"No hairs from Holly Wells or Jessica Chapman recovered from 5 College Close; no blood from Holly Wells or Jessica Chapman recovered from 5 College Close; no fingerprints from Holly Wells or Jessica Chapman recovered from 5 College Close, save for those on the [portable] box of Celebration chocolates [reference made to that already]; no hairs from either Holly Wells or Jessica Chapman recovered from the Ford Fiesta, no blood from either Holly Wells or Jessica Chapman recovered from the Fiesta; no fingerprints from Holy Wells or Jessica Chapman were recovered from the Fiesta in August 2002" - Formal Admissions by the Prosecution, 1 December 2003
by Joe Vialls
On Monday 1 December 2003, Ian Huntley finally took the stand in Court Number One at the Old Bailey in London. Though he was shaking visibly and kept flicking his tongue around, Huntley managed to answer most of his ‘defense’ counsel’s questions, which seemed to have a great deal in common with those of the prosecution. The court transcripts show defense counsel Mr Coward asking an aggressive series of questions designed only to incriminate Huntley out of his own mouth, so to speak, with not a single question designed to consign this entire pack of fabricated lies to the waste bin.
In brief [because a full analysis will follow after Christmas], Huntley admitted that the two girls were in his house, admitted there was an “accident” in the bathroom during which both girls unfortunately died, and further admitted driving their bodies out to Lakenheath for disposal in a drainage ditch. When asked it he had attempted to remove any of the girls’ clothing either on the way or when he dumped them at Lakenheath, Huntley indignantly retorted “No, not at all”. By his own account he then returned to Soham where he disposed of the two red Manchester United T-shirts in a bin at Soham College. So here we have a man without any red T-shirts in his possession, who nonetheless manages to burn some at Soham College the very same night. It is OK to be puzzled here, because we will return to this point later.
When repeatedly asked if he had returned to the disposal site later on 7 August 2003, Huntley was very firm. No he did not, because he and girlfriend Maxine had gone away to his Nan’s during this period. No, he never returned to the Lakenheath site, which is unfortunate for the prosecution and defense, who already have two distinctly different access points to the disposal site, made on two entirely different days. Obviously it would be better if Huntley admitted both, but unfortunately the Rampton-induced “False memory Syndrome” was too simplistic, with no leeway for sudden changes in the rehearsed story.
While still locked into the same false memory early in the day, Huntley also admitted that he remembered all these details at the time of the deaths in August 2002, had desperately wanted to tell Maxine about what had happened, but did not know how to do so. The entire story was obviously untrue, and forensically impossible, but it was what Huntley had come to believe was the truth. There was no doubting his pathetic sincerity.
The actual truth came later in the day, in a curious exchange that you can rest assured the mainstream media will bury forever, because it provides a startling insight into how Ian Huntley was “handled” at Rampton, and how his real truth was exchanged for a carefully structured set of lies.
During the afternoon for no apparent reason, Coward QC suddenly asked, “Whilst you were at Rampton [a period of time lasting from 21 August to 8 October 2002], what did you remember of the events of the night of the 4th August?” Huntley’s reply was enlightening: “Nothing. I remember that some - I'm not sure if I remembered at Rampton or shortly after arriving at Wood Hill that Holly had a nosebleed, but that is as far as my recollection..”
Remember this point in the proceeding very carefully, because it proves that when not sticking to the carefully rehearsed “False Memory” story earlier in the day, Huntley is still capable of remembering he knew nothing about his alleged “guilt”, until after he was forcibly admitted to the mental institution at Rampton.
Prompted by Coward, Huntley tried to explain further. “I had been trying pretty much everyday to try and remember what had happened on the 4th August. I knew inside that I wasn't there [in Rampton] for no reason and I knew that something must have happened, but didn't know what, I had been seeing all kinds of things, for example, I had seen the girls leaving my house or thought I had seen the girls leaving my house and the psychiatrist said that was a coping mechanism and I was just seeing what I wanted to see. it was driving me mad trying to, trying to remember and nothing coming. (inaudible).”
So here we are at the very beginning of the Rampton-induced False Memory Syndrome. Huntley’s brain is telling him that he “wasn’t there for no reason”, which is a perfectly reasonably thought. After all, how many of us could wake up in a padded cell and automatically assume we were innocent of any misdemeanor?
Then, after liberally drugging him with neuroleptics, the psychiatrists started to tell Huntley that the real truth he could actually remember, i.e. of having done nothing wrong at all, was only a “coping mechanism” protecting him from the “real truth” of his terrible “guilt”. These techniques were used all the time in the Soviet Gulag Archipelago in the sixties, but this time around were being applied to Ian Huntley behind the forbidding walls of a thoroughly British mental institution, on British Government orders.
