Pair of soldiers who plotted to sell cannabis are spared jail
Two serving British Army soldiers who plotted to sell more than £8,000 worth of cannabis have avoided jail.
When police arrested one of the soldiers, he phoned his wife telling her to get rid of a bag.
But officers spotted her trying to hide a holdall full of cannabis in a hedgerow, the court heard.
Sentencing the duo at Westminster Magistrates' Court, chief magistrate Paul Goldspring said their offending had been driven by 'greed'.
After the judge previously ruled they could not be named because of national security concerns, the pair were referred to only as Defendant X and Defendant Y.
The hearing was conducted in a closed court with the public excluded and the soldiers sat behind a screen in the dock.
The duo, whose unit can also not be revealed, admit being concerned in the making of an offer to supply the class B drug between November 23 2023 and November 28 2023.
Defendant Y further admitted having cannabis on November 30 2023 with intent to supply, while Defendant X pleaded guilty to being in possession of the drug on the same date.
Judge Goldspring told them: 'You have led exemplary lives as soldiers.
'You have served us with great valour, bravery and fortitude.
'The reason for this offending is plain and simple: greed.
'That creates a paradox'.
Defendant X was handed a 10-month suspended sentence, and Defendant Y an eight-month suspended sentence.
The judge said he believed the the soldiers' remorse is 'genuine' and spared them from an immediate custody term.
Frederick Hookway, prosecuting, said that after being arrested, Defendant Y, who has served for more than 20 years, asked to phone his wife from the police station, claiming that his daughter was unwell.
'He instructed his wife to dispose of a bag and not to ask any questions,' the court heard.
But police were watching the house using a drone, and spotted his wife carrying a 'holdall that she then attempted to hide'.
Defendant Y 'fell in with the wrong crowd' after what had been an impressive military career, the court heard.
DNA profiles matching both X and Y were found on the holdall, Mr Hookway said.
The quantity of cannabis found in Defendant Y's possession was 997 grams, which had a street value of £10,000, the prosecutor added.
Defendant X was found with 33.47 grams, the court heard.
The court was told that Defendant X's mental health had declined after he became injured.
Messages between the pair showed them discussing selling the cannabis, Mr Hookway said.
They spoke of selling 2.3 kilos for £8,750, the court heard.
Defendant X also pleaded guilty to possessing articles for use in fraud relating to seven receipts for a Rolex Oyster Perpetual 41MM Jubilee watch.
He confirmed the receipts were fake and that he had intended to use them to sell a fake Rolex.
The soldiers were each ordered to pay £200 in costs.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Forbes
a day ago
- Forbes
Aston Martin 'Spy Car': Spy And Mistress Tour Europe Stealing War Plans
Now "Ulster bodied", this Aston Martin's wartime spy secrets can now be revealed. Tell me the plot, I say. "A British Army intelligence officer drives around Europe, just before World War 2, with his mistress, who's actually somebody else's wife and pretending she's Dutch, but really German," says retired construction company CEO Neil Pickstone. "They're masquerading as tourists in a 1935 Aston Martin, which has been fitted with secret compartments engineered by Aston and the Royal Automobile Club. "They befriend young, wealthy German army officers, steal German war plan documents, take photos of military installations, smuggling them back to Britain in those hidden compartments, and never get caught despite being stopped and the car being dismantled by the Gestapo." It sounds like a Netflix or Apple TV thriller. Except it's true, actually rather more extensive, and thoroughly documented, coming to light when two men from Cheshire, England, Pickstone and friend Simon Isles, bought the seen-better-days Aston in 2022. They'd been told the car was used to smuggle currency out of Nazi Germany, but became increasingly aware things didn't add up... Originally an Aston Martin Mark 2 Sports Saloon, the spy car chassis is retained under the "Ulster" ... More body. The car is now a faithful recreation of an "Ulster-bodied" 1930s Aston Martin race car. In the hands of British Army intelligence officer Robert William Fenton "Tony" Mellor it was a 1935 Aston Martin Mk2, but the original body way beyond repair. So Pickstone and Isles rebodied it, but retained its secrets. "Its original owner, Lieutenant, later Major, Mellor was born to a wealthy family. Come the threat of a second World War, back then there was no government budget for intelligence work. Much of it was self-funded by well-off military officers," said Pickstone. "Buying the Aston Martin in 1937, at 25, was a considered decision: in 1930s Germany, army officers were also from wealthy backgrounds. They enjoyed racing their cars, so when Mellor and mistress Ellen Magnee turned up in Germany in the the Aston, seemingly as rich tourists, German officers recognised it as a fast car and engaged