Blindness, bureaucracy and bullshit: Why it took 37 years for Alan Hall to prove his innocence

Saturday, 16 September 2023

Alan Hall, who was convicted of murdering Arthur Easton, spent 19 years in jail for the crime. His conviction was quashed by the Supreme Court. Stuff followed Alan and his family during the process. (First published in June 2022)

Everybody knew something was seriously wrong with Alan Hall’s murder conviction. Everybody knew evidence had been deliberately altered and hidden. But, as an investigation by Mike White discovers, for more than 30 years, all those who could have done something, turned their backs and washed their hands, while he sat in prison.

“Hi Mum, I am writing you this letter Wednesday morning, the day before Xmas …” Alan Hall, letter from prison.

On August 18, Alan Hall picked up a pen with his left hand, and signed his name at the bottom of a document.

The letters were angular and awkward, but they drew a line under a 37-year struggle to prove he wasn’t guilty of murdering Auckland father-of-five, Arthur Easton.

The document awarded Hall, 61, nearly $5 million for the wrongful conviction he’d suffered, and the 18 years he spent in prison.

It was the largest such compensation settlement in New Zealand history, and also acknowledged Hall was unequivocally innocent.

But relief and celebration were tempered by the knowledge that evidence of Hall’s framing for murder had been in the hands of the authorities for decades – police, prosecutors, politicians, the Justice Ministry, the Solicitor-General, Crown Law.

These were the people who could have corrected the situation.

But not one of them did anything for more than 30 years, despite compelling evidence being put before them time and again.

They made excuses, they hid behind legal phrases, they passed the buck, and wiped their hands.

They left Hall in prison.

Alan Hall spent more than 18 years in prison for a murder he didn't commit. It took 37 years for him to prove his innocence.

“I’m glad I’m in this part of the prison. I feel safe here.” Alan Hall, letter from prison.

On December 11, 1985, Hall had signed his name at the bottom of another document.

It was a police statement he made after being intercepted at work and taken to Papakura Police Station. Over the following days, he was questioned for a total of 23 hours without a lawyer, despite several times asking for one.

Hall, who has autism, had become the prime suspect in the killing of Arthur Easton, who was stabbed in his Auckland home around 8pm on a Sunday evening, two months previously.

An intruder brandishing a bayonet had attacked Easton and two of his sons, teenagers Brendan and Kim, wounding all three in a prolonged struggle.

Arthur, 52, bled to death in his hallway, while the attacker fled through the back door and into the night.

Brendan and Kim described the attacker as a powerfully-built Māori.

Arthur Easton, who was murdered in his home in Papakura in October 1985. The 52-year-old father-of-five was a chief technician with the New Zealand Post Office, and responsible for hundreds of staff and all telecommunications infrastructure in South Auckland.

Other witnesses, including Ronald Turner, described seeing a Māori man running from the direction of the crime, and police initially said the suspect was a 6’ (1.83m) Māori.

But when detectives discovered Hall, who lived a few kilometres away, owned a bayonet like the weapon left at the scene, and had access to a hat similar to the one discarded by the attacker, they understandably focused on him.

The only problem was Hall was a 5’7” (1.7m), weedy, 62kg, asthmatic Pākehā. Moreover, he was left-handed, and Brendan and Kim Easton told police the intruder held the bayonet in his right hand.

So, police did what they could to, literally, make black seem white.

They hypnotised Brendan and Kim, and also did a reconstruction of the attack. Ultimately, the boys said they weren't sure of the intruder’s ethnicity, or that he was right-handed.

Then the prosecution doctored Turner’s evidence, excising any mention of the alleged offender being Māori, or dark-skinned, from his statement, which was read to the jury at Hall’s trial.

Moreover, they didn’t hand over Turner’s first two statements which stated the suspect was Māori, nor the initial statements from the Easton brothers, or the ambulance officer, which said the same.

So, by the time of Hall’s trial in September 1986, there was little to suggest he wasn’t the person described at the scene, and seen afterwards, despite his consistent protestations of innocence.

