An Appalling Vista

Previous posts such as ‘A Solicitor’s Letter From North East Wales MIND’, ‘Dirty Rotten Scoundrels’ and ‘The Banality Of Evil’ gave examples of the constant lies, the forging of documents and the perjury used to secure convictions against patients who had made serious complaints about Dr Dafydd Alun Jones, Dr Tony Francis (Dr X) and their colleagues – complaints which routinely went uninvestigated but were then documented as having been thoroughly investigated but found to be groundless. Some patients who were deemed to pose a particular challenge to Dafydd and the paedophiles were completely ruined by all the ‘help’ that they received from the Top Doctors.

My post ‘Killing Floor – I Know Cos I Was There!’ introduced the story of F, a mental health patient from north Wales who was a witness to serious wrongdoing and was fitted up, assaulted by the police, wrongfully arrested, left to rot in the North Wales Hospital for a year and then fleeced of his property and denied all contact with his child. Someone who witnessed much of this was later found dead.

I can understand that people unacquainted with the practices of Dafydd et al would find accounts of what mental health patients and kids in care in north Wales had experienced and witnessed hard to believe. It was certainly easier for everyone if those relating serious criminal conduct on the part of Top Doctors with the collusion of Angels, social workers, NHS managers, the police, certain lawyers, magistrates and members of the judiciary could be dismissed as being mad, malicious or making up horror stories to gain compensation. Those involved in the criminality were everyone’s neighbours, the parents of their children’s friends and the people whom they socialised with locally.

I have mentioned before that Lord Denning, the Master of the Rolls, 1962-82, took the view that it was better that the Birmingham Six remain in prison rather than anyone admit to the enormity of the miscarriage of justice to which they had been subject. When the Birmingham Six first appealed in 1979, Lord Denning famously stated that: ‘If the six men win, it will mean that the police are guilty of perjury, that they are guilty of violence and threats, that the confessions were invented and improperly admitted in evidence and the convictions were erroneous… This is such an appalling vista that every sensible person in the land would say that it cannot be right that these actions should go any further.’

The Birmingham Six were cleared in 1991.

The medical establishment undoubtedly operated on a Lord Denning world view of ‘it is far better that we continue to maintain that there are no serious problems in the medical profession because the reality of what has been allowed to continue in north Wales alone for decades is so dreadful that the fall-out would be unmanageable if anything approaching the truth were to be admitted’.

In my post ‘Killing Floor – I Know Cos I Was There!’ about F and the possibility that he had information about serious crimes committed before he ever arrived in north Wales in 1979 – including the death of Jimi Hendrix as a result of criminal negligence – and that being the possible reason why Dafydd and Dr Tony Francis (Dr X) destroyed him, I promised to write a further post with more details re F and the stitch-up and provide details of more celeb deaths with a link to those Top Doctors who were linked to the death of Hendrix.

I mentioned that it was Top Doctor’s wife Kathy Etchingham, a former girlfriend of Hendrix, who was sufficiently outraged by the claims of another girlfriend of Hendrix, Monika Dannemann, that Hendrix had died as a result of serious medical negligence that Kathy had attempted to have Monika imprisoned and gave multiple interviews to the press trashing Monika. After Monika was found dead, Kathy simply used this as yet more evidence that Monika was a mad, lying cow. Throughout it all F maintained that Hendrix had been killed by Top Doctors and that a cover-up at a high level had followed.

Despite F seeming to know some of the circumstances concerning Hendrix’s death, F was not at all au fait with the workings of the NHS. However, I am and I noticed that when Hendrix was found in a coma – Monika always claimed that Hendrix was still alive when the paramedics arrived –  he was taken to St Mary Abbot’s Hospital. St Mary Abbot’s was located nearby, but I suspect that Top Doctors themselves would not use that hospital or allow anyone that they cared about to use it. Hendrix died in Sept 1970 and at that time St Mary Abbot’s still had an A&E/acute dept and it was there that Hendrix was pronounced dead.

By 1972 St Mary Abbot’s had lost its A&E/acute dept and was only a geriatric and psychiatric hospital. There is a great deal of snobbery in medicine and geriatrics and psychiatry are considered the pits and they were back in 1970 as well. No hospital ever wants to lose its A&E/acute services and it is when those services are threatened that Top Doctors tell patients that they will all die if the service shuts, that people write to their MPs and protest in town centres and that the BMA sends a clear message to the local MP that they will lose the next election if the closure goes ahead. If a hospital loses its A&E/acute dept, it loses kudos, funding and the best staff. It is often the first step to the long rundown to complete closure.

If St Mary Abbot’s A&E had gone by 1972 it suggests that there were very big problems in that dept because no-one was able to save it. Hospital depts don’t disappear overnight – it is preceded by years of discussion and gradual disinvestment and once word gets out that a dept is on the way out, doctors stop applying for jobs there because they know how grim the atmosphere will be and it won’t do anything for their CV either. In 1971 the transformation of St Mary Abbot’s into a dumping ground began – a psychiatry ward was added.

In the way that Top Doctors in Gwynedd had an arrangement to ensure that their own children were never taken to Ysbyty Gwynedd because paediatrics there was alleged to be so dangerous and that no relative of a Top Doc ever ended up in the North Wales Hospital Denbigh, I bet that Top Docs in London didn’t depend on the A&E in St Mary Abbot’s in 1970. It will have been for other people, particularly people who didn’t matter. Lest anyone believe that Top Docs don’t think like this, I’m happy to tell you that they do. If they think that no-one is listening, some of them will make this crystal clear. Dear old Dafydd once managed to say to me ‘you don’t matter’. What Dafydd didn’t realise was that someone else was listening to that call. (The security services were as well, but that’s because they had Brown and me under surveillance rather than Dafydd.) Hey ho Dafydd, you’re not very nice but you’re not very bright either.

Hendrix fell into a coma within spitting distance of some of the grandest, most elite teaching hospitals in London. He was taken to St Mary Abbot’s where, according to Monika, he died. When years later Monika made her allegations of serious negligence public, Kathy Ethingham and her Top Doc husband Nicholas Page didn’t inform the police, they contacted the staff who had treated – or failed to treat – Hendrix and then had a meeting with them. Where it was agreed that the witch should not be permitted to make such allegations and someone at least suggested that Monika had been responsible for Hendrix’s death herself.

 

By the 1990s Kathy Etchingham repeatedly stressed that her 1960s past was long ago and far away, but she had obviously remained in touch with at least one friend from those days, because in 1997 she invited him to the party that was held when Kathy – who had forgotten all about those days -succeeded in having an English Heritage Blue Plaque erected on the wall of the Mayfair flat that she had once shared with Hendrix. That old friend was Pete Townshend, who owned – and might still own – a house in Churt in Surrey. Kathy and the Top Doc lived in Churt.

 

In a 1989 radio interview Townshend acknowledged his bisexuality. He had recorded a song which he stated was an ‘acknowledgement of the fact that I’d had a gay life, and that I understood what gay sex was about’. However, in a 1994 interview for ‘Playboy’ Townsend said ‘in the interview I also talked about my “gay life,” which – I meant – was actually about the friends I’ve had who are gay’. Townshend later wrote in his 2012 autobiography that he at one point felt as if he was ‘probably bisexual’. Townshend also stated jokingly that he once felt sexually attracted to Mick Jagger. 

In Jan 2003 Townshend was arrested by British police in a child porn investigation. However, he was given a tip-off that the police were going to raid his home three days before they arrived. Towshend’s credit card usage to access a child porn site was traced to him through Operation Ore, the British counterpart of the US Operation Avalanche. When confronted by the police, Townshend admitted using his credit card to access a child pornography website. Townshend claimed he had accessed the child porn website for the purposes of researching a book. He has not as yet written that book. On another occasion he claimed he was researching child porn to protect his son.

Because Townshend confessed to accessing the child porn website, he received a caution and avoided a trial. Bob McLachlan, the former head of Scotland Yard’s paedophile unit, described the caution as ‘totally inappropriate’. He asked ‘Why is this rock star being given such lenient treatment when he has accepted a caution and therefore admits his guilt?’ His admission to using his credit card to access a child porn website and that he had viewed child pornography images was the central component of his guilty plea.

Townshend had access to his lawyers at all times. He avoided charges beyond a caution, as the police did not detect any images of child rape on his 14 computers. Townshend was never cleared of his offence and remained on the Sex Offender Register for five years, 2003 –08. He had to give a DNA sample, check in with the British police regularly and inform them of his movements during his Sex Offender registration. Townshend will have a lifelong criminal record for the caution.

On June 22, 2006 it was reported that Townshend had withdrawn an ‘ill-advised’ story from his blog, which depicted graphic teen sex. He told the Daily Mail: ‘I’ve taken down my story. I want to make it clear that I respect the requirements of the Sex Offenders Register without condition.’

Confusion was introduced into the Townshend case by British investigative journalist Duncan Campbell in an article he wrote for ‘The Guardian’ in which he stated: ‘(Operation) Ore has dragged big names into the spotlight – such as the musicians Pete Townshend…falsely accused of accessing child pornography.’ Campbell knew that Townshend had admitted to breaking the law and had accepted the consequences.

Duncan Campbell’s arguments against Operation Ore – initially well received – were cast under a shadow when the computer expert he used, Jim Bates of Computer Investigations, was convicted in March 2008 of falsifying his qualifications and given a six-month suspended prison sentence. As a ‘pioneer of forensic computer analysis’, Bates had until his conviction been used widely by police and prosecutors. He is no longer used as an expert witness by prosecutors.

I presume that this Duncan Campbell is the Duncan Campbell who used to write for the ‘New Statesman’. He did write some good exposes but on one occasion there were complaints from readers when a copy of the ‘New Statesman’ was published with a photo of Duncan Campbell on the cover sporting a visible nasty injury to his face accompanied by words along the lines of ‘What happened when Duncan Campbell met Scotland Yard’ [or the phrase might have been ‘The Met’]. It transpired that Campbell had not been thumped by the police, he had fallen off of his bike after he left the station.

I read the ‘New Statesman’ for years until Brown and I noticed that it was getting light on intellectual content and heavy on features advising one on the sort of wine one should have with one’s meals. When I did used to read ‘New Statesman’, I noticed that there was never a word about the abuse of kids in care or mental health patients of which I had become acutely aware by then, although the plight of a number of other cohorts having a hard time was publicised. Neither was there any admission of certain problems in the NHS which were well-known to everyone who worked within it.

Richard Webster wrote the book ‘The Secret of Bryn Estyn’, which maintained that there was no serious problem of abuse of kids in care in north Wales and that the bellyaching in north Wales was the result of hysteria, a witch hunt and Alison Taylor telling porkies. The ‘New Statesman’ published a libellous article about Alison in the wake of the Waterhouse Report which was written by Richard Webster, ‘Can A Whistleblower Be Wrong?’ Alison sued – she represented herself – and won. It was admitted by the ‘New Statesman’ that they published the article on the grounds that Alison would not be able to afford to sue them. Alison accepted a settlement.

When that article was published, ‘New Statesman’ was owned by New Labour big wig and millionaire Geoffrey Robertson.

 

It was reported in the ‘Mail Online’ that Townshend also claimed to have been sexually abused himself and gave this as a possible reason for his interest in child porn: ‘I believe I was sexually abused between the age of five and six and a half when in the care of my maternal grandmother who was mentally ill at the time. I cannot remember clearly what happened, but my creative work tends to throw up nasty shadows – particularly in ‘Tommy”.

So Townshend didn’t encounter sexual abuse throughout his long career and friendships with people who used rent boys and sexually exploited vulnerable people – it happened as a result of a mentally ill grandmother…

The reference to ‘Tommy’ will have been the Uncle Ernie scene, in which Uncle Ernie, a stereotypical dirty old man dressed in a flasher’s mac, molests a ‘deaf, dumb and blind’ boy whilst singing ‘You won’t shout as I fiddle about’. Kids with sensory disabilities are often targeted by people who sexually assault them, but their assailants are as likely to be health and welfare professionals as the Uncle Ernies of the world – Uncle Ernies don’t usually have unsupervised access to disabled kids, but Top Docs, Angels, social workers, carers, teachers and others do.

The Torygraph published an article in which Townshend maintained that he had only accessed the child porn site to demonstrate that British banks were channelling child porn profits. Which they may well be, but I’m not sure that using your credit card to access the sites yourself and join in the fun is quite the way to expose what the banks are doing. Townsend stated that ‘I felt I had an understanding, and I could help’. Which is exactly what Dr Dafydd Alun Jones said on every occasion that he was challenged after being caught doing something unacceptable.

Townshend was also quoted in the Torygraph as saying that he suffered from ‘White Knight Syndrome’. I have never heard of such a condition, but according to Townshend, it afflicts those ‘who like to be seen to be helping’. I don’t know if White Knight Syndrome will be appearing in DSM soon, but Dafydd is clearly a fellow sufferer. During every investigation into Dafydd, his explanation for whatever serious malpractice he was involved has been ‘I was only trying to help’. He even went on TV and said that after Mary Wynch won her case and accompanied it with the comment ‘I found myself in this bizarre situation’. Then bugger me if Dafydd didn’t say exactly the same thing to Robert Bluglass after I complained about him – ‘Well I found myself in this bizarre situation and I was only trying to help’.

Dafydd – take it from me, if you do not threaten women and then have them unlawfully arrested and imprisoned in psychiatric hospitals when they fail to succumb to your threats, you will find yourself in far fewer bizarre situations and you will not need to help quite so often. It’ll save you a lot of bother and it will be far cheaper for whichever organisation is stupid enough to employ you, because legal fees do mount up when Top Docs find themselves in bizarre situations and try to help in this manner.

 

Townshend was also quoted in one press report as saying that he had been accused of being a paedophile because he had a big nose. Not only is Peter Townshend’s nose not that big, but I rather suspect that the reason for the cloud of suspicion was his accessing a child porn website rather than his nose. As was said in Monty Python’s Life of Brian, ‘blessed are the big noses’ – a film which was co-authored by and starred Graham Chapman, a man who enjoyed sex with underaged boys (see post ‘Inside Information About A Hergest Unit Death’). Chapman didn’t claim to be undertaking research when he was questioned by the police, he just told them to take a running jump because he was a Top Doctor. Chapman qualified at Bart’s, which was where Dafydd’s protector Prof Linford Rees worked for years (see post ‘A Galaxy Of Talent’).

Townshend’s wiki entry doesn’t mention that caution for child porn and the five years on the sex offenders register, but it does have a great deal about his charidee work and explains that in 1974 Pete played a benefit show which was organised to raise funds for the Camden Square Community Play Centre.

The earliest public example of Townshend’s charidee work was in 1968, when he donated the use of his former Wardour Street apartment to the Meher Baba Association. The following year, the Association was moved to another Townshend-owned apartment in Eccleston Square. Townshend sat on a committee which oversaw the operation and finances of the centre.

In 1969 and 1972, Townshend produced two limited-release albums, Happy Birthday and I Am, for the London-based Baba Association. This led to 1972’s Who Came First, 15 percent of the revenue of which went to the Baba Association. In 1976 there was a further release, With Love. A boxed set of all three limited releases on CD, Avatar, was released in 2000, with all profits going to the Avatar Meher Baba Trust in India, which provided funds to a dispensary, school, hospital and pilgrimage centre.

In July 1976, Townshend opened Meher Baba Oceanic, a London activity centre for Baba followers, which featured film dubbing and editing facilities, a cinema and a recording studio. The centre also served as a regular meeting place for Baba followers. Townshend offered very economical lodging for American followers who needed an overnight stay on their pilgrimages to India. Townshend wrote in a 1977 Rolling Stone article:

Townshend also embarked on a MEFA, the Meher Baba European Film Archive, project dedicated to the collection, restoration and maintenance of Meher Baba-related films.

Townshend has been a champion of children’s charities. The debut of Pete Townshend’s stage version of ‘Tommy’ in San Diego’s in July 1992 was earmarked as a benefit for the London-based Nordoff-Robbins Music Therapy Foundation, an organisation which helps children with autism and intellectual disability.

Townshend performed at a 1995 benefit organised by Paul Simon at Madison Square Garden’s Paramount Theatre for the Children’s Health Fund. The following year, Townshend performed at a benefit for the annual Bridge School Benefit, a California facility for children with severe speech and physical impairments, with concerts organised by Neil and Pegi Young. In 1997, Townshend established a relationship with Maryville Academy, a Chicago area children’s charity. Between 1997-02, Townshend played five benefit shows for Maryville Academy, raising at least $1,600,000. His 1998 album ‘A Benefit for Maryville Academy’ was made to support their activities and proceeds from the sales of his release were donated to them.

As a member of ‘The Who’, Townshend has also performed a series of concerts, beginning in 2000, to benefit the Teenage Cancer Trust in the UK, which raised several million pounds. In 2005, Townshend performed at New York’s Gotham Hall for Samsung’s ‘Four Seasons of Hope’, an annual children’s charity fundraiser. In the same year, he donated a smashed guitar to the Pediatric Epilepsy Project.

On 4 Nov 2011, Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend launched the Daltrey/Townshend Teen and Young Adult Cancer Program at the Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center in Los Angeles, to be funded by The Who’s charity ‘Who Cares’. The launch, followed on 5 November by a fund-raising event, was also attended by Robert Plant and Dave Grohl. 

Townshend has also advocated for drug rehabilitation. In a 1985 radio interview, he said:

You’ll be delighted to know Pete that Dafydd comes highly recommended by class A drug users. As one said to me – after he’d served a prison sentence for armed robbery – ‘DA’s great, he’ll give you anything that you want, anything that you ask for. And he’ll always give you a  good for court report’.

The ‘large clinic’ to which Townshend was referring to was a plan he and drug rehabilitation experimenter Meg Patterson had devised to open a drug treatment facility in London; however, the plan failed to come to fruition. Two early 1979 concerts by ‘The Who’ raised £20,000 for Patterson’s Pharmakon Clinic in Sussex.

Further examples of Townshend’s drug rehabilitation activism took place in the form of a 1984 benefit concert, an article he wrote a few days later for the ‘Mail on Sunday’ urging better care for the nation’s addicts and the formation of a charitable organisation, Double-O Charities, to raise funds for the causes he’d championed. Townshend also sold fund-raising anti-heroin T-shirts at a series of UK Bruce Springsteen concerts and reportedly financed a trip for former Clash drummer Topper Headon to undergo drug rehabilitation treatment. Townshend’s 1985–86 band, ‘Deep End’, played two benefits at Brixton Academy in 1985 for Double-O.

In 1979 Townshend donated his services to Amnesty when he performed three songs for its benefit show ‘The Secret Policeman’s Ball’. That was of course the event at which Peter Cook performed his wonderful satire ‘Entirely a Matter For You’ in which he sent up the summing up of the judge who presided over Jeremy Thorpe’s trial. Cook’s performance included memorable lines about the  hitman not even being able to carry out a simple murder plot without cocking the whole thing up and a man with a criminal past but no criminal future…

Why am I reminded of Huw Daniel every time that I watch ‘Entirely a Matter For You?’

Townshend had been invited to perform for Amnesty by Martin Lewis, the producer of ‘The Secret Policeman’s Ball’, who stated later that Townshend’s participation had been the key to his securing the subsequent participation for Amnesty (in the 1981 sequel show) of Sting, Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, Phil Collins and Bob Geldof.

 

Townshend’s band mate Keith Moon was an old flame of Kathy Ethingham’s. I won’t recite in detail the highlights of Moon the Loon’s life here – readers will no doubt be aware of the Rolls Royce in the swimming pool,  the wrecked hotel rooms, the TVs chucked out of the window because the hotel staff were not up to Moon’s exacting requirements, the explosions in the bogs etc, but there are a few aspects of Moon’s life and death that are worth mentioning.

Keith Moon had a very serious drug and alcohol problem which by the end of his life was said by his friends to have sent him quite mad – Moon’s mates might have been describing an amphetamine-induced psychosis. Moon died in Sept 1978 of an overdose of Heminevrin, a drug prescribed to combat alcohol abuse. Heminevrin was routinely prescribed to people withdrawing from alcohol – although I’m not sure whether that is still the case. The problem with Heminevrin is – like so many drugs prescribed to people who are prone to not being particularly stable – that Heminevrin is lethal if not used properly.

By the time that Moon was given a massive quantity of Heminevrin to take home and play with, his excesses were very well known and had been the subject of much media coverage. Some very nasty things had also happened to some of the people associated with Keith Moon.

On 4 Jan 1970 Moon accidentally killed his friend, driver and bodyguard, Neil Boland, outside the Red Lion pub in Hatfield. Pub patrons had begun to attack his Bentley and Moon, drunk, began driving to escape them. During the fracas, he hit Boland. After an investigation, the coroner ruled Boland’s death an accident and Moon received an absolute discharge after being charged with a number of offences. Those close to Moon said that he was haunted by Boland’s death for the rest of his life and Moon had nightmares about the incident and said he had no right to be alive.

I’d be interested to find out how on earth Keith Moon got out of that one, even if he did feel terrible about it afterwards. As someone who was fined £60 for staring at a colleague of a paedophile gang who had unlawfully imprisoned me after encountering her in a supermarket (see post ‘Some Big Legal Names Enter The Arena’), I am confident that if I had run over and killed someone whilst pissed, I would receive a little more that an absolute discharge.

In 1973 Moon’s wife Kim, convinced that neither she nor anyone else could moderate Keith’s behaviour, left Moon and took their daughter. Kim sued for divorce in 1975. Moon’s friends stated that Moon ‘couldn’t handle’ Kim leaving him and that she was ‘the only woman he loved’. So obviously to show how much he loved her, Moon harassed Kim with phone calls and on one occasion before Kim sued for divorce, sent several heavies in pursuit of her, forcing Kim to hide in a walk-in closet after the thugs broke into her home. Kim died in a car accident in Texas in Aug 2006.

In 1975 Moon began a relationship with model Annette Walter-Lax. She begged Malibu neighbour Larry Hagman (JR of ‘Who shot JR?’ fame) to check Moon into a clinic to dry out (as he had attempted to do before), but when doctors recorded Moon’s chemical intake at breakfast – a bottle of champagne, Courvoisier and amphetamines – they concluded that there was no hope for his rehabilitation.

Hagman had a long and successful TV career in the US and in the UK. He knew many of those who hung out with Dafydd’s umbrella Linford Rees’s actress daughter Angharad Rees and her husband Christopher Cazenove (see post ‘A Galaxy Of Talent’).

Early in The Who’s career, Moon got to know The Beatles. He would join them at clubs, forming a particularly close friendship with Ringo Starr. The Ringo who was a neighbour of one of F’s friends…Moon later became friends with Viv Stanshall, a man who was networked with Graham Chapman et al and who died in odd circumstances in March 1995, before there was any chance of him blabbing in the wake of the Waterhouse Report (see post ‘ The International Language Of Screaming’). In the early 1970s Moon helped Stanshall with his ‘Radio Flashes’ radio show for BBC Radio 1, filling in for the vacationing John Peel. Subsequently, in 1973, Moon himself filled in for John Peel in ‘A Touch of the Moon’. The John Peel who went to school in Deganwy in north Wales and who was later so helpful in creating rock stars out of the offspring of the paedophiles’ friends in the run up to the Waterhouse Inquiry and the publication of the Waterhouse Report (see post ‘The International Language Of Screaming’).

In 1974, Moon struck up a friendship with the drunken git Oliver Reed of ‘I’ve got a tattoo on my penis, would you ladies like to see it?’ fame. The Ollie who wrestled naked in mud with other men, lest anyone might suspect him of having homophilic tendencies.  

Keith Moon was mates with Graham Chapman who, as well as regularly visiting north Wales with his 13 year old ‘adopted son’, used to dip his penis – presumably untattooed – in folk’s drinks in pubs near his house in Belsize Park. He didn’t receive a kick in the carregs because he wasn’t in Wetherspoons in Caernarfon, he was a zany Python within spitting distance of Hamptead, so it was OK.

In mid-1978 Moon moved into a flat in Curzon Place, Mayfair, renting from singer Harry Nilsson. (The wiki entry for Nilsson states that he died of a heart attack in 1994 at 52 years of age – which is a bit weird because I can remember when he was found dead and I seem to remember that the media reports stated that it was thought that he’d killed himself. Nilsson was a close friend of Ringo.) The singer Cass Elliot had died in the same flat four years earlier, at the age of 32. Cass’s wiki entry states that she too died of a heart attack. Curiouser and curiouser – Cass Elliot definitely choked to death, on, I understand, a ham sandwich. I wonder if someone has been busy amending wiki? Nilsson was concerned about letting the flat to Moon, believing it was cursed. Townshend disagreed, assuring him that ‘lightning wouldn’t strike the same place twice’.

After moving in, Moon began a prescribed course of Heminevrin. He wanted to get sober, but he had a fear of psychiatric hospitals – very wise – so he wanted to detox at home. Heminevrin is discouraged for unsupervised detox  because of its addictive potential, its tendency to induce tolerance and the risk of death when mixed with alcohol. The pills were prescribed by Dr Geoffrey Dymond, a Top Doctor from Harley Street. Dymond prescribed a bottle of 100 pills, instructing Moon to take one pill when he felt a craving for alcohol but not more than three pills per day.

On 6 Sept 1978 Moon and Annette dined with the McCartneys in Covent Garden, after a party. David Frost was a guest at the party – the Frost who conveniently pegged out on a cruise in Aug 2013 in the midst of Operation Pallial and the Macur Review and who’s death was followed by the sudden death of his 31 year old Miles not long afterwards (see post ‘The International Language Of Screaming’). Moon watched a film – ‘The Abominable Dr Phibes’ no less – and asked Annette to cook him steak and eggs. When she objected, Moon replied, ‘If you don’t like it, you can fuck off’. He then took 32 Heminevrin tablets. When Annette checked on Moon the following afternoon, she found him dead.

Police determined that there were 32 Heminevrin pills in Moon’s system. Six were digested, sufficient to cause his death; the other 26 were undigested when he died. Max Glatt – one of many Top Docs who has previously starred on this blog (see post ‘A Galaxy Of Talent’) – wrote in The Sunday Times that Moon should never have been given the drug.

When Moon’s friends discovered how lethal Heminevrin is in overdose they were all baffled as to why the Abominable Dr Dymond prescribed so many for him. The Abominable Dr Dymond maintained that he was ‘unaware’ of Moon’s lifestyle.

In 1978 I was a school girl in Somerset. Even I knew about Keith Moon’s lifestyle, as did my friends and I had never been to London in my life, so how the Rolls Royces in the swimming pools etc escaped Geoffrey Dymond’s notice I don’t know.

Interviews with Moon’s mates suggest that they put a great deal of trust in Dymond and his abilities to ‘look after’ Keith Moon and just assumed that the Top Doctor had made an inexplicable error. I am happy to tell Moon’s surviving friends that a lot of Top Docs detest patients a lot less twattish than Keith Moon – and by the time that he died, Moon really was a twat of the highest order who had pissed off a great many people. Whilst working in medical research and in my capacity as a patient I have heard Top Docs and their associates express such callous attitudes towards patients and follow this up with criminally negligent conduct of such a magnitude that the general public would not believe that it ever happens.  Take it from me, they help people on their way. I have heard the most shocking comments made by Top Doctors after distressed colleagues – let alone patients – of theirs have killed themselves and I know of at least three suicides of mental health patients which could have been avoided with very little effort but that effort was quite deliberately not made. When faced with someone like Keith Moon, a lot of Top Doctors really could not give a fuck.

How are you Dafydd and Keith Fearns? Is it not ironic that it was Tony Francis who committed suicide rather than me? You didn’t expect that did you? Christ almighty, all I did was complain about Gwynne the lobotomist and catch Tony Francis out on a lie and WW III was declared. To paraphrase Morrissey : ‘They bear more grudges/Than lonely High Court judges’…

 

F repeatedly told me, whilst he related anecdotes from his youth in the bosom of Ringo et al, that ‘they hated us’.

 

Another bedfellow of Kathy Etchingham’s was Brian Jones, the original leader of the Rolling Stones. F always maintained that Brian Jones was murdered. Jones died in July 1969 – he was found motionless at the bottom of his pool at Cotchford Farm. His girlfriend Anna Wohlin maintained that Jones was still alive when he was taken out of the pool but Top Doctors arrived at the scene ‘too late’ and pronounced him dead. The verdict was of death by misadventure. It was Sussex Police who stood accused of failing to investigate the allegations that Jones was murdered or to have even concealed a murder.

Brian Jones was someone else who developed drug and alcohol problems and was identifiably quite seriously mentally ill by the time that he died.

Brian Jones seems to have been treated very callously by many of those around him. When asked if he felt guilty about Jones’ death, Mick Jagger told ‘Rolling Stone’ in 1995: ‘No, I don’t really. I do feel that I behaved in a very childish way, but we were very young and in some ways we picked on him. But, unfortunately, he made himself a target for it; he was very, very jealous, very difficult, very manipulative and if you do that in this kind of a group of people you get back as good as you give, to be honest. I wasn’t understanding enough about his drug addiction.’ 

Ah well Brian Jones was manipulative unlike Mr Clean Mick, so who gives a stuff that he was treated badly and found dead in suspicious circumstances. Mick is now what Viz magazine calls a ‘shag relative’ of Rupert Murdoch ie. Mick has shagged someone that Murdoch has shagged. Or at least married. So I doubt that we’ll be reading much about any interpretation of Jones’s character other than that he was ‘manipulative’ and people ‘didn’t understand’.

 

Kathy also had a relationship with Georgie Fame. Georgie is still alive but his wife Nicolette, the Marchioness of Londonderry, isn’t. Her body was found beneath the Clifton Suspension Bridge in Aug 1993 and it was assumed that she had jumped. At the time, it was reported that Nicolette was seen on the bridge, approached someone, gave them her name and asked them to ‘raise the alarm’. Whether they did or not I don’t know – Nicolette’s body was found later. A statement was given to the media explaining that Nicolette had been under the care of an expensive Top Doctor because she was distraught at the menopause and by her children leaving the nest. As someone who has now had a menopause, I can confirm that there is no need to even bother to read the volumes of rubbish that are published by the likes of Miriam Stoppard to ‘guide one through it’, let alone chuck oneself off the Clifton Suspension Bridge, it really is not that much of a big deal if you keep away from Top Doctors recommending unnecessary things like HRT. Some people do feel bereft when their children leave home, but women are no longer put in the dustbin when that happens and a lot of them have a great time, particularly if they’re a Marchioness. I cannot help suspecting that there might have been something far more serious worrying Nicolette than the menopause and the kids moving out.

Georgie Fame’s first job was at Butlins in Pwllheli. Like Kathy Etchingham, he went to London and the age of 16 and hit the music scene.

August 1993. Just before the North Wales Police wound up their investigation into the possible existence of a VIP paedophile ring in north Wales and declared that there was no evidence of any such thing.

 

The coroner who carried out the inquest into the death of Jimi Hendrix was Lt Col Gavin Thurston. Thurston was educated at Dulwich College and Guy’s Hospital Medical School. He served in the RAMC from 1939-45 in India and NW Europe. Thurston was called to the Bar in 1952 but never practised.

Thurston came under the influence of an older Guy’s man, Percy Barnard Skeels, a solicitor of the City firm of Hoddinott & Skeels, then HM coroner to metropolitan Essex. Thurston was appointed as Skeels’s deputy in 1949. He was appointed as Westminster coroner in 1956 and occupied this post until his death in 1980. Thurston served as Treasurer, Secretary and President to the Coroner’s Society and was President of the Medico-Legal Society in 1969. He was a member of the British Academy of Forensic Sciences and for a short period a lecturer at the West London Medical School. Thurston sat on the Council of the MDU, 1960-80.

Thurston lived in Sussex and was married to Janet, another Top Doctor who specialised in community medicine. Janet accompanied Thurston to medico-legal and forensic meetings. After Thurston died, in 1982 Janet married a colleague of Thurston’s, the pathologist Professor Keith Simpson, who also spent a career investigating suspicious deaths that could prove difficult for high profile people. More details about Keith Simpson can be found in my post ‘Oh, No! It’s The Pathetic Sharks…’.

Thurston had a son, John, who was also a Top Doctor. A Dr John Thurston, an A&E Top Doctor at Joyce Green Hospital, Dartford, contributed to one of those regular BBC News Online reports regarding How Fucking Daft All The Patients Are. Top Doc Thurston was able to tell the BBC that ‘people really can be stupid’. The Top Docs are often somewhat conflicted over the intelligence of patients. Top Doctor Devakumar, one of the paedophiles’ friends who was employed at the Hergest Unit for many years, once yelled at me ‘you are stupid’ because I did insist on complaining about Dafydd. Yet Devakumar was also a signatory to the documents detailed in previous blog posts in which the BMA, MDU and many other people were told that I was a wicked genius who needed to be banged up in a secure unit asap. Perhaps I should consider myself fortunate – in one ward round Devakumar rolled up his sleeves and told a male patient that he’d fight him whenever he wanted.

‘As experienced psychiatrists we are used to patients who are aggressive to us and have training in de-escalation techniques’ wrote Dr Sadie Francis in one letter to Hempsons, detailing the problem that was me, after Hempsons had written to her and Tony Francis and them that they were ‘over-reacting’ and strongly advised them not to pursue litigation against me.

De-escalation techniques – ‘SCRAAAAP’…

 

At the time of writing, ‘The Guardian’ website features yet another article about Dangerous Psychiatric Patients attacking Top Doctors and Angels. It is a ‘global problem’ according to ‘The Guardian’.

 

Gavin Thurston was certainly Coroner to the Stars. His cases included Keith Moon, Cass Elliot, Stephen Ward (the scapegoat of the Profumo Affair – see post ‘In Memoriam – Bronwen, Lady Astor’), Judy Garland, Professor Gordon Fairley, Airey Neave, Sandra Rivett (Lord Lucan’s nanny) and Georgi Markov.

 

 

The Top Doctor who carried out the autopsy on Hendrix was pathologist Dr Donald Teare. Teare was from the Isle of Man and his father was a newspaper proprietor who also became a member of the House of Keys. Teare was educated at King William’s College on the Isle of Man and Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge. He trained at St George’s Hospital Medical School. Teare began his career as a lecturer in forensic medicine at Bart’s Hospital Medical College. He was Reader and then Professor of Forensic Medicine at Charing Cross Hospital Medical School, 1963-75. Teare was also a lecturer at the Metropolitan Police College, Hendon. He served as President of the MDU and President of the British Association of Forensic Medicine; President of the Association of Forensic Pathologists; President of the Medico-Legal Society, 1965-66. Teare was given a personal Chair in the University of London in 1968.

Donald Teare worked on many celebrity corpses and his famous cases included the murder of Beryl Evans and her baby Geraldine – for which Timothy Evans was hanged only to be posthumously cleared – and Podola (see post ‘The Discovery Of A Whole New Galaxy…’). Together with Prof Keith Simpson and Prof Francis Camps, Teare was one of the ‘Three Musketeers’, who dealt with almost all the suspicious deaths in the London area. Teare retired in 1975 and in Jan 1979 on the Isle of Man, at the age of 67.

Teare’s wife Kathleen was a magistrate in London.

The Royal College of Physicians website ‘Lives of the Fellows Online’ section informs us that Donald Teare was ‘much respected and loved – a combination not always achieved by men of distinction in medicine’. Someone’s been telling porkies then, because a read through the Royal College of Physicians ‘Lives of the Fellows Online’ reveals numerous distinguished Top Docs who were outstandingly brilliant, wonderful with patients, revered by everyone and had hearts of gold. In the cases of Top Doctors who were so obnoxious that even the Royal College of Physicians can’t pass them off as being lovely, it is stressed that they were really just very shy and no-one knew that within the complete bastard was a cuddly fluffy bunny. It was a CK Simpson who wrote Teare’s ‘Lives of the Fellows’ entry, who I suspect was Keith Simpson, Teare’s mate.

Thurston and Teare were both Top Docs to Scotland Yard and the Royal Family. Thurston was Deputy Coroner to the Royal Household.

 

I really am looking forward to reading Dafydd’s obituaries. A friend has already instructed me to pay a special tribute to Dafydd on this blog when he finally turns his toes up. When Lucille pegs out I could write a little piece along the lines of ‘together in heaven for ever’…

 

Professor Francis Camps was the son of Dr Percy William Leopold Camps, a GP and surgeon. Camps was educated at Marlborough College, followed by Guy’s Hospital. He went on to postgraduate studies at the Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine and the Neuchâtel University, Switzerland. Camps took up the post of pathologist at the Chelmsford and Essex Hospital. He was Reader and then Professor of Forensic Medicine at the London Hospital Medical School; President of the International Association of Forensic Scientists; President of the British Association and Secretary General, British Academy of Forensic Sciences.

Camps worked on, amongst others, the Dr John Bodkin Adams case in 1956 where he identified 163 suspicious deaths and was an expert witness in the trial the following year. However, Adams was acquitted of murdering one of his patients, owing to lack of evidence of motive, among other uncertainties. Harriet Harman’s father Dr John  Harman gave evidence supportive of Bodkin Adams, although Harman had very little experience in the matters on which he gave ‘expert evidence’.

Camps gave evidence during the trial of John Christie in 1953, having produced a detailed and comprehensive report on the many bodies found at 10 Rillington Place. The bodies were well preserved and so much relevant information could be gleaned from their condition. His report showed a consistent pattern of attack by Christie, most of the intact victims having been sexually molested and strangled. Beryl and Geraldine Evans had alone been strangled and their bodies were exhumed to be re-examined for Christie’s trial – by then Timothy Evans had already been convicted of their murders and hanged.

The skeletal remains of Christie’s older victims buried in the back garden at Rillington Place provided less information, although it proved possible to identify the women involved. There could be little doubt that Christie had murdered them all, that Timothy Evans was innocent and that he had been wrongly executed. The forensic and witness evidence pointed to a serious miscarriage of justice, although it was contested by a series of lawyers and politicians well after the events.

Several authors, including Ludovic Kennedy, pointed out the many contradictions and errors in the Crown’s case and the innocence of Evans is now widely accepted, by the public, experts and by the Crown itself.

 

Thurston and Teare were involved in having the final say regarding a few other suspicious celebrity deaths as well.

Tara Browne died in a car crash in Chelsea in 1966 – she was a friend of Paul McCartney’s. Jane Asher was Paul McCartney’s girlfriend whose dad Dr Richard Asher’s body was found in 1969 in the basement of the family home at Wimpole Street after he had been missing for days. It was deemed that Dr Asher died by suicide. McCartney had previously lived at the Asher’s Wimpole Street home in the mid-60s. Dr Asher was an endocrinologist and haematologist with an interest in the physical fators contributing to mental illness. He was the senior physician responsible for mental observations at the Central Middlesex Hospital but for some reason in 1964 his job was given to a psychiatrist. Asher was so upset by this that he effectively gave up medicine. In my experience this sort of thing is usually a consequence of war being declared upon someone who has fallen foul of their colleagues, rather than bearing any relation to their clinical skills. Dr Asher had possible connections with Profumo via Stephen Ward.

 

Donald Teare also performed the autopsy on Brian Epstein, the manager of ‘The Beatles’ and Cilla Black. Epstein died in Aug 1967, at his home in Kingsley Hill.

