Chapter 19 - Game, Set and Match

Anthony Blunt was a communist, one of many that emanated from Cambridge University in the 1930s. Anthony Blunt was also great friends with Victor Rothschild, a man who also worked for MI5 during the war and who was rumoured to have been the Fifth Man in the Cambridge ring of spies, alongside Blunt, Guy Burgess, Donald Maclean and Kim Philby.

So, irrespective of Rothschild’s possible involvement, Blunt was clearly not your run of the mill communist. Communism is about the social ownership of the means of production, in other words, a system in which the humble worker has a say, and a stake, in the production of wealth.

As opposed to the capitalist system whereby the means of production are owned and controlled by an individual or a family – such as the Rothschild’s, Rockefeller’s or the Astor’s – and where the workers have to be grateful for whatever crumbs of shit the owner deems them worthy of receiving.

Monarchies can flourish within a capitalist society because the power resides in the hands of the few and it is often the monarch who decides in whose hands this power rests. This power, of course, could be expanded exponentially through a merger between a monarch and a leading capitalist family, a la the rumoured Rothschild/Royal bastards. Monarchies also perpetuate the misapprehension that there exists a ruling class; somehow born with an innate ability to know what is best for the rest of us. In much the same way as the neo-liberal, capitalist apologists now spew guff about ‘trusting the markets’ and how it is fine for the rich to get richer as, ultimately, some of their vast wealth will ‘trickle down’ to the rest of us.

Monarchies don’t do so well in communist societies because power rests, theoretically at least, in the hands of the oppressed masses who tend to resent the former power and wealth of the monarchs and who are, therefore, more inclined to line up the said monarchs, and their stooges, in front of a wall for a spot of shooting practice or to place their necks at the sharp-end of a guillotine.

Blunt, however, accepted both a job and a knighthood from the British monarchy. Clearly then his form of communism was either, an affectation, or, some bizarre hypothetical British hybrid in which the proletariat would, presumably, be assuaged by the nationalisation of certain key industries but where the ultimate head of these nationalised industries would still be the monarch.

In other words, fuck all changes.

So why send a traitor to retrieve information that is, at the very least, highly sensitive and, at the worst, would confirm that the Hanoverian monarchy has no legitimate claim to the British crown?

Queen Victoria was, in fact, the last Hanoverian ruler of the United Kingdom as all her descendants would take the patrilineal title of Saxe-Coburg Gotha from her husband Prince Albert until 1917 when King George V realised, three years into World War I, that the Germanic name may not play too well with those brave British souls whose guts were being spilled over an aristocratic family tiff! So, they replaced it with the far less German-sounding title of Windsor.

In the logical scheme of things the communist Blunt would have told his Soviet masters that A: King Edward VIII was a Nazi loving shit who would have happily sold the entire Russian nation down the river for the price of a crown, and, or, B: that the British royal family were, in fact, Rothschild bastards.

In either event this would have been Intel that the Russians would have been extremely interested in. But, if they ever got this memo, they did nothing with it.

Inbred hipsters: King George V (on the right) and Tsar Nicholas II of Russia play at dressing-up in German uniforms in 1913

Now conventional British wisdom implies that it won World War II, although the reality is that at the outset of the war the only global superpower on the world stage was the old British empirical war-horse. At wars end, however, there were two superpowers contesting the global willy-waving competition and neither of them spoke the King’s English. Though, to be fair, due to an in-bred stammer, neither did the King!

In reality America and Russia divided up the post war spoils whilst Germany was sent to sit on the naughty step for five minutes before resuming control of non-communist Europe. Britain’s prize for oppressing the Nazis was decades of rationing and squalor and the mother of all mortgages to be paid, until centuries end, to its US overlord. But hey, on the plus side, the in-bred Hanoverian fuckwits held on to their throne; a fact still rejoiced today by the flag-waving, Daily Mail reading, brain-dead, middle-class masses that populate the Home Counties.

And there you have it, for really there is no difference between the Yanks, the Reds, the Krauts and the Brits for they are all ruled by the self-same cabal of self-serving individuals.

You are now hopefully becoming aware that the stakes are high here, that life has no meaning to these people - yours and mine. We are mere pawns in a vast game of chess. 

They are prepared to do whatever it takes to stay alive and on the top of the pile of life whilst we engage in a massive race-to-the-bottom.

However, what with all the politics and the wars taking their eye off the ball they inadvertently allowed a global population explosion. The common people are becoming increasingly dangerous to this elite club and they are having trouble controlling us. We can rise and exterminate them anytime we want: we are many, they are few; our offspring numerous, theirs scarce; we are breeding as fast as insects, they as slow as elephants. Worse; they have been resting on their laurels counting their money whilst we had to plan and execute all the work they wanted us to do; forming the tools and industry to do it; so we can make things, they nothing.

