‘I have no idea what you mean,’ said Kenny innocently.
‘You know exactly what I mean,’ said the Chief Inspector. ‘This place is full of expensive jewellery, paintings, objets d’art and antique furniture’ - around PS3
00,000-worth, Kenny would have liked to have told him - ‘and I don’t believe any of it belongs to you.’
‘Then you’ll have to prove it, Chief Inspector, because should you fail to do so, the law assumes that it belongs to me. And that being the case, I will be able to dispose of it as I wish.’ The Chief Inspector frowned, informed Kenny of his rights and arrested him for theft.
When Kenny next appeared in court, it was at the Old Bailey, in front of a judge. Kenny was dressed appropriately for the occasion in a pinstriped suit, white shirt and Guards tie. He stood in the dock charged with the theft of goods to the value of PS24,000.
The police had made a complete inventory of everything they found in the flat, and spent the next six months trying to trace the owners of the treasure trove. But despite advertising in all the recognised journals, and even showing the stolen goods extensively on television’s Crimewatch, as well as putting them on display for the public to view, over 80 per cent of the items remained unclaimed.
Chief Inspector Travis tried to bargain with Kenny, saying he would recommend a lenient sentence if he would cooperate and reveal who the property belonged to.
‘It all belongs to me,’ repeated Kenny.
‘If that’s going to be your game, don’t expect any help from us,’ said the Chief Inspector.
Kenny hadn’t expected any help from Travis in the first place. It had never been part of his original plan.
Kenny had always believed that if you penny-pinch when it comes to selecting a lawyer, you could well end up paying dearly for it. So when he stood in the dock he was represented by a leading firm of solicitors and a silky barrister called Arden Duveen, QC, who wanted PS10,000 on his brief.
Kenny pleaded guilty to the indictment, aware that when the police gave evidence they would be unable to mention any of the goods that had remained unclaimed, and which the law therefore assumed belonged to him. In fact, the police had already reluctantly returned the property that they were unable to prove had been stolen, and Kenny had quickly passed it on to a dealer for a third of its value, compared with the tenth he had been offered by a fence six months before.
Mr Duveen, QC, defending, pointed out to the judge that not only was it his client’s first offence, but that he had invited the police to accompany him to his home, well aware that they would discover the stolen goods and that he would be arrested. Could there be better proof of a repentant and remorseful man, he asked.
Mr Duveen went on to point out to the court that Mr Merchant had served nine years in the armed services, and had been honourably discharged following active service in the Gulf, but that since leaving the army he seemed unable to settle down to civilian life. Mr Duveen did not claim this as an excuse for his client’s behaviour, but he wished the court to know that Mr Merchant had vowed never to commit such a crime again, and therefore pleaded with the judge to impose a lenient sentence.
Kenny stood in the dock, his head bowed.
The judge lectured him for some time on how evil his crime had been, but added that he had taken into consideration all the mitigating circumstances surrounding this case, and had settled on a prison sentence of two years.
Kenny thanked him, and assured him that he would not be bothering him again. He knew that the next crime he had planned could not end up with a prison sentence.
Chief Inspector Travis watched as Kenny was taken down, then, turning to the prosecuting counsel, asked, ‘How much do you imagine that bloody man has made by keeping to the letter of the law?’
‘About a hundred thousand would be my bet,’ replied the Crown’s silk.
‘More than I’d be able to put by in a lifetime,’ the Chief Inspector commented, before uttering a string of words that no one present felt able to repeat to their wives over dinner that evening.
Prosecuting counsel was not far out. Kenny had deposited a cheque at the Hongkong and Shanghai Bank earlier that week for PS86,000.
What the Chief Inspector couldn’t know was that Kenny had completed only half of his plan, and that now the seed money was in place, he was ready to prepare for an early retirement. Before he was taken away to prison, he made one further request of his solicitor.
While Kenny was holed up in Ford Open Prison he used his time well. He spent every spare moment going over various Acts of Parliament that were currently being debated in the House of Commons. He quickly dismissed several Green Papers, White Papers and Bills on health, education and the social services, before he came across the Data Protection Bill, each clause of which he set about studying as assiduously as any Member of the House of Commons at the report stage of the Bill. He followed each new amendment that was placed before the House, and each new clause as it was passed. Once the Act had become law in 1992, he sought a further interview with his solicitor.
The solicitor listened carefully to Kenny’s questions and, finding himself out of his depth, admitted he would have to seek counsel’s opinion. ‘I will get in touch with Mr Duveen immediately,’ he said.
While Kenny waited for his QC’s judgement, he asked to be supplied with copies of every business magazine published in the United Kingdom.
The solicitor tried not to look puzzled by this request, as he had done when he had been asked to supply every Act of Parliament currently being debated in the House of Commons. During the next few weeks, bundles and bundles of magazines arrived at the prison, and Kenny spent all his spare time cutting out any advertisements that appeared in three magazines or more.
A year to the day after Kenny had been sentenced, he was released on parole following his exemplary behaviour. When he walked out of Ford Open Prison, having served only half his term, the one thing he took with him was a large brown envelope containing three thousand advertisements and the written opinion of leading counsel on clause 9, paragraph 6, subsection (a) of the Data Protection Act 1992.
A week later, Kenny took a flight to Hong Kong.
The Hong Kong police reported back to Chief Inspector Travis that Mr Merchant had booked into a small hotel, and spent his days visiting local printers, seeking quotes for the publication of a magazine entitled Business Enterprise UK, and the retail price of headed notepaper and envelopes. The magazine, they quickly discovered, would contain a few articles on finance and shares, but the bulk of its pages would be taken up with small advertisements.
The Hong Kong police confessed themselves puzzled when they discovered how many copies of the magazine Kenny had ordered to be printed.