REFLECTIONS by Martin Frost

The agenda starts:

1. My strength, my faith.

2. My family, my father and mother.

Nothing motivates me more than my family. I have three sons, and they have a loving mother. My eldest son, Martin, is an English solicitor specialising in commercial law. Middle son, Edward, lives at Edenside, he graduated as a town and country planner, and currently works as a spinner in a Galashiels’ factory. David, my youngest son, was of my three sons, the most troubled and influenced by my marriage break-up; he has recently graduated from St Andrews University in ancient history. I have a sister, Anne who lives with her husband Tom in Yorkshire. I remain in touch with my sister, her own family, and those of my cousins on my mother’s side. I am very lucky to have loving, supporting and caring relatives. I was brought up to believe in the merits of the long or extended family, and without doubt this safety net has proved invaluable to me.

The ancestry of my mother is Irish. Her family left Ireland, County Wexford, at the time of the potato blight. They made it to Maryport in the North West of England but being unable to raise the £5 per head for their fare to the United States they settled in Liverpool. The family folk law is full of tales which I relate elsewhere. I suppose it is from this side of the family that I inherit the gift of the blarney.

If my mother’s family were of Irish peasant stock (a fact my mother would vehemently deny, maintaining instead her family were descended from the ‘Kings of Ireland’ who were just down on their luck) then my father’s family were of yeoman stock from the Welsh Shropshire border. Here it is easier to trace the family back through the generations. My grandfather was born in the 1840s and my great grandfather, it is said, fought against Napoleon. My father would joke when being a little devilish and suggest that my mother’s family emerged from the bogs of Ireland whilst his own ancestors were of good yeoman stock. Indeed he would go on then to relate that back in the 15^th century his yeoman ancestor was a bit of a ‘bruiser’. That one day this bruiser fell in with another welsh reprobate called Henry Tudor who lulled our ancestor into a bit of a scuffle at a place called Bosworth; the result of which gave our bruiser ancestor a big bag of swag.

It is very true that many of my relatives on the Frost side are exceptionally well heeled. Such wealth never rubbed off onto my father who had nothing but ill will towards his Frost relatives. Indeed, as a youngster father’s relatives was a taboo subject. I do not share my father’s overall distaste and I admit to being proud when viewing the centuries of tomb stones of my ancestors in the small church at Fair Oak. That said, I do harbour grudges and my family does seem to have had more than its fair share of feuds which have been passed down the generations.

My father was the unexpected result of a late second marriage by both my elderly grandfather and grandmother. Previously my grandfather had produced a bevy of daughters but it was grandfather’s younger brothers that produced the male offspring. Neither my grandmother’s family nor my grandfather’s family blessed their marriage as my grandmother was Jewish. Shortly before my father’s fifth birthday my grandfather died, whereupon my father’s relatives evicted my grandmother and my father from their home. One of my father’s earliest memories was the poignancy of this terrible eviction. Nor did my grandmother’s relatives treat her and my father any better. They were literally cast out into the gutter.

My father was educated at a ‘Blue Coat school’. My grandmother kept food on the table by working as a cleaner for Stafford Council. In 1927, at 14, my father was apprenticed as a compositor in the printing works which his relatives held an interest. His starting wage was eight shillings a week which equated to twelve and a half per cent of a journey man’s then prevailing wage of £3.20 per week. Nevertheless this wage increased the family weekly income by some fifty percent thus enabling him and my grandmother to move out of rooms at 2 Crooked Bridge Street, Stafford.

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(Note the terms, during his apprentice my father educated himself three hours a day
via night school so he would become an educated man.)

My father’s mother, my grandmother Frost, died shortly before the Second World War commenced. Upon the outbreak of the Second World War my father immediately joined up as a private. He had a distinguished war time career. He became a commando; an officer; he commanded a Ghurkha Brigade; and worked with Louis Mountbatten. He upped his degrees in the Masonic movement and introduced Mountbatten’s cousin Prince Michael of Kent into masonry.

Prior to dispatch to India he married my mother in Birkenhead. She no longer looked upon my Dad as an upgraded ‘boy scout’ but as a war hero. My mother remained in Birkenhead. When my father returned from the war and took my mother back to Stafford they found that my father’s step sister had sworn that my Dad was missing, presumed dead and she had thus sold my father’s car, household effects, and was in the throes of selling their home, all of which had been so hard won by my Dad and his mother prior to the war’s outbreak. No wonder my Dad hated his Frost relatives.

Compared to my father my mother had life easy. Her Irish forbearers had prospered. Some years ago on BBC Television there appeared a series set in Liverpool called the ‘Onedin Line’. My mother often remarked that this series had been modelled upon her own family. Perhaps so, but I think there may have been a touch of the blarney if not baloney both from my Mum and the BBC’s script writer. What cannot be disputed is that by the standards of the day my mother’s family were well connected in the Liverpool and Birkenhead commercial classes. Nowadays, it is often forgotten that Liverpool was then the ‘Heathrow’ of Britain and was a vibrant and progressive city.

Unusual for a girl of her age my mother left school at 18. By repute not only was she very intelligent but extremely pretty. Despite great family disapproval she secured a position as the secretary and general factotum in a very small back street printer in Liverpool. This tiny company mushroomed into the Littlewood’s (football pools, mail order, and stores) billion pound empire; an occurrence which profoundly influenced my own life.