in conversation; Mellor got to know them, taking opportunities to gather all sorts of intelligence". The only known image of Major Tony Mellor and his Aston Martin "spy car" comes out of storage. In parallel with deceiving German military officers, Mellor was developing close ties to the French Resistance. The Aston Martin became key to some of their missions, so appearances, especially during night-time car-bound exploits, were crucial. Fenton fitted Bosch headlights to replicate the look of a German staff car at night. He also stole a German military vehicle "exhaust whistle", diverted exhaust gasses sounding their imminent arrival at checkpoints, barriers lifted in advance, Mellor and his French Resistance passengers hurtling through at 80mph leaving guards little chance of spotting the night-time ruse. Such antics were just part of the documented story, archived in files that came with the Aston and in Mellor's Cheshire Regiment museum. "The car came with a story about helping Jewish people pre-war, smuggling silver and currency out of Germany," said Pickstone. "It came with the secret compartments, the altered exhaust, and all the bits and pieces that made it special. "But the story about smuggling currency was fabricated. This was a spy story." Pickstone and Isles knitted together Mellor's memoires, the car's history file and archived accounts of then-fellow officers to piece together an extraordinary tale. It also raised the question of why, when a senior officer spoke about recommending Major Mellor for the Victoria Cross (the highest military bravery honour) there was a resounding silence from then military chiefs. However, Mellor was awarded the Croix de Guerre with Vermilion Star for his contribution to the French war effort. One of the secret compartments, the large tube, in situ. The Gestapo missed its hidden secrets even ... More after dismantling the Aston. In the car's file is a letter from Aston Martin to Mellor. It notes his attendance at the Aston Martin factory where he was instructed in repair and maintenance of the car on his European "tours". "The letter to Mellor is for, whatever purpose, from Aston Martin to confirm he spent time working in the factory on his car. We believe it's to document what he'd allegedly been doing for six weeks while out of barracks. We believe he was actually designing secret compartments," said Pickstone. "The first modification was a cross tube on the chassis. It had a locking mechanism that couldn't be spotted unless you knew what you were looking for," said Isles. Meanwhile, the Royal Automobile Club provided a battery. It worked normally, but also had a hidden compartment. "Just pre-war he was travelling around Europe with Ellen Magnee and got stopped by the Gestapo. They stripped the car, but found nothing," says Pickstone."In the archives there's evidence he said it was a good job because he had the plans for the Siegfried Line hidden in the secret compartments." The restored German Army officer staff car exhaust whistle. Mellor Captures 500 German Soldiers On His Day Off While he left the Aston in Holland for much of the war, his antics continued. He was one of the first British soldiers onto Sicily in 1943 where he is believed to have had a brief dalliance with a local countess. But he was also part of the spearhead during 1944's Normandy landings. "Soon after he was granted 24 hours leave to see 'friends' in a nearby village. He took a wireless man, a jeep and a driver. We believe he was meeting a previous girlfriend, and to gather intel about what the Germans were doing," said Pickstone. "En route they came across the Eighth Army, parked up approaching a bridge where there was a report of a German Tiger tank which had destroyed several Allied tanks. The commander of the Sherman tank at the head of the column refused to go any further. "Mellor and a French freedom fighter went to have a look, but the 'Tiger' was just a tracked vehicle. They captured it, just as a German staff car appeared; the Sherman opens fire, the staff car crashes, and the occupants captured too. "More freedom fighters appeared and proceeded to capture 200 Germans in the woods, locked them in a barn while they went to help defend a nearby town, but ended up capturing 300 more German soldiers. 'They were terrified of the French, so wanted to surrender to a British officer. Mellor ended up capturing 500 Germans on his day off...' The question remains: was Major Mellor the inspiration for James Bond? While it's mainly Cheshire lanes that pass under the Aston's wheels these days, you wonder what other tales of derring-do war-time archives, due to be opened under the UK Government's "100 year rule" in the 2030s, could reveal. Major Mellor retired to an Oxfordshire village, but evidence remained of his past. Upon his passing, his cottage was sold, the new owners discovering a secret compartment in the basement, evidently designed to store the tools of a spy's trade. Asking Pickstone and Isles if they thought Mellor, a neighbour of 007 creator Ian Fleming, a fellow intelligence officer, was the basis for James Bond they simply said I should draw my own conclusions. I'll simply let you draw yours...


