Articles from the PRS News and Basca News
Barry and i had become very active in the music industry attending all events we could, PRS open days, BASCA meetings, we regularly made the industry mags and papers. One incredibly memorable event was going to the Ivor Novella awards at the Park Lane Dorchester Hotel, i was sat with the head of the BBC and his wife along with lots of famous musicians, Annie Lennox who was in an amazing red sequined dress she looked a million dollars, she got an award. Freddie Mercury and the queen band, the most memorable part was queen getting the lifetime achievement award, Freddie gave a speech where he said at the end, could Annie Lennox please return my dress at the end of the evening, everyone burst out laughing.
Vera Lynn sung We will meet again, which was incredible, i spoke with the Ivor Novella family, it was a great evening, we went out after and got legless on tequila, we ended up in the middle of the night on the train station in London trying to get a train back home we missed the last train but found out that a mail train was going to Manchester so we stowed away on it, only to be removed by the transport police, they held us for a hour, but Barry complained none stop over and over and in the end they kicked us out onto the platform, Barry stood outside and complained all night till the first train in the morning.
My Performing Rights Society and British Academy of Songwriters Composers & Authors Certificate
Had some great times with Barry, but sadly while he was playing with a group called Trans Europa Express on the Helsinki to Stockholm cruise ship which he did some times, he used a sun bed a lot to try and keep his tan, unfortunately he got skin cancer and went downhill very fast and died very suddenly that put an end to the song writing team, i was very upset for a long time, it turned out that when he died he was 53 but was saying h was 45, i thought this was funny once i got over the shock, it was so he could pull girls!
I decided to try and join an existing band, and tracked down a band i had seen year earlier, they supported UFO at the Free Trade Hall in 1978, Marseille, they were based in Liverpool, i had always liked there album, i called the lads up and asked if they were planning on doing anything and as it happened there guitarist had left and signed a contract with the BBC to do childrens television.
I went over to Liverpool and met them at their home and discussed the possibility of touring and doing a new album. They were up for it, but after i had left i just did not have the heart to do it again after Barry dying.
It was about this time that i started working with Rick Dixon from Kennedy Street Enterprises, he had just sold St Annes Music to Kennedy Street and retired, it included all 10cc hits and albums amongst other catalogues, it made him a very rich man. Rick had been our manager at Kennedy Street and i thought i could work with him on a project i was working on, it was as a result of going round the music royalty organisations and the realisation that they had hundreds of millions of pounds in slush funds for unclaimed royalties.
I had set up a company called D-Tec Investigations that specialised in tracking down people owned royalties for band members. Most people have heard of the PRS, but there is MCPS, PPL, VPL and others in the UK alone and each country had its own versions. I asked Rick if he would go to PPL with me and convince them to give us a list of who was owed money. Rick agreed and i had the heavy hitter i needed to get them to move on it, he had had similar fights with bands to get royalties they were owed.
PPL agreed to let it move forward and we set up an Escrow bank account system with the Nat West, the business was all ready to go. It would mean we were handling hundreds of millions per year.
At the same time i put another idea to Rick, its something i wanted to do, i was mad on War of the Worlds by Jeff Wayne, and i wanted to take it to huge venues as a show on tour, places like Wembley Stadium, i knew Kennedy Street could promote it and i was sure it would work with the right cast. After a long discussion about what i wanted to do with Rick that covered cast, and huge machines that would move on their own over the crowd, Rick was convinced that it would be huge and he called Jeff Wayne and we started to talk through how this could happen, Jeff agreed it would be good, and that project was also to be given the go ahead, this would be a huge money making venture again in the hundreds of millions with the merchandising.
My father then rather stupidly suggested that I get involved with one of his criminal capers. He had been in trouble with criminal matters all his life. He became involved in a series of burglaries to do with taking peoples identity documents to then hire cars which would be sold abroad. I cannot believe he encouraged me to get involved in it but I did, but I immediately confessed my involvement to the officers when I was arrested and all offences were taken into consideration. I was given a hefty sentence as I took on the responsibility for the case. I was given three years in 1988. My mother was horrified that I had borne the brunt of my fathers criminality because he was clearly the organiser but I was told I would get a light sentence as it was a first offence and that my farther would get a heavy sentence if I did not take the blame.