My mother excelled at business. She wrote the first book to be published in the U.K. upon work study. She was placed in charge of barrage balloon production during the Second World War. Her numerical skills commercialised the football pools; she advocated mail order for the working woman and assisted John Moores in setting this business up.

My father was a man of great personal integrity; my mother was a business woman. After the war my mother persuaded my father not to stay on in the army and not to accept the offer of the editorship of the ‘Times of India’. Instead, after the debacle of my father’s sister in law she attempted to persuade my father to join Littlewoods in Liverpool.

It was not to be. There was too much gossip. My mother had too good a relationship with (Sir) John Moores. Malicious questions as to my probable parentage followed. My father put his foot down and he returned to Stafford with my mother. It would be some years before Littlewoods again featured in our family life.

Given his wartime success my father my father quickly became a prominent man in Stafford. He was appointed managing director of Morts (the same firm that some nineteen years before he had been apprenticed into) and became editor of the associated daily, evening and weekly Staffordshire papers.

My father then became acquainted with Robert Maxwell. As a family we moved South but the venture with Maxwell proved expensive. Thereupon followed a series of perambulations until my father and mother with a textile manufacturer, Mr Peter Varley, founded a new printing company in Blackburn, Lancashire. My mother and father worked as a team. The business prospered due to the volume of business acquired from Littlewoods mail order and Varley’s overall and jean factories.

I had a privileged and somewhat spoilt upbringing. (Upon reflection I suppose my father sought to compensate through me the trials of his own childhood). My relative prosperity as a child was augmented by my own innate intelligence and proficiency at sport. Yes, I was conceited. But above all both my parents installed the work ethic within me.

Here, in these web pages, and elsewhere I have written much about my family. When complete the following links may of interest, at least to family members.

Frosty Tales

A Personal History of Littlewoods

Cammell Lairds Shipyard

All things said, there are two factors which were passed onto by my parents which would continually reappear to mould my life. The first was my father’s war time and subsequent Masonic connections. The second was my mother’s family connections.

As a postscript:

Suddenly and out of the blue, I have been contacted in recent months by Frost relatives. This I found somewhat strange until I discovered that a Manx trust set up by my great grandfather concludes upon my death. A cynical kind of chap might think monetary interest rather than just a wish to conclude family feuding was the cause. Personally, I hope the outreach is for friendship’s sake.

3. My health and possible death.

I have poor health. I suffer from a blood complaint which eats away my bone strength. I have advanced osteoporosis. Some two years ago I had an accident in the foyer of a petrol station. The foyer floor was wet and an unsecured mat had been placed on it. You had to stand on the mat to pay for the petrol; in so doing the mat slipped and I fell hard on a block of wood that broke my leg and hip. The fall triggered the blood problem. I am now full of metal parts. I have constant pain which on dark days prompts suicidal thoughts.

In 1997 I had a mental breakdown. Pressure of work, marriage problems, and my blood complaint caused the breakdown. I had drug and psychiatric treatment for some six months. I now live with my ‘black dog’ of depression; it is an uneasy relationship for I do not like dogs.

As a youngster I read Marcus Aurelius’ ‘Meditations’. (Marcus Aurelius, AD 121-80, was both a Roman Emperor and a philosopher, reputed a better philosopher than Emperor) Stoic philosophy has had a profound influence of my life. I recommend the book to all. I quote below some passages which have been a great comfort to me:

‘Apollonius impressed on me the need to make decisions for myself instead of depending on the hazards of chance, and never for a moment to leave reason out of sight. He is also schooled me to meet spasms of pain, the loss of my son, and the tedium of chronic ailment with the same unaltered composure.’  Book One. 8.

‘Were you to live three thousand years, or even thirty thousand, remember that the sole life which a man can lose is that which he is living at the moment; and furthermore, that he can have no other life except the one he loses. This means that the longest life and the shortest life amount to the same thing. For the passing minute is every man’s equal possession, but what has gone is not ours. Our loss, therefore, is limited to that one fleeting instant, since no one can lose what already is past, nor yet what still to come – for how can he be deprived of what he does not possess? So two things should be borne in mind. First, that all cycles of creation since the beginning of time exhibit the same recurring pattern, so that it can make no difference whether you watch the identical spectacle for a hundred years, or for two hundred, or for ever. Secondly, that when the longest and the shortest lived of us come to die, their loss is precisely equal. For the sole thing of which any man can be deprived is the present; since this is all he owns, and nobody can lose what is not his’.  Book Two. 14

‘In all you do or say or think, recollect that at any time the power of withdrawal from life is in your own hands. If God’s exist, you have nothing to fear in taking leave of mankind, for they will not let you come to any harm. But if there are no God’s, or if they have no concern with mortal affairs, what is life to me, in a world devoid of God’s or devoid of providence? God’s, however do exist, and do concern themselves with the world of men.’  Book Two 11

‘We should apprehend, too, the nature of death; and that if only it be steadily contemplated, and the fancies we associate with it be mentally dissected, it will soon come to be thought of as no more than a process of nature (and only children are scared by a natural process) – or rather, something more than a mere process, a positive contribution to nature’s well-being. Also we can learn how man has contact with God, and with which part of himself this is maintained, and how that part fares after its removal hence’.
Book Two 12

Anyhow, turning from the philosophical to my current frame of mind I say as follows:

I am not the least bit concerned with death. I regard it as the transgression from one dimension to another. (I would not go as far as my Celtic ancestors in that it was perfectly in order to pay for one’s cattle, not in this life but in the next.) That said I am not in the least bit suicidal nor is such contemplated in the near future. Thus if I shortly wind up dead by possible suicide may I suggest murder is the preferred verdict.

