Essex Boys, The New Generation (33 page)

‘When I first got to know Jason, he was boasting about how much cannabis he smoked and how desperate he was for some. I bought him £5 worth off a friend and gave it to him. He made a really crap spliff and, after lighting it, inhaled. After a second or two his face went off-white, then red, then green. He stood up and dashed to the bathroom, where he kept throwing up in the toilet. He’s such an idiot. I couldn’t stop laughing. Jason hardly left my side for the few weeks that I was in a relationship with him; he was really clingy and always following me around. I thought he had only met Boshell the day he had died, but he has told the police that he had known him for a week or two. If they had met earlier and had discussed committing a crime, or if Boshell had ever shown him a gun, as Jason claims, I would bet my life that he would have told me about it. He didn’t.

‘Jason was the ultimate wannabe gangster. He loved talking himself up and wouldn’t have been able to keep his mouth shut if he had seen a real gun or was planning to commit a crime. When I first saw Boshell, I thought he had messed his trousers because he was walking with his legs apart. I asked him what was wrong and he said, “I’ve just come out of hospital. I’ve got lots of bruises, don’t worry about it.” I got the impression he was too embarrassed to talk about whatever had happened to him. Whatever it was, he had been hurt bad. Everywhere I went that day, Boshell and Jason followed me. Boshell was being really weird, he was racing around the flat like he was on something. I genuinely thought he was some sort of lunatic. He was pacing up and down and appeared extremely agitated. He was saying that he needed dark clothing because he was going to do a job. He kept saying, “I’ve got a job on, I’ve got a job on.” My brother, CJ, was with me and when I looked over at him, we both said in unison, “Curly, whirly cuckoo”, which is a saying we’ve used since we were kids. It means that the person we are referring to is a nutter.

‘I’ll never forget Boshell saying, “They won’t see me coming tonight if I have dark clothing. They won’t see me coming.” I remember him saying that because when I heard that he was dead my first thought was: “You were wrong, they did see you coming.”

‘Whatever happened to him that night and whoever did it, make no mistake, Dean Boshell knew that it was coming. He was acting so strange. I kept looking at CJ and mouthing, “Oh my God, who is this fucking lunatic?” When Boshell went to the toilet, I said to CJ, “You’re not going to do anything with him, are you?” He replied, “No, no way.” When he came out of the toilet, he asked CJ if he could borrow his phone. CJ looked at me as if to say, bloody cheek, but I indicated that he should let him have it so he would ring whoever he had to ring and hopefully leave.

‘Boshell knew the number he wanted to ring off the top of his head. He didn’t get a phone out of his pocket to look for a number, he just tapped it in and then walked out onto the balcony to speak to whoever it was, out of earshot. Looking back on that night, I’m not sure Boshell even had a phone on him. CJ thought Boshell was going to steal his because he said to me, “If he nicks that, I will fucking kill him.”

‘When Boshell had finished his conversation and came back into the room, he looked even more agitated. He said, “If my brother calls me back, will you give me the phone?” Boshell continued to act weird. He was really on edge. He asked me and CJ where we were from, and we replied Leigh-on-Sea. As soon as we said that, Boshell went into the toilet. I asked Jason where Boshell was from and he said that he was also from Leigh-on-Sea. CJ and I were saying, “No way is he from Leigh. He would know Ricky Percival, Ronnie Tretton and all that lot, if he was.” Ronnie had been in the newspapers after doing something really stupid around that time and we began talking about him. We said that Ronnie was like a younger version of Ricky Percival, meaning he had a bit of a reputation and took no shit off people.

‘That evening is the only time Ricky Percival’s name was ever mentioned in Jason’s company. Because we were saying Percival was hard and stuff like that, Jason obviously remembered his name and told the police later that it was Percival threatening him. It just shows what a fantasist he is. Jason’s story about him receiving threatening phone calls the following morning is complete and utter rubbish. I was sleeping with him at that time and he wouldn’t get out of bed to sign on the dole, never mind answer the phone. He’s just a nobody who desperately wants to be thought of as a somebody. If he had received threatening calls, the whole of Southend would have heard about it by lunchtime. It would have made his day; he would finally have become the big villain he always wanted to be.