While I was in prison I organised and wrote and performed The Buddy Holly Story in front of the whole prison and outsiders, and also entered and won a national song writing competition that caused the BBC to come to the prison and record me playing the song, I won in two categories Written Composition and Performance, it was played on BBC radio as the winning song.
I was around twenty-two at the time. When I was released from my sentence I vowed I would never get into trouble again and I decided to move to Spain to make a fresh start. I gravitated towards Marbella as a lot of musicians hang out there. I got in touch with a number of famous musicians and was doing gigs there.
National Song Contest Win
I entered a national song writing and performance contest where i had to write a song original and then write all the music out for it, and then perform the song if i got through live on the BBC.
There was two categories
Fresh Start Moving to Spain
I flew out from Manchester airport with my wife and child Kay and Rosie and got a cab to Marbella and we booked into a hotel in the town centre it was not built up then, we were on the edge of the old town near the old bus station. I set about finding an apartment to live in, we quickly found one about 100m from the beach in the town centre. After a few months Kay went back to the UK with Rosie, it was supposed to be for a two week stay but it ended up with her not coming back out, we were already not getting along and i hardly phoned her re coming back out, i heard that her mother talked her to in to staying in the UK which i found out years later Kay regretted.
When I appeared on the scene in the Costa Del Sol (Costa Del Crime), word would have gone round quickly that I had given evidence in the UK against a mafia gang member from the Quality Street Gang (QSG) who sell arms and drugs to the IRA among others, this is a well documented fact.
Synopsis for "British Gangsters: Faces of the Underworld:
In 1981, Stalker had taken a nine-day holiday with the Manchester businessman, staying on a sailing yacht he owned in Florida, apparently with all expenses paid one. Then the Stalkers saw the Taylors occasionally at various social functions in Manchester. The boat had later been sold to a man in Spain, suspected "...of using it to ship cannabis." (John Stalker, The Stalker Affair, p. 173) The man was suspected of being part of the Quality Street Gang which carried on drug-trafficking from its villas on the Costa Blanca, especially in Benidorm, and with whom Taylor was connected. The mere mention of the boat, apparently a catamaran called The True Love, and its shipping cannabis set off alarm bells in Britain's security services, as MI6 was using it in an attempt to assassinate Libya's dictator Gaddafi, and it was captained by Simon's brother, Christopher. A few times the two Haywards had visited Ibiza in the hope of getting a line on how to get Gaddafi by following the travels of a leader of the Provisional IRA known as DUKE who also had a villa there. MI6's great fear was that Stalker's continued inquiries into what had happened in Northern Ireland in 1982 would uncover Hayward's role there, and now here in Sweden, it seems, with the Palme assassination while he was reassessing the role of his bodyguards for Major David Walker's KMS. Ltd. security agency.
My only involvement with the QSG was In 1986, I was attacked in my home with a knife by Joseph Zammit who was shouting he was with the QSG, and that i owed a girl he said was his girlfriend Diane Lomas some money from my clothing business, it was all made up just so they could try and strong arm me, he forced me at knifepoint to write out a cheque for the amount he said i owed. Later that night police officers searched the road and found the cheque thrown away in a bush on my street. Detective Chief Superintendent Roy Pearson, who was a family friend, told me that i should go and talk with Jack Trickett at the time, a local boxing promoter and member of the QSG. The case went to court and Zammit went to prison.
In Spain I started to look for other musicians to work with, i was going to Puerto Banus a lot, mostly because there were bands playing there every night, i used to go along and jam and watch most nights, there was a bar called Dukes owned by a London mob guy Called Duke, that i frequented. One day while in there Duke stood up and announced that he had sold the bar to Jack Trickett for 500,000 pounds a huge overpriced sum, Jack stood up near the door, i knew they had done this for me, Jack Trickett had been trying to get into me for years using various tactics and people. I stood up and left walking right passed him, i never went back there after that. Jack Tricket was a well-known member of the Quality Street Gang.
I got into a nightly routing of going out to have a drink at Sinatras on the corner of Puerto Banus Harbour, it was a lot bigger in 1990 than it is now, and was frequented nightly by people from the Marbella club a top hotel on the coast. It was only 50 meters from the boat i lived on.