Miami Herald
2 days ago
- Miami Herald
Ex-Hialeah police chief bonds out, tells judge not guilty in public corruption caper
A tentative date was set for the public corruption trial of a former Hialeah police chief accused of abusing his position to steal hundreds of thousands of taxpayer dollars and confiscated drug money. Sergio Velazquez, whose nine-year term atop the city's police department was marred by a highly publicized sex scandal, was taken into custody by law enforcement just after driving away from his home Monday. He was charged with money laundering, grand theft and organized fraud. READ MORE: Ex-Hialeah police chief busted for stealing almost $600k from city coffers, state says The scheme, investigators said, involved the former chief depositing dozens of checks for just under $10,000 that were ordered from the city's finance department, into personal accounts controlled by him. They say he used the money to pay off credit card debt and purchase high-end Rolex watches and goods from Gucci and Versace. Velazquez, 61, wearing a red jail outfit and handcuffed, briefly appeared on Zoom before Miami-Dade Circuit Court Judge Mindy Glazer Tuesday morning and was released on a $30,000 bond that was posted by his wife. In an unusual move, he was quickly arraigned and pleaded not guilty to the charges. 'We enter a plea of not guilty on all three counts,' Velazquez's attorney Richard Diaz said during the hearing. Tentative trial date The plea was formalized before Miami-Dade Circuit Court Judge Zachary James on Wednesday morning and the judge set a tentative trial date of Sept. 8. State prosecutors usually take close to the three-week window permitted before filing formal charges and hearing a defendant's plea. Investigators say the thefts charged against Velazquez took place between May and November 2021 and totaled about $600,00. In total, close to $3.2 million in city money dating back to 2015 hasn't been accounted for and that additional charges could follow, the investigators said. The missing money controlled by Velazquez was supposed to go toward undercover narcotics operations. Investigators say it's a combination of money budgeted to the police department for special operations — which comes from the city's general fund — and money awarded to the city through a court order that was confiscated mostly during drug stings. Probe began shortly after 2021 dismissal Velazquez, who became chief in 2012, was relieved of duty by the city's new Mayor Esteban Bovo shortly after his November 2021 election victory. He was replaced by deputy chief George Fuente, whom investigators credited with helping FDLE and state prosecutors put the case together. His term as chief of Miami-Dade's second-largest city was marred by charges levied against Sgt. Jesus Menocal Jr., who eventually pleaded guilty and served a three-year sentence for using his badge to force women into having sex with him. Velazquez was heavily criticized for being too lenient with Menocal Jr. in that case and in one years earlier in which four women — one underage — accused Menocal Jr. of sexual assault. Velazquez rose through the ranks despite a slew of allegations against him that were never substantiated. FDLE once spent 18 months looking into what they called 'a pattern of criminal misconduct.' One of the cases involved the torching of a truck owned by a man who's ex-girlfriend had been dating Velazquez.