Having been forced to think on our feet we now have the brains, they none. All this means only one thing, something that frightens them; they need us, we sure as hell don’t need them. So they control our economy; it is our Achilles-heel.

They literally own the world, they have seen to it that we have to live our lives in debt to the banks; they own our food, they own our homes, they own our jobs, they own us...with our own money!

We face continual attacks on our living standards, our working conditions, our pensions and our savings and this is deliberate. It is divide and conquer. Keep us in the shit so that we fight each other for the next Pound, Dollar or Euro; anything, so long as we don’t stand up to them.

To keep this power in one place they only breed amongst themselves. I know, I was denied the chance to marry one of the girls of nobility that I knew; they said so, and they made it so.

This control is not so obvious; they cover it in a sugar-coating called ‘democracy’, making sure most of the people we can vote for are, in reality, theirs. They make sure names are changed to avoid us suspecting anything as most of the people ruling and running the country ‘for us’, are, in fact, related to each other. A point in case would be the former British Prime Minister David Cameron whose wife Samantha’s step-father, William Astor (a Committee of 300 member), is the son of the Lord Astor I used to meet at Cliveden House with Ward.

Hence Ward and his team were always trying to keep track of all the names and planned marriages.

There was no way we could work-out who was who without those genealogical ledgers, and finding who had the ledgers wasn’t easy either as those that held them would be people on those lists! These were the Establishment’s list of those they considered eugenically pure and a record of where they had stashed the blue-blood-bastards for safe up-keeping. It didn’t matter who you fucked, but if you wanted to breed you had to consult the ledgers.

So Ward was physically inserting people into various homes, using sex-shows, organising orgies, shagging the occupants shitless, then, with them exhausted and asleep, they were sneaking around looking for clues. Very crude, very time-consuming, very risky, but what else was there? Rothschild, Rockefeller, Courtauld, Astor, these are some of the top families that are related to each other, controlling big business. Not all are bad people and this makes it harder to spot anything.

Even the Bauer family, German media barons, and the most notorious masters of the black occult and human sacrifice in the world, are amongst us, but are called something else today. In the 1760s – the decade that the Hanoverian George became King of England – Mayer Amschel Bauer, a banker from Hanover, changes his name to Rothschild; German for red shield, and a new world order is born.

Aware that they are few, and decimated by the first and second world wars, they have continued to father illegitimate children to make up the numbers, to have ‘money in the bank’ and to guard against war and pestilence.

Anthony Blunt was one of their half-breed bastards; Anthony Blunt was a ‘spare’, Anthony Blunt was their agent.

Blunt may well have been a traitor to his country, but not to his monarch; from whose saggy teats he continued to gain nourishment long after his seeming betrayal.

So, what was the glue that bound this eugenics based master-plan together?

Enter the Astor family led Cliveden Set.

The Royal Institute of International Affairs (RIIA) was created in 1919. It is now known as Chatham House and it claims to be a leading global think-tank that ruminates on international affairs and policy, however, given it is largely funded by donations from big-business it is, in reality, a mouthpiece for corporations and the establishment. The Astor family were major financial backers of the RIIA and Waldorf Astor was appointed its chairman. The American equivalent to the RIIA is the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR). The RIIA and CFR set up Round Table Groups (based on the King Arthur myths) which were initially named by Cecil Rhodes ‘Association of Helpers’.

High ranking Freemason, son of a vicar, and Cliveden Set member, Cecil Rhodes also created the Rhodes Scholarship to bring together select men from the English speaking world and Germany to learn how to bring in the one-world government agenda that they had long coveted.

Another founder of those Round Table groups was the author Aldous Huxley - whose mind-control quote you read earlier – who was a member of a group called the “Children of the Sun”, a Dionysian cult that promoted the one-world-government agenda so beloved of Britain’s elite. Another member was the spy Guy Burgess.

The Cliveden Estate of the Cliveden Astor’s has played an important role in the preparation of Rhodes Scholars, who were duly apprenticed into the one-world-government scheme of promoting and preserving the welfare of the one-percenters. Bill Clinton being a perfect example of a beneficiary of a Rhodes scholarship; Clinton later served as US President from 1993-2001.

The principle members of the Cliveden Set were: Geoffrey Dawson, editor of the London Times newspaper that was owned by the Astors; Philip Kerr (Lord Lothian), author and politician; Edward Wood (Lord Halifax), politician; William Montagu, 9th Duke of Manchester, politician; Robert Brand and Nancy Astor, Viscountess Astor, wife of Waldorf Astor - of the prominent, and extremely wealthy, Astor family - and mother of William Astor. William Astor, you will recall, gave Stephen Ward a cottage at his Cliveden residence and it was here that John Profumo met Christine Keeler and, in so doing, sowed the seeds of his downfall.