One day I met a woman in there called Pam Simon, we had a fling at the Marbella club and she left to go to Italy, I got a call two days later saying there was a ticket for me at Malaga airport to fly to Michael Angelo airport in Rome.
I got to the airport in Rome and was met by a Limo, I was whisked off to the Hilton hotel just behind the Spanish steps where Pam and her entourage were waiting. It turned out she was married to a Californian Senator from Orange County. We had a great time in Rome did all the sights, Trevi fountain, coliseum, Spanish steps and most of the monuments.
We then flew down to Napoli by helicopter, saw the Vesuvius volcano, got a limo down to the Amalfi coast, we stayed at an amazing hotel on the see front built into the cliffs of Positano. It was an amazing holiday, fantastic restaurants and nightlife. We rowed out one day to a Hydrofoil in a small boat, got on board and went to Capri for the day. Pam asked me to go live in California and she would buy me a yacht to live on, but I wanted to get back into music. We flew back to Rome and I went back to Spain and Pam went back to her life. There was some correspondence from her she would send me cloths in the post with thousands of red love hearts in.
The Navy club Puerto Banus
I was living at this point on a 90 foot boat in Puerto Banus harbour the boat was owned by Jill and Dan, Dan was an ex MI5 agent and always had a gun, he and Jill had been together years, i would go out to the Navy bar most nights an exclusive gentlemans club, one night i went there with the cousin of the queen, who owned British Car Auctions and some other friends. Prostitution was rife in Banus and legal. I Have personally never paid for it, but all the old rich guys would queue up. Banus was the Wild West back then, it was one big party.
I would pilot the boat down to Banana beach every Sunday where a guy called Mel would be playing on a stage on the beach, many famous people would get up and play Phil Lynott from Thin Lizzy, KK Downing from Judas Priest, it was always a great day, i would anchor up off shore dive in and swim ashore, there was a bar there. There was always around a thousand people there mostly members of the Costa Del Crime!
We would take the boat over to the coast of Morocco where there was a sand bar that came close to the surface just offshore, sharks would gather here, we would have champagne parties there with paying guests. Occasionally, about once per month we would take the boat to Gibraltar and stock up on British food.
I still had my place in Marbella and would go there sometimes, i used to drink in a bar called Bar Anna, one of the owners from Manchester was a guy called John Howard Tapley. Back then at night all along the front of Marbella port there was a huge disco going on, one big party with several bars in a row.
When I was in a bar one evening a guy called Colin Brackett came up to me. I had never met him before. He told me that he had once managed Led Zeppelin so I was immediately impressed with him. He said he could introduce me to people who could get me back into a band and touring again. I was offered a gig as part of Samantha Foxs backing band but turned it down as it clearly is not my sort of music! I played a gig at the London Underground in Fuengirola, Colin was getting gigs for Mel (a local musician), he was playing there and i got up and jammed with the band, this was the same Mel i knew from Banana beach. So as far as i knew Colin was a genuine promoter and had set that gig up for Mel. Colin asked if I wanted to meet a chap who had a recording studio in Marbella.
I was introduced to a guy called Tor who had a 24 Track recording studio in his house, i was very familiar with these studios having recorded at Red Bus in London, Polydor in London and Eel Pie The Whos recording studios and Strawberry Studios in Stockport 10CC Studio.
I discovered later that Colin and his son who was nicknamed Bod, both came from Brighton, were part of a gang. Colin took me to Tors place and I played guitar. Tor loved my playing and he said that he was more than happy for me to record using his studio facilities. I seem to recall he was a really nice chap aged about mid forties at the time.
I remember whilst I was there one day playing my guitar, that a lot of the English guys were having a meeting talking about buying large consignments of toner for photocopiers they were mentioning a figure of £400,000. I particularly remember this because to me it seemed a huge amount of money for toner, of course in retrospect I discovered that they in fact were talking about drug deals. I did not know this at the time. I was simply a guitarist.
I had started going to see Tor without Bracket and the others, something Bracket did not want me to do, as I just thought he was a music fan and he had a studio i could record a new solo album in, I saw it as an opportunity to get back into music. I went around a few times to Tors villa to jam with him.