Epstein’s homosexuality was not publicly known until some years after his death, although it had been an open secret among his friends and business associates. Whilst Epstein was in the Army, he commissioned a tailor to make an officer’s uniform for him that he wore when cruising the bars of London, but was arrested one night by the Military Police for impersonating an officer. Epstein managed to avoid a court martial by agreeing to see an Army psychiatrist, who learned of Epstein’s sexuality. After 10 months he was discharged from the Army for being ’emotionally and mentally unfit’. 

Epstein spent a year studying acting at RADA, but dropped out shortly after his arrest for ‘persistent importuning’ outside a men’s public toilet in Swiss Cottage. McCartney said that when Epstein started to manage The Beatles they knew that he was homosexual but did not care, because he encouraged them professionally and offered them access to previously ‘off-limits’ social circles. John Lennon was often sarcastic about Epstein’s homosexuality but no-one outside the inner circle was allowed to comment. Ian Sharp, one of Lennon’s art school friends, when talking about Epstein, asked, ‘Which one of you [Beatles] does he fancy?’ Sharp was sent a letter by Epstein’s office within 48 hours that demanded a complete apology. Sharp apologised but received a letter from McCartney directing him to have no contact with any of them in the future. Epstein went on holiday to places such as Amsterdam, Torremolinos and Barcelona or Manchester at weekends, as the attitude to gays there was more tolerant than Liverpool.

In his autobiography, Pete Best, a close associate of The Beatles, stated that one evening Epstein expressed his ‘very fond admiration’. Epstein then supposedly said, ‘Would you find it embarrassing if I ask you to stay in a hotel overnight?’ Best replied that he was not interested and the two never mentioned the incident again. There were reports of a brief sexual encounter between Lennon and Epstein during a four day holiday in Barcelona in April 1963, although Lennon always denied the rumours. Male homosexual activity was not decriminalised in England and Wales until one month after Epstein’s death.

Epstein used stimulants, usually Preludin, which did not require a prescription at the time. Lennon, McCartney, Harrison, and Starr also used it. Epstein developed dependencies on carbromal, a barbiturate-like sedative/hypnotic drug.

In 1964 Epstein was introduced to cannabis by Bob Dylan. Epstein later became heavily involved in the 1960s drug scene. Whilst the Beatles’ album Sgt Pepper was being recorded, Epstein spent his time on holiday, or at the Priory Clinic in Putney, where he tried unsuccessfully to curb his drug use. 

In June 1967, after McCartney had admitted to LSD use, Epstein defended him to the media, stating that he had taken the drug, too.

Epstein attended a traditional shiva in Liverpool after his father died, having just come out of the Priory Clinic where he had been trying to cure his acute insomnia and addiction to amphetamines. On 24 Aug 1967 Epstein asked Peter Brown and Geoffrey Ellis down to Kingsley Hill – Epstein’s country home in Warbleton Sussex – for the weekend. After they arrived, Epstein decided to drive back to London alone because an expected group of rent boys he had invited failed to arrive, although they did turn up after Epstein left. Epstein phoned Brown at 5 pm the next day from his Chapel Street house in London. Brown thought that Epstein sounded ‘very groggy’, and suggested that he take a train back instead of driving under the influence of Tuinals. Epstein replied that he would eat something, read his mail and watch Juke Box Jury before phoning Brown to tell him which train to meet. He never called again.

Epstein died of an overdose of the barbiturate Carbitral in his locked bedroom, on 27 August 1967. He was discovered after his butler had knocked on the door and then hearing no response asked the housekeeper to call the police. Epstein was found on a single bed, dressed in pyjamas, with various correspondence spread over a second single bed. At the inquest his death was ruled an accident, caused by a gradual buildup of Carbitral in his system, combined with alcohol. The Beatles were in Bangor at the time, with the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. Epstein had previously agreed to travel to Bangor after the August Bank Holiday. The second of two shows by Jimi Hendrix at Epstein’s Saville Theatre was cancelled on the evening of his death.

Peter Brown wrote in his memoir that he had once found a suicide note written by Epstein and had spoken with him about it. According to Brown the note read in part, ‘This is all too much and I can’t take it any more’. Brown had also found a will made by Epstein. When confronted with the notes, Epstein told Brown that he would be grateful if Brown did not tell anyone. He explained that when he wrote the note and composed the will he had simply taken one pill too many, and that he had no intention of overdosing, promising to be more careful in the future. Epstein’s doctor, Norman Cowan, was prescribing the drugs. The coroner, Thurston, told the Westminster inquest that Epstein’s death was caused by an overdose of Carbitral, and ruled it as an accidental death. The pathologist, Teare, stated that Epstein had been taking bromide in the form of Carbitral for some time and that the barbiturate level in Epstein’s blood was a ‘low fatal level’.

Bromide was famously used by Top Docs to suppress the sexual urges of men who were suspiciously gay, although Top Docs often deny this.

The Beatles did not attend Epstein’s funeral, both to allow his family some privacy and to avoid attracting fans and the media. Epstein was buried in the Long Lane Jewish Cemetery, Aintree. The service at the graveside was held by Rabbi Dr Norman Solomon, who stated that Epstein was ‘a symbol of the malaise of our generation’.

Whatever Epstein did paled into insignificance when compared to that cartel of Top Doctors.

 

It is worth discussing another Top Doctor who was called upon the investigate many suspicious deaths as well, Professor David Bowen. As Head of Forensic Medicine at Charing Cross Hospital between 1973-89 and Professor of Forensic Medicine at London University from 1977-89, Bowen investigated some 500 cases of murder and suspicious deaths.

In Feb 1983 Det Ch Insp Peter Jay, head of Hornsey CID, arrived at Bowen’s office at Charing Cross and showed him several strips of skin and four small bones which had been recovered from a house in Muswell Hill, where blocked drains had been reported. The strips had a few fine hairs and appeared to have been partially boiled; initially they were thought to have come from the skin of a chicken. But Bowen was certain they were human. Noticing indentations on the surface of the skin, Bowen remarked that it might well have come from someone who had been strangled.

On the strength of Bowen’s advice, the detective returned to north London to await the arrival home from work of Dennis Nilsen, a 37 year old civil servant with the Manpower Services Commission. ‘I’ve come about your drains,’ said Jay.

That evening Bowen was called to make an initial examination of Nilsen’s flat at Cranley Gardens, Muswell Hill and was immediately struck by its unpleasant foetid atmosphere. When he examined two plastic bin bags taken from the wardrobe he found human chest tissue, expertly dissected from the rib cage and an almost complete human torso. He also found the upper half of a second torso with arms but no hands; a decomposed skull; and the freshly decapitated head of Nilsen’s last victim. In total Bowen counted up the major parts of two bodies plus a recently dismembered one which was easily identified by fingerprints. In this case, the head had been parboiled in a stockpot which Nilsen kept on his stove. Nilsen said the other two had died in March and Sept 1982.

At his previous address in Melrose Avenue, Cricklewood, Nilsen had dismembered another 12 victims and buried them under his floorboards. To make way for newcomers as space became tight, he progressively transferred the remains to his garden, burning them on huge bonfires before crushing the residuum with a heavy roller. Bowen and a colleague identified enough bone fragments retrieved from the topsoil to establish that at least six bodies were represented. At Nilsen’s trial, the jury found him guilty on six charges of murder.

At the time, the Nilson case involved the disposal of more bodies by one man than in any other case in British criminal history.

 

I remember the media coverage of the Dennis Nilsen case well. Some of the comments in court regarding Nilsen’s ‘madness’ were very stereotypical and quite farcical and although it was clear that human remains had been found, there was much confusion and speculation over exactly how many people Nilsen was alleged to have killed. Then there was the question that everybody was asking – why were none of the men whom Nilsen was alleged to have killed ever reported missing? The conversation at the time centred around how sad it was that numerous young single homeless men had been murdered by Nilsen and no-one even missed them. Some years after Dennis Nilsen was convicted, I encountered Dr Paul Bowden, one of the ‘experts’ in the Nilsen case. Paul Bowden was one of those called upon the ‘assess’ me when the paedophiles’ friends of north Wales perjured themselves and had me arrested in early 1991. Bowden was one of those who knew about the criminality of Dafydd et al but who said nothing (see post ‘Some Very Eminent Psychiatrists From London…’). Bowden worked at the Maudsley, where Dafydd had ‘trained’ and Bowden had also worked closely with Professor Robert Bluglass, who concealed the criminal conduct of Dafydd, Tony Francis, Gwynedd Social Services et al in 1989 (see post ‘Enter Professor Robert Bluglass CBE’).

Many years ago I found the transcript of a public lecture that Bluglass had given, of a ‘my brilliant career’ type. Bluglass waxed lyrical about murderers that he had known but failed to mention that there was a dearth of evidence in some of the cases that he discussed, there was merely rumour and speculation. Bluglass discussed Dennis Nilsen – the journal in which the lecture was published  was illustrated by photos. Someone had recreated the imagined scene in Dennis Nilsen’s kitchen where he was alleged to have boiled someone’s decapitated head on the stove and for effect there were tufts of hair sticking out from under the saucepan lid. The journal was very complimentary about this touch. Now if one of Bluglass’s patients had done that for a laugh, it would have been recorded in triplicate and used as evidence as to how dangerous that patient was for years to come. In much the same way that Dafydd and Bluglass agreed that I was really quite mad and dangerous because I called Dafydd a wanker, yet Bluglass’s daughter Amanda – who fancies herself as an avant garde artist – can embroider a sampler with ‘Happy Fucking Holidays’ on it and display it on the internet. I don’t mind if Amanda Bluglass wants to do that, but it certainly illustrates that her father was moving goalposts.

Perhaps Dennis Nilsen did invite all those men back to his house, strangle them, have sex with them and then dismember them in the kitchen as alleged. Someone definitely killed someone, there were some human remains found. But beyond that no-one can be sure of anything very much because so many of the ‘experts’ involved were not only out of their depth but endemically corrupt liars as well.

 

Four years after the Nilsen trial, Bowen worked on the Railway Murders, two of which had been carried out by John Duffy and three by his close friend David Mulcahy. In 1988 Duffy had been convicted of two killings but acquitted of a third – that of Anne Lock – because of lack of evidence.

But 10 years into his sentence, Duffy named Mulcahy as his accomplice in some 25 rapes and three murders near suburban railway stations in north London, including the unsolved killing of Mrs Lock. Unlike the other two victims, she had been suffocated by a sock stuffed into her mouth. In Sept 2000 Bowen returned to the Old Bailey to testify about the tape that had bound Mrs Lock’s hands and was cross-examined on exactly how the tape had been fastened to her fingers, corroborating the story that Duffy had given. As a result Mulcahy was convicted of three murders, seven rapes and five counts of conspiracy to rape and given a whole life sentence.

David Bowen was born at Pontycymmer, near Bridgend, south Wales. After Caterham School and Garw Secondary School, Pontycymmer, Bowen completed a medical degree at University College of Wales in Cardiff and took a Master’s at Corpus Christi, Cambridge. He completed his training at Middlesex Hospital Medical School. Bowen was pretty much the same age as Gwynne the lobotomist – who also trained at the Middlesex. Bowen undertook house officer posts at the West Middlesex and London Chest Hospitals and followed them up with two years in the RMAC.

Such is the nepotism among Top Doctors that Bowen will have known Gwynne and Dafydd.

Bowen trained in clinical pathology and histopathology at the Royal Marsden Hospital and in 1957 was appointed as Demonstrator in Forensic Pathology at St George’s Hospital Medical School.

In his memoirs, Bowen recalled how a telephone call and an interview led to a job as ‘bagman’ to Professor Donald Teare. It was a ‘rare chance to gain a foothold in such a specialised sphere’ and Bowen seized it.

Bowen carried out forensic investigations into many notable cases, including the murder of Ross McWhirter who was shot on the doorstep of his north London home by the IRA in 1975; the death of the teacher Blair Peach at an anti-racism demonstration in London in 1979 and the killing of PC Keith Blakelock, hacked to death in the riots on the Broadwater Farm Estate, Tottenham, in 1985. Bowen also conducted autopsies in the wake of the IRA bomb at the Baltic Exchange in London in April 1992.

In 1999 Bowen was asked to provide a report on the case of Roberto Calvi, head of Italy’s Banco Ambrosiano and known as ‘God’s banker’ because of his close ties to the Vatican. Calvi was found hanging below Blackfriars Bridge in 1982. Bowen had been retained by lawyers acting for Italian insurers dealing with a claim by Calvi’s widow on a $4 million life insurance policy. She and her son insisted the banker did not take his own life, as the police had concluded.

Bowen believed that evidence pointed to Calvi having been forcibly taken to the bridge, possibly by boat, and to his having been the victim of foul play. In 2007 five Italians tried for Calvi’s murder were acquitted.

The Roberto Calvi case is yet another one in which no-one knows what to believe because of the very questionable track records of so many who were involved with it.

Another case of Bowen’s cases was the death in Spandau prison in 1987 of Rudolf Hess. A British consultant surgeon, Hugh Thomas, who attended Hess, sought Bowen’s opinion on the cause of Hess’s death. Bowen scrutinised two separate postmortem reports, one prepared on behalf of the Four Powers (Britain, the United States, the Soviet Union and France) and the other drawn up on behalf of Hess’s family.

The Four Powers believed that the prisoner had hanged himself using electrical cord he had found in a shed. But Bowen agreed with Hess’s son that the alleged method of Hess’s hanging left considerable doubt about the truth of the matter. Suicidal hanging, Bowen noted, usually leaves few marks on the neck or internal tissues because of the invariably short drop. In Hess’s case the autopsy had found bruising in the deeper neck tissues. Such bruising, Bowen reasoned, while unlikely to occur in a case of hanging, is, however, a feature of strangulation.

Bruising to the top of the head – again as found in Hess’s case – is also unlikely to occur in hanging. ‘Doubts must remain’, Bowen concluded, ‘on the reliability of the official statement given concerning the death of Rudolf Hess.’

As well as his London appointments, Bowen was examiner in forensic medicine at the Universities of Saudi Arabia and Colombo, Sri Lanka. David Bowen married, in 1950, Joan Davis, with whom he had two sons and a daughter. Following her death in 1973 he married, in 1975, Helen Landcastle.

Bowen will have been part of the Dafydd and Gwynne network, so once more, who would ever know whether his opinion was worth anything at all.

 

I am left with the possibility that the ‘delusions’ of F are probably as reliable as the expert opinions of the tightly knit bunch of crooks who carried out so many of the autopsies and inquests of those 60s and 70s rock stars. They managed to condemn Timothy Evans to hang, although people were told very clearly at the time that the police had forced a confession out of Evans, had written his statement themselves and that the evidence wasn’t convincing.

The other thing worth noting is that Kathy Etchingham ended up as a Top Doctor’s wife, but when she went to London she was a 16 year old runaway with a troubled background. She was also from Derby – where a paedophile ring with links to Dafydd’s gang in north Wales operated. Hendrix called Kathy his ‘Yoko Ono From Chester’. Did Kathy end up in London via Chester? Chester was a major part of the north Wales sex trafficking network.

 

There is someone who is still very much alive who could fill us all in on many of the mysteries from swinging London who, like Kathy Etchingham, dines out on her status as someone who was at the heart of it all but who experiences brain fades at very convenient moments – Michael Howard’s wife Sandra, who is the former model known as Sandra Paul.

Michael Howard was the Home Secretary who ruined Mary Wynch as she had the temerity to continue her fight after it was admitted that Dafydd did indeed have Mary unlawfully arrested and imprisoned for a year (see post ‘The Mary Wynch Case – Details’).

Sandra was the daughter of an RAF Top Doctor and seemed to have been expected to lead a rather pointless life when she was young, so she went to London and ‘became a model’. Sandra boasts of having been photographed by David Bailey and Norman Parkinson. She knew JF Kennedy, Frank Sinatra – aka Ol’ Mafia Connections – and Bob Dylan.

Like Kathy, Sandra stresses that she was never promiscuous, but Sandra did get through quite a few husbands in quite a short time before she married Michael Howard. Sandra’s first husband was the jazz pianist Robin Douglas-Home, nephew of former PM Alec. Sandra and Robin’s divorce occurred at about the same time as Robin was shagging Princess Margaret. Robin killed himself in 1968 after suffering clinical depression. Someone else whom the Top Docs didn’t manage to do much for then. After she divorced Robin, Sandra married publicist David Wynne-Morgan and once she’d finished with him, he moved onto advertising exec Nigel Grandfield. Whilst married to Grandfield, Sandra was at a charity knees up on behalf of the Red Cross when she met Michael Howard, who was at that time still working as a barrister. Howard and Sandra married in 1975.

Michael Howard began life as Michael Hecht. His mum had lived in Wales from the age of six months but his dad was from Romania. What with the UK being populated by so many bigots, Michael’s dad did what many immigrants did and changed his name. Thus Michael was able to rise to the top of a party containing even more racist bastards than the other parties.

Howard was from south west Wales and went to Llanelli Boys’ Grammar School. He then went to Peterhouse College, Cambridge. Whilst a student, Howard was part of the notorious ‘Cambridge mafia’, along with Ken Clarke et al who later filled Thatcher’s Cabinet. Howard was elected as the MP for Folkestone and Hythe in 1983.

Another Tory of that era who came from the Swansea area was Michael Heseltine. Then there was Geoffrey Howe who was born in Port Talbot, the son of a solicitor and coroner. After Bridgend Prep School, Howe went to school in England then went to Trinity Hall where he too became part of the Cambridge mafia. Howe worked as a barrister on the endemically corrupt Wales and Chester Circuit, along with Ronnie Waterhouse and so many others who concealed the crimes of Dafydd and co. Howe investigated the Ely Hospital Scandal in 1969 – conditions at the North Wales Hospital were known to be worse but there was no investigation. Howe was Solicitor General under Heath, 1970-72. Howe served as MP for Bebington on the Wirral, 1964-66, then for Reigate in Surrey, 1970-74, then for East Surrey, 1974-92.

Geoffrey Howe knew about Dafydd and Gwynne (and of course George Thomas) even before Sir Peter Morrison was elected as MP for Chester and began abusing kids in north Wales and Cheshire.

Geoffrey has turned his toes up but his widow Elspeth is still with us. Elspeth is a peer in her own right – Blair made her a People’s Peer, along with all those paedophiles’ friends. Elspeth was Deputy Chairman of the EOC, 1975-79 – so she’ll have known the paedophiles’ friends who log jammed that organisation them – and was Chair of the Broadcasting Standards Commission. Just in case anyone had thought of screening a TV expose of Dafydd et al…

Do you have anything that you wish to declare Elspeth?

Elspeth is a relative of Camilla, as in the Camilla who is married to Prince Charles.

 

Sandra Howard was interviewed by the ‘Express Online’ in 2014, to promote her novel. Sandra stressed although she drew upon her days as a 60s It Girl for her novel, she’ll never write an autobiography. No, she would never dare.

Sandra told the Express that ‘the invitation to the White House came while she was staying with the British ambassador David Ormsby-Gore and his late wife who was godmother to Sandra’s eldest child, Sholto’.

David Ormsby-Gore aka Lord Harlech was later killed in a car crash. After Lord Harlech did that stint as the US Ambassador, Ormsby-Gores have a habit of dying in unfortunate circumstances. Alice Ormsby-Gore was engaged to Eric Clapton – who was a mate of Hendrix’s – and died of a heroin overdose. Eric has since admitted that he introduced Alice to heroin, treated her appallingly, managed to give up heroin himself and left Alice wrecked. One of the Ormsby-Gores shot himself and Francis Ormsby-Gore – who lived near Harlech rather than at the family seat in Shropshire – showed every sign of having come under attack from the paedophiles’ friends. For the full details of the many suspicious deaths among the last two generations of the Ormsby-Gores and the way in which poor Francis found his life falling apart once he’d been helped by the Top Doctors, see post ’95 Glorious Years!’.

Sandra states that she ‘was invited to the White House at a time when the special relationship was extremely special,’ she says.

Sandra met Ol’ Mafia Connections when she was 20, through a friend of her first husband Robin. Sinatra introduced them to Marilyn Monroe. ‘Frank invited us to California to discuss the idea for a book about him and his music. We were with him much of the next three months. Since he was between girlfriends and looking after Marilyn I met her at social events.’

Through Sinatra, Sandra also met Ava Gardner and Ella Fitzgerald. But Marilyn made the biggest impression: ‘Marilyn had to feel loved by all and wanted by every man in the room,’ recalls Sandra of a dinner party where Sinatra insisted everyone was served ‘telly dinners on individual trays’ and she found herself seated next to Marilyn ‘feeling awash with my own inadequacies’.

Never mind Sandra, you might have been green with envy but Marilyn was found dead in questionable circumstances whilst in the care of Top Docs and the down side of Marilyn wanting to feel loved and wanted by every man in the room – or people believing this of her – was that predators like JF Kennedy and Ol’ Mafia Connections moved in on her.

 

I don’t think that F, the Hergest patient whose life was destroyed by Dafydd and the paedophiles as described in my post ‘Killing Floor – I Know Cos I Was There!’, personally witnessed the death of anyone like Hendrix or Brian Jones, but he did know people who may well have been at or near the scene.

From what F told me, his life only seemed to begin unravelling after his father died. F had begun his life of excess before then, but he seemed to have a great ability to evade the sort of consequences which other people would have experienced. On one occasion F’s car was stopped and surrounded by armed police, after a prank that he and his friends had played with a replica gun at an airport. The gun was definitely not a real one, but pretending to be conducting an armed robbery was the sort of thing that would have landed most young men in prison. F wasn’t even charged. I heard many such tales from F and in passing he used to sometimes comment that the police were always OK about it because ‘they knew my dad and everyone liked my dad’. F’s dad was a Freemason. F used to stress to me that he had no knowledge of his dad ever abusing that position, as far as he could see Freemasonry was just a benevolent charitable organisation. When F’s dad was dying, he was cared for by the Royal Masonic Hospital and after he died the Masons helped the family financially.

After F’s dad died, F’s family suffered very badly. The family business – which had been a thriving one – went tits up in a major way and his mum, who had grown up in south Africa, returned to Capetown because there was nothing left for her in Surrey.

F then found himself constantly threatened and arrested by the police in Surrey and again when he moved to north Wales in 1979. F really enjoyed his recreational chemicals so there was plenty that the police could legitimately have pursued him for, but the police did a bit better than that. F was constantly fitted up for ludicrous offences which he had not committed. By the time that I knew him, this was undoubtedly happening to F because he was being targeted by Dafydd and the paedophiles.

There was another factor in F’s life as well, a factor that I believe F had seriously underestimated – his father-in-law, who was a society dentist in Surrey and was networked to Top Docs in Harley Street. F knew that his father-in-law hated him, although F did get on very well with his mother-in-law. After he married his wife, C, C revealed to F that her father had offered to pay her not to marry him. C was quite rebellious, didn’t get on with her father anyway and although she had a very volatile relationship with F, in many ways they were incredibly close – they are now pensioners and long divorced, but they still see each other. C refused to be bribed by her father. C later told F that after they married, her father gave her what he called ‘running away money’, a sizeable sum to leave F ‘when’ she decided to do that.

C didn’t ever utilise the running away money, but there were certainly traumas. F was constantly ending up in psychiatric hospitals and some of his experiences in those in the south of England before he ever reached the clutches of Dafydd and the North Wales Hospital Denbigh were quite extraordinary. He was nearly murdered by another patient in one hospital and although he was deemed to be far too ill to look after himself, he was discharged because the doctor on duty judged that the patient who had attempted to murder him was very probably going to try it again and they couldn’t keep F safe. So he was discharged onto the streets. Which is a good deal more common than the Top Docs ever admit.

What was happening throughout this time was that F’s father-in-law was conducting a very cosy relationship with the Top Doctors who were ‘caring for’ F. F did find out about this on two occasions and had serious bust-ups with the Top Docs concerned, but F seemed to think that it had only happened on those two occasions. I suspect that it was happening systematically. F did not like Top Doctors and certainly didn’t trust them, but he had no idea of the depths of corruption in medicine, the professional loyalty that Top Docs feel towards each other which nearly always takes priority over patients’ welfare and that the Harley Street crowd are the worst of the lot. F used to comment that his father-in-law was such a greedy horrible man that dentistry was a most inappropriate profession for him – but greedy horrible people working in healthcare are not unusual. When F first told me about his ‘evil’ father-in-law, I took the view that a society dentist probably wouldn’t be overjoyed at his daughter marrying someone with F’s lifestyle so a clash was inevitable. Then a couple of people whom I knew from Bethesda met F’s father-in-law when he visited his daughter and both of these people – one of whom was a conservative wife of a local businessman – remarked to me ‘gosh, C’s father is a really unpleasant man, I couldn’t feel at ease with him’.

I never met C’s dad, but I suspect that he was the sort of cold sadistic martinet that Gwynne the lobotomist was.

F’s in-laws lived in Weybridge in Surrey, as did he before he moved to north Wales.

Geoffrey Howe was a Surrey MP and senior member of Thatcher’s Gov’t whilst Thatcher’s friend and another member of that Gov’t, Sir Peter Morrison, abused kids that Dafydd delivered. The MP for Weybridge throughout many of the years that F did battle with his father-in-law and whilst F found himself banged up and harassed by Dafydd and the paedophiles, was Sir Michael Grylls – dad of the Boy Scout Bear – who, along with Sir Peter Morrison, was involved in the lobbying scandal re Ian Greer Associates (see post ‘Always On The Side Of The Children’).

 

I know how Dafydd works and it is by using corrupt contacts within a corrupt network. I think it highly likely that F found himself fitted up in Risley Remand Centre because of some sort of deal that was done between F’s father-in-law and Dafydd. I am not going to name C here or her father-in-law, because we are talking serious organised crime and C is a potential witness. But there is someone else who I think might have played a role as well – someone who knew how corrupt Dafydd was, who didn’t like him but who was very aware of how comfortable his own life was and how difficult it would be if he crossed Dafydd’s path.

Step forward Jeff Crowther, the former psychiatric nursing manager at the Hergest Unit. Jeff came from Guildford, just down the road from F’s father-in-law and Jeff’s mother still lived in Surrey when Jeff worked at the Hergest.

Jeff: They killed your fucking wife for God’s sake and sent a thug after you. I am in hiding and none of them have ever stood trial. You might be prepared to take this sort of shit from a bunch of gangsters but I am not. Hand yourself in and fess up and whilst you are about it name everybody else involved. I do not know how any of you can live with yourselves, you knew what they were doing to people. It’s not as if they treated you any better, why do you think that Lil ‘never recovered’ once she ended up in the hands of Ysbyty Gwynedd? Just how bloody weak are you all? People DIED so that you could keep your job as an Angel and go to festivals with Gareth and Penny every summer – where you hung out with the rock star children of the paedophile gang… Was it really worth it?

Just call me The Green Green Grass of Home…

Only I don’t think that I am quite so fucking green as a bunch of dickwits who colluded with serious organised crime and I’ll be naming all of them. There was barely one person working in the NHS in north Wales who did not know something about the deaths, the organised sex abuse, the large scale drug trafficking and the en masse embezzlement of NHS funds. How about another interview with the ‘Daily Post’ then suckers, telling the world about all those vicious attacks that you have to endure from the Dangerous Psychiatric Patients? Somehow I don’t think that it’s going to save your bacon.

Perhaps John Mullen, the former CEO of the Gwynedd Community Health Trust, who allowed his staff to conduct themselves in this manner and who failed to investigate every complaint about them, would like to explain what the ‘special arrangement’ with BT that he and his colleagues had going was. A new telephone sir? Of course. Will that be On The Special Arrangement? No need to talk receipts or invoices, just tell us who wants the phone and we’ll install it – the bill will be going to the Trust, no questions asked. Because they’re all a bunch of crooks in the finance dept as well. Hefin Davies, the Chairman of the Trust, Freemason and friends with the crooks of that parish who knew those involved with the massive theft of slate at Penrhyn Quarry will also have known about the Special Arrangement…

 

 

I am still unclear as to why Capitalist Extraordinaire Martin Sorrell resigned in a hurry the other day. Sorrell began his career with Saatchi and Saatchi who have links to the paedophiles’ friends in north Wales (see post ‘The International Language Of Screaming’), but I’ve found a link between Martin Sorrell’s company WPP and dear old Ronnie Waterhouse as well. I’ve nearly finished reading Waterhouse’s autobiography and gosh Ronnie did have a lot of friends in high places, as well as a personal connection with most of the paedophiles’ friends. No wonder William Hague gave Ronnie a call and told him that he would be Chairing the cover-up. I’m planning a mini-series of Ronnie-related posts, Ronnie’s friends and relations are too numerous to be dealt with in only one post. Meanwhile, here’s a little taster.

 

Among Ronnie’s many friends was Woodrow Wyatt, the most dreadful old bigot who advised Thatch and wrote one of those ‘The View From The Bar Stool’ columns for the ‘News Of The World’, telling the working classes why the millionaire Thatch – whose friend and aide Sir Peter Morrison was raping children from north Wales whom Dafydd had delivered to him – was On Their Side.

Woodrow was the Labour MP for Birmingham Aston, 1945-55 although he was also a friend of HM the Queen Lilibet, Thatch and Rupert Murdoch. In 1959 Wyatt was returned as the MP for Bosworth in Leicestershire where he remained for many years. So he will have known about Greville Janner, Frank Beck and the Leicestershire Child Abuse Scandal. Whilst out of Parliament, Wyatt worked as a reporter for ‘Panorama’, in which in 1957 he revealed ballot-rigging in the ETU (Electrical Trades Union). It was through the ETU that Waterhouse got to know Wyatt – Waterhouse represented the ETU in court and curiously, although he lost the first big case that he did for them, he mentioned that from then on the ETU passed much work his way. In the mid-80s Wyatt played a role in the negotiations between Murdoch and the electricians’ union, aiding Murdoch’s move to Wapping. Wyatt opposed sanctions against apartheid South Africa. Like Ronnie Waterhouse, Wyatt was a good friend of Roy Jenkins. Jenkins spent years concealing the wrongdoing of Dafydd et al and in later life acted as an adviser to Tony Blair (see post ‘The Most Dangerous Man In The World – Part I’).

Wyatt’s daughter Petronella worked at ‘The Spectator’ and famously had an affair with Boris Johnson.

Woodrow Wyatt also hung out with Bertrand Russell – Wyatt conducted many interviews with Russell. Russell used to go and have tea with Woodrow and friends at Clough Williams-Ellis’s house at Llanfrothen.

 

In the late 1950s, Ronnie Waterhouse – in between dining at the Savoy (yes, even as a struggling young lawyer Ronnie was a regular at the Savoy and at Glyndebourne and of course at the Waldorf, where Ronnie’s dad used to stay when he went down to London to visit Ronnie) – was a member of a group of people who were mostly drawn from the Labour Party who imaginatively called themselves  ‘The Group’. This was to distinguish themselves from the Bow Group, which was comprised of friends of Ronnie et al – although Ronnie was for quite a while active in the Labour Party (before he became a Liberal), he was also mates with many Tories, including Geoffrey Howe.

The Group thought that they tasted success in 1960, when they renamed themselves ‘The Labour Manifesto Group’ and presented their ideas at the Labour Party Conference. Their 1960 effort was co-authored by Tony Crosland and Philip Williams. Crosland was used by Blair’s mate Ernest Armstrong to conceal child sexual abuse in the north east of England on the part of those who had strong links to Dafydd and the paedophiles in north Wales (see post ‘The Most Dangerous Man In The World – Part III’).

Ronnie stated in his autobiography that ‘two of the main moving spirits’ in The Group were Bill Rodgers and Dick Taverne. Ronnie’s proud boast is that some members of The Group became the nucleus for the Campaign for Democratic Socialism, which supported Hugh Gaitskill. They also ran off and joined Dr Death in the SDP years later. Ronnie himself left the Labour Party when Wilson became leader. Not because Wilson was a crook, but because he was dangerously left wing for Ronnie’s tastes.

 

Ronnie’s biggest lifelong buddy was of course Sir Robin Day, who was just so appalled when Lord Lambton cheerily fessed up to sharing a bed with some call girls and smoking a joint. If only Lambton been molesting kids in care and killing witnesses.

Waterhouse also knew Lord Aberconway, the 2nd Baron, of Bodnant Gardens fame. As did Bertrand Russell – the Aberconways were another family who hung out at Clough’s place and had tea with Bertrand. The 2nd Baron was one of Ronnie’s lawyer colleagues, but as Ronnie observed, Lord Aberconway was such a hopeless lawyer that the Clerk of the Court had to write the summing up and hand it to Lord Aberconway, who would then read it out.

Ronnie ingratiated himself to another north Wales family, the Pennants, who owned an estate not far from Ronnie’s turf at Holywell. The Pennants were an off-shoot of the slave trading Penrhyns of Penrhyn Castle fame. One of the descendants of the Pennants who lived near Ronnie is Antoinette Sandbach, star of this blog. Antoinette is the Tory MP for Eddisbury. Her dad was the highest ranking Freemason in north Wales throughout those years when the North Wales Police found no evidence of a paedophile gang, when Ronnie’s Public Inquiry found only a few Welsh sheep shaggers to blame and when other witnesses were found dead yet no questions were asked. Antoinette’s family have been doing favours for Dafydd and the paedophiles for years – her grandmother Geraldine was the President of the Denbigh branch of the Royal College of Midwives. Antoinette is a barrister. She won’t have dared become an historian with her ancestry. For more details of Antoinette and her proud family see post ‘News Round Up, 19 January 2018’.

 

Ever the one for keeping his eye open as to who around him it might be worth shamelessly toadying to, Ronnie was acutely aware of the presence of the Mostyn family in north Wales. Ronnie observed that Lord Mostyn was only interested in sheepdog trials – with neighbours like Ronnie I imagine that the sheepdogs would be rather better company – but Ronnie didn’t mention another younger member of the Mostyn family whom he will have known of.

Sir Nicholas Mostyn was born in Lagos, Nigeria. Sir Nicholas is a British High Court judge.

Sir Nicholas’s father was a British American Tobacco executive, thus Mostyn grew up in Nigeria, Venezuala and El Salvador. He was educated at Ampleforth College – alongside Edward Stourton. Mostyn studied law at Bristol University.

Mostyn was called to the bar in 1980 and earned the nickname of ‘Mr Payout’ after winning a number of notable cases including representing the wife of footballer Ray Parlour and winning the 1000 day marriage case for the wife of a leading City of London fund manager where no children where involved. Mostyn was retained by Fiona Shackleton in Paul McCartney’s divorce case with Heather Mills. Mostyn has been highly critical of the CSA and undertook pro bono cases involving the CSA where he thought there was an important issue of law involved. Mostyn has said:

The first CEO of the CSA who presided over so many disasters and injustices – some of which led to suicides – was Ros Hepplewhite. Being let loose at the CSA was her reward for those years of sterling service as the CEO of MIND, 1989-92, during which time Ros concealed the crimes of Dafydd and the paedophiles in north Wales as well as elsewhere (see post ‘MIND Are Out For Mental Health – Never For Themselves Of Course’).

(F received communication from the CSA in which he was accused of failing to concern himself with the upkeep of the baby whom the paedophiles had stolen from him. Because F had been bled dry, even the CSA didn’t in the end demand money off him. So then they investigated his new wife to see if they could extract any dosh out of her.)

In 2015, Mostyn was removed from a case after he went against a landmark ruling of the Supreme Court concerning the rights of disabled people (namely that they have the same right to ‘physical liberty’ as non-disabled people).

Mostyn’s bonanzas included that which he won on behalf of Sandra, the wife of Martin Sorrell, a sum of £29m. Mostyn represented Di’s brother Charles Spencer – who’s track record towards female partners is not too brilliant. After losing the right to have the case heard in a closed court session, Spencer was upset at the final settlement. Mostyn, a keen farmer, named his latest batch of seven pigs after his thoughts on the case’s High Court judge, Mr Justice James Munby: James, Munby, Self-regarding, Pompous, Publicity, Seeking, Pillock. Earl Spencer later unsuccessfully sued Mostyn.

Mostyn was the presiding judge over the highly controversial decision a few years ago which authorised an NHS Trust to deliver a child by emergency caesarean section, as the mother was judged to have lacked capacity to have consented to the operation herself. The mother was an Italian citizen who was visiting the UK and during her visit she suffered a severe bipolar episode. The child was later the subject of a care application by Essex County Council. The mother was utterly distraught and pointed to her stable home and family in Italy as the reason why to have done all this was outrageous and damaging. There was much talk of Mostyn having read the opinions of Top Docs and social workers before he made his decision. Unfortunately Sir Nicholas, they lie. If they knew what they were doing and were honest, one could come to sensible decisions on the basis of their opinions, but at the moment that cannot happen.

It was Springfield Hospital who pioneered performing Caesarean sections on women who ‘didn’t know their own minds’. Shortly after I left their clutches in the early 1990s, they performed a Caesarean on a silly young thing who worked as a veterinary nurse and who explained that she had a phobia of hospitals and did not think that she would cope with a hospital birth. She was sectioned, detained at Springfield and given a Caesarean at St George’s against her wishes. It was a disaster. She had a breakdown, couldn’t bond with the baby and over the next few months repeatedly attempted suicide. Her baby was taken into care. She sued and was told that the Top Docs had acted entirely in her best interests and lost the case. She gave an interview at a later date and explained very clearly how her life had been completely destroyed by the actions of Springfield Hospital.

From what I saw at St George’s not long before that event, the silly girl’s care on the delivery suite at St George’s would have probably been OK. A lot of the midwives there were very good, as were most of the Top Docs, although there was a lot of snobbery and casual racism among the Top Docs. One (female) Top Doc told a colleague of mine – another medical researcher – that ‘the midwives are all really thick, especially the black ones’. How bright was the researcher who repeated this in my presence, after berating me for being friends with the midwives? Er – well her boyfriend, a police officer with the Met, had just secured them  and their friends tickets to see ‘The Bangles’ in concert. The police officer had bagged tickets for the front row so that, my colleague told me, ‘the lads can look up the girls skirts’.

I say that most of the Top Docs on the delivery suite were good – most of them were and two of them were actually normal, pleasant people among much lunacy. There was however a Top Doc called Joseph who did all he could to get out of work, including declaring himself to be conscientiously against abortions. It was openly discussed by the other Top Docs that Joseph was anti-abortion because it was one less job for him. Then there was another one who was just as lazy as Joseph but more senior. He engaged me in an interesting conversation about how he went to Ronnie Scott’s several times a week and it was really great, I should try it. I was a little worried throughout this conversation because a midwife kept coming up and asking him to help with a birth because the woman had been pushing for a long while and she seemed to be in trouble. He batted the midwife away three or four times. I thought that if I stopped the conversation perhaps he would take a bit more notice of the now frantic midwife, so I went down to the other end of the ward. The jazz fan continued to sit there, chilling out, he read a newspaper and listened to a bit of music. I then noticed all hell break loose – the patient whom this man had refused to help was now in serious distress and a disabled baby was a very real possibility – WHOOPS, emergency caesarean necessary…

The midwife who’s pleas were ignored for over an hour wasn’t even black. Interestingly enough the jazz fan was, he was Nigerian.

