Hateland (38 page)

     Love Dave.

     WRITE BACK SOON

Copeland had no remorse. He was enjoying his infamy. I didn't regard him as a terrorist waging war for his beliefs. I suspected his motivation sprung from a more deep-seated and personal source.

     Patsy offered support. She advised him to think through the options. She could see how, with his manslaughter plea, he could stay in a special hospital like Broadmoor where he could be helped over any problems he had. Then, once they deemed him 'cured', he could be released.

     Also, Broadmoor was a hospital, not a prison, so conditions were much better - and there'd be less risk of his being attacked. He'd get through and Patsy would be at his side. Patsy said there wouldn't be much chance of their having a relationship if he got sent to prison.

     Copeland wrote again on 13 March:

Dear Patsy,

How are you and what have you been getting up to thes last few weeks, Anything good on the Internet about me ill be surprised if there isn't

     Anyway some good news know, the doctors here have agreed to let me phone you after all this legal bullshit is over it could be over by the end of march thats if the prosecution agree to acept my plea if not it won't be until June either way its not that long and well be finally able to meet for the first time, its a bit nerve wracking for me as im a shy person so no dout you will be doing most of the talking

     The weather has change hear in the last few days its starting to become summer, I cant stop imageing you wearing all thos tight summer cloths it really turns me on flashing your long legs in the sunshine maybe when you come up to visit you can wear some

     How did I look when my photo was splashed across the papers was I the person you imagined or did I come across as someone different,

     My mums coming up to see me tomorrow, I feel sorry for her as my grandparents as ill and her son is locked up in hear it must be very stressful for her any was thats all for now write back soon, 

   Love Dave. 

He faced a trial at the Old Bailey for triple murder, yet the most nerve-racking event on the horizon was his first meeting with Patsy. It was obvious the bastard had no remorse, but I asked him if he did, although I avoided making him feel guilty about what he'd done.

     When violent misfits like Copeland are made to feel guilt, or to confront their wrongdoing, they tend to react by shouting and lashing out - I know, because that's how I used to react. Copeland needed excuses: nothing could be completely his fault. I played on the fact that what he'd done had had such a distressing effect on his own life.

     On 22 March, he wrote:

Dear Patsy,

     How are you, and what have you been getting up to, Ive just bean reading your last letter and your right I wish I had never though the whole idea up, but its useless living in the past so I must get ready for the future which doesnt look good at all, the only thing I have to look forward to is your letters they really do pick me up,

     Anyway not much has been going on in hear same old crap day in day out all I seam to do is sleep watch telly and read but hopefully soon they let me phone you and that will be something to look forward to,

     It was a sad day the other day one of the patients hear just died he just gave up living, it must be this place getting to him as few days before he seemed quiet well, anyway thats all for know 

   Love Dave.

His tone of disillusionment didn't surprise me. He'd gone to war in the cause of fascism - and now his former comrades in the BNP claimed they wanted to hang him. His actions hadn't had the desired effect. Now that the white race hadn't come forward to thank him, Patsy represented all he had to look forward to.

     I kept him well informed about what was being said on the Internet. I even found some pages about him written in Hungarian. I deduced that the writer sympathised with Copeland from the swastikas decorating the pages. The only words in English read 'Man of the Year'. I didn't download anything from this website: I didn't think Copeland would want me to send him pages he couldn't read. But I did mention the site to him. I also tried to find out more about the patient who'd died. Copeland's expression of sadness at his passing had surprised me. He replied on 29 March:

... I don't like writing why I did what I did because my letters are cencerds but what I can tell you is that I didn't Start out to kill people that was a product of what I was trying to achieve . . . Please send me anything about me on the internet especially that stuff from Hungary even thou its written in hungarian . . . Weve been writing to one and another for nearly a year know but it seems ive known you all my life is it the same for you . . .

In fact, I did feel like I'd known Copeland all my life, because most of the people I'd known were violent nuts just like him.

     Before I had a chance to reply, another letter arrived a few days later. He'd written it on April Fool's Day:

Dear Patsy,

     How are you doing, and what have you been getting up to since the last time you sent your letter, Nothing much has been going on hear so this will be just a short letter Tell you the truth im not very good at writing letters, looks like ill be going to trial on the 5, June 2000, it won't be a proper Trial it will just be a bunch of Quaks (DOCTORS) giving there opions, so it will be very boring, Why don't you come along and sit in the Gallery, I will be looking out for you if you decide to do so, If you do don't tell anyone why you're there, You could get lynched, on a brighter note its only 2 moths away from my trial so I will be able to phone you and get to know you better, thats all for now 

   Love Dave.

His impending trial didn't appear to bother him. He seemed to look on it as an inconvenience he wanted out of the way. He'd obviously resigned himself to the fact that, even with a successful insanity plea, he wouldn't be leaving his cell for a very long time.

     He wrote again on 4 April:

. . . this place isn't as bad as I make it sound I got a few good friends but they will be moving on soon, I get a visit of my mum, dad and brother once a week, I must be lucky to have a family that will stand by me in this time of trouble, Soon as my trial is done and dusted am going to do a few courses in chemistry and physics and maybe History . . .

I doubted whether his custodians would allow him his courses in physics and chemistry Copeland still hadn't talked about the patient who'd died. I was intrigued to find out why the death had seemed to trigger sadness in a murderer who'd shown no remorse for his victims.

     He replied on 10 April, '. . . that patient that died wasn't a friend of mine I was quit pleased as he was a child molester . . .'

     Having realised he wouldn't talk about his crimes, and learning of his insanity plea, the mundane became paramount. Many 'insane' criminals claim they have blackouts and so forth. So every detail they recall can help indicate their sanity. I asked him to write about his childhood. Did he have a favourite age and memory?