He asked me if I would give him some advice about the purchase of an SSL mixing desk for the studio. This type of kit was only available in the UK and I was really excited to be asked this advice and for the opportunities of using this mixing desk in the context of making my own music. Tor asked me if I would go to the UK and buy the desk for him, it was around £160,000 at the time so I was trusted by him and looking forward to recording. He introduced me to Jim Hopper (known as Switch) and Tor said he was trying to put a music project together also.
I was out at a street party in El Zocco Calla Honda, it was great fun i was with the drummer from Showaddywaddy, when the party was over there was a bar we went to called The Port Hole we took a whole dustbin full of Sangria there, we were pretty drunk by this stage, there was a girl behind the bar i fancied called Jayne McCready as soon as i saw her, i chatted her up and we ended up moving in together some time later.
At this time I was living in an apartment with Jayne in Calla Honda. A couple of weeks later I was surprised to get a visit from Colin one evening. He seemed to be extremely angry with me for going to see Tor in his absence. I thought it was because he was anxious to be involved as a manager of any project we had, and felt perhaps that he was being elbowed out. I did not think that there was anything else mysterious or wrong.
I was invited by Colin to a bar called the Port Hole,where i met Jayne, one evening to a party. It was clear there was a lot of menacing undercurrents going on in this bar and there appeared to be two separate factions of heavies. I came to realise that these guys I had met were in fact involved in criminal activity so I was interested to distance myself from them.
One group had John Tapley in, the guy who owned Bar Annan, i went outside with him to find out what was going on, he told me that Alan Wilcox owed Norman money (the guy that John was with), and he wanted it, they were there to cause a fight. I got John to tell the guy he was with, Norman, to calm it down, which they seemed to listen too. With Colin that night were his son Bod, his partner (his words) Alan Wilcox, Barry Unwin and Roy Rochelle, they seemed to all owe the money to this Norman guy.
Members of the gang involved in Tors subsequent murder:
Alan Wilcox the Ring Leader, DOB: 31/10/1934:
Responsible for a series of famous armed robberies all over the UK, he was the regional branch manager of Barclays bank and with figures from the underworld planned and executed the robberies. Along with many crimes in Spain and other countries, he was the ring leader and got caught bringing in £500,000 in to Spain from the IRA, from southern Ireland to Spain through Gibraltar by a judge investigating him, he had been arrested with eight different identities in Spain alone. Alan Digo, William Day, George Garforth were three of the names the judge told me. Wife Jan son Alan Peter Wilcox, A UK address i was given by the court was 16b Derwent Court, Childall, Liverpool.
Colin Bracket, Wilcoxs Partner From Brighton
Cocaine deal fixer posing as a band manager, it was well known on the coast that Mel Williams was selling kilos of Cocaine thats the guy who i was playing with at Banana beach and the London Underground all set up by Colin.
Bod Bracket (Colins Son) From Brighton
Was selling drugs when i met him only saw him with Marijuana.
Roy Rochelle, Strong Arm (Name on passport when arrested) DOB: 23/06/1943
Roy born origonaly in Birmingham, was a side kick to Barry Unwin, Roy openly spoke and confessed to the murder of a guy in a wine bar in the UK in Halifax, he had many names, his real name was Roy Edwin Letts, Roy Rochelle introduced me to Barry Unwin at the Port Hole bar the night of the issue with the other gang. Dads name Eduardo, mums name Emily. Wife was called Val. Got an address from the judge as 58 Arden Road, Smethwick, Worley, west Midlands. There was a person named Michael C Rixon from Halifax re the case.
Barry Unwin, Strong Arm, DOB: 28/11/1937 From Wandsworth
Served 9 years out of 15 for providing explosives to the IRA, in Dartmoor prison. At the time of Tors death he was just out of prison in Spain for running a guy over because of a drugs deal gone wrong, it was attempted murder. I went into Fuengirola with barry one day only to pick up some English food, on that trip Barry Unwin was a friend of and introduced me to a guy called Johnny Morrissey QSG member, and Johnny Stoke London Mob Drug runner all British Drug Mafia.