Alan Hall was 24 when he was convicted of murdering Arthur Easton.

In his closing address, the prosecutor pointed at Hall and bellowed, “There is the murderer, he sits in this court!”

The jury deliberated for five hours, before finding Hall guilty. Aged 24, described as “slow” and “intellectually backward”, Hall was sentenced to life in prison.

“Hi Mum. I got your letter. I have just had dinner. I hope to see you next Sunday.” Alan Hall, letter from prison.

Hall’s brother, Greg, hands over a large white plastic bag, full of bad memories.

It’s some of what he collected over the years about Alan’s case: newspaper clippings; notebooks with entries written in rage; letters to government organisations, judges, academics – anyone who might listen and help them free Alan.

There are letters from Alan too, in prison: “Somehow or some way we will get to see each other. Things are just fine.”

There’s a September 1989 visitor’s pass for Pāremoremo Prison: “NB. Visitors may deposit money with the Receiving Officer to enable up to 1kg of fresh fruit to be purchased each week for a friend.”

And there’s a note Greg wrote in an exercise book:

“So what do the people with the power to control a person’s future do about cases like this? 90% of the time, they do nothing.

“They prefer to let the accused’s family suffer a pain that no medicine can cure.

Material from the files relating to Alan Hall’s conviction, including the brown woollen hat discarded by the attacker.

“They prefer to let the person who really committed these crimes to go free.

“They prefer to let the citizens of New Zealand believe lies.”

Honesty or hyperbole? The Post has investigated how each of the authorities, who put Hall in jail and kept him there, dealt with his case.

THE COURT OF APPEAL: “We do not consider a miscarriage of justice has occurred …”

A year after Hall’s conviction, the Court of Appeal denied there had been any mistakes at his trial, and maintained he was guilty of murdering Arthur Easton.

THE DEPARTMENT/MINISTRY OF JUSTICE: “The Ministry of Justice is functus officio…”

In 1987, 1988, and 1992, Hall’s family applied to the Governor-General under the Royal prerogative of mercy – a last-gasp appeal, where claims of innocence were considered by officials at the Ministry of Justice (known as the Department of Justice before 1995).

In 1988, Hall’s mother, Shirley, discovered references to the suspect being Māori had been removed from Ronald Turner’s evidence, and his earlier statements, and other crucial witness evidence, hadn't been given to Hall’s lawyers at his trial.

But, twice, Department of Justice officials considered those revelations of evidence tampering weren’t sufficiently “cogent” or relevant, and recommended Hall’s application be rejected.

In 2018, former Newshub journalist Mike Wesley-Smith asked the Ministry of Justice for all documents relating to Hall’s prerogative of mercy applications.

The day before the Supreme Court quashed his conviction, in June 2022, Alan Hall visited Parliament. “They let me rot in prison.”

The ministry’s chief legal counsel, Jeff Orr, refused, later commenting: “I did not consider there to be any reasons that made it desirable, in the public interest, to make the information available.”

Orr also refused to answer Wesley-Smith’s questions about Hall’s case, or the ministry’s handling of it.

In 2019, Wesley-Smith went back to the ministry, outlining the concerns with Hall’s conviction, and asking if it would do anything.

Orr dismissed Wesley-Smith’s four pages of information in three sentences, one of which was, “Thank you for your email.”

Further questions by Wesley-Smith were again refused by Orr, who said the ministry was “functus officio” – it had discharged its duties, and had no further role in Hall’s case.

“It is for Mr Hall to decide whether and how to challenge his conviction.”

Orr continued to refuse comment on Hall’s case in the following years.

Scars from the electronic monitoring bracelet Hall had to wear after being released from prison.

However, after Hall’s $5 million compensation, Orr finally addressed the department’s actions more than 30 years before, and its denial that Ronald Turner’s statement being altered was “cogent”.

“The Ministry accepts the Department made an error of judgment in that assessment.

“The Ministry also acknowledges that had the Department advised the Minister (of Justice) to recommend to the Governor-General that Mr Hall’s case be referred back to the Court of Appeal, Mr Hall’s convictions might have been quashed sooner.”