I could be troubled with the manner of passing. I do see a degree of ignominy in exiting via a bar room brawl. Thus I am concerned with certain rumours that Mr McNamara is putting about and having circulated. Namely: a) that my hip was broken by baseball bats applied on me by irate personal creditors; and b) that I had received a ducking in the river Tweed, again instituted by angry creditors.

Neither the baseball bat story nor the ducking tale has any truth. One has to ask what the purpose of such fiction is. The obvious answer is that it is all part of McNamara’s ongoing desire to blacken and besmirch my character. A more probable answer is that it is simply an advance alibi. McNamara, particularly when inebriated, has made it no secret that he wishes me dead. Somehow, as McNamara at heart is a coward, I do not see him attempting same in cold blood. I do not have the slightest illusion that he has, as he says, plenty of colleagues from the criminal fraternity who will fulfil McNamara’s wish. So if one of these chooses to collect McNamara’s bounty of £10,000 cash, McNamara has already seeded the motivation away from him to fictitious others.

As you can read in my web section on McNamara and in the pleadings Warwick v McNamara I concur with his self proclaimed evilness. The question arises what can our law do to protect me? It is my considered opinion that it cannot; that is if either the courts or the police had any inclination so to do. The solution is a problem I still wrestle with.

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4. My interest in the law.

As is palpably obvious from a cursory reading of this site I am not a lawyer nor have I had any formal legal training. I have read a few books and have made the odd court utterance. I became a so called ‘semi professional party litigant’ not of choice but by force of circumstance which I narrate in the  Lady Smith essay.

Lawyers are myopic and are becoming increasingly so.

Lawyers are conceited and are becoming increasingly so.

Lawyers are usurping our liberty.

Lawyers seek favourable outcomes and not justice.

We expect too much from our lawyers.

Quite simply I have seen in my lifetime an encroachment upon my liberty and I believe that the mindset of the lawyer is the unknown culprit.

Government is abusing its power by taking advantage of the constitution.

To explain:

Bluntly, our politicians of all persuasions have manipulated our constitution in order to secure for themselves a short term political gain.

How do we rectify this abuse?

The current consensus is that we move more and more to a written constitution whose skeleton and framework is agreed by politicians with our courts (read judges) then interpreting same to put meat on the bone. 

The questions are: who do we trust more? Or who do we distrust least?

My personal view is:

It is a dichotomy, for I trust a judge more for his acumen yet I distrust a judge more on account of his lack of accountability.

Why is this problem more acute in Scotland?

The Scotland Act 1998 gives a quasi written constitution. Unknown to most the Court of Session is supreme over the Scottish Parliament. In the final analysis the judges control our elected representatives.

That this is the position is illustrated by Lord President Rodger in the petition   Whaley v Lord Watson of Invergowrie in 2000.  Lord Rodger in his opinion writes:-

‘The Lord Ordinary gives insufficient weight to the fundamental character of the Parliament as a body which - however important its role - has been created by statute and derives its powers from statute. As such, it is a body which, like any other statutory body, must work within the scope of those powers. If it does not do so, then in an appropriate case the court may be asked to intervene and will require to do so, in a manner permitted by the legislation. In principle, therefore, the Parliament like any other body set up by law is subject to the law and to the courts which exist to uphold that law. In the 1998 Act Parliament did, however, put one important limitation on the powers of the court in proceedings involving the Scottish Parliament. In Section 40(3) and (4), which I examine more fully below, it provided that in such proceedings the court should not grant an order for suspension, interdict, reduction or specific performance but might instead grant a declarator; nor should it grant any order against an individual which would have equivalent effect. It is unnecessary for present purposes to consider the position where Community law rights are involved. Cf. R. v. Secretary of State for Transport ex parte Factortame Ltd. [1990] E.C.R. I-2433 at paragraph 21. Subject to Section 40(3) and (4), however, the court has the same powers over the Parliament as it would have over any other statutory body and might, for instance, in an appropriate case grant a decree against it for the payment of damages.

Lord Rodger goes on to say:

‘Some of the arguments of counsel for the first respondent appeared to suggest that it was somehow inconsistent with the very idea of a parliament that it should be subject in this way to the law of the land and to the jurisdiction of the courts which uphold the law. I do not share that view. On the contrary, if anything, it is the Westminster Parliament which is unusual in being respected as sovereign by the courts. And, now, of course, certain inroads have been made into even that sovereignty by the European Communities Act 1972. By contrast, in many democracies throughout the Commonwealth, for example, even where the parliaments have been modelled in some respects on Westminster, they owe their existence and powers to statute and are in various ways subject to the law and to the courts which act to uphold the law. The Scottish Parliament has simply joined that wider family of parliaments. Indeed I find it almost paradoxical that counsel for a member of a body which exists to create laws and to impose them on others should contend that a legally enforceable framework is somehow less than appropriate for that body itself.’

This opinion of Lord Rodger is very final. In the ultimate analysis his shout is greater than that of Scotland’s First Minister.