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Yahoo
Roger Cooper, British journalist jailed for five years in Iran whose sense of mischief kept him sane
Roger Cooper, who has died aged 90, was a British journalist and businessman who was arrested as a spy on a visit to Iran in December 1985 and spent more than five years in prison, under sentence of death. For most of that time he was incarcerated in the infamous Evin Prison in Tehran, often in solitary confinement. Nevertheless, he did not court sympathy when he was finally released: 'I can say that anyone who, like me, was educated in an English public school and served in the ranks of the British Army is quite at home in a Third World prison.' As with the incarceration of Terry Waite and his fellow British hostages in Lebanon over the same period, Cooper's plight became a cause célèbre, with frequent rumblings in the press about the outrageous detention of a British citizen in Iran on apparently non-existent evidence. It was Cooper's misfortune, however, that Mrs Thatcher's government had little room for manoeuvre in lobbying for his release. British-Iranian diplomatic relations had been at a low ebb following the Revolution of 1979 and then, just as they were improving, were further marred by the fatwa issued against Salman Rushdie by the Ayatollah Khomeini in 1989. Cooper had lived in Iran on and off for 20 years until the Revolution. He was working as sales and marketing manager of McDermott International, a US marine construction company, when he flew to Tehran in 1985 hoping to secure a contract for an oil pipeline. On December 7 he had just left his hotel in a taxi when it was cut up by a BMW Coupé: two men emerged and forced him to get in. 'What happened next seemed a blend of the Keystone Cops and the Theatre of the Absurd,' Cooper recalled. One of the men started berating the other for forgetting to bring a blindfold, until Cooper obligingly suggested that they could procure a bandage from a pharmacy and directed the men, unfamiliar with the local area, to the nearest one. Once blindfolded, he was transported to a prison and interrogated by a man who 'wore a close-fitting white mask over his face, with slits for the eyes… It is an image that has stayed with me ever since, regularly haunting my dreams and occurring in flashbacks during waking hours.' The man told Cooper: 'We know all about your espionage career in Iran, both before and after the Revolution. We know the outline, but there are some details which are very important to us… If you do not co-operate, you will stay here until you do, or until you die.' Cooper protested his innocence over the course of several weeks of interrogation, his captor insisting on remaining anonymous: 'If you ever see my face, even by accident, or even try to see it, I will push this pen in one of your ears and out of the other,' he declared on one occasion, waggling his ballpoint in Cooper's ear to underline his point. Cooper was blindfolded whenever he left his cell, even to walk a few yards to the toilet, which he was permitted to use only three times a day ('unless it's an emergency,' he was told, 'and we don't like emergencies'). In February 1987 Cooper was transferred to the notorious political prison in Evin, 10 miles from Tehran. 'Shouting and cries of pain are often heard,' Cooper recalled, 'only partly drowned out by religious chants and prayer ceremonies played endlessly on a tape recorder in the corridor.' He was ordered to provide his captors with a detailed run-down on key figures in British intelligence; having no knowledge of the subject, he invented a cast of personnel based on characters in the works of Evelyn Waugh, including a Secret Service legend called Colonel Dick Hooker, inspired by Waugh's Brigadier Ritchie-Hook. He amused himself in his cell by composing a poem: 'Brigadier Ritchie-Hook/ Is a character in a book./ My Colonel Dick Hooker/ Should have won me the Booker.' Cooper was told that he would be released if he agreed to share his insights in a television broadcast: 'This is going to be the most interesting programme on television for a long time,' his interrogator told him after the recording. 'You were very good.' The deal was abandoned, however, after his captors came across a report on the broadcast in The Guardian, pointing out that Cooper had been blatantly spoofing. In October 1987 Cooper was taken to the prison courtroom and tried. The judge, who spent most of the trial reading the newspaper, told him: 'As regards the verdict, that is obvious from the start, but it has to be typed out and that can take time.' Cooper was not informed of the outcome of the trial, but his father wrote to him to say that he had read in The Daily Telegraph that he was to be sentenced to death. Having formed a friendship with the prison governor, Cooper eventually prevailed on him to provide details and was told that he had received two sentences: death and 10 years' imprisonment. 'I asked him, 'Which comes first?' He looked puzzled for a moment, then said, 'Ah, I see, yes, a good question. I will recommend that they keep you here for 10 years and then hang you.' I replied: 'Please don't make it the other way round.'' Nevertheless, Cooper was eventually released in April 1991, and in 1994 he published a memoir, Death and Ten Years. 'Like him, his book is eccentric and erudite and very funny,' noted the BBC's John Simpson, an old friend of Cooper's, in the Telegraph. 