Orr added the Secretary of Justice, Andrew Kibblewhite, had met with Hall, “and acknowledged the Department of Justice’s role in relation to Mr Hall’s Royal prerogative of mercy applications.

“The Secretary expressed his deep regret for those events.”

POLICE: “It’s a bit ugly…”

Hall’s case, and the problems with it, had been raised repeatedly in the media following his conviction.

From a 1989 Frontline TV programme Trial and Error; to legendary reporter Pat Booth; to TV investigator Bryan Bruce; to the Herald’s Phil Taylor; to Victoria University’s Innocence Project; efforts were made to highlight the clear faults in the investigation and trial – but those responsible refused to budge.

At least two police commissioners – Howard Broad and Mike Bush – were directly contacted about concerns with Hall’s case, but appear to have done nothing.

However, Wesley-Smith’s work, including his Grove Road podcast, put the issues squarely in front of authorities between 2018 and 2020.

When he approached police in 2018 Wesley-Smith outlined the case and, crucially, that the officer who led the investigation into Arthur Easton’s murder, Detective Senior Sergeant Kelvin McMinn, had admitted police changed Turner’s evidence presented at trial, but did so on the instruction of the prosecutor. (Crown prosecutor Peter Kaye has denied this.)

Given this information, Wesley-Smith asked if police would reinvestigate the case.

They responded: “Police are unable to publicly relitigate through the media selective aspects of a historical investigation which has been heard and tested in the courts, including in this instance the Court of Appeal. We note there are legal avenues available for those wishing to challenge a conviction.”

Wesley-Smith went back to police in 2019, asking if it was ever permissible to remove part of a witness’s court statement “without the knowledge of the witness, jury, judge, or defence”.

Detective superintendent Dave Lynch cut and pasted the response from six months earlier, before adding it was a decision for the prosecutor what evidence was presented in court.

However, that afternoon, despite insisting to Wesley-Smith he couldn’t speak about the matter, Lynch emailed deputy solicitor-general Brendan Horsley at Crown Law, outlining Hall’s case.

“It’s a bit ugly, in that a witness that was interviewed at the time of the murder gave a description of a person running away from the direction of the scene.

“The person was described as Māori. The person arrested was European.”

The following day, Lynch again emailed Horsley, providing more details and documents regarding Hall’s case, and acknowledging the omitted evidence could provide valid grounds for an appeal.

Hall rarely speaks about his experience in prison. In August, Cabinet awarded him nearly $5 million for the time he spent there and the effects of his wrongful conviction.

“I leave it to your discretion as to whether the Crown needs to conduct a proactive assessment of these issues and consider what, if any, action should be taken as a result.”

Horsley delegated the matter to Charlotte Brook, the manager of Crown Law’s criminal team.

Several days later, Brook wrote to Lynch.

“It’s all a bit untidy, and we really have no way of knowing what happened after so many years. I don’t think there’s anything we can usefully do at this stage.

“If/when they bring an appeal, we will have to deal with it then.”

Former deputy-solicitor-general Brendan Horsley was part of the Crown Law team between 2018 and 2020 that declined to do anything about Hall’s case, unless an appeal was filed.

Lynch replied: “Thanks Charlotte, we’ll just wait and see what happens.”

All this time, Hall remained in jail.

Despite Lynch knowing a considerable amount about Hall’s case and the problems with it, police claim he remained unaware of some details, and accepted the justice system had examined Hall’s case several times and ruled there wasn’t a miscarriage of justice.

But, as critics point out, putting Hall’s innocence or guilt to one side, Lynch had been presented with prima facie evidence of a witness statement being deliberately altered by police officers – and didn’t follow it up.

Despite this, police insist they acted appropriately in not re-examining Hall’s conviction.

However, “from our understanding at present day of the complexities surrounding this matter, the approach would be to undertake a review,” assistant commissioner Lauano Sue Schwalger recently acknowledged.

Interestingly, for a case police say they didn’t fully understand, and took little action over when concerns were raised, it seems there was considerable internal discussion about it.