It is hard to imagine this torment being inflicted on a genuinely perceived “enemy of the State’ academic, let alone a blue-collar caretaker from Soham village in Cambridgeshire. Every time I get emails from self-righteous politically-correct little sods saying, ”Look, you were wrong, Huntley has confessed”, I have a strong urge to throw them over the wall at Rampton ,to see how long they could withstand the combined drug and emotional pressure in Great Britain’s new revised version of the Gulag. Huntley described that terrible pressure to the court:
“I say things started coming back after a few weeks, there wasn't just one day couldn't remember and the next day I could. It was very slow, a bit like a jig-saw puzzle, first of all I started hearing the voice and the voice was, "You pushed her", and thought that I must have pushed her down the stairs or something. It was very difficult to piece things together, and it was also difficult at times to know the difference between reality and imagination. I had problems with imagining things and things I wanted to see, and the way I determined the difference was that the reality - if there was emotion attached to it - you could sort of feel; you could feel what you was feeling at the time.”
And as the days turned into weeks, the crazed shrinks in Rampton quietly plied Ian Huntley with higher and higher does of neuroleptic drugs [remember the unmistakable media symptoms?], and then those same shrinks helped the poor man to “piece things together”. A little bit here and a little bit there, until the real truth of his innocence was overwhelmed and finally crushed completely, by a thick layer of freshly-manufactured psychiatric lies.
Many people have asked me why, if Huntley could be made to confess to “accidentally” killing the girls, he could not be made to plead guilty to murder instead, thereby removing any potentially risky requirement for a high-profile trial at the Old Bailey. The simple answer is that asking Huntley to plead “guilty” to murder would not have worked, because such an admission would have been in direct conflict with his subconscious moral code. This conflict is well known to all clinical psychologists.
Even drugged up to the eyeballs as we now know he was, it is almost inconceivable that Huntley would have agreed to plead guilty to murder, wittingly or otherwise. But getting him to agree that he acted as a guardian angel to the girls [i.e. helping with a nosebleed] would have been relatively easy, with the unfortunate fatal “accident” slowly fed into his memory over extended time, and the shrinks were rapidly given all the extended time they needed by the British Government.
In true Gulag fashion, the shrinks also had another more potent weapon to use against Ian Huntley, in the form of the woman he loved, Maxine Carr, who at that time was being horribly abused in the hellhole called Holloway Prison. No doubt is was pointed out to Huntley, that if he pleaded guilty to the lesser charge of “conspiring to pervert the course of justice” for failing to report Holly and Jessica’s “accident” to police, this in turn would prove his beloved Maxine was innocent of any crime, meaning that she would eventually be set free.
There is a little bit of the “Sir Galahad” in most males, and there are thousands of examples of men being killed by sword, arrow or bullet, as they tried desperately to protect their spouses from harm. Fundamentally, this is what males are born to do, and the chance to “save” his Maxine, would have been as overwhelming for Ian Huntley as for any other man throughout the ages.
All of this activity inside Rampton helps to explain the inexplicable, i.e. how Huntley made the “mistake” of saying that he came straight back from Lakenheath on 4 August 2002 and immediately placed the red Manchester United T-shirts in the bin at Soham College. This can now be understood as a simple lack of communication between those making up the cover story and planting evidence around Soham, and the folk inside Rampton torturing Ian Huntley. The Rampton “False Memory” had to be kept simple, which means that there was no leeway at all for complicated variations like date and venue changes.
The most terrible part of what is happening today, lies not only in the fact that the charade is being allowed to happen, but also that the media pack is baying for Huntley’s blood while the fancy silk-clad peacocks strut their stuff in Number One Court at the Old Bailey. The British media knows full well that Huntley was tortured inside Rampton mental institution, because it was the British media that described his terrible symptoms in their newspapers and magazines. They all have very easy access to books like “Toxic Psychiatry”, and huge research funds to spend, where I have almost none.
The bitter truth is that the British media focus is turned outwards by both proprietors and government, meaning that reporters in London can politely whine about human rights abuses in Camp Delta, Guantanamo Bay, while frantically cheering on the exact same human rights abuse of Ian Huntley, by the British Government in their own country.
Nor do the NGOs give a damn. Months ago I brought this matter to the attention of Amnesty International, the Medical Foundation for Torture Victims, and many other London- based charities that are supposed to care. Not one of them bothered to answer my emails, though all emails were logged as opened at the other end.
I will continue to research this appalling case of medical torture and injustice, and hope to post a long and very full report on the Internet in the fullness of time. However, the sheer volume of documents is now so huge, and the number of people who need to be contacted in England so vast, that this task cannot reasonably be completed until well into the New Year.
In the short term I fully expect the silk-clad peacocks to bang Ian Huntley up for a very long time, one way or the other, and I suspect that Maxine Carr will be “let off” with time served, because she has now fulfilled her government role as Huntley’s “Damsel in Distress.” Now that Huntley has “confessed” in true Gulag fashion, there is no more need for Maxine Carr to be held in custody. No doubt the British Government will gain significant media brownie points by being “merciful” in her case.
And the folk at Rampton? No doubt they will continue to dribble down their shirtfronts, sharpen up their hypodermics, and brace themselves for the Government’s next “difficult case”. Let us all hope fervently that next time around, the “difficult case” is either a Queens Counsel or a member of the British media pack.
Full story...
