Simon Hall’s blogs

Simon Halls blogs were dictated word for word by Hall to his wife over a recorded prison telephone. The only input Hall’s wife had was in relation to when he stated “no one really knows me” – the words “apart from my wife” were added.

8th December 2012 – Internet trolls

I hate all those internet trolls!

Nothing better to do than to sit at their computers chatting nonsense they know very little about, printing lies and starting controversy.

I bet they’re probably very bitter about some kind of rejection, Maybe their loved ones left them because they were inadequate, so they deflect their feelings of anger and resentment onto others, perhaps others who have overcome the terrible contraint of a situation like ours.

They see me, an Innocent man doing life for another mans crime and they see you, my gorgeous wife, who battles hard against the authorities and their incompetence, because she loves her man and all she wants is for him to be home.

And they hate her for it? Sick *****!

…so they spread rumours, post lies, and the mindless sheep believe the lies and buy into it.

How sick does a man have to be to lie about you putting up pictures of kids? WTF? Unless of course that too is a deflection and that’s actually a fragment of his own screwed up personality? Like the closet “straight man” who beats up gay’s to try to hide his own feelings about his true sexuality… perhaps he’s actually a ‘secret of his own?’

I bet some of these trolls have actually tried their luck with you in the past…. I know one of them has for definate. I wonder how many more of them found their wife or girlfriend in bed with their brother?

So you reject him too, and now he slates you online. It’s sh*t like that can turn a man into a rapist because he’ll have a power complex. A ticking time bomb! I’ve seen them walking these landings.

Others are just evil ***** or nosey know it alls. That last letter to the CCRC was awesome by the way, I couldn’t have written it better myself.if I tried. You’ve awesome! From those comments these morons don’t understand a single thing.

None of them truly care about MOJ’s. They just need direction to vent their own self-loathing so they pick on people when their low. You know,kick them when they’re down. Sad people. I laugh at them all! We will laugh at them. When we’re finally together and they’re still sat in their pants at their computers picking on someone else.

They’ll get their just desserts one day. They’ll come unstuck!

28th January 2013 – Message from Simon

It’s bit a long time since I have spoken out about anything, but with my recent move to open conditions after achieving category D status, the CCRC still investigating my case, speculation and hearsay about my alibi appearing online and endless abuse of my wife for years, this is long overdue.

I achieved category D status on the 1st November 2012 after being given a Guittard hearing. I was ill in bed at time my offender manager came to bring me the good news. I was chuffed to bits and so pleased that the parole panel had realised what I have known all along, that I am not a risk to the public. I expected a long wait for my move to Hollesley Bay due to a lack of spaces and I had witnessed other guys waiting a year for a space to come up. However, I found myself on the sweat box on the 30th November 2013 heading back to East Anglia after years of being so far away from home. It took 4 days to get here though! When I was about an hour away from the prison , I was told I would have to spend the weekend in HMP Chelmsford because we had been travelling for too long and there were 2 of us on the bus and only one space available at Hollesley Bay.

I found myself in the cell nextdoor to the cell I was in when I was on remand in 2003, just before my trial, which freaked me out and took me back all those years, reminding me of all the fears, anxiety and trepidation I felt as a 25 year old. It hadn’t changed much, 22-23 hour bang up and I was treated like an animal, although the other prisoners seemed a lot younger.

To cut a long boring and a little surreal weekend story short I am here at Hollesley bay. No walls, no gates, just an imaginary fence marked out by a few ‘no inmate beyond this point’ signs. Yes I could just walk off if I wanted to, but why would I do that and ruin all the hard work I’ve done to get here? Lets not forget I’m an appellant and I got here well before my next parole date. Most lifers do over tariff, most of the lifers who are maintaining innocence do well over there tariff. I wonder how many other people in my position progress through the system as successfully as I have. I wouldn’t mind finding out actually. All the screws in this prison tell me I have done well to get here this early. Its so much easier for Stephanie to get here too, so that’s a big worry off my mind. I don’t think people realise that is use to take her 4-5 hours to get to Portsmouth and sometimes much longer to get back home. I don’t know how many times she made that journey for me but she kept on making it. Now I am only 17 ½ miles away and I am so glad she doesn’t have to go through all of the hassle of travelling.

I wont say anymore about this prison because that is not why I am writing. I want people to see how I am doing and how I am feeling not my critique of HMP Hollesley Bay.