When The Post asked for all police communications regarding Hall’s case between 2017 and July 2022, police refused to release them because there were 14,324 emails, and these couldn’t be supplied without substantial collation or research.

Alan Hall, left, in 2009, with mother Shirley, and brother Geoff. Shirley Hall fought ceaselessly to prove her son was innocent. She died in 2012 without seeing his name cleared.

CROWN LAW: “It’s all a bit untidy…”

While Lynch was corresponding with Crown Law regarding Hall’s case, Crown Law was also dealing with Wesley-Smith, who asked what actions they could take regarding allegations there had been a miscarriage of justice.

Crown Law, which is headed by the Solicitor-General, oversees all criminal prosecutions in New Zealand. And it had been aware of concerns with Hall’s case for some time.

In 2018, Wesley-Smith had forwarded extensive information about Hall’s case to them but was told: “Crown Law can’t comment as we had no role in the trial or the appeal.”

In January 2020, Wesley-Smith tried again, sending details about problems with the case, and links to stories he had already done.

Crown Law again rebuffed him, saying it had no role in Hall’s conviction – despite its responsibility for all prosecutions.

When Crown Law counsel Emma Hoskin, left, and deputy solicitor-general Madeleine Laracy looked at Alan Hall’s case in 2022, they immediately accepted there had been a miscarriage of justice, a response that has been widely lauded.

“We have referred you to counsel who acted for the Crown, Mr Peter Kaye, who may or may not be able to assist (but of course is under no obligation to do so).”

The response, drafted by Charlotte Brook, added that Hall’s case had already been considered by the Department of Justice, under the Royal prerogative of mercy.

“That is the appropriate forum to resolve the issues you have raised, and Crown Law will not be commenting further.”

Beyond any supercilious “it’s-got-nothing-to-do-with-us” public responses, Crown Law’s internal emails reveal irritation with Wesley-Smith’s approaches.

“We’ve already dealt with a bunch of requests from Mike WS and I’m pretty sure we said we wouldn’t respond to any more,” Brook wrote to her colleagues.

“I’m with Charlotte,” Brendan Horsley replied. “The request is not one for official information, and the timeline is unreasonable in any event. We have already provided information about this particular case.”

The truth was, Crown Law had never provided information about Hall’s case to Wesley-Smith. Moreover, he had only asked five questions – and suggested a response time of nearly a week.

From left, investigator Tim McKinnel and Alan Hall’s lawyers Nick Chisnall, KC, and Luke Elborough on their way to the Supreme Court in June 2022. The court immediately quashed Hall’s conviction, though the information they made their decision on, had been largely known for over 30 years.

Horsley and Brook later admitted they only gave the material Wesley-Smith sent them, a cursory look.

When Wesley-Smith replied to Crown Law, expressing disappointment it wouldn’t answer any questions, internal emails show Horsley and Brook being asked whether they wished to respond.

“Definitely not,” said Horsley, before Brook claimed Wesley-Smith’s reporting wasn’t balanced.

PROSECUTORS: “That is not something I would have done.”

Crown Law told Wesley-Smith to contact the prosecutor at Hall’s trial and appeal, Peter Kaye – but he’d already done this.

Kaye replied: “At no stage in my career have I ordered a statement to be altered by deleting material aspects of it. That is not something I would have done.”

Kaye hasn’t commented further about the case, and didn’t reply to The Post.

Wesley-Smith also approached Kaye’s former employer, prosecutors Meredith Connell, but they wouldn’t comment.

So he contacted the prosecuting firm now handling criminal cases in the Manukau area, Kayes Fletcher Walker.

In an email to Crown Law, crown solicitor Natalie Walker said she knew nothing about the case, and didn't intend retrieving the file from Meredith Connell.

“I fine (sic) the request an unreasonable one, especially on the Thursday before a long weekend (Monday is Auckland Anniversary Day).”

AND THEN EVERYTHING CHANGED…

Everybody knew about Hall’s case and what had gone horribly wrong.

