The judge then adjourned for 10 minutes. Whilst he was out I looked at Robinson, sitting about 8 feet away from me. He had been staring at the Judge for 2 weeks never looking to his right, to where his victims were sitting. I decided, to wave at him. Robinson’s attention was broken and he looked straight at me. I raised my finger and pointed straight at his eyes and said out loud, “You fuckin’ bastard, you do remember me”. The police, my brothers and everyone else looked at me. I said what I had to say. Because according to Robinson I do not exist. He does not want to recognise me. And I was abused by this bastard.
The Judge returned, nothing was said to me. So we continued, but I must say, I had to say what I said. I would do it again.
Finally Robinson took the witness box, took an oath as a Catholic priest and started telling a pack of lies. He was bewildered, confused and gave many answers that frankly were for the birds. Letters were produced from the Bishop of Birmingham appealing for him to come home and face the music (at that time he was in LA). Cheques were given to him: one for £8,400, which he could not remember; £200 per week was paid to him for 9 years whilst on the run in LA; a copy of a letter sent by Robinson, asking the Vicar General in Birmingham to get his friends in high places to call off the investigation; his application for a renewed UK driver’s Licence, whilst he was on the run; he was testing the water to see if he would show up on the computers, he didn’t; and many other details. He brushed off all of it, as he is innocent. He travelled to UK in 1991 on his US passport, but was tipped off by persons unknown and, leaving his mother to die, fled the next day.
December 1st, 2011 at 4:29 PM
The truth is so wonderful because it is like a sharp stick reaching out and hitting right where it needs to.