Heres what Jonnys son says he knows:
My grandfather then came and joined the british intelligence service and got his son into it my father johnny Morrissey. He got trained in the t,a british territorial army he then was placed to infiltrate organised crime and I,R,A movements. He got a job on the doors of nightclubs as a bouncer. Then the intelligence service arranged for him to go to prison by pretending to beat up off duty policemen, all a front orchestrated to give him a background for prison. In prison he met members of the quality street gang a I,R,A fundraiser. He befriended them and caught there eye as being very violent and very capable. All the time leaking intelligence to the government. Once out of prison he joined the quality street gang and moved to Rochdale. Where he worked with I,R,A members including eddy hegerty and jimmy swords and jimmy the weed Donnelly. My father was the guy who the british intelligence called on to kill the I,R,A members they could not be seen being apart off, and rise up throw the ranks of the quality street gang the main fundraiser for the I,R,A, with british government sanctioning his criminal enterprises including drugs, extortion and murder. In exchange for intelligence on the I,R,A and quality street gang.
I carried on going to Tors to start my music project. A few days after my last visit at Tors, Roy Rochelle came round to my apartment and said he wanted a quiet word with me. I went outside to a car with Barry and Alan in, and got in. They then drove me up into the hills behind Calla Honda Marbella. Much to my horror Alan pressed a gun barrel into my forehead. I was so scared that I wet myself. I thought they were going to shoot me and I could not begin to understand why.
I was told that Wilcox and Bracket met with Tor to get the money for the deal they were doing with him, (I was told by Wilcox and Rochelle) but Tor went back on the deal, they said that they tortured him (presumably to get the money) and killed him. Its just as likely that he handed them the money and they killed him anyway as part of the plan and told me a story to scare me off.
Alan did most the talking he told me that my music friend Tor was dead and that it had been really nasty. He led me to believe that Tor had been tortured by them for apparently reneging on a deal. I simply could not believe it. It was like something out of a bad film. Alan told me that I had to leave Spain immediately and they gave me money and some Tors possessions in a black case. I could not understand why they were trying to get me to leave the Country, they just wanted me out of the way so I could not say they had met him. Later as I thought it through when I was not in such a state of shock, it could of been because they were trying to set me up as the fall guy or smokescreen for whatever it was they had done to Tor. They then framed me for it, and I took the bait initially. With insight I should of gone right to the police but after the gun to the head by Alan Wilcox with Roy Rochelle and Barry Unwin in the car, where they told me to get out of Spain i thought this would not be safe.
Carolena Park, Marbella
The Move To Marbella:
I went back to the apartment and told Jayne what had happened. I felt I did not want to run and leave Spain but what we decided to do was to move five miles away to the other side of Marbella pretending to the heavies that we had moved abroad and gone out the way. We discussed going to the police but we were too scared to do so as they had said we would get the same if we spoke to anyone about it.
Because I could not be seen outside for fear that somebody would see me and recognise me, I was unable to do any work and resorted to selling the watch and gold chains that I had been given that were Tors belongings. We sold this stuff on through a guy called Gerry Carbin. Gerry was a drug addict and smack head, he was a mess. He had nothing to do with Tors murder but he did handle the items that I was selling. I did not believe what Alan Wilcox and the others had told me so i asked Gerry Carbin to go and check it out, so i drove him down to the villa dropped him off nearby, and waited away from the villa. He came back and said it looked like no one was there but that someone saw him, i later found out that Gerry had tried to break in using a hacksaw on the bars of the villa, he was discovered by a neighbour who called the police, in his panic he left the hacksaw there with his finger prints on. We waited at the end of the road and sure enough a few minutes later a plain clothes police car with 4 big guys come flying down the road. In my estimation there was no way they would of done this for a break in so i assumed what Wilcox said was true.
Move to Tenerife:
Jayne and I decided then that we would go to Tenerife because we thought we would be safe there. We thought if we waited for a bit of time the police would be bound to arrest the culprits and then we could safely return to Marbella. We decided we would make a statement once that had happened. We got the ferry from Cadiz to Tenerife Santa Cruz, i recall it was a 2 day journey, once we got there we hired a car and got an apartment in Puerto de la Cruz. I started to look for work and had just got a job selling Villas.