Everybody from Ministers of Justice, to Secretaries of Justice, to Police Commissioners, to Solicitors-General, to Crown Solicitors, to Crown Law officials, to senior detectives.

Everybody.

But everybody found excuses not to act, to look away, to leave it to Hall’s family, with their meagre resources and busy lives to try to prove a monstrous mistake had been made. (Hall’s father had died in 1985. His mother, Shirley, survived on a widow’s benefit, and used part of the proceeds of selling the family home to pay Hall’s legal costs.)

Mike Wesley-Smith, a former Newshub journalist, whose work exposing Alan Hall's miscarriage of justice led to the quashing of Hall's conviction for murdering Arthur Easton in 1985.

But in early 2022, the Crown was finally forced to confront what it had pretended not to see, for so long

After four years working on Hall’s case, Auckland barrister Nick Chisnall, KC, and investigator Tim McKinnel, filed an application for another appeal, in the Supreme Court.

In an instant, handwashing turned to hand-wringing as Crown Law admitted Hall’s 36-year claim of injustice “is lamentably correct”.

In June 2022, the Supreme Court quashed Hall’s convictions, saying it was clear justice has seriously miscarried in this case.

“As to why that is so, the Crown accepts that such departures from accepted standards must either be the result of extreme incompetence, or of a deliberate and wrongful strategy to secure conviction.”

Alan Hall and his nephew Kaltyn eating KFC after Hall received $5 million compensation for his wrongful conviction for murder.

At best a cock-up, at worst, corruption.

And suddenly, everybody was appalled.

Despite the same information being known by everyone in authority for 30 years without action being taken, everybody now rushed to express grave concerns about what had occurred.

Five inquiries were swiftly launched: two by police - into the original investigation, and if anyone was criminally liable for altering evidence in Hall’s case; one by the Solicitor-General who wanted to know what the Crown’s role was; one by the Minister of Justice to see if Hall should receive compensation; and one by the Independent Police Conduct Authority, examining any police misconduct.

The police inquiries are still continuing, and the IPCA’s report has yet to be released..

The review by Wellington barrister Nicolette Levy, KC, for the Solicitor-General cleared Crown Law of not investigating the information it was given about the egregious acts that played a part in Hall’s conviction.

Alan Hall, centre, with brothers Greg, left, and Geoff.

“In my view, there was no obligation on the Crown lawyers to fully absorb and analyse the material presented by Mr Wesley-Smith, either for the purpose of commenting on it to him, or in pursuit of a remedy for Mr Hall.”

This statement was met with incredulity and frustration by Hall’s family, investigator Tim McKinnel, and Wesley-Smith, who all believed Crown Law ignored a blatant miscarriage of justice for years, instead suggesting the onus was on Hall to prove his innocence.

“The Crown put Alan Hall in prison,” Wesley-Smith fired back. “Once the Crown knew that was wrong, the Crown had the responsibility to get him out of prison – nobody else.”

In August, Cabinet accepted retired High Court Judge Rodney Hansen’s advice that Hall was factually innocent, and should be awarded nearly $5 million compensation for all he had suffered, dwarfing the $3.5 million paid to Teina Pora.

Alan Hall signing his $5 million compensation agreement with, from left, lawyers Nick Chisnall, KC, Luke Elborough, and investigator Tim McKinnel.

He also received an apology from acting justice minister Deborah Russell. At the meeting, he was surrounded by family, his legal team, Wesley-Smith, and supporters.

He was the Five Million Dollar Man.

And then he went outside and celebrated, eating KFC with his nephew, sitting on the bonnet of his brother’s car.

“Been thinking of you all. Even the cat. Just letting you know that I’m okay.” Alan Hall, letter from prison.

For his brother, Geoff, it was a moment he’d imagined for so long, but sometimes wondered if it would ever happen.

“I spent a lot of time thinking, ‘Why can’t everyone else see what we can see? It’s so bloody obvious.’”

Beyond those directly responsible for altering evidence and ensuring Alan was convicted, there were layers of supervisors and managers who turned a blind eye to what had happened, Geoff says.