Philip Kerr and his reading material of choice

The Cliveden Set was an extremely influential group of right-wing high-flyers who were keen that Britain avoided war with Germany at all costs.

Why then would the Cliveden Set take a supposed communist sympathiser and traitor such as Stephen Ward under their wing if he was as diametrically opposed to their political aims as history contends?

History, written as it is by the victors, has tried to portray the Cliveden Set not as pro-fascists but as seeing the Nazis as the solution to what they considered to be the Jewish and communist problem. In other words, that one should just ignore the Nazis and let them gas all the Jews to extinction before fighting themselves to death in a mutually destructive conflict with the communist Russians. One stone, three birds, happy days!

So, the Cliveden Set were not then fascists; just loveable, cuddly, pro-democracy anti-Semites!

Of course, you don’t have to be a member of the aristocracy to be a fascist; they come in all shapes and classes, however, it is only the upper-classes that have a vested interest in preserving the status quo and protecting the old order.

Indeed, the old order very much shared the Cliveden Set’s pro-appeasement policy. It wasn’t just the ex-king Edward that was keen to suck on some German sausage; his brother Prince George, the Duke of Kent was equally as partial.

Eddie, Adolf and the boy Simpson

Prince George died on August 25^th 1942, at the age of 39, on board an RAF flying boat which mysteriously crashed into a Scottish hillside whilst, supposedly, on a hush-hush mission to Iceland.

Bizarrely Prince George had with him a briefcase full of 100 Kroner notes, worthless in Iceland, handcuffed to his wrist, leading to speculation that the flight was actually on a military mission to Sweden, the only place Kroner notes were of any value.

There was also a mysterious extra person on-board the plane that night, one not on the official list of passengers; a certain Rudolf Hess, who was being surreptitiously returned to the bosom of the Nazi’s having safely delivered the ledgers. The poor, rambling unfortunate who was subsequently put on show at the Nuremburg trials and then spent the remainder of his life banged up in solitary at Spandau was a double.

In the normal course of events you might imagine that a dead Prince, martyred, and burnt to a crisp as he was for the greater good of the nation that he loved, would be a tragedy that would be seared, irrevocably, into the hearts and minds of every single God-fearing, Queen loving, Union Jack waving, poppy wearing, rule Britannia singing Brit from the Outer Hebrides to Outer Mongolia. The kind of man whose eternally youthful visage should be preserved in a suitably heroic pose and rendered in bronze at every war memorial the length and breadth of the UK. A memorial to be viewed by all in hushed tones and from where suitably reverential, modern day, Royals would bow, scrape and place a wreath in honour of his, ultimate, sacrifice for his country. As it is, I’ll bet you’ve never even heard of him.

Why would that be? Why would the dark masters of spin miss this greatest of all opportunities to perpetuate the age-old myth of regal nobility; that the shit of the aristocracy does not, indeed, stink, but does, in fact, fall from the royal cheeks in a pleasing hue of red, white and blue; that it carries upon it the heady bouquet of perfumed roses and that if you were to spread it on your garden it would yield an eternal supply of golden rhubarb?

The answer, of course, is because the Duke, as with the rest of his ancestors, siblings and progeny, was a Hanoverian and was, therefore, as German as sauerkraut and lederhosen and, as such, it should come as no surprise that he should die in league with his adopted nation’s enemy and with his cold, dead, hands still grasping the foreign blood money.

Churchill, on the other hand, did not buy into this pro-appeasement bullshit and was not about to be bullied into peace talks with the Nazis and so war was the only outcome.

One should never forget though that the official reason for Britain declaring war with Germany was because the Nazis had invaded Poland; although when the Russians did the exact same thing a mere two-weeks later the Brits said fuck all and, indeed, the Poles found their Baltics gripped in a Soviet vice until 1990.

Ultimately, the only winner from the conflict in Europe was the Americans, who emerged as a fully-fledged super-power; a point not lost, I am sure, on the half-Yank Churchill.

The Nazis, as you will recall if you’ve studied your Indiana Jones, were well into the occult and were quite famous for their views on the promotion of the Aryan race. Indeed in the year of our Lord, and Jack the Ripper, of 1888, Helena Blavatsky described the Aryan race as having begun about a million years ago in Atlantis. Now whilst this is clearly bollocks it did heavily influence Nazi thinking and does, essentially, name check a pre-flood civilisation that the Nazis subsequently attached themselves to.

Which brings us to Josef Mengele and his ‘Boys from Brazil’; Mengele is famously reviled for the human experiments he carried out on the inmates at Auschwitz and is rumoured to have developed the ‘trauma-based’ system of mind-control. This system manipulates a mechanism of the mind that shuts out memories of extreme trauma; in essence a person who has suffered systematic abuse will enter a disassociated state of mind from where they become more susceptible to hypnotic command whilst in these trance states.

