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| Jailed for life in 1984, Thomas Campbell and Joe
Steele, have mounted numerous appeals - most notably in 1993 when Joe Steele
escaped from prison and superglued himself to the railings of Buckingham
Palace in order to protest his innocence. Both men were released on bail
in late 1997 pending an appeal against their convictions, only to have
their appeal rejected and be forced to return to prison in February 1998.
A further appeal was rejected in December 1998 (see
below). The Scottish CCRC is now (July 2000) demanding access to
additional documents relating to the case (Daily Telegraph
and
BBC News reports).
30 September 2001: A long article in Scotland's Sunday Herald on the case and the publication of Campbell's book Indictment: Trial by Fire 3 October 2001: A book is to be published on the case and Glasgow's so-called 'ice-cream wars'. Indictment: Trial by Fire has been written by Thomas 'TC' Campbell and Scottish crime journalist Reg McKay. 1 December 2001:
Case referred back to court of appeal.
This long-running case is also dealt with in some depth at the Scandals in Justice Web site - SIJ Glasgow Two. |
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11 July 2000 wants access to papers By Tara Womersley A justice review body has gone to court to get access to all Crown papers relating to two men it believes were wrongly convicted of murder in Glasgow's "ice cream wars". Thomas "TC" Campbell, 47, and Joe Steele, 38, were jailed for life for the murder of six members of the Doyle family in a fire attack in the Ruchazie area of Glasgow. The murders followed a feud over ice-cream routes connected with the distribution of drugs. Both men have protested their innocence for the 16 years since their trial. In 1998 a bid to hear fresh evidence was rejected in a split decision by three Court of Appeal judges. The Scottish Criminal Cases Review Commission has gone to the High Court for access to all documents relating to the case, including Government correspondence. It has already received some papers from the Crown, which is opposing the court action. The commission was set up last year and can refer a case back to the Court of Appeal. Gerard Moynihan, QC, for the commission, said it already had unrestricted access to police papers. He said the commission was entitled to an order from the High Court for the release of documents it believes may help its investigations. He added that the Lord Advocate's opposition failed to take into account the public interest in a thorough review of the case. Duncan Menzies QC, for the Crown, said it was not trying to obstruct the commission but the documents were in the same category as papers that the Scottish Executive's Justice Department had already declined to release. |
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30 September 2001 who's still fighting After 17 years in prison, convicted ice-cream wars killer Tommy 'TC' Campbell has one final chance to clear his name. By Alan Taylor Seventeen long years ago, in 1984, Thomas 'TC' Campbell heard a judge utter a familiar word for the last time. 'Guilty!' pronounced the venerable Lord Kincraig, setting in train a saga which continues to this day. 'It struck me like a physical blow, a bullet to the heart, staggering me back, stunned,' recalls Campbell. 'Did I miss a word there? Like the word 'not', perhaps? People screaming, wailing, crying, fainting in the court all around me. No, then, I hadn't misheard it! This was for real, but how? How was it possible? How could it be? How could they?' Questions such as these have buzzed in Campbell's head ever since as he has endured the hospitality of Her Majesty in a variety of Scottish prisons including Peterhead and Barlinnie. Now he is in Shotts, a bleak blot on Lanarkshire's dank landscape. Obsessed as ever with thoughts of freedom, he is still insistently, passionately and angrily arguing his innocence in a place where everyone is supposed to be guilty. Campbell was given a life sentence, with the recommendation that he serve a minimum of 20 years, for his part in the so-called ice-cream killings - one of Scotland's biggest mass murders. In April 1984 in Glasgow's east end, in lawless estates such as Ruchazie and Carntyne, in-fighting between rival operators of ice-cream vans was close to boiling point. Violence and intimidation were almost daily occurrences as the various factions vied for territory. Vans were raided and shotguns were fired. Pokey-hats and ice-lollies, not to mention single cigarettes, it seems, made for a lucrative business. But beneath a farcical veneer - police detailed to follow the ice-cream vans were dubbed the 'serious chimes squad' - criminals were at one another's throats. Something had to give. In the early hours of April 16 a fire was started in the cellar of a flat in Bankend Street, Ruchazie, which had petrol splashed across its front door. With the help of chemicals and car tyres it spread quickly. In the house were nine members of the Doyle family, one of whom, Andrew 'Fat Boy' Doyle, operated an ice-cream van whose windscreen had recently been shattered by a shotgun blast. The Doyles awoke to a flaming ceiling and dense black smoke on all sides. Six of the family died, including Andrew and his 18-month-old nephew. Not surprisingly, Campbell concedes, 'Glasgow went ballistic'. As he explains: 'The word on the street was, 'Find the fire-raisers.' Hanging would be too good for them.' Soon, however, he realised he was the prime suspect. 'People started moving away from me, avoiding me.' But he never seriously thought he would be charged. How wrong he was. Within a month the police had arrested seven people, who were tried in October 1984. Campbell and Joe Steele, the 'myopic mole', got life for the murders while four others were sentenced on lesser charges associated with the ice-cream vendettas. Campbell was given an extra 10 years for blasting a van with a shotgun. To the headline-writers it was an opportunity to vent venom. Campbell and Steele were child-murderers, family-killers, evil incarnate. What a pity hanging had been banned. In the lounge at Shotts Prison, where he is visited every Thursday evening by his young wife Karen and their boisterous three-year-old daughter Shannon, TC, as he is known to the guards, looks like any other long-term prisoner: whey-faced and deep-eyed. He is 48 and has spent almost half his life in jail. 'I've never said I was a choirboy,' he says. Campbell was brought up in a cramped flat in Glasgow's Cowcaddens in the 1950s, the youngest of 10 children. His father was a safe-breaker. When the family moved to Carntyne he soon became embroiled in the gang warfare that characterised Glasgow in the 1960s. Like everyone else he carried a knife - and used it. He was first stabbed when he was 15, he says, offering to show me where his guts spilled out. After that he was knifed regularly. In a book he has co-written with Reg McKay, a former social worker, he remembers sitting in a pub when he was 17 and being attacked three times by someone wielding a hammer. 'Everyone who had seen it thought they had witnessed my murder and couldn't believe I hardly felt it,' he recalls. He was the archetypal hard man, the Big Yin - the prototype, say some, for Billy Connolly's act. Back then TC stood for 'Top Cat' but these days Campbell says: 'I'm the original TC not because I'm a Tough C***, nor the Top Cat, nor Tommy f***in' Cooper for that matter. I'm TC because that's my name, my initials. But these bastards [the police] took it to mean that I was the prime Target Criminal because every time they punched in for data on the usual suspects my name popped up. Ping!' At the age of 18, in the early 1970s, Campbell was given 10 years for his part in a pitched battle. He was released in 1979. He was back in prison in 1982 and at the beginning of 1983 but when he came out he got into the ice-cream business and was determined to go straight. 'Well, straightish,' he admits. If someone offered him stolen goods such as sweets or cigarettes he wouldn't say no. He could make up to £350 a week on the van, he says: 'Good money in those days'. That is why he and others were so keen to protect their patches. Among those involved in what became the ice-cream wars were the Marchetti family, who owned hundreds of vans throughout the west of Scotland, and Thomas McGraw, known as the Licensee, a reputed millionaire who has been implicated in Glasgow gangland activity but never tried or convicted. This, then, is the background to the events of April 16, 1984, when the Doyle family was struck by tragedy. That night, says Campbell, he was asleep, at home in bed with his first wife Liz. It is a point which was not seriously disputed in court. Instead it was suggested that he was the brains behind the attack - which he vehemently denies. He was convicted on three pieces of evidence. First, a witness, William Love - a known criminal who was facing a sentence of 10 years for armed robbery and who had three times previously perverted the course of justice - said he had overheard Campbell, Steele and others talking in a bar about how they planned to teach 'Fat Boy' Doyle a lesson by setting fire to his house. The second piece of evidence was a statement Campbell allegedly made to the police saying: 'The fire at the Fat Boy's was only meant to be a frightener which went too far.' Third was a map of Ruchazie, on which the Doyle house was marked with an X, allegedly found in Campbell's flat. 'We were left with the impression that the Almighty himself could not have walked out that door with an acquittal, the prejudice against the accused was so great,' said lawyer, Donald Findlay QC, after the verdict was announced. Campbell maintains he was the victim of a set-up and over the years he has sought to dismantle it, poring over law books to which he has had to fight to get access. While Joe Steele chained himself to the railings at Buckingham Palace to protest his innocence, Campbell nearly starved himself to death, refused to cut his hair, wrote hundred of letters, made a documentary while in Barlinnie and talked to anyone who would listen. The breakthrough came when William Love admitted he had lied on oath. 'I did so,' he said, 'because it suited my own selfish purposes ... The explanation as to why I gave evidence is this: the police pressurised me to give evidence against Campbell, who they clearly believed was guilty of arranging to set fire to Doyle's house.' This admission led in 1997 to Campbell and Steele being granted interim freedom by the then Secretary of State of Scotland, Michael Forsyth, pending an appeal. But after a year they were back in jail again after three judges could not reach a unanimous conclusion. For Campbell and Steele it was a cruel blow. Now, however, after three further years behind bars, the Scottish Criminal Cases Review Commission is about to pronounce on the men's future, apparently on the basis of new documentation. 'I would hope there would be a decision in the near future,' a spokeswoman told the Sunday Herald. 'I couldn't put a timescale on it.' If this is music to Campbell's ears, he disguises it well. In the normal course of events he could expect to be out in 2004 - earlier if he 'confessed', which he refuses to do. But he has made the mistake of allowing hope to seep into his psyche too many times. He is, he insists, laid-back, as sane as he could be in such a situation, though he suffers from stress and blinding migraines. He gets letters, he says, from William Love asking for help : 'He's tried to commit suicide 11 times.' Joe Steele was moved to Shotts two years ago. He is at the other side of the lounge, a wee man with a wisp of hair, hugging a visitor. 'I wouldn't like anyone to think we were mates,' says Campbell, 'because we weren't.' Before they became the Glasgow Two, he says, Joe was a petty thief, high on drugs, a nuisance - not in his league. 'Joe's a character. He's had to grow up in prison,' says Campbell, his gaze wandering to his daughter playing with other children who have come to see their fathers. When visiting time is up she cries. 'She wants to stay in prison. She doesn't want to leave,' says Karen - all too aware that leaving is still not an option open to her husband. Indictment: Trial By Fire by TC Campbell and Reg McKay is published by Canongate, priced £11.99 |
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