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| In 1977 Reg Dudley and Bob Maynard were convicted - on the strength of an alleged confession - of two murders which allegedly taken place in 1974. Both men have consistently protested their innocence. Reg Dudley was released on parole in 1997 (Daily Telegraph); Bob Maynard was reelased on bail in November 2000 (Guardian), after their case had been referred back to the court of appeal by the CCRC (Guardian). Their appeal was heard in July 2002; the nub of the case is outlined in an interview with Reg Dudley and an article by Duncan Campbell ahead of the appeal. The appeal was allowed on 16 July 2002 and the convictions of both men were quashed (Guardian). |
This
case is dealt with at length in "The
Legal & General Gang" by Bob Woffinden in his 1987 book Miscarriages
of Justice (see Books
section).
This is a long article, and has, therefore, been presented as a printable version in "pdf" format. Click on the icon above to view and print out the document (requires Adobe Acrobat). |
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7 July 2002 As part of The Observer's debate on the reform of the criminal justice system, Reg Dudley, who was convicted in 1977 of an horrific double murder, urges caution on the Government in its drive to secure more convictions This week, more than 25 years after my friend Bob Maynard and I were sent to prison for two murders we didn't commit, evidence of severe irregularities in the original investigation will finally be heard by the Court of Appeal. New expert testimony suggest that the main planks of the case against us, our supposed 'confessions', were fabricated - as we have claimed all along. The Crown's star witness has also made a statement admitting perjury. In June 1992, The Observer published an investigation into our case. More than a decade later, it looks as if the courts are finally catching up. I am now 77. My marriage broke up long ago. I missed my children flourishing into adulthood; the childhoods of my grandchildren. I had to live with the label of being one of the notorious 'torso murderers', who had shot, decapitated and dismembered one man, and then brutally disposed of a second. Although the trial judge recommended we serve 15 years, Bob and I were 'knocked back' time and again by the Parole Board and Home Secretary - because we would not admit our guilt. Before I finally came out in 1998, I had done the rounds of Britain's toughest jails: Dartmoor, Gartree, the Scrubs. So forgive me if I sound cynical. When I hear politicians and police officers claiming that our criminal justice system needs reforming to make it easier to get convictions, that guilty men are going free and that victims are unprotected, I feel a need to interrupt. Hold on. Be careful. Bob and I are victims too. I've never tried to conceal the fact that I had previous convictions. But I wasn't a murderer; I was a 'fence', a buyer and seller of stolen property. I also had a close relationship with a bent detective, Alec Eist. My friends knew that if they were in trouble, for a few grand channelled through me, Alec would do what he could to make evidence 'disappear'. He was eventually arrested in Sir Robert Mark's drive against corruption. Maybe this made me a target; or maybe it was that the officer who led the investigation, the late Metropolitan Police Cdr Albert Wickstead, had tried and failed several times to recruit me as a grass. Yet by October 1974, when the grisly remains of a criminal acquaintance, Billy Moseley, began washing up on the shores of the Thames, I'd been retired from crime for years. I lived quietly, with a stake in a pub, and drew a disability pension. The following September, the decomposed body of Billy's friend, Micky Cornwall, was found in a shallow grave in Hertfordshire. Wickstead decided Micky had been trying to find Billy's killers, and had 'got too close'. In January 1976, Bob and I were arrested, questioned and charged. The trial, held at the Old Bailey, lasted seven months - the longest murder case in English legal history. There were no eyewitnesses, forensics or plausible alleged motive. In the end, it boiled down to two things - the 'confessions', supposedly the contemporaneous notes of police interviews which we had not signed, and the evidence of an armed robber named Tony Wild, who claimed I admitted the murders when we were both on remand in Brixton. Wild received an unusually light sentence for 10 armed robberies. He was looking at 15-20 years. He was out within four. Wild told the court that I'd described cutting off Billy's head and taking it down to Brighton, where I'd shown it to the man who ran my pub there - Oliver Kenny. Then, according to Wild, I'd thrown it into the sea. In his summing up, Mr Justice Swanwick told the jury that if they believed Wild was telling the truth, he was a 'very important witness'. Six weeks after we were sentenced, Billy's head turned up - slowly defrosting in an Islington public toilet, wrapped in a copy of an evening paper published on the last day of the trial. It looked as if the real killer felt guilty, and was trying to help Bob and I appeal. But despite the stress Swanwick had placed on Wild's testimony, the Court of Appeal refused to quash the convictions. The presiding judge, Lord Justice Roskill, added some hostile comments on how we'd wasted the courts' time by challenging the alleged confessions. A few months later, Roskill refused to free the Guildford Four when they fought their first appeal on the basis that the IRA men captured in the Balcombe Street siege had by then admitted planting the Guildford bombs. Talking to the journalists Duncan Campbell and Graeme MacLagan, Wild first retracted his perjured evidence many years ago. After The Observer 's investigation in 1992, the Home Office reviewed the case - and refused to refer it back to the Court of Appeal. The new Criminal Cases Review Commission finally took this step in 2000. In his statement to the Commission, Wild says: 'I would like to make it clear that the whole of my evidence against Reg Dudley and Bob Maynard was entirely false.' For years, our big hope was to find a way of proving