Most of you will be aware that the CCRC are still investigating my case. They have been for quite a few years now. What most people don’t know is that communication between the CCRC and me, Stephanie, Dr Naughton @ the University of Bristol and Gabe Tan aren’t brilliant. I don’t really want to criticise the CCRC and their protocols and procedures, because that could be seen as biting the hand that feeds you, but dealing with the CCRC is like banging your head against a brick wall.

There is no transparency, no real information, progress reports don’t tell us anything except that they cant tell us anything and they will contact us in due course. Stephanie has made submission after submission to the CCRC, after countless long days of constant investigation and study of the thousands of documents that make up the case papers (although Suffolk police clearly failed to disclose all documentation) all of it relevant, all of it missed or ignored by everyone else who has worked on this case. Some of it relates to crucial evidence that easily renders the fibre evidence invalid (for the second time) but the CCRC seem reluctant to act upon it and I don’t get it.

When we ask questions we are told that the CCRC don’t give information on a piecemeal basis. What? Why? I have been sitting in prison for over 10 ½ years for a crime I did not commit and you say you are helping but you wont tell me what is going on…….

We also can’t get statements, CCTV and access to evidence until the CCRC have made their decision. It doesn’t make sense. Stephanie’s endless work on this case is so close to fruition regarding the alternative viable suspects but now the CCRC are working on it, who can get the CCTV, statements and evidence, you would think they would share the information and we could all work together. Not happening.

Fibre experts in America who have also shared concerns about the fibre evidence were ready and willing to work on this case and we told the CCRC that, but they did nothing and the experts could have been finished by now.

There is still possible DNA that is definitely not mine that has yet to be tested. I just don’t get it!

Some people would think I am being foolish for openly criticising the CCRC, but if you were in my position you would be tearing your hair out too. At times you have to make decisions that can be perceived differently by different people, depending on your outlook on life.

That leads me nicely to what I am going to talk about next. There has been a small amount of speculation about me changing my alibi recently and lying to police. Not true. I’ll tell you about it now.

On the morning of 16th December 2001, while I was in Ipswich, sobering up with my mate, we came across an open window, at a company he used to work for, so we thought it would be a laugh to look around inside. I don’t know why I decided to pick up a couple of little CD players but I did along with a little locker. It was supposed to be a bit of fun but it was a stupid thing to do and I regret it. When I was interviewed by police and I was asked about my whereabouts I told them I was hanging around sobering up with a pal at Majors corner in Ipswich, from where I left a message on my parents answer phone at 5.01am, to say don’t worry I will be back in time for the journey to Grantham for our Christmas dinner with the extended family. Majors corner is nearby to the building I am referring to and is on my described route home so my alibi has not changed.

If you are wondering why I did not tell this to the police, well put yourself in my shoes for a minute -you have been arrested for murder as part of a ‘burglary gone wrong’ to mention that is to give the police motive and would be a prosecutors dream. In any case, they were trying to solve a murder that I did not commit and I really did not think I would be charged, prosecuted and found guilty. This was never linked to Joan Albert’s murder. Our fingerprints would have been everywhere because we were drunk and just messing about. I should now point out that the building I entered was fibre taped and no black flock, or polyester fibres were found there. Just like no fibres were found at the Old Rep & the Woolpack public houses and the chair (stool) I sat on when I got home. In fact, no fibres were found anywhere that I had been that night. Lets not forget than none of the witnesses who saw me that night said I was wearing black. Even Judith Cunnison, the prosecutions fibre expert said that the fibres in my cars were from secondary contact, not direct contact, so by her own admission I wasn’t wearing anything made from these fibres. Is this why the police have always been reluctant to hand over the CCTV evidence? My personal theory is that the fibres in the wardrobe at my parents house had been there for years and my clothing had simply picked them up….. secondary contact.

Anyway I digress. In the eyes of the law I committed a commercial burglary that night, but I didn’t break in and I had no intention of taking anything when I entered. Whatever your views are on this it does not make me a murderer! I didn’t lie to the police and it doesn’t change my alibi everything I told the police was true and I stand by my word.

The police built a case around me it was conviction by design. I know it and they know it. This latest information only recently came to relevance since I looked at all my paperwork again, not just with the fibres but with timings. There is no way I could have dropped Jamie off at 5.30am. Not after hanging around, going into the commercial premises, walking the route I gave to the police, and driving back from the Woolpack, where I had left my car and the keys behind the bar. We didn’t even leave Majors corner straight away. Food for thought isn’t it!?

I say to whoever reads this, make of it what you will. People seem to form opinions without knowing all the facts. Since my conviction I have learned that we did not know all the facts. The prosecution knew all the facts but carried on regardless, leaving the decision in the hands of the jury who didn’t know all the facts. People tend to be narrow minded and stubborn.

Only last night in fact, did I bare witness to the point I am trying to make here. Stephanie has been tirelessly working on my case for years. No one sees the all nighters she pulls, organising things, sending emails, making submissions, studying case papers, researching other cases, numerous telephone calls to all and sundry etc etc. At the same time she is visiting me too, devoting her whole life to getting me out of here and people wonder why she suffers with her health. She has very little help. None from my family, who seem more interesting in breaking us up because they think she is not good enough for me, saying that she attacks people and she is this and she is that.

I am absolutely sick of it. Stephanie is giving everything she has got the whole time and she has to put up with abuse from people who don’t have a clue what is going on. My older brother got sucked into it again last night and now he is also publicly abusing my wife, as if his actions at the Court of Appeal and occasions prior to that weren’t bad enough.

Hold on a minute. Why are people attacking the only person who is doing something for me? Do I not get a say in this or are you all happy to think I am brainwashed? I am my own man. I make my own decisions and choices. Stephanie is my choice and I am proud to be her husband. Speak to any bloke in here (or out there for that matter) and they would give their right arm for a women like Stephanie, who is in it for the long haul, for better for worse……

I don’t like washing my dirty laundry in public like most people, but there comes a time when things must be said. I chose to ignore my family. Why? Because they treated Stephanie like dirt and still do, but they blame her for it just like many others. So perhaps it would surprise people to learn that Stephanie was actually encouraging me to speak to them. See, people don’t know all the facts.

For example, what if I told you that it took my family 9 days to tell me about a family bereavement? But I still wrote to ‘The Family’ expressing my sympathies and support at such a difficult time. Shame they couldn’t extend the same courtesy.

The truth is that I cut myself off from everyone because everyone read into the rubbish that was put out about my wife, without checking the facts, even me once. My own mother wrote to me telling me absurd things about Stephanie that she had read on line and instantly believed it. It is that kind of narrow minded thinking that got me convicted in the first place. Come on people, if you are really interested in my case, leave her alone! Let her get on with what she is doing. But no, it is easier to jump on the bandwagon isn’t it? So, Stephanie makes a few waves every now and then and wont be fobbed off. You can’t expect ‘softly softly’ to get results. It you wanna make an omelette…….. you gotta break some eggs. She fights for what she believe in and I admire her tenacity and commitment. I have spent over 10 ½ years of my life banged up for someone else’s crime. The real killer(s) walk among you all right now, but you would rather care about ganging up and bullying the only person I have seen who actually holds her principles dear.

So, for clarity, Stephanie is my wife. If you disrespect her you disrespect me. I will defend her from the wolves and vultures. If you don’t like it then you can keep your opinions to yourselves and you can ‘do one!’

No one has the right to tell me what is best for me. If you want to talk about someone, talk about me. But make sure you have got your facts straight or you are just as bad as all the others. You know where I am if you want the facts, I am ready to educate you all! (Send an SAE because I’m not a post office).

Look, this situation is stressful for all involved but Stephanie and I are having to put up with so much unnecessary bulls**t. It saddens me that human beings can be so nasty, but we are all products of our own environment I suppose.

My goal and Stephanie’s goal is for me to clear my name and for us to start a family. That’s all we want. If you want to help, please help, but if all you want to do is criticise and make trouble with your lies and games, we don’t want to know and you should be ashamed of yourselves. Do a sponsored silence for Comic Relief or do something else worthwhile.

Leave the adult stuff to the grown ups.

Simon Hall – A767 8AC
HMP Hollesley Bay

1st February 2013 – Simon says Sorry

I want you to imagine the police smashing your front door in. I want you to imagine them cuffing you, locking you in a cell, questioning you, telling you that they think you are a murderer. But you are not a murderer and you know nothing about it. They are asking you all sorts of questions and they aren’t happy with your answers, now they are telling you that you did it but you know you didn’t. They are telling you that they have evidence that can prove you did it, but you know they haven’t, you know they couldn’t have, so what’s going on?

Are you worried? Are you nervous? Are you scared?

Well I was! I even told the police that I was during my 3 days of interviews.

So here’s a good idea, tell them you did a burglary at around 5am that night because that will help your alibi for a murder that they say happened at 6am.

anyway, your mate will confirm your story…….

What’s that? His account is different to yours? He says you didn’t leave the Old Rep until 5am. Perhaps somebody is covering their own ar*e here? It makes you think about that article he did in the Evening Star newspaper, where he says ‘They’ve got the wrong man.’

Is that so hard to believe? Why didn’t I tell my legal team? Well I told some of my family about the burglary on a visit only a day or two after I came back from court. On that visit we mutually decided that it wouldn’t help my case because it only served to prove motive. The police were looking for a motive, initially implying that I saw Mrs Albert as a pain to my mother. Mum was always round there helping her because her own family never really bothered with her. But police gave up on that and went for the burglary motive.

You might think; ‘why this why that?’ It’s easy for people to think that if it was them they’d have done this or they’d have done that. That may be so, but it wasn’t them was it? It was me and I certainly wasn’t thinking straight. It was all so surreal but so frightening. I was crushed by the severe pressure I was under. This was like a tidal wave and I was just swept along with it. I couldn’t concentrate, I wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t eating, I just wanted to hide away. I wanted to die!

I tried, in October 2003, after my first appeal was refused, rushed to hospital with severe blood loss. I’d lost all hope. That was the only thing I could think of. I wasn’t using my brain.

It was around that time that I got into heroin. I’d never smoked it before and I’ve never dreamt of smoking it before but I needed something as an escape to rely on, to get my mind out of prison, through the bars.

I was always off my face, I was always trying to forget where I was.

I was on heroin for about 4 years, my health had suffered. I’d lost so much weight, my mind was scrambled, I was so ill, I was in a bad way. I was even on the gear when the BBC came to HMP Dovegate to film the Rough Justice documentary.

Relationships were strained. I was a mess. I didn’t know if I was coming or going. I didn’t know who or what to trust.

Even though my parents knew about the burglary, they never brought it up again. They didn’t tell my legal team and neither did I because I genuinely believed it wouldn’t help the situation. I didn’t even tell my own wife! Not because I wanted to keep secrets from her, but because it seemed so irrelevant to the situation at the time and I didn’t want anyone to know I’d done burglary.

I was embarrassed about doing it, but I would have got round to telling my wife. My murder conviction doesn’t embarrass me because I didn’t do it. Does that make sense?

My parents were embarrassed of the burglary. Stephanie phoned one of them about it as soon as she found out. They said they would call Stephanie a liar if she told anyone that they knew. It seems as though my own family might not back me up on all this and deny all knowledge. It wouldn’t be to protect me by the way, it would be to protect their own reputation in the village and if they thought I had anything to do with Mrs Albert’s murder they would have gone to the police.

So how did this get out? Well one of the family has obviously told someone, who told someone else, who told someone else etc etc. As soon as Stephanie found out she called me idiot! She screamed and swore and called me all the names under the sun and obviously she wasn’t happy that she had found out through someone else. But she got on it straight away, contacted the CCRC and spoke with the University of Bristol Innocence Project.

I didn’t realise until looking at all of the case papers I had (although even after 10 ½ years we still haven’t been disclosed all of them) that it might actually have relevance and it could help me. But even then I was still struggling a little because I was thinking that everyone’s reaction would be to think ‘well he’s a burglary, so he must of done it.’

Stephanie was shouting down the phone at me ‘For gods sake Simon, the two aren’t linked!’

Sometimes you make decisions that have a huge bearing on your life. This is one of mine. So imagine how I’m feeling right now, realising that if I had said something back then, or even if my parents had said something back then, I might have been a free man years ago.

I haven’t fully processed that in my mind because quite frankly I don’t want to. It’s going to be hard to accept that because I was afraid, I probably put myself and kept myself in prison for all this time.

I think another part of the reasons for not saying anything is a combination of my fears, my stupidity, not wanting to put my mate in trouble, or my family for that matter. None of this matters anymore.

I want to apologise to everyone that I have let down but I hope this explains my reasoning.

Remember, whether you understand it or not, it didn’t happen to you, it happened to me!

6th February 2013 – Mud Sticks

Everyone has baggage, relationships that hurt, events that leave scars, emotional and psychological problems.

In the eyes of the law I’m a convicted killer, an evil man who committed such a brutal and savage crime, cold and calculating, showing no remorse.Some people have even suggested I should be hung. Bring back the death penalty for murder, he’s a monster…..

I’m no monster. I’m no killer. That’s the problem in today’s multimedia society information at your fingertips and everyone has got somewhere to voice their opinion. Everyone has the right to their opinion, even me. People don’t know me. No one truly knows me (except my wife) but everyone has an opinion. Based on what though? Newspapers, TV, internet, word of mouth, Chinese whispers?

I will tell you about me, from the horses mouth as it were……

I was adopted as a baby. That’s no secret, it’s been in all the articles in the papers and court documents. One of the neighbours quoted it as if to say ‘Don’t blame the parents because he’s not actually their offspring. He’s someone else’s devil child.’ Pi*s off mate, never heard of nurture over nature? I am a product of my own environment. I was initially fostered and then adopted, I was on the at risk register even before I was even born. My biological parents couldn’t cope. Apart from the abuse as a baby, my biological father gave my biological mother an ultimatum, him or the kids. She chose him.

So I ended up with Lynne & Phil. From the outside looking in they were brilliant parents and would do anything for us. They would go without things so we could have it. They taught us right from wrong, blah blah blah. They seemed the perfect parents. But looks can be deceptive and it was all about appearances for them, being seen to be good parents. I said they would go without things so we would have it, but they would constantly remind us of the fact, guilt tripping and mind games.

My first memory of this ‘appearances’ thing, is when I was packed off to primary school wearing a tie on elastic. It wasn’t the uniform. No one else in the whole school wore a tie apart from me and my brother. That immediately caused separation and I stood out from the crowd, different from everyone when I was just 5 years old. All for ‘appearances’ sake.

I had to go to Sunday school. 2 hours every Sunday morning, learning about Jesus, but Mum and Dad never went to church for as long as I’ve known, except for special occasions. I never wanted to go but it was compulsory for reasons of appearance. I also couldn’t go out on a Sunday, everyone else was at the field or playing football or whatever, but I was in my room, playing Lego, or with my action man.

They are my earliest memories of the controlling and programming, along with going to relatives houses and having to sit there in my Sunday best, not saying anything unless spoken to. You know, ‘don’t speak unless you are spoken to.’ It was a strict upbringing and I was kept as a child for too long and I suffered from it. My Mum still talks about me like a child to this day, even though I haven’t seen or spoken to her for 5 years. She’s still thinks she can speak for me and have a say in my decisions. Her latest TV interview shows that. Why didn’t my Dad stop it? Why does he let her walk all over him? Why didn’t my parents tell the reporters that we’ve not been in contact for years? Why did my mother use it as an opportunity for a cheap shot at my marriage to Stephanie. It’s all about the ‘appearance’ of things. At trial she came across badly in the dock with her performance, putting on her telephone voice. No wonder the jury didn’t believe her and the prosecution called her a liar.

I found my birth mother a couple of years ago because the curiosity was eating away at me. Well, Stephanie found her after finding my other siblings. They all turned out to be a disappointment, especially my birth mother. After the crap that I went through, I got one poxy letter. No effort whatsoever. My brother and sister revealed their true colours very quickly and I’m not impressed by any of it. They are still checking out forums and web-sites, probably saying they support me. What support? Stalking and spying isn’t support. I needed something tangible.

What is it with families? Why aren’t mine sticking up for me? Where are they? Still attacking Stephanie is probably where, or plotting how to cover their own ar..s. Lets not forget, they knew about the burglary. They spoke to lawyers probably more than I did. The private investigator that was hired to investigate this case wasn’t even told.

It turns out that loads of people knew about this. My family knew and they must have told someone because someone very closely connected to my family told someone else, who told Stephanie. I believe Jamie told his then girlfriend at the time, who just so happened to be my brothers ex girlfriend. Who did she tell? Did Jamie tell anyone else? Did he tell his Mum? Did they work out a story to perhaps prevent prosecution if the need arose? It seems I’m the only one who kept his mouth shut. But why should I keep it shut anymore? So many people had the chance and the opportunity to help me out with this scenario, but none of them did. None of them. Phoebe knew. Did she keep it quiet? I don’t know. What I do know is that no one else spoke to me about it again. So all the people I’ve mentioned must be culpable. Did they agree with my decision? Did they care? It was in all of the case documents, did anyone really look? Or was everyone happy to watch me sit here for over 10 ½ years? Protecting their own ar..s, worrying about how this would affect them and reflect on them. It’s back to appearance again. Well this is on everyone who knew. You are all just as bad as the public believe me to be!

I’ve got previous convictions for GBH and ABH, plus you now know I’ve committed a burglary. Does that really make me a killer? The evidence in this case remains the same. The burglary element has made a few people believe that I’m ‘more guilty’ of the murder. What? It’s either guilty or not guilty. They are no definable measurements of guilt. This is an example of peoples assumptions based on their prejudices. (http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2004/oct/26/ukcrime.immigrationpolicy) It’s wrong. Other people are economical with the truth and exaggerating their responses, like my brother Shaun and Stephanie Bon. I find it hard to believe that my brother didn’t know when everyone else around him did. He does exactly what Mum tells him to do because he’s still tied to her apron strings. As for Stephanie Bon, well she’s nothing but dangerous in my opinion. Look how she has distanced herself from things since the burglary situation arose. For years we’ve been asking her to remove her web-site because it was stagnant and outdated. She wouldn’t because she was too stubborn and too proud of herself. She didn’t work my case for 6 years, more like half of that. We parted company because her and my family were arguing over me like I was their property. I was stuck in the middle, sitting in jail, using drugs, and being given a choice by Stephanie Bon of her or my family…… I chose my family.

You should see the letters I got from both sides, slagging each other off, name calling, put downs, like playground stuff. I was still sitting in jail smoking drugs. That was when the ultimatum came and I thought Stephanie Bon would be a distant memory but as soon as the CCRC referred the case back a couple of years later in 2009, they were hugging each other and congratulating each other. What for? The CCRC appointed the fibre expert whose evidence got the referral. No glory there I’m afraid….

By this time my mother had a new target, my wife. Stephanie Bon jumped right on the bandwagon with her and the witch hunt began. Was that because unlike the previous ultimatum I had chosen my wife over my family? Whatever, the fact is that Stephanie Bon has been out to destroy and damage my wife. I have proof of this. My Mum is too sly for that though and other people do her dirty work for her, like Shaun for example. She’s the expert puppet master, pulling strings and controlling people with her crocodile tears and guilt trips. I’ve had to put up with all of this bullsh*t for so long that I just don’t care for it anymore. I’ve got enough on my plate. I need to support me and my wife because through all of this, we remain strong. We’ve had ups and downs but we are still solid. After all the bullsh*t, all the attempts by my family and Stephanie Bon and everyone else who has tried to damage us, we stand tall. You should all be ashamed of yourselves with your plotting and scheming. You are all disgraceful in my opinion and while you are all playing the victim and trying to appear whiter than white, while everyone judges me and criticises me, you make me sick. People should know that of all of you I am the most sane at the moment. I am strong.

I am a different man to the one you all knew. I am a good man and I did not kill Mrs Albert. So whatever people think my crimes are, I’ve paid for them ten times over!

So when I get out of here, I can move on. Just me and my wife. No fears, no gate arrests for the burglary and having to walk out of prison to go straight back in again for 2 years of recall. Depending of course on how the Crown will play out this farcical situation. Let’s not forget that Keir Starmer QC is head of the CPS.

I’m dealing with issues that effect me, but what will you all do? Who will you gang up on next? Fight amongst yourselves for all I care because I’m done. None of you can damage me anymore. Mud sticks, but I’m throwing it back on you all because you need the tag of shame wrapped around your necks.

I will clear my name one day. If I’m in here or out there when it happens, I will do it! I want none of you at the appeal court. You all blew it. My baggage is getting lighter, the stronger I get. Not because it’s easier to carry but because I’ve got much less to carry as well.

If we refuse to confess past wounds, we condemn ourselves to wounding others or to wronging ourselves.’ ~ Anselm Grün

9th February 2013

To the cowardly author who write to my husband, your letter arrived today.

Thank you for sharing your opinions and showing you narrow mindedness, thank you for confirming to us that you have ‘joined the pack’ and thank you for reminding us that you have very little knowledge.

You appear to be a bit of a nosy parker, so it would follow that you are probably also a curtain twitcher, have you got a neighbourhood watch sticker on your window.

We have noted the post mark and know that the letter was sent from Edinburgh.

The handwriting of the letter looks female but the words and tone are that of man. So for the time being, you could be female or a very effeminate man.