Today the below article occurred in the Scotsman Newspaper.

It is understood that Sheriff Hugh Neilson, 51, was found sitting in the waiting area of a well known sauna in the Charing Cross area of Glasgow.

The sheriff has so far refused to comment in detail but yesterday confirmed his suspension from duty. He said: "I don’t think I will be doing myself any favours or it would be in the interests of justice to start responding to this. All I would say is that I’m blessed with the support of my wife, family, friends and colleagues in these trying times."

How bad is this? Should this sheriff be dismissed? In the McNamara section of this web site I address the issue of Glasgow saunas and McNamara’s interest and influence over same. And yes, Sheriff Neilson is far from being the only sheriff, advocate or lawyer that regularly partakes of sauna services.

Today, following a discussion with some of my spook colleagues; I find the whole Scottish judicial scene mind boggling.

Lord Cullen, the Lord President recently presided over the Lockerbie trial. Lord Cullen knew that the defence counsel for the accused would not be acceptable to the accused if the accused had been informed of the personal indiscretions of their counsel.

Namely, one is reputed to be a regular attendee of ‘gay’ bars and the other an attendee of houses of ill repute or saunas. Indeed Richard Keen, is said to have picked up a STD (sexual transmitted disease) from a lady of the night and infected his wife with it, thus obliging his wife to obtain appropriate treatment.

How is it then possible for Lord Cullen to dismiss Sheriff Neilson? Or do we have one law for Muslims and another for us Christians?

Let us look at Sheriff Lothian. I enclose a   recent letter his wife sent to Mr Stuart Usher. In the letter you will see his ex-wife makes certain allegations of financial misdoing. I regret such insider dealings by the Edinburgh legal establishment seem far from uncommon. Who judges the judges? How do some members of the legal establishment get away with wrongdoing? 

These questions must be answered.

Let us now look at the micro view of Scottish court pleadings. Here I enclose an article of mine,  Scottish civil pleading.  In an academic sense this article was well received. It has good logic but in virtually every other legal jurisdiction this form of procedural law has been abandoned. Why? Because it was found that lawyers tell lies. Are Scottish lawyers that more honest?

5. Once a spook, always a spook.

I did not set out to be a spy, spook, or whatever term might be applicable. It just happened. I have not attended ‘spy school’ but I have benefited from the University of Life Experiences and the odd formal course. Currently I belong to two cells, neither of which has objected to that I write below. I realise I am described as an enthusiastic amateur who has passed his sell by date.

My recruitment occurred as follows:

In 1977 I secured the appointment of Director of the Captain Cook Trust. Whilst this Trust was given great humanitarian overtones it was in reality a fount for finance. Middlesbrough Council (a local government authority in the North East of England) had decided to build an expensive museum on the site where Captain Cook was born in celebration of Cook’s achievements. There was a great fanfare of trumpets but the glamour of the project threatened to become a political disaster for whilst the council initiated and guaranteed the museum enterprise there was no financial provision in the council’s budget for the project. (Even for the Scottish Parliament there was some provision) It was then politically prudent that this council initiated project was dropped (dumped) into a semi autonomous body, the Trust, which would then become responsible for the (failure of the) project.

To obtain a suitable Director of the Trust, Middlesbrough Council offered a sizeable bribe; namely the salary of a chief executive officer with independence, and an office, perks and staff to match. Not surprisingly there was great interest, hundreds applied, and I, at 29, was short listed with three senior executives in their mid fifties.

I secured the position because I had done some homework and I presented a plan to the council that would work. I won the support of councillor Shopland, leader of the ruling Labour Party. My plan was simple; I would fund the museum enterprise on the back of a lottery not dissimilar to some of my mother’s football pool ideas. I would give status to the project via the acquisition of prominent personages both nationally and internationally; I would secure the co-operation of local worthies to act as trustees and fund raisers. In short, I would turn what the informed perceived to be a political and economic disaster into not just a national but international success.

I succeeded.

I took advantage of some of my father’s contacts. To cut a long story short, Lord Mountbatten was persuaded to become the senior patron to the Trust. Thereafter it was a relatively easy job to ask him to persuade such as the Prime Ministers of the U.K.; Australia; New Zealand; and other notables to become fellow patrons. My funding for the project was secured via the assistance of some senior executives from Littlewoods. An Act of Parliament was secured and the ‘instant lottery’ had arrived on the streets of Britain. Within the year I had a surplus net income of over £500,000 per annum from lottery money; alone sufficient in those days to support council loan stock or bonds of £10 million or some £200 million at today’s count. (Not quite enough for the Scottish Parliament). In addition I obtained worldwide grants and gifts for the museum/Trust and set up various trading companies under the mantle of the Trust.

Midway through my time with the Trust in January 1998, in a restaurant bar near to the town hall, at lunch with a Middlesbrough councillor I was introduced to a Russian sailor. Matters progressed. By necessity I had learnt a smattering of Russian at university, the councillor I was with had been a good communist (before he saw the error in his ways and joined the Labour Party) and it seemed possible that I too may be a likely Russian ally. There was some further social interaction with the sailor but prior to commitment I used the birth of my second son Edward to take a rain check on the proceedings.

I discussed the situation with my Dad and shortly afterwards I received a call from ‘Brian’. I met Brian in a hotel close to the Municipal Buildings. We chatted, he knew my father, and I agreed to help. My spy recruitment was as simple as that. Thereafter I met up again with the Russian sailor and matters progressed.

