< BACK Page 3 of 3   THE HENRY X FILE More darkly still, Alexander hinted at changes to Azadehdel's immediate future: "Previously, I have discussed these matters with members of the Central Intelligence Agency and National Security Agency. I considered going to the State Department and having them ask the British Government to intervene. While [Azadehdel's] requests may be within legal bounds, he has asserted he wants access to information he believes to be classified. I have learned that the CIA has asked both British Intelligence and the police to assist in resolving problems with Azadehdel."   Soon afterwards, the burglaries began and British Telecom, along with the mysterious engineers with their ominous grey vans and bogus ID cards, moved in. A few months later, on 14 July 1994, Henry and his wife were arrested and charged by Nottingham's finest.   The scene in the courtroom is a study in body language. Sandwiched between an incident of head-butting, the alleged theft of six pairs of underpants and a further count of Actual Bodily Harm - the flotsam of a Nottingham weekend - stands Henry proudly with his wife and co-defendant... the magistrate raising her eyebrows as she reviews the charges. Henry, shifting his weight from foot to foot, resolutely shakes his head as each is read out: "That on the 14th of July 1994 you obtained the provision of a telephone line by deception", an unpaid bill of £3,762, "...and 18p" adds the clerk.   As we watch, three similar charges are put to the pair regarding unpaid phone accounts over four years, each obtained under a different name - 'Senkowski', 'Zakar', 'Smith' - and at two separate addresses, totalling almost £10,000... the prosecution alleging that collection notices were returned marked 'Not at This Address' or 'Gone Away'. Henry shakes his head once more: "Not guilty!"   Later, outside, Azadehdel pulls a notebook and a pen from his raincoat pocket - it's a British Telecom pen and he clicks it at us. "I'm a journalist too," he winks. It's good to talk. "You don't believe all that do you?" he asks, to an uncomfortable silence as we walk towards the exit.   Even his solicitor looks squeamish. It is really none of our business that Henry had written 'cleaner' as an occupation on his arrest report. We huddle in the foyer, as Henry's wife leaves for work. "It's a set up," whispers the accused, his solicitor nodding.   So who's setting you up? "You tell me?" MI5? I guess, wildly. "Of course," replies Henry, "..and Six!" And the CIA? I ask, having just received the response to my own FOIA request for the Agency's information on 'Armen Victorian', 'Alan Jones', 'Cassava N'Tumba' and others. The CIA reply simply referred me to one man, "a person identified as Henry Azadehdel."   And the Aviary? The brief looked bemused. "Hah! The Aviary," sneered his client - a reaction I took as confirmation that this most intriguing of UFO conspiracy stories was, yes, strictly for the birds. When I raised the curious matter of N'Tumba and the London MP [see panel], Henry shrugged his shoulders in denial but sprang to life at the theme: "I am being persecuted ... persecuted" he said, sounding much like N'Tumba himself.   He went on to describe an intricate relationship between the Security Services - who, he was convinced, had engineered his troubles - and British Telecom. Surely BT can't be involved, I asked, perhaps naively "They are being manipulated," answered Henry, "either wittingly or unwittingly, who knows?"   Slowly I realised that the sheer unlikelihood of Azadehdel's story formed the essence of its brilliance as a defence. I tried to imagine what a jury might make of it. I remembered the letter seized as evidence at the time of Henry's arrest, which advised him to "leave a false paper trail" - thereby confusing the police - and to join the Labour Party. Lobster editor Robin Ramsey, who wrote the letter, told journalists that Azadehdel had been "set up and harassed in a very obvious and crude way. He's done remarkable things using the FOIA, and it's not surprising that they want to shut him down."   In January 1995, Henry's plight was taken up by his local MP, Labour's media aficionado Graham Allen, and Maurice Frankel, Director of the Campaign for Freedom of Information, who carried it as far as the Security Services Tribunal. Allen wrote to the Tribunal Secretary complaining of "mail tampering and phone tapping", while Frankel told The Observer he was worried about the implications of British Intelligence and police involvement.   By now, having convinced so many people, Henry was on a roll. "Think about it," he pleaded, referring to the break-ins: "Why didn't they touch my TV and video, or my hi-fi, and why was there no sign of entry?" I thought about it but had to ask; if only for the record: What sort of documents were they? "My computer files,'' he answered, "and all my research and financial records."   I found myself liking Henry, like so many others touched by his persuasiveness, and enjoying the test of my credulity. I felt no malice. Even his widely-circulated story of my allegiance to the imaginary 'Second Church of Satan' and his warning to all that I "carry a long knife with me at all times", just seems amusing now, no matter how many times it's repeated on the Internet.   Henry's further claim that my friend, Jim Schnabel - the American student at Lincoln College, Oxford - is a fanatical Jesuit, shackled by spiked leg irons to the CIA, was even more hilarious. Surely this unlikely portrait of a duo of supra-national G-men was meant to be taken that way? Now I understood the full meaning of "alacrity", for I could hear the not-too-distant sound of Customs men laughing. I began not to mind that this anarchic, green-fingered, devilishly photogenic ex-diplomat - a true Renaissance man - might simply be having a joke on us all.   To my final question - whether he'd like to join us for a cup of tea at a nearby cafe - Henry offered no wild stories of excuse. He simply smiled and waved good-bye, vanishing into the Nottingham trade.   POSTSCRIPT Orchid smuggling: Charged under the name Azadehdel, Henry pleaded guilty and received a one year sentence and a hefty fine. After six weeks in Pentonville prison, Henry successfully appealed at the Old Bailey; his fine was reduced and his sentenced reduced to time served.   Telephone account deception: Henry was charged under the name Armen Victorian. After a series of committal hearings, the Crown Prosecution Service discontinued their action against him. His wife, who admitted the charges at the time of her arrest, was committed to Nottingham Crown Court where she pleaded guilty to three counts of deception. She received two concurrent conditional discharges of 12 months.   Complaint to the Security Services TribunaI: It was recently reported (1996) that, since its inception, all complaints put before the Tribunal have been overruled.   This is an extended version of an article first published in Fortean Times magazine. (FT 90 - Sep 96)   < BACK   ^ TOP