We spent our time visiting the site like the Volcano Mount Teide and the national park, we drove all round Tenerife, playa de los Americas. On one journey over the mountains we came across two people lying in the road and a crashed moped, there was a guy wandering about in shock and a girl lying still against the side of the road, i spoke to the guy and he said he had come off his bike and he thought his girlfriend was dead, i went over to her and the skin off her scalp was over her face, her face was down near her chin, i took her pulse and she was alive, i pushed the skin back on her head into the right place there was a faint glimmer from her eyes, we got a guy who was passing to call an ambulance, the girl could not move. We waited about 20 mins with her and an ambulance turned up and took her away we never found out if she lived, traumatic day!
April 2nd 1991, Arrested in Puerto de la Cruz, Tenerife:
On the day of our arrest in Tenerife we left our apartment and walked across the road to our hire car (that was hired in my own name as I did not think I would be implicated), a small Renault hatchback, we got in, i put the key in the ignition and then there was a tap on my window, i turned to look and was staring straight down the barrel of a pump shotgun held by a guy who looked like a Mexican bandit, i opened the door and got out, they were all over the place with guns, we were taken back to the apartment and it was searched, then we were taken to the main police headquarters, we were not told why we were being arrested and at the time I did not speak Spanish so we were completely in the dark. The consulate were called down to the police head quarters and they explained that the accusation was for Homicide, they gave us no information and asked no questions, we were taken to a cell.
April 4th 1991, Taken to Marbella by plane:
The cell door opened, I was told we were being taken to Marbella, we were put in plain cars and driven at very high speed nearly crashing twice to the airport where we were sat down together on a bench and left alone in a corridor. This was very strange as we had been kept separate up until this point. We spoke to each other and agreed we would not mention the other people accept for Roy Rochelle as it would put us in danger Roy was the only one we knew for sure had been to the house as he had said so in the car when they threatened me, so we thought they would have forensic evidence of him (it turned out that Roy Rochelle was under arrest first and tried to blame me which was their idea from the beginning!).
The next part was bizarre, we were sat on the plane separate, we were the last to get on the plane, we each had an accompanying officer who treated us very well, it was not until we got to Malaga that i realized that this was being used politically, everyone was led of the plane and we then left via the back of the plane, there was a line of Guardia Civil officers with machine guns all the way to the entrance of the building, with press taking photos as we were led to the building. Right there on the runway i decided I was not going to help them, we were being used, in some sort of game we had no idea about, it really was pathetic.
Insert Press article here from Spanish newspaper
We could be photographed as the caught criminals (all on Rochelles say so!). We were immediately taken before the Judge whose name was Dona Blanca Esther Diez. Her husband was the police inspector of the International Crime Squad in Spain and he was also present Inspector Jimenez Lomas.
The first thing I remember the judge asking was what size feet I had, I told her size 6, (I had a translator) then a shouting argument broke out in open court between the judge and the police inspector in charge of the case, it was translated to me like this;
Judge: - His feet dont match the crime scene he was not there.
Police Inspector: - That does not matter
Judge: - It does matter, the people who did this crime had larger feet.
They had been told that I was a musician.
I did not understand the conversations in Court because it was all in Spanish and the interpreters they provided were only translating the occasional phrase. Jayne was released. We had both given full statements to the police and I had explained that I had nothing to do with the murder of Tor.
Once the shouting and hearing were over, I sat outside, then the judge let Jayne (My Girlfriend) go and said I would follow after they had checked some details and I was told I would not be sent to prison but held in a local holding unit called the Marbella Aresto Municiple.
April 4th 1991 held at the Marbella Aresto Municiple:
I was taken to the Arresto Municipal, the local holding cells for Marbella, i was locked in a room with about ten gypsy heroin addicts, they immediately started to pick on me and steal my cloths, this went on for days, then i made a written complaint to the judge explaining i was being attacked and abused by these people and that it was against my human rights. There were rats coming and going as they pleased in our cell through the open sewers the smell was unbearable, i was permanently cold and hungry for days. It was a living hell.
I decided i was going to try and escape, i was so angry at the way they were treating me. I asked many times to speak to the consulate and they kept saying the consulate could not come, i knew the truth was they had not contacted them. I paid a gypsy the equivalent of £50 to smuggle in some hacksaw blades and wire cutters, he got his mother to bring them on a visit and she passed them through. No one knew of this only me and the Gypsy.