This work originated from the initial post WWI studies of the Tavistock Institute on shell-shocked soldiers but the dissociative method works best on young children. This form of conditioning is allegedly pan-generational and so is passed on from one generation to the next. It is from this facet that the term Monarch mind-control was conceived; the Monarch butterfly remembers where it was born and it passes this knowledge, via genetics, on to its offspring who can then travel to this location despite never having previously been there.

This would be perfect for those, like the Nazis, who wished to create a ‘Master race’ as their subjects would be born with a preconceived notion of their ancestor’s abuse and conditioning.

One wonders if the inspiration for Ira Levin’s book, ‘Boys from Brazil’, in which Mengele attempts to create clones of Hitler – was actually based on an attempt to recreate an Aryan complete with their purported psychic ability?

There exists amongst the gargantuan annals of the internet a conspiracy theory that claims that Maria Anna Schicklgruber – Hitler’s Grandmother – had been a servant at the Rothschild mansion in Vienna before leaving when she found herself mysteriously knocked up*; could it be that Hitler was a bastard Rothschild?

*Knocked up = infantile slang employed by the author to imply a pregnancy.

All in all this connection to an ancient ancestry does seem to provide a common cause between the traditional powers and could imply that Hitler and the Windsors’ were cousins, or something equally as fucked up!

But, alas, there is no definitive proof and I wouldn’t expect to find any either. These people are organised and run ‘the Establishment’, the country, they are masters at hiding things and they are also the same people who we would ask to look for things, to investigate things! They are in total control.

Ultimately, we are just puppets along for the ride. But we are becoming aware, we have communications undreamed of 100 years ago, and are slowly getting into contact with others who ‘know’, and are piecing it together. But there’s no way can we win unless we strike lucky. As I’ve indicated, Ward had photos of their evil; he used these photos to blackmail several highly-placed people for information and protection. These people killed him. Then they destroyed his network.

Chapter 20

Chapter 22 - Baker Street Robbery

On September 11, 1971, exactly forty years before the destruction of the twin-towers of the World Trade Centre an attempt was made, via somewhat unorthodox means, to avert a similarly cataclysmic event from taking place in the United Kingdom.

At least that is what the makers of the 2008 movie, The Bank Job, would have you believe.

It was on this date that Robert Rowlands of Wimpole Street – the same Wimpole Street that housed both Dr Asher and Stephen Ward at various times – tuned into an on-going robbery via his ham radio set. He, according to the accepted story, informed the police of the robbery, who did not believe him, and so he began to record the villains’ conversations until this action finally got their attention. Bizarrely though, despite finally convincing them that a crime was in progress and that it must be happening within a mile and a half of his house – that being the maximum range of a walkie-talkie in those days – the police insisted on searching a total of 750 banks within a ten mile radius. 

The old ham – Robert Rowlands

Remarkably, or perhaps as the result of their tick-box approach, they did manage to visit the bank that was in the process of being robbed. Sadly, and unbeknownst to them, as the robbers had tunnelled their way directly into the vault from underground, the dozy coppers, having found the vault door locked, failed to notice anything unusual and left allowing the robbers to continue their merry rampage through the security boxes undisturbed for the rest of the weekend.

Eventually, the Old Bill reasoned, a distraught bank manager would open up his vault on the Monday morning and find it somewhat emptier than when he locked it up on the Friday evening. At this point he would call them and the investigation could begin. The fact that the robbers, and their ill-gotten gains, would be long gone by this point seemed insignificant.

The makers of the movie insist that the heist was actually an MI5 staged operation to obtain mucky pictures of the Queen’s sister, Princess Margaret, which had been put, for supposed safe keeping, into a security box at the bank. This information, they insist, came from a guy called George McIndoe, who claims to have been an insider and was a producer on the movie.

I shall now quote directly from the linked article above:

“Obviously, we’ve changed the names,” says Clement, “and large parts of our story are invented - they have to be, because no one knows the exact details. All we could rely on what was George McIndoe told us.” And what George McIndoe told them - whether truth or fiction - is quite remarkable. He claimed that “Terry” and his walkie-talkie gang, as they became known, had found sexually compromising photographs of Princess Margaret inside one of the deposit boxes.

“The idea of the photographs was based on a direct conversation I had with George,” explains Clement. “He told me the story, but obviously I can’t prove that it’s true.” Indeed, the real ham radio operator, Robert Rowlands, has spoken out against the film’s insinuation. “The film is an amusing series of misconceptions, dragging in royalty,” he says. “I am in touch with the princess’s solicitors.”