“The New Zealand justice system is designed to put people in jail, not to accept they’ve got it wrong. It scoffed at us when we said Alan was wrongfully convicted. We were up against that archaic mentality of police and justice that will look the other way rather than fix something that’s wrong.

“When politicians turn round and say we’ve got a great justice system – bullshit. We do not.”

Geoff says police haven’t apologised to Alan. “Not one thing. Zero. Zero. Zilch.”

Investigator Tim McKinnel, who also helped free Teina Pora, says there are many reasons why it took 37 years for Hall to prove his innocence.

“The justice system has been an incredibly arrogant system in terms of its self-belief in its ability to get things right.

Hall’s lawyer, Nick Chisnall, KC, says once the cell door is closed on a convicted person, the authorities don’t want it reopened. “The system effectively countenances or tolerates error, for the sake of finality.”

“The tone of many of the responses Alan got, whether it was from the courts, or the Department of Justice, or police officers, was superior, dismissive and haughty.”

McKinnel says the case’s serious flaws, which Crown Law and the Supreme Court accepted last year, were known for decades.

“From 1988 onwards, there has been no justifiable excuse for the system to have perpetuated the wrong that Alan suffered.”

But McKinnel fears lessons from cases like Pora’s and Hall’s wouldn’t be learnt.

“There’s a collective, institutional shrug of the shoulders, and they move on. Occasionally, somebody is asinine enough to say, when a miscarriage is proven, ‘This is the system working.’

“It’s the system working unless it’s you or someone you love who rots in prison for decades.

“And one of my great hopes is that the resistance and silly games that are played when these cases arise, dissipates, and we finally have a mature system and response to potential miscarriages of justice.

“At the moment, there’s often a desire for finality, rather than justice.”

That impulse for finality was evident in Hall’s tortuous battle.

“I think it’s because his case presented an inconvenient truth,” says Wesley-Smith – that there was evidence of alleged misconduct by police and the prosecution.

Similar issues were exposed in the case of Arthur Allan Thomas, twice convicted of murdering Jeannette and Harvey Crewe in 1970, after police planted evidence. Thomas was pardoned in 1979 and paid $950,000 compensation.

“If you use the Thomas case as a measurement versus Alan’s case,” Wesley-Smith says, “Thomas took nine years – Alan’s took 37.

“It might be a simplistic way of looking at it, but that’s an indication of a justice system that’s gone backwards, not forwards.”

The fact it took so long, despite Hall having some of the country’s best lawyers arguing for him, reinforced how hard it was for people to prove they’d been wrongfully convicted.

In Hall’s case, the authorities knew what had gone wrong, but bent backwards to find reasons not to act, Wesley-Smith says.

“Everyone tried to make something that was incredibly simple, complex – and it wasn’t.”

“Did you get my Christmas gift for you and Andrea? Can you send me next year’s calendar. Many thanks.” Alan Hall, letter from prison.

The evening of Hall’s $5 million compensation announcement, Chisnall was driving home along Auckland’s Wyndham St.

Waiting four back in a queue at a red light, Chisnall thought he’d call McKinnel, to discuss the remarkable outcome they’d achieved for Hall.

So he grabbed his phone, switched it to Bluetooth so he could talk hands-free, put it down again, and then noticed a police van alongside him.

Once past the lights, the van pulled Chisnall over, and several officers surrounded his EV.

He explained he was trying to be responsible by putting his phone on Bluetooth, while stopped, but the officer at his window insisted using his phone while driving was illegal.

The officer then asked Chisnall where he’d been, and what his occupation was.

It was all Chisnall could do not to explain how he’d just overseen the country’s largest wrongful conviction compensation which stemmed from police misconduct.

It was all he could do not to outline what Hall had suffered for 37 years on account of that.

It was all he could do not to say that if this was the kind of interaction people had with police, then it was little wonder the public’s faith in them was tested.

It was all he could do not to suggest police maybe had their priorities wrong.

Instead, he admitted the infringement, and carried on home, any celebrations soured.

Days later, Chisnall paid the $150 fine.