So as long as women giving birth at St George’s managed to avoid the small number of lethal Top Docs – not that they would ever have been given any indication at all that the Doc caring for them was lethal, most patients are incredibly trusting and believe that standards in medicine are high and are robustly enforced and Top Docs always reassure patients of this – they would be OK. So I doubt that it would have been the staff on the delivery suite at St George’s who will have destroyed the veterinary nurse who didn’t know what was best for her.

It will have been Springfield. The brutal, drug-dealing, swearing, screaming Angels of Springfield who were the henchmen for the Top Docs who were concealing a sex trafficking gang, who admitted in writing that they knew that Dafydd was sexually exploiting the patients but agreed with Dafydd that I really was very dangerous when they found out that I knew at least some of what Dafydd was up to (see post ‘Some Very Eminent Psychiatrists From London’).

There was another person doing a PhD at St George’s in the late 80s/early 90s who may well have known about Dafydd et al. This man had previously worked as a psychiatric nurse at Prof Robert Bluglass’s empire in Birmingham, the Reaside Clinic. He had not been very complimentary about Bluglass – he told me that there were wards at the Reaside Clinic which were frankly dreadful but Bluglass ensured that no-one ever visited them. Bluglass concealed Dafydd’s crimes and also was called upon to ‘investigate’ the serious problems at Ashworth and blame the murders, violence and sexual abuse there on the patients rather than the staff (see post ‘Security, Security’).

So Dr Mark Roy, how about making a statement about old Bluglass and his crimes and the many other crimes that you will have gained knowledge of at St George’s, then during your stint in the Dept of Psychiatry at Oxford University – home of Prof Tom Burns and Professor Mark Williams who also concealed the crimes of Dafydd and the paedophiles. After Oxford, Mark Roy bagged himself a job at the Dept of Biobehavioural Health at Pennsylvania State University, but I suspect that Mark left there under a cloud. He is now a senior lecturer in the School of Psychology at the University of Central Lancashire.

 

As for the present Lord Mostyn – he is a young man from Chelsea who owns most of Llandudno.

 

 

The media continue to tell us all that one only has to ‘ask for help’ if one is experiencing mental distress and the fickle finger of suspicion continues to be pointed at men in particular who won’t Talk About It. Even ‘Farming Today’ on Radio 4 a few days ago had an article on male farmers who Won’t Ask For Help.

This is not what I have seen. When I lived in north Wales I knew of men who were desperately begging for help, but as with women, no help would be forthcoming. I am sure that transgender or intersex people would have had no more luck at getting any assistance from the north Wales mental health services. When I was doing my PhD there was a member of staff who worked in Bangor University who was married to a farmer. The farmer became very seriously depressed and both his wife and him begged for help from the Anglesey Community Mental Health Team. He began to talk about killing himself and said that he had thought about how to do this, he would shoot himself. After quite some time of this, the Anglesey CMHT went out to the farm, visited him, offered no help but took away his shotgun. He had another one, as his wife had told them, but they ignored her concerns. Hours later he shot himself dead.

Bridget Lloyd, the Angel who perjured herself in an attempt to have me imprisoned (see post ‘A Solicitor’s Letter From North East Wales MIND’), was a member of the Anglesey CMHT at the time.

The suicide was widely discussed at Bangor University and a lot of people who knew the dead man and his widow were very angry. It was agreed by virtually everyone that it had been sheer inexcusable negligence. I was at a university function a couple of days after the farmer’s suicide and one of his friends, another member of staff, was there, fuming volubly about the idiocy of the mental health services and saying that someone should be sued. The dreadful Professor Tom Corns, latterly of the School of English at Bangor, started arguing the toss, trotting out the line that ‘it’s difficult, looking after people like that’. What the dead man’s friend didn’t know about Tom Corns is that he is married to a social worker, Pat Corns. Pat Corns spent many enjoyable years working as a paedophiles’ friend in north Wales and knew all about the unnecessary deaths, wrongful imprisonments and the child abuse. Tom Corns’s son is a Top Doctor.

I knew a number of other men in north Wales who did try and Talk To Their Doctors but who also got nowhere. I knew one man who developed a very serious drink problem and his wife confided in me that he had begun to get violent when he was drunk. She knew why he was drinking, it was because life had now got too much for him – his mum had killed himself when he was six, his dad hadn’t been able to look after him and he had literally scavenged in bins for food. This took place in rural Gwynedd in the 1970s. Most of the villagers in the village where this family lived knew what had happened to him as a child and they also knew about his alcohol problem. Finally he went to Bethesda surgery to ask for help with his ‘nerves’. He was given a prescription for valium and sent on his way.

His drinking continued and one day he arrived at my place completely bladdered and caused trouble, but didn’t actually damage anything or anyone. I rang the police at Bethesda and explained the problem and said that this man was clearly quite desperate. The policeman stated that he knew the ‘fat bastard’ and that if I wanted him arrested he’d do so. I explained that the fat bastard actually had serious problems and so far was a nuisance but not criminal. The police told me that they couldn’t do anything.

A few weeks later I heard that the same man had been the target of a malicious allegation that he’d sexually harassed a young woman. The basis of the young woman’s allegations that he was sexually dodgy was that he was a naturist who went to nude swimming sessions at the local swimming pool. Another local person went to those nudist swimming sessions as well – a local Top Doctor. I bet that no-one called him a fat bastard when he developed mental health problems or accused him of sexual harassment. Some months later the same young woman made allegations of rape against another man. She later admitted that she had made it all up – but not until he’d been arrested and held in custody on bail. One reason that this young woman’s complaints were taken so seriously by the police in the face of no evidence was her close friendships with a number of police officers. Very close friendships indeed with a number of male police officers – who in return for sex were quite happy to fit up anyone whom she cared to point the finger at. Interestingly enough, the people whom she accused had always crossed the path of the paedophiles’ friends…

Perhaps Donna Maria Morgan would like to tell everyone how she managed to have so many deep and meaningful friendships with so many social workers and police officers in north Wales. She might also like to pay me the £500 that she owes me after bouncing a cheque on me and writing me a letter telling me not to go to the police because she’s got mates everywhere ‘who’ll vouch for me’. Presumably the same mates who vouched for her when an innocent man was imprisoned on the basis of her malicious allegations.

Donna was a good mate of Denise Baker aka Denise Baker McClearns, who was for many years married to a children’s social worker employed by the Anglesey team. Prior to that Denise lived with a coke addict, who I was told, also flogged drugs to fund his habit. It was this man – Malcolm Fox – and Denise who were named by Donna as two of those who would ‘vouch for’ her should I contact the police. Denise later embarked on a career working with mentally ill female prisoners as a member of Prof Louis Appleby’s team on his flagship project re suicide. I was told that Denise was dismissed on the grounds that she was a danger to vulnerable people. So she went straight out and landed another job with vulnerable people…

 

I don’t wish to give the impression here that it was only Top Docs, social workers and police officers who abused or exploited vulnerable people in north Wales. A few other people tried their luck as well. F was a talented artist and before Dafydd et al ruined his life, he used to paint big oil paintings on 6ft canvases. When he was living in the south of England he used to sell them for several thousand pounds each. The market was far more difficult in north Wales because there were far fewer people with high disposable incomes, so F ended up with about eleven big canvases stored in his home.

In about 1993, two business graduates from Bangor University set up a cafe in Bangor called The Fat Cat and weeks they later opened another one in Chester. They made a deal with F that they would display his paintings in the Chester cafe – F might make a sale and meanwhile the cafe would have something nice on the walls. The Fat Cat men collected F’s paintings in their van and took them over to Chester. A few weeks later, one of them, Simon, contacted F and explained that there had been a break-in at Chester – the paintings were OK, but Simon and his business partner Matthew were worried that if it happened again and the paintings were damaged or stolen, their insurance wouldn’t cover it. F explained that he didn’t have transport to collect the paintings, so Simon said that he’d return them.

The paintings were delivered to F as arranged – except that one was missing. The most valuable one. Simon stated that it was slightly bigger than the others and wouldn’t fit in the van, but they’d return it soon. F waited and waited. Then he contacted Simon and Matthew and was once more told that the painting would soon be returned. This went on for many months. Then Matthew told F that if he wanted his painting back he’d have to hire a van himself and collect it from Nottingham of all places – where Matthew had a flat. Matthew had taken the painting to his flat ‘for safe-keeping’. F told Matthew that he couldn’t afford to rent a van and collect the painting from Nottingham. Matthew told F that he wasn’t getting the painting back unless he went to Nottingham. The price tag on the painting was £6k.  F went to the police to report the theft. The police told him that it was a civil matter. A very kind local solicitor wrote to Matthew  – and waived his fee – and asked for F’s painting to be returned. Matthew wrote to the solicitor and told him that F should spend his money on a van to collect his painting ‘rather than on expensive solicitors’.

Meanwhile, I had a friend who had been invited to a party at Matthew’s flat in Nottingham. There, hanging as the centrepiece, was the stolen oil painting. Matthew freely told his guests that he liked the painting so he kept it because he knew that the owner of the painting couldn’t afford to retrieve it or indeed take civil action against him.

By the time that my friend found the stolen painting, Matthew and Simon had opened a chain of The Fat Cats across the UK, had won an award for business and had stated their ambition to be create an international chain of The Fat Cats. Up in Bangor there was a stream of former The Fat Cat staff who had been treated abominably and not paid. Then there were the people who had enrolled for The Fat Cat ‘management training programme’ who found that health and safety legislation was being routinely flouted.

A few years ago, The Fat Cat chain of cafe bars appeared in the media. The business was in difficulties and the Director, one Matthew Saunders, was having to close many of his cafes because the bank had called in his overdraft without warning. Saunders gave interviews to the broadsheets about the outrageous behaviour of Lloyds Bank who had ruined the sort of business that this country needs no less.

I had a particularly good laugh at Saunders being stuffed over by the bank, as I’m sure did those waiters and waitresses to whom he owed money. The downside is that Saunders has probably flogged the painting that he stole to keep the wolf from the door whilst he works out another way of fleecing people.

I have begun wondering though. Is it possible that Saunders may have been acquainted with the paedophiles’ friends himself – that painting was stolen just when open season was declared on F…

 

One more conundrum before I finish this post. I have previously mentioned Dafydd’s habit of crashing his car every 50 miles or so and the multiple crashes that Dafydd had whilst he was flying light air craft. Dafydd was very obviously not medically fit enough to hold a driving licence yet alone any sort of pilot’s licence. From what I understand, the criteria for a pilot’s licence are stringent. One has to apply to the Civil Aviation Authority for a Light Aircraft Pilot’s Licence. There is a list of approved medical examiners. Does anyone know who was writing Dafydd’s medical reports, because I think that as ever with Dafydd, rules have been flouted.

 

 

NEWSFLASH – Carwyn announced this afternoon at the Welsh Labour Party conference in Llandudno that he is standing down as FM. Carwyn has never taken the action that he should have over the NHS, but Carwyn is the best of a very bad bunch. Paedophiles’ friend Mark Drakeford has stated that he will be ‘talking to his family’ about standing for election as FM. Now that really is an appalling vista.

Lord Denning

Killing Floor – I Know Cos I Was There!

The title of this post is a combination of one of Jimi Hendrix’s most well-known songs and an old favourite from Max Boyce.

In previous posts I have mentioned how Dr Dafydd Alun Jones’s friends and relations, whilst insulting me, stressed that Dafydd ‘knows really famous people’ and that as those boasting about Dafydd’s celebrity friends were not exactly cultured, they will have been talking about people on TV. I knew that Dafydd used to hold ‘clinics’ in the Queen’s Hotel in Leeds which was one of Jimmy Savile’s haunts and after Savile’s death it was revealed that not only did Savile visit Bryn Estyn but that a former resident alleged that Savile was present whilst this boy was sexually assaulted by multiple men. Whilst researching for this blog, I discovered that the lecherous Top Doctor Linford Rees who protected Dafydd et al for years was the father of the 1970s actress and sex symbol Angharad Rees. Angharad was married to Christopher Cazenove who starred in ‘Dynasty’ and was mates with Joan Collins and others. Linford Rees basked in the reflected glamour of his daughter’s celebrity circle. See post ‘A Galaxy Of Talent’ for more names and details.

I have also mentioned the psych patient who used to wander around Bethesda virtually destitute, completely neglected and refused help from the mental health services who told everyone that she had been a groupie who had slept with Mick Jagger. By the time that I knew this lady in the late 80s/90s, she was in a really bad way and was dismissed by the world as a nutter. But she was being sexually exploited by a number of people who were not admitting to this and a number of her other ‘fantasies’ were undoubtedly true. Kids in care and psych patients in north Wales had such bizarre and dreadful experiences at the hands of the traffickers who were ‘looking after them’ that the uninitiated could not be blamed for disbelieving their accounts. Some of them were indeed being trafficked for sex with high profile people. Many of those being looked after had died by the time that they were 30, but some of those who survived made it back to north Wales when they were too wrecked to continue working in the sex trade.

People who have not previously spent time around nutters who then do so frequently remark upon two things that surprise them. First, that some of the most extraordinary things that nutters say turn out to be true. Second, that nutters notice and remember a great deal of what is going on around them, rather more than other people do. This is definitely true – I’m not sure why nutters are so good at observing the world around them but many nutters cannot be beaten on this, they really are brilliant at people watching.

One of those dismissed by the staff of the Hergest Unit as the biggest nutter of all was a man, F, who was interested in three things in life – Jimi Hendrix, art and the activities of Dafydd. The official narrative regarding F was that he had become psychotic when he was in his 20s after blowing his mind on psychedelic drugs and had never recovered. The only interest in F’s ‘case’ that the Hergest Unit staff ever showed was over the question of whether his psychosis was ‘genetic’ or ‘drug-induced’. F had blown his mind on drugs and was the first to admit this, indeed he was quite proud of it. What hardly anyone knew however was that F’s mental health problems – which were severe – were made much worse by his treatment at the hands of the mental health services.

The prescribing for F had to be witnessed to be believed. When I first got to know him, he was on anti-psychotic injections, medication for the side-effects of those (the ‘side-effects’ of such anti-psychotics are substantial and debilitating) and several different benzodiazepines. As the years passed F was given even more drugs. Every time that F became angry or distressed, Tony Francis (Dr X) would get out the prescription pad and another anti-psychotic would be added to the cocktail – although none of the previous drugs were ever stopped. F did throw wobblers on a regular basis – but many of those wobblers were because the mental health services were having him arrested on ludicrous charges and as ever would ignore all complaints when he gained evidence that staff had perjured themselves.

F ended up so heavily sedated that his teeth literally rotted and dropped out and he did not feel a thing. I kept telling him to go to a dentist and he would cheerily say ‘but I haven’t got toothache’. By the time that I finally persuaded F to go to a dentist, the dentist just yanked out all that remained of his teeth, saying that they were too far gone to be saved. When F asked the dentist why he hadn’t felt any pain, the dentist explained that he was on so many drugs that his pain receptors weren’t working.

Between 1982-85 when I was living on Anglesey, I knew a local man who had also benefited from the attentions of Dafydd et al – his hands were covered in scars and burns. I found out that this was because he would inadvertently burn himself with his cigarettes and not feel anything as a result of his ‘medication’. Interestingly enough, when I mentioned to the corrupt GP who was facilitating the trafficking gang, Dr DGE Wood, that I had been chatting to this man after he’d given me a lift, Wood told me to keep away from him because he was a nutter. I learnt over the following years that this man was completely harmless but had never recovered after the North Wales Hospital Denbigh Experience.

There will have been something there that Wood did not want me to know. The dangerous nutter was one of Wood’s neighbours.

‘Talk to your local GP for advice – they have a wealth of experience and play a key role in the community!’

It’s not Hendrix, it’s ‘The Kinks’ – ‘Well-Respected Man’:

‘And he’s oh, so good/And he’s oh, so fine/And he’s oh, so healthy/In his body and his mind/He’s a well-respected man about town/Running a paedophile ring so conservatively’

 

The attitude of Bethesda surgery towards F fanned the flames of the fire stoked by the Hergest Unit. Like many long term psych patients, F was a very heavy smoker. I and a friend spent much time explaining the dangers of smoking 60 a day to him and after many months he took an interest in giving up. He went down to Bethesda surgery and was told that his ‘nerves’ were so bad that he really should not be thinking of giving up smoking what with his schizophrenia. After this, I and the friend began the hard work all over again and after many more months I managed to persuade him to return to Bethesda surgery for advice re stopping smoking but not to the lethal idiots whom he had consulted previously. He went to see Dr Paul Nickson who, to be fair, was very supportive where helping patients to give up smoking were concerned. Sadly Paul Nickson didn’t challenge any of the other dreadful things that were happening to F at the hands of the ‘services’.

Bethesda surgery’s attitude and conduct towards F was so bad that in the end he did what many of the folk of Bethesda did – he relied upon the pharmacist in Bethesda for advice. The pharmacist who used to own the chemist’s shop opposite the surgery was fantastic. He had grown up in Bethesda and had been to school there so he knew everyone and was an incredibly nice man. He treated everyone with respect and the Hergest patients used to remark that he always called them ‘Mr’ or ‘Mrs/Miss’ – which the Top Docs certainly never did – and that this was without irony. The pharmacist knew how bloody lethal the Top Docs and paedophiles’ friends were and I wondered if he came under attack himself, because after many years of excellent service to the village he became ill, sold his business and later resurfaced as one of the pharmacists in Tesco in Bangor.

A regular scene was that of patients exiting the door of Bethesda surgery, swearing about the inadequacies of the Top Docs in there and then walking across the road to join the queue in the chemist’s shop to talk to someone who knew what they were doing. One one occasion, F entered the chemist’s shop, saw some people who weren’t locals – I think that they were tourists – and yelled out ‘I can highly recommend this man, he is better than a doctor’. The tourists looked bemused and the locals in the shop fell about laughing because the problems were well known…

Despite the constant problems that F had with Bethesda surgery, he was obliged to continue his relationship with them because none of the medication which he was being told was essential could be purchased over the counter. On one memorable occasion, F was sitting in Bethesda surgery when a new patient asked him ‘what are the doctors like here?’ and F replied ‘oh they’re all pretty good except for Mithan’, which was particularly brilliant because Dr Mithan was standing right behind him and heard every world. I was delighted, because I knew people who had really suffered at the hands of Mithan and it was about time that he knew how the village felt about his clinical skills. However, as details of this event reached the ears of other people, a number of them remarked that F had been far too generous in his assessment and stated that ‘they’re not all pretty good except for Mithan, they’re all bloody awful as well as Mithan’. Which was indeed true.

As with all the psych patients, the details of F’s Life Before Dafydd had been forgotten by the staff. He had come from an affluent family in Surrey, had gone to art school in Farnham, had been part of the 60s and 70s counter culture and had rubbed noses with some of the rich n famous. He had gone to school with Rick Parfitt of ‘Status Quo’ fame, one of his best mates had lived at St George’s Hill next to Ringo Starr and he’d trekked across Turkey, Morocco and Afghanistan. And of course he’d spent much time at festivals and other places, taking drugs in the company of other people who also rubbed shoulders with some high profile people.

What the Hergest Unit knew was that in the 1980s F had set fire to his house in Bethesda, ended up in Risley Remand Centre and then in the North Wales Hospital Denbigh for a year and was now a ‘chronic schizophrenic, resistant to medication’. (Then why was he prescribed ‘maintenance medication’ of three anti-psychotics and four benzodiazepines and constantly told that if he didn’t carry on loading himself up he’d ‘get ill’??)

What had actually happened was that F and his former wife C had been raided by the notoriously corrupt drug squad, class A drugs had been planted on F and C and at the police station C had been offered a deal if she made a statement claiming that the drugs were all F’s. Meanwhile, unbeknown to C, at the police station F had been punched in the face by an unidentified Sergeant who had walked into the loo whilst F was in there. F was charged with drugs offences, bailed and left to walk back to Bethesda. During the night, he began experiencing psychotic symptoms, which he told me that he always thought were brought on by the stress of events at the police station. F did set fire to his house, but that was after he had asked a notoriously vile wife beating neighbour – known as Til, who worked for S4C – for help, only to be told ‘well you’re not fucking getting it here’. After setting fire to his house, F went up into the hills where he was found many hours later, arrested and charged with arson and endangering life and taken to Risley Remand Centre.

At Risley, F was left in a cell for three days in the pitch dark after a screw took the light bulb out. F told me that every night he heard the screams of the other prisoners as they were beaten up by the warders. This was the ‘medical wing’ – run by Dafydd’s mates. When F was finally allowed out of the cell he met the other prisoners, who were mostly victims of Dafydd and the paedophiles. F acquired the moniker ‘mushroom boy’ and gave them art lessons.

When F told his solicitor about the assault at the police station – which had been witnessed by a PC who was too frightened to give evidence – the charges of endangering life were quietly dropped. F was charged with drug offences and arson. Dafydd then appeared – whom F had never previously encountered but F had been told by the solicitor that Dafydd was his best chance of getting out of a long prison sentence – and declared F to be ‘a known schizophrenic’, one, according to Dafydd’s notes, ‘with pleasant manners and casual attire’. Dafydd gave evidence in court that F would need to be sectioned for a year.

When F arrived at the North Wales Hospital Denbigh, the Angels told him that he was clearly ‘no longer ill’, but ‘for the sake of the courts’ Dafydd would keep him at Denbigh for three weeks and then he could go. After a matter of only days, F was sitting in the garden when he was approached by one of Dafydd’s drug patients, who sold him a huge quantity of amphetamines, which F took. F developed a drug induced psychosis. Which was documented upon his medical records. What was not documented was that F had entered Denbigh not psychotic and only became ill whilst a patient there, as a result of drugs that he had been sold and taken on the premises.

Nothing about the assault at the police station was documented.

Thus a known schizophrenic madman who had set fire to his house was created.

Dafydd didn’t visit F during the year that F spent in Denbigh. It was business as usual – F was left to rot in there along with all the other paedophiles’ victims. Whilst F was in Denbigh, he contacted ‘Release’, the drugs charity. A man from release went up to Denbigh from London, but told F that he ‘couldn’t do anything’. From the information that F provided to me, like I and many other people he was almost certainly held in Denbigh unlawfully. F won’t have known this, but ‘Release’ were linked to organisations involved with fighting for paedophiles’ rights at that time – the mid-80s – and they will have known Dafydd and the paedophiles.

After a year Dafydd visited F and told F that he couldn’t release him until he had somewhere to live. F’s wife, C, had left him – their marriage was very rocky even before the fire – and was living in Glastonbury, where among other things, she worked as a nanny for Fay Weldon. C didn’t think much of Fay and her husband – and had a few interesting things to say about them – and left their employment to work on a farm in Somerset. The house in Bethesda to which F had set fire had not yet been repaired.

Dafydd tried to persuade F to move into a ‘nursing home’ in Llandudno. This nursing home was Holyrood House, which was the subject of an expose by Esther on ‘That’s Life’ and then in the wider media in 1987. Patients were being beaten up by a henchman and a drug addict from Liverpool was responsible for ‘medication’. I was told later that it was widely believed that Dafydd was sexually involved with the ‘manager’ of Holyrood House, Margaret Richards. Someone who knew Margaret Richards told me that she was no more than a common or garden petty criminal who would shop-lift from and swindle shops in Llandudno. Margaret Richards was allegedly responsible for buying Dafydd’s suits, which would certainly explain why Dafydd’s gangster suits never fitted him.

F had no interest in living in Llandudno – although at that time, Holyrood House had not yet been exposed – and in F’s words, he wanted ‘to get back to Bethesda, to hippies, to dogs and to mess’. Dafydd refused to release F until he had somewhere to live, so F rang a mate in Bethesda who wrote to Dafydd confirming that F would be living in a house owned by him in Bethesda.

Thus F finally escaped from the North Wales Hospital. But not of course from the clutches of the psychiatric services. As was de rigueur, F was kept well dosed up with sedatives, but no helpful services at all were forthcoming – F was harassed and threatened by the Arfon Community Mental Health Team, in  particular Slob Ingham.

F was an affluent man. He had inherited a considerable amount of money from an uncle and although his relationship with C was volatile, they remained friends and by the time that they actually divorced – some years later – C was scrupulously fair financially and agreed on a generous settlement from the sale of their property. So F had enough money to purchase a house and live quite a good life – thus he wasn’t dependent upon the ‘services’ for accommodation and benefits, which was the only reason why he did not end up destitute after leaving Denbigh.

F however was incredibly lonely. C had remarried and F wasn’t spending time with his old hippy mates because he had given up illicit drugs and thus had nothing much in common with them anymore.

F was targeted by an unscrupulous woman, who was networked into the paedophiles’ friends. She had been married before and had three children from her previous marriage. Her former husband had been physically abusive to those children and had left her to live with an Angel from Ysbyty Gwynedd, who later commuted to a hospital in Milton Keynes to do agency work because it was so highly paid. The woman who targeted F was known to be absolutely desperate for another baby and basically also needed some dosh. The whole of Bethesda saw her move in on F – assisted by two of her mates who were networked into the paedophiles’ friends as well. They began a relationship and she moved into F’s house in Bethesda. She became pregnant, miscarried and then became pregnant again.

The day that his partner gave birth at the very end of 1992, F was delighted. He had been at the birth and had spent a small fortune getting everything ready for the baby. In fact he had spent so much money on his partner and her kids over the last two years that he had nothing left. He had sold his house in Bethesda and they were living in a rented house in Holyhead – which he had paid for and kitted out with furnishings, baby gear etc. That was his money gone.

The baby was about two weeks old when I heard that F was in the psychiatric ward in Ysbyty Gwynedd and had split up with the mother of his newborn baby. I had been to visit the new baby a few days before and whilst F was out of the room the baby’s mother remarked in passing that ‘I ‘feel a bit guilty because me and the kids have spent all his money’. I didn’t realise what was coming…

I went to visit F in hospital who told me ‘I have been used as a sperm donor and a cashpoint machine and now she’s thrown me out’. Over the next week it became clear that F had most succinctly summed up the situation – info from numerous sources confirmed that he had served his purpose and had now been dispensed with, penniless and homeless.

F then revealed that he had been denied access to his baby, although he had received more demands from his former partner for money. He had told his former partner that he didn’t have anything left, she’d had it all. He was told that they had heard that he had moved in with a new girlfriend and therefore she could hand money over. F’s new partner was approached in the street in Bethesda by a paedophiles’ friend who asked her for ‘money for [F’s former partner] and the baby, because she’s got nothing poor thing’. The new girlfriend responded that F had been bled dry and that no, she would not be donating to the ever hungry jaws of F’s former partner and her family.

F then explained to his new partner and staff at the Hergest Unit as well as to Drs Gareth Jones and Paul Nickson at Bethesda surgery why he was so concerned about the welfare of his baby son. He revealed that his former partner’s eldest son, a young man, had indecently assaulted at least two boys of ten whilst F had lived with the family and F was told by his former partner and her extended family not to say a word because they feared legal action. F was told by Gareth Jones and Paul Nickson that a referral would be made to Gwynedd Social Services.

F and his new partner were visited by Jo Bott, a former police officer with the North Wales Police, who was employed as a child protection officer. She was friendly and charm itself. She took details and was given the names of the only two other people outside of the family concerned who knew about the indecent assaults as potential witnesses. Some two weeks late Jo Bott returned. She told F that there were no concerns about the family, that there would be no investigation and as she left the house she threatened F’s new partner with action if she ‘didn’t leave [F’s former partner] alone’. F’s partner had not seen or communicated with his former partner since she had visited the new baby before the couple had split up.

F had not had been allowed access to his baby by his former partner since he had left the family home. He had seen his baby – because the baby’s mother gloried in pushing the baby around the village in which F and his new partner lived.

F then received a solicitor’s letter from his former partner requesting money. The solicitor concerned was Elwyn Jones, a paedophiles’ friend who had a practice in Bangor. David Jones, the paedophiles’ friend and now Tory MP for Clwyd West, worked in the same practice. Elwyn Jones was the son of Sir Elwyn Jones, the former MP for Conwy, another paedophiles’ friend. For details of Elwyn Jones, his dad Sir Elwyn and David Jones, see post ‘The Right Honourable David Jones MP’.

By this time, F’s former partner had been given a new (rented) house with the North Wales Housing Association in Bethesda. She furnished it with the gear that F had purchased whilst he lived with the family. Her teenaged daughter, M, – who was pregnant – and M’s boyfriend Martin were given a NWHA house next door. There was very nearly a revolution in Bethesda because at that time the housing list was a mile long and across the area there were young parents with one or even two children who were living with relatives after having been told that no accommodation was available.

One day on the bus to Bangor a neighbour of F’s former partner remarked to someone that she had some very expensive stuff in her house considering that she was a single mother on benefits. F was on the bus at the time and another passenger responded by saying ‘yes and there’s the man who paid for it all’.

It was then discovered that F’s former partner had ‘done a deal’ with Gwynedd Social Services – if she agreed to deny F access to his baby on the grounds that he ‘presented a danger’ to the baby, she and her daughter would be housed in the village of their choice, next door to each other. Jo Bott was involved with this deal, as was Gwynedd County Councillor Dafydd Orwig, who was a retired lecturer from Bangor Normal College, the teacher training institution which later merged with Bangor University.

F was then told by five different people that his former partner’s eldest son had moved into a flat in Bethesda with another young man, that they had offered their services as babysitters to a family with young children and allegations of sexual assault had been made against them.

F contacted the Hergest Unit staff and Bethesda surgery once more concerning the welfare of his son, to whom who he still had no access. He was told to stop worrying about his former partner and to ‘move on with his life’. He still had no access to his son.

The young man who had been accused of sexual assault moved out of the flat in Bethesda but no charges were ever brought against him or his friend.

M then gave birth to her baby girl. By the time that the baby was four weeks old, bruises were found on the baby which M admitted inflicting. M then left Martin and baby and began a relationship with another (married) man. F’s former partner stated that she would look after her granddaughter. Martin applied for custody. Gwynedd Social Services opposed him and told M daughter that if she would agree to attend the court hearing, she and F’s former partner would be given custody of the baby.  Fortunately for the baby girl, M did not bother to attend the hearing and custody was awarded to Martin, who lived with his parents in Tregarth – Martin’s family were very much more stable than M’s family.

Meanwhile F was charged with threatening a social worker – the case collapsed after the social worker admitted during the court hearing that she’d lied in her statement to the police. There was no investigation into the social worker.

M gave birth to another baby and injured that baby as well. I understand that the baby was taken into care.

F’s former partner and her family moved then away from Bethesda and I was told that she’d gone to live ‘with a friend and her family’ in Colwyn Bay.

The birth of F’s baby and the great stuffing over of F happened during the first police investigation into the abuse of children in care in north Wales.

When M and Martin’s baby was about 2-3 yrs old – so in approx 1995-96, as the demands for a public inquiry into the abuse of children in north Wales grew louder and louder – Martin was found dead in the road near Bethesda. He had been hit by a lorry and killed. His death received coverage in the local paper and Martin’s devotion to his daughter was discussed in the article. It was explained that Martin’s little girl would now be brought up by Martin’s parents. There was no mention of the struggle that Martin had endured in order to gain custody of his daughter when she was a baby.

There was no investigation into Martin’s death. He was a witness to the way in which F had been stitched up as well as to other matters involving M’s family.

 

The following people – and many more as well – are still alive and knew the full details behind the fleecing of F and the theft of his son and some of them colluded with it:

Jo Bott; Drs Heinersdorff, Mithan, Nickson, Gareth Jones; Slob Ingham; Jan Ingham; Keith Fearns; Tom Harney; Jackie Brandt; Dr Sadie Francis; Dr Bob Tresman; Dr Neil Cheshire; Ella Fisk; Jeff Crowther; Penny Phillips; Gareth Phillips.

A number of other people knew as well but are now dead. All the above knew that F did not ‘abandon his son’ and ‘refuse to support him’. F had been taken to the cleaners and had to spend two years living a mile down the road from where his son had been housed with a bunch of child molesters, whilst F’s new partner cleared the utility of bills of his former partner and her family (nearly £1000) because F’s former partner had kept them in F’s name after she kicked him out. F’s new partner and F then received threats and demands for yet more money. When that didn’t work, they received offers of photos of F’s baby because he was a lovely baby and if only they could see what he looked like…

If that wasn’t enough, someone then killed Martin.

F’s former partner’s first husband Dai is now married to Katherine Jones, who has stood in recent elections as the Arfon candidate for Arthur Scargill’s Socialist Party.

Now perhaps Operation Pallial would like to interview all these people about some very serious crimes committed between 1992-1996.

Furthermore invertebrates, F might have been a ‘known schizophrenic’ but he had a bloody site more guts than you lot as he ran the gauntlet of paedophiles’ friends every time he left his house – paedophiles’ friends who even found a problem with him because of his hat and coloured waistcoats of all things. As he breezily said on so many occasions ‘I’m going to make a lot of people angry today by wearing my hat’.

 

I have mentioned that the Hergest staff were oblivious to the details of F’s life as a young man, those details had just been lost in the clouds of known schizophrenia, untoward hats and other stupid obsessions of the Top Doctors – they didn’t actually listen to much of what most of the patients told them anyway. So they missed a great deal.

 

What I knew was that F had a firm belief that Jimi Hendrix had been killed by criminal medical negligence on the grounds that certain establishment figures ‘hated Hendrix’. I spent a lot of time telling F that I knew well the appalling attitudes of Top Doctors towards certain cohorts and I also knew that Top Docs were not above not looking after certain people too well in the belief that they wouldn’t last too long – it was clear that this rationale had been applied to me and a number of other people I know, including F himself – but I wasn’t sure that the same had happened to Hendrix. F maintained that not only had Hendrix been helped along his way after he’d been admitted to hospital following an overdose, but that a former girlfriend of Hendrix was concealing what had happened and another former girlfriend knew ‘the truth’ and was being slowly destroyed.

F maintained that whilst he had been in Risley after the fire, a detective from London arrived and said that he had come to interview him about Hendrix’s death. F never wavered from this story – a detective had arrived and after F had refused to discuss anything with him the detective had lost his temper, said ‘you’re bloody nuts anyway’ and he had been thrown back into his cell. Brown and I always took the view that a detective did go to see F – Risley was ridden with corruption and there were no rules there, nothing will have been documented – but it was probably someone trying to extract information about the drug scene in north Wales. Then I wondered if it was someone who was trying to ensure that the violence in the police station and the fitting up of F was kept under wraps.

But after reading a bit more about Hendrix’s death I’m now wondering whether, as F always claimed, that detective was something to do with matters Hendrix.

It is taken as a given that Jimi Hendrix died on 18 Sep 1970 after an overdose. What I didn’t realise was that there was indeed a lot of confusion surrounding the circumstances of Hendrix’s death and that two of his former girlfriends were indeed at each others throats, because one of them, Monika, alleged medical negligence so serious that it killed Hendrix. The other former girlfriend, Kathy, married a Top Doctor after Hendrix’s death and maintained that this was an outrageous allegation, outrageous enough for Mrs Top Doctor to at one point attempt to have Monika imprisoned.

Kathy has fared rather better than Monika – Monika was trashed by the media and killed herself years ago.

 

Kathy Etchingham was born 1946 in Derby, the daughter of an Irishman from Dublin. Her mother deserted the family when Kathy was ten years old, and Kathy was sent to the Holy Faith convent boarding school in Dublin. Returning to England, having been ‘snatched from the convent’ by her mother, she made her way to London when she was 16.

In London, Kathy became a DJ at the Cromwellian Club in Kensington and later at the Scotch of St James nightclub, in addition to working as a hairdresser. She knew musicians of the period including ‘The Animals’, ‘The Who’, ‘The Kinks’, ‘The Moody Blues’, ‘The Move’ and many others. 

Kathy met Hendrix when she was 20 in the Scotch of St James, on the night of his arrival in London in Sept 1966 and they became a couple. In 1969, she and Hendrix parted.

Monika Dannemann was a German figure skater and the last girlfriend of Hendrix. After Hendrix died, Monika married the guitarist Uli John Roth of the ‘Scorpions’.

Monika was first introduced to Jimi on 12 Jan 1969 in Dusseldorf where he was playing a concert. She spent the night with him and part of the next day and accompanied him to Cologne, where he was playing another concert. Monika returned to Dusseldorf – Hendrix spent the last night of the tour with model Uschi Obermaier. On 25 March 1969, Hendrix wrote to Monika inviting her to visit him in New York City. Monika claimed that she next saw Hendrix on 25 April 1969 at the Speakeasy Club in London, where she bumped into him. Monika stated that they spent time together over the next nine days but that she only spent one night with him.

After his Sept 1970 European tour, Hendrix began a relationship with model Kirsten Nefer. Nefer left London due to work and Hendrix took up with Monika on 15 Sept 1970 and spent the next four nights with her at the Samarkand Hotel in Notting Hill Gate, where he fell into a coma.

It is accepted that Monika was the last person to see Hendrix alive. On the evening of 17 Sept 1970, Hendrix took at least one amphetamine pill at a party. He returned to Monika’s flat and took nine of Monika’s Vesparax sleeping tablets – the recommended dose was half to one tablet. Monika claimed that one the morning of 18 Sept, she found Hendrix in a coma at her flat. She called for an ambulance which arrived at 11:27 am. Hendrix was declared dead at St Mary Abbot’s Hospital at 12:45 pm. The cause of death was ‘asphyxiation through aspiration of vomit due to a barbiturate overdose’.

Monika seemed to have great difficulty getting over Hendrix’s death, although she did marry Roth. She spent the rest of her life selling her paintings of Hendrix and enjoyed dressing up as a rock chick years after Hendrix and many of those who associated with her had died. Monika’s claim that Hendrix was her real love didn’t concern Roth – he was a massive Hendrix fan himself and accepted Monika’s loyalty to her dead boyfriend.

The one person who was seriously pissed off by Monika living on her memories of Hendrix was Kathy Etchingham. Their spat brewed away for many years without people outside the circle of Hendrix devotees – such as F – really noticing, but in April 1996 it hit the media as a result of Kathy taking legal action against Monika for contempt of court and requesting her imprisonment.

Kathy seemed to place herself in a contradictory position. She dripped with contempt for Monika on the grounds that Monika was a sad old bag who had spent decades dining out on her relationship with Hendrix and that she ought to bloody well get over it and indeed ‘move on’. Much was made in the media of Kathy’s status as a ‘middle aged Surrey doctor’s wife’ who was a great deal more sane than the deranged Monika. Yet the Surrey doctor’s wife, like Monika, made damn sure that everyone knew that she had been Hendrix’s girlfriend. Furthermore, Kathy had been Hendrix’s REAL girlfriend, as opposed to Monika the flibbertigibit who had only known Hendrix for a few days of casual sex at the end of his life.

In April 1996 Monika was found guilty of contempt of court by Mr Justice French, for repeating ‘false allegations’ against Kathy, precisely that Kathy was an ‘inveterate liar’ about her relationship with Hendrix. Monika’s 1995 book ‘The Inner Life Of Jimi Hendrix’ had quoted Hendrix as saying that Kathy was someone who would ‘cheat and lie for money’. Kathy claimed that the book was libellous and took Monika to court where Monika gave the undertaking which she later breached and saw her before Justice French in April 1996.