In the film, these photographs are placed in the possession of a shady, real-life character called Michael X, a slum landlord and pimp who tried to present himself as a British version of the activist Malcolm X. His ownership of the pictures bestowed upon him a “get out of jail free card”, whereby the courts overlooked his criminal activity.

After in-depth discussions with McIndoe, Clement and Le Frenais suggested in their story that the robbery was masterminded by MI5, which was eager to get its hands on the photos and thereby neutralise Michael X’s threat.

All of which tends to get my spidey-senses twitching. Clearly if pictures of Princess pisshead being spit-roasted by a couple of black men or, alternatively, of balancing half-pint mugs on John Bindon’s cock, or even details of an alleged lesbian dalliance with the American Sharman Douglas were to come into the public domain then the mother of all scandals would be unleashed, however, they haven’t, so quite why Robert Rowlands felt the need to get the legal profession involved is unclear.

Indeed, why would Rowlands feel the need to get involved at all? My gut instinct is that his involvement and his ‘accidental’ discovery of the walkie-talkie chatter are all a little too convenient.

Rowlands lived at 45 Wimpole Street, half a mile from the bank.

Route from Rowlands’ abode to the Lloyd’s Bank branch

However, just down the road from Mr Rowlands, at Flat 3, 18-22 Wigmore Street – right next door in fact to Felix de Wolfe and Robert de Grimston in 1964 – lived Lord and Lady Franks.

 Lord Oliver Franks is an interesting character in the sense that not only was he a member of the steering committee of the Bilderberg Group, the Rhodes Trust and the Rockefeller Foundation (which, lest we forget, funded the Tavistock Institute) but he was also a former chairman of Lloyds Bank. Indeed he was still a director of the bank at the time of the robbery. Franks, as well as being yet another son of a clergyman, is also noted for the dubious distinction of having had on his staff at various times Kim Philby, Guy Burgess and Donald Maclean, three of the notorious Cambridge Five ring of spies.

Lord Oliver Franks

So, we have a key proponent of one-world-government, an architect of the North Atlantic Treaty, a former British ambassador to the US and a director of Lloyds Bank living just a mile away from a branch of the Bank that is being robbed to order by MI5.

Does this not strike you as being somewhat odd?

Not only this but Lord Franks was an associate of David Bruce (of whom we have already spoken), the JFK appointed US ambassador to Britain and former OSS man who had been mentored by W. Averell Harriman, a man who had also been an ambassador to Britain, as well as to the Soviet Union, and who, just happened, to be a patient of Stephen Ward.

David Bruce was also known to discuss varied and numerous propaganda strategies with Nancy Astor, the key player behind the right-wing Cliveden Set.

Bruce was a former intelligence agent and was a friend of the James Bond author Ian Fleming. Fleming, who based the Bond character on his experiences whilst working for MI5, was another former naval intelligence man who had worked with Roger Hollis, Guy Burgess and Donald Maclean at the agency.

Hollis has long been suspected by authors such as Chapman Pincher of having been a Russian spy and, it has been claimed, it was Hollis who was responsible for instructing Guy Burgess to warn his friend Donald Maclean to defect to Russia when Maclean’s cover had been blown.

In order to make this urgent warning Burgess had to first contrive a situation in order that he could return home to England from the United States where he was then employed at the UK embassy in Washington DC. To this end he committed a series of very deliberate, and deliberately embarrassing, motoring offences which duly ‘convinced’ his boss that Burgess had to be sent back to the UK.

So, just who was Burgess’s boss at the time? None other than Oliver Franks!

The main allegations accusing Hollis of being a Soviet agent came from Chapman Pincher’s 1981 book Their Trade is Treachery, published many years after Hollis’s death in 1973. 

The inside information for this book came from the disgruntled former MI5 officer, Peter Wright, who would later publish his own expose, Spycatcher. The man who would pair the two together for this MI5 expose was the, somewhat surprising middle-man, and former MI5 staffer, Lord (Victor) Rothschild. Rothschild, you will recall, was another Cambridge Apostle and friend of the Russian ‘spies’ Burgess, Maclean, Philby and Blunt. Indeed, Rothschild was widely suspected as being the infamous ‘Fifth Man’ in the Cambridge spy circle.

Despite the devastatingly embarrassing nature of Pincher’s revelations to both the government and MI5, the fact that neither organisation sought to stop the book’s publication – indeed a simple phone call to the publisher Lord Forte would have achieved this result – seem to imply that the British Government much preferred to sully the reputation of the dead man Hollis than to admit to the state-sponsored leaking of secret information to the Reds.

It also conveniently provided Rothschild with an opportunity to re-write history in his own favour and to allow the family business to expand unhindered by any excruciating revelations!

