We all have the right to remain silent if arrested, and exercising that right is definitely easier with a solicitor present. But I told them I didn’t want one when they asked, and so two detectives were now asking me questions I wasn't answering. Not wanting legal representation was not about appearing innocent. I wasn’t innocent. I just had to be alone.
I didn’t try to avoid the arrest, and I could have as there was time. Instead, I willingly accepted it, just as I'd always intended to do from the start. I’d been expecting it for some time; I just had no idea how long it would take before it occurred. To be honest, I felt relieved at no longer having to wonder when it would.
As I sat in front of the detectives, I was co-operative, respectful, just silent. Silence gave me something essential; it allowed me to be there in a state of detachment, without having to think about what could happen, and without having to give away how vulnerable I actually felt.
Why I was there I’ll get to in a moment; a white-collar crime that gave me an experience a sense of righteous creativity had inspired. And I liked the way it felt. It created a sense of excitement that outweighed anything work ever gave me, and I knew I was only playing really, discovering what it was like to do things my way without having to follow the rules, giving me a sense of confidence I’d not had before. It was only when the possibility of getting more deeply involved in the criminal world arose, coming out of a growing reputation with my partner and those he hung out with, that it became clear it was time to stop.
While the money was necessary, giving me a way to gauge if I was any good or not, there seemed little point in acquiring more just for the sake of it, unless I was willing to accept that prison could become an occupational hazard. While it was exciting when I saw my ideas turn into cash in my hand, the feeling didn't last long as the real buzz came from imagining those ideas and watching them put into practice.
From the moment I decided to do this, everything I needed appeared quickly. I didn't have to think about it; it just seemed to be there. But acting on it changed me in a way I did not anticipate, and I did not like who I felt myself becoming. I had to let go before things went any further, and when I found a way to do it, it seemed so perfect that I was instantly lighter just knowing I could.
I spent a year practicing meditation. Doing this eventually gave me a way to look at every significant event of my life and imagine how it could have gone differently. I looked at my beliefs, freed myself from what wasn't real or relevant, making it so that when the time came to walk away, everything could go; all of it, all of them, easily.
Leaving for Israel with a one-way ticket the day before the start of the first Gulf war was like shifting into a parallel reality where the old me didn’t exist anymore; my previous life seemed like a dream that had never been real and was now gone. I stepped into a new world, released from everything that had been familiar to me. It was the most liberating experience of my life.