‘I genuinely cannot believe that the police or anybody else, for that matter, would consider using Jason Spendiff-Smith as a witness and expect him to tell the truth. He lives in a world of his own that he has created to promote himself as something he is not.

‘My relationship with Jason wasn’t serious. It was just a casual fling. I cannot even remember how we finished. I think I just left him at my friend’s flat one day and she kicked him out. I would have had no objections to giving evidence in court, but nobody contacted me. I find that very strange because I know that Jason was lying about the threatening phone calls. It’s shocking that a man has been sent to prison for life on Jason Spendiff-Smith’s say-so.’

The Time of Death

Despite his absence from Chelmsford Crown Court, Gordon Osborne’s evidence was probably the most crucial independent evidence produced in the murder trial that the jury was asked to consider. A police memo written by Detective Chief Superintendent Reynolds describes Osborne’s evidence as being ‘particularly important, given his army background’. Without Osborne’s evidence being heard, the prosecution would have struggled and probably floundered in proving their case. Had the jury accepted Hansel Andrayas’s evidence over Osborne’s, Ricky Percival would not have been charged with Boshell’s murder.

Andrayas said that she had heard significant noises around 2 a.m. Not only had she heard them but they had also awoken her daughter. Percival had parted company with Alvin long before this time and was sleeping soundly in his own bed. Unfortunately, Osborne’s time as a Royal Marine and his boasts about his knowledge of firearms had convinced the jury that such a man couldn’t possibly be wrong.

Reading the seven pages’ worth of Osborne’s previous convictions, alarm bells regarding his credibility and his reluctance to return to the UK should have been ringing in the ears of everybody connected with the case. Despite the significant changes made by Osborne in his statements and knowing that he was a fugitive from this country, no one delved further into his background. Simply by contacting the Royal Marines I have discovered that despite signing a declaration on each of the statements he made – ‘I shall be liable to prosecution if I have wilfully stated anything which I know to be false or do not believe to be true’ – Gordon Osborne deliberately lied.

When he was visited by the police on the first occasion, Osborne had told them, ‘Half of me thinks that I may have heard a bang, but I couldn’t be sure. I don’t know what time I may have heard this bang, but it was possibly between 11 p.m. and 11.30 p.m.’

Three and a half months later, Osborne suddenly had vivid memories of the night Boshell died. He told the police that at about 11 p.m. he was awoken by the sound of ‘two or three gunshots, coming from the direction of the allotments. My bedroom window is always open and I got up to look out of the window towards the allotments but could not see anything, as it was pitch-black. I can say from my experience in the Armed Forces that the shots I heard were from a handgun and not a shotgun.’

Four and a half years later, Osborne’s memory had continued to improve. When the police visited him in his new home in Spain, he told them: ‘I woke up about 11 p.m. that evening. I had heard two or three gunshots coming from the allotment. I can’t be more specific about the time, but I had a digital alarm clock by the bed, which I did look at. I immediately recognised the sounds as coming from a handgun. This type of weapon has a distinctive sound, totally different to a shotgun or rifle. I have had experience of firearms since I was 11 years of age, when I shot rifles with the Sea Cadets. I remained in the Cadets until the age of 16. At the age of 17, I joined the Royal Marines, staying with them for 18 months. I had training on the Browning 9 mm semi-automatic pistol, self-loading rifles, Lee Enfield Rifles, American M16 rifles, German Mausers and Lugers. Since leaving the Marines, I have not had any dealings with firearms, but like riding a bike you never forget what you have learned and the sound each weapon makes.

‘I can’t say how far away these shots were, all I can say is that the sounds definitely came from the back of my house.’

The reason I say Osborne deliberately lied is simple: he has never been in the Royal Marines. He has never undergone the weapons training that he boasted about and therefore his claim that he can distinguish the sounds of these various weapons being fired is also a lie.

Acting Steward Gordon Osborne, service number P100762, enlisted in the Royal Navy on 30 January 1967. He was discharged less than five months later on 24 June 1967 because he was deemed to be ‘unsuitable’. According to the Royal Navy, as an Acting Steward Osborne’s duties would have been providing hospitality services and learning ‘core skills in the hotel trade’ aboard ship. If Acting Stewards are on board a ship during military conflict, they are responsible for the upkeep of the officers’ accommodation and dining areas, where they hone their skills in the hotel services area so that the officers can concentrate on the military task in hand.

Rather than being trained in using an arsenal of different weapons, the Royal Navy have informed me that Acting Stewards, of which Osborne briefly was, ‘are specially trained to carry out a range of hospitality tasks, including the organisation, preparation, serving and accounting for food and drink of all kind’. In short, Gordon Osborne was a waiter or porter who had failed to make the grade.

I have stated on more than one occasion in this book that I do not know if Ricky Percival is guilty or innocent. After reading this, who can honestly say that they disagree? I did not write this book just for Ricky Percival’s benefit. I believe that the Tretton family, Jenny Dickinson, the manager of the Wickford snooker club and last, but by no means least, Beverley Boshell deserve to know the truth. Beverley has already endured one traumatic hoax.

When Alvin appeared in court to stand trial for her son’s murder, she prepared herself to face the man police said was his killer. Eleven months later, Beverley was back in court and being asked to believe that Percival had murdered her son. What will Beverley face after yet another trial, featuring not only Percival but also a whole host of previously unheard witnesses? There must be another trial – no civilised society would permit a young man to spend 28 years in a prison cell based on the evidence of some of the witnesses who did and did not testify against Percival.

Epilogue

  ALVIN’S
COUP DE GRÂCE  

Apart from Damon Alvin and a
handful of Essex police officers, there were few smiling faces at the conclusion of Percival’s trial. Mrs Boshell walked out of Chelmsford Crown Court still unsure about who had taken her son’s life and why. Percival and Walsh were taken to prison and Griffiths went home to try to rebuild her life. Percival’s parents were left to face up to the reality that their youngest son may never be freed in their lifetimes.

Damon Alvin and his family ceased to exist. They were given new identities and disappeared into the witness-protection programme to begin a new life. Nobody thought for one moment that Alvin would ever surface again. All he had to do was attend court after the Christmas holiday and be sentenced for the numerous crimes that he had admitted to carrying out. Despite assurances by the police that his assistance in clearing up so many serious crimes would undoubtedly be rewarded by the sentencing judge, Alvin was not so sure. A 50 per cent discount on a twenty-year prison sentence might sound good, but the prospect of serving ten years is only marginally more appealing. Alvin knew from past experience that he would have to ensure that the judge would be left in no doubt about his regret and desire to make good in the future if he was to earn maximum credit. One would assume that Alvin had no more cards with which to play his games, but he could always be relied upon to come up with a solution when his liberty was under threat. Before Percival’s trial had even ended, he was already planning his next move.

Alvin had sat down and penned a letter to Beverley Boshell, the lady whose life he had already made a misery. When finished, Alvin’s letter mirrored the speech that he had read out to the judge prior to his being sentenced for possessing the kilo of cocaine. It was full of woe, promises of an industrious future and insincere remorse. Alvin wrote:

Dear Mr and Mrs Boshell,

I will start by saying that I will understand if you don’t want to read this letter, but I hope you will understand why I had to write it. Sorry is a word easily used by many but truly meant by a few. I hope that you can believe that I am one of these few. I am truly sorry for everything that’s happened and for what I’ve put you and your family through. I know how strongly you must feel towards me because I know how I feel about myself – hate and ashamed are just some of the words I would use.

I first met Dean in Chelmsford prison in 1998 and we struck up a friendship and would often clown about to pass the time away. I had a lot of time for Dean, he could be very humorous. For the two years that I knew Dean, we got on very well and we never once fell out. He never had a bad word to say about anyone and he was keen to be helpful. He helped me more in the two years that I had known him than any of my other friends had in all the years I had known them. Dean would often talk about his family and he had told me that there had been bad times for you all, but it was clear that his family was a big part of his life. It was clear that he felt lost and guilty at times because of his past behaviour. It was obvious that he was desperate to meet somebody and settle down. He was always keen to make new friends and would often surprise me with the different girls he would meet. Unfortunately, it was me and my friends that he came to befriend and become close to.

As you may be already aware, the three of us met up on the night of Dean’s death to commit a somewhat simple theft of cannabis from a barn in which nobody needed to get hurt. I am in no way trying to justify this crime. I just want you to know that I didn’t expect Dean to come to any harm that night. I can swear to you that had I had any inclination that he would be harmed, then I would have done everything I possibly could to prevent it happening.

On 27 February 2001, you lost a son and I lost a ‘friend’, if that’s a word I’m allowed to use. I use it lightly because a true friend wouldn’t have done what I did. I feel that I am as much to blame for his death as the person who pulled the trigger because I lied to protect him and myself and it was because of me that Dean was there that night, and this is something I will have to live with as well as the memories of what happened.

Not a day passes when I don’t think of Dean. There are reasons for my continued lying for that three-and-a-half-year period, but these are simply reasons and in no way excuses. There is no excuse for continuing this nightmare and denying you the truth and justice a family rightfully deserves. I can’t begin to imagine how much upset and pain we have put your family through and I pray that I never have to find out. I wish I could, but I can’t change what happened to your son, but I hope that I can help you get justice.

The past six years have been my hardest and saddest. That night changed many people’s lives and continues to do so. My decision to come clean has split me and my brothers, devastating my parents, as well as my wife’s family. At times I wonder if there will ever be an end to the upset that’s been caused, but I have to acknowledge that at least I do still have a life to live. Only now do I truly realise how my actions and criminal ways devastate people’s lives and hurt the people who least deserve it: the innocent.

I have led a life of crime since a young age and some of it has involved violence, but I’m taking this opportunity to confess to all the criminal offences that I’ve been involved in. I expect to receive a lengthy prison sentence for them and accept this. I want to assure you that when I am finally released I will take this second chance being given to me to live a law-abiding life. I don’t ever again want to be involved in the pain families and friends suffer because of the consequences of crime. I don’t know what I expected to achieve by writing this letter but I felt it was necessary and the right thing to do. I don’t seek forgiveness, as I don’t believe that I could give it if I was in your situation. I just wanted to apologise from the bottom of my heart and tell you how sorry I am for your loss. I hope this trial will bring closure for the both of you and your families.

Yours sincerely,

Damon Alvin

When Alvin appeared at Woolwich Crown Court to be sentenced, Judge Christopher Ball QC, who had presided over both Alvin’s and Percival’s murder trials, was reminded of not only Alvin’s cooperation with the police but also ‘the genuine remorse that he had expressed to those his crimes had affected’. Before passing sentence on Alvin, the judge told him, ‘You took an extraordinary step in confessing what you had done over many years. It is in the public interest that what you have done should be recognised, as a very dangerous offender has been convicted. The public is now safer for what you have done.’

In total, Alvin was sentenced to 24 years’ imprisonment for an orgy of violence that had ruined the lives of numerous people over many years in Essex. Standing in the dock, Alvin barely flinched whilst the sentences were read out. He wasn’t concerned because he knew he had not yet been rewarded for the assistance he had given the police.

Finally, his payday arrived. The judge told Alvin that each sentence he had been given was only a third of what he would normally have received and all the sentences would be served concurrently. In his view, he said, Alvin should be considered for early release after 50 per cent of time served. The longest term of imprisonment handed down to Alvin had been five years. Because all his sentences were to run concurrently, this meant five years was the longest time that he could serve. With a 50 per cent discount, that sentence was further reduced to two years and six months. After deducting the two years and three months that he had already spent in and out of custody, Alvin was left with just twelve more weeks to serve.

After Alvin had been sentenced, the letter he had written to Mrs Boshell was hand-delivered to her by Essex police. They told her that if she wished to reply, a sealed letter would have to be hand-delivered to him by them. For security reasons, they were unable to give Beverley his address to reply to directly.

I have my own thoughts as to why Alvin might have wanted to write to Mrs Boshell and I did wonder if she would agree with them. When I visited her home, I took the opportunity to ask her what she had thought when Alvin’s letter had arrived. With a look of total disgust on her face, she almost spat out her reply.

‘Load of crap – they are the first words that entered my head after reading Alvin’s pathetic letter. If it was his intention to make me feel better about what had happened, then he failed miserably. If anything, it made me feel more hateful towards him. Alvin isn’t worried about how I feel. It’s obvious that he wrote that letter to show it to the judge before he was sentenced. That’s why the judge commended him for the remorse he pretended to show. It’s sick, bloody sick.

‘Alvin’s now just trying to make himself feel better about Dean’s death. This is the so-called man who transformed his prison cell into a makeshift crime scene investigation office where he rehearsed his lines. Why would anybody wanting to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth need to do that? Alvin had also planned to insult my son’s memory by claiming he was some sort of paedophile who had been murdered by a fictitious victim’s family.

‘In court, Alvin claimed that Dean was the only friend he had who would ring him up and go out socially with him. If Alvin truly believes that Dean was his best friend, I really wouldn’t want to be his enemy. This is the same person who arranged for a wreath to be stolen from a grave and caused God knows how much upset to grieving loved ones. Alvin did this so that he could send it to his wife and “prove” to a judge that he was being threatened in the hope he would get a reduced sentence. It’s apparent that Damon Alvin is only worried about one thing: Damon bloody Alvin.

‘In the letter, Alvin talks about not being able to tell the police who had murdered my son for various reasons, but he fails to give one. The 12-week sentence Alvin had to serve was, in my opinion, diabolical. He pleaded guilty to conspiracy to pervert the course of justice, burglary, conspiracy to steal, possession of a firearm with the intent to commit an indictable offence and two counts of causing grievous bodily harm, and yet he was released just a few weeks later.

‘The judge told Alvin that he hoped other criminals would follow his example and come forward to inform on their associates. It would make me and a lot of other people happier in Essex if the police stopped using the soft option of employing supergrasses to convict people. More often than not they are no better than the scum they are giving evidence against, yet they are treated like pillars of society.

‘What happened to all the evidence the police had when they first charged Alvin with Dean’s murder? I take it they discarded it when he agreed to blame Percival. That’s not justice, because I have been deprived of knowing what really happened to my son and why. I honestly do not believe Alvin’s versions of events and I also believe the police and the prosecution do not either.

‘During the trial, they didn’t question him about sensitive matters, such as what happened to the gun used to shoot Dean. Why would Percival lure a man to an area surrounded by houses, including his own, to commit a murder? Why would Percival, a reasonably streetwise guy, hide a gun in allotments where people naturally spend all day digging and foraging about? Alvin claimed Dean was going to be the getaway driver for a robbery that night, but he didn’t have his glasses with him and Dean’s eyesight was at best appalling. When this was pointed out, Alvin said that Dean was going to follow the white lines on the road. It was supposed to be a murder trial, not some Laurel and Hardy comedy sketch, but they allowed him to say it without the absurdity of what was said being questioned. I can only conclude that Alvin was permitted to lie unchallenged so that his evidence would fit the agreed story and exonerate him from any involvement in Dean’s murder. The police were happy because they had somebody for Dean’s murder, the Locksley Close shootings and the Wickford robbery, which looks good on their record.’

It was apparent to me that Beverley Boshell had a lot of questions that she needed answering. In the genuine hope that I could help this grieving mother achieve some sort of closure regarding her son’s death, I suggested that she reply to Alvin. In his apparent virtuous state of mind, Alvin might have felt obliged to answer all the questions to which she sought answers.

After spending literally hours trying to write the words she felt she needed to say to Alvin, Mrs Boshell gave a letter to the police to pass on to him. They later confirmed that he had received it, but Alvin, true to form, had lied again. He didn’t, as promised, bother to reply. There was nothing for him to gain by doing so, therefore I imagine that he couldn’t see the point. The ‘genuine remorse’ commented on by the judge that he had ‘expressed to those his crimes had affected’ was apparently exhausted.

Alvin was not the only one holding his tongue in the hope that this case would go away. In a statement issued by Essex police following Percival’s conviction, they said that they would be reviewing evidence of criminal matters raised at the trial. That review, if it ever did take place, doesn’t appear to have resulted in a single independent witness, old or new, being interviewed. It is as if the review has never taken place.

Despite the hurdles erected by the authorities to hamper my enquiries into the case, I managed to unearth enough evidence to prove beyond doubt that Ricky Percival did not receive a fair trial and may very well be innocent of all charges. The authorities know that and I know that the authorities are not happy about it. I can state this with confidence because on Friday, 14 December 2007 I posted Percival all the new evidence that I had discovered. This was immediately seized by the security department at HMP Full Sutton and Percival was told that he would not be allowed to read or even catch sight of it. Prison staff then implemented an immediate and total ban on communications between Percival and me. He was told that in addition to the visiting ban that was already in place he could no longer telephone or write to me and I could no longer write to him.