All our circles within circles are beginning to link together now like a chain that leads us back to Baker Street and our somewhat suspect bank robbery.

A bank robbery that was conveniently overheard by Wimpole Street resident, Robert Rowlands.

One wonders if, having recruited a team of highly skilled bank-robbers with the lucrative promise that they can keep the loot, MI5 quickly located the security box containing the ‘dodgy dossier’ and fled. Perhaps Rowlands was listening in to determine exactly when the MI5 operatives had departed, after which he was instructed to call in the Old Bill.

Recent allegations have included linking the Hatton Garden robbery mastermind, Brian Reader, with the Baker Street heist and claims have been made that the robbers left certain incriminating evidence on the vault floor for police to find and investigate. This didn’t happen, largely because the bank refused to confirm the identities of the boxes owners and because they denied the police access to the contents of these boxes.

If Reader was involved, he certainly wasn’t ever arrested and, indeed, on Rowlands’s recordings of the robbery the voice of a female participant can be clearly heard; however, of the four people convicted none were women. Equally odd is that the three robbers who pleaded guilty to all charges copped for twelve year sentences whilst Benjamin Wolfe – often cited as the thieves’ ringleader and the brains behind the robbery – who pled not guilty, only received an eight year sentence upon conviction. Normally if you inconvenience the Establishment by forcing them to pursue a case into open court and you are subsequently convicted you can expect a far harsher sentence than anyone who has saved all that time, effort and expense by confessing. Not in this case though.

We should, at this juncture, deviate from our path and have a brief glimpse into the world of Benjamin Wolfe, as our Benjamin comes with a bit of previous.

Back in 1956 Benjamin Wolfe found himself up in court on the charge of conspiring to pervert the course of justice. Eventually Wolfe would receive a conditional discharge (this basically means that although guilty you will receive no punishment) but his co-accused, one detective sergeant Thomas Mills, would land up serving a four year sentence for his crimes.

As can be seen in the following newspaper clipping we have an interesting tale in which our man Wolfe is caught collaborating with a police officer who is more than happy to steal and then destroy criminal records, in this case on the behalf of a backstreet abortionist.

Thomas Mills seems to be running a similar operation to the Scientologist Gerald Wolfe who was planted within the American IRS to obtain any incriminating information they may have had on the ‘religion’. Knowing a copper who is prepared to ‘lose’ evidence and criminal records would be an extremely useful asset and Benjamin Wolfe, it appears, was a man with extremely useful connections, especially when planning a bank job.

Another newspaper article of the time, that I have seen, showed that Benjamin Wolfe was resident in the fifties in Notting Hill, west London, smack in the middle of Rachman territory. One wonders if he handled abortion arrangements for the local working girls.

Baker Street robber Benjamin Wolfe’s illustrious history

George McIndoe claims that the Baker Street robbers were recruited by MI5 to retrieve the photos. The movie argues that Gale Ann Benson, whose story we covered earlier, was in fact an MI5 spy. Now this I can believe.

Furthermore, the movie also claims the robbers discovered ledgers of police payoffs, a discovery that makes them the target of violent reprisals from the cops.

Maybe the robbery was designed to recover the security boxes mentioned in the FBI’s ‘Bowtie’ documents on the Profumo scandal that Paul Mann claims to have possessed.

The same FBI documents claim that Ward believed that Mann had stolen photographs from him to sell.

Ward’s Cliveden photograph mentioned above

Maybe the police payoffs alluded to in the movie were those made to Chief Inspector Samuel Herbert for his part in Ward’s, and the then government’s, downfall?

Maybe there was far more in those security boxes than just photographs? Maybe it included the entire Ward blackmail cache? Maybe it included the masters to certain snuff-movies? Maybe it included the sales list for said snuff-movies? Maybe it included details of those high-flying attendees of the occult rituals at which these movies were filmed? Maybe it included details of which corrupt policemen had been on the payroll of the likes of the Krays and Benjamin Wolfe?

Maybe it contained details of revelations far more explosive than anybody could imagine?

What if Paul Mann, or any of Ward’s inner-circle, had deposited material pertaining to the Profumo scandal in the Baker Street security boxes? Certainly MI5 would want to get their hands on it. Certainly the Cliveden Set remnants and their Establishment chums would want to get their hands on it. They could then have instructed MI5 to plan the operation knowing that their round-table lackey, and Lloyds Bank director, Lord Oliver Franks could easily facilitate a ‘friendly’ robbery at his Baker Street branch on the proviso that Robert Rowlands would be given the frequency of the radio channel that the robbers would use so that he could call the police once the primary purpose of the robbery had been achieved.

Presumably Rowlands and Franks could not have foreseen just how incompetent the Metropolitan Police could be.

