John Alexander Symonds

“I'd say: ‘join the KGB and see the world’ - first class. I went to all over the world on these jobs and I had a marvellous time. I stayed in the best hotels, I visited all the best beaches, I've had access to beautiful women, unlimited food, champagne, caviar whatever you like and I had a wonderful time. That was my KGB experience. I don't regret a minute of it ...”


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1981 Trial
Angus Stroyan
Geoffrey Rivlin QC
Christopher Andrew
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Judge Angus Stroyan is The Scottish Parrot

Judge Angus Stroyan plays the fool as the Scottish Parrot at the Killin Highland Games

Judge Angus Stroyan in full regalia applies a vice-like grip on a branch  


There was another supernatural being in whom the inhabitants of Breadalbane had a firm belief - this was the "URISK" OR "BROWNIE", whom the late Mr. James McDiarmid, a native of Breadalbane and an authority on Folk-lore, describes as half-man half-sprite and a rather jolly sort of chap, who always wore a BROAD BLUE BONNET. He was supposed to have his home in or near a waterfall or a lonely hill-loch, but he liked to approach human habitations especially at night and had to be appeased by gifts of food, particularly milk or cream, to which he was very partial. He could prove to be very helpful if duly propitiated - the opposite if he considered himself slighted. Families had been known to leave their homes to escape the misfortunes he could bring down on them if they incurred his displeasure!


Stroyan’s Brownie badge worn on his blue bonnet



Judge Angus Stroyan wearing bonnet

This is the judge’s Brownie badge which he wears on his Brownie hat just above his left ear. This badge is for the benefit of any visitors to the village, so that he can be immediately recognised as an important person who has the power to bring down misfortunes onto any person who incurs his displeasure. My daughters and granddaughters acquired a large number of Brownie badges whilst young and I could have offered him a much better Brownie badge than the one he’s currently wearing.


Stroyan appears to be having and enjoying some success as the village Urisk or Brownie and I am glad that he has at this late stage in his life been able to enjoy some success, if only as the village fool. Stroyan was a failure as a barrister and was thrown out of his chambers; he was a failure as a judge and held in general contempt by all his fellow judges; his only success as a judge was to win the competition of which judge had the most judgements thrown out by the appeal court - he tops this table easily. So maybe we shouldn’t begrudge him his senile joy at being recognised as the village fool in place.


On the first day of my trial at Teesside Crown Court my lawyer, Benedict Birnberg, travelled up from London to assist me during the opening in the arguments about the admissibility of certain evidence. When Ben Birnberg appeared Stroyan nearly fell off his chair, and he then glared at me with hatred as if to say “why have you done this to me”? Ben later explained to me that some years before, when he first started up as a lawyer running a one-man show and working day and night, he had been persuaded by a well-known barrister’s clerk to give the young, brand new just-qualified barrister Angus Stroyan some work. Apparently Angus had not been able to find any work, and was a deserving case.


Ben had been working on an important case, and now needed the assistance of a barrister, and he instructed Angus to represent his client. Some months later the scandal broke that Stroyan had completely screwed up the case, making a fool of himself and the client, and he was now being sued by the client for a huge sum of money. The situation was, that as the client’s solicitor and as the person who had instructed Stroyan, all the idiotic mistakes made by Stroyan - which caused the client to lose the case - meant that Ben was held responsible for this situation. This meant that Ben Birnberg nearly went bankrupt and had to sell up all his possessions, and borrow money and start his business up again from scratch.


Ben complained to the Bar Council about this, and Stroyan was sacked and evicted from the chambers. In normal cases he would have been lucky to have found a job in the local Water Board or Gas Company, but fortunately Stroyan had a sister who has been his major support throughout his life (and maybe still is). His sister had got Stroyan into the chambers, and then supported him all the way through until he was called to the Bar. She was described as a brilliant barrister herself. At the time of this disaster for Stroyan his sister once again helped him out, by arranging for him to become a trainee judge somewhere up North. So it wasn’t a case of FILTH it was a FILTUN (Failed In London Tried Up North).