Never the less, you are one of the lucky ones. I have decided to commission a fingerprint expert along with a handwriting expert and fund this myself in order to find out your true identity. This will enable me to give your details to the police & prison security and add your name to the increasing list of nuisance mailers/harassers.

10th February 2013 – Lets make this clear

My admission to the omission of the burglary is not to try to prove that I did not commit murder. A small group of people are asking the same questions and it pi*ses me off that people can be so obtuse. Don’t you think if I could prove that I was at Major’s Corner, Ipswich @ 5.01am, that I would have said something to the police. The police, for some reason, never gave us access to the CCTV and told us there was nothing on it. We are still to see the CCTV and a recent request to Suffolk police for access to it, was denied. Why is that?

Read my words…. My alibi has not changed! I wanted to get things off my chest. Yes, you may not agree with my decision, but you are not me and you were not under the pressure I was under. Nor do you have all the facts of this case.

The fact remains that the ‘window of opportunity’ the police created stays the same and anything that happened before 5.30am (the time Angela Barker said I dropped Jamie home) is irrelevant to this case. Whether Angela Barker is telling the truth, or if she was coerced, or felt her maternal duty was to perhaps cover for her son to prevent prosecution, only she knows.

So heed my words please. If you support me, then support me. Do something to help. Write to your MP, write to Keir Starmer QC at the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS), write to the Queen, write to the CCRC to ask why I am still in prison. Give my wife some support and encouragement, instead of questioning her. Stop getting sucked in by the internet trolls and those people who are clearly attempting to destroy and discredit.

If the Director of Public Prosecutions says they is no reason to think I am guilty and that my conviction appears unsafe, having had access to the case, then there is no debate really is there.

Who is more qualified to come to this conclusion, the DPP or Joe Public?

This is not a case of ‘What do you think?’ It’s about telling people of my situation and telling people about me too. People don’t know me, but they think they can judge me. Whatever….

Simon Hall A767 8AC

HMP Hollesley Bay

25th March 2013 – Post traumatic stress disorder

Post traumatic stress disorder is a natural emotional reaction to a deeply shocking and disturbing experience.

The symptoms are surprisingly common and includes sleep problems, impaired memory, inability to concentrate, hypervigilance (feels like but is not paranoia) exaggerated startle response and hypersensitivity, irritability and violent outburst, joint and muscle pain and feelings of nervousness and anxiety.

I’ve been suffering from PTSD for many many years but not known it. I knew PTSD existed but only thought it applied to soldiers who’d seen or been involved in terrible incidents, or survivors of fatal accidents, or victims of sexual assault or physical attacks of violence.

Over the last near 11 years I’ve been getting worse and not known why. I’ve watched myself, as if having out of body experiences, do things and say things that I would not normally do. I would also not do the things I wanted to do because I couldn’t face doing them, instead choosing to watch tv or play crib with a couple of the lads. I took the path of least resistance because it’s easier to do that both physically and mentally.

Until now…..

Three weeks ago I took an overdose of an anti smoking medication called Zyban. I nearly died and spent 4 days in hospital. During that time I was hallucinating, seeing people with machine guns and shot guns at the window, I was trying to get away. I was anxious nervous and scared.

I remember none of this. I don’t remember the days leading up to the overdose, I don’t remember hospital, I don’t remember the days following my return to prison. I’ve lost almost 2 weeks of my memory. It’s all black.

I don’t know why I tried to take my life. By that I don’t recall the thought processes that lead me to believe it was a good idea to swallow 60 tablets. I must have convinced myself that was better to end it all there and then, but I can’t remember the internal dialogue that sold my own demise to myself.

There are aggravating factors. I was already depressed, chronically so. I was taking anti-depressants for 3 or 4 weeks prior to the OD. I was, as I’ve previously stated suffering PTSD. This is as a result of being wrongfully convicted for a murder I did not commit and I’m sure 95% of those who learn of my case believe I did not commit. The PTSD was made worse by the appeal court judges, who in their ‘infinite wisdom’ ruled that the evidence for the defence presented at the appeal, which proved that the crowns initial evidence at trial was wrong and cast huge doubts on the only evidence for the crown at trial, wouldn’t have made the jury come up with a different verdict. Really?

I was beaten but I was okay and vowed to fight on even though my chance had gone. The appeal ruling destroyed me. The appeal court judges and the smug crown experts, although proven to be incompetent, destroyed me.