I then immediately caused a massive fuss stating that the judge had not paid any attention to my claims of abuse and that i wanted to make an official complaint that i was suffering human rights violations and that i wanted a lawyer brought and the British Embassy to witness what was going on, it was all true! One hour later it all stopped and the judge sent everyone to Malaga Jail, everyone except me! I had not been charged and was told it did not look like i was going to be, they brought me food and some blankets, i had had none up to this point. The second the place was empty i was expecting a beating, i thought they were getting rid of the witnesses. I went to work on the escape within a few minutes every fiber in my body and mind was tuned in to the job at hand. It was never an intention to run away, just make that judge aware that they will not be able to do to me what they do to a local gypsy, and why the locals put up with them is anyones guess, perhaps with their corrupt system the gypsys knew they had too much power and just swallowed it.
The morning started with a hot drink and some breakfast, as soon as i had eaten it i was sawing, i sawed all day on and off when i could covering my tracks as i went, getting rid of the filings and adding cobwebs and dust where needed to cover the saw marks, i was just thinking about this when i looked over to the door and there was a police officer looking straight at me, i was sawing the bars with some toweling round the saw, my hands were bleeding, we held each others stare for about two minutes, i thought he was going to pull his gun and shoot me, with no expression at all on either of our faces he just closed the door and walked away, i fell off the toilet wall and was shaking for hours i had mad thoughts of them rushing through the door with clubs to beat me and a million other scenarios, then i heard the door go, he was stood there with a hot drink.
I walked over and never mentioned what had happened, i just tried to ignore it, i thought i had got away with it, but then he started to talk in English, i was shocked. He said, My name is Manolo, I dont want to be a police officer, i am studying to be a lawyer, i replied whys that then, then he began a long statement, i was expecting the worst at any moment, i thought he had been waiting for me to start cutting the bars again, so they could rush me and catch me in the act. He continued Spain is a very corrupt country Gary, I want to become a lawyer so that I can stop situations like this happening, everyone believes your innocent but you have been targeted as the culprit because its easy and makes the judge look good that the crime is solved after the expense of extraditing you, or at least thats what the papers will say, I replied, so why have not you reported me for trying to escape, escape, i have seen no evidence of an escape, and he let out a big smile.
He was actually going to let me escape (if i could). He said you should hang around because no one thinks your involved, they know who did it they just want you to point the finger. These words are not exact, but it was in this vain. He locked me in my cell and turned his back and closed the door, i sat for ages thinking he was trying to set me up, but he seemed so genuine, i was up most of the night tossing and turning wondering if i should continue, and the bottom line was i could not stand to be in that building one minute longer than i had to be.
The next morning I dropped the cross section square bars to the roof space in about 30 minutes, there was a strong wire mesh across the whole ceiling above it, I spent about an hour cutting through that with the wire cutters, bearing in mind that about 4 meters away was an officer with a gun standing guard. I climbed up into the roof space, it was big and I could stand up in it, if anyone had come in during any of this I would have been caught. There was just four cuts left and then the door of the cell I was in.
I had calculated it would take me about 2 hours for the cell door and about six hours for the bars in the attic, plus about 30 mins to cut the wire cage around the window. They never came in the holding area except at breakfast lunch dinner and lock up about 9pm. All the rest of the time that day I was in the attic, my hands were swollen and hurting I only had one blade left for the cell door that evening out of eight blades, lady luck played her part! The lock on the door was like this one in the image except the door had open bars so I could put my arm through to cut the lock and slide it back.
I would use every part of the blades until they were blunt all over, one blade was going to be enough. Before I dropped down that night I had cut all the bars through in the window to within one millimeter of them falling out. The covered them up with dust dirt and cobwebs, I had cut the wire cage off the window and held it back in place with wire from the roof to tie it back in place. The cross section that I had cut out to get in the roofs attic was held back in place with wedges that I covered in muck and cobwebs to hide it from being seen by the guards, it was right over them when they came in to lock up.
Its funny to say now but while I was in the roof cutting on three occasions the door opened and guards walked in. On two of the occasions I heard them coming and managed to literally fall through the roof and into the toilet below and pretended I had bad guts, and on both these occasions the roof was wide open and they never saw it! I cut my back and side on these two occasions on the jagged metal left from the cuts and was bleeding.