Kathy had asked Mr Justice French to imprison Monika. He declined to do so, but did award costs of £30,000 against Monika.

 

The matter was reported by the Indie on 3 April, 1996, who stated that Kathy had ‘claimed victory yesterday over her Sixties rival who was found guilty of contempt by a High Court judge’.

Kathy stated that ‘This is a victory for common sense and I am absolutely delighted. This has been an ongoing problem for me but I hope this is an end to it now. I was fed up that someone who only had a relationship with Jimi for three days claims she was engaged to him. It is absolutely bizarre that this has been going on for 26 years’.

The Indie continued: ‘The battle between the two women goes back to the Seventies. In a series of ‘News of the World’ articles, Miss Etchingham claimed that Miss Danneman did not do enough to save Hendrix after he died from an overdose of sleeping tablets. Miss Danneman wrote her libellous book in 1995 in which she quoted Hendrix as saying that Mrs Etchingham was a girl ‘who will cheat and lie for money’.

Matters moved up to a whole new level two days later when Monika was found dead in her fume-filled Mercedes Benz near her home in Seaford, East Sussex. The verdict was one of suicide.

 

The media’s reaction after Monika’s death were extraordinary. Was there any sympathy shown towards Monika? Not at all – a load more abuse was heaped upon her.

On 6 April 6, 1996, the ‘Daily Mail’ published a deeply unpleasant article by Edward Verity:

‘The death of 50-year-old Monika Danneman, the guitar hero’s `fiancee’, in a fume-filled car brings to an end half a lifetime of pointless fretting and grieving over a man who, if the truth be told, she hardly knew. For Kathy Etchingham, another former Hendrix girlfriend and Monika’s rival in this week’s High Court case, it means the painful reopening of old wounds at a time when she should have been celebrating her legal victory. The story of Jimi, Monika and Kathy is an extraordinary saga of obsession, jealousy, love, Swinging Sixties excess and wasted life…Monika’s version of events – long disputed by Kathy and many Hendrix fans – was given…at the inquest…The German-born blonde told how Hendrix, to whom she had been engaged for two years, came to stay at her West London flat four days before his death.

On their last day together, they took photographs and went shopping before she cooked spaghetti bolognese for dinner and opened a bottle of white wine.`There was no arguing or stress. We were talking and listening to music,’ she said. After helping with the washing up and writing his last song, Hendrix decided he wanted to go to a party on his own. Monika dutifully drove him, returning at 2.30 am to collect him. The following day she woke at 10.20 am and wanted some cigarettes. `But as Jimi did not like me going out without me telling him, I looked to see if he was awake. He was sleeping normally. Just before I was about to go out I glanced at him again and realised he was ill. I tried to wake up but I couldn’t. Then I saw he had been taking some of my sleeping tablets. He must have taken them shortly after I started to fall asleep.’

Verity continues:

‘Monika’s story is that Hendrix died at 12.45 pm that day, shortly after being admitted to hospital. She told the inquest she had never known the guitarist take hard drugs, although he had admitted trying them. `He was never sad or depressed when he was with me,’ she concluded. A verdict of accidental death was recorded and Monika stuck rigidly to her story ever afterwards, even hiring her own private investigator at one stage to prove she did all she could to save him. `What I said at the inquest is exactly what happened,’ she told the Mail in December 1993 after we revealed Scotland Yard was reopening its investigation into Hendrix’s death. `The police will find that out. There are some people who are trying to reinvent Jimi’s death. But the fact is he died accidentally. Naturally I will never forget that night, but I have nothing to hide. What certain people are saying about Jimi’s death and about me is not nice.’

 

So Monika seems to have been defending herself from accusations that she had been responsible for Hendrix’s death – she felt such pressure that she had even resorted to hiring a private detective to defend her position. Her comments to the Mail in 1993 seem to be quite restrained in view of the allegations that were levelled at her (some people alleged that she poisoned Hendrix). The harshest that Monika gets is to state that what some people were saying about her ‘is not nice’. If someone accused me of murder, I’d be a lot ruder about them than that.

Yet the Mail took this as a declaration of war: ‘The latter was, of course, an implicit attack on Kathy, now 49 and married to Dr Nicholas Page and living in a £400,000 detached house in Surrey surrounded by woodland. This mutual enmity is hardly surprising. For the two leading women in Hendrix’s life were as different as their contrasting versions of his death.’

We’re on familiar ‘Daily Mail’ territory here – the middle aged and middle class, the alleged value of the house provided (in Surrey as well) along with the info that it’s next to a nice woods. Probably with Tufty resident among the trees.

Whereas the deceased Monika was ‘pinched and fragile with a hippy fringe and a cascade of Born Unblonde curls’ who ‘lived like a recluse in a thatched cottage on the South Coast which she turned into a shrine to her lost love. Her paintings of Hendrix, depicted as a young god come to earth, stared down from every wall.’

But by ‘Daily Mail’ standards, doesn’t a thatched cottage on the south coast usually win hands down over a Surrey house next to someone else’s woodland? Perhaps not, if there are paintings of Hendrix inside the thatched cottage and the owner of the cottage uses the wrong brand of hair-dye.

Even the more liberal Indie couldn’t resist putting the boot into the dead Monika. An article by Mary Braid on 30 April 1996 told readers that:

‘…most press reports concluded that [Monika’s] death brought to an end a 26-year catfight. Dannemann, 50, was found dead in her fume-filled Mercedes after being found guilty of contempt of court for repeating a libel against a 49-year- old Surrey doctor’s wife…the story is more than a lifetime of eye-scratching. It is the tale of the creation of a rock ‘n’ roll myth and of the woman who built her life upon it and felt compelled to bow out when the elaborate, artificial edifice began to crumble around her….To Dannemann, [Hendrix] was not just the world’s most gifted guitarist. She considered him a prophet…She claims she soon left Germany and her job as an ice-skating teacher to follow Jimi to London. She has always claimed – despite contrary evidence – that an 18-month relationship and engagement followed. What no one can deny is that she was with him the night he choked to death on his own vomit’.

Braid geared up even more:

‘she was for ever the focus for suspicions surrounding the circumstances of Hendrix’s death. Some said she delayed calling an ambulance; a few even claimed she poisoned him. After Jimi died, Dannemann made a career of being Hendrix’s fiancee. Endless newspaper, documentary and book interviews followed with spreads in Hello! magazine at her home in Seaford, Sussex (a veritable shrine to Hendrix), and with Hendrix’s family in Seattle, as well as guest appearances at Hendrix conventions’.

Mary Braid then let’s us know who the real partner of Hendrix was and it wasn’t the deluded old slapper who, interestingly, was obviously accepted by Hendrix’s family and fans:

‘In Dannemann’s lifelong homage to Hendrix, Etchingham was always the party-pooper. Hendrix had lived with Etchingham in the late Sixties. Their relationship lasted for almost three years. He was still involved with her when Dannemann claims their love affair began. Etchingham’s mere existence was annoyance enough. But her very different view of Hendrix – troubled booze and drug-abusing man rather than serene, spiritual, drug- free demi-God – no doubt irked Dannemann more…the contrast between the women was stark – Dannemann with her Marianne Faithful fringe, a grotesque superannuated hippy chick versus Etchingham with the sleek Nineties bob and the executive suit. While Dannemann’s life seemed to freeze on the day Hendrix died, Kathy, a mother of two, had had the sense to let the Sixties go.’

Monika’s fringe obviously caused as much trouble as F’s hat. Why ever would one attribute sanity or credibility to a woman with a fringe if she was pitched against a woman with ‘a sleek Nineties bob’ and an ‘executive suit’?

I hope that the ‘Daily Mail’ don’t ever write an article about me, they’re going to find me seriously wanting.

Mary Braidy does realise that Monika’s husband was seriously pissed off with the media coverage of his late wife: ‘Uli John Roth, who lived with Dannemann for 17 years, seethes at how the newspapers depicted Dannemann as timewarp woman. “I’m speaking up for Monika because she was never very good at speaking up for herself,” he says.

Well she wasn’t a Top Doctor’s wife mouthing off to the ‘Daily Mail’ and demanding that people should be imprisoned – people who of course are sad and mad and can’t be believed but nonetheless need to be imprisoned.

Where have I encountered such logic before?

Uli Roth took the view that Monika was in a rather better position that the Top Doc’s wife in possession of the sleek Nineties bob where having knowledge of Hendrix before he died was concerned: ‘She was involved with him during the last 18 months when he went through a lot of emotional and spiritual changes…There was no one that he told as much to as he told Dannemann. And that made some people very, very jealous. He was not the psychedelic bubblehead guitar player as portrayed’.

Uli had also stated that he believed that foul play may well have been involved in Monika’s death, despite the verdict of suicide.

We are not provided with a description of Uli’s hairstyle or clothes, so we don’t know how believable he is.

 

It gets better. Not only is the dead nearly-imprisoned Monika nuts, but Kathy is the real victim. Mary Braid explains:

‘At her luxury home in the Surrey countryside, Kathy Etchingham answers her front door accompanied by a huge dog. She peeps out as if looking for trouble. Someone has phoned that morning accusing her of murdering Dannemann. Her large homely kitchen seems a world away from Jimi Hendrix and the far-out, blow your mind, psychedelic Sixties. There are no portraits of Jimi. Today, she is trying to rescue her 18-year-old son from Japan where he has run out of money and she is waiting for her husband, Nick, to get home from work.’

So Kathy is holed up in her country house, equipped with a drug dealer’s dog (Dafydd had a Doberman) and no doubt other security measures. Although Kathy was ‘delighted’ to have won the High Court case against the mad, sad Monika, she’s not gloating:

‘Etchingham has said little since the suicide out of respect for Dannemann’s family. But she says she does not blame herself. She could not allow Dannemann to go on repeating the libel that she was a liar and that she stole from Jimi. The Hendrix scene, she says, has its share of crazies. Dannemann’s accusations were putting her life at risk.’

 

How Monika’s accusations were putting Kathy’s life at risk was not explained. If I knew that someone who had had a relationship with the same man as me 26 yrs ago was preserved in aspic and enjoyed chatting about old times and flogging pictures of the former partner and I prided myself on my luxury house, my sleek Nineties bob and having ‘moved on’, I’m not sure that I’d bother to try to have her imprisoned even if she had published a book calling me a liar. I don’t think I’d be that concerned, especially if I was dismissing everyone from those times as ‘crazies’.

 

Once again, readers were reminded of Kathy’s superior qualities: ‘Etchingham is still remarkably girlish; with cheekbones to kill for’.

If readers seek out a photo of Kathy from this time, they will see a middle-aged woman with a boring hairstyle, not evidence of cheekbones capable of incitement to murder.

Kathy ‘was a 23-year-old hairdresser when she dated Jimi. She was another person in another time and she seldom thinks of Jimi these days, she claims. But you wonder. Because even here the past still has its pull. She cared enough to spend three years in the early Nineties investigating the circumstances surrounding Jimi Hendrix’s death. She criticised Dannemann’s account of Jimi’s death for its “inconsistencies”. And her 34-page dossier resulted in Scotland Yard reopening the case, although it was subsequently dropped.’

 

For someone who in no way thinks of herself and her value in terms of her status as Hendrix’s former girlfriend, Kathy certainly pushed the boat out. She even got Scotland Yard to re-investigate his death. So who was Kathy accusing of what?

Kathy retained a healthy interest in Hendrix after Monika’s death. She led a campaign to persuade English Heritage to place a Blue Plaque on the Mayfair flat which she and Hendrix shared – the Plaque was erected in 1997. Because, of course ‘she cared’.

In 1998 Kathy published a book about her life with Hendrix.

Er – this is a woman who has ‘moved on?’

 

After Monika’s death, Kathy told the media that ‘she only got involved in the whole Hendrix business in the early Nineties’.

So what was all that about a 26 yr long spat with Monika, who was such a pain in the bum that she needed jailing?

Kathy explained: ‘I don’t like history being altered’…it’s not right that anyone should change the character and essence of a person. Jimi was a really nice bloke but he was not a prophet…At the end he was a man who had lost his way. If you look at the footage of the final concerts you can see what LSD and cocaine do.’ Kathy believed that ‘the court case was the final blow to Dannemann’s lifelong deception’. ‘The court case established once and for all that she was not Jimi’s girlfriend’, Kathy was quoted as saying, ‘Everything was beginning to catch up with her’.

 

I’m not sure how a court case can establish whether someone had been in a relationship with someone else or not – was Mr Justice French resident in Hendrix’s bedroom at the time? I think that it might have been the non-stop denigration from the world’s media, the accusations that Monika was a murderer and Kathy’s attempt to imprison her that might have caught up with Monika.

 

Monika had received quite a kicking by the time that she was found dead. In Feb 1996, an American music magazine ‘cast doubt’ on her version of events on the night that Hendrix died and on her claims to have had a relationship with him. A hour-long documentary on Radio 4 broadcast at about the same time ‘was just as sceptical’ and a new film was ‘expected to add to the doubt’. To Steve Rodham, editor of ‘Jimpress’, a Hendrix fanzine, Monika’s life was a life wasted: ‘I think she really did believe she was Jimi’s girlfriend although there was no real evidence… Jimi was just a guitar player. If he was alive, he would have laughed his socks off about all this. He liked women, but the music always came first’.

So presumably his music was prioritised over Kathy as well…

I have discussed in detail in previous posts how the most distressing things happening to kids in care or psych patients were ignored by the professional classes or simply dismissed out of hand if anyone made a formal complaint. It was as a result of this that Dafydd and the paedophiles were able to commit such serious offences. An excellent example of professional attitudes was illustrated by an anecdote that a man who was friends with F told me.
This man lived in Bethesda but he wasn’t local. He had moved to Bethesda in about 1988 from London – he lived in a street near F. This man was, like F, ‘a known schizophrenic’ who was neglected appallingly by the Bethesda GPs. The bus that used to run between Bethesda and Bangor in the 1980s and 1990s was a very friendly bus and I heard many interesting things on that bus. One day the neighbour of F’s told me how they had become such good mates. They had both been into Bangor for groceries and as they got off the bus in Bethesda and were walking up the hill, F’s neighbour from London – who had never spoken to F before – said to F ‘God this hill will be the death of me’. So F put on a pirate’s voice – which he was regularly doing at that time – and said for a laugh ‘I’ll tell you what’ll be the death of you. It won’t be this hill, it’ll be when I slit your gizzards’. F then went into his house, completely oblivious that the man from London was terrified.
No residents of Bethesda knew at the time, but the man from London had been violently attacked in London and seriously injured and had also experienced very serious abuse at the hands of a psychiatric hospital in London, so he was a wary man. The Bethesda police however did know about this. The man from London told me that he sat in his house after the pirate incident thinking ‘bloody hell, what if he does it? He could come over and kill me’. The man from London got so worried that he went down to Bethesda Police Station and told them. The Bethesda police then went to see F and F explained that it was a joke, of course he wasn’t going to slit anyone’s gizzards and F did a demo of the pirate’s voice for the policeman.
According to the man from London, the Bethesda police then went to see him, said that they’d spoken to F and told the man from London ‘he’s completely mad and there’s nothing that we can do about him’.
The man from London spent the next few days in a state of terror. Another neighbour found out what was going on and told F. So when F saw the man from London sitting on a chair out the front on the next sunny day, F went up to the man from London, gave him a flower and related anecdotes about peace protesting hippies sticking flowers in the barrels of guns and reassured him that he really was not about to be murdered.
This story caused a certain amount of entertainment, but it was attitudes like this that enabled a people trafficking gang run by local Top Doctors to rip through north Wales for years and to even kill witnesses.
It was a PC from Bethesda Police Station who knew that F had been thumped by a Sergeant in the loo when he was arrested and framed as I described above. In spite of all that had happened to him, F was very extrovert and friendly and I witnessed him cheerily chatting to a PC from Bethesda and saying ‘you remember that Sergeant hitting me don’t you, you were the one who was there’. The PC looked a bit embarrassed and shuffled about uncomfortably. One wonders what else that PC had witnessed.
Vulnerable people were regularly harassed, threatened, assaulted, robbed, molested, made homeless and it was very often employees of the ‘services’ who did this. It was all just completely ignored. What happened to kids in care and psych patients just did not matter, even when they were found dead.

 

In about 1996, as the staff of the Hergest Unit was sinking amongst the chaos and dysfunction yet were maintaining their delusion that the mental health services in Gwynedd were ‘among the best in Europe’, a man from outside of the area heard many personal accounts of the activities of Dafydd and the paedophiles. An Angel who was doing a PhD with Manchester University arrived to conduct research with Hergest patients regarding treating severe mental illness ‘by talking interventions’. A number of ‘schizophrenics’ were asked if they would like to ‘talk’ to this Angel. That Angel must have had quite a surprise, because at least three of the nutters who had been selected for ‘taking treatment’ had been victims of Dafydd and the paedophiles and they will have said something about this to him.

It was a real laugh because F was selected for talking treatment. Interestingly enough F was asked by Dr Tony Francis (Dr X) if he’d like to talk about Hendrix to the Angel. F of course said yes, because he loved talking about Hendrix. However, when F met the Angel F asked him what his research was about. The Angel told F that he would interview F, then F would be given ‘therapy’ and then he would re-interview F in a couple of months time and if F’s beliefs had changed, then the Angel knew that the therapy had worked. Whereupon F told the Angel ‘well you are therefore assuming that I am wrong and you are right so I’m not going to bother to talk to you’ and left the room.

F later said to me ‘I’m fucking sick of this lot telling me that Hendrix wasn’t murdered when I know that he was’.

1996. Kathy Etchingham. Monika. The Waterhouse Inquiry.

Jeff Crowther, a psychiatric nurse manager at the Hergest Unit, later became very irked when F told him that he would never speak to anyone about Hendrix again. Then Dr Bob Tresman had a go and said to F ‘are you really telling us that people’s lives are at risk if you talk about Hendrix?’, to which F replied ‘yes’.

 

Before he relocated to north Wales, Tony Francis worked at Manchester alongside Dafydd’s mate Dr Bob Hobson, who had been concealing Dafydd’s wrongdoing for years (see post ‘The Mentor’). Whilst at Manchester, Francis worked with Professor Ian Brockington’s team – Brockington then took up a Chair alongside Robert Bluglass and the other paedophiles’ friends at Birmingham University (see post ‘Ian Brockington’s Mischief’).

 

One of the defences of Dafydd mounted by the drips at the Hergest Unit was that as well as ‘helping drug addicts’, Dafydd was ‘good at getting people Army pensions’. I described in my post ‘A Very Bad PR Man’ how I found out that Dafydd was somehow securing Army pensions for people who had been thrown out of the Army in disgrace. I only gained documentary evidence of this recently, but I knew that Dafydd was doing some rather strange things in relation to Army pensions years ago in the 1990s, as a result of a jolly little joke that F played on Dafydd.

F had also become suspicious of Dafydd’s ability to secure Army pensions for the most unlikely of people. So one evening F rang Dafydd, claiming to be a Brigadier with a brother who was a Colonel, who were both in need of Army pensions. Furthermore to add to the fun, the Col suffered from Tourette’s syndrome, the particular symptoms of which were that the Col burst into loud laughter every time that Dafydd actually said anything. Dafydd had been so highly recommended to the Brigadier and the Col by an unidentified person who had heard about Dafydd’s unrivalled clinical skills, that the Brigadier and the Col had come straight up from Aldershot to seek him out. They were staying in a B&B in Holyhead and ringing Dafydd from a public phone box.

The Col rang first. Dafydd answered and of course the Col pissed himself laughing. Dafydd slammed the phone down. So then the Brigadier rang. The Brigadier explained to Dafydd about his brother’s Tourette’s and apologised to Dafydd – the Brigadier had told his brother not to ring Dafydd, but the Col had rushed out of the room, down to the phone box and had rung Dafydd. Then the Col had returned in tears because Dafydd had hung up on him. The Brigadier told Dafydd that the Col had developed Tourette’s after serving in the Falklands – the Col was suffering from PTSD and had not been the same since Goose Green. Dafydd replied ‘interesting, interesting’. The Brigadier told Dafydd that they were desperate for help, that ‘money was no object’ and that what they really wanted was Army pensions. Dafydd responded that would be no problem at all and ‘I’m here for you and your brother’.

However the wicked old bugger Dafydd never apologised for making the Col cry.

There was a lot of background racket whilst the Brigadier was on the phone to Dafydd and Dafydd apologised and explained that he had an S4C film crew there, but he really did want to help the Brigadier and the Col. Dafydd then asked the Brigadier for his phone number so that he could ring him back once S4C had finished. F of course was in the phone box at Rachub and couldn’t give Dafydd a number, so F made a number up and the conversation continued. Then Dafydd asked for the Brigadier’s number again – on the grounds that ‘I’ve had nuisance phone calls rather similar to this one’. At which point F observed that no he hadn’t, the others were completely different and rung off.

To quote Tom Jones when he sung ‘Delilah’ – ‘She stood there, laughing’. Actually I was in hysterics, I could not believe what I was hearing.

Since F’s bit of fun that evening, I have wondered and wondered who on earth was rubber stamping all those Army pensions on the basis of Dafydd’s ‘assessments’.

I think that I might have found out who it was.

From 1996-2005 Professor Sir Mansel Aylward was Chief Medical Adviser, Medical Director and Chief Scientist of the DWP and Chief Medical Adviser and Head of Profession at the Veteran’s Agency, MoD. He was on the board of the Benefits Agency Medical Service in the 1990s.

So Mansel, why did you ever take the word of a complete idiot involved in serious crime whilst you were dishing out the Army pensions? An idiot who clearly knew nothing about Tourette’s, PTSD, Goose Green or indeed anything else, but who was ready and willing as soon as he heard the magic words ‘money is no object’?

And whilst you’re about it Mansel, the Col still wants an apology after Dafydd made him cry.

Mansel assumed responsibility for Army pensions in 1996, which was the year after Dafydd ‘retired’ and the North Wales Hospital ‘closed down’, although neither of those things happened.

 

Professor Sir Mansel Aylward is now Director of the Centre for Psychosocial Research, Occupational and Physician Health at Cardiff University School of Medicine. He bagged his K in the 2010 New Year Honours and was made a Freeman of the Borough of Merthyr Tydfil in 2013.

Mansel is Chair of Public Health Wales, which as explained in my post ‘The International Language of Screaming’, is a receptacle for paedophiles’ friends who have been kicked out of everywhere but whom no-one dares turn loose because of the dirt that they have on everyone else.

 

So how did Meri Huws manage to land so many senior jobs when she was a drunken harpie who didn’t know her arse from her elbow?

 

Aylward’s wife Angela was involved in setting up a company called Mediprobe, trading under the name Nationwide Medical Examination Advisory Service Ltd., which arranged for the agency’s doctors to work for insurance companies. Mansel was involved in the establishment of the Work Capability Assessment test. When he left the DWP, he headed the UnumProvident Centre for Psychosocial and Disability Research, at Cardiff University.

Aylward has been criticized for giving academic credibility to the biopsychosocial model, which was said to be the basis of the Cameron’s Gov’ts disability benefits crackdown.

I think that Angel from Manchester University who heard so much about a gang of sex offenders from the Hergest patients more than 20 years ago was working on the assumption of a ‘biopsychosocial model’. It was certainly easier than admitting that gangsters were running the public services.

Mansel is Chair of the Advisory Board of HCML, a ‘provider of rehabilitation and case management services to insurance companies and the corporate sector’ and Chair of the Bevan Commission, a group of international experts who advise the Welsh Gov’t Minister for Health and Social Services.

 

Image result for skeleton in the cupboard

 

Yesterday a promotional e mail arrived in my inbox concerning a book that the University of Wales Press thinks that I might like to purchase. I don’t think that I’ll bother, because it was my idea that was plagiarised in order to write this book – I met the author when I was still working at Bangor University and I have not forgotten her.

At the time I was interested in publishing on the role of Nonconformism on the identity of women in Wales in the 19th and 20th centuries. I was building up a reputation for publishing on new analyses of gendered identity in the recent history of Wales at the time and Brown and me were the only people doing anything like this. I had recently had a bad experience when someone else at Bangor University plagiarised my work, successfully submitted it to a grant funding body and gave the dosh to her PhD student – who had failed his PhD as a result of her appalling supervision, was having to resubmit and needed a salary whilst he rewrote – and friendlier colleagues had told me not to discuss any of my work within this woman’s earshot again.

So I was a little cautious when I received a phone call from a vicar who was trying to build an academic career as well telling me that she was working on the gendered identity of Welsh women with an emphasis on the role played by Nonconformism. Because that was exactly what I was just developing and I knew that there was bugger all published about it. However she asked if she could meet me so I sad yes. It was an interesting meeting.

This vicar claimed to have a PhD in gender theory but she didn’t seem to know anything about gender theory. Neither did she know anything about previous work on gendered identity. She was a female vicar whose idea of an interest in gender theory was, well, being a female vicar. I am sure that it would be possible to publish some very interesting work on the experience of female vicars in the Church in Wales, but I don’t think that she was going to. She then asked if she could read my data – after having asked me for elementary advice on how to collect such data. By now alarm bells were ringing loudly. Then she dropped the bomb – she was a friend of Delyth Morris.

The dreadful Dr Delyth Morris aka Duckula was a legend at Bangor University. She lied, she cheated, she plagiarised, she bullied. It was Duckula who had plagiarised my previous idea and used the resulting funding to pay the salary of the PhD student whom she had let down so badly whilst he rewrote and resubmitted.

At this point I told the ignoramus of a vicar that I would not be releasing any of my data, particularly to someone who had been sent in my direction by Duckula.

The vicar has now – YEARS later – written the book that Duckula was obviously told that I was planning, because that is the book that UWP are offering to sell me ie. ‘Women, Identity and Religion in Wales’ by Manon Ceridwen James.

Manon: after you paid me a visit with the intention of stealing my data as well as my idea, I spoke to a friend who is a sociologist of religion who knows you. He told me that you are a bloody nightmare and that I really should give you a very wide berth if you ever contacted me again.

 

This is not the first time that I have seen an idea of mine and Brown’s on sale by UWP. Just before I left Bangor, I e mailed a number of literature scholars in Swansea and Aberystwyth Universities and invited them to join the Madness and Literature Network which Brown established, explaining that we were interested in publishing some work in this field about women in Wales because there was no Welsh scholarship in this area. I heard nothing from any of them. So imagine my surprise when three years ago I was walking through Aberystwyth and there staring at me out of a bookshop window was a book written by one of those whom I e mailed with a remarkably similar title to the sort of suggestions that I made in my e mail. I had a quick look through the book and it was not that impressive. I told a former senior colleague from Bangor about my discovery and I observed that it wasn’t even a very good book, I don’t know why they bothered. To which my former colleague replied ‘well SHE won’t know that her book’s no good’.

No, she won’t. Like Duckula and Manon, she’s not very bright, she doesn’t know her stuff but she did hear that Brown and Baker had some good ideas so she stole them.

 

Manon Ceridwen James is certainly networked with the best. The book comes highly recommended by one Emeritus Professor Densil Morgan of the University of Wales Trinity St David. Densil and his toadies were ejected from the Bangor University School of Theology some years ago as a parting gift for the Oppressed from the VC just before he retired. How thankful so many people were for that after the Great Terror of Densil and his partner in crime Catrin Haf, a Great Terror that had persisted for years and ruined the life of many a colleague and student. Densil and Catrin sought sanctuary at Trinity St David’s and since their arrival most of the originals at the Theology Dept at Trinity St David’s have found jobs elsewhere. See my post ‘The Battle Of The Cowshed’ for the story of Densil and Catrin Haf, their many victims and Densil’s admiration for the forefathers of the paedophiles’ friends.

The flyer for Manon’s book tells me that Manon is the Director of Ministry for the diocese of St Asaph, Church in Wales and Honorary Canon of St Asaph Cathedral.

Manon will have learnt a few things if she’s working at St Asaph Cathedral. Such as the activities of Hugh Davies, the choirmaster and organist at St Asaph Cathedral, 1985-98, who was later imprisoned for the possession of child porn. One of Davies’s former pupils killed himself after alleging that Davies had sexually abused him. Perhaps Manon also knows the prodigious son of Geoff, the former landlord of the Douglas Arms Hotel in Bethesda. I can’t remember the name of  Geoff’s son, but he won a scholarship to Eton on the basis of his musical talents – playing the organ no less – and was featured on TV. It was in the mid-1990s, at the time of the demands for a public inquiry into the abuse of children in north Wales, at the same time as all those other talented youngsters were discovered whose families were facilitating the paedophile ring which everybody maintained did not exist.

Geoff knew a lot about corruption among professional people in north Wales. Geoff was a magistrate and a corrupt copper who arrested me in London in 1991 after the paedophiles’ friends in north Wales had perjured themselves, told me that he used to be stationed in north Wales and that he and his mates enjoyed themselves chucking local Bethesda boys in Llyn Ogwen after giving them a kicking and ‘if Geoff was on the bench we knew that we’d be OK’. See post ‘The Most Dangerous Man In The World – Part III’.

What that copper didn’t know as he did his Life On Mars bit to impress a Bird, was that this particular bird knew that his crimes were rather more serious than just chucking the local teenagers into the lake for a dip to wash away the blood. I remember local young men being found dead in Llyn Ogwen after having ‘drowned whilst midnight swimming when drunk’. Local boys didn’t go swimming in Llyn Ogwen – the outdoor crowd did, but not those young men from Bethesda. Llyn Ogwen is several miles up the valley, it is cold and wet in winter and not many of the young working class men in Bethesda who were being beaten up by Geoff’s mates in the police took part in outdoor pursuits.

 

One of Geoff’s regulars who could be seen in the Douglas virtually every evening was Dr Bob Tresman, a psychiatrist who worked at the Hergest Unit.

 

When my friend warned me about Manon Ceridwen, I am fairly sure that he told me that she had previously been the curate or vicar in Llanllechid. There was a curate or vicar in Llanllechid back in the 1990s called Manon, because I knew someone who had an encounter with her who was seriously unimpressed. Someone I knew in Rachub found Satanic graffiti on the inside of a building in the village and became very concerned. I took the view that it was probably teenagers messing around but this person maintained that there are some odd people on this earth and that it would be worth finding out what had been going on. The building with the Satanic graffiti was just three doors down from a man who was not only dealing in class A drugs but was also sexually exploiting local women on a very big scale and had a keen interest in Black Magic and Aleister Crowley, although that particular man was capable of causing quite enough damage without summoning up assistance from Satan.

The resident of Rachub who found the Satanic graffiti decided to contact the local vicar – a new female vicar called Manon. He told her of his concerns and she didn’t share them. He then explained that just doors away from the Satanic graffiti lived a man with highly problematic behaviour who also dealt in class A drugs. Manon told the caller that she really wasn’t interested in hearing about Satanic graffiti because she wasn’t a painter and decorator. No, but she was a member of the clergy of the Church in Wales and some of her colleagues had been involved with perpetrating and concealing child sexual abuse.

I am not entirely sure if the Manon who came to steal my data was the same Manon who wasn’t a painter and decorater, but Manon Ceridwen James’s mate Duckula the Plagiarist knows a great deal about the paedophile ring which operated in north Wales, because before Duckula was an academic who didn’t understand or take an interest in academic work (Duckula memorably told me that ‘Althussar was just a load of old rubbish really’ – OK Duckula, we’ll forget about him then), Duckula was a social worker employed by Gwynedd County Council…

Duckula was certainly a woman of contradictions. Duckula particularly hated the English owners of second homes in north Wales and was delighted when her daughter Gillian – Daughter of Duckula – struck up a romantic relationship with one of the few people in north Wales who did serve a prison sentence for offences involving bombs. So Duckula was keeping it very quiet indeed that she owned a second home in France. Duckula had much previous which impacted upon her role as a magistrate in Holyhead, particularly the bribery and corruption previous…

 

It might be worth me breaking my silence here regarding the man who benefited from the salary that Duckula raised by plagiarising my idea. I was told by another PhD student that the young man concerned knew that Duckula had nicked my work to raise a salary for him and was worried lest I found out. I had found out, but I took the view that it was Duckula who had plagiarised my work not him and I wasn’t going to blame a PhD student who was having to rewrite his thesis because of Duckula’s gross incompetence. In fact it was the English speaking sociologists in Bangor – including me – who helped Duckula’s victim rewrite and resubmit his thesis, whilst he lived on the salary raised by the theft of my idea. The young man subsequently obtained his PhD and then landed a full-time well-paid Welsh medium lecturing post at Bangor, on a special scheme which reserved jobs for Welsh speakers. I don’t have a problem with such schemes because there is a shortage of Welsh speaking academics in many subjects and I believe that minority languages are worth keeping alive.

What I did have a problem with was hearing that some months after I and the other English speaking academics had saved this young man’s career, he had told an outstanding young Polish academic that she shouldn’t be in her job because jobs at Bangor should be reserved for Welsh people.

Dr Cynog Prys needs to remember – before he leads a rendering of ‘Tomorrow Belongs To Me’ – that it was thanks to one of the leading lights in Welsh medium education at Bangor that he failed his fucking PhD and it was only the Englishers who offered to help him after that disaster.

Cynog’s uncle was Chief Exec of the Welsh Language Board and his dad is a retired social worker…

Should Cynog or Manon or anyone else who has to plagiarise other people’s ideas to get by wish to steal anymore of my work, they should feel free to publish extracts from this blog wherever they feel like. How about sharing it with your dad’s former colleagues then Cynog?

 

The bumph that was sent to me promoting Manon Ceridwen’s volume was accompanied by some free PR for the R.S. Thomas Centre at Bangor University. I always marvel at the irony of Bangor University housing the R.S. Thomas Centre, because although R.S. Thomas was a UCNW graduate, his diaries show that he had a very low opinion of his fellow students at UCNW and made notes about them being a bunch of Welsh plebs. As an older man, R.S. Thomas reinvented himself as a ‘Welsh nationalist’ who took a Cynog world view that the English should not be settling in Wales. R.S. Thomas was a very bad tempered vicar who spent his later years living at Rhiw and who revelled in pretending not to be able to speak English when he met English tourists who had got lost. He did not speak Welsh when he was young, he spoke English with a very plummy accent and for a long while was a vicar in I think Shropshire, but reinvented himself as Welsh later in life. He had one son who emigrated to the Far East and who didn’t seem to like his father very much.

The man in charge of the R.S. Thomas Centre is Professor Tony Brown, a retired member of staff from the School of English. Tony Brown is one of the dwindling number of former members of staff still alive who worked at UCNW when it was run entirely by the paedophiles’ friends and for their own benefit, when a major branch of the trafficking gang was working via the Student Health Centre.

Tony Brown was a colleague of Dave Nunn, the lecturer who became a Hergest patient in the 1990s after he had a breakdown. The Dave Nunn who disappeared after he told some Top Doctors who had intentions of sectioning him that he had read the farcical High Court injunction that Dafydd had served on me…

Would Tony Brown like to tell us all why the paedophiles’ friends targeted Dave Nunn?

 

The Welsh media are reporting that Tawel Fan, the ward at the centre of the scandal involving the serious abuse of EMI patients at Ysbyty Gwynedd may be demolished and many millions are to be spent on a new building. So the Betsi have identified the usual source of blame after yet another scandal involving the abuse of vulnerable people – it was the fault of the building. The abuse of patients at the North Wales Hospital Denbigh was going to stop when the patients were moved into a new building. The abuse of patients at Ysbyty Gwynedd was going to stop when the brand new up-to-the-minute Hergest Unit was built. For the last few years the abuse, neglect and deaths of the patients at Hergest have been blamed on that terrible building that was never any good from the day one. Which is weird, Cos I Was There and the staff were really proud of that building – the patients were given tours of it before it officially opened.

I’m not sure how many times I need to repeat this. It is not buildings that neglect and abuse patients. It is not buildings that forge documents, perjure themselves in order to secure convictions against patients who have complained or throw firebombs into other buildings to kill witnesses. It is criminals and as long as the ‘services’ are run by the remnants of a sex trafficking gang and their friends, relatives and descendants, people will continue to be abused.

 

Meanwhile, the Guardian is reporting once more on the thousands of Angels who have been attacked by Dangerous Psychiatric Patients. Oh well, people in the NHS unions are obviously reading this blog, so I should take it as a compliment.

More blog posts coming soon BMA, RCN, UNISON, UNITE et al…

 

 

 

‘They Planned To Put Acid In All The Reservoirs…’

I’ve just finished reading Stephen Bentley’s book ‘Undercover: Operation Julie – The Inside Story’. Stephen Bentley was one of the undercover police officers who worked on Operation Julie the celebrated undercover police investigation which ran between 1976-78. Operation Julie resulted in a huge drugs bust in 1977 and was followed in March 1978 by the sentencing of 15 people at Bristol Crown Court who were jailed in total for 124 years. The trial at Bristol was presided over by Mr Justice Park aka Sir Hugh Park, but there were numerous other associated trials in lower courts as well which dealt with more than 100 defendents, as well as a raid in the Dordogne in the south of France. Operation Julie was an investigation which spanned much of the UK and involved 11 police forces, but most of the action took place in rural mid-Wales.

Numerous myths surround Operation Julie – many of them have been denounced as being untrue even by the officers who worked on the case and others have been denounced as being untrue by friends of the people who were prosecuted. Some things that have been accepted as ‘fact’ by everyone are highly improbable if one just thinks a little bit about what was alleged to have happened. One thing that everybody agrees on – including Stephen Bentley – is that Operation Julie cost a huge amount of money, was hampered by police corruption and did nothing at all to impede the tide of hard drugs that had begun pouring into the UK as a result of organised crime.

The stars of Operation Julie were a group of hippies who were living in mid-Wales in the mid-1970s and who had allegedly set up an LSD factory with the intention of manufacturing enormous quantities of the drug in order to spike the reservoirs supplying water to Birmingham with the aim of enablling the Brummies to receive the beneficial effects of getting off their heads. The spiking of the reservoirs story is the one thing that many people think that they know about Operation Julie, but that is also something for which there doesn’t seem to be much evidence. Some of the people from mid-Wales who were convicted did subscribe to the idea that taking LSD was a good idea – they took LSD themselves and had no doubt made a bit of it, but that’s about where the truth ends. As the years have passed, there has been increasing disquiet expressed about what happened during Operation Julie, the lies that the police fed to the media – that the media then obediently and very successfully promulgated – and regarding the fact at least one of those imprisoned did no more than make sandwiches for her boyfriend who was alleged to be making the LSD. Bentley himself claims that during the course of Operation Julie the undercover officers uncovered far more serious crime which was ‘handed over’ to others to deal with.

Operation Julie was conducted whilst business was booming for John Allen and his associates’ empire of child prostitution, porn and hard drugs in north Wales. Allen’s children’s homes, the Bryn Alyn Community, were receiving children from local authorities across England and Wales and Allen also had a villa in the south of France where he was taking children for ‘holidays’. Operation Julie could not have failed to have stumbled across Allen’s criminal empire.

