitar and vocals to a backing track that Wilson had recorded, and Jim also arranged for gospel singers he knows to add their vocals to the track.

On 23 July 2009 we emailed the backing track of ‘Chicago’ to David Gilmour, who was in the midst of leaving to go on holiday with his family. Unbelievably, David took the time to add his vocal then and there. I can never repay him for that.

I decided to write to Bob Geldof and to follow up my letter with phone calls to his office asking him to add his vocals to the track. It was so hard for me to do this as I avoid the phone
whenever possible – for some reason, whenever it rings it makes me jump. It was also incredibly hard to get any response from Bob Geldof ’s office, but I hassled them continuously and eventually he obliged, adding so much to the track.

Chrissie Hynde of the Pretenders also came on board, which was amazing. Being American it was courageous of Chrissie to do this for Gary, and huge respect to her for that.

Sir Paul McCartney also agreed to add his voice, as did Dennis Locorriere (ex-Doctor Hook), and Skin from Skunk Anansie. However, by then the boat that David Gilmour’s Astoria Studio was on needed its hull rebuilt, unfortunately preventing further recording from taking place.

The Orb also did an excellent version of the song which is featured on their
Metallic Spheres
album, which David Gilmour plays guitar on. David and The Orb’s Alex Paterson donated royalties from it to help fund all aspects of Gary’s campaign and for his psychiatric treatment (e.g. to the Maudsley NHS Trust and also for his current ongoing therapy with Professor van Deurzen).

We also arranged for part of the royalties from the song to go to human rights organisations such as Liberty, and autism charities such as the National Autistic Society, ART and Research Autism.

We can never repay David Gilmour and Alex Paterson for all they have done for our family when we were at the lowest point.

David and his manager Paul Loasby arranged for the song to be recorded and filmed in RAK Studios in St John’s Wood and, knowing that Gary was also a musician, they asked Gary to add his voice, which he did.

The entire day in the studio was incredibly well organised and Paul Loasby ensured that interviews could take place in comfortable surroundings, with TV crews placed in unobtrusive positions that didn’t crowd Gary at all.

It was strange being in RAK again, as this was the very studio
Wilson and I were in many years before when we were offered a record deal that we foolishly lost by not signing with the manager who arranged the deal. Our lives were becoming more surreal by the day.

Gary wore a plain grey shirt and on the way to the studio I was looking at shops we drove past in the hope of finding him something special to wear, as the recording would be filmed. I got Wilson to stop the car at the one and only shop that looked the least bit promising. All of the clothes were underwhelming and extremely overpriced. Gary didn’t want anything that would make him look dressed up, so I chose the only T-shirt I could find that looked good.

When we got to the studio there was nowhere to park so Gary and I went in ahead while Wilson drove around for ages looking for a parking space.

As soon as we saw Chrissie Hynde with her Animal Liberation T-shirt we were at our ease. I told Chrissie that I’d been a vegetarian since I was nineteen years old and Gary had been a vegetarian for his entire life, and Chrissie said with a smile, ‘I knew I was backing the right people.’

Chrissie Hynde is shy but she was amazing with Gary and took the time to speak to him and to put him at his ease. She was lovely.

Gary was nervous. He didn’t wear the T-shirt I’d bought and initially stood so still that he seemed almost frozen. He barely moved during the recording but his rich, deep voice added so much to the song and it was good to see Gary playing the piano again, even if only very briefly.

The studio had allowed some TV stations to attend the session – including Russian, German and American ones – and we did interviews with them all. I was worried about doing one with CNN in case of bias, but the interview was a fair one.

I’ll be forever grateful to David Gilmour and Polly for all they’ve done for us; and to Paul Loasby for his first-class organisation of the event; and to Joe, a dear friend who came through for us in our time of need, despite not having seen us for years.

We got home and switched on the TV and there it was, ‘Chicago’, the song in all its glory. What was wonderful and totally unexpected was that Chrissie Hynde and David Gilmour – who rarely give interviews – did so in support of Gary.

We were watching and listening intently as David said:

The song was aired on TV stations throughout the world and people could donate whatever they could afford to download the song. It was produced by Chris Thomas and, in another coincidence, a young Gary had helped to look after Chris Thomas’s two children at summer camp. When Warner Bros offered us the record deal that we didn’t sign in the end, Chris Thomas was their chosen producer.

After Gary’s arrest every waking moment was spent trying to make sure he’d be safe. I hadn’t written a song for ages, but when I was finding it hard to cope I’d turn the music in the car up really loud and get lost in it. Music was my therapy.