A judge, barrister, ex-police officer and a convicted ‘murderer’ walk into a tent.
This isn’t some convoluted joke that might not even be funny but a real experience I had at a literary festival last weekend.
Chiltern Kills is a crime writing festival held in Gerrards Cross, attracting authors and readers from across the country all in aid of Centrepoint, a charity for the homeless. The brainchild of crime writers Tony Kent (also a criminal barrister) and Paul Waters, this annual gathering brings together the great, the good and people like me. One of their most successful panels is always the true crime event and it was this that put us, a most unlikely quartet, together on a breezy, chilly Saturday morning.
Tony asked whether I’d be happy to share a stage with author Linda Calvey, a reformed East End gangster who served seven years for robbing post offices and was convicted of murdering her former lover, Ronnie Cook (a charge she denies, despite serving eighteen years in prison).
Once he assured me she was truly reformed, I leapt at the chance. Book festivals usually feature authors fielding questions about their latest book, their inspirations and writing processes.
Rarely do audiences hear how the shooting dead of a panellist’s husband by police led them to a life of crime, how an alleged erroneous murder conviction arose and what it felt like to slap Myra Hindley around the face.
Our moderator, barrister Imran Mahmood, spread the questions fairly between Linda, Her Honour Judge Nicola Williams and I.
But predictably it was to the Black Widow, as she is dubbed, that the audience were mostly drawn.
Walking past Linda in the street, you wouldn’t give her a second glance. In her late seventies, sporting a bleach-blonde bob and a smattering of gold jewellery, this diminutive lady could be anyone’s gran or favourite aunt.
But, as soon as you open a conversation with her, you know she has a past like no other.
Some might question why three people who practice, or have practiced, on the other side of the imaginary line of justice would want to be seen in public with Linda. She is a self-confessed armed robber, enjoyed a very comfortable existence on the proceeds of crime and her circles included some of the most notorious East End gangsters including the Krays.
Surely the question should be instead, why wouldn’t we?
Imran and Nicola (when she was a defending barrister) will have had more unguarded moments with those accused or convicted of serious crimes than I; such people rarely speak freely to the likes of me.
So, selfishly, it was a unique opportunity to hear from someone whose life, values, and perspectives for the most part diametrically opposed mine.
If we just debate with those only in our own image, our minds remain closed.
The burning question for panellists and audience alike was: did she shoot Cook in cold blood as her 1991 jury found or was she, as she maintained, set up by the Metropolitan Police?
Whatever the truth, she has served her time (though remains on licence until she dies) so admitting any guilt would have no impact on her liberty.
As it turned out, I didn’t need to find the words to frame that potentially explosive question.
So adamant was she to stress her innocence, that the very first thing she said to me when I introduced myself in the green room before our event was ‘I never done the murder.’ I’d not even asked!
There is a myth that police officers, and by extension former officers, are walking, talking lie detectors.
For me, nothing could be further from the truth.
Whilst Linda claims to have passed a lie detector test which, she says, proves her innocence I tend to work on evidence and I’ve seen none for her case.
Until I do, I am unable to comment on whether her claims are true or if her conviction is safe.
But just the experience of spending a few hours with someone like Linda is enough to remind me that nothing in this life is cut and dried.
The only person who knows whether she is a cold blooded killer or victim of a catastrophic miscarriage of justice is Linda, and she’s not budging on that.
I originally wrote this for my weekly column in The Argus, published on Monday, 13 October 2025.