One problem with this speculative theory lies within Johnny Edgecombe’s claim that Paul Mann was an MI5 operative. If this were true then I would imagine that MI5 would have already been in possession of copies of Mann’s evidence, however, he may well have squirrelled away the originals, or some additional evidence, in the security boxes as an insurance policy. Alternatively, maybe Mann was out to determine where Ward had stashed all his materials, maybe Mann put MI5 onto the David Jacobs trail?

Sadly I have been unable to determine anything about Paul Mann since his minor role in the Profumo affair other than he was still alive in 2003. Paul Mann is a relatively common name and it may not be his real one so sadly I have hit a dead end.

It seems highly likely that what was stashed in the bank vault in Baker Street was far more than just a few mucky pictures though. It was a trail; a trail that led right back to the top.

Chapter 23

Chapter 23 - A Few conclusions

Roger Hollis, the DG of MI5, has been accused publically of being a Russian spy, as has Stephen Ward – he wasn’t – and the Cambridge Five; Burgess, Maclean, Philby, Blunt and one other, have been famously outed as being communists and traitors.

This other, as yet unknown, ‘traitor’ was most likely Victor Rothschild. We have already briefly touched upon the Rothschild’s and their status amongst conspiracy theorists is the stuff of legend; so need to repeat, suffice it to say, he makes an unlikely communist on the face of it.

Now I cannot honestly claim to know the true political affiliations of all of the above but they do all seem very establishment to me! Blunt continued to work for the Palace even after he confessed his treachery (remember the 1948 quote from the King's private secretary: “That's our Russian spy”, I’m guessing the emphasis was on the ‘our’ part), Ward was being funded and housed by the Cliveden Set and the Cambridge Five were supposedly recruited by the Soviets BEFORE they were employed by the secret services. How could the Reds know that they would become valuable assets with access to top secrets?

Unless the intelligence they were feeding back to the Soviets was travelling with full British approval.

An assertion that gains validity when we discover that Anthony Blunt secured his role in MI5 on the say-so of Victor Rothschild.

World War II ended because the American atom bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki changed the game. Suddenly one side had a weapon of mass destruction and a potential monopoly on the global power stakes.

This monopoly on power had previously been the preserve of the Brits and they desperately wanted to cling onto their place at the top-table. Solution. Pass on atomic secrets from your American allies to their Russian enemies so that they can develop the exact same weapon. What then ensues is a forty year stalemate while both sides debate as to who can piss the highest.

Whilst the Brits no doubt thought that this interregnum would provide them with a window of opportunity to develop weapons of its own and regain its pole-position, it also allowed plenty of time for the corporate rape and takeover of the western world. An advantage clearly not lost on Victor Rothschild and his family.

Ultimately this brinkmanship, and not to mention betrayal, could have had globally catastrophic consequences and, obviously, should evidence of it exist, in say a security box in a bank in Baker Street, then the potential to unleash hell would have been all too real.

Certainly, by 1963, and with Philby having fled to Moscow twelve years after Burgess and Maclean had blazed a traitor trail, and MI5 having been definitively told about Blunt’s treachery, then the imperative would have switched to a clean-up operation. To an operation to protect Blunt at all costs.

This is why Ward had to die.

This is why his girls had to die.

Stephen Ward was an undoubted mind-control expert, but could he really programme someone to kill; to create a Manchurian candidate?

Ward’s girl Ruth Ellis could be cited as just such an example. Certainly one of the bullets that smashed into the torso of David Blakely was shot from point-blank range and, therefore, must have been fired by Ellis.

But what then of the role of the MI5 asset and “crack shot” Desmond Cussen who was lurking in the bushes as Blakely breathed his last?

It seems likely that whoever orchestrated Blakely’s slaying did not have complete confidence in Ruth’s ability to go through with this execution and so procured an insurance policy that would lurk in the Hampstead shadows like a tramp on a grassy knoll.

Perhaps creating a programmed assassin was just a step too far?

Let us return to Ruth Ellis’s last letter from prison, the letter addressed “To the Few I know”. Ruth had been a nightclub hostess of many years standing and knew, probably, hundreds of people, prominent people; and what of her curious use of the capital F? In Britain ‘the Few’ were the airmen who thwarted the Luftwaffe in the Battle of Britain – never in the field of human conflict has so much been owed to so many by so few - and it was these self-same Few that frequented the White Hart public house in Brasted which was also frequented by Ruth Ellis, her husband George and Stephen Ward. The same White Hart public house that was also frequented by the spies Burgess and Maclean. The same White Hart public house that was run by the ex-naval intelligence officer, Teddy Preston. 

Celebrating ‘the Few’ at the White Hart

The family of the spy Donald Maclean lived in the same village as the family of the slain Ellis victim David Blakely; Penn in Buckinghamshire. Was this a mere coincidence, or could Blakely have known the truth about Maclean and his ‘spying activities’? It would certainly explain Ellis’s reluctance to provide an alibi for the shooting as it “seemed traitorous – absolutely traitorous.”

