When I addressed the Appellate Court on December 3, 1992, ten days after the denial of my parole, I told the panel of three judges of the deceptive offer given to me by my lawyer, which I believed was done in collusion with the Crown Attorney. Then I shared with the court the deceptive writings that had been put into the forensic report by the social worker and used by the sentencing judge. Madam Justice Southin, one of the three panelists (who deserves praise as the most honorable of the six judges who heard my case through two Appellate Court hearings) quickly responded.

Hearing my condemnation of the social worker’s character assassination, she asked Crown Prosecutor, Carol Baird, why the forensic document I had just mentioned was not in the evidence bag given to the court: “Where is the forensic report the sentencing judge looked at?” Madam Justice asked. “It’s not here. If it was used as evidence in the case, it should be in the bag.”

Justice Southin suggested to Ms. Baird that it was possible that the degrading innuendo I had talked about, had been highlighted instead of edited. She then demanded that Ms. Baird have the document presented to the court at a new hearing set for February 25, 1993, a date in which the court offered to pay for counsel on my behalf.

Arriving at the Supreme Court on Smithe Street in downtown Vancouver some two-and a-half months later, I was secured in a basement holding cell. My governement assisted lawyer, Adrian Brooks, (who had talked to me only once through the delay, entered the holding area and addressed me from outside the bars.

“It appears Crown Counsel doesn’t want you in the courtroom and has asked the bench to bar you from the hearing,” Brooks said.

“What,” I said, shocked by the unexpected possibiltiy that I would not be allowed to attend my own hearing.

“The court is considering the request,” Brooks cautioned, “but I have spoken to the matter, and they will allow you up if you promise not to speak. If you interrupt, they will have the sheriff bring you back down to the cells.”

“I thought I had already been granted the right to attend my hearing?”

“Well, yes, and you’re here. That’s something. Almost no prisoner is allowed at these hearings. In fact, most have to remain at their institutions during the proceedings.” Brooks shuffled nervously, “So, although you’re here, the prosecution has requested that you not be allowed into the courtroom. But, what I’m saying is, if I can go back up and promise the bench that you will not speak or disrupt the proceedings, they will allow you to sit in on the hearing, based on the fact that you represented youself earlier.”

The lack of any in-depth discussion with this man had me worried. There had been no mention or discussion about my not being able to speak at this second hearing. But it was clear that I had no choice but to comply.

“Okay,” I said reluctantly, “It looks like I have no choice.”

Twenty minutes later I was escorted to the upper levels of the courthouse and placed into a small holding area, where Adrian Brooks handed me a photo-copy of the Forensic Report. Portions were lined-out in black felt, and he asked if I could read it? The streaks looked recent, and I saw the lettering underneath, and when I told Brooks that I should really be looking at the original, he said it was likely a similiar photo-copy of the report that the sentencing judge had looked at, then left ahead of me, taking the copy with him.

Minutes after Books left, I was escorted into the courtroom and shocked to see three new judges staring down at me from the bench. Justice Southin was nowhere to be seen. Seated, I listened to Carol Baird launch into an agressive attack on my character, bolstered by a malicously manufactured correctional document from the Ferdale Institution. When she was finished, almost out of breath, she asked the court to raise my sentence from three-and-a-half years…to five.

Adrian Brooks, rising, read a prepared statement that, without rebuttal, was filled with a lot of meaningless retoric with little substance. He made no mention of the manupulated plea-bargain or the social worker’s dishonest character assassination inserted into the forensic report. There was no attempt made to show in depth, Dr. Dilli’s summary and conclusion, and his assessement on the mitigating circumstances surrounding my emotion state leading up to, during, and after the assault. It, as it had been at sentencing, was left on the cutting room floor. (Brooks also stayed silent on a phone call I had made to Dr. Dilli, where the doctor had made it clear that it was social worker Marc Leblanc who had authored the forensic report, the exception being the psychiatrist’s summary and conclusion)

Bringing the appeal to an end, the bench reserved judgement, saying it would forward a decision in two weeks. Led from the courtroom, amongst numbing laughter, I heard a gleeful, “It’s done!”

Two weeks later I received the court’s decision, informing me that my request for a reduction in sentence had been denied. The extent of events that happened inside and outside the courthouse on February 25, 1993, is highlighted in “Poor Man’s Justice.” Chapter eight, titled, “The Midnight Run,”

On April 5, 20023, doing research for my book thirty years later, I had the file for my appeal pulled from the Appellate Court registry. Despite Justice Mary Southin’s demand that the Forensic Report be forwarded to the court, which was acknowledged in other court documents; the report was not in the file. When I asked if I could listen to the tape made of the first hearing, I was told no recording’s existed.

However, in the file I found the court’s reasons for its denial of my appeal. Written by the panelists who sat on the bench at the second hearing, this in part, is what was put into the record: “We are indebted to both Mr. Brooks and Ms. Baird for their helpful submissions. Mr. Mitchell has been well served.” “Mr. Mitchell was present throughout the appeal.” (No mention of the demand that I be silent at the second hearing while under threat of being held in basement cells during the hearing) The judges wording, designed to portray grace and civility on the part of the court, highlights the manipulative power and control the justice system has over what the public reads and hears.

Note: The deception exposed in this case could not have happened if a signed plea-bargain had been in existence.

The deception and manipulation by steward’s of the justice system continued through several contentious civil court hearing that stretched into the early 2000’s. …More to come!