By the time my trial came up Stroyan’s sister was the senior judge at Middlesbrough, and she asked for my trial to be held in that court. Presumably the Old bailey thought that she would be trying me herself, she being a highly respected senior judge and brilliant barrister. The Old Bailey did not know that, as the senior judge, she was in a position to delegate my case to her idiot younger brother, who having been thrown out of his London chambers had now worked his way through the various judge’s positions up North, and in so doing had created a record which I believe still stands for the number of his judgements which have been immediately overturned by the appeal courts.


The amazing thing is that pinned to the front of my court file was a note, from the Lord Chief Justice, that my trial should only be held before a High Court Judge. This note was still attached to the file when it came into my possession a few years later, and this is probably the reason why the fool Stroyan dressed himself up in High Court Judge’s robes during the early part of my trial.


Knowing that a High Court Judge must have been delegated to my trial I assumed that Stroyan was such, and that is why I addressed him as “My Lord”, as you can see from the transcripts and recordings at the beginning of the trial - and this was why other police officers giving evidence also addressed him as “My Lord”.


It was the evil Jewish parrot Geoffrey Rivlin QC who identified Stroyan  as “Your Honour”, which was the title I used throughout the rest of the trial. I was particularly annoyed by this dishonesty of the judiciary at Teesside Crown Court, because I had been caused to spend an extra six months in prison on remand because of the difficulty of finding a High Court Judge who could try my case.


Ben Birnberg’s information about Stroyan only confirmed the opinion I had already formed myself, that this judge was a damned fool, and God help me having my reputation put at risk in the hands of such a person. I mentioned this to Ben, who said ‘this could be turned to your advantage if you play it right - allow him and encourage him to make as many mistakes and stupid decisions as possible, and be sure to make a careful note of each one - the day and the time for example’, which is what I did throughout the trial.


Ben also told me about the case of Wally Virgo some years before, who having been found guilty and sentenced to 18 years imprisonment at the Old Bailey, appealed against some unwarranted words used by the judge in his summing up, won his appeal and walked free. I decided to adopt a positive attitude and considered myself lucky to be before a fool of a judge instead of a really clever one.


Five days later, I considered beyond doubt that my trial was going to be a farce, and that both the Prosecution Jewish Parrot Rivlin and the idiot judge were both set on convicting me at all and any cost, and would surely send me to prison for six years having failed in their attempt to resurrect a previously rejected conspiracy charge, which if proved would enable them to give me the same 18 years that Wally Virgo had received.


With that in mind I deliberately conned the fool judge on Day 5 (see records) into agreeing that if I changed my plea to guilty my sentences would run concurrently - in other words a maximum sentence of two years instead of six. The fool judge immediately agreed to this, but the evil Jew parrot knew exactly what I was doing, and did everything in his power to stop the judge from making this decision.


Rivlin showed his true character at this stage: during the first four days he pretended to be reasonable and spoke to the judge politely, but on Day 5 when he saw me obviously conning the stupid judge, his face was a picture of hatred and he went over the limits regarding the niceties of a Prosecuting Counsel addressing a sitting judge. I knew from that moment that the gloves were off, and when he pulled ugly Jewish parrot faces at me I responded with an evil eye for the following six weeks of the trial.


At this stage of the trial I was a man alone trying to defend myself against an ‘evil genius’ Prosecuting Counsel, who had obviously taken control of an idiot judge. This was the time I found that I had the sympathy of the Middlesbrough Court, and I started to receive information through one of the Court staff, an usher, who was himself a retired policeman.


I found out about the note pinned to my file through this new friend. I found out about Stroyan’s sister’s part in this case, about the number of Stroyan’s judgements that had been immediately overturned at the Appeal Court, and the fact that there was a deal in place between Stroyan’s sister and the powers that be in London: Stroyan must convict me at all costs, and must take all steps to thwart certain aspects of my defence evidence, which he did.


I also found out through the usher, and then confirmed through other sources, that Stroyan was in fact an embarrassment to that Court, and they wanted to be rid of him. Stroyan hated the town of Middlesbrough and the people that lived there. He complained that he could not understand what the primitive locals were saying, but appeared to accept being a figure of fun. My new friend told me that Stroyan had erected some sort of fantasy land in which he was an important person, and had acquired a thirty or forty year-old Rolls Royce (in poor condition) and had himself driven sitting in the back of this car fully robed up. He was driven to the front of Teesside Crown Court; the driver would alight and open the back door; Stroyan would emerge wearing full fig and wig and proceeded in through the front door of the Court; and he passed through the people waiting therein as if he was royalty.


I could hardly believe my ears, and I got a friend to wait outside the court the next morning to see if this ridiculous pantomime really did take place. I was told that Stroyan arrived at the Court exactly as described by the court usher. He was in fact an embarrassment to everyone in that building. I learnt that Stroyan’s sister had struck a deal which hinged on my being convicted and imprisoned, and that then Stroyan’s dream of returning in triumph to the Inner London Circuit - from which he had been so ignominiously expelled many years before - would come true, and this is exactly what happened.


Stroyan did return in triumph to the Inner London Circuit, but unfortunately he immediately became an embarrassment and a joke there, and it was not long before he was expelled from the inner London Circuit a second time, and no doubt to his horror was returned to the North from whence he came - poor fool. Stroyan had been removed from the Teesside Crown Court where he had been the fool in place and, unbelievably, had been immediately elevated to being a judge at the Old Bailey, his reward for falsely convicting me of corruption. Who then was the corrupt one?


In later years I met up with Tim Greene, who as a trainee solicitor had sat through my trial, as a direct result of a demand from Rivlin that my lawyer should supply some person who could be used to transmit his messages to me, as he did not wish to speak to me directly. Tim may be heard from time to time on the tape recordings, when the judge also used Tim to send me messages and threats. Tim later became fully qualified, and then a very successful solicitor in his own right. In this capacity he often attended the Old Bailey in connection with those of his clients who stood trial there.


Tim told me that, whenever he went to the Old Bailey, Stroyan would make a point of inviting him to his chamber behind the Court, and there he would question him closely about me: how was I, was I happy and settled, enjoying life, etc ... he gave the impression of being genuinely worried about my welfare. At that time I softened towards Stroyan, thinking he might well be an old fool, but underneath there was some humanity to show consideration for a man he had so cruelly mistreated for his own ends. I later realised that Stroyan’s obsessive interest in me - where I was living, and what I was doing - was not based on any humanitarian reason, but fear. I have no doubt that his fear came from the knowledge that I had obtained a full official transcript of my trial, and then had obtained a full set of the police recordings of the trial. I had compared them and put in a complaint to the appropriate authorities, and that’s where his fear came from, and he certainly deserves it - wicked old man!


I later heard from a solicitor on the South Wales Circuit why no one could find a real High Court Judge prepared to take on my case, and my readers might be heartened to learn that the truth was that not a single High Court Judge would touch this case because: (1) my case came with strings attached, and (2) it was “dirty”. This means that whoever took on my case must be prepared to guarantee that I would be convicted, and that any allegations I might make about the Security Services, KGB, important politicians and civil servants, etc, would be blocked and stifled at birth. I must at all costs be convicted of corruption, and the longer my sentence the better.


I think we must all be glad that, whatever the state of British Justice, our High Court Judges are a beacon of truth and justice, because every High Court Judge approached refused this poisoned chalice. They were not prepared to convict a possibly innocent man, and to rig a trial in such a way that I would be bound and gagged.


The other problem was, that any High Court Judge who looked into my case would have found that, apart from the ridiculous Times documents (prepared by The Times reporters and the basis for the newspaper article), there were a series of recordings which every scientist who had looked at them, including those hired by the Prosecution, had stated that these tapes could never be used in evidence. The tapes were claimed to be originals, but they were in fact copies, and worse still, obviously edited copies with copying marks still on the tapes. So the tapes should not have been used in evidence against me.


As far as the transcripts were concerned - made by the corrupt Police Moody and Virgo - these could not be used because the tapes must be rejected. Furthermore, legal arguments were attached to my court papers, which had been made during the previous proceedings involving Robson Harris and myself, backed by sworn statements by the most highly qualified sound engineers in the land, who testified that transcripts taken and prepared from such sources should never ever be allowed in evidence. Therefore, without the tapes and without the transcripts, there was really no case against me.


Added to that problem for the Prosecution, from a High Court Judges’ point of view there was the fact that the numbered bank notes shown in evidence, and allegedly given to me, were not in fact printed by the Bank of England until after the final meeting had taken place. The Bank of England’s lawyers were prepared to attend court to give these facts in evidence. Nobody should be convicted of receiving money which had not in fact been printed!


Furthermore, the whole exercise of phoning up active detectives throughout London, offering information on the condition it would be given at a personal meeting with the detective and then secretly recording the conversations, led to several dozen Scotland Yard detectives being allegedly entrapped - presumably with phantom “yet to be printed” money handed to them. The only case really proved throughout this whole mess was the conspiracy by The Times, the owner of the newspaper who had encouraged this exercise, and the junior staff who had carried it out, incidentally behind the back of the Editor.


There is much more along these lines, and one can imagine the aesthetic faces of the High Court Judges gradually showing deep disgust about the whole affair. However, the main objection of anyone with any intelligence and integrity, would be the knowledge that I was being personally hounded by the most important persons in the land at the time of the case. To learn more about this go the article “Sunny Jim”.


Having read “Sunny Jim” you will see why powerful people demanded that I was convicted - guilty or not. What they were really after was a lengthy sentence, because obviously they could only stay in power while I was restrained in solitary confinement, in a high security prison for as long as possible. Bearing this in mind, you can understand why no decent judge of independent mind and pride in Justice would touch this case, and that’s why I spent a year in prison just waiting for a High Court Judge to be found.


It was not only a High Court Judges that could not be found; no other judges could be found except for one - enter the babbling fool idiot Angus Stroyan, the Scottish Parrot. Stroyan was chosen to facilitate the scenario needed to help a hit man brought in from the Leeds Circuit, who had volunteered to guarantee that he would get me convicted come what may, but of course he would need the cooperation of the judge in the case. No decent or even half-decent judge could be found to judge my case, until that babbling, idiot Scottish Parrot fool agreed to do it.


Why Parrot? Because the fool sat up on the judge’s bench, wearing his High Court Judge’s apparel, and he just eagerly awaited his instructions from Rivlin, who spent the whole trial passing up bits of paper directly to the judge telling him what to say and when to say it. Anyone who follows the attached recordings will observe this, and see that Stroyan is obviously reading from bits of paper whenever he makes any comments that are of any importance.


I used to enjoy those occasions when the old fool misread his instructions, and the crazy, ugly Parrot Master Jew jumped up to publicly correct the judge. The judge would then blink, re-read his instructions, and read them again. This situation was obvious to the whole Court, including the Police and members of the public, which included on occasion certain foreign diplomats who were there on my behalf at the end of the trial to observe the proceedings, and one of them remarked to me: “we could have got you a fairer trial in Moscow or even in Siberia”.


Stroyan’s greatest pleasure was his daily reading out of that day’s press release, written of course by Rivlin, and the tape recordings will show that these announcements (mainly criticising or reproaching me and my conduct during the trial) would be directed not at me and not to the jury, but he would turn to face the press bench. This can be confirmed by the recordings. In other words, the recording system in the court was set up to record whatever the judge said to Rivlin and myself, and this microphone had to be moved to a different position when he was speaking to the jury.


The Court set up was not conducive to facilitate Stroyan’s daily press announcements, which was obviously the highlight of his day, and it was noticed that the comic judge, wearing wig and gown, passing through the public entrance to the Court was now invariably carrying a copy of that day’s Times newspaper under his arm, as if advertising that paper and its contents. This was the only newspaper that daily printed extracts from the trial, and the judge’s pronouncements, written by Rivlin, were given headline treatment. I will later put up examples of this behaviour.


Despite what I have written above about the babbling fool, etc, I must confess to having some sympathy for this now pathetic, senile village idiot apparently oblivious to the mocking laughter which greets his daily appearances, dressed up as a Brownie and wearing one or other of his apparently large collection of tartans. Which clan is he I wonder? I know all about my clan and tartan, and every other person I know who is also entitled to wear a tartan is generally loyal to only the one.


I am sorry for Stroyan, because I believe that as a child he was a simple, normal, small boy, and certainly not talented, who could have led a happy life in his native Scotland as a small farmer or even a crofter. His misfortune was having an older sister, who took it upon herself to interfere in and direct his life - possibly for some benefit to her, but certainly to the detriment of him. She is obviously the true ‘evil genius’ in this series of events. Who is she to push a simple boy into being trained as a barrister? Who is she to facilitate a failed and disbarred barrister onto the bench as a judge? And worst of all, who is she to make a corrupt arrangement with James Callaghan and Howard Smith (and/or their agents) to agree to facilitate the sort of trial that I was subjected to, with a guaranteed false conviction that has ruined my life and the lives of my immediate family.


My mother lost her mind through the shame and disgrace she thought I had brought onto the family. My children’s lives were disrupted, and placed under threat by the corrupt Scotland Yard Chiefs. A terrible book was written about me, which was delivered to my mother and my children, and eventually I had to give up my home to enable my mother and children to live under a form of military protection whilst I was absent from the country. Now my granddaughters are suffering because other children have talked about their grandfather, who was a corrupt policeman and was sent to prison, and those articles have been brought to the attention of my granddaughters causing them stress.


So step forward Miss Stroyan; you have been hiding behind your brother for far too long. You have been controlling his every action as though he were a puppet. You have destroyed your brother - was that the intention? Were you suffering from penis envy which drove you, or are you just a wicked person? How could you do such wicked things to your poor, shambling foolish brother - and more importantly to me - how could you arrange that I and my life should be destroyed, and in the process damage members of my immediate family?


We have talked about evil parrots. I accuse you of being the evil mistress of a foolish parrot. I dare you to come forward Miss Stroyan, you have been attacking me for long enough. You are a wicked evil person, and in your turn I will identify you publicly, and give due publicity to your numerous sins including the above.


Some may think that my words above are harsh and/or unjustified, but my response to that is that the words first written down by the Jew Parrot, and then directed to the Press Bench by the Scottish idiot Parrot, and then published in all the national newspapers and repeated on the radio and television, have remained in my mind since the time they were uttered until the time I woke up this morning. (Read the judge’s comments at the end of the trial) So I know the power of ugly, false and unjustified words, and I hope that my true, correct and justified comments above may have equal effect on the parrots and the Parrot Mistress. Unfortunately I doubt it.


My last question is this: what on earth is your brother doing by claiming to be a QC? Did you also personally bestow this honour on him, you made him a barrister, you made him a judge, and now it seems you made him a QC? How on earth did you facilitate this? There appears to be no record of any official granting of this honour. There are many questions along these lines, for example how did you get him a job as a judge, when he had been disbarred as a barrister? It seems you promoted your brother to being a High Court Judge to facilitate his taking over my trial, and now it appears that you have personally made him a QC, which incidentally takes pride of place in the poor old fool’s mind. I think it is time for you to start answering some question Miss Stroyan. Also, I know a very good psychiatrist who recognised your case immediately for what it was, and you may be pleased to know that you are not alone in your present condition - pure sibling jealousy.


The Wicked “Sisters” - are they the lesbian judges?


I regret having to bring this matter out but, in view of the fact that all my previous allegations are being studiously ignored, I am now obliged to apply more and more corroborative evidence in respect of the allegations I have made above.


During my trial family members and some of my friends became “regular attenders”, to be seen to be occupying seats in the public section of the Court. I heard from them brief resumes regarding their opinion of ongoing trial matters, and also some interesting comments on other members of the public some of whom also became regular attenders. Two characters, who came to the notice of my friends and relatives, were two middle-aged women who came and went throughout the course of my trial. These two women became known and referred to as “the lesbians”. Something about their appearance and behaviour led to this opinion from more than one source.


It seems that they entered the trial in a secretive manner, and always sat close together … too close … and they whispered and giggled together throughout the proceedings. They always left together unobtrusively, and then just as unobtrusively they would reappear in the public gallery later that day. It was as if they knew how the trial was going to go, and appeared and reappeared at times when interesting things were likely to happen, for example: when I was about to cross-examine certain witnesses; particularly when statements and speeches were to be made, but; especially when I was raising matters to do with the conduct of my trial.


The frequent attendance of these two women was brought to my notice and I managed to catch glimpses of them throughout my trial. I am sure I would be able to identify them today if necessary.


From the very beginning of my trial I had been informed that judge Stroyan had been appointed to judge my case by his sister, who was the senior judge at Middlesbrough and was therefore in a position to personally delegate her brother to take control of my trial, despite the fact he was not a High Court Judge and (as she must have known) an obviously incompetent person to handle a trial such as mine. Using her position as a senior judge she was also instrumental in allowing an unknown Prosecutor from the Leeds Circuit to transfer to the North-Eastern Circuit to prosecute my trial. She was the only person who could facilitate this possibly illegal situation, and more importantly she was the person who over-rode the complaints of the Middlesbrough Court staff who objected to Geoffrey Rivlin bringing his own shorthand writers from Leeds to record my trial.


In the first instance there were many other judges, including herself, who were far senior to and very much more competent than Stroyan. These actions were certainly improper and quite possibly illegal. The advice of an expert on Court procedures and rules and regulations would be useful here.


There is much more supporting evidence available if necessary, but the fact remains that my pantomime trial could not have been arranged, and the parts of the cast in the pantomime could not have been facilitated, without the direct interference of these two women. Both of them were judges and highly regarded within the legal system, and who have since gone onto even greater things, possibly on the back of the unjust joke trial they arranged for me, all for the benefit of judge Stroyan and to make true his childish wish to be a famous judge at the Old Bailey.


We all know about sisterly love but this was taking it to extremes and therefore must be exposed, identified and publicised. The truth is that my allegations expose British Justice to be in fact a joke, or should I say a sick joke, if it is true that a couple of old lesbians can destroy an innocent man in order to facilitate an undeserved career promotion for an idiot judge, who despite being a total fool in all aspects of his life can be elevated within the judicial system through the machinations of his sister and her lesbian friend. The whole of the British Justice System hereby stands exposed as a sick joke. God help all of us!


The title “wicked sisters” is correct. There were two lesbian judges within the British Judicial System, who formed a lesbian relationship at the beginning of their careers, and they loyally maintained this relationship for the rest of their careers, if not their lives. The term lesbian is accurate, and the term sisters is also accurate. ‘Miss Stroyan’ is a judge and the sister of Angus Stroyan. Her sister-in-law is her lesbian partner, who is the sister of the man Miss Stroyan married. So they are both sisters twice over, one sister to Stroyan and sister-in-law to the other lesbian - the other sister to the man Miss Stroyan married, which makes Miss Stroyan and her lesbian friend sisters-in-law. That proves the word “sister”. The word “wicked” is proved beyond all doubt, by the evidence about my trial that is written down and the evidence that is yet to come. They created and executed a wicked conspiracy to destroy me and my life in order to improve the position of Stroyan. If that’s not wicked, what is?


I have been publicly exposing the misdeeds of judges Stroyan and Rivlin but these pathetic cowards have been hiding away, no doubt trembling, and have yet to answer one of my allegations, because they know damn well that everything I say is the truth and can be proved to be so. I am very disappointed, because I have been looking forward to re-running my trial before High Court Judges as originally ordered by a Lord Chief Justice. Your brother and his corrupt friend must have known that, if they failed to answer my allegations in a manly and decent way, there was a danger that I would have to publicise your parts in my trial as crooked lady lesbian judges.


I do not criticise you for being lesbians - one of my late wife’s best friends was a lesbian - but this relationship had to be disclosed to show the strong connection between you two. A lesbian would risk her career to assist a fellow lesbian, but a fellow lesbian only. I now hope that you will have the courage to do what your male fellow conspirators do not have the courage to do, that is to take me to court and challenge me to produce my evidence, which I assure you I do have within my thousands of pages of evidence. It has been my life’s ambition to have my trial re-heard before a proper Court and proper judges. I look forward to meeting you in that nice new Supreme Court, which will be a suitable arena for us, as four senior judges will be on trial for a conspiracy to pervert the course of justice, which of course means that the whole of the British Justice System will then be on trial. Worthy of the Supreme Court?



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