The principal ‘LSD factory’ which was placed under observation by Operation Julie was located in a house at Tregaron, the home of Richard Kemp and his girlfriend Christine Bott. Another house, Plas Llysyn, owned by American Paul Arnaboldi – Kemp’s friend – in another part of mid-Wales, Carno near Llanidloes, was also observed. Bentley and another undercover officer infiltrated a village called Llandewi Brefi whilst disguised as hippies. Llandewi Brefi was targeted because a man called Alston Hughes aka ‘Smiles’ lived there. Alston was English and had connections in London and Birmingham and was alleged to be the distributor of the vast quantities of LSD produced nearby – he received an eight year prison sentence. All this surveillance and infiltration was happening on the patch of the Dyfed-Powys police force.

At that time, there was abuse of children in care happening in Dyfed and Pembrokeshire (Dyfed-Powys Police cover Pembrokeshire). Ioan Bowen Rees, the County Secretary of Dyfed County Council, moved to Gwynedd County Council to take up the post of Chief Exec in 1980, where he remained until 1991. It was on Ioan Bowen Rees’s watch that organised child abuse in the children’s homes in Gwynedd reached dizzy heights, with children being trafficked to London and Brighton (see posts ‘I Know Nuzzing…’ and ‘Are You Local?’). Alison Taylor, a social worker from Gwynedd, blew the whistle on the child abuse loudly and clearly to Bowen Rees and his Director of Social Services Lucille Hughes – Alison was sacked and the abuse continued. Bowen Rees’s idea of investigating Alison’s concerns was to invite his former colleagues from Dyfed County Council up to ‘review’ the children’s homes in Gwynedd. Under Bowen Rees the chaos, corruption and fuckwittery in Gwynedd Social Services reached new highs (see post ‘I Know Nuzzing…’). Gwynedd was a by-word for a Council that was a law unto itself, founded upon nepotism and cronyism. Operation Julie could not have missed the stories emanating out of Gwynedd – Gwynedd is only a few miles north of Aberystwyth Police Station, the venue for the meeting of the Operation Julie team for briefing and it borders Machynlleth, where it was claimed the crucial evidence was found that led to the establishment of the whole enormous police operation. At the time there was serious institutionalised corruption in the North Wales Constabulary/Police and in the legal system across Wales. The drug squad based in Gwynedd in particular were totally bent and I personally know people whom they framed and who ended up in prison (see post ‘Top Of The Cops’). One man who was fitted up by the drug squad in Gwynedd and then violently assaulted by a police officer in Bangor Police Station ended up in Risley Remand Centre and was then transferred to the ‘care’ of Dr Dafydd Alun Jones at the North Wales Hospital Denbigh for a year after Dafydd diagnosed him with ‘cannabis psychosis’. There was never an investigation into what happened to him – or his wife who also had cocaine planted on her – at the hands of the police. The Chief Constable of North Wales throughout the paedophile and serious corruption years who presided over some truly extraordinary events was Sir Philip Myers (see post ‘Top Of The Cops’).

I suspect that as with the prosecutions of paedophiles in north Wales, Operation Julie made a great display of prosecuting and imprisoning the small fry – and very likely a number of people who were completely innocent – whilst ignoring some very serious criminals. In his book Bentley mentions uncovering links to the CIA.

Although the publicity in the wake of the Operation Julie painted a terrible picture of the hippies on trial who were running the ‘biggest LSD factory in the world, supplying 90% of the world’s LSD’, there is plenty of evidence that they weren’t quite the people portrayed in the media. In mid-Wales their neighbours actually liked them – yes they were hippies, but they were friendly and well-educated (two of those involved were medical doctors and one had a PhD in chemistry). When the undercover police first infiltrated mid-Wales, their cover was nearly blown because their behaviour was so much worse than the people whom they had placed under surveillance. Bentley’s own account of himself in his book isn’t too flattering – he stresses that he was never a corrupt officer, but he seems to have known many people who were. I can understand the difficulty that he and his colleagues encountered when they tried to pass themselves off as hippies…

After Operation Julie, Stephen Bentley left the police force and in 1997 he became a barrister – he mentions that the recreational drug of choice for barristers is cocaine…

Stephen Bentley is now living in the Philippines.

Dr Christine Bott – who ended up being sentenced to nine years in prison for daring to be the girlfriend of Richard Kemp (the ‘drug chemist’) and for making meals for the ‘gang’ – had read medicine at Liverpool University and then worked as a GP. What she really liked doing was keeping and breeding goats and she was well-known in mid-Wales for this. Richard Kemp had done his PhD at Liverpool University, which was where he had met Christine – Richard was sentenced to 13 yrs.

Christine and Richard were students at Liverpool in the 1960s. Liverpool University produced graduates who did very much worse things than Christine and Richard. Whilst Dr Dafydd Alun Jones was at Liverpool University in the early 60s he was visiting IRA activists in order to pick up a bit of advice to use in activist activities back home in Wales (see post ‘A Network Stretching Back Decades’). The security services will have known about Dafydd – they had all the Welsh nationalist activists under observation, because of their links to the IRA and the Gov’ts fears that Welsh activism might become very violent. Stephen Bentley talks about the FWA (Free Wales Army) in his book – one of the leaders of the FWA was Julian Cayo-Evans, who was based in Lampeter and Bentley and his colleagues used to bump into supporters of the FWA. The Welsh political blog Jac O The North is written by Royston Jones who was a member of the FWA and a friend of Cayo – at one point (I think during the investiture) Jac went into hiding in Ireland because he was surrounded by the security services wherever he went in Wales. Of course the security services knew about Dafydd – but the security services helped conceal the Westminster Paedophile Ring, which was being supplied with child prostitutes by the paedophile gang who Dafydd was assisting.

Professor Robert Owen, the Medical Ombudsman for Wales who concealed Dafydd’s wrongdoing (see post ‘Enter Professor Robert Bluglass CBE’), was Professor of Surgery at Liverpool Medical School. North Wales was/is packed with Top Doctors and other professionals who had been educated at Liverpool University who were among the paedophiles’ friends. None of them were ever arrested. Yet a well-liked GP who kept goats and lived quietly in deepest mid-Wales ended up being sentenced to nine years in prison on the basis of the alleged activities of her boyfriend.

Dr Christine Bott had also worked at Charing Cross Hospital. We know that the paedophiles’ friends enjoy the support of their colleagues in the London teaching hospitals. I wonder what Christine knew about who. We can’t ask her, because she is dead now, as is Richard and a number of the others who were sentenced. When Christine and Richard came out of prison they kept a low profile, so no-one ever heard their side of the story. They were welcomed back to mid-Wales, so people there couldn’t have had much of a problem with them. What we did hear much about were the over-blown fantasies of dodgy coppers in terms of the activities of hippies – the police revealed that a rat ‘which had died from an overdose of LSD’ had been found at one property. At Plas Llysyn at Carno, samples of water from the cellar were taken which incredibly enough contained LSD ‘which matched LSD samples’ in the possession of the police. A frog and a mole were also taken away for testing – it was revealed that they’d been on acid as well. But beyond ‘traces’ of LSD, nothing was discovered after the police had broken into the Plas in the belief that it was a constituent part of the biggest LSD factory in the world. The police knew why they didn’t find anything though – it was because the hippies had abandoned the Plas! So how did the hippies manage to make their getaway along with all the equipment and goodies whilst the police were watching the place?

As is often the case with raids by the drug squad, by the time that the Operation Julie cases came to trial, the police boasted of having discovered a wonderland of goodies worth an absolute fortune – when the police didn’t actually produce the mountains of LSD, allegations of a huge stash of LSD buried somewhere in woodland in mid-Wales were bandied about. Likewise, the value of the LSD that the police claimed to have recovered didn’t equate to what was actually recovered by the police (the situation conjures up the old favourite which made an outing on one of Mel Smith and Gruff Rhys Jones’s programmes years ago – ‘that means the police are paying three times as much for their drugs as the rest of us’). The event which actually precipitated the establishment of Operation Julie and which sounded even more like the fantasy of a dodgy copper was a lot more worrying than stories about rats, frogs and moles overdosing on hallucinogens, as we shall see.

In the mid-70s, a number of senior police officers – including some of those who led Operation Julie – were trying to persuade the Home Office to set up a national police force and a national drug squad. My post ‘Little Things Hitting Each Other’ describes the serious corruption at the top of the Home Office’s drugs branch at this time, which went hand in hand with the corruption on the part of some of the Top Doctors holding Home Office drugs licences and treating addicts, including Dafydd.

Prior to Operation Julie, Detective Chief Inspector Dick Lee of the Thames Valley Police Drug Squad maintained that he had noticed a huge increase in the amount of LSD ‘arriving into the UK’ whilst he policed pop festivals in the south of England. Dick Lee was someone who wanted a national drug squad created which operated independently of the rest of the force. The international suppliers of LSD in mid-Wales were only ever brought to the attention of Dick Lee after Gerry Thomas, an associate of David Solomon – a Californian who was associated with Timothy Leary and who had been introduced to Richard Kemp in 1968 by a university colleague – was caught trying to smuggle cannabis into Canada. Thomas had known Richard Kemp and Kemp’s friends and Thomas gave information to the authorities in Canada in return for a shorter sentence. The information that he supplied was that the ‘biggest acid lab in the world’ was being run in mid-Wales. Thomas named Richard Kemp, Christine Bott, David Solomon and ‘a man called Henry’. This ‘intelligence’ was passed across the Atlantic and reached the ears of Dick Lee. Richard Kemp ‘was known’ to be living in Wales and ‘driving a red Range Rover’ – well of course this was ‘known’, he and Christine weren’t trying to hide, they lived in Tregaron with their goats and Christine even appeared in the local press with her prize-winning goats. Dick Lee alerted the Dyfed-Powys Police and Detective Sergeant Richie Parry – who was in charge of the Dyfed-Powys Drug Squad pre-Operation Julie – contacted his old drug squad colleague Dai Rees who was now a traffic inspector in Dyfed-Powys Police and told him to get in touch in the event of any ‘incidents’ involving a red Range Rover.

As so often happened in matters involving the drug squad in those days, within weeks – in April 1975 – ‘by pure coincidence’ the control room heard about a serious car crash near Machynlleth involving a red Range Rover. It was of course Richard Kemp’s car and he and Christine were in it at the time. The accident was a serious one – Kemp’s Range Rover had hit another car head on which contained a Minister and his pregnant wife. The Minister’s wife was killed and the Minister was seriously injured, although Kemp and Christine ‘escaped with their lives’. Kemp’s Range Rover was impounded by the police and searched.

During the search, the police found six strips of paper in the car which when ‘reconstructed’ into one piece was found to have the words ‘hydrazine hydrate’ written on it,a key ingredient in the manufacture of LSD. The police therefore had the evidence that they needed against Richard Kemp – whom Dick Lee already ‘knew’ was part of an enormous drugs ring – the evidence needed to set up a huge national police operation involving those senior officers who had been so keen to do this but needed to persuade the Home Office and ACPO that there was justification for it. Why a man with a PhD in chemistry who was allegedly mass-producing LSD  – indeed 90% of the global LSD supply – would need to write the name of the main ingredient on a piece of paper and cut it into small pieces which were then strewn around his car was never explained. This ‘evidence’ is as implausible as the physiologically impossible ‘evidence’ on which the Rev Emyr Owen from Tywyn was convicted in 1985, after he was accused of chopping penises off corpses and eliciting erections in the severed penises – penises which were never actually found (see post ‘The Silence Of The Welsh Lambs’).

So it must have been most convenient when Richard Kemp crashed his car in Machynlleth – just after the police had been told to look out for any incidents involving that car – killing a pregnant Minister’s wife in the process (the local people liked Richard and Christine remember which could have caused the police difficulties), whilst those scraps of paper with ‘hydrazine hydrate’ written on them were in the car belonging to Mr Big. The only thing that the police seemed to have forgotten to mention was that the writing on the paper was in lemon juice and that they read it by warming the paper up, a la Fatty in the ‘Five Find-Outers’ as conjured up by the imagination of Enid Blyton. Although I seem to remember that Fatty’s nemesis was actually a foul incompetent policeman called Mr Goon – one wonders how Fatty never found himself fitted up for dealing to the ‘Secret Seven’.

The bits of paper constituted the solid evidence needed for Dick Lee and his mates such as Detective Inspector Derek Godfrey from Scotland Yard to convince the Home Office and ACPO that a massive police operation across the UK was needed. Not that ACPO will have needed that much convincing – the President was Sir Philip Myers the Chief Constable of North Wales. In Feb 1976 a meeting was held at Brecon between a number of Chief Constables and senior drug squad officers and a multiforce operation was arranged which evolved into Operation Julie. In May 1976 officers from Operation Julie had moved into the house overlooking Richard Kemp’s cottage and had placed him and Christine under constant surveillance. After Operation Julie concluded, other police officers revealed their concerns that not only had Operation Julie been the preserve of some not very competent senior officers with massive egos who liked to think of themselves as supercops, but that the whole Operation had been conducted in secrecy without the knowledge of or scrutiny of anyone else. Dick Lee had created exactly what he and his mates had dreamed of – an ‘elite’ squad independent of the rest of the force, answerable to no-one.

In 1976 a man working with children was found guilty by Talgarth Magistrates Court (Talgarth is near Brecon) of two counts of indecent assault on boys from the Bryn Alyn Community.

Although in Dick Lee’s opinion Richard Kemp was Mr Big, even after the police put him and his friends at Plas Llysyn under intense surveillance they didn’t find the sort of evidence that one would have expected to find in world leading LSD factories, although Neville Dunnett, a Home Office scientist and forensics expert, believed that the Plas was an LSD factory. Obviously the police found the animals who had all been tripping and the water from the cellar which was obliging enough to match samples of LSD in the possession of the police, but they didn’t find much else – until on the day of the big swoop in March 1977 when they did dig up some LSD making equipment from a well at Plas Llysyn. The police didn’t actually manage to even find much LSD in their first raid on Kemp’s house in March 1977, the date on which Julie conducted simultaneous raids on 87 homes across England, Wales and the Dordogne. It was only when they raided Kemp and Christine’s house again in Dec 1977 that they found £1000 cash in a package and a plastic box containing the mind-blowing quantity of LSD  that confirmed that the biggest LSD factory in the world was down at Tregaron run by the boyfriend of a doctor who bred goats.

The biggest LSD factory in the world certainly took some detecting. The surveillance equipment used to maintain a 24 hour watch on Richard Kemp and Christine Bott was top of the range stuff and had been supplied by the security services at Whitehall.

The centre of the action may have been in mid-Wales dangerously near to all those corrupt professionals who had a thing about hippies – whilst the corrupt professionals within spitting distance were afforded protection by the security services and the Home Office as they facilitated a paedophile ring with links to organised crime dealing in child prostitution, porn, drugs and trafficking – but the identities and backgrounds of some of the senior officers involved in Operation Julie is more than enough to ring alarm bells.

Stephen Bentley was plucked from the Hampshire Drug Squad to work on Operation Julie. He had grown up on Merseyside and before joining the Hampshire Drug Squad he had worked as a police officer in the Merseyside/Lancashire area. Bentley’s book mentions the most extraordinary situation involving the South West Lancashire CID Task Force before he went south  – they had set up their temporary HQ in Knowsley Hall, a stately home near Liverpool, the family seat of the Earl of Derby. Bentley explains that allowing the police to use Knowsley Hall as their HQ assisted the 18th Earl of Derby with the financial strain of the upkeep of his house. Earl Derby aka Lord Edward Stanley soon found a longer term solution to his financial problems – in 1971 he created Knowsley Zoo and Wildlife Park in the grounds of the house. Bentley does not tell us whether anyone questioned whether it was right and proper for the police to be camping out in someone’s stately home whilst they conducted enquiries.

Lord Edward Stanley was Deputy Lieutenant of Lancashire, 1946-51 and Lord Lieutenant of Lancashire, 1951-68. He was Pro-Chancellor of Lancaster University, 1964-71. Lord Stanley was Director of Martin’s Bank – as well as a Director of Granada Television.

There was a TV documentary made about Operation Julie, ‘from the police perspective’. It was made by Bob Mahoney for Tyne Tees TV.

So Dick Lee from Scotland Yard persuaded the Home Office and the ACPO to set up Operation Julie after the discovery of those scraps of paper in Kemp’s car. Bentley admits that in the mid-70s ‘corruption was rife in certain departments and squads’ of the Metropolitan Police. After Operation Julie, Lee left the police force and became a freelance journalist. Well after all that glowing publicity surrounding the hefty sentences handed down to those who were about to poison the country’s drinking water and addle the brains of our youth, Dick Lee was far too famous to waste his time being a policeman. Other members of the police force were critical of his published work, suggesting that the content compromised police operations.

In 1977 one of the venues used to hold the briefings regarding the Operation Julie raids was the fifth floor of Tintagel House at Lambeth, a building which housed some departments of the Met. The Flying Squad and other CID departments were excluded from the Tintagel House briefings, although Stephen Bentley mentions that the SPG (Special Control Group) attended ‘in force’. The SPG were the contingent from the Met who took advantage of their position to violently assault ethnic minorities and lefties. In 1979 one of the officers from the SPG succeeding in killing Blair Peach, a teacher who was on an anti-NF march. The officer was did this was never publicly named let alone charged although other members of the SPG admitted that they knew his identity.

The ‘nerve centre’ of Operation Julie was established at Devizes, in the HQ of the Wiltshire Constabulary – the hub of the operation later moved to Swindon. It has now been admitted by his Tory colleagues that Sir Peter Morrison, Tory MP for Chester, 1974-92 and an aide to Margaret Thatcher, was abusing children. Morrison was known to have abused children in children’s homes in north Wales. Peter Morrison’s father was John Morrison, the 1st Baron Margadale, Conservative MP for Salisbury, 1942-65, whose family seat and estates were in Wiltshire. John Morrison was Lord Lieutenant of Wiltshire, 1969-81. Lord Lieutenants tend to spend time with Chief Constables among other people. Peter Morrison’s elder brother Charles managed the family estates and in 1964 was elected as Tory MP for Devizes. He remained MP for Devizes until 1992 and was a friend and supporter of Ted Heath. Charles had been influential in Wiltshire before he became their MP – in 1958 he became a member of Wiltshire County Council and he Chaired the Education Committee, 1963-64. Charles Morrison’s wife was related to Ian Fleming by marriage and an article that Ian Fleming wrote entitled ‘To Westminster With Love’ opened with the words ‘Charles Morrison – Licensed To Kill’. Well somebody certainly was and it wasn’t a bunch of hippies in mid-Wales. Charles and Peter’s sister, Mary Morrison, has been Woman of the Bedchamber to Queen Elizabeth II for over fifty years.

Detective Superintendent Dennis Greenslade was drafted into Operation Julie from the Regional Crime Squad based in Bristol – Bentley remembers that Greenslade too was very unpopular – and Greenslade’s colleague from Avon and Somerset Police, Detective Chief Inspector Herbert also worked on Operation Julie. Greenslade was another officer who supported the creation of a national drug squad. The drug squad in the West Country during the 70s and 80s conducted themselves pretty much as the drug squad in North Wales did – dope smoking hippies and teenagers were pursued by the police and treated as serious criminals whilst far more serious crime was ignored. I knew of corruption in the drug squad in both Bristol and Taunton at the time of Operation Julie. Two corrupt drug squad detectives in Taunton were demoted and ordered to go back into uniform as plods on the beat, but they still managed to have the family of a local school girl who had been wrongly accused as a result of a school teacher’s idiocy threatened at gunpoint – whilst the man with the gun did this, he made a reference to the unsolved murder of a housewife from Bath, Mrs Beryl Culverwell. I also knew of a police constable from Bristol who was thrown out of the force for dealing in heroin but was quite miffed about this because he maintained that the other officers who had been doing it with him had all remained in the force. I knew of someone else who was arrested for the possession of cannabis, taken to Bridgwater Police Station where he was assaulted and then had his own cannabis sold back to him by the police. The Chief Constable of Avon and Somerset Constabulary, 1974-79 was Kenneth Steele.

Whilst Kenneth Steele and his officers were pursuing school children and threatening to murder members of their families, they accused Norman Scott of shooting his own dog as a publicity stunt after John Newton – the hit man who told the Old Bailey in 1979 that he had been paid by Jeremy Thorpe to kill Norman – killed Norman’s dog and then tried to kill Norman but was prevented from doing so when his gun jammed (see post ‘My How Things Haven’t Changed’).

There is a further link with Jeremy Thorpe mentioned by Stephen Bentley. Bentley talks about a lady called Pam who owned a house in the locality under observation and rented it out to some of the Operation Julie officers. Pam also had a home in Bayswater in London at Orme Square – Jeremy Thorpe was Pam’s neighbour. Pam had celeb connections by marriage – she was the ex of John Mayall who had been in a band with Eric Clapton. My post ’95 Glorious Years!’ explains how a great many very unpleasant things happened to Francis Ormsby-Gore in a way that leads me to suspect that he may have been targeted by the paedophiles’ friends. Francis’s sister Alice died from a heroin overdose – she was the former partner of Eric Clapton. Clapton has admitted that he treated her appallingly, as well as introducing her to the joys of heroin addiction, only to give it up himself leaving her in a mess.

Bentley mentions connections to other celebrities that I have previously heard had used those abused and trafficked by the paedophile gang in north Wales and he also mentions meeting Michael Wilding junior, the son of Elizabeth Taylor, at a party near Devil’s Bridge a few miles away from Aberystwyth. The interesting thing about rural Wales is that although it was and is sneered at by those who imagine themselves to be metropolitan sophisticates a cut above the sheepshaggers, Wales is quite nice really and the people who make derogatory comments about its permanent inhabitants do nonetheless like to make visits to Wales or to even acquire a second home there. Among those people there was always a cohort who liked taking drugs and having sex with much younger people who were poor and not in the least bit famous.

Whilst dealing with Pam, Bentley discovered a few things familiar to anyone who has had been on the receiving end of the paedophiles’ friends: that the police in Wales are very strongly influenced by Freemasonry and that this exerts a corrupting force upon them; that police business is openly gossiped about and discussed with other people who are not police officers in a way that it shouldn’t be; and that often the wives of police officers know almost as much about police business as their husbands do. Bentley also discovered that Pam was very friendly with a police officer based at Lampeter Police Station whom Bentley felt could not be trusted and thus the Operation Julie team had no dealings with the police at Lampeter.

The biggest acid lab in the world in mid-Wales was alleged to be connected to another acid lab in Hampton Wick, Greater London, which was placed under surveillance by a police team from RAF Hendon in Oct 1976. The police maintained that these ‘two drug rings’ had begun as one organisation. They maintained that a Henry Todd – remember ‘a man called Henry’ whom Gerry Thomas had mentioned to the authorities in Canada? – had been the person handling the sales of the LSD produced in mid-Wales because the mid-Wales cohort were producing so much LSD that they couldn’t handle the sales by themselves. The police alleged that Todd and the ‘organisation’ had been based in Cambridge but had then set up one ‘ring’ in mid-Wales and had recruited an Andy Munro to work as a chemist in a house at Hampton Wick. Henry Todd was imprisoned for eight years.

David Solomon received a ten year prison sentence, despite there being very little evidence to link him with the LSD factory at all – he had actually been in New York throughout most of Operation Julie. It was Solomon’s conviction that enabled the police to tell the world that Kemp and Chrstine had connections with Timothy Leary – Dick Lee had actually spent a great deal of time trying to find evidence of this but couldn’t.

Stephen Bentley’s book mentions that Operation Julie also utilised the services of Detective Superintendent Gerry Squires from the City of London Police Fraud Squad in tracing the assets of those running the biggest acid factory in the history of the world. Assets did play a role in the trial at Bristol, but Bentley mentions links to profits in Vancouver from a heroin business and a group of doctors and lawyers who were providing the money to buy $3 million worth of heroin. I can’t find any mention of them being put on trial.

 

All branches of Operation Julie was either working directly in the locations where the paedophile gang based in north Wales and their friends were running their enormous well-oiled machine or very close by. Not only was Operation Julie involved in a surveillance operation in Wales, the heart of the paedophiles’ friends territory, but they were holding briefing meetings in Lambeth whilst Lambeth Borough Council’s social services dept had been infiltrated with paedophiles and whilst Lambeth were also sending children in their care into the clutches of John Allen ‘on placement’. Rob Evans, who was one of the managers of Gwynedd Social Services children’s homes under the regime of Ioan Bowen Rees in the 80s, had been recruited from the West Country where he had been a ‘team leader’.  Talgarth Magistrates Court, where a man had been found guilty of indecently assaulting boys from John Allen’s empire, was a short drive down the road from Brecon , the meeting point of the ‘supercops’ where they agreed to establish Operation Julie – the case at Talgarth happened in the same year as the discussions in Brecon.

I cannot understand how Operation Julie did not stumble across the paedophile gang that was operating in Wales – which dealt in drugs as well as in child sex – which only continued business unhindered throughout Operation Julie, but expanded their business. Perhaps Stephen Bentley and his colleagues did know about John Allen, Dafydd et al but Bentley just didn’t mention them in his book.

So who was Home Secretary whilst the police and the criminal justice system concerned themselves with wild animals who had taken LSD, whilst an absolute fortune was squandered on an investigation that imprisoned eccentric young people who at most were users of drugs themselves and small time dealers, whilst highly implausible evidence was found at convenient times and whilst clairvoyant police officers also seemed to know that there would soon be an incident involving Richard Kemp’s car in west or mid-Wales – an incident which when it happened involved the death of a young woman – yet ordered their officers on the ground not to go near a gang of very serious criminals who had colonised much of Wales?

The Home Secretary who agreed to set up Operation Julie on the basis of animals with a penchant for hallucinogens and Dick Lee’s psychic abilities was Roy Jenkins. Roy has starred on this blog recently and did a great many favours for the paedophiles’ friends (see post ‘The Most Dangerous Man In The World – Part I) – Jenkins had also been Home Secretary at an earlier time in the 60s under Harold Wilson when Bryn Estyn, one of the children’s homes in north Wales with some of the highest levels of child abuse, had been directly managed by the Home Office. The Home Secretary who was in office during most of the investigation whilst gangsters who killed some of their victims as well as some witnesses but were allowed to go about their business unhindered and while the flimsiest evidence – some of which was very obviously fabricated – was deemed sufficient to imprison people for years was Merlyn Rees. Merlyn was another man who was a loyal paedophiles’ friend (see post ‘The Most Dangerous Man In The World – Part III’). Roy Jenkins was appointed by Harold Wilson and Merlyn Rees was appointed by Jim Callaghan.

Who was the DPP who approved the prosecution of people on the basis of the fantasies of some bent coppers? The DPP who was in place during the earlier fit-ups of the suspects will have been Sir Norman Skelhorn. Skelhorn was DPP 1964-77 and before he retired there was huge concern expressed in many quarters regarding the practices of the police and the sheer number of miscarriages of justice that seemed to be occurring. In 1972 Skelhorn had granted the bank robber Bertie Smalls, Britain’s first supergrass, immunity from prosecution in a deal described by the Law Lords as ‘unholy’. The criticism constantly levelled at supergrasses is that they may be tempted to tell a pack of lies and name innocent people in return for lenient treatment. Skelhorn has also found his place in history as a result of admitting that whilst he was DPP terrorist suspects in N Ireland had been tortured and told a meeting of Harvard Law School Forum – after it had been agreed by Heath that torture should not happen under any circumstances – that when dealing with ‘Irish terrorists’, any methods were justified. In April 1976 after Young Liberal Peter Hain was cleared of robbery at a branch of Barclays Bank, six Liberal MPs led by David Steel demanded Skelhorn’s resignation. I don’t suppose Steel et al could dish too much dirt on Skelhorn though – because there was the matter of the doings of Cyril Smith and Jeremy Thorpe to consider.

Sir Norman Skelhorn was an active Freemason.

Upon Skelhorn’s retirement, Merlyn Rees appointed Sir Thomas ‘Tony’ Hetherington as DPP and it will have been Hetherington who was in office when the later Operation Julie prosecutions were prepared. Hetherington remained as DPP until 1987 and became the first head of the CPS when it was formed in 1986. The CPS that subsequently refused to prosecute in so many cases connected to the North Wales Child Abuse Scandal or those child abuse cases involving Cyril Smith, Greville Janner and others. Hetherington did make the decision to prosecute Jeremy Thorpe however, although after that trial he might as well have not bothered (see post ‘My How Things Haven’t Changed’). Hetherington lied to two newspapers about never receiving police information concerning Cyril Smith. During his later years as DPP he oversaw a number of major changes introduced in the wake of concerns raised during Skelhorn’s incumbency eg. the introduction of PACE in 1984 and the creation of the CPS.

Hetherington was the son of a Top Doctor who was educated at Rugby and Christ Church, Oxford and was called to the Bar in 1952. He was the first DPP who was a career civil servant. He became part of the team supporting the Attorney-General and Solicitor General in 1962 and was head of the permanent legal staff supporting the Law Officers (A-G and SG), 1966-76. So Hetherington was the man behind Normal Skelhorn. He was appointed Deputy Treasury Solicitor in 1975. Which was when the Treasury Solicitor’s office was in the process of ruining Mary Wynch and illegally divesting her of her property (see post ‘The Mary Wynch Case – Details’). As part of his mission to shine a light on the organs of the DPP, Hetherington allowed BBC Panorama’s team to film the DPP’s office at work. It was considered a very daring move, but I suspect that the BBC were happy to do their Lord Haw-Haw bit.

Hetherington was knighted in 1979. Which was the year that Thorpe was acquitted of conspiracy and incitement to murder. It was Hetherington who failed to prosecute any SPG officers after the death of Blair Peach.

The Attorney General, 1974-79, was Samuel Silkin. Silkin was a barrister from a well-known Labour family (see post ‘The Most Dangerous Man In The World – Part I’). His father Lewis Silkin was the Labour MP for Peckham and a Minister in Attlee’s Cabinet, 1945-50 and his brother John Silkin was also a Labour MP and Cabinet Minister. John Silkin was very influential and at one point looked as though he would become leader of the Labour Party. Samuel Silkin retired in 1983 and was given a peerage in 1985. He Chaired the Society of Labour Lawyers.

The Solicitor General, 1974-79, was Peter Archer, a Labour MP for the West Midlands. Between 1967-70 Archer had been PPS to that good friend of the paedophiles Sir Elwyn-Jones whilst Elwyn-Jones was Attorney-General. In 1969 Archer was Britain’s representative on the UN’s ‘third committee’ on Human Rights. He was a founder member of the Amnesty International  Committee in 1961 and Chairman of Amnesty International’s UK section, 1971-74, as well as being a member in the Anti-Slavery Society. Archer was an extremely active member of the Fabian Society – he sat on the executive committee, 1974-86, was Chairman, 1980-81 and from 1993 until his death in 2012 he was President. He was also a leading figure in the Society of Labour Lawyers.

In his capacity as Solicitor General Archer authorised prosecutions in N Ireland.

Archer was close to Samuel Silkin when Labour were in opposition. When Silkin retired after Labour’s defeat in 1979, Archer was passed over for the role of Shadow A-G by one of the best friends that the paedophiles have ever had, former Secretary of State for Wales Lord John Morris. Peter Archer was Chief Legal Spokesman in Michael Foot’s Shadow Cabinet in 1981. In 1982 Archer became a Crown Court Recorder – he concentrated on his career at the criminal Bar after Labour’s defeat in 1970.

Archer was Shadow Secretary of State for N Ireland under Neil Kinnock, 1983-87. In 1986 he urged the reconsideration of the case of the Birmingham Six and in 1987 was not returned to the Shadow Cabinet.

Archer was a Christian Socialist and was always used as the living embodiment of ‘the Labour Party owes more to Methodism than to Marxism’ – Archer was very active in the Methodist Church in the Black Country and worked as a lay preacher.

In 1992, that excellent year for the paedophiles’ friends when so many good things happened for them including the murder of five witnesses by a petrol bomb just a few days after the General Election (see post ‘The Silence Of The Welsh Lambs’), Archer picked up a peerage.

In 1998 Blair appointed Archer to make recommendations concerning the claims from the families of Holocaust victims whose assets in Britain were seized – Archer Chaired the £25 million compensation fund. Archer also led the 2007 ‘Tainted Blood’ Inquiry.

 

There has been huge quantities written about Operation Julie, but because so much was written by journalists who had close connections with the police I haven’t spent time reading much of it. It is established that the police had a hotline to many media outlets and were able to ensure that the story that reached the general public was one of heroic cops sending down dangerous criminals who presented a threat to western civilisation. Stephen Bentley mentions going out boozing with Colin Willis, the showbiz editor no less of the Daily Mirror and the evening ending in a huge punch-up between Bentley and some other folk – imagine the headlines if the ‘hippies’ had done that and it had been witnessed by a journalist. The Earl of Derby who obviously had a very cosy relationship with the police in the north west of England was a Director of Granada TV. Lawrence Byford, the Chief Constable of Lincolnshire at the time of Operation Julie, had a son – Mark – who worked for the BBC and who eventually reached the very top of that organisation.

Most of the people who were convicted have since died without their stories being told, although Lief Fielding did write a book.

So I have no idea why the police and full forces of the Home Office descended upon Richard Kemp and Christine Bott in 1975. I remember that in the case of the Macguire Seven, the reason why someone named Annie Macguire as an IRA bomb-maker after being duffed up by the police was that it was such a ludicrous notion that they were sure that the police would never make anything stick and Annie would be safe. In the event the police convinced themselves and a Court that this respectable middle-aged woman who was a member of the Tory Party and had nothing to do with Republican activism or politics, was indeed running a bomb factory from her kitchen and employed members of her family, including a 15 year old boy, to assist her. Oh and Annie Macguire was sexually assaulted in custody as well. At the time the British press ran lurid headlines about Aunt Annie’s bomb kitchen. When Annie Macguire was released from prison – after years – the running theme of her story was that she had no idea that such things could actually happen in Britain. The Macguire Seven were convicted in 1976 – the Guildford Four and Birmingham Six were convicted in 1975. Perhaps Gerry Thomas named Richard and Christine in an attempt to give some information, any information, to the authorities in Canada, thinking that it was such a ludicrous notion that they were supplying the whole world with LSD that charges would never stick. Or perhaps Gerry Thomas was unscrupulous, knew how daft the authorities were, told them a load of poppycock in order to get himself a lighter sentence and didn’t care what the consequences were for anyone else.

At the trial in Bristol, Sir Henry Park lavished praise on the officers of Operation Julie and complimented them on their ‘intelligent handling’ of the material. Including presumably the evidence of the mole, the rat and the frog who had all been tripping. Between 1970-74 Henry Park was the Presiding Judge of the Western Circuit – he was very well known in the West Country and almost certainly knew the senior officers in the Avon and Somerset Constabulary.

My post ‘The Evolution Of A Drugs Baron’ describes how Dr Dafydd Alun Jones was actually given the remit to provide ‘substance abuse services’ in north Wales via his charity CAIS, upon whose Board sits some of the people named in the Waterhouse Report as failing to respond to the presence of a paedophile ring in north Wales, although they were senior managers in the social services.

Dafydd set up CAIS in 1977. In the 1972 the Chief Constable of North Wales Sir Philip Myers was the police’s representative on the Advisory Council for the Misuse of Drugs.

 

 

 

 

 

95 Glorious Years!

Baroness Jean Trumpington retired from the House of Lords at the end of last month at the age of 95 and what a fuss in the media there was. Trumpers – as she likes to be known – was interviewed and featured everywhere, in a consistently positive way. Much was made of the fact that Trumpers virtually single-handedly defended Hitler, that she gave Thatcher a few good bollockings and that she ‘dealt with’ Lloyd George as a young woman. Trumpers was even named in a ‘Guardian’ article as a feminist icon and the nation remembered her stellar performances on ‘Have I Got News For You’ and other light entertainment programmes.

A few weeks before she announced her retirement, this blog revealed that Trumpers had actually been the Minister in the DHSS responsible for appointing Jimmy Savile general manager of Broadmoor – where he sexually assaulted and raped a number of women patients, two of whom are thought to have killed themselves as a result. When I wrote that – it was just a bit of information that I supplied in a comment following my ‘Wheels Within Wheels Or Flies Drawn To The Same Incestuously Corrupt Shithouse?’ post – I’d barely heard of Trumpers, although I had seen her on ‘Have I got News For You’. I was fascinated to hear that it was she who appointed Savile whilst she was Parliamentary Under-Secretary of State – not just because it was a stupid monstrous thing to do, but because Edwina Currie took the flak for that. Indeed, this blog gave Edwina Currie flak for it – Currie was also a Minister in the DHSS, working under Ken Clarke as Secretary of State, who after Savile’s death held her hands up to appointing him. Currie admitted attending dinners in the Athenaeum with Savile, corrupt civil servants and Savile’s former NHS manager mate from Leeds, Alan Franey (see post ‘Socio-Political Context Of The North Wales Mental Health Services In The 1980s’). Yet it was Trumpers who did the dirty deed – I suspect that Trumpers attended a few knees ups in the Athenaeum along with the rest of them.

So why did Edwina – and to a lesser extent Ken Clarke – cover Trumpers’ arse? Edwina was having to defend herself repeatedly in public while furious people demanded to know how she could ever have been so foolish as to appoint a serial sex offender to such a position. A public inquiry into Savile was taking place, the BBC was under fire, monuments to Savile were being taken down and even the over-the-top headstone from his grave was removed – throughout it all, no-one mentioned Trumpers. Edwina is no shrinking violent – did she perhaps have such a good relationship with Trumpers that she was happy to protect a friend who had been guilty of a huge misjudgement but was basically a decent person? Unlikely, based on an interview that Trumpers herself gave to the ‘Guardian’ in 2004 – Trumpers stated that Edwina was a ‘bitch’, was ‘dreadful’, talked far too much and that Trumpers was always having to clean up after her. Trumpers mentioned the eggs business as an example. The eggs business was interesting – Edwina had to resign because she pissed off some very wealthy factory farmers who stood to go bankrupt. Edwina had made public comment stating that ‘most of our egg production’ was infected with salmonella – which at that time was true. Not every egg was infected with salmonella, but just about every intensive egg farm in the UK was infected with salmonella. Edwina had already been rude to the elderly who had suffered from hypothermia, she’d made misleading comments about the effectiveness of the UK’s cervical screening programme – but she was out on her ear when she told the truth about a highly profitable sector of the country’s intensive agriculture sector.

What Edwina didn’t do all by herself though was appoint a serial sex offender to a senior job in a secure hospital housing sex offenders as well as the victims of sex offenders. (Yes, the dear old NHS still does that. There have been cases where women who have been raped found themselves in the same hospital as the man who raped them. I shared a ward at the North Wales Hospital Denbigh with a rapist and a man who had killed his wife and at Springfield Hospital I shared a ward with yet another man who had murdered his wife. I do not believe that this should result in a policy of single sex wards as dear old MIND have been trying to implement, but I do think that sex offenders or men with a track record of violence towards women should not be placed in wards with women.)

Not only did Trumpers appoint Savile and then when it was revealed years later enjoy full protection from the scrutiny of the media, but presumably at the time no-one told Trumpers that it was a ridiculous and dangerous appointment. Some of the civil servants themselves were fully on board and were partners in crime with Savile and it is quite clear from his autobiography that in his capacity as Secretary of State for Health Ken Clarke didn’t really give a stuff about the chaos that presided in his dept. Ken was never in any danger of over-working and he delegated most things to other people and got on with getting pissed with his mates in the Commons dining clubs, eating curries and going to jazz clubs (see post ‘Running The Country – And All That Jazz’). Presumably Edwina felt unable to stop Savile’s appointment – although she did admit that she admired Savile’s threats to screw the POA using unlawful methods, so perhaps appointing Savile was one thing that she and Trumpers did not fall out over.