that our 'confessions' had been fabricated. In 1989, when the freshly developed 'Esda' (electrostatic document analysis) test began to put right numerous miscarriages of justice which rested on false confessions, that hope seemed to have materialised. It was Esda tests on the original police interview notes which led to the collapse of the Birmingham Six, Tottenham Three and West Midlands Serious Crime Squad cases. The following year, our solicitor, James Saunders, wrote to the Met asking for the original notes of our interviews with Wickstead and his colleagues. The police told him they had been destroyed. The Observer discovered that almost all the other documents in the vast police case file, including photocopies of the notes, had been preserved. But a Met spokesman said there had been a 'mis understanding'. In September 1989 - after Esda had claimed its place in history with the breaking West Midlands Crime Squad scandal - a police sergeant at the Met property store in Hendon had shredded the originals. The spokesman said he had been 'under pressure from his superiors to clear space'. We never gave up. I kept myself sane by painting, and finally, when I was well into my seventies, the Home Office decided that despite my refusal to 'address my offending behaviour', I no longer posed a danger to the public. I could safely be released. And now, thanks to the CCRC, we have a fresh appeal. Dr Robert Hardcastle, an expert document examiner with 22 years' experience, hopes to destroy the confessions' validity in the simplest fashion. He says it just isn't physically possible to have made the 'contemporaneous' notes in the time the police say my main interview took place. The police have always denied the confessions were made up and a mistake might have been made about the timing of the interview. When the appeal opens on Wednesday, Hardcastle will be our first witness. I know what all those cops and politicians who want to 'reform' the criminal justice system are going to say: that all this happened long ago, that standards and practices are different now and that changes to the law make it harder to run an investigation in the way Bert Wickstead organised the torso murder enquiry. I'd like to quote another remark Swanwick made in his summing up. The most crucial decision the jury had to make, he said, was whether they could trust the confessions. 'It is suggested that there has been willing and enthusiastic compliance by all ranks from commander and chief superintendent down to detective sergeant and below,' he said, 'in disgraceful conduct which, if detected, should, at least, involve dismissal, disgrace and prosecution. If you think it really may be so that the confessions were fabricated, then it must mean that all those police officers are either very wicked or very weak men, and it would undermine the whole prosecution case.' The alternative, which he seemed to prefer, was 'the ganging up of prisoners in a series of plots to escape conviction'. When Lord Denning once dealt with the Birmingham Six, he said much the same thing. It isn't fashionable to believe in conspiracies; 'conspiracy theorist' is a term of abuse. But when the Appeal Court freed the Birmingham Six, it implicitly recognised that here, at least, a conspiracy to frame innocent men had taken place. It is being invited to reach a similar conclusion this week. The police maintain there was no conspiracy. Conspiracies, especially among police officers, are hard to detect, and even harder to smash. It's true that legal changes - particularly the Police and Criminal Evidence Act, with its insistence that defence lawyers attend police interviews, and that such interviews be taped - have made it impossible to convict on the basis of an unsigned confession. On the other hand, it's precisely that Act which is now driving the police and their political allies towards 'reform'. Confessions have become much more rare. They used to be the mainstay of the system. It's time, as Tony Blair puts it, to 'rebalance' the criminal justice system away from suspects' rights. Over 25 years, the belief that one day my name would be cleared has kept me going. I can never forget what happened. Society needs to retain its long-term memory, too. Reg Dudley was talking to David Rose |
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11 November 2000 bail by appeal court By Rebecca Allison and Nick Hopkins A convicted double murderer at the centre of one of Britain's longest-running miscarriage of justice cases has been released from jail after the court of appeal granted him bail. Robert Maynard, 61, was sentenced to life in jail 25 years ago for the murders of Billy Moseley and Micky Cornwall, crimes he has always denied. The case became known as the "torso murders" when parts of Moseley's body were washed up on the banks of the river Thames. Maynard and his alleged accomplice Reg Dudley were convicted of murder at the Old Bailey in 1977 and had an appeal dismissed in 1979. Dudley was given parole in 1997. The pair have always protested their innocence. Their cases were recommended for review by the criminal cases review commission, which spent three years examining the evidence. The prosecution said Maynard and Dudley killed Mr Moseley either because he was having an affair with another criminal's wife or because he had accused Dudley of being an informer. Mr Cornwall was murdered because he knew the killers' identities and vowed to avenge his friend, the jury heard. From the outset campaigners were concerned about the safety of the convictions. There were no witnesses to the murders, nor forensic evidence. The prosecution relied heavily on the the testimony of an armed robber, Tony Wild, who said he overheard Maynard and Dudley boast about the killings when they were at Brixton prison, south London. But Wild, a born-again Christian, admitted that he had lied because he wanted a lighter sentence for a robbery charge. Mr Dudley said: "He has been in for 25 years now and that is quite enough for an innocent man. This also gives a great boost to our appeal." The appeal is expected to be heard in the spring. |
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