The Wrong Man: The Shooting of Steven Waldorf and The Hunt for David Martin by Dick Kirby

explanations to the fingernail scratching on the magazine. First, that by acquiring Arnold’s registration number, this could also lead to him accessing Arnold’s home address, simple enough for someone of Martin’s ingenuity. From there, this could lead to associates of Martin’s kidnapping and threatening Arnold’s wife and daughters in exchange for Martin’s freedom and this is not as fanciful as it might sound; within three years, I would be dealing with a kidnapping where a family was kept tied up in their home overnight until the criminals’ plans were satisfactorily carried out.
    The second interpretation is that incorporating the information regarding the attack on the prison convoy was all a blind, a distraction, that this was disinformation, promulgated by Martin or at his instigation. In this way, everybody’s attention would be focused on the journeys from prison to court. Once he was back at Brixton he would be treated as a security risk and since he had escaped from there ten years previously (plus other attempts at escape from other high-security prisons), no one was going to take any chances. And while he was at court, there would be sufficient police officers to ensure his detention in the dock and when he was in the cells he would be incarcerated there for the shortest amount of time. As he was to be remanded on each occasion, he would be dealt with first, returned to the cells and there would be no question of him waiting for the ordinary prison van to turn up; he had his own bespoke prison van waiting to whisk him back to Brixton.
    So the route was varied and no such attempt to ‘spring’ Martin was made – but the fingernail indentations were an ominous sign which might mean something or nothing. Darby’s assessment of the prisoner was that ‘Martin was one man you couldn’t give an inch to,’ he told me. ‘There was something scary about him.’
    Three months passed. This was a long time between arrest and committal to the Old Bailey, where it was intended that Martin would stand his trial, but the police were meticulously assembling their case to ensure it was absolutely watertight. In addition, Martin was utilising delaying tactics. This was a common ploy, used by many manipulative criminals who knew there was no chance of bail. The reasons were multi-faceted; first, the amount of time that they spent on remand would be deducted from whatever sentence they ultimately received. Next, it afforded them days out of the remand prison. Also, they could extract enormous satisfaction from manipulating the system by making irritating and nonsensical demands. It was puerile behaviour but then it suited Martin, who possessed a shallow personality.
    There was another reason. After being deposited at Great Marlborough Street court, Martin had become thoroughly acquainted with his cell. Initially, while waiting to go into court Martin had been handcuffed to two officers in his cell. But as time passed and Martin appeared quiet and subdued at his court appearances, security grew lax and he went and stayed in his cell unaccompanied. Matters were going just the way he had planned them and Martin had plenty of time, therefore, to make his preparations.
    It was the practice of the officers escorting Martin to arrive at court early, lodge him in the cell – always the same cell – and then go off for breakfast. And why shouldn’t they? When the prison van entered the secure area behind the court building, the huge yard gates would be swung shut behind it and locked. Martin would then be taken in handcuffs down the metal staircase to the cells, the handcuffs would be removed, he would be placed in his own private cell, the door locked and bolted. From the metal staircase, one could clearly observe the structure of metal spikes around the roof guttering. It was difficult to imagine more robust security measures – and of course, Martin was safely ensconced in his cell.
    He arrived at court on Christmas