After finding out that it was Trumpers who had made the Savile appointment but no-one dared fess up to that in public, I thought that I’d better find out a few more things about Trumpers. I then discovered that Trumpers was given a peerage in 1980 by Thatcher BEFORE Trumpers had entered Gov’t – or in fact before Trumpers had achieved anything very much at all beyond being Mayor of Cambridge. Que?? So I began digging and from what I have read, the myths that surround Trumpers are myths as big as the myths that surrounded Savile. As with Savile, there is much evidence that many people knew about Trumpers’ feet of clay…

 

Trumpers published an autobiography in 2011, ‘Coming Up Trumps’. It is illuminating.

Trumpers was born into immense privilege. Her mother Doris was American, the daughter of an immensely wealthy business family. Her father Arthur Campbell-Harris had been the aide-de-camp to the Viceroy of India, Lord Reading aka Rufus Isaacs. Lord Reading was a Liberal and a barrister who had been Solicitor General and Attorney General in Asquith’s Gov’t. He was then Foreign Secretary under Ramsay MacDonald’s National Gov’t and then Lord Chief Justice. In 1913 Reading had been named in the Marconi financial corruption scandal, which also implicated other members of the Liberal Gov’t, including Lloyd George. Reading’s other claim to fame was that he imprisoned Mahatma Gandhi in 1922. Trumpers’ mother was a good friend of Lady Reading, Alice. Alice was what in those days was called an invalid and concerned herself with charitable causes, such as establishing hospitals in India. After Alice died, Reading married his secretary Stella Charnaud, who founded the Women’s Voluntary Service. After Reading’s death, Stella was given a peerage in 1958 and became Baroness Swanborough, the first woman to sit in the Lords in her own right.

Lord and Lady Reading weren’t the only grand friends that Trumpers and her family had. They mixed with the best. As a child, Trumpers shared a dance teacher with Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret. The family lived in Cumberland Place in Marylebone and even Trumpers herself realises that they were fabulously wealthy and led the life of Riley. Other friends of the family included John Thorpe, a Tory MP and his wife Ursula. The Thorpe’s had a son called Jeremy whom Trumpers used to play with, although in her book Trumpers maintained that she found Jeremy foul. I suspect that she may have decided that at a later stage in her life, perhaps after Thorpe’s career ended in scandal and he no longer had a chance of becoming PM – because as we shall see, if somebody was rich, titled and important, Trumpers could be most forgiving of unpleasant personality traits.

The family that Trumpers’ own family were bestest mates with however were the Lloyd Georges. Trumpers’ grandparents had been big buddies with Lloyd George and his wife Dame Margaret and Trumpers’ mother was close friends with Lady Olwen Carey Evans, Lloyd George’s daughter. Margie Carey Evans, one of Lloyd George’s granddaughters, had been a bridesmaid at Trumpers’ parents wedding and Robin Carey Evans was Trumpers’ first boyfriend. Robin Carey Evans is still alive and lives in Australia – he is the godfather of Richard Branson.

Lloyd George’s family are of course from Cricieth in Gwynedd. There are a lot of Lloyd George’s, or as one branch of the family is called, Carey Evans’s. It was the Carey Evans’s with whom Trumpers and her family was friendly.

There are still Carey Evans’s living near Cricieth – I mentioned two of them on this blog a few months ago, but when I came across their names I didn’t actually realise who they were. I found the names of D.B. Carey Evans and Annwen Carey Evans on a ‘memorandum’ of furious indignant protest that had been submitted to Parliament’s Welsh Affairs Committee in 2008. This ‘memorandum’ had been part of the co-ordinated attempt by the paedophiles’ friends to bring down Edwina Hart, the Welsh Health Minister who had dared confront the Top Doctors and the paedophiles’ friends. It was signed by many disgraced people and paedophiles’ friends, as well as the two Carey Evans’s. Full details can be read in my post ‘A Vampire At Glyndwr University!’. I do not know D.B. Carey Evans or Annwen Carey Evans – there is a David Carey Evans who runs businesses near Cricieth including a trout farm or something similar and on the memorandum Annwen Carey Evans noted that she was formerly the High Sheriff of Gwynedd – but they will undoubtedly be members of the Lloyd George clan. The Carey Evans’s will have known the backgrounds of some of those who signed the memorandum along with them, some of those signatories were infamous – one couldn’t live in north Wales and have not known about them. As for the relationship between the locals around Cricieth and the Llord Georges – whilst local people would speak admiringly of Lloyd George, what with him coming from Llanstumdwy and ending up as PM, there was a sense that the descendants of Lloyd George lorded it over everyone else. They were thought to be important and no doubt considered themselves important as well – which is why two of them ended up putting their names to a memorandum cooked up by a bunch of crooks designed to remove a Health Minister, despite them holding no positions in the NHS or related services at all.

Another name popped up in connection with the North Wales Child Abuse Scandal which was linked with the Lloyd Georges – that of Alistair McAlpine. McAlpine was named on Newsnight in 2012 as being one of the people who abused boys at Bryn Estyn and a huge row ensued after the man who named McAlpine subsequently said that he thought that he had been mistaken. Some people – including Sally Bercow – had been daft enough to repeat the allegation online and McAlpine successfully sued them. No-one mentioned at the time that although McAlpine may have been wrongly named, some of McAlpine’s colleagues in the Tory Party, such as Sir Peter Morrison, MP for Chester, had been abusing boys from children’s homes in north Wales. McAlpine was Tory Party Treasurer from the mid 1970s until 1990 and he was also an advisor to Thatcher. Morrison was Thatcher’s PPS and Deputy Chairman of the Conservative Party.

The mother of Owen Lloyd George, the 3rd Earl Lloyd-George of Dwyfor ie. Lloyd George’s grandson –  was Roberta McAlpine, Robert McAlpine’s daughter. (Alistair McAlpine was Robert McAlpine’s great-grandson.) Roberta married Lloyd George’s son Richard. Owen Lloyd George sat in the Lords as a cross bencher – he did not live in Wales until he was 63, when he purchased a house in Pembrokeshire. Owen married Ruth Coit, with whom he had two sons and a daughter. After that marriage was dissolved, he married Jo, daughter of Sir Alexander Gordon- Cumming and Elizabeth, Countess of Cawdor. Just to confuse things even further, Jo had been previously married to the Earl of Woolton and to Lord Ferres. For further details of these rather complex relationships and their connections to present day media barons, please see post ‘Did Glenda Occupy A Key Role In Keeping It All Out Of The Media?’

Owen’s eldest son succeeded him as the 4th Earl Lloyd-George of Dwyfor.

Other member of the Lloyd George family whom Trumpers’ and her parents knew included Gwilym Lloyd George aka Viscount Tenby, who was the brother of Olwen Carey Evans. Gwilym was an MP (for Pembrokeshire, 1922-24 and again between 1929-50; then for Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, 1951-57). He was Home Secretary 1954-57 – Gwilym was the Home Secretary who refused to commute Ruth Ellis’s death sentence. Gwilym became Viscount Tenby in 1957. Gwilym had two children – David, the 2nd Viscount Tenby who died unmarried and William, later Lord Tenby, who sat as a cross bench peer. William was one of the 90 hereditary peers who retained his seat in the Lords after Blair’s ‘reform’ of the Lords in 1999. Gwilym married Edna Gwenfron from Denbigh. Timothy, the son of William studied at Aberystwyth and later went to Australia. Gwilym’s sister Megan Lloyd George also had a long career in politics.

Olwen Carey Evans married Sir Thomas Carey Evans – a Top Doctor who was surgeon to one Lord Reading, the Viceroy of India… Thomas Carey Evans was the son of Dr Robert Davies Evans, a GP in Blaenau Ffestiniog, who was also High Sheriff of Merionethshire. Evans’s wife was the sister of Sir Robert Armstrong-Jones, a notable Welsh physician and psychiatrist, who studied at what is now Bangor University and then St Barts Hospital, London. Armstrong-Jones then lectured at Barts, was a consulting physician to the military at London and Aldershot before WWI and during that war, was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Royal Army Medical Corps. In 1929 he was High Sheriff of Caernarvonshire. Throughout much of this time Armstrong-Jones was also Superintendent of the London County Council’s Claybury Asylum – he remained associated with Claybury until his death at the age of 85. When he was younger, Armstrong-Jones worked at Colney Hatch Asylum. Armstrong-Jones’s son Ronald was a barrister – who’s own son was the drug imbibing bisexual notoriously promiscuous Anthony Armstrong-Jones aka Lord Snowdon, past star of this blog, as is his wife, Princess Margaret! The Snowdons were patients of Dr Peter and Ann Dally, drug dealers to high society (see post ‘Little Things Hitting Each Other)…

Sir Thomas Carey Evans was educated at University College Cardiff, then did his medical training at the University of Glasgow and at Barts. He served in the military in India and later settled in London, living at Wimpole Street. In 1936 Carey Evans was appointed the first medical superintendent of Hammersmith Hospital. Carey Evans was medical superintendent at Hammersmith when the Royal Postgraduate Medical School was established there and he remained there for approx ten years. For details of the long-standing research fraud, cronyism and misconduct that I witnessed and was told about whilst I was doing my MSc at Hammersmith Hospital/RPMS in 1986-87, please see post ‘A Cause Close To Our Hearts’. Thomas Carey Evans retired to north Wales in 1945 where, according to his obituary, he immersed himself in his love of the language and culture – whilst his extended family and then his descendants completely shafted the region. Thomas Carey Evans died in 1948, but Olwen lived until 1990.

Thomas and Olwen had four children – Margaret, Eluned, Robert and David. Eluned is the mother of Thomas MacMillan and Margaret MacMillan. Margaret is the historian and warden of St Antony’s College Oxford. Margaret’s sister Ann is manager of the London Bureau of CBC and is married to the journalist Peter Snow. Their son is BBC regular and star of ‘The One Show’, Dan Snow! That’s ‘The One Show’ which features the lame and hopeless Alex Jones, who went to Aberystwyth University and soon inexplicably became an over-paid star at the notoriously Oxbridge-dominated BBC – some of us are wondering how she managed to do that. Dan Snow therefore is the great-grandson of Olwen. In one interview Dan remembers visiting north Wales as a little boy and witnessing much cap-doffing towards Olwen…

Dan is a friend of Prince William!

But wait until you hear about Thomas MacMillan. He hasn’t wasted his time being a Top Doctor or even signing arsey memorandums in a desperate attempt to protect the jobs and pensions of people who should never have been appointed to their jobs in the first place. He’s not on ‘The One Show’ either. Thomas is Mr Big Bucks himself. He has been, variously, Chair of CIBC Mellon Canada; President and CEO of CIBC Mellon; Executive Vice-President of Corporate Services at the Montreal Trust; Vice-President, President and CEO of Chase Manhattan Bank of Canada. In 2012 Thomas MacMillan was appointed Chair of Blair Franklin Asset Management.

Howz about that then as Trumpers’ friend Jimmy would no doubt have observed.

 

New visitors to this blog unacquainted with the ways of the Top Doctors and paedophiles’ friends might well accuse me of being on the Grassy Knoll when I take the trouble to map out these connections and networks. I too used to believe that people who carry on in the way that I do were on the Grassy Knoll. We are not. People like Trumpers learnt at a very young age that having friends in Very High Places – preferably places like Buck House – can be very useful, especially if you or your friends and associates are doing things that they shouldn’t be. Trumpers’ book is quite explicit about this – not only does she actually admit that she ruthlessly used her rich and powerful friends to get what she wanted, but she is finely attuned as to who’s title is the most prestigious, which families have the highest number of members who are dukes and exactly who owns which stately home. Trumpers is rude about gongs like MBEs and states that she doesn’t care much for ‘baubles’ – that’s because the only thing that matters in her eyes is a peerage, particularly if it’s an hereditary one. She’s taken a leaf out of the book of Michael Winner and very obviously thinks that an OBE is just for those who have worked as a dinner lady for 40 years. A dinner lady for the working classes that is – serving at a banquet at Buck House is a different kettle of fish entirely, as Trumpers explains in her book when she tells us that she had always wanted to serve at a state banquet but that is usually a male preserve (a bit like inheriting the title and the family seat, or until very recently the Crown).

Trumpers’ family hit a major trauma in 1929 with the Wall Street crash – they ‘lost everything’. Well, by Trumpers’ standards it was ‘everything’. It was quite a lot – millions – but they had so much anyway that they did not have to claim benefits or go on the parish or whatever one did in 1929 when you were sharing a dance teacher with Lilibet and Margaret Rose. They moved out of their palatial residence at Cumberland Place into a ‘cottage’ in Kent called Rowlings. Trumpers’ has been good enough to supply a photo in her book of the ‘cottage’ to which they decamped when they were destitute, I can recommend looking at that photo – readers will gain some idea of the planet that Trumpers’ lives on. The cottage came with servants as well and land. I’m glad to say that Trumpers’ parents friends were also willing to slum it at the cottage, so Prime Ministers and their friends continued to visit.

According to Trumpers, Rowlings was managed by the Lunacy Commission because the man who owned it had ‘gone mad’ and couldn’t manage his own affairs. I know that this can happen to people if they become sufficiently distressed, but I also know that Dr Dafydd Alun Jones said this of Mary Wynch and relieved her of her property – she successfully sued him and demonstrated that he was a corrupt old bastard who had illegally had her arrested and banged her up in the North Wales Hospital Denbigh for a year. However when Michael Howard at the Home Office finally spat Mary out in 1995, her property was not returned to her. Unlike Trumpers, Mary really did lose everything – at the hands of some of those who signed that ‘memorandum’ along with the Carey Evans’s… Brown and me also got to hear about an aristocrat in north Wales who did not inherit because he was deemed to be mentally incompetent. ‘Now there’s a job for D.A. Jones’ observed Brown when we were told of this very worrying case. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if indeed Dafydd had been involved. Trumpers maintains that because Rowlings was managed by the Lunacy Commission they were not allowed to buy it, they could only rent. Yet further on in the book Trumpers mentions that her mother was given the option to buy – it was the Lunacy Commission who seemed to be making this offer, not the man who had ‘gone mad’. Er – what was going on Trumpers? Had the owner of Rowlings recovered – and if so why were you still dealing with the Lunacy Commission? If he hadn’t recovered, why were they trying to flog your mother his house? Rather than buy Rowlings, Trumpers’ mother opted for the purchase of another little bolt hole, this time one with ten bedrooms. At one point Trumpers mentions that the family had miraculously come into a great deal of money again, but she doesn’t explain quite how. Until they received that windfall, Trumpers et famille effectively lived off the generosity of their very rich friends – and I mean rich. Trumpers’ et al were the poor relations because they didn’t own half of Scotland.

Trumpers’ account of her young life names others whom she and her parents hung out with – including the Prince of Wales and Mrs Simpson in Biarritz. Trumpers’ dad was a womaniser which caused Trumpers a bit of embarrassment when she was a young woman – she’d turn up to swanky clubs with her own beau, only to find her dad in there with one of his mistresses. A scene occurred at the wedding of the Duke of Kent and Princess Marina in 1934 when one of Trumpers’ dad’s girlfriends arrived.

A major part of the Trumpers’ biography as sold to the nation by the media was Trumpers’ time as a landgirl, doing her bit for the war effort. Trumpers was famously a landgirl in Churt, on Lloyd George’s farm. Whilst at Churt, Trumpers shared the cottage in which Lloyd George’s mistress Frances Stevenson lived. Upon Trumpers’ retirement, the BBC and ‘Guardian’ made much of Trumpers’ success as a teenager in fighting off the lecherous old Lloyd George. A different story emerges from Trumpers’ books and earlier interviews. Lloyd George used to turn up to the house where Frances and Trumpers were living and measure Trumpers’ vital statistics. Trumpers’ did not fight him off, she thought it was a bit weird, but as she said in one interview ‘he was the grandfather of all my friends’. She’d known him since she was in the womb, he was almost as well-known to her as her own parents were and she’ll have known exactly what he was like – she was his mistress’s flat-mate. As for Trumpers’ contribution to the war effort – her book states quite clearly that she was the only landgirl at Churt and she was sent there because it would imply that Lloyd George was making a contribution to the war effort himself. Trumpers’ also admits that the famous photo of her, the farm manager and Lloyd George at work on the farm was posed especially for the newspapers. None of this is unusual – but it has all helped build up a public image of someone whom Trumpers was most definitely not. The produce from Lloyd George’s farm – honey and mead – was sold by Fortnum and Mason who made the identity of the farm’s owner a selling point.

This brings me to next part of the Trumpers’ myth – Hitler and Trumpers’ part in his downfall. When Trumpers stepped down from the Lords, everybody banged on about her having worked at Bletchley Park WITH ALAN TURING.

Trumpers’ received virtually no formal education. She did speak French well – because as a child she had a French governess. Trumpers had learnt French, she had learnt ballet and she had learnt the correct way to curtsy at Court, but she had not learnt much else. She was very weak at maths – even by her standards – and she expressed quite a contempt for education anyway. She didn’t need it and couldn’t see the point of it and what formal education she had ended when she was 15. She was then sent to a finishing school in Switzerland where two batty old ladies with Royal connections taught her things that probably even Trumpers didn’t need to know. Trumpers did however subsequently pursue a secretarial course, a very basic bog standard one.

When Trumpers hit 18 in 1940 she didn’t know what to do with herself and no-one else knew what to do with her either. Her father had a friend who was a Lieutenant Commander in the Navy who knew someone who was working at Bletchley. Trumpers was told to go along to Lyons Corner House where she was ‘interviewed’ by a Frank Birch. She was then given a ticket to enable her to go to Bletchley Park the very next day. So they obviously weren’t waiting to receive her references. Trumpers explains in her book that there was ‘no vetting’ because ‘they were snobs’ – she maintains that if you spoke the Queen’s English and had been to the right school you were alright. Or indeed if you had a dad who had a mate at Bletchley Park and you’d been groped by Lloyd George whilst dossing down with his mistress and had connections to Royalty.

By Trumpers’ own account, her work at Bletchley was very menial – it had to have been, Trumpers couldn’t have done anything else, she was eighteen and innumerate – and she was mind-numbingly bored as were all the other young women who worked with her. They had no idea at all – understandably – what the work taking place at Bletchley Park was. They were a group of young women all much like Trumpers ie. aristocratic but with no education other than language skills from European governess’s and they had bugger all interest in what was going on at Bletchley either. What did they do? They literally pissed about all day. They ski-ived off work, they hid each other in filing cabinets, they ran up and down corridors and they dressed up in ridiculous outfits to entertain each other. The media reports of Trumpers’ days off from Bletchley maintain that she and her friends would go to London ‘and dance all night’ a la Barbara Cartland. Trumpers’ own account suggests that they got absolutely rat-arsed with numerous young men, some of whom they didn’t actually know. I’m not suggesting that Trumpers and her friends shouldn’t have done this – it is what teenagers tend to do, Trumpers et al were just doing it in a rather more privileged way – but fighting Hitler they were not. However some of the young men in their circle did risk their necks because they were in the Forces. Trumpers did meet Alan Turning – once. Or she thinks that she did. She was ordered to take a message over to a man in a room in another part of Bletchley Park – she didn’t know her way around because she and her mates were all confined to one hut and had to stay in there virtually all the time – but she eventually arrived at the office and gave the message to the man inside, who did not say thank you. Who she thinks might have been Alan Turing. If he’d been the Duke of fucking Rutland she’d have known exactly who he was, how many thousands of acres he owned and how long the castle had been in the family, but Trumpers was not particularly interested in code-breaking or quiet gay mathematical geniuses.

Trumpers only had a rather woolly grasp of what was going on at Bletchley Park, but she was on the ball with regard to a few other things. Such as the nature of the people with whom she was ‘billeted’. Not that Trumpers stood on a train station with a label on her waiting to be taken to someone’s spare bedroom – no, Trumpers was billeted at Passenham Manor, ‘the house of a very rich banker’, George Ansley. Furthermore Trumpers made friends ‘with a girl who later married an ambassador’, ‘which came in handy later on’.

One of Trumpers’ closest friends at Bletchley was Sarah ‘Sally’ Norton, the daughter of the 6th Lord Grantley (Trumpers actually knows the numbers of the Lords, Earls and Viscounts that she hangs out with). Sally later married Bill Astor of Profumo fame – of which I will write more later on in this post. Trumpers was where the action was re Profumo, but as with Savile her name seems to have been kept out of it all.

Sally Norton introduced Trumpers to Max Aitken aka Lord Beaverbrook, the Fleet Street baron – Sally’s mother was Beaverbrook’s mistress and kept a cottage at his country house near Leatherhead. Jean Norton and Beaverbrook later married. Trumpers became well acquainted with Beaverbrook, visited him regularly and spent weekends at his place where she met ‘absolutely everybody’. Beaverbrook’s friends included Asquith, Lloyd George, Churchill, Duff and Diana Cooper and H.G. Wells. Trumpers herself believes that Beaverbrook cultivated her friendship because of her family connections to the Lloyd Georges – Beaverbrook was given his peerage by the Coalition Gov’t when Lloyd George was PM. Trumpers’ book relates anecdotes in which she toadies to Beaverbrook and writes and sings songs to him concerning his greatness. Years later Beaverbrook asked Trumpers to spend Christmas with him – she said that she couldn’t because she was spending it with her family. So Beaverbrook told her to bring them. She responded by saying that she didn’t think that they’d be very happy about that. Beaverbrook never spoke to her again.

What Trumpers’ relationship with Beaverbrook actually was I can’t quite work out – he was known to be a womaniser who treated women very badly when he’d finished using them and the impression one gains from Trumpers’ book is that she was either sexually involved with him or gave him the message that she was available for such activities. But Trumpers seems to have given that message out to an awful lot of men around her. She stresses repeatedly that she was ‘pure’, but I think that it would be quite difficult to stay as the driven snow if you carried on like Trumpers. She spent her whole time ingratiating herself to people who seemed to shag anything that moved, she was often well-bladdered and participated in games of strip poker with groups of soldiers. Part of Trumpers’ media appeal was her constant little jokes about being ‘rather naughty’, doing things that she shouldn’t and ‘not being caught’. It was all wrapped up in terms of an elderly lady smoking in places where smoking was banned or swearing in the Lords, but I suspect that old Trumpers did a few things that would have got other people arrested and up in Court…

One of the soldiers with whom Trumpers got pissed and played strip poker was Patrick Telfour Smollett – he was good friends with David Niven. Smollett married Georgina Fox, the daughter of Sir Gifford Fox, MP for Henley. Patrick Smollett stood as a Conservative candidate for Parliament twice but was not elected. He later became Deputy Lieutenant of Dunbartonshire.

Trumpers’ other very good friend at Bletchley was Osla Benning, who was Prince Philip’s first girlfriend. Osla was the goddaughter of Lord Louis Mountbatten. Osla married John Henniker-Major, who later became Lord Henniker.

Readers who follow the comments section of this blog might remember that one of my correspondents has mentioned Lord Henniker a lot. Henniker owned a country estate in Suffolk where in the 1980s children in the care of Islington County Council – which had a paedophile gang operating within it’s children’s homes – were taken on holidays. Peter Righton, a convicted paedophile who was a founding member of PIE and Director of Education at the National Institute for Social Work, lived in a cottage on Henniker’s estate and there were complaints that Righton had abused children there.

For two years Henniker was Assistant Private Secretary to Foreign Secretary Ernest Bevin in Clement Atlee’s post-WWII Labour Gov’t and Henniker then worked in the Personnel Dept of the Foreign Office. The Foreign Office was still reeling from the defections of Guy Burgess and Donald Maclean and was then clobbered by the Suez Crisis in 1956. Relationships between people in the Foreign Office were fraught and there were internal battles taking place. In the 60s Henniker was appointed Ambassador to Jordan and then to Denmark. After this it was suggested that he might become Private Secretary to HM the Queen, but instead in 1968 the Chair of the British Council Lord Bridges appointed Henniker Director of the British Council via ‘an informal mechanism’. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth because the staff at the British Council viewed Henniker as having been imposed upon them by the Foreign Office. Lord Fulton took over as Chair of the British Council and in 1972 forced Henniker to resign. Henniker ‘retired’. Osla was by now very ill and she died in 1974.

Henniker remarried Julia Poland in 1976; in 1980 his father died and Henniker inherited his title and the Suffolk estate. For a while in the late 1980s Henniker was the Lib Dem spokesperson in the Lords. Henniker and Julia revamped the estate in Suffolk, Thornham Magna, in the 80s, turning it into an ‘asset for the community’. In 1985 a field study centre was built there to enable children to study ecology… Henniker received funding for the improvements to the estate from Mid-Suffolk District Council and the Countryside Commission.

After his retirement Henniker was: Deputy Lieutenant of Suffolk; Chair of Suffolk Rural Housing Association; honorary lay Canon, Edmondsbury Cathedral; a member of the Mental Health Tribunal; a member of the Parole Board; a member of, and between 1982-86, Deputy Chair of Toynbee Hall. Lady Julia Henniker sits as a Magistrate in Ipswich and is a churchwarden in Thornham Magna.

Toynbee Hall is a building in Tower Hamlets which was established as a hub of radical social causes by an ancestor of the ‘Guardian’ columnist Polly Toynbee. The aim of the Toynbee Hall projects was to bridge the gap between people of ‘all social and financial backgrounds’. I am sure that Toynbee Hall was established with the best of intentions, but as with so many other things set up generations ago that revolve around influential well-off people working with powerless dispossessed ones, there is potential for exploitation. John Profumo dedicated much of his time to Toynbee Hall after he stepped down from political life. In 1965 the Child Poverty Action Group was founded at a meeting in Toynbee Hall. Sir Nicolas Bratza volunteered at Toynbee Hall’s Free Legal Advice Centre in the 1970s. This blog has already explained how the 1970s and 80s community legal advice centres didn’t touch cases involving organised child sexual abuse or the abuse of mental health patients. Bratzer was President of the European Court of Human Rights, 2011-12. Henniker was heavily involved with Toynbee Hall in the 1980s. Toynbee Hall was the scene of my unfortunate encounter with Lisa Nandy and the Compass Group (see post ‘He Knows Where The Bodies Are Buried’).

Lord Henniker’s son Mark is now Lord Henniker – he married Lesley Antoinette Foskett. In 2005 the Henniker’s 21 year old son Freddy was found dead in the woods of the estate. Newspaper reports at the time implied that Freddy had been in considerable distress for a while, but no-one suggested why. Freddy’s mother is a former Chair of Suffolk County Council and a former Lib Dem parliamentary candidate.

 

Some years ago, one boy in the care of Suffolk County Council claimed to have been taken to Wrexham and Islington by his carer where he was abused. Complaints were made to the Suffolk Police and Suffolk County Council but no action was taken.

In Oct 2009 Ofsted appointed John Goldup as their Social Care Director. In the 1980s and 90s, Goldup was a senior figure in the children’s dept of Islington Council. Derek Sawyer was the leader of Islington Council in 1992 and was later Chair of the London Regional Courts Board. Sawyer sat on many committees concerning the probation service and criminal justice system in London. Sawyer set up International British Educational Projects with Derek Slade. In 2010 Slade received a 21 year jail sentence for abusing boys between 1978-83 at St George’s School, Suffolk. With the help of Sawyer, Slade established a new ID via the use of a fake passport although Sawyer denied knowingly assisting Slade.

 

Another friend of Trumpers’ was Jean Graham – Trumpers doesn’t tell us anything about Jean Graham other than that ‘everybody in her family was a Duke’.

Although as a child Trumpers’ was led to expect that she would ‘come out’ – not as gay, but at Court and not the sort of Court that those of us who complained about the paedophiles’ friends found ourselves in so often either – Trumpers was just a tiny bit too young to have enjoyed this, although many of Trumpers’ mates came out. Trumpers did have her five minutes though – by the time that Trumpers hit whatever stage in the life-cycle it was when one came out, Trumpers participated in the ‘new style’ coming out, Queen Charlotte’s Ball, which when Trumpers attended in 1941 was held in Grosvenor House, Park Lane.

Trumpers was mates with Al Friendly who became the Editor of the ‘Washington Post’ but sadly shot himself dead many years later when he was in the final stages of cancer. Al Friendly  was the highest ranking American officer at Bletchley Park – so she palled up with him whilst she was stopping Hitler in his tracks.

During World War II Trumpers’ father was the commanding officer of the Marylebone Home Guard. It must have been the most elite Home Guard in Britain – it took in most of the BBC, as well as Harley Street. Trumpers’ dad had a lot of trouble with the Top Doctors when they joined up – in Trumpers’ words ‘any form of togetherness was anathema to them’, because they were ‘used to being the king of their own little world’. So some of us have noticed Trumpers – and if you accidentally discover that they are facilitating a paedophile gang which is supplying boys to Thatcher’s friends and colleagues, they’ll do all that they can to shaft you. Including using unscrupulous people in the Lords…

Trumpers had connections in the world of entertainment. Bud Flanagan and Chesney Allen were also members of the Marylebone Home Guard, as was Vivian Van Damm, the manager of the Windmill Theatre. The Windmill was notorious because it was the only place in town to put on shows involving stark naked young women. Of course Trumpers bends over backwards to emphasise that they may have all been starkers, but absolutely nothing beyond an innocent British saucy giggle went on. However Trumpers admits that the Windmill put on a ‘private show’ for the members of Trumpers’ dad’s Home Guard during which things got a little out of hand and ended with rampant males fighting each other as they scrambled over the seats to gain access to the naked women on stage. Trumpers assures us that she herself did not witness anything untoward.

Some years ago Brown and I along with a senior colleague wrote a paper about the construction of respectability in rural Wales in the mid-twentieth century. Something very noticeable was that when we interviewed older people about their memories of life when they were young, they all knew that some appalling things had happened, but they all claimed that it didn’t happen in their time or on their patch. It was always in another chapel, or in a previous generation, or in another school, or another town. This is almost a necessary strategy if one is living in a small rural community and one will spend one’s whole life there. There has to be ways of negotiating with one’s neighbours and extended family to live with regrettable incidents in ways that enable the community to continue to function.

Likewise Trumpers spent most of her life in situations in which people close to her and indeed all around her were doing things that certainly in that era were considered completely unacceptable. She knew this, she couldn’t have missed it. There was groping and shagging, heavy drinking rendering people vulnerable and incapable, a very high number of her friends were divorced at a time when indeed only the aristocracy were able to get divorced – and everybody had a mistress. Sometimes quite a few at the same time. Amidst all this Trumpers maintains that her undies remained very firmly in place. Trumpers – I don’t believe you and I challenge anyone to read your book and not draw the same conclusion as me. Trumpers’ set weren’t merely progressive, it was one enormous Ugandan discussion.

However I don’t think that Trumpers’ protestations regarding respectability were done for the same reasons that people in a disadvantaged rural Welsh community made the same type of protestations two generations ago.  Trumpers’ lot were telling everyone else what to do and were making and implementing legislation that they certainly didn’t abide by themselves. They did exactly what they wanted – and if the plebs had found out there would have been outrage. In the same way that there would have been if it had become public knowledge that some of Thatcher’s aides were molesting kids who had been trafficked from children’s homes. Or indeed if it became public knowledge that the decision to appoint one of the country’s most serious sex offenders as the manager of a secure hospital had been made by an unelected uneducated aristocrat who was never in danger of encountering a Top Doctor working for the NHS herself, but who nevertheless had been given a Ministerial position in the DHSS because she fancied going into politics. No wonder Edwina took the blame – Edwina had long since left politics and was occupying herself writing bonkbusters and appearing on TV. Trumpers was still sitting in the Lords, among a bunch of others who’d facilitated or concealed paedophilia and the abuse of vulnerable people.

I don’t mind one bit if Trumpers and her mates occupied themselves bedhopping and boozing – but as the Savile appointment and the presence of people like Sir Peter Morrison in Parliament demonstrated, Trumpers et al were making dreadful decisions. Their own circle didn’t escape unscathed. Trumpers mentions a number of suicides – one of which was of a young man who ‘was her dance partner one night’, then turned up to see her the next day and hours later shot himself dead in the Cavalry Club in Piccadilly, of which Trumper’s father was Chairman. WTF???

One of Trumpers’ dad’s friends and a member of his Home Guard was Rowland Baring, the 2nd Earl of Cromer. He was a member of the Baring banking family and was Lord Chamberlain to the Household, 1922-37. (Baring was portrayed in the 2013 ‘Downton Abbey’ Christmas Special.) Rowland Baring’s father, the 1st Earl of Cromer, Evelyn Baring, was quite something. He was the British Counsel General of Egypt during the late 19th century and his policies were representative of the ‘white man’s burden’ school of thought. He was a founding member and President of the League for Opposing Women’s Suffrage. English Heritage have put up a nice blue plaque in Wimpole Street to commemorate his presence on the earth.

The 1st Earl of Cromer’s other son – also called Evelyn – the 1st Baron Howick of Glendale, had a CV as good as his dad’s: he was the Governor of Southern Rhodesia, 1942-44; High Commissioner for Southern Africa, 1944-51; Governor of Kenya, 1952-59. Baring’s time as Governor of Kenya was marked by the Mau Mau uprising. Files only recently released show that in June 1959, Baring passed on a secret memo to Alan Lennox-Boyd, the Secretary of State for the Colonies, written by the Attorney General of Kenya, Eric Griffiths-Jones. The memo had been written for the sight of Baring and it described the abuse of Mau Mau detainees. It is alleged that Baring supplied a covering letter which asserted that inflicting ‘violent shock’ was the only way of dealing with the Mau Mau insurgents. What sort of ‘violent shock’ did Baring have in mind? Well the Imperial forces certainly pushed the boat out – the Mau Mau were castrated, had their nails yanked out, had pins shoved into them, had injuries inflicted upon their genitals, were raped and buggered and at least one of them was roasted alive.

Meanwhile Trumpers danced all night…

There is a nice photo on the web of the Baring whom Trumpers knew with A.L.Rowse and Roger Makins. The photo was taken by Lady Ottoline Morrell – who was alleged to have had a sado-masochistic relationship with Bertrand Russell. The Bertrand Russell who somehow found his way into the asylum in which T.S. Eliot had his wife incarcerated because she was seriously pissing him and his friends off (Virginia Woolf described her as the bag of ferrets around Eliot’s neck) in order to have sex with her. The only surprise is that this wasn’t all going on in the North Wales Hospital Denbigh.

Evelyn Baring was preceded as High Commissioner to South Africa by William Ormsby-Gore, the 4th Baron of Harlech. The Harlech’s owned vast tracts of land in Gwynedd as well as a grand house near Oswestry, which is where until relatively recently the family lived.

William Ormsby-Gore was a Conservative politician and a banker. He was MP for Denbigh Boroughs and later sat for the constituency of Stafford. Ormsby-Gore was Assistant Secretary in the War Cabinet led by PM Lloyd George and was Secretary of State for the Colonies, 1936-38, under Stanley Baldwin. William Ormsby-Gore was Lord Lieutenant of Merionethshire, 1938-57. He died in 1964 and was succeeded by his son David, the 5th Lord Harlech. This is the Lord Harlech that people tend to think of when one refers to Lord Harlech. This Lord Harlech was the Conservative MP for Oswestry, 1950-61. John Biffen succeeded that seat – who incredibly enough came from a farm just down the lane from where I lived as a teenager and who went to school with my father. Unfortunately John Biffen was part of Thatcher’s Cabinet – until he fell out with her – and at one point wrote an article for the Torygraph or something similar explaining how growing up in Somerset and studying history at school in Bridgwater made him a Tory. It certainly never had that effect on me, although I suspect that a lot of people did try very hard to try turn me into a Conservative voter.

Lord Harlech’s sister Katherine Ormsby-Gore married Maurice Macmillan, the son of Harold Macmillan. Lord Harlech was Deputy Lieutenant of Shopshire in 1961 and in the same year became the British Ambassador to the US. He was appointed after JFK was elected President. David Ormsby-Gore already knew JFK from the time that they’d known each other in London – Lord Harlech was distantly related to him anyway. Media reports refer to ‘rumours’ of Lord Harlech having an affair with Jackie Kennedy after JFK’s death – he asked her to marry him in 1968, so I presume that the ‘rumours’ were true. Jackie said no and subsequently married a much richer Greek gentleman. Lord Harlech remained in post under Lyndon B. Johnson and following the election of the Labour Gov’t in 1964. Harlech played a significant role in the Cuban Missile Crisis. After retiring as Ambassador in 1965, Harlech took his seat in the Lords and was briefly Deputy Chairman of the Conservative Party. He also founded HTV.

Trumpers’ brother knew Jackie Kennedy was she was young and even turned down the opportunity of a date with her…

Lord Harlech’s first wife Sylvia died in a car accident in 1967 and he  remarried Pamela Colin in 1969. The wedding was attended by Princess Margaret, the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire, J.J. Astor and Michael Astor. Then Lord Harlech himself was involved in a serious car accident in 1985 – he was taken to the Royal Shrewsbury Hospital where he died. His funeral was attended by Senator Edward Kennedy, Jackie Onassis and a number of other Kennedys.

The baronetcy was inherited by David Ormsby-Gore’s son Francis. David’s son Julian was the first in line but Julian had shot himself dead in 1974. Readers might have noticed that a lot of unfortunate things happened to the Harlechs. They continued to happen as well. Francis’s sister Alice died of a heroin overdose in 1995. When Alice was younger she had lived with Eric Clapton – it was Clapton who introduced her to the joys of heroin. Clapton later gave it up but Alice didn’t. Eric Clapton now admits that he treated Alice appallingly.

Francis Ormsby-Gore sat as a Tory in the Lords until hereditary peers were removed in 1999. He was a member of the Parliamentary group concerned with the former Yugoslavia. He and his fellow Lords were rash enough to meet with the Bosnian Serb leaders Radovan Karadzic and Ratko Mladic, who were later put on trial for war crimes.

Francis certainly had his own problems. He married Amanda, who is described as a fashion editor. She has worked as a senior stylist with Chanel, worked with John Galliano and Karl Lagerfeld. Francis and Amanda were divorced many years ago and she spent most of her time in Paris. In 2007 the Mail Online ran an article about her ‘being involved with’ Ralph Fiennes. In 1999 Francis ended up selling the ancestral seat at Oswestry because he was short of money – he moved to live on his estate in Gwynedd. He farmed and lived at Talsarnau, near Harlech. Francis and Amanda had two children, Jasset David Cody Ormsby-Gore and Tallulah Ormsby-Gore. Jasset trained at Central St Martins and is a video producer and Tallulah is a model and actress – the Torygraph really loves Tallulah, they’re always featuring her in their fashion articles. It is alleged that Tallulah’s Instagram borders on the pornographic.