'But its chief value is as a manual to show how a terrifying experience can be overcome triumphantly… Roger Cooper was not a man whom threats or violence could break. His interrogators had all the power, and he had all the character. Character won.' John Roger Sutherland Cooper was born in London on January 29 1935, the son of James Cooper and his wife Rosaleen, née Graves, who were both doctors. Rosaleen was the sister of the poet and novelist Robert Graves; as Roger recalled, 'Uncle Robert had a good baritone voice, at its best, I thought, singing slightly bawdy songs… to the embarrassment of my rather old-fashioned mother.' Robert Graves would die, by macabre coincidence, on the day his nephew was arrested in Iran in 1985. Roger grew up in Devon and won scholarships to Clifton College and to St John's College, Oxford, where he read modern languages. In 1956 he travelled to Budapest to observe the Hungarian Revolution, and returned with three fellow undergraduates the following year to deliver supplies of penicillin. He experienced his first taste of a foreign prison when they were arrested on espionage charges and held for two weeks. On their release they were interviewed for the BBC by Woodrow Wyatt, who rebuked them for having been 'larking about', and Roger was subsequently sent down from Oxford. He secured a BA in English, French and classical Persian literature as an external student of London University. His gift for languages saw him assigned to the Russian interpreter's course during his National Service with the Army. After training as a journalist at the Toronto bureau of United Press, in 1958 he decided to pursue a long-held fascination with Persian culture and travelled to Iran. He lived there on and off for two decades while working variously as a journalist, teacher and interpreter. In 1960 he married an Iranian woman, Guity Habibian, and converted to Islam; they had a daughter, but were divorced in 1965. Some of Cooper's articles for The New Statesman on human rights abuses earned him unwelcome attention from Savak, the secret police, but the Shah admired his eloquence sufficiently to hire him as a speechwriter. Cooper secured the final press interview with the Shah before the Revolution forced his exile in 1979. Cooper decided that he too was better off out of Iran after the Revolution, but made frequent return visits in the 1980s in his new role as a consultant, using his knowledge of the Middle East to aid international firms keen to do business in the region. Following his arrest in 1985, he found his time in solitary confinement in his two-by-three-metre cell rather restful, and was annoyed when the British government successfully lobbied for him to be spared this psychological ordeal and housed with the other prisoners. He became proficient at Persian crosswords: 'the guards would always call, 'Cooper, what's 10 across?'' On more than one occasion a guard summarily told him that it was time for his death sentence to be enacted, released the safety catch on his revolver and pulled the trigger – with the gun being empty. But Cooper refused to be cowed by such sadistic pranks and enjoyed teasing the guards. His calculator was taken away and examined after one of the guards suggested that it might contain a secret radio transmitter; after it was returned, Cooper would periodically shout into it: 'Hello! Hello! Mrs Thatcher? Hello? I have a message. Jaffar is on duty in prison today.' After nearly five and a half years, Cooper's incarceration came to an abrupt end: on April 2 1991 he was driven to the airport and told his sentence had been suspended. David Reddaway, the British chargé d'affaires in Tehran, who had worked tirelessly to secure his release, met him there and lent him a tie to face the press; they then flew together to Heathrow. There was some suggestion that Cooper was freed in exchange for the release of Mehrdad Kowkabi, an Iranian student on remand after being accused of setting fire to a London bookshop selling Rushdie's The Satanic Verses. Cooper himself thought he had benefited from the advent in Iran of the comparatively liberal President Rafsanjani: 'The Iran which has set me free is not the same as the Iran that arrested me. Today's Iran is far more humanitarian.' Living in Britain once more, Cooper resumed work as a journalist, writing a regular 'Rip Van Winkle' column for the Telegraph in which he mused on changes in British life that had occurred in his long absence. He was also in demand as a forthright reviewer of memoirs by other prisoners and hostages. Criticising Terry Waite's Taken on Trust as being 'almost totally deficient' in humour, he observed that Waite 'might have survived his ordeal better if he had found something to laugh at – if only at himself'. Cooper always denied that he had been involved in espionage in Iran, and claimed he had just been unlucky. 'I think, perhaps unfortunately, I matched the profile of an English spy… I had no particular job, and I'd lived there for many years.' Despite his insouciant attitude and lack of bitterness to the Iranians, Cooper deeply regretted that his mother and one of his brothers had died during his captivity without knowing that he would one day be released; he also suffered from PTSD. In his later years he ran a property and holiday business in Spain. Roger Cooper's second marriage, to Cherlee Botkin, an American, was also dissolved. He is survived by his daughter, Gisu, who came to live in Britain with her father and became a GP. Roger Cooper, born January 29 1935, died May 18 2025 Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.