It would also explain the necessity to protect Blunt by wiping out Ward and his team. 

Perhaps the likes of Burgess, Maclean and Philby were the Stalin worshiping comrades that history tells us and they were duly sending back secrets to Uncle Joe – only they had been stitched up by the royal bastard Blunt who had seen to it that they only ever handed over exactly what the Brits wanted them too. This would certainly explain why Blunt was so protected and for so long.

Therefore, if Ruth had been recruited and trained to support a team that were ensuring that only selective information was passed on to the Soviets and Blakely somehow threatened this operation then he would have to go. Remember, it would have been absolutely imperative that the Americans never discover this deception. Better to admit that Britain had been infiltrated by Reds under the bed than that this was actually a state sponsored programme to deliberately drip-feed American atomic secrets to the Russians.

So, what if rather than a state sponsored programme to create assassins we have a state sponsored programme to create patsies – convenient victims programmed to take responsibility – that were being run by ex-RAF pilots.

Remember that top RAF Battle of Britain pilot Leonard Cheshire and his wife were in cahoots with the Tavistock Institute.

Remember also that the procurement of sexually incriminating blackmail materials was a key strand of this strategy.

Felix de Wolfe, who lived next door to Lord Franks and in the same apartment as the Process Church head-honchos, was a former RAF intelligence man. After the war he became a theatrical agent.

One of Felix’s clients was the actor Roddy McDowall who, in the mid-seventies, was arrested by the FBI over the possession, and alleged pirating, of his extensive film collection. McDowall was an avid collector of 16mm movies and would convert these movies onto video cassettes. Interestingly, McDowall purchased a large part of his collection from Errol Flynn, who, you may remember, was outed as a Scientologist by L. Ron Hubbard Jr. McDowall, ultimately, was not charged with any offence largely because, at that time, VCR’s were not commercially available and this allowed McDowall to argue that there was no existing market for his home-made copies.

Now, whilst that was certainly true, this story does primarily concern the possible pirating of movies and any associated copyright breaches, it does not mention what the nature of these movies was. McDowall does mention in his testimony that some of his ‘clients’ were introduced to him by his agent, Felix de Wolfe. It also establishes McDowall as someone who possessed the requisite technology to have been copying illicit movie materials. Snuff-movies perhaps?

Which all serves to remind me of Charles Manson’s claim that ‘Dennis Wilson gave me a $5,000 videotape, TV thing for tapes that fit only to an elite bunch (porno ring) that was worldwide.’ Could Roddy McDowall have been part of that ring?

Could, therefore, the Processeans mentor, Felix de Wolfe have been the conduit for so many of McDowall’s prominent US contacts?

The following extract comes from the actor, and de Wolfe client, Robert Lindsay’s book, Letting Go.

Me and My Girl opened on Broadway in 1985 and the above clearly demonstrates that de Wolfe had long-standing ties to the US scene. Ties that, by then, may not have seemed too impressive to Lindsay, but long-standing ties to the American show business industry nevertheless.

Snuff-movies were the reason Charles Manson gave for his ordering of the slaying of Roman Polanki’s wife and the Cielo Drive atrocities. Manson’s ‘family’ would also serve as the perfect example of willing and able patsies.

Manson, though, was likely involved in very similar operations himself, and, besides, could hardly claim to be an arbiter of morality, so why did he get the Cielo Drive gig? Probably because he gave a guarantee of causing maximum shock, horror and outrage that would incur total panic amongst middle-America.

Manson was connected to The Process: Church of the Final Judgement who also, lest we forget, produced some pretty effective stooges of their own and had been linked with both Sirhan Sirhan and David Berkowitz, who claimed that at least one of the Son of Sam murders was videotaped for the snuff market.

Manson seems to have been a Process sponsored goon employed to provide a clean-up service that ensured that any Process shaped fingerprints were well and truly wiped and to carry on on the Jack the Stripper style removal of key witnesses and to obfuscate the very high-level governmental connections operating behind the scenes.

Circles within circles; ripples across an ocean.

We should also remember that Felix de Wolfe and Robert de Grimston lived next door to Rhodes Group and Rockefeller operative Lord Oliver Franks who believed that America was still a British colony. That being the case he would also, presumably, believe that any American secrets were, in essence, British secrets that they could do whatever they liked with.

Could the Processeans have been a product of Oliver Franks murky New World Order?

[Source]

Even in 2016, a full forty years after the Son of Sam atrocities, David Berkowitz found himself being moved to a new secure institution simply for mentioning the Process in a letter. Clearly, someone is still protