one of Gary’s lawyers, had evidence on his laptop relating to conversations that took place with regard to the statement from a US official that one state would like to see Mr McKinnon ‘fry’. Suddenly the laptop containing this information was stolen from his car. This was a bitter blow to our case and, rightly or wrongly, we started to suspect that it was no ordinary theft.
A file containing the notes of a meeting Karen had in the US embassy, also relating to the ‘fry’ statement, mysteriously disappeared from Karen’s office and this seemed just too much of a coincidence.
We started to become paranoid. Someone who worked for Gary’s lawyers was worried about being followed by someone from the FBI who was involved in the case: wherever she went, this man seemed to be behind her and she felt very intimidated by him.
It later transpired that Gary’s QC, Edmund Lawson, had his own notes about the ‘fry’ threat, but few were aware of this.
It seemed that our phones were also being monitored. One day, having just hung up after a phone conversation with a friend on our landline, the phone rang and, when I lifted it up, I heard a recording of our whole conversation.
Another time two of my friends rang me separately and were both able to get through at the same time – we had a three-way conversation on the landline. It was increasingly feeling as though we were living more in some kind of spy film than in reality.
• • •
16 June 2008 was the date of Gary’s appeal to the House of Lords.
Gary’s QC, Edmund Lawson, seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Whenever we asked where he was everyone was vague and spoke about him maybe being in Hong Kong or elsewhere. We couldn’t understand what had happened.
A QC named David Pannick was keen to take Edmund Lawson’s place and to represent Gary in the Lords on a
pro bono
basis and as he was well respected, we agreed that he could act for Gary, but we were extremely disappointed in not having Edmund Lawson as we believed that he would have won Gary’s case.
Civil liberties campaigning group Liberty was also intervening in the case, represented by the legendary Edward Fitzgerald QC.
The case was to be heard in the morning and I had to get up very early to do a radio interview before we left. We climbed into the car and turned the volume up loud, and for ten precious minutes could sink into a world of sound. I don’t know how I could survive without music, it’s such a release, such an escape from worry, even if only temporarily.
We jumped onto the train in the nick of time and even managed to get a seat. It was a hot day – I knew I shouldn’t have worn a jacket.
We arrived at King’s Cross train station twenty minutes later and ran down the escalator and onto the tube. A strikinglydressed woman with dark hair and a red coat kept staring at me. She was tall and slim and wore shiny black platform boots and looked as though she might be the head of a fashion company or something – she stood out from the crowd.
‘You’re Gary McKinnon’s mum,’ she said, as a statement rather than a question.
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Well done to you. Keep fighting and don’t give up. This is England and not America and if your son has to be tried anywhere it should be right here in an English court.’
‘That’s what we’re fighting for. We’re in court today.’
‘Good. Gary’s got the entire country behind him. An American would never be extradited to Britain if the boot was on the other foot, we all know that. Your son has embarrassed them by showing up how abominable their security is and the Yanks don’t like to lose face. Our government are wimps; let’s hope they have a spine among them. Good luck,’ she said, putting her hand on my shoulder before she stepped off the tube.
‘Thank you,’ I smiled.
‘She’s right, Wils; let’s hope they’ve got a spine among them.’
‘I doubt it but I hope so. This is our stop.’
We
A file containing the notes of a meeting Karen had in the US embassy, also relating to the ‘fry’ statement, mysteriously disappeared from Karen’s office and this seemed just too much of a coincidence.
We started to become paranoid. Someone who worked for Gary’s lawyers was worried about being followed by someone from the FBI who was involved in the case: wherever she went, this man seemed to be behind her and she felt very intimidated by him.
It later transpired that Gary’s QC, Edmund Lawson, had his own notes about the ‘fry’ threat, but few were aware of this.
It seemed that our phones were also being monitored. One day, having just hung up after a phone conversation with a friend on our landline, the phone rang and, when I lifted it up, I heard a recording of our whole conversation.
Another time two of my friends rang me separately and were both able to get through at the same time – we had a three-way conversation on the landline. It was increasingly feeling as though we were living more in some kind of spy film than in reality.
• • •
16 June 2008 was the date of Gary’s appeal to the House of Lords.
Gary’s QC, Edmund Lawson, seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Whenever we asked where he was everyone was vague and spoke about him maybe being in Hong Kong or elsewhere. We couldn’t understand what had happened.
A QC named David Pannick was keen to take Edmund Lawson’s place and to represent Gary in the Lords on a
pro bono
basis and as he was well respected, we agreed that he could act for Gary, but we were extremely disappointed in not having Edmund Lawson as we believed that he would have won Gary’s case.
Civil liberties campaigning group Liberty was also intervening in the case, represented by the legendary Edward Fitzgerald QC.
The case was to be heard in the morning and I had to get up very early to do a radio interview before we left. We climbed into the car and turned the volume up loud, and for ten precious minutes could sink into a world of sound. I don’t know how I could survive without music, it’s such a release, such an escape from worry, even if only temporarily.
We jumped onto the train in the nick of time and even managed to get a seat. It was a hot day – I knew I shouldn’t have worn a jacket.
We arrived at King’s Cross train station twenty minutes later and ran down the escalator and onto the tube. A strikinglydressed woman with dark hair and a red coat kept staring at me. She was tall and slim and wore shiny black platform boots and looked as though she might be the head of a fashion company or something – she stood out from the crowd.
‘You’re Gary McKinnon’s mum,’ she said, as a statement rather than a question.
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Well done to you. Keep fighting and don’t give up. This is England and not America and if your son has to be tried anywhere it should be right here in an English court.’
‘That’s what we’re fighting for. We’re in court today.’
‘Good. Gary’s got the entire country behind him. An American would never be extradited to Britain if the boot was on the other foot, we all know that. Your son has embarrassed them by showing up how abominable their security is and the Yanks don’t like to lose face. Our government are wimps; let’s hope they have a spine among them. Good luck,’ she said, putting her hand on my shoulder before she stepped off the tube.
‘Thank you,’ I smiled.
‘She’s right, Wils; let’s hope they’ve got a spine among them.’
‘I doubt it but I hope so. This is our stop.’
We
Similar Books