     On 18 April, he wrote:

. . . You asked me what was my favourite age it must be 14- 15 years thats when your starting to become an adult but your still a kid and you can get away with stuff as your still a child I couldnt say what was my favorite memory ive had so many but it looks like I wont be getting any moor while being locked up in hear o'well thats life im affraid so many people live such boring lives getting up for work every day dieing with no one to miss them thats not the life for me ... I dred to think what they will say about me after my trial has ended, all those lies and half truths, You said in your last letter that you though you were getting old, im 24 in a few weeks and I know how you feel. . .

His desperate keenness to know what people said about him fascinated me. What most worried him about the future was the 'lies and half truths' people might tell about him. He feared the truth about him would emerge. I guessed 'the truth' about him would be unsavoury and he wanted to prepare Patsy for a shock.

     I made her reassure him she'd only believe what he told her himself. On 1 May, he replied:

. . . My trial is coming up in a few weeks, not looking forward to it, I'll just be looking forward to getting it over and done with,

     I spend most of time day dreaming about what could of been, I believe in destony and I believe that one way or another we would of met up sooner or later . . .

The trial was drawing near and I wanted to get as much out of him as possible. He'd entered stage three of his incarceration - the realisation he was fucked. This deflated him and his ego, so I had to write more often.

     He wrote again on 6 May:

...on an brighter note things are not looking to bad for my trial I could if im lucky get diminished responsibility and then it will be up to the doctors when im released, but that wont be for a long time, how are things with you, are you enjoying the weather, anyway thats all for know write back soon

     Love Dave.

Shortly after that letter arrived - less than a month before his trial - I got a call on my mobile. Someone claiming to be a detective with Scotland Yard's Anti-Terrorist Branch said he was standing at my front door. He wanted to speak to me. I'd been warned by Adolf that the police were rounding up Nazis and ex-Nazis in the wake of Copeland's bombings. I feared they'd now come for me. I drove home immediately. Two plain-clothes officers stood outside my home. They flashed their ID cards and asked if we could talk inside. Once inside, I offered them a seat, but remained standing myself.

     One of them said, 'We've been monitoring your correspondence with David Copeland. Do you want to tell us about it?'

     I explained the hoax and how I'd previously used the same ruse to extract the truth from two child-killers. They asked to see the letters. I produced my thick file, and they read through everything. They said the letters could be of great use to the prosecution in the light of Copeland's plan to plead insanity. They asked me to make a statement, which I did. Then they told me to stop writing to Copeland immediately, because I might be called as a witness. They took the letters away as possible evidence.

     The trial began at the Old Bailey on 5 June 2000. I didn't take great pleasure in imagining Copeland's feelings when he discovered that 20-year-old blonde/brunette secretary Patsy was in fact 40-year-old balding ex-bouncer Bernard. I hoped I wouldn't be called as a witness. I knew my appearance would only make everything a bit more painful and embarrassing for Copeland, and I didn't relish the idea. The person Copeland thought he loved would already have been taken from him - though perhaps not in quite as cruel a way as he'd taken other people's loved ones from them.

     A few days into the trial, I was told that, although I probably wouldn't be called as a witness, the prosecution did intend using the 'Patsy Scanlon' letters. I followed closely the news reports of the proceedings, waiting for the moment when Copeland would finally be made aware of the dreadful truth about Patsy.

     That moment came on the tenth day of the trial: Monday 19 June. The prosecution barrister Nigel Sweeney introduced the 'Patsy Scanlon' letters during his cross-examination of a defence psychiatrist. Mr Sweeney said that, while in custody, Copeland had been in correspondence with a 'Ms Patricia Scanlon'. Moreover, the letters showed he'd fallen in love with this woman. Unfortunately for Copeland, said the prosecutor, 'Ms Scanlon' was not a woman at all. She was in fact a man with a criminal record and other aliases. Sniggers filled the court. In the dock, Copeland inhaled deeply - and bowed his head dramatically. Some people thought he might slump to the floor.

     Until that point, he'd shown no emotion. In the face of descriptions of the carnage he'd caused, he'd remained unmoved. Neither stories of the lives he'd blown apart, nor the amputees haunting the gallery had provoked any response from him. Only now did the Aryan soldier crumple in shame.

     The judge described my deception as 'shabby'. I'd encountered such responses before, often from journalists who'd approve of putting hidden cameras in people's houses to catch dodgy plumbers. Prosecutor Nigel Sweeney spoke of a 'low trick'. However, low as it was, he stooped down to pick it up. He read out long extracts from the letters, then asked a simple question of a defence psychiatrist: 'Where, in all these letters, is there any sign of mental illness?'

     The psychiatrist - one of five for the defence - admitted he could see no such sign. He suggested perhaps Copeland hadn't wanted to appear mad to his girlfriend. Another defence psychiatrist said Copeland had grandiose delusions, arrogance and a certainty he was right, whereas the ordinary far-right activist would recognise another viewpoint. I doubted whether the psychiatrist had ever met Adolf.

     The prosecutor said the letters clearly showed Copeland had set out to fool doctors by faking mental illness. Dr Philip Joseph, a consultant at St Mary's Hospital in west London, supported this view. He told the court he'd read the whole correspondence. He criticised the five defence psychiatrists for using what Copeland had told them as almost their sole basis for concluding he was mentally ill. He said the 'Patsy Scanlon' letters made him sceptical of everything Copeland had said. For Dr Joseph, Copeland had been suffering from a personality disorder which did not amount to mental illness. He'd retained sufficient choice, will-power and ability to enable him to decide whether to carry out the bombings. So, whatever weird compulsions had driven him, they hadn't in legal terms impaired his judgement. Copeland's responsibility had not been diminished. In short, he was bad, not mad. The jury could find him guilty of murder, not manslaughter.