Francis developed mental health problems and it is alleged that in 2011 he was sectioned under the Mental Health Act. He also had drink and drugs problems. In 1994 Francis was involved in an incident in which the police found loaded firearms in his car and him drunk at the wheel. He was banned for driving for 22 months and fined £1,400. In 1999 he was fined £1000 for careless driving and failing to stop after an accident. Two months later Francis was fined £300 after being arrested at Crewe station in possession of a wrap of heroin. At one point he spent a year on probation after a drink driving charge. In 2011 Francis was in a car with Tallulah driving in Gwynedd, when he had some sort of panic attack, which caused Tallulah to lose control of the car. She bashed into a car which hit a lamp post. Francis convinced Tallulah to drive off and she was subsequently fined £325.

In 2014 Francis tried to get back into the Lords. He wrote quite a plaintive letter explaining why he thought that he should have a seat. It is alleged that he was very distressed when he was turned down. That’s the Lords which is full to the rafters with the paedophiles’ friends, Trumpers and her mates.

Last year Francis was found dead at his property in Talsarnau. He was only in his early 60s, yet I never heard anything about an investigation into his death.

After Francis died, the media really went to town on the Harlechs. Mail online ran a piece about the ‘curse of the Harlechs’ and marvelled at how many members of this family had met untimely deaths in unpleasant ways. Another piece stated that the Harlech’s were a bunch of self-indulgent hedonists and to demonstrate this reminded everyone that in the 70s the Ormsby-Gores founded a ‘commune’ in Shropshire – this was blamed on their friendship with Sir Mark Palmer, a ‘hippy’ who was a one time Page for HM the Queen and who later founded the model agency ‘English Boy’.

Francis’s friends – the boozing, drug taking, sectionable hippy clearly had some – told a rather different story. They told of a nice man who had led an incredibly distressing life which involved identifying the bodies of three close relatives who had died in dreadful circumstances. Francis’s mates claimed that he had been particularly clobbered by the loss of his seat.

Read one way, the story of the Harlech’s could easily be interpreted as one involving people with a great deal of money who could afford to indulge themselves in ways which were self-destructive. There could well be a lot of truth in that. But the notion that the Harlech’s are so ‘unlucky’ that they must be cursed sets alarm bells going. When I was living in London and complaining about the paedophiles’ friends, all sorts of dreadful things happened to me which I knew were not related to any wrongdoing or cock-ups on my part. It was so obvious that one of my house-mates said at one point ‘God you have the worst luck of anyone I know’. I now have documentary evidence that nearly all those things were a result of the activities of the paedophiles’ friends – as were many of the things that happened to me in the following years and some of the things that happened to my friends who knew what had happened to me in north Wales. Since I’ve moved to a location where the paedophiles’ friends can’t find me, I live an incredibly peaceful hassle-free life. No cars have tried to run me over, no-one’s tried to set fire to my house and no-one’s tried to poison my dogs or get into my house late at night. No-one’s told my neighbours that I’m mad and a danger to their children, so I don’t have to deal with the fall-out from that either. I haven’t even had my computers stolen by relatives of John McTernan or legal documents stolen from my car. Because the paedophiles’ friends do not know where I am.

What if a member of the Harlech family knew something about a very powerful person or people that a lot of people didn’t want to become public? If someone is subjected to an all out vendetta and hate campaign, it’s not difficult to push them over the edge. Likewise if someone does have a drink or drugs problem, it’s not difficult to pressurise them or simply fail to help them with that problem and watch them end up in a mess. Furthermore if people have these these sorts of problems, it isn’t that difficult to explain even deaths as being a result of their own haplessness. The Harlech’s have the sort of premature mortality rate that the kids in care in north Wales or the psychiatric patients did – the Harlech’s died in the same way as well. They have been killed in car crashes, they have killed themselves, they have died of drug overdoses…Oh – wasn’t it alleged that Francis was sectioned under the Mental Health Act in 2011? Francis lived in north Wales – who was the Top Doctor who sectioned him? And why? We know that psychiatric patients drop like flies in north Wales – they are even found dead inside the mental health units and as long as a few Angels are wheeled out at the inquest to recite the manta of ‘they were a danger to themselves and others’, there’ll be no questions asked as to why another one has bitten the dust in exactly the same unit in exactly the same way as someone else did not so long before.

Francis Harlech sounds to me as though he was actually a very vulnerable man, even if he did have rather more money than his neighbours. Furthermore he was so distressed that he ended up in the hands of the mental health services – that tends not to have a happy ending.

Francis and his siblings when they were young people lived near Oswestry in Shropshire. At that time the North Wales Paedophile Ring – which had links with organised criminals involved with drugs, porn and under-aged prostitution – was going great guns. It spilled over into Cheshire and Shropshire – John Allen, a key figure in the North Wales Paedophile Ring who is at present in prison for serious offences against children, owned children’s homes in Cheshire and Shropshire as well as in north Wales.

Oh – and if Francis had been found with loaded firearms in his car, why wasn’t he prosecuted for that? There are a few things about the accounts of Francis and his alleged actions that don’t add up.

The last thing that I read about the Harlechs was that Jasset, now Lord Harlech, held a huge sale of goods at Bonhams from the estate…

 

There is no end to Trumpers’ connections. She knew Mary, Churchill’s daughter. Mary Churchill later became Lady Mary Soames and is the mother of Fatty Soames, the Tory MP who is a big mate of Prince Charles. Another one of Trumpers’ mother’s friends was Lady Winifred Renshaw, the widow of one of Lord Kitchener’s closest friends. Kitchener was a Freemason. Although that will undoubtedly pale into insignificance against the deaths that he was responsible for. Even the paedophiles’ friends haven’t managed to eliminate people on the scale that Kitchener did.

I mentioned earlier the part that Trumpers’ played in defeating Hitler at Bletchley Park. Not only did Trumpers hate working at Bletchley, but she loathed it so much that she hatched an escape plan. She told Bletchley that her mother had been injured and needed Trumpers to look after her and then Trumpers used her ‘good connections’ to get herself another job -in Paris. Trumpers hit a snag though. At Bletchley her role was that of a ‘registrar’. So she was offered a job in Paris as a registrar – but when she arrived in Paris, Trumpers had to explain to her new employers that she didn’t know what a registrar actually did, because although that had been her job title at Bletchley, everyone knew that she hadn’t actually been a registrar there. So Bletchley was knowingly employing a load of upper class teenagers who didn’t know what they were doing whilst giving them job titles to make them sound rather grander and capable than they were. A bit like the University of Warwick, where research assistants on three months rolling contracts are called research fellows and all the lecturers are called assistant professors. Or they were a few years ago. I was told the other day that things are even worse there now and they’ve introduced zero hours contracts. Not for the Professors in Warwick Business School obviously, but for other people.

Despite not being a registrar, Trumpers had a great time in Paris, having been ‘taken in by an extremely rich friend of my father’. Trumpers found herself invited to parties at the British Embassy, where she bumped into folk like the former Tory MP Duff Cooper and his wife Lady Diana, who was the daughter of the Duke of Rutland. Duff Cooper aka Viscount Norwich was a  Minister in Churchill’s Gov’t in 1940 and Secretary of State for War under Stanley Baldwin. He was the son of Top Doctor Sir Alfred Cooper and Duff’s uncle was married to Louise, the sister of George V and daughter of Edward VII and Queen Alexandra. Duff was known for his boozing, gambling and shagging of people who were not married to him. Diana was quite laid back about this, she knew that he’d always come back so she was unconcerned. Diana was, before marrying Duff, Lady Diana Manners. Diana’s parents were rather put out when she married Duff – not because of the boozing, gambling and shagging, but because they were hoping that she’d marry the Prince of Wales. She didn’t do very well for herself in the end, she only bagged a Cabinet Minister and friend of Churchill. Duff, Diana and their mates such as Raymond Asquith, the son of Prime Minister H.H. Asquith, were part of the set known as The Coterie. They hard a rather rougher time than Trumpers and co – most of the male members of The Coterie were killed in WWI.

Duff’s niece Enid was David Cameron’s grandmother.

Duff had a number of children, but his only legitimate child was John Julius Norwich, who pops up on Radio 4 and was for many years a member of the Executive Committee of the National Trust. He is also Patron of the SHARE community, which provides vocational training for disabled people. John Julius is the father of Allegra Huston, who was the daughter of his affair with Enrica Soma, the wife of film director John Huston.

Diana Cooper might have married below her but she remained on good terms with the best – she was friends with the Duke and Duchess of Windsor as Edward and Mrs Simpson came to be known. It was the cousins of one of Trumpers’ male friends who put Mrs Simpson up in the south of France when she did a runner, so Trumpers got to meet them. On the occasion that Trumpers dropped in they had one of their friends there – a Nancy Mitford.

In 1945 Trumpers’ friend from Bletchley Park, Sally, married Bill Astor – on the grounds that he was a Parliamentary candidate in need of a wife. Sally rather let the side down by failing to produce an heir on demand – she had a series of miscarriages but finally gave birth to William in 1951 after staying in bed for seven months during the pregnancy. Bill divorced her two years later and Sally subsequently married Lieutenant Col Thomas Baring.

In 1946 Trumpers’ other close friend Osla married Henniker.

In 1948 Trumpers returned to London – that year her friend Sue married Charles Graham, ‘heir to a baronetcy in Cumberland’.

Although Trumpers’ family famously lost everything in the Wall Street crash, not only did Trumpers’ mum manage to buy herself a ten bedroomed house a few years later, but when Trumpers returned from Paris, her mum purchased her a flat on Grosvenor Crescent Mews in Knightsbridge – just behind St George’s Hospital! Trumpers’ flatmates were Pempe, the daughter of Anthony Crossley, a Conservative MP and Mary Cobb, who’s father was also an MP.

The Duke of Westminster owns most of the property in that part of London.

At this stage in her life Trumpers noted that all the friends that she’d known at Bletchley were ‘now married so I had to be rather careful’.

Trumpers had another go at her version of working for a living when she was back in London. She secured a job in Peter Jones, but was sacked for theft. Not that Trumpers did steal anything but somebody else came in daily whilst she was working there and they made off with the stolen goods. Trumpers was most cross about being wrongly accused – which I can understand, but Trumpers didn’t work out that although she wasn’t actually the thief, she was rather culpable. The thief, a young woman, had walked in every morning and Trumpers had handed over the goodies. Anyway, Trumpers’ parents had a word with Peter Jones so perhaps that’s why Trumpers didn’t end up in Court.

Trumpers observes that in later life when she was a Baroness, she invited the Dirctors of Peter Jones to tea at the Lords – it’s ‘a lovely weapon to have up your sleeve’. Yes it even gets you off the hook when you’ve given an unqualified serial sex offender and paedophile a job as the manager of a psychiatric hospital, given him the keys to every room in the place, let him park a caravan in the grounds in which he molested patients and visitors and let him wander around calling himself ‘Dr Savile’.

The circumstances of Trumpers’ inviting the directors of Peter Jones to tea at the Lords is worth relating. Trumpers had been shopping in Peter Jones and purchased some jewellery that she then decided that she didn’t want to pay that price for – after she’d got it home. So she took it back to Peter Jones and ordered them to drop the price – it wasn’t damaged or substandard in any way, Trumpers just decided that she wanted a price reduction. Peter Jones refused. Trumpers went ape. She kicked up the most enormous stink, let it be known that she had a seat in the Lords and demanded the presence of the directors at the Lords ‘for tea’. On the big day, Trumpers didn’t only organise the tea – and I bet she didn’t even fucking pay for that – but she commandeered an ‘interview room’ in the Lords and laid out all the pieces of jewellery that she’d ever purchased in the room and frog marched the directors of Peter Jones around the room before feeding them what I suspect was the tax-payer funded tea. Just to let them know how much dosh she had – despite having lost everything many years before – and presumably what a valuable Baroness of a customer they’d be losing if they didn’t refund her money on a perfectly good piece of jewellery that she had willingly purchased at the agreed price.

Trumpers then marvelled that the next time that she went shopping in Peter Jones, they grovelled with the best – they called her a taxi, they carried her bags out and stood in the right spot until the taxi arrived with an umbrella over Trumpers’ bags of goods so the goods didn’t get wet whilst Trumpers sheltered in the shop out of the rain. Trumpers pondered on the fact that Peter Jones had been so unpleasant over the theft business when she’d worked for them as a young woman but so helpful when she went shopping there after letting them all know that she was stinking rich and a member of the Lords.  Fancy the same company treating the same person in two such different ways – Trumpers was mystified.

Despite not being a registrar and leaving a menial job with Peter Jones under a substantial cloud, Trumpers then rocked up working for a Tory MP, Viscount Hinchingbroke. Trumpers notes that when she worked for him, he wasn’t a real lord – he was in those days merely the heir to the Earl of Sandwich. When he did inherit he was 62 and had to give up his seat in the Commons, so in 1964 he disclaimed his title. By the time that Trumpers was in the Lords herself, Hinch – as the world called him – was plain old Victor Montagu.

Hinch was the MP for south Dorset and Private Secretary to Stanley Baldwin, 1932-34. He joined the Monday Club in 1964. Hinch was gay but nonetheless married Rosemary Peto, the goddaughter of Queen Maud of Norway. Rosemary left Hinch for another woman and they were divorced in 1958. Hinch married again to Ann, daughter of the 9th Duke of Devonshire, although that marriage was annulled. In 2015 files on Montagu which had been kept closed for more than 40 years were released and it was revealed that although Hinch had admitted indecently assaulting a boy regularly between 1970-72, he had been let off with a caution, after both the police and the DPP refused to take any further action. The DPP making the decision was Sir Norman Skelhorn QC – who was also the DPP who ruled out any prosecution of Cyril Smith in 1970. The boy involved in the Hinch case told the police that Hinch had not only taken him to London but was planning to take him to Switzerland – Hinch confirmed this to the police. Despite his interest in male children, Hinch had children of his own. His younger son, Robert Montagu, has publicly claimed that Hinch sexually abused him on a near daily basis between the ages of seven and eleven. Robert says that he knows ten other people who were sexually abused by his father and he believes that there may be many more. There are clues that the local people living near Hinch knew that he didn’t always conduct himself as would be expected – interestingly enough, at the time that Hinch was merely cautioned for repeatedly indecently assaulting a boy over a period of years, a police officer working on the case observed that the village was totally dependent upon the Montagu estate for employment.

When Trumpers began working for the paedophile she was delighted to find herself among old friends – Lloyd George’s political staff, whom she had known when she pretended to be working as a landgirl in Churt, were back in the House working for Megan, Lloyd George’s daughter, who was now an MP.

Other friends of Trumpers’ were Hugh Rocksavage  aka the Earl of Rocksavage and his girlfriend Lavinia. They married at Cholmondeley – one of the families houses -near Nantwich in Cheshire. The family also owned a pile in Norfolk. Hugh’s father was the Marquess of Cholmondeley – his mother was a Sassoon and his maternal grandmother was a Rothschild (Trumpers is acutely aware of the family trees of her aristocrat pals). Hugh was also a descendent of Robert Walpole, Britain’s first PM.

In 1968 Hugh became the Marquess of Cholmondeley. The Cholmondeleys entertained Princess Margaret and others in Cheshire. In the mid-80s the family turned the estate’s chapel into a concert venue – it’s a magnet for opera buffs and ensembles from Glyndebourne made appearances there. Hugh was Lord Great Chamberlain, a role which his own son David – now the Marquess of Cholmondeley himself – inherited in 1990. Trumpers observed that Lavinia didn’t manage to hatch an heir until 1960 – she kept letting the side down by giving birth to girls. David cut his teeth with regard to ludicrous roles with the Royal household at a young age – in 1974 when he was 14 he became a Page of Honour to HM the Queen.

The Cholmondeley’s house in Cheshire is mentioned in Gyles Brandreth’s autobiography. Gyles mentions a do at Cholmondeley which he, Neil and Christine Hamilton and other members of the City of Chester Conservative Association attended. Gyles admits that all these people knew that Sir Peter Morrison, the then MP for Chester, was molesting under-aged boys and that they openly gossiped about it. This was during the years when the north Wales/Cheshire paedophile ring was causing havoc. Gerald Cavendish, the Duke of Westminster and Prince Charles’s friend, was President of the City of Chester Conservative Association at the time. For details of Tory life in Cheshire whilst Morrison molested kids in care in north Wales see post ‘I Want Serious Money Now Please’.  Trumpers doesn’t mention socialising with Cavendish in her book, but I’m pretty sure that she would have – she couldn’t have resisted a toadying opportunity like that; the Duke of Westminster owned most of Belgravia and it was he who had built the block of flats which Trumpers’ later lived in.

Lavinia, Hugh’s wife – then widow – became President of the North West Division of the NSPCC in 1960 and remained in that role until her death in 2015. Some of those involved with the North Wales Child Abuse Scandal were involved with the NSPCC. Savile supported the NSPCC. The ‘Helpline’ which was established to ‘support’ the victims of the paedophile gang in north Wales when they gave evidence at one of the police investigations into that gang was set up by the NSPCC. The manager of the Helpline was a social worker who was a colleague of the paedophiles and the supervisor of the Helpline was the former safeguarding officer of the children’s service in which the paedophiles had operated. At least one person ‘supported’ by the Helpline was found dead whilst they were being supported.

Lavinia was the Vice-President of the Cheshire Agricultural Society – Gyles mentions accompanying Sir Peter Morrison to one of their events.

Lavinia was a busy bee – she was also Patron of St Luke’s Hospice in Cheshire since it’s formation. St Luke’s was the result of the efforts of Harold Hassall the former footballer and Jim Littlemore. The hospice was opened in 1988 by Charles and Di. In the early 1990s it received financial support from the local Health Authority and between 2002-06 St Luke’s entered into a partnership with the local PCT and Macmillan Cancer Support. Cheshire Hospices Education – a training scheme – was set up and between 2007-09 a research programme with the Universities of Liverpool and Lancaster was established. Between 2010-13 the hospice was engaged with the PCT and Cheshire East. It also received funding from Dementia Care UK.

At present, one of the Vice-Presidents of St Luke’s is Fiona Bruce, the Conservative MP for Congleton. Fiona is a lawyer and studied at Chester College of Law in either the late 70s or early 80s. So she’ll have known about the corruption on the Chester and Wales Circuit and will have been at Chester College with many of the people who later worked on that Circuit. Fiona’s own practice, Fiona Bruce and Co, was set up in 1988 and is based in Warrington. Which is the location of Risley Remand Centre – so she’ll have known about the abuse of remand prisoners (many of which were former kids in care or psychiatric patients from north Wales) and the corruption within that institution then.

In April 2015, a new part of St Luke’s opened, a facility near Sandbach, Winterley Grange. Winterley Grange was opened by Phil Redmond, the Liverpudlian who made his name as the producer of the soap opera ‘Brookside’. A man with many links to the paedophiles’ friends, the former Greater Manchester police officer John Stalker, was for a while a scriptwriter for Brookside (see posts ‘ Top of the Cops’ and ‘A Stalker’s Network’ for more information on John Stalker and his mates). Stalker lived in Cheshire – as did George Carman, the corrupt barrister who had connections with the paedophiles’ friends (see post ‘No Ordinary Methods’ and ‘No Ordinary Methods – Supplementary Post’).

Bill and Julie Holroyd, ‘businesspeople, investors and philanthropists’, also attended the opening of Winterley Grange. Bill was appointed Deputy Lieutenant in 2008 and High Sheriff of Cheshire in 2015. Bill Holroyd and many of his associates are involved with Bolton Lads and Girls Club.

Lavinia was also involved with the North West Cancer Research Fund. The North West Cancer Fund has been discussed on the Welsh political blogosphere recently, after somebody pointed out that it has a very heavy presence in the far corners of north west Wales, despite the fund being entirely concerned with activities in the north west of England. Successful research is of course transnational, but it is certainly interesting that the North West Cancer Fund has indeed colonised Gwynedd. I’ll be investigating this further – the Third sector has been completely corrupted and the University of Liverpool’s Top Doctors have been responsible for much of the toxicity of the NHS in north Wales, so there may well have been some very dirty dealings to ensure that the North West Cancer Fund gained a foothold in Gwynedd.

Hugh and Lavinia’s son David married Rose Hanbury, a fashion model. Rose’s gran was a bridesmaid at the wedding of HM the Queen and Prince Philip. Rose’s twin babies were born in 2009 – they were very premature and Rose was taken to Queen Charlotte’s Hospital in London where she was monitored for two weeks before the twins’ birth. The Countess of Chester Hospital has recently been in the news after it was revealed that care was shite and that over the last few years a number of babies had died unnecessarily – a police investigation into the deaths was launched earlier this year. There have been problems with the care of mothers and babies at the Countess of Chester for many, many years and mothers in the know ensured that they did not give birth there. Of course none of this was publicised so mothers who weren’t in the know were reassured that ‘of course it’ll all be alright dear’ by the Top Doctors and risked the necks of themselves and their babies at the Countess of Chester, sometimes with catastrophic consequences. I presume that the Cholmondeleys knew that the Countess of Chester Hospital was dangerous which is why their own high risk pregnancy and delivery was managed by Queen Charlotte’s. I don’t blame them one bit – I wouldn’t book myself into the Countess of Chester if I were pregnant – but they didn’t warn anybody else, despite Lavinia’s connections to the world of healthcare and the Top Doctors.

David Cholmondeley is a film maker!

Another aristocratic family with whom Trumpers had links were located in north Wales. In 1948 Trumpers’ friend Shirley Morgan – the daughter of novelists Charles Morgan and Hilda Vaughan – married Henry Paget, the Marquess of Anglesey – so Trumpers’ mate became a Marchioness. Trumpers noted that Henry’s family owned most of Anglesey – the family seat is Plas Newydd. Henry Paget was the partner of Trumpers’ pal Sally Norton before Sally married Bill Astor.

The Henry who married Shirley was the 7th Marquess – his father, the 6th Marquess, was Lord Chamberlain to Queen Mary. Henry’s mother was Lady Victoria Manners, daughter of the Duke of Rutland. Who will have been something to do with Trumpers’ other pal, Duff Copper’s wife, Lady Diana Manners.

It is of course a standing joke that the Royal family and British aristocracy are all highly inbred, but I didn’t realise to what extent that allegation was true until I began researching Trumpers and her friends. It really is a very small gene pool. But which group of people in the UK get flak from the Top Doctors and the media for daring to marry their cousins? South Asians in Bradford of course. In popular culture rude comments with regard to inbreeding are made about people from Somerset and Norfolk. I heard middle class people in north Wales level the same allegations about people from Anglesey – but they weren’t talking about the Marquess and his family, they were of course talking about the council house people and their ilk. Talking of subsidised accommodation, Plas Newydd was given to the National Trust in 1976, although Henry Paget and the family continued to live there.

Henry was a Conservative peer, but he never actually spoke in the Lords and only voted once. Henry was President of the National Museum of Wales, 1962-67; Vice-Chair of the Welsh Committee of the National Trust – so Henry was his own landlord then – and Lord Lieutenant of Gwynedd, 1983-89.

Dame Shirley Paget was Press Secretary to Gladwyn Jebb in the Foreign Office pre-WWII; President of the Federation of Women’s Institutes, 1966-69; Board Member of the British Council, 1985-95; Chair of Broadcasting Complaints Commission, 1987-91.

Henry was a close friend of Kyffin Williams, the well-known artist who lived on Anglesey for many years. I note that Michael Mansfield’s memoir mentions that Mansfield was taught art at school by Kyffin – the radical Mansfield who ignored any cases related to the North Wales Child Abuse Scandal or Westminster Paedophile Ring (see post ‘Workers’ Play Time’).

When the newly wed Charles and Di visited Bangor I was told that they stayed the night at the Marquess of Anglesey’s place. There was a bit of trouble concerning that particular Royal Visit, with rude anti-Royal slogans being daubed on the council offices the night before, so someone had to paint over them – so there were the council offices partially repainted with a shade of paint that very obviously didn’t match the paintwork on the rest of the building as Charles and Di walked past. Then there was another diplomatic incident which involved a group of Welsh language students concealing themselves in some trees and dropping out of the trees as the Royal Couple approached, waving banners at them with slogans painted on them saying ‘Go Home English Prince’ and ‘Go Home Jug Ears’. Poor Di quailed and actually looked quite frightened, although to be fair to Charles he carried on mingling and actually chatted to the folk in the crowd and the students who weren’t yelling abuse at him, rather than spending his time hobnobbing with the bunch of grandiose idiots from the Council and the Mayor, who actually tried to steer him and Di away from the crowd that had turned out to see them. This was the only time that I ever saw Di and I noticed that she was very thin and was wearing a lot of make-up, particularly blusher. A press release later explained that Di was suffering from morning sickness – William was in the very early stages of gestation at the time. We now know that Di was suffering from an eating disorder, was incredibly unhappy and was chucking herself down the stairs at the Palace in distress.

Henry Paget held a number of roles with the Anglesey Conservative Association. So it will have been Henry who had something to do with their desire to snare Ann Widdecombe as the Parliamentary candidate for Anglesey, although Widdecombe had absolutely no knowledge of north Wales let alone Anglesey at all and very little interest (see post ‘Doris Karloff – Honest About Her Expenses But Not Much Else’). Henry will also have known something about the candidate whom they did select and who later became the Tory MP for Anglesey, Keith Best. Best was a barrister who failed to assist when I asked him for help when I first came under attack from the paedophiles’ friends and who unbeknown to me occupied a role in the Welsh Office with was orchestrating the cover-up of the paedophile ring and associated criminal activities anyway. Best was involved in a car crash in which his research assistant was killed whilst Best was driving but not much happened about that and was later jailed for fraud after working a fiddle involving multiple applications for shares. Best didn’t spend long in prison, somehow he managed to secure a very early release. Best was an MP who wanted to get tough on crime – in fact I think that he supported the return of capital punishment. Just like Ann Widdecombe did.

I used to know someone who did voluntary work at Plas Newydd. This person was a Hergest patient who, as with so many, just never recovered from a serious mental illness. They would begin to make a recovery – which was when they would be working at Plas Newydd – but within a few weeks they’d relapse and would be sectioned again. This was always blamed on a recurring mental illness. Which might have been present, but I was good friends with this person and I knew something that the other patients didn’t – that as soon as they began to recover and begin work, Dr Tony Francis (Dr X) would alter their medication and within weeks they’d be seriously ill again. This person grew up in north Wales and lived in London during their twenties, in the late 1980s. They used to tell me about a sexual relationship that they’d had with a well-known figure who over the last few years has been the subject of a number of allegations of rather unacceptable conduct. My friend from the Hergest Unit had a breakdown in London and was sent back to Ysbyty Gwynedd for ‘care’ by Top Doctors in London. My friend’s ambition was always to return to London to live and work once more, but the well-known person and his friends didn’t seem to want my friend back down there. Not that it happened anyway – because every time my friend recovered and took up their voluntary work at Plas Newydd as a route back into paid work in an effort to wave good-bye to service userdom, Tony Francis would start altering the medication…

Henry Paget died in 2013 and his son Lord Uxbridge succeeded him.

 

Trumpers’ family got a bit worried about her by the 1950s because she hadn’t yet bagged a posh rich man. Trumpers herself didn’t seem to be too bothered about this, she carried on boozing, clubbing, visiting rich friends in their stately homes at weekends and not being very successful at menial jobs which she secured through her connections.

In 1952 Trumpers set sail for America. One of the passengers on the boat with Trumpers was a Shirley Brittan Caitlin. Trumpers couldn’t stand her. Neither can I – not that I have ever met Shirley on a boat, I only know her as the dreadful Shirley Williams, friend of Dr Death and member of the Gang of Four. Trumpers didn’t like Shirley because she was too intellectual – rather than because she colluded with her mate Dr Death who trashed the Labour Party and undoubtedly knew about the paedophiles’ friends and the Top Doctors role in protecting them but used that knowledge to his own advantage (see post ‘Dr Death’).

When Trumpers arrived in America it was business as usual. Her brother – who had married the daughter of a well-known Connecticut lawyer and was living in America himself – got her a job in an advertising agency using his contacts. Trumpers set about making friends with ‘the poshest doctor in New York’, a Dr Neergaard. Trumpers had back problems and Dr Neergaard was so charmed by Trumpers that he treated her free of charge for an extended period of time.

On one occasion Trumpers was invited to a party where poofs were present, which she found so distressing that she left early instead of dancing all night.

Despite the upset with the poofs, Trumpers was not deterred from her networking social activities. She was introduced to Walter Annenberg, ‘a billionaire’, who was in the 1960s appointed as the US Ambassador to the Court of St James by Richard Nixon. Annenberg was the man who introduced Thatcher to Reagan. Trumpers made friends with the daughter of Kline, the Kline of Smith, Kline and French, the enormous and extremely ruthless drug company; she dined with Senator McCarthy and made friends with John Lindsay, who later became the Mayor of New York.

Then, incredibly, love came Trumpers way – or it might have been love, as opposed to the usual ruthless befriending of the rich and powerful. In 1952 Trumpers met Alan Barker, a master at Eton who was in America on a fellowship at Yale and Trumpers was smitten.

As I researched Trumpers, I kept wondering why she had bagged a teacher with academic interests as opposed to one of the stinking rich aristocrats whom she had knocked about with all of her life. My confusion regarding this just shows why Trumpers has the midas touch and I don’t. As I read more about Trumpers’ later life, it clicked – EVERYONE whom Trumpers thought it worth knowing had been to Eton. Including the Prime Ministers – except for Thatch of course – and the other towering political figures of 20th century Britain who were so helpful to Trumpers when she fancied a seat in the Lords and then a career in Gov’t. The alumni from public schools stick together – and Trumpers secured her position at the heart of the most prestigious powerful network of the lot. Trumpers hadn’t gone to Eton – she couldn’t, being female – so she married into it.

Trumpers’ engagement to Barker – as she always referred to him – was announced in the ‘New York Herald’ and ‘New York Times’. Trumpers’ mum felt let down by Trumpers’ engagement photographs though – Trumpers’ mum had wanted to put her in ‘Country Life’, but Trumpers’ choice of outfit for her engagement photos made that impossible (how I do not know, I doubt that Trumpers had purchased an Ann Summers French Maid outfit for the occasion). Trumpers borrowed a tiara from her mate Sally. The tiara in question is now in the possession of Samantha, David Cameron’s wife – Samantha Cameron is the step-daughter of Sally and Bill’s son William Astor.

Trumpers and Barker returned to London and were married in the Chapel of the Royal Hospital, Chelsea. Once more no-one knows HOW – Trumpers somehow obtained special permission, although there had only ever been one wedding allowed in there previously and that had been centuries before.

Thus Trumpers became the wife of master at Eton, although Barker also had a history fellowship at Queens College Cambridge. When Barker was teaching at Eton, not only were the boys there still flogged by masters – although Barker himself didn’t seem to do this – but pupils had ‘beating rights’ over other pupils. Trumpers observes in her book that ‘it doesn’t seem to have hurt anybody’.

The novelist Edward St Aubyn was famously raped by his father on a regular basis between the ages of three and eight years. His father was Roger St Aubyn, a Top Doctor (registered with the Royal College of Physicians and a member of the Royal College of Surgeons). Roger was an old Etonian. Roger St Aubyn was violently sexually abusive to his wife, Edward’s mother, and was also known to have sexually abused at least one girl. Roger St Aubyn was friendly with two psychoanalysts, the parents of the dreadfully bumptious TV psychologist Oliver James. The St Aubyn and James families were good mates for years. Both families knew Arthur Koestler, who raped Michael Foot’s wife as a young woman. Donald Astor, the owner of the ‘Observer’, was networked into the whole lot of them. As a young adult Edward St Aubyn was so traumatised that by the time he arrived at Oxford he was a heroin addict. At one point he overdosed and ended up in Charing Cross Hospital. At Oxford Edward was friends with Nigella Lawson – who’s dad at that time was a member of Thatcher’s Gov’t – and his childhood friend Oliver James. Edward’s friends knew about his heroin problem and his vile father. Oliver James’s parents – one of whom had been analysed themselves by Anna Freud – took on Edward as a client. Roger St Aubyn died in 1985 and it was after that that Edward St Aubyn wrote about what Roger had done to him when he was a child. No-one mentioned it until then – but the friends of the family all knew. Anyone still fancy listening to Oliver James bollocking on about ‘affluenza’ and the ‘Dark Triad’ on the BBC as he advises the nation on parenting?

The older son of Di’s brother Earl Spencer is Edward St Aubyn’s godson. That’s the Earl Spencer who spoke so movingly about his beloved sister at her funeral, who was just so livid at her mistreatment by Charles et al whilst she was in the grip of an eating disorder. Earl Spencer knows all about eating disorders. His first wife Victoria Lockwood was severely anorexic – Earl Spencer wasn’t very nice to Victoria and he used to make jokes about her being ‘thick but thin’. He eventually divorced her – after she’d done the obligatory breeding bit – which must have been quite a relief for Victoria.

Barker’s friend and fellow history master at Eton – who became head of history there – was Giles St Aubyn. Any relation Trumpers?

Barker’s most favourite bestest pupil throughout his years at Eton was a Douglas Hurd. Douglas maintained a friendship with his old history teacher – and Trumpers – until Barker died.

Barker aspired to become head of Eton and Trumpers was pretty desperate for this to happen as well. It was not to be. Trumpers doesn’t go into details, but there are references in Trumpers’ book to Barker having caused problems at Eton, to him having enemies there and having become involved in politicking and colluding which had made him even more unpopular.

In 1958 Barker was appointed head of The Leys School, Cambridge – he remained head until 1975. The Leys wasn’t Eton but it certainly wasn’t Grange Hill. It is favoured by academics at Cambridge – Stephen Hawking sent his son there – and former old pupils from Barker’s time as head include Amschel Rotchschild, both the former and present King of Tonga, Christopher and Peter Hitchens and the King of Bahrain. Trumpers mentions the Kings of Tonga and Bahrain in her book – obviously the Hitchens brothers weren’t worth remembering.

Trumpers had a high old time at The Leys, although the accommodation was a bit substandard (the accommodation at Eton was very substandard, Trumpers wasn’t at all impressed). When Barker took over at The Leys, he discovered that one of their most high profile old boys, J. Arthur Rank, had fallen out with the previous regime. So Barker and Trumpers got to work toadying to him, to tempt him – and his money – back. Trumpers persuaded a whole list of high profile people to visit The Leys – the Duchess of Kent, the Queen Mother (twice), the PM of Singapore and Ted Heath. In fact Ted Heath launched his 1970 General Election campaign from the playing fields of The Leys – as opposed to the playing fields of Eton. Trumpers won’t have worried about this blatant bit of propaganda, because she was by then Chair of the local Conservative Party. Ted subsequently invited Barker and Trumpers to No 10 for dinner.

Trumpers certainly knew how to pick her friends. In 1971 she offered the school’s hospitality to the Home Secretary Reginald Maudling when he was in town to address the Cambridge University Conservative Association. At the time Maudling was in the middle of the Rudi Dutschke scandal. Rudi Dutschke – who later helped found the German Green Party – was in the UK recovering after an assassination attempt and Maudling was deporting him. No-one else in Cambridge was prepared to touch Reggie Maudling with a barge pole, but Trumpers maintained that this was a ‘free speech’ issue so was happy to entertain Reggie. Whether she put him up again after he resigned in the wake of his business associate John Poulson being investigated by the Met Trumpers does not relate.

Reggie did definitely attend one of Trumpers’ exclusive dinner parties. Along with Peter Thorneycroft, Frank Lee ‘and all the wives’. Frank Lee was a former Permanent Secretary at the Treasury and Thorneycroft was  Tory barrister who was Chancellor of the Exchequer under Harold Macmillan, 1957-58. In 1964 Thorneycroft was appointed Secretary of State for Defence. He lost his seat in 1966 – not that it mattered, he was given a peerage in 1967. Thorneycroft was Chairman of the Tory Party, 1975-81. It was Thorneycroft who employed Saatchi and Saatchi to manage the Tories 1979 General Election campaign.

Trumpers remained friends with Michael Edwards whom she knew from her days in New York – Edwards was running US lines, a shipping company. Trumpers had also managed to make friends with the Belgian Ambassador. Another friend was David Montagu, later Lord Swaythling. Although Swaythling ended up in the Lords, he rarely spoke. Swaythling was: Chairman of Samuel Montagu and Co (the family banking business); Chair and CEO of Orion Bank; Director of  J. Rothschilds Holdings; Chairman of Rothschilds International plc; a member of the Board of Banking Supervision of the Bank of England; a founding Director of LWT; a Director of the Daily Telegraph. Montagu’s son Charles married Angela Rawlinson, daughter of Lord Peter Rawlinson. Rawlinson was Solicitor-General under Macmillan in 1962 and Attorney General under Heath, 1970-74. Rawlinson offered his resignation with regard to the Profumo scandal, but it was declined.

Trumpers was also friends with the Adeanes, ‘local landowners’. Lord Michael Adeane was the grandson of the Private Secretary to Queen Victoria and George V. Michael Adeane carried on the family tradition by acting as Assistant Private Secretary to George VI, 1945-52. Working as a Courtier is of course a hereditary trait, so naturally Adeane’s son Edward found himself as Private Secretary to Prince Charles 1979-85. He’d started toadying many years previously – he was Page of Honour to HM the Queen, 1954-56. Between 1960-61 Adeane had been a Plebiscite Supervisor in Southern Cameroon. He was by profession a barrister who specialised in libel and worked in this field between 1962-79. In 1975 he successfully defended Harold Wilson’s right hand woman Marcia Falkender when she was accused of forging Wilson’s signature. Adeane also acted for Marlene Dietrich. Edward Adeane was one of the courtiers whom the Princess of Wales didn’t like and didn’t trust. So that’s obviously why he was appointed as her Private Secretary in 1984. There was much trouble in the Royal household during the Di years and a lot of it swirled around Adeane. Adeane seemed to blame everyone else – Diana was mad, Charles wouldn’t listen to Adeane’s excellent advice and that’s why there was chaos. Adeane resigned in 1985 and returned to the Bar, after falling out with Charles. Nevertheless, Adeane continued to accompany the Queen mum on her grouse shoots.

Adeane was a Director of Hambros Bank, of Guardian Royal Exchange Assurance, of Hambros Channel Islands Trust Corps Ltd and Scottish Investors plc.

Adeane ‘never married’, but had a male ‘companion’, Brent Snape.

 

Throughout the fifties and sixties Trumpers enjoyed herself visiting her rich friends in their stately homes at the weekends. Her regular haunts were – Combermore Abbey in Shropshire (the home of the Crossleys), Cholmondeley in Cheshire (the home of the Cholmondeleys) and the various estates which belonged to the Astors – their estate on Jura, their place at Bletchingdon Park and Cliveden. Yes, Cliveden. Not only that, but Trumpers was where the action was at Cliveden.