The third occasion the officer was in the room before I heard him. I stayed totally still and quite, he walked down the holding room and back out the door and never noticed me above him, I had placed my jacket and a spare blanket in my bed to make it look like I was asleep, he bought it or he was on the side of the trainee lawyer, either way I was lucky and relieved. Sweat was pouring off me in the heat from the stress, strain and exertion of the work. By lock up I was ready to go, I only had the door of my cell to cut. Plus whatever was through the window in the attic to deal with, outside was a flat roof, I could not see anything else through the tiny window, I was not even sure I could fit through it until the night.
After lock up I waited an hour and then started on the door, I cut through it and pushed the metal out of the lock releasing the door and climbed up the toilet block to the cross section I had cut in the roof, I pushed up from the top of the toilet wall, the section popped out, I carefully and quietly placed it to the side, pulled myself up through the hole, walked across the attic roof that was all see through, made the final cut on the bars, pulled them out and slid out the window dropping on to a small flat roof. My heart was pounding, and I had that much adrenalin flowing I could not feel anything. I crawled to the edge of the roof, it was a long way down about two stories, I hung from the roof with people walking by on the street and dropped off the roof landing with a thud and rolling into the street. I quickly got up and started walking down the steep hill toward the main road in Marbella, as I was reaching it a heard a siren very close, saw a blue flashing light, I could not feel my feet on the ground, I was floating on adrenalin, I froze to the spot and an ambulance came zooming past, I went on my way
Before i left that night I left a letter on the bed in the cell to the Judge explaining my actions and my complaints about what had been going on, under protest and human rights violations I escaped from the Aresto Municiple. I then moved into an apartment over the road from the gaol with Jayne.
I was picked up from there a few days later, the phone in the apartment rang, which was odd as we had given the number to no one, we knew what was coming next, there was a knock at the door, i walked over and answered it there was Inspector Jimenez with a colleague with his gun drawn but pointing at the ground.
I told the judge the police had let me escape because I was being set up by her and the inspector. Apparently my escape resulted in the holding cell area being closed down which was no bad thing. All the police were sacked and the Arresto Municipal was closed presumably forever!
I was then held at the Marbella police station where all the sacked police officers and people who had lost their job as a result of the closure of the Aresto Municiple were brought past my cell one by one to scowl and intimidate me, again breaking human rights laws.
April 24th 1991 Transferred to Malaga Old Jail:
From that moment on they (the courts and police) did everything to stop any evidence in the case being brought, The Judge then sent me to Malaga gaol where I was handcuffed to a bed for five days and held incommunicado i was not allowed to speak to anyone and no one was allowed to speak with me.
The cell I was in had a cage on the inside of the door, so if a guard came in they could not enter the cell. It was a sort of cell inside a cell, it was where they put escapees, I had to wear pants with red stripes on so the guards knew I was an escapee. I had a private court yard where I would be allowed out for a few hours each day, after a couple of days word went round that I was being held there and one day I heard a loud bang, it was a battery with paper wrapped round it thrown over the wall, I undid it and it had a message on it from other people involved in the case, they wanted to know what was going on, so I wrote a message with what I knew which was not a lot and threw it back, a few batteries went back and forward, there were 12 people arrested over the murder and all were in Malaga prison.
The old Malaga jail had one central control office and 4 main courtyards of this, it was more like a military prison than a prison you would see now, the walls were manned with machine guns and there were many armed guards, lots of Guardia Civil the civil Guard set up in the Franco era. Everybody on the staff loved Franco and would talk about him as better times. There were many inmates who had ridicules sentences from the Franco era they were like lost prisoners, one guy I remember who spoke English stole a car and got 22 years hard labour, there were many stories like this.
The sleeping arrangements was mostly Brigades, multiple bunk beds in one big room, there was constant trouble in the Brigades, mostly between Gaetanos Spanish Gypsys who would steal each others stuff and drugs and then have knife fights about it. Most of the foreign prisoners were kept in individual cells. After my initial inhumane treatment of being chained to a bed, I was transferred to a foreign Brigade, it was better than where i was but awful living conditions, people tried to get some privacy by running lines of string and hanging sheets over them to provide a sort of dividing wall.