Read Extradited for Free Online Page A

the case of Matthew Cryer – a seventeen-year-old boy who was killed in Zante in 2008. Many witnesses had seen a nightclub security guard kick him down a flight of stairs and beat him to death, leaving him in the street in a pool of blood. The family of Matthew Cryer haveaccused the Zante police of covering up the killing after refusing to open a murder inquiry. The police officers had stated that he had been drinking and choked on his own vomit, but a British pathologist had later reported that he had bruises on his body that were fatal. These police officers were from the same police station where Chris and Charlie were beaten and a case was manufactured to implicate me as a killer. John Jones argued that extraditing me based on evidence obtained by torture meant that I could not be guaranteed a fair trial, which was a breach of my human rights.
    The final argument was probably our weakest. John felt that we should also argue my discharge on the grounds of ‘passage of time’. I was a suspect from 24 July 2007 and was arrested almost a year later, on 26 June 2008 (which wasn’t really a substantial amount of time, but why not?).
    Due to the EAW we were forced to fight on these technicalities. Even though I could prove my innocence, a British court had no power to consider any of it. We were pleased with the skeleton argument, but were praying that the court would allow the adjournment. We needed to find out if the South Wales Police statements would strengthen our argument.

    Later that day, my mum, sister and my auntie Teresa took me to buy a new suit. I remember picking one out and having to get a far bigger size because I’d been eating so much. As we were about to pay, the woman behind the till said, ‘Aren’t you lucky, they’re spoiling you today! What’s the occasion? A wedding? A prom?’ It was quite an awkward moment, and we looked at each other, not really knowing how to answer her question.
    ‘Not a wedding, unfortunately,’ my mum said. I rememberleaving the shop and a girl I knew from school happened to approach me. The first thing she said was, ‘You know, everything will be OK.’ I don’t think she realised how much I appreciated her saying that – and I hoped that she was right.
    There was a nervous tension in my house the night before the hearing. I wasn’t nervous about appearing in court, as John Jones was confident that the hearing would be adjourned. What I was more nervous about was the protest and the fact that there was a chance it might be televised on BBC News. I received several text messages from school and university friends, all wishing me the best of luck – many of whom told me that they would be coming to the protest. Every time I read the texts, I felt my heart flutter. Of course I appreciated the support greatly, but I wished that it wasn’t happening in the first place.
    I sat down on one of the sofas in the living room with a group of my best friends playing on my PlayStation. Tony patted me on the shoulder. ‘You feeling all right? You feeling ready, yeah?’
    ‘Course I’m ready, no problem,’ I lied.
    We all ended up talking about funny memories from school and from when we were young. We’d all grown up together; some of us had even known each other from the age of four. In that moment I had a warm sense of contentment. The ‘adults’ sat on the stools that surround the kitchen island unit, having a chat. My sister and all of my cousins were watching EastEnders in the conservatory. I had my friends, my family, my girlfriend, my cousins, grandparents, aunties and uncles – I had everyone around who meant the most to me. With them I felt as though I could endure anything.

6
----
THE PROTEST
----
    T he day we had been waiting for had finally arrived. After hearing the dreaded date spoken about over and over again for the past twelve days, I couldn’t believe that the screen on my mobile phone said ‘Monday 7 July’. I woke up naturally at 6 a.m. after a