I have mentioned that one of Trumpers’ closest friends Sally Norton married Bill Astor. Bill was the 3rd Viscount Astor, son of Nancy Astor, Tory MP for Fulham East, then Wycombe – after that he took his seat in the Lords. Tumpers canvassed for Bill Astor in the 1945 General Election. Although Bill and Sally divorced in 1953, Trumpers continued to visit Bill Astor. She knew his second wife Philippa whom he divorced in 1960 and Trumpers also knew Astor’s third wife Bronwen. Astor was married to Bronwen when the Profumo scandal erupted. Trumpers had been a weekender at Cliveden throughout the whole time that the scandal brewed and then became public. Trumpers’ book mentions that she met Stanley Spencer the artist at Cliveden and that she also met Stephen Ward. Trumpers saw in the New Year of 1962 at Cliveden. By this time, the shagging that led to the scandal had already taken place – Profumo and Christine Keeler met in 1961. Trumpers was there throughout. Of course Trumpers remembers to state in her book that she ‘didn’t know’ about Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies. Yet Trumpers remembers dining at Cleveden with a ‘girl’ who asked for some more of ‘those fucking potatoes’. Bill told Trumpers sometime after this incident with the potatoes that it had cost him a lot of money to ‘get rid of’ that girl. Did Trumpers imagine that swearing at the dining table enabled one to blackmail one’s host?

There was another visitor to Cliveden at this time – HM the Queen. Trumpers noted that when the Queen came to tea with them all at Cliveden ‘the less presentable young ladies’ were ‘kept out of the way’. Where were they – upstairs in bed with the Cabinet Ministers and the KGB officers?

Trumpers remembers that Bronwen was the daughter of a judge. Bronwen’s daughter married George Case in 1990. Who he? Bronwen left Cliveden and moved to Tuesley Manor, Godalming in Surrey, where she opened her house to the homeless. She also trained as a psychotherapist.

Trumpers’ take on the Profumo affair is that she felt very sorry for Bill. No problem there, I feel sorry for my friends when they land in a slurry pit. However Trumpers certainly had the blinkers on – she maintained that the press made Bill out to be ‘dirty’ which he wasn’t, he was ‘an innocent host’. He might have been your mate Trumpers, but you knew damn well that he was paying swearing girls to go away and hiding the Russians and the prostitutes from Lilibet when she dropped in for afternoon tea. Trumpers doesn’t tell us whether she felt sorry for Stephen Ward who was the scapegoat for the whole business and was later found dead. Trumpers tells us that she remained loyal to poor Bill. Well Bill was the one who had the peerage and the country estates. Staying loyal to poor Bill might well have included Trumpers remaining very firmly silent about a great many things that the press at the time would have paid her good money to talk about – there’ll have been a lot of people in a lot of high places who will have been indebted to Trumpers for her silence…

As with Jimmy Savile and Broadmoor, Trumpers’ name has been air-brushed out of the history of Cliveden. Other people who were having group sex with Ministers and Russian spies/afternoon tea/dinner at Cliveden at the time have had their names bandied around in public for deacdes, but not Trumpers. I only found out because she’s been daft enough to write this book. Neither was any of this mentioned in the retirement tributes to Trumpers – we were simply told that she’d danced all night and defeated Hitler.

Meanwhile, in Cambridge, Trumpers became more deeply involved in local Cambridge life and politics.

Trumpers tells us that she always received a first class service from the vet at Cambridge University – because she had persuaded a rich friend of hers to donate a great deal of money to fund a veterinary fellowship at Cambridge.

In 1995 Trumpers was made an honorary member of the British Veterinary Association.

Trumpers also became involved with Good Works. A lot of women of Trumpers’ class and generation did this and some of them were no doubt very genuine – but we’re talking Trumpers here.

In the late 50s Trumpers became the Governor of a mother and baby home. Trumpers maintained that the woman who ran the home was a ‘good woman but stern’. The girls ‘usually had no education and no background and couldn’t really stand up to someone like her’. The mothers gave birth in the home, whereupon their babies were immediately removed for adoption. Ah so that was what the poorly educated not at all affluent girls couldn’t stand up to – the removal of their babies, obviously against their wishes… Trumpers mentions that at the time East Anglia contained many Air Force and Army bases and she thinks that might be why there was such a high rate of illegitimacy in Cambridge. So the servicemen were knocking up the local girls – the vulnerable ones – and when they got pregnant, enter Trumpers and the mother and baby home to provide the solution. Whether the pregnant girls wanted it or not. Did Trumpers go along to the Forces bases with a supply of condoms? Or have a word with the commanding officers? Probably not…

Trumpers mentions that there were children in Cambridgeshire who knew that they had brothers and sisters who had been taken away. Which suggests that the women who had their babies kidnapped by Trumpers and co weren’t even keeping it a secret – could they perhaps have been very upset by what had happened? So upset that they told children who came along later? Upset enough to kick up a fuss and even try to trace the children whom Trumpers had nabbed?

When Trumpers retired from the Lords, the media tributes mentioned that Trumpers had an interest in women’s mental health. God knows how many breakdowns and even suicides that Trumpers precipitated. Trumpers, like Dr Dafydd Alun Jones, was just determined to help. She sat on the United Cambridge Hospitals Board and on the Social Services Committee – that’s the single mothers screwed then, Trumpers was On The Committees. Trumpers also sat on the Cambridge Folk Museum Committee, was involved with the Rheumatoid Arthritis Association and was Chair of the Cambridge Dogs for the Blind. In 1975 Trumpers was appointed – by a Labour Gov’t – to the Mental Health Tribunal. So if any of the single mothers who’s babies had been abducted were still sitting in mental hospitals, it would be down to Trumpers to decide whether to let them out or not.

In the late 1950s Trumpers became involved with the Conservative Party in Cambridgshire. She and Barker canvassed for the local Tory MP Sir Hamilton Kerr and Trumpers met, among others, Selwyn Lloyd, Francis Pym, Irene Ward and Enoch Powell. Trumpers subsequently became a Conservative Councillor and remained one for ten years.

In the early 70s Trumpers became a Magistrate. Trumpers’ career on the bench ended somewhat unusually, but as with many matters Trumpers there is a degree of confusion surrounding the circumstances of her resignation from the bench. The retirement tributes maintained that Trumpers was responsible for catching the Cambridge rapist whilst she was working as a magistrate. Trumpers’ book tells another story: that for a long while a man from MacFisheries used to deliver to Trumpers’ house and she got on very well with him, so well that he’d stop for a chat. Trumpers maintains that one day she was on the bench when she was told that the Cambridge rapist had been caught and was about to be brought before the bench. The prisoner appeared and it was her delivery man – so of course Trumpers had to resign there and then.

None of this makes sense. Trumpers obviously did not ‘catch’ the rapist – Trumpers was on good terms with the rapist. Furthermore, even if Trumpers had been duped by a rapist into letting him deliver wet fish to her house, that would not be a reason for her to resign from the bench – it would be a reason for Trumpers to step aside from that hearing, any subsequent hearings and his trial, but not to resign. Trumpers did something that she shouldn’t have – I don’t know what, but she did something in relation to that rapist and as ever she was not held accountable.

Trumpers has a very elastic interpretation of the law at the best of times. She mentions that she used to have to park her car in a car park which she found highly unsavoury – they all carry Stanley knives in Cambridge don’t they – so a policeman friend of Trumpers’ gave her a truncheon. Trumpers knows that she shouldn’t have been given it and shouldn’t have kept it because it was possessing an offensive weapon. But she kept it anyway.

Another triumph of Trumpers was the occasion on which she ‘persuaded’ Cambridge Arts Theatre to hand over their takings for one night to her ‘for charity’ – I think to be passed on to the Tory Party. Trumpers then ‘persuaded’ Footlights to perform on this ‘charity’ night – the night that Trumpers picked for her charity night was the night of the General Election. Furthermore, two local Tory MPs turned up and such was the warm feeling towards them that they received a standing ovation.

Trumpers by now wanted a seat in the Commons and started seriously angling for one. Barker would have liked a political career but he couldn’t afford it and anyway he didn’t like campaigning and canvassing. Barker told Trumpers that he wished that he could find a rotten borough and stand there. I’m surprised that Trumpers didn’t create one for him on their doorstep.

Barker was offered the post of head at Westminster School – Trumpers’ friend Rab Butler was Chair of the Governors there – although Barker turned this offer down. What Barker really wanted was to be head of Eton, but that wasn’t going to happen due to him pissing everybody off there.

Rab Butler had become Master of Trinity College Cambridge in 1965 when he retired from politics. He was High Steward of Cambridge University (1958-66) and High Steward of the City of Cambridge (1963 until his death).

Rab Butler was a Tory MP for Saffron Walden who never became PM but he was: Education Minster (1941-45); Chancellor of the Exchequer (1951-55); Home Secretary (1957-62); Deputy Prime Minster (1962-63); Foreign Secretary (1963-64). Butler served under Churchill, Eden, Macmillan and Douglas-Home. In 1959 he was the Conservative Party Chairman.

Whilst Home Secretary, Butler signed off the execution of James Hanratty, although numerous people at the time were raising concerns that Hanratty was a victim of a miscarriage of justice.

Butler was Master of Trinity while Prince Charles was a student there (1967-70) and Butler was special mentor to Charles. Butler’s family owned Gatcombe Park and in 1976 flogged it to the Queen who purchased it for Princess Ann.

Butler was also the Chancellor of the University of Essex and Chancellor of the University of Sheffield.

Butler was the President of the National Association for Mental Health (MIND) and Chairman of the Trustees of the Mental Health Trust and Research Fund (Mental Health Foundation).

Between 1972-75 Butler Chaired the Committee for Mentally Abnormal Offenders (the Butler Committee), which was set up by the DHSS and the Home Office. The Butler Report was published in 1975 – most of its recommendations have still not yet been implemented. Which is not surprising when one considers what the DHSS and Home Office were actually doing between 1972-75. In north Wales they were running Bryn Estyn with paedophiles staffing it and down the road at the North Wales Hospital Denbigh Gwynne and Dafydd incarcerated, lobotomised, shocked, drugged and generally abused the victims of Bryn Estyn and other such establishments, as well as those of the Top Doctors and associated paedophiles.

Like Trumpers, Butler was a member of the Mental Health Tribunal.

Butler’s son Adam Butler was a junior Minister under Thatcher.

 

Trumpers became Mayor of Cambridge in May 1971. Trumpers’ explanation for this was that ‘when I was asked to do something I did it’. Trumpers mentions that one doesn’t always have to agree with what one is asked to do, one does it anyway.

Trumpers had a great time as Mayor, at some official functions she got so pissed that she ended up flat on the floor. Her need for alcohol was sufficiently well-known that she was supplied with gin during Council meetings on the pretence that it was water. They should have just set up an intravenous ethanol drip…

Trumpers was involved with Addenbrookes Hospital from the outset – she helped with raising £100k for a ‘recreation centre’ for the Top Doctors when the hospital was under construction and she then sat on the Board. So Trumpers will know the fragrant Lady Mary Archer then – and of course her delightful husband Jeffrey. Who ended up in prison for perjury after lying in Court about spending time with a prostitute – a prostitute who was killed in a car crash hours before Jeffrey’s trial on a matter related to him lying about her. There was public outrage when it was revealed that Archer was allowed out of prison regularly to host his Krug and Shepherds Pie parties back home with Mary. I’m sure that Trumpers would have received an invitation…

 

Trumpers continued searching for a Parliamentary seat, although her family were less than enthusiastic. Barker was resentful and bitter and refused to help her at all and her son Adam was, according to Trumpers, ‘ambivalent’. Adam himself recently stated in an interview that he never had a mother, he just had a Mayor. Barker was particularly irate to find that when he was travelling in the Mayor’s official car, if Trumpers wasn’t actually in the car with him, the flag had to be removed. Thus Barker sometimes had to endure the trauma of being chauffeured home in the Mayor’s car without a flag.

In 1974 Trumpers was interviewed as the potential Tory candidate for the Isle of Ely, but lost out to Top Doctor Thomas Stuttaford. Who was beaten at the polls by Clement Freud.

For a while Trumpers lived at Sandwich in Kent. She noted that Sandwich was full of old ladies who had once been part of the Prince of Wales’s set. I don’t think that she was talking about the man who later married Diana.  However, Trumpers did find an agreeable lunch guest whilst the family lived at Sandwich – Harold Macmillan. His daughter lived nearby, so he used to drop in on Trumpers when he was in the area.

Ted Heath’s constituency was in Kent.

In 1975 Trumpers and Barker moved to Hampstead, when Barker became head of University College School. She met lots of fascinating new people, including Harold and Mary Wilson, who’s sons were pupils at the School. Trumpers invited Harold and Mary to lunch (twice) and invited ‘all the other VIPs’ that she could find.

Trumpers joined the Board of Visitors at Pentonville Prison in 1975 and became the Commissioner of Taxes in 1976. Trumpers’ observed that most of the prisoners ‘weren’t criminals’, but had led difficult lives and the majority of them couldn’t read and write. Trumpers also noticed that when she did her prison visiting bit, she’d enter the room with the gathered prisoners and the accompanying prison officer would shout out ‘who wants to see the Visitor?’, but the prisoners would sit there silently. Trumpers worked out that the prisoners were too frightened to speak to her in front of the officer, so she would then walk up and down until the officer had allegedly lost interest in the prisoners’ conversations and then the prisoners would start raising their concerns with her. Trumpers simply states that most of the prisoners insisted on telling her ‘how absolutely awful’ the prison was. But as Trumpers discovered, there was no helping these prisoners – Trumpers would make appointments to see them after their realease but they never ever kept those appointments. NEVER. Probably Trumpers because the prison authorities didn’t tell the prisoners that you had made the appointment or they gave them the wrong date and time – because what will have been going on in that prison was so bloody grim that no-one would have wanted those prisoners meeting up with you on the outside…

Interestingly enough, records show that once Trumpers was in the Lords, she took a very hard line on law n order and opposed community sentences, even for minor offenders. Trumpers worked as a Prison Visitor for many years, even I think after she was in the Lords.

Trumpers also found herself a Governor of an approved school and two secondary schools. Jimmy Savile was known to visit approved schools such as Duncroft in Surrey. It is now admitted that Savile sexually abused girls at Duncroft – it was the former pupils from Duncroft that finally alerted the world to the sort of things that Savile regularly got up to. He’d arrive in his much boasted about pink Rolls Royce and the girls would be encouraged to go for a drive in that lovely expensive car. During these drives Savile would give the teenagers cigarettes and sweets in return for sexual favours. The headmistress of Duncroft – when the revelations became public after Savile’s death – maintained that the girls were ungrateful wretches, that Mr Savile was a bit odd but he was good to them. The girls were ‘not Angels’ – they were intelligent girls and some were even the daughters of Top Doctors – but they had become pregnant and one even had five babies. As one of the girls explained when she was a middle aged woman – ‘we had been sexually abused, which was why Savile was able to abuse us again’.

I am just a few years younger than those women and I remember the attitudes in the 1970s well. Boys ended up in ‘approved schools’ because of their involvement in crime but with girls it was nearly always because they had become pregnant after a long history of promiscuity. Such teenaged girls were seen as willing participants in their own downfall and there wasn’t much of an understanding that they had almost certainly been introduced to sex by being molested at a very young age. Once they had acquired a reputation as a bit of a slapper or become pregnant, they were undoubtedly targeted by every unscrupulous man in the area. There is play or novel or a biography of a teenager (unfortunately I can’t remember which work this is) who became pregnant to the horror of the surrounding world, which simply caused a young man to persuade her to have sex with him on the grounds that she couldn’t become more pregnant. Savile specialised in such teenagers.

However, the 70s were rather rewritten in the post-Savile furore and there were claims that ‘in the 1970s’ people ‘didn’t understand about child abuse’. They did. They didn’t see the sexual exploitation of ‘wild’ teenagers as child abuse, but the abuse of younger children – or indeed teenagers that had not gone off the rails – was seen as a very serious and a very nasty business. ‘Interfering with children’ was perceived to be about the worst thing that someone could do. Which is why the likes of Dafydd and the North Wales Paedophile Ring went to such lengths to conceal what they were up to. Even if that resulted in witnesses being illegally incarcerated in mental hospitals or found dead.

In 2004 Trumpers became a Trustee of Crimestoppers. Trumpers supported Crimestoppers because of its emphasis on children and youth offending. This was the Crimestoppers who in the mid-90s received two telephone calls from someone in north Wales informing them of the neglect and abuse that was occurring in nursing homes run by Dr Dafydd Alun Jones – including the suspicious death of a resident – as well as providing them with the name and details of a drug using patient of Dafydd’s who could be seen openly selling class A drugs to school children in Bangor. No action was taken. When the person who made the calls rang Crimestoppers a few weeks later to ask why no action had been taken they were told that the previous calls had been classed as hoax calls and that no investigations or action would be taking place. Crimestoppers was founded and funded by Tory peer Lord Ashcroft.

In 1979 Trumpers was appointed the UK delegate to the UN Commission on the Status of Women. Trumpers explains that this was ‘Barker’s old pupil Douglas Hurd’s doing’ – after all, Barker and Hurd ‘adored one another’. In her capacity as the UK delegate, Trumpers was sent by Thatcher to a conference in Copenhagen. She enjoyed herself boozing with other delegates and made friends with Sally Mugabe, who was married to someone called Robert. Despite the liberal supply of alcohol and the presence of despots’ wives to consume it with, Trumpers became bored at the conference and demanded that Ann Warburton – the UK’s first female ambassador – give her something to do. So Warburton gave Trumpers ‘something to say’ about people who were disappeared by Gov’ts and ‘what we were doing about it’. What were the UK doing about it? Well they were inviting the wives of the leaders of the Gov’ts involved to get pissed with Trumpers at conferences and they were making diplomatic links with those Gov’ts – Thatcher had been busy making friends with General Galtieri until he invaded the Falkland Islands and she really liked Pinochet. (One of Thatcher’s Ministers – I think that it might have been Geoffrey Howe – famously went to Argentina and told them that the UK had recently elected a Gov’t with similar views to the junta…Well Galtieri imprisoned and killed socialists and trade unionists – dunno whether he colluded with a paedophile ring though.)

At the Denmark conference Suzanne Mubarak – who was leading the Egyptian delegation in her capacity as the wife of the Egyptian President – upset the other Arab delegates with her speech about Israel. So after Mubarak had finished speaking, Trumpers made a point of congratulating her on her splendid speech as loudly as she could, within earshot of the other delegates.

It has been admitted that Trumpers’ extensive ‘address book’ was the reason why the UK Gov’t appointed her to that UN body – they believed that Trumpers’ connections would assist British interests.

In 1980 Trumpers hit the bigtime when Thatcher made her a Baroness. Which was extraordinary – because Trumpers’ record of achievement to date had been leaving a number of menial jobs under a very big cloud, resigning as a magistrate for an unspecified reason in connection with a rapist who was selling her wet fish and spending a year getting very drunk whilst she was Mayor. But Trumpers had a huge number of rich powerful friends, connections with the Royal Family and she had been on the scene when the action at Cliveden took place. Furthermore Trumpers had not succeeded in getting selected as a candidate to stand for election to the Commons. Trumpers was getting on in years now, she will have been pulling out all the stops.

Trumpers herself is quite frank about the way in which she ended up in the Lords. She explained that Barker ‘touted’ for her and Barker’s friends Peter Thorneycroft and Rab Butler ‘agreed’.

Trumpers was introduced to the Lords by Rab Butler and Peter Thorneycroft.

After a year in the Lords Trumpers was made a Privy Councillor!

Barker subsequently had a stroke and ended up in Westminster Hospital. All Barker’s VIP former pupils turned up to visit him, including Douglas Hurd, who was at that time a Cabinet Minister – this was probably when Hurd was Home Secretary. Trumpers was pleased to see that before Barker’s grand visitors arrived, the Angels would tidy up the whole ward so that it looked really good. No doubt the wards which did not contain patients who were mates with the Home Secretary were run along the lines of Mid-Staffs, with patients drinking the water out of vases because no-one had fed or watered them and being told by the Angels to crap in their beds because walking across the ward with a bedpan was too much like hard work.

Trumpers found that looking after Barker following his stroke was far too much for her, what with her having so many dinners with other Lords to eat, so Barker moved into an upmarket nursing home – which from what I can work out from information available on the internet caters for former military folk. Barker never served in the military. Was this yet another example of Trumpers and Barkers pulling strings? Barker seems to have behaved dreadfully there, was rude and offensive to other residents and routinely insulted the Matron. He pissed them off so much that when he finally pegged out, the Matron rang Trumpers, asked her if she was alone and when Trumpers said yes, simply responded by saying ‘well your husband’s died’ and hung up. Trumpers noted that Matron had wreaked her revenge, which implied that Matron didn’t have much time for Trumpers either.

Whilst Barker was spending his final days insulting everyone in the home for retired gentlefolk, Trumpers moved into a flat near Sloane Square – on land owned by the Duke of Westminster, Sir Peter Morrison’s old mate in the Chester Conservative Association. There were many politicians living in the same building as Trumpers, including Sir Alec Douglas-Home. Thatch went to visit Trumpers there on one occasion – Trumpers took the opportunity to ask Thatch to give Douglas-Home a Gov’t car and a driver, because according to Trumpers, that’s what former PMs are entitled to for the rest of their lives. Thatch explained that such an offer had been made to Douglas-Home, but he’d turned it down. Trumpers observed that she would therefore have to continue to give him lifts home from the Lords. I don’t know what underpinned Trumpers’ desire for Douglas-Home to be chauffeured around at public expense – whether Home not taking advantage of this offended Trumpers’ sense of what was right and proper or whether she just didn’t want to have to give him a lift home from the day centre.

In 1983, after the General Election, Thatch asked Trumpers to become a Whip. Trumpers couldn’t make up her own mind, so she asked Sir Percy Rugg ‘an old Leysian’ to advise her. Percy Rugg for many years had been a key figure in the London County Council – so he’ll have known a lot about the mistreatment of people at the hands of Top Doctors and paedophiles’ friends. Trumpers trembled in fear once she became a Whip and didn’t actually know what she was doing, but she was delighted to find the Labour Party Chief Whip supporting her on the grounds of female solidarity. Trumpers repaid the kindness by doing the same thing for the new Labour Whips in 1997. Isn’t it good to know that the glass ceiling was broken by these foolish old bags who did not know their arses from their elbows but who had made friends with the right people and kept their mouths shut about outrages and human suffering and then spent their careers doing each other favours. I’d be interested to know which dipstick from the Labour Party helped Trumpers out in 1983 – no doubt the Labour wimmin that she ‘supported’ in 1997 were Tony’s cronies, the Tessas and the Patsys and the Margarets etc.

Between 1983-85 Trumpers was Baroness-in-Waiting to the Queen, an appointment with which she was ‘absolutely delighted’. Trumpers’ role was to greet visitors to the UK on behalf of the Queen. Once more, Trumpers ‘met everyone’, although some of them – such as the King of Bahrain – Trumpers remembered from their time as pupils of The Leys School. Trumpers met the President of Afghanistan in this capacity. His wife had just given birth to a son – not a daughter thank God – and he was so overwhelmed that all he could talk about was the birth of his heir. After he left the UK, Trumpers purchased some things for the baby and sent them on to him via the Foreign Office – she was delighted to receive a letter of thanks from the President, so she knew that he had received them.

I too have purchased presents for new born babies, but in 1983 we were led to believe that the UK was not on the best of terms with the Afghanistan regime. Anyone remember the Russian-backed Afghanistan regime that we heard so much about back then? The regime that was fighting the ‘brave warriers’ of the Taleban – which at that time we were backing? How many people knew that Lilibet had invited the President of Afghanistan to Buck House and that Trumpers was busy celebrating the birth of his son and heir with him?

Trumpers was involved in something that I suspect was an even better kept secret that the visit of the President of Afghanistan to the Palace. After all, Lilibet does have a track record of inviting disgusting people to banquets with her – Nicolae Ceausescu arrived in 1979, the red carpet was rolled out and horrified Romanian exiles who were protesting were shielded from his view. As the final two fingers to the protesters, Lilibet gave Ceausescu an honorary knighthood. Which she later removed when we were allowed to hear about all those starving babies in the orphanages without electricity who had been infected with AIDS because hypodermic needles were re-used. ‘We didn’t know…how did it happen…never again…it’s not the British way of doing things…’ Trumpers mentions in her book that she trotted off to visit her old mate Sally Mugabe when she was dying as a result of kidney failure in St Mary’s Hospital Paddington.

Trumpers explains that Sally had been admitted to St Mary’s under a pseudonym ‘which we always did’ with VIPs. Yes, I know that happens – but this is Mugabe’s wife that we are talking about. The Mugabe, who was by then a complete pariah, who was wrecking his country and killing his opponents. Trumpers’ bit of diplomacy was to point out to the Top Doctor aka ‘kidney specialist’ who was treating Sally Mugabe that the pseudonym that had been given to her, ‘Mrs Smith’, was highly inappropriate because Ian Smith was one of the people whom the Mugabes hated most. The Top Doctor was horrified at the faux pas and another pseudonym was allocated.

Zimbabwe has always maintained that Sally Mugabe died from kidney failure in Harare on 27th Jan 1992. Trumpers was Baroness-in-Waiting TWICE – once between 1983-85, then again between 1992-97. So presumably this visit to a dying Sally in St Mary’s took place in 1992. So Sally Mugabe was receiving treatment in a London hospital under a pseudonym and being visited by Trumpers – before it had been admitted that the Zimbabwe healthcare system was so bad that Mugabe himself was going abroad for medical treatment. Now I would imagine that if Sally was dying at St Mary’s, it would have been very difficult to fly her back to Harare for her final days – she would be on dialysis, life-support, the lot – and the reason that she was in St Mary’s will have been to access treatment that was not available in Zimbabwe.

Did Sally Mugabe REALLY die in Harare? Or did she die in St Mary’s Hospital Paddington – and a whopper was told to conceal the fact that she had left Zimbabwe to receive care? I think we should be told. Particularly in the light of the row concerning the recent appointment of Mugabe as ‘goodwill ambassador ‘for WHO. Trumpers will not be capable of telling the truth about all this, so would any Top Doctors from St Mary’s like to enlighten us? Who was the ‘kidney specialist’ employed at St Mary’s in Dec 1991/Jan 1992? Anyone??? I’ll do a bit of research…

Trumpers’ diplomacy was called upon again after Sally’s death. When Robert Mugabe arrived in London to visit Lilibet! Trumpers was despatched to greet him and offered her condolescences. Trumpers was gobsmacked when Mugabe ‘glowered’ at her ‘in silence’ in response. That might have been because Mugabe had since the mid-1980s been having an affair with Grace and by the time that Sally died had had two children with Grace, which had become the focus of a major scandal in Zimbabwe.

 

At some point, Trumpers represented British interests in Mongolia after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Trumpers didn’t actually know where Mogolia was, but she didn’t have to find her own way there, she was loaded onto a plane and off she went. She received a lovely pale blue scarf as a present from her Mongolian hosts, so she wrapped it around her neck. Her driver later explained to Trumpers that the scarf was a sacred scarf and should NOT be wrapped around her neck. Trumpers observed that it is quite easy to make mistakes when overseas.

Trumpers also lets on that when Mongolia ‘struck copper and ore’, it became ‘hugely rich’ and that ‘because of the UK’s longstanding interest and support’ last year [that would be either 2009 or 2010], Trumpers and Michael Howard were presented with distinction orders at the Mongolian Embassy.

Trumpers – do you by any chance have any info about that utter skulduggery that Craig Murray the former Ambassador to Uzbekistan maintained was going on with British collusion – the boiling alive of opponents of the Uzbekistan regime etc? Jack Straw et al maintained that Murray was an insane boozing womanising liar who should not be believed. As you have spent your whole life being party to wrongdoing on the part of those in high places, I assume that if anyone knows the truth about Uzbekistan and Jack, it will be you. Feel free to contact me Trumpers. Diolch.

I’m wondering if someone in the Foreign Office decided to send Trumpers to foreign lands as a way of insulting people whom they didn’t like, in the way that ‘Private Eye’ maintained that sending Prince Philip to the funeral of Emperor Hirohito was a huge ‘fuck off’ from the UK. Because Trumpers continued to be sent on sensitive missions during which she offended everyone, Trumpers was sent as the Gov’t representative to the funeral of the Sri Lankan President, after he was killed by a suicide bomber. Trumpers purchased a black dress – although black is not the colour of mourning in Sri Lanka. Trumpers did actually notice this, but she managed to ‘make friends’ by eating polo mints throughout the funeral and offering them to the other mourners.

 

In 1985 Thatcher made Trumpers Parliamentary Under-Secretary of State in the DHSS, where Trumpers remained until 1987. Hence Trumpers appointing Savile as manager of Broadmoor.

In an interview with the ‘Guardian’ in 2004, Trumpers stated that Willie Whitelaw ‘a great friend of friends of mine’ ‘pushed’ Thatcher to ‘give her a job’ – I presume that she was referring to that post in the DHSS, because that was the first (and indeed only) real job that Trumpers had ever had – unless you count that one in Peter Jones from which she was sacked.

Willie Whitelaw was not only a great friend of friends of hers, Willie was obviously quite a good mate of Trumpers’ herself. In one interview with the ‘Guardian’, Trumpers recalls staying with Whitelaw in the Lake District when he was Deputy PM and Willie serving her breakfast in bed.

Whitelaw was famously loyal to both Heath and Thatcher. Some allege that Thatcher would never have become leader of the Conservative Party had Whitelaw not refused to stand himself out of loyalty to his friend Heath. When Thatch did become leader, Whitelaw was right behind her every step of the way. The public image of Whitelaw was that of a silly old buffer from another era, an image fuelled when Whitelaw shot a beater by accident on a grouse shooting expedition. The beater didn’t die, he just received a buttock full of lead shot, which added to the hilarity.

What I remember about Willie though was his frequent public statements that he would get tough on young thugs and that what they would be receiving would be a short sharp shock. By this time I had started to become aware that a proportion of ‘young thugs’ were actually highly distressed teenagers who had been on the receiving end of other thugs themselves. What I didn’t know was that when Whitelaw was huffing and puffing, the ‘young thugs’ in Bryn Estyn and other such establishments were being beaten and buggered by the people paid by the state to ‘look after’ them. Willie and the Tories had more than one go with the short sharp shock discourse – it first reared it’s head in the 70s but was wheeled out again during Thatcher’s first administration. It didn’t work on either occasion and had to be quietly abandoned.

Willie was elected Tory MP for Penrith and the Borders in 1955 and represented that constituency for 28 years. He held posts under Macmillan, Douglas-Home, Heath and Thatcher. To summarise, Willie was: Secretary of State for N Ireland, 1972-73; Chairman of the Conservative Party (under Heath), 1974-75; Deputy leader of the Conservative Party, 1975-91; Home Secretary, 1979-83.

In 1983 Whitelaw was given an hereditary peerage – the first one that had been created for 18 years. So someone was very, very grateful to Willie…Willie became Viscount Whitelaw and was appointed leader of the Lords.

On Willie’s various watches, aggressive policing and the ‘sus’ laws led to rioting in London, Bristol and Liverpool. Although Willie held secret meetings with the IRA whilst maintaining that he was doing no such thing, the IRA escalated their bombing campaign on the mainland which resulted in serious miscarriages of justice – which Willie and the gang did all they could to ensure were never rectified. After they were rectified, Willie’s gang made sour comments and refused to adequately compensate the people who’s lives had been ruined by corrupt police officers, prison officers, lawyers, judges and expert witnesses. 1980 Willie dissuaded Thatcher from going to Leeds to personally take charge of the Yorkshire Ripper investigation. Willie realised that was best left to the incompetent, corrupt police officers in Yorkshire whom he and Thatcher backed up fully.

Throughout Willie’s years in Gov’t, the paedophile gang in north Wales and Cheshire who were supplying Willie’s colleague Sir Peter Morrison and others with children to abuse ran riot.

Willie was Lord President of the Council, 1970-72 and 1983-88. The Lord President presides over meetings of the Privy Council and also serves as the Visitor for several universities, including Leicester, Liverpool, London (although not King’s College or UCL), Nottingham and Wales (not Lampeter).

So Willie was Visitor at the University of Wales – whilst Bangor employed Gwynne the lobotomist in the Student Health Centre, who had helped facilitate and conceal the paedophile ring in north Wales and the corrupt GP Dr D.G.E. Wood. The Wood who threatened me after I complained about Gwynne, who told me that my career would be damaged if I didn’t drop my complaint, who altered my medical records and who spent the next few years using passing on information about my whereabouts and employment – as well as Brown’s whereabouts and employment – to the paedophiles’ friends. Who used this info to shaft us. Brown was a PhD student at Leicester whilst Willie was Visitor there and had a few inexplicable experiences, as did I when I was a postgrad at the Royal Postgraduate Medical School (University of London) and worked for the Cancer Research Campaign at Nottingham University whilst Willie was Visitor at those institutions. I then encountered the crooks at St Georges Hospital Medical School – part of the University of London – shortly afterwards. As for Liverpool University – there were scores of connections between that institution and the Top Doctors and paedophiles’ friends in Wales. Dafydd was a graduate of Liverpool, as was Terry Maxwell the Clinical Director of Ysbyty Gwynedd. Professor Robert Owen the corrupt Medical Ombudsman employed by the Welsh Office to conceal the criminal activities of Dafydd and co was Prof of Surgery at Liverpool.

Other Lord Presidents have included: Lord Tony Newton, 1992-97; Lord Gareth Williams, 2003; Lady Valerie Amos, 2003-07; Lord Peter Mandelson, 2009-10; it is now Andrea Leadsom.

All of these names – with the exception of Leadsom – have been named and shamed on this blog. So the Lord President is obviously chosen with great care.

Willie Whitelaw was a Freemason.

 

In 1994 Trumpers literally gatecrashed a state occasion. One of Trumpers’ mates – the MD of Fortnum and Mason – was becoming a Privy Councillor and was so anxious at the thought of licking Lilibet’s boots as required that they asked Trumpers to accompany them. This was unheard of, but Trumpers did it again – she was given permission to break protocol. So Trumpers attended. Two men called Blair and Prescott were being sworn in as Privy Councillors at the same time. After the ceremony, Lilibet tried to make conversation -presumably with those old favourites ‘and what do you do?’ and ‘have you come far?’ – but Trumpers noted that ‘the two Labour men never opened their mouths’, they ‘said not a word to me’. Trumpers summed them up as ‘dreadful’. Trumpers – perhaps you have forgotten, but your colleagues in the House used to take the piss out of Prezza by ordering drinks off him, in tribute to his previous career as a bar steward. I loathe Prescott and Blair – why they ever agreed to become Privy Councillors I do not know –  but I think that I’ve concluded that Trumpers is even worse than they are.

In 2010 Trumpers’ flat mysteriously caught fire – ‘something electrical’ caused the bed to go up in flames and the fire spread – and there was substantial destruction. EVERYTHING that Trumpers had ever owned was destroyed – heirlooms, furniture, personal mementos, clothes, the lot. Trumpers genuinely did lose everything on that occasion. I bet Trumpers lost things like personal letters and photos as well. Perhaps from those days at Cliveden and the many years during which she danced all night with various paedophiles in Gov’t and the Lords. Trumpers’ isn’t the brightest of creatures but she doesn’t seem to have asked herself how ‘something electrical’ sets fire to a bed in the sort of flat where Trumpers resides, which will have the highest level of security, whilst she popped out for the evening. Electrical fires don’t start on beds. And flats in London usually have neighbours who notice things like smoke.

Trumpers’ insurance company returned some clothes to her which had not been destroyed by the fire. When Trumpers took receipt of them, she realised that they weren’t actually her clothes, but she kept them anyway.

Trumpers held her 90th burfday party in the Lords. John Major and Edwina Currie attended – Trumpers noted that they had ‘all been Ministers together in the Dept of Health’ (so Major didn’t stop that Savile appointment either then). Trumpers writes in her book that she ‘didn’t have a clue’ about Currie and Major’s relationship – although Trumpers was a Tory Whip when Major was in Gov’t and she knows Major and Norma Major ‘very well’. But then Trumpers managed to miss all the call girls and Russian spies at Cliveden. Although she knew that they were hidden when Lilibet arrived for tea and that one of them was paid to go away.

Cameron didn’t attend Trumpers’ party, but he did send her a letter. Except that someone nicked it before she opened it! Why ever would someone have an interest in reading mail to you from Cameron Trumpers? The Cameron who is married to the step-daughter of the son of your mate Bill Astor – of Cliveden fame. It was OK though, because Trumpers let Cameron know that the letter had been swiped, so Cameron wrote her another letter.

Trumpers knows that the end is near, although she does intend to go on for a bit longer. She has made arrangements for her own memorial service after she has gone – she wants Lord Elton and Lord Deben to speak, because they were ‘absolutely terrific bosses’ when she worked for them.

Trumpers was a Minister at the DHSS 1985-87, then at MAFF (Ministry of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food) 1987-89 and then 1989-92, during which time she was ‘number two at MAFF’). So I’d be interested to know when Lord Elton aka Rodney Elton was her boss. Elton was a Minister in the N Ireland office in 1979; Minister in the DHSS in 1981; then a Minister and then Minister of State in the Home Office 1982-84. In 1985 Elton was Minister of State in the Dept of Environment and then left Gov’t in 1986. So when and in what capacity was he Trumpers’ boss? Have more porkies been told somewhere along the line?

Rodney Elton was an hereditary peer, but like so many featured on this blog was one of the 90 who retained his seat after 1999. Elton’s wife Richenda is Lady of the Bedchamber to Lilibet.

Lord Deben was formerly known as John Gummer, old mate of Ken Clarke’s and a member of the Cambridge mafia who served Thatch so well ie. a former member of the Cambridge University Conservative Association. Gummer was Chair of the Tory Party, 1983-85 – the height of the paedophile years – and became a member of the Cabinet in 1989 when he was appointed Secretary of State at MAFF. Gummer became Secretary of State for the Environment in 1993 under John Major. The Tories believe that Gummer is their greenest member. Gummer is best remembered for presiding over the BSE crisis during 1989-90 – when Trumpers was at his side. Despite numerous misleading statements from Gummer et al that there was nothing at all for anyone to flap about, 176 people died. Gummer was formerly a member of the General Synod of the Church of England but in 1992 converted to Catholicism.

In 1998 Trumpers was made Extraordinary Baroness-in-Waiting.

For some reason Trumpers was made an honorary Fellow of the Royal College of Pathologists.

Trumpers herself attributes her whole career to Thatch. Trumpers is a big fan of Thatch and freely explains that Thatch made her a peer and then gave her every job that she had ever had. Trumpers’ showed that she had a heart of gold when in Thatcher’s later years Trumpers noticed that when Thatcher attended the Lords, Thatch would be left sitting in isolation because everyone else would walk out when Thatch arrived. So Trumpers made a point of sitting next to her. Did Trumpers and Thatch contribute to debates or even converse with each other? No. Trumpers would simply say to Thatch every so often ‘have you had enough now’? and when Thatch indicated that she’d spent enough time watching the scene, Trumpers would leave with Thatch.

Trumpers remained loyal to Thatch even after Thatcher died and the rest of us celebrated. Trumpers received an invitation to appear on ‘Have I Got News For You’ and walked out just before filming began when she realised that Thatch’s name was going to be taken in vain. Trumpers must have caused a real scene, because even Trumpers admits that she caused a great deal of trouble. We never heard anything about that in all those BBC retirement tributes to Trumpers….

 

So there we are. A life of immense privilege led by an aristocrat of very little brain, who constantly exchanged favours with the most dreadful people at the top of society and in Gov’t, some of whom were molesting children and destroying the lives of the people in receipt of the charity that they claimed to be dispensing.

95 glorious years!