I spent nights in Chelmsford prison on the way here from HMP Kingston. On arrival, I found myself in the cell next door to the one I spent time in whilst I was on remand. I had the same view out of the window, the same football pitch (although resurfaced), the same wings, gym, sights, sounds, smells. It gave me flashbacks that seemed so lucid, so real, that it was like I was reliving 10 years ago. I can’t explain how horrible this was. I’ve put this down to post traumatic stress.

Zyban is dangerous medication. I blame that for the exacerbation of my depression and for the obvious psychosis that led me to OD. I’ve spoken to other prisoners about Zyban and they have reported seizures, fits and episodes that were out of character. The health care department have stopped issuing Zyban to prisoners.

I was poorly treated in hospital. I don’t know the details but Stephanie was there nearly all of the time. She told me that I was treated like a second class citizen because I was a prisoner. We intend to complain and take this further in relation to how badly I was treated.

I’m doing much better now. Having an idea about what is wrong with me and looking for the correct support, I’m feeling positive. I’m now more focused than ever to clear my name and once I’ve done that I’m going to sue the authorities for their unbelievable incompetence. I will also be exposing different elements of the services I have had the misfortune to find myself in the ‘care’ of.

Under the circumstances Stephanie and I remain strong. There is light at the end of the tunnel and it grows brighter every day. I’m off all medication and for the first time in a very long time I have greater hopes for the future.

6th April 2013

Yesterday I cut all ties with my family permanently, I hadn’t spoken to them or contacted them for years because of their behaviour, except when Grand-dad passed away and I broke the silence to express my sympathy. My family have been what I like to call baggage, weighing me down and pulling me back, but I’ve dumped the baggage now and I feel so much lighter, both physically and mentally.

For those of you who are not familiar with Stockholm syndrome LINK.

Obviously my family aren’t terrorists but I am a hostage of the state and because my family haven’t done much to help my case, then they have contributed to my continuing incarceration. That’s makes them the same as the state in my eyes in that they can’t really care that I’m in prison for a crime I did not commit. Actions speak louder than words and there was very little action.

Even though I used to feel that I didn’t really belong in the household and was always out of the house as much as I possibly could be, I didn’t have anywhere else to go.

I felt as though my father resented me because I wasn’t his real son, my mother, well where do I start? I could list so many things….. as for my older brother he blew hot and cold but he’s still attached to mothers apron strings at 36 years old.

I used to feel as if I’ve owed my parents for adopting me, it took me years of prison to shake it from my mind. I trusted them emphatically and it was only in recent years that I realised they weren’t actually what I thought they were. I wanted to let them know how I felt about them and cut ties long before now. However, for some reason I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to upset them or hurt them, even though they were still hurting me. I didn’t want to disrespect them even though they were still disrespecting me. I was in conflict and even though I knew I had to cut ties, I couldn’t do it, to my own detriment. I suffered for longer, even though there was no contact because the family were still dealing in misery and trying to be in control, they tried speaking for me when I’d asked them not to and caused other problems, not just for me either, others too. The family ganged up on people, like hyenas and wolves. They always have. They left me with me no choice.

I’ve got my own family now. I can’t look back anymore. I must look to the future because…..

8th July 2013 – Can you help?

CAN YOU HELP?

If you know anything about my case, then you will know that it is an absolute travesty of Justice. My case makes an utter mockery of the legal system but those involved or with the power to change things seem happy to allow it to continue so that justice can be seen to be done, ignorant to the fact that it makes them all look like shameful cowards.

I need your help. I need you to help out my wife Stephanie, who has been struggling financially for a while now, trying to keep up with her bills on the meagre funds she receives and keep up with the ever increasing costs of fighting to clear my name, and proving once and for all that I did not murder Mrs Joan Albert. 

Paper, envelopes, stamps, flyers, printer ink, it all adds up plus what she can sort of for the telephone so we can talk to each other. Stephanie has to run a car so that she can visit because the public transport is non-existent out here in the countryside. She only gets help for 2 visits a month and even that doesn’t cover a quarter of the actual costs.

Stephanie gets 13 pence per mile, today.. The lawyers in my trial eleven years ago received 45 pence per mile. Both from the public purse but obviously the rich barristers, QC’s, Solicitors etc aren’t pushed around and treated as badly as the partner of prisoners.

The whole system is flawed.

If you can help Stephanie, details of how are below…..

 

Thank you 

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