Any entanglement with intelligence organisations is unwise if you seek mystery or glamour. Much of intelligence work is mundane and bureaucratic. I was very fortunate, dependant upon your point of view, of the contacts I made. That said I enjoyed my small part in the ‘great game’ though I am inclined to believe more often the point was to keep the game going, rather than win.

For the point of this article I will largely skip over my parallel life except to mention some possible amusing happenings.

In 1978 I was briefly a ‘green ink’ man. I had direct contact with the then Sir Terrence Lewin (later Lord after the Falklands). Anyhow, I dropped a note to the Russian Embassy suggesting that ‘now was the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party’ we were having at Greenwich. Sir Terrence Lewin did likewise to his opposite number; via in those days, ‘ship to ship telegraph’ which didn’t go through the foreign office. The Soviets overdid it, turned up at the mouth of the Thames with a large squadron of warships and when asked what they were doing there; they said Frost had invited them. I received a very angry note from the Foreign Secretary David Owen stating that he at least consulted his cabinet colleagues before making decisions on national policy.

Also in 1978 Private Eye wrote a ‘nice’ piece about me. From memory it was entitled ‘Funk holes for the rich’. You may recall in those days we had currency exchange restrictions. Anyhow, I had found a loophole in the regulations, and for a small fee to the Trust I would arrange an appropriate swap of funds with a Swiss or US bank. Perhaps on account of the charitable donation to the Trust I had many Labour notables and cabinet members of my books. The underside of my large desk was just too small to hide under. If I had been a betting man I would have put money that the facts to this article were leaked by the foreign office.

Via my spooky friends I was privileged to meet many interesting and influential people. Michael Romain was one. James Goldsmith was another. It was Goldsmith who persuaded me into the so called ‘Survival Association’ upon which he gave me appropriate plugs in his ‘Now’ magazine. At that time our US friends were most concerned that the U.K. might lurch into becoming a Soviet satellite. The CIA had a slush fund which Goldsmith was able to direct to well meaning Brits. If you have ever read ‘The Chilean Club’ by George Shipway, then there is many a word of truth in jest. Thank God nothing did occur but in 1979 there were over 10,000 fully armed and trained men who could be called upon and plans were well in hand to take over the country within twenty four hours. (It is noteworthy since then respective governments have sought to reduce the number of official firearms in circulation.)

I remember in the early eighties being the subject of a BBC documentary. One of my attributes was that I had managed to borrow the Soviets nuclear strike plans for GB. That said, I do believe it was a pretty open secret. A U.K. government publication ‘Protect and Survive’ had recently been published. Anyhow, as a result of this documentary, I was to have a live television debate with Leon Brittan, the then Home Secretary. The BBC thought it was appropriate that I appear at the entrance of a disused railway tunnel in Glasgow (one of our proposals for conversion into nuclear fall out shelters); Leon Brittan in contrast would be in the BBC’s warm London studio. The programme went out live around 10 p.m., which incidentally was the time in those days that the pubs in Scotland closed. Leon Brittan spoke first answering some of the criticisms I had made on the documentary; before asking me to speak, the commentator from London noted what a terrible night we appeared to be having with all the rain that was drenching me. I did my best to reply to the Home Secretary but my heart was not really in it. My drenching was man made from countless pub locals urinating from the tunnel parapet above. Apart from the humour there is perhaps a degree of symbolism.

I do believe that the US intelligence agencies for the last fifteen years have taken a special interest in Scottish politics and the Scottish judicial system. I know that the judicial deliberations over the Lockerbie were eavesdropped. I am aware that as a by product to such CIA observation information directly useful in my own dispute with the Unity Trust Bank Plc was picked up. I enclose two letters which I wrote in January 2000. The first to  Mrs Fiona Merrilees on 9^th January 2000;   and the second to the   Lord Advocate on 19^th January 2000.   Neither letter did I receive an acknowledgement to let alone a formal response. Why I ask? Is our legal system that conceited?

Knowledge, the conventional wisdom has it, is power; but knowledge cannot destroy or deflect or damage or even defy wrong doing unless the possession of knowledge is also allied to objective force. Foreknowledge is no protection against injustice. Even real-time intelligence is never real enough. In a democracy, only the force of the ballot box finally counts.

But we have elevated our judicial system in Scotland above Parliament and outwit the ballot box, see my articles on   My Interest in the Law   and  Lady Smith  and  Judges Rule.

To whom are our judges accountable?

It seems to me that matters have transversed full circle. Judges both civil and criminal owe their existence to the rule of law. If the judges pervert that rule of law we have the making of a totalitarian judge controlled state. I for one am becoming tired of playing footsy to people who have lost in my opinion their right to rule. Maybe, it is time as some of my colleagues state that we have another revolution. As an ex general recently said to me:

‘Al Qaeda, there’re amateurs. This government is facing the wrong direction; they’ve filled the balloon to bursting with hot air. Time is ripe for the people to put back some honesty into our county.’

I do understand the sentiment and I do believe we are closer to armed resurrection than most people think. That said, miracles do happen and it might not come to this.

May I suggest we make our judges accountable to the ballot box?

Finally, I should answer a pertinent question that is put to me and one which in the depths of the night has given me some concern. No I am not nor have I ever been a ‘wet jobber’, nor have I at any time directly employed ‘wet jobbers’. During my career I have had three professional attempts on my life. Fortunately the ‘rug heads’ who once could have killed me in my bedroom, missed on account that I had returned to the flat late, very drunk, not found my bedroom and went to sleep in the broom cupboard. No, I was not responsible for the assassination of the French Prime Minister. No, I have never considered the physical removal of Mr Andrew McNamara. Strange as it may seem I passionately believe in the Rule of Law.

6. How I made some money.

‘Money has rarely been a problem in my life. Lack of it has.’

Cartoon taken from the Daily Express in 1990, when Martin Frost, along with his partner, oil tycoon James Longcroft,
was buying up the British establishment.'

For many people money equates to security. Surprisingly on most occasions when I have had money I have felt least secure.

Although I have spent more time in insolvency than most, my friends who know me have often described me as a financial genius.

At 24 I founded my first public company; John Dekker, then editor of BBC’s money programme, compiled an article on me describing me as one of ‘Britain’s young tycoons’. I developed the instant print house, limited edition prints and various other ideas which Mr Tiny Rowlands of Lonro fame, in my view, stole off me because I was then too naive.

At 29 I helped initiate instant lotteries throughout the U.K..

At 30 I was offered a chief executive job at Littlewoods.

At 32 I purchased my first textile mill

At 34 I bought up no less than five textile mills.

At 35 I bought up further mills with Queens’ awards for innovation and export thrown in.

At 37 I was the U.K.’s largest manufacturer of small arm parts in the UK and became one of the last industrial ‘Princes’ in the English Midland’s Black Country.

At 41 I became an energy King.

Between the ages 43 and 51, I suffered no less than seven DTI investigations upon business’s I either owned or part owned.

These investigations were prompted by the Lothian and Borders Police; Merseyside Police; Unity Trust Bank Plc and the Inland Revenue based in Edinburgh. In January 1994 I was instructed by the DTI not to work and my assets were blocked. I was never charged with an offence. In late 1998 I received a note from the DTI to say that they had concluded their current investigations on me and I was free to proceed once more in the business world. Problem was by that time I was in an IVA (an Individual Voluntary Arrangement, a form of English insolvency) and so was unable to take advantage of the DTI’s generosity.

Accountants Deloittes, Haskins & Sells; then next Coopers & Lybrand estimated that between 1982 and 1991 I had made in excess of £10.5 million from dealing in assets. To this sum must be added a further £6 million in personal loans that I was either given or advanced in the main by James Goldsmith and James Longcroft. During this same period the companies I controlled paid over more than £15 million in tax to the U.K. government.

How I made this money is simply explained, I bought well.

Let me give some examples.

In February 1982 Langlands Mill and the business of A. Hall & Son in the Scottish Borders was up for sale by the Royal Bank of Scotland’s receivers Cork Gulley. I negotiated to buy the business for £11,000 and the property for £30,000. Having agreed a price, I then persuaded Cork Gulley to make me a formal offer to sell with an acceptance date from me three weeks hence. I then went out to neighbours to the mill and persuaded the neighbours to make me formal offers to buy parts of mill property from me. In this manner I received formal offers to buy amounting to some £52,000 for a sixth of the mill property. I then gave my acceptance to Cork Gulley and made a quick £11,000 cash on the deal. Furthermore, I did not use a penny of my cash and I still retained the bulk of the property, the plant and machinery, and all the stock.

In 1983 I bought Twomax Ltd in Glasgow from the receivers Cork Gulley in similar fashion. I persuaded Cork Gulley to make me a formal offer to sell on the whole business and property of some £450,000. I had six weeks in which to answer. Two weeks in and Cork Gulley was somewhat upset to read in the trade press that I was advertising by tender all the plant and stock of Twomax. With each tender the buyer had to enclose a bank draft to my lawyers. My tender by auction raised £690,000 for two thirds of the plant and machinery leaving me the property, the stock, a third of the plant and £240,000 cash.

Some weeks following the acquisition of Twomax, I purchased the companies Deacon and Annette Carol in Leicester from the Symons family. I agreed a purchase price of £10,000 for the shareholding and agreed to immediately upon purchase to repay their family loan account in the business which amounted to some £125,000. To fund this I incurred a £50 company fine for I pre-sold a company machine for £12,500 in respect of the share price. Furthermore prior to purchase I met with the company’s bankers and upon the factory valuation of £300,000 secured an overdraft of £175,000 out of which I repaid the Symons family their loan account.

In similar fashion to the above I purchased well over a hundred more companies between 1982 and 1991. I suppose my best buy was Hingley’s in the West Midlands which I obtained for £30,000 and made some £4 million upon acquisition.

Upon selfish reflection it would have been better for me upon each successful business purchase to there and then break the business up, fully realise the constituent parts and take the money. I chose not to do. This I did simply out of patriotism. From my infancy I had inculcated into me by my father that the virtues and values of the British workman were the best in the world. Such views in hindsight I now realise belong to a different age and different value system. Well time and time again I practiced the King Canute against the tides of economic change. I devoured my millions in misguidedly giving others a second chance. I should have taken note of the old maxim that the ‘first loss is the best loss’.

It is ironic that I am most often judged for my trading failures; failures in business which in the main had been raped by their past proprietors.

I recall in the mid 1980s attending a creditors meeting and being accused of single handily having wiped out the Scottish knitwear industry. I admit to having bought up over thirty Scottish Border knitwear companies, but all when I acquired them were already either in liquidation or receivership.

I give some examples:

Referring back to the A Hall business above, based in the Scottish Borders. In 1982 this was a woollen spinning mill which had kept pace with the times better than most in that the average age of the plant was but sixty years. This compared well for the Scottish Borders where one mill I purchased in the 1980s had an average plant age of 134 years. I found trade practices worst than labour practices. Even if the economic tide had not shifted where was the hope when owners and government flatly refused re-investment? I put over £600,000 cash back into the A Hall business but I was unable to make up for the lost years and changing economy. The business has closed but part of the property still belongs to my wife.

Referring back to the Twomax business above, based in Glasgow. As a knitwear company this was regarded as one of Scotland’s jewels. By Scottish standards huge investment had been made and there was a great deal of recently purchased plant. I admit to making a sizeable sum selling off some of the better items of plant. I was criticised but why? Manufacturers then, as many are probably now, were blind. The new equipment was nothing more and nothing less than issuing a bunch of scribes’ new sets of quill pens and desks and then asking them to compete with a girl using a modern computer. Indeed I remember sitting in the Treasurer’s office in Glasgow District Council in 1984. I was so disgusted with their narrow mindedness that I gave them back the £50,000 they had lent me for industrial generation in crushed one pound notes. (I dropped the money on his desk whereupon many of the screwed up pound note balls fell onto the floor, I understand I created two jobs for two days when the Treasurer’s staff attempted to count this money).Why Glasgow District was grumpy was simply that in my re-constituted company I had not created the jobs which they thought would be the necessary corollary of investment. In short I had installed at great capital expense the most modern robotic knitting machines in the world; eight such machines run by one man shifts could produce twice as much knitwear as the old factory with a staff of 500.

Yes, it was my view, and it may have been possible then to have stemmed that economic tide. With technology Britain could have once again been the ‘Workshop of the World’. But such a vision was dependant upon politicians being commercial astute and being free of restrictive legal ‘toilet’ training.

I give a further example of governmental stupidity. In 1985 I purchased the U.K.’s largest nut and bolt manufacturer. Relatively speaking the plant and machinery was new and the business was well run by anybodies standards. The problem was one could purchase from the Far East finished nuts and bolts cheaper than we could purchase the raw steel. Grazier still when we attempted to buy Far Eastern steel which could have made us competitive, tariffs upped the price above U.K. steel. Politicians at their best had simply closed us down. I regret I sold much of the plant to Taiwan.

The above said I am far from being a saint. I will relate elsewhere some of my episodes, some funny some sad. Yes, I do have a dark side. When my reconstituted A Hall & Son eventually went into liquidation it was discovered that I was the only realistic purchaser for I had indirectly retained a ransom strip around the circumference of the mill. Thus if the mill was sold any new buyer only had access by helicopter. Needless to say I bought the mill back from the Nat West for £30,000 and the bank took a bath for £320,000. I should be ashamed of myself, but I wasn’t for by then my second cousin Tom Frost had reached the elevated heights of managing director in the bank. I thought it was poetic justice that he be embarrassed considering the family’s treatment of my father.

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7. Trouble with the police.

I was brought up to respect the police and regard them as one of the main bastions which our society could depend upon. Over the years I have done my best to assist the police and on a number of occasions I have physically come to their rescue. The following  link takes you to a certificate for my bravery  in physically aiding the police in a petrol station hold up, with two villains using base ball bats. Subsequently one of the baseball bat villains attempted to sue me for his physical injury caused by my failure to warn him, as he said, that I was a trained killer.

As an aside there were four instances when I physically went to the assistance of police officers. It is not the advice which I would give to others but I was fortunate in having a good physique and unarmed combat training from childhood. (My father instituted such basic training in the commandos and was inter alia commissioned to set up the first jungle warfare school in India; once I excelled in such martial techniques).

My fall out with the police, the Lothian and Borders Scottish police, started in 1980. The manager of the Bank of Scotland Lauder branch reported me to his local police office for the theft of some £9,000 which I had allegedly obtained from his branch via deception. A zealot of a police woman from the Lothian & Borders fraud squad commenced a crusade against this ‘perfidious denizen from Albion’.

Despite my protestations I was charged with fraud and the Bank of Scotland instituted debt court action against me in the Court of Session, Edinburgh. The Procurator Fiscal (an intermediary officer between the police and the court) decided that I didn’t have a case to answer; the Bank of Scotland upon reviewing their paper work found that after due allowances were made I was in credit, the bank thus abandoned their case and I secured a court decree of Absolvitor.

Was I left in peace? No, I had been judged guilty by the police and I had to be stopped. My zealot police friend then went out of her way, as she saw it, to bring me to justice. The more I appeared to prosper the more she determined that I was succeeding in my wrong doing. She informed more and more folk of my purported criminality.

Let me be precise.

After I bought Langlands Mill above in 1982 I refinanced the A Hall business and had a grand re-opening ceremony overseen by Mr David Steel MP. It was a televised function. Members and officers of Borders Council were invited because their headquarters were across the road. All declined upon the advice of the chief executive who in turn had been informed by my police zealot that I was about to be jailed on account of theft from the Bank of Scotland. Furthermore, the chief executive was advised that the very mill purchase was under investigation as it appeared I had stolen the mill’s purchase consideration and had duped the Nat West Bank who was now funding me. See my article  How I made some money  for my methodology of purchase of A Hall and Langlands Mill.

However, the police zealot did not stop there. Similar tales were related both to the Inland Revenue and Customs & Excise. So much so, that the Customs & Excise at first refused to give the A Hall business a VAT number. VAT had been informed by the police that the business was likely soon to shut down and the VAT application was probably but part of a long scam for me to get my hands on VAT refundables which I didn’t deserve. A. Hall suppliers and my bankers, the Nat West were given similar stories.

I think the poor zealot lady had an apoplectic fit when I bought Twomax, as per my article  How I made some money. Again she didn’t understand. This time she excelled herself and upon the morning of Glasgow’s Council’s civic reception for me (on account of my new investment into the City) the reception, the press, TV, guests etc were all cancelled because the Council had just learnt from Lothian & Borders Fraud squad that I had purchased Twomax with stolen money and I was soon to be jailed.

Did matters stop here? No, my zealot friend acquired further zealots not just in the police but now in the Revenue and Customs & Excise. Bluntly put, they just could not understand the simple way I purchased companies as I explain in  How I made some money.  In short I just had to be a crook.

I have been in bank manager’s offices when the manager has received a call from Lothian & Borders Fraud squad to advise him that I was under investigation. That this call was ‘off the record’ but they thought it was their public duty to advise him. And yes, if he had any information or could perhaps supply any bank statements on the quiet they would keep such matters confidential.

The Lothian & Borders fraud squad were nothing if not persistent. The following are financial institutions they spoke in similar terms to the above: Allied Irish Bank; Barclays Bank; the Bank of Scotland; the Clydesdale Bank; the Bank of Ireland: Lloyds Bank; the Midland Bank; the Nat West Bank; the Royal Bank of Scotland; the Yorkshire Bank; Arbuthnot Factors; Alex Lawrie; and the Bank of Boston, and these are only the ones which informed me.

Did the Lothian & Borders Police stop with financial institutions? Well of course not. In 1986 I was planning a £10 million investment into County Durham. Then the chief executive of the Development Authority summoned me to his office because he had received a phone call from Lothian & Borders Fraud squad. I bought one new factory there but thereafter curtailed my interest as the Lothian & Borders police call had soured the relationship. No less than seven, to my knowledge, local authorities were contacted by Lothian & Borders police force in this manner between 1982 and 1991.

When all the above failed to ruin me the Lothian & Borders Fraud squad directly started contacting my senior executives. I had no less than three board meetings prompted by Lothian & Borders bad mouthing. It is not the happiest way to run a company with nefarious stories ebbing down from one’s most senior executives.

Finally, the Lothian & Borders Fraud squad struck lucky with the DTI. I then, as narrated above, had seven full investigations which froze my assets and effectively terminated my business career. The amazing thing is that the DTI not only has immunity from prosecution but the most draconian summary powers.

I believe in all honesty I can say that I have had more DTI investigations against me than any other person since such legislation begun. It must have cost millions. I was never charged or cautioned, just financially ruined. Elsewhere I deal in detail with this saga in my life.

Having accomplished their perceived wish to render me ineffective you might have thought that the Lothian & Borders Police might have let me disappear into obscurity in peace. No such chance. I managed another first when it appears that due to an administrative error I was arrested for a non offence. I was imprisoned overnight, brought up before Edinburgh Sheriff Court but immediately released with apologies. To this day I do not know whether it was the police fully to blame or a daft or malicious Procurator Fiscal.

When I complained about Mr Ian Smith,  see the Lady Smith link , I received a Sunday visitation from two of the most senior police officers that Lothian & Borders could muster. I gained the distinct impression that not only was I being leaned on but it was I who was seen to be the evil one. They gave Ian Smith a clean bill of health; well they would, wouldn’t they. What did infuriate me was that Ian Smith then boasted to his family that he was untouchable and he would sort me.

In recent years there has been no let up from what I perceive as bias policing against me. A number of incidents come to mind but the one with the Horseshoe Gallery will suffice as an example. This originated as a trade dispute between me and Mr McNamara against the Horseshoe Gallery. It is agreed between all the parties that the Horseshoe Gallery was commissioned to restore a painting. My grouse is that the Horseshoe Gallery restored the painting in the style of a different artist thereby reducing the paintings value; I have also counterclaimed against the Horseshoe Gallery re: a forced entry in to Edenside House by Mrs Stirling and the personal assault and breakages therein caused by her. The Horseshoe Gallery deny all, including their invasion of Edenside House.

I can understand when people make mistakes. We all do. However, it is knowingly wrong to lie. I now believe that with regard to me the police are not just bending the truth but deliberately lying.

I have reached the reluctant conclusion that the Lothian & Borders police are a corrupt body. It appears that the cronyism of Edinburgh’s legal and judicial system is contagious. It also perhaps explains why previous Chief Constables heeded the request from our senior judges not to publicly release the police’s damming reports such as ‘Blackmail and our ‘Gay Judges’’ and the ‘Fettesgate affair’. That said I understand that private copies of these and other critical reports are shortly to be published by Mrs Eirlys Lloyd of Abercromby Place, Edinburgh. So perhaps the truth will appear.

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8. The demise of Homo Sapiens