The Probation service part 9

Febuary 2010.

Danielle Buckley had finally decided to give me, that which everybody else had already been given ; even the low life cretins, the scum, the thieves, burglars, repeat offenders and the animals who do things to kids, had already had; a move on plan.

The job of a probation officer, or “offender manager” as we must now call them, is to prevent re-offending and re-integrate an offender back into society. Danielle Buckley, as you may have read in previous chapters, had been nothing short of evil, vindictive and well, a liar throughout my time in prison because she couldn't get her own way. She couldn't bully me or threaten me enough to force me into pleading guilty to something I hadn't done and therefore go on a sex offenders treatment programme and thus get her ticks in the book.

I was informed by the hostel staff that prior to moving on, I must have had at least two sanctioned home leaves at an approved premises. Do I need to bore you further by saying yet again Danielle Buckley had not bothered to inform me of that? Why not. I arranged with my brother to stay with him for the foreseeable future until I knew what was going to happen next. Buckley and the police attended the house and ok'd it. I was then allowed to go “home” over night.

Home had lost its meaning for me, The last place I called home, had been searched by the police way back in April 2007. It stopped being a home from that moment and was later to referred to as “that place that thing happened”. I was subsequently imprisoned for 10 and a half months moving from cell to cell, wing to wing, prison to prison and finally, the hostel. The idea therefore that I could spend my first night in almost a year away from police, probation, wrong-uns and scum was, I'm not even sure I can convey how good it felt. I got the usual supportive message from Buckley; “No children under 18 in your house”, “you must be back by 9 am or be recalled” etcetera. My brother collected me from the hostel and upon arrival at his house, I felt free for the first time in a long time. It is a night I will remember for the rest of my life.

My brother was putting himself out for me in a big way. Not only would his life be interrupted by me being there, not only would it be interrupted by Greater Manchester polices finest, but also by the Verita-phobial one. (Buckley). There was also the prospect of the morons who believe everything they read in the newspapers, attacking the house or me or my brother. I asked if he was sure and explained to him all the possibilities, to which he replied “you're my brother”.

Of course there was no vigilantes, no graffiti on my house, no attacks, nothing. My address was printed in every paper after conviction, not the exact number, but that wouldn't have taken long to find. Nobody came round, not a bad word has ever been said against me or about me by anybody I know. It is a strange concept. When my picture was plastered all over the front of the Bury Times, our local paper, I sat and waited, and waited and waited for the windows to go through, something. From the very day this all started to now, all I have ever heard is “Not a chance”, “Kj? No way” “its absolute rubbish” “ Its an outrage this has happened to you”. That was from people I had never even met, and people who knew me well enough to know its rubbish. Even in prison, nobody said a bad word about me, even when they discovered I used to be in the police. I have never met anybody in almost 4 years who has said; “Yeah, well I always thought he was a bad-un” That to me is such a good feeling. Knowing that you are innocent is one thing, knowing everybody else who knows you, believes in you, supports you and can see the truth, is something I cannot even describe to you, simply amazing.

N.B the “truth”;

The quality or state of being true: "the truth of her accusation".

That which is true or in accordance with fact or reality: "tell me the truth".

For Buckley, Gmp et al. Who have no idea what the word means, I digress.

That is of course in contrast with the probation service who cannot work out such concepts.

My brother cooked me tea, we sat and chatted, I had a beer and cognac and we watched some TV then I went to bed. It was the best nights sleep I had had for what seemed like forever. I could close my eyes and not think about all the things that could happen. There were no visits from the police, nothing. I had a further two home visits which were for two nights each and both were as good.

The 26^th of February 2010. My last night in the hostel. I couldn't sleep. I had packed everything up that I could. My room was filled with bags and boxes ready to go in the morning. I was so excited about what I thought was finally freedom. The 27^th arrived. My brother came and collected me and I signed out of the hostel for the last time. As we were leaving the car park of the hostel, I felt a sense of calm wash over me, all the things that I dreaded every minute of every day, was now gone. These bad people weren't going to hurt me. Danielle Buckley explained that I must now have visits at home on a regular basis and attend the Probation office in Bury every single week for a meeting with her.

I couldn't understand what for, had she not already done enough? Had she not already tried everything she could to get her own way? Apparently not. Buckley explained that they were mandatory and they were to “check on my progress” and to “keep me monitored”. Excellent.

Buckley explained that I was not allowed anybody in the meeting with me and absolutely no legal representation. We were back to the solicitor argument. I was being forced to spend time in a room on my own, with a devious, deceptive, vindictive liar who could be damaging to me and have me recalled at an instant, without anybody to back me up or prove what I was saying was the truth. (refer to earlier definition of the truth) I was naturally delighted therefore, about the idea.

My first appointment with Buckley in Bury arrived, I was taken there by my mother and mother in law who insisted on at least escorting me there and being with me to show support against Buckley.

I entered the room and sat opposite her on a chair. The entire time I never made eye contact with her, and never once looked up from the floor or the wall. This was by design on two fronts;

1. Buckley couldn't make up an allegation that I had somehow intimidated her or tried to be “controlling” or looked at her in a funny way, or worse looked at her in a sexual manner. Some of you may laugh at what seems like paranoia, but having seen how this woman had behaved thus far, and what she was capable of, for example lying without blinking and being fully supported by the probation service, I had to take every precaution. If, for arguments sake Buckley had indeed conjured up an allegation, I would be arrested, on licence from prison having being convicted within the last 12 months of a sexual offence, who do you think the court would believe? Not so funny any more? I could not have found it more serious if I tried.

2. I had absolutely no respect for the woman, I refused to even dignify her with an acknowledgement of her being there.

The meeting commenced; (B=Buckley K=me)

B “Hi Kristian, I hope you are ok, and that you are settled now you have moved out of the hostel. We are going to discuss your offence over the next few weeks and address your offending behaviour.”

There was almost an air of niceness about her. Buckley went on to explain that I must attend every week, there would be home visits. The usual stuff.

B “Who is that sat outside?” Buckley had seen my mother and mother in law sat in the waiting area as she left the office

K “My mother and mother in law”

B “Why are they here?”

My first thought was, what has that got to do with you? Are they on probation too?

K “They are here for me”

I thought it odd that she would be so interested in my family. Little did I know at that point she was working with Barnard and the Social services to dig for information.

B “and how is your wife and son?”

K “ I have no idea, I'm not allowed to see my son”

B “You must surely have contact with them, where are they?”

K “I have no idea, and I don't want to discuss my family with you”

B “You have to answer my questions or you could be seen to not be co-operating with your offender manager”

There it was, the devious Buckley was back, and not getting her own way so resorting to threats. My licence conditions do not in anyway say I must talk to my offender manager, they say only I must attend appointments and address my offending behaviour. It certainly does not state that I must discuss with Danielle Buckley my private life.

K “Can you show me where it says I must discuss my family with you? Firstly I will not discuss my family with you or anybody else. Secondly I am here, as you said, to discuss my offence. As there was no offence and I am innocent, there is nothing to discuss. Finally by asking questions about my family, you are violating their right to a free and private life.”

Buckley was visibly annoyed that I had dared to not only answer her back, but dared to question her authority. Naturally I should be taken outside and shot without breakfast for such a crime. Buckley couldn't answer that one. Here is the problem; Every single day they deal with the same scum day in day out, liars and thieves, animals and monsters. They are, I imagine fairly straightforward, they are actually guilty and therefore can have nice fluffy talks and meetings and “interventions”. The ones who kick off and swear and are generally rude and abusive or have no intention to change, can be recalled. Problem sorted. When you are innocent, and have by far, more intelligence than they could ever have, you are impossible to deal with. You ask questions, you know the law and they don't, you are perfectly calm, pleasant and law abiding. There is nothing they can do to you. They can't break you down, they cant threaten you, they cant recall you, they physically have to sit and discuss things with you. Of course when you have nothing to discuss as you have done nothing wrong and are aware of what you do have to tell them and what you do not, control freaks like Buckley must find that fairly irritating.

The meeting lasted just short of an hour, with Buckley trying to find out on information about my wife and son to pass onto Barnard and the social services.

It was discovered that Barnard was still involved in my “case” after Buckley stated that as I was still being MAPP managed, she must provide updates and details to all the organisations involved. This included GMP, the Social services, doctors, the Probation service and others. What is interesting, if that is the right word, is that once a police officer charges somebody, their role is finished. They do not have any further input into what happens as this is down to the courts. The Sex Offender Management Unit or SOMU were actively involved in my case, as is their job to be. A freedom of information request in 2009 revealed that not only had Barnard blocked my early release from prison in July 2009 but he was still, 3 years after charging me, heavily involved with my case, and with Buckley. Ask yourselves why that is?. I'm sure I don't have to remind you, but Barnard was an officer in the “Professional standards department” of GMP, or internal affairs. His only job is to deal with Police officers and as I stopped being one of those in 2008,It seemed very odd that he was on the MAPP panel.

We contacted John Brimley who was at the time, the head of probation at Bury, A copy of this letter can be found HERE. It goes without saying we got no response.

After I left the meeting, both my mother in law and mother noted that I had been in for almost an hour, during which time an abundance of people had been in and out within ten minutes with their respective offender managers. I thought it was an odd thing to note at first but it would soon become a problem.

In part ten, home visits, recorded meetings, and a change in Buckley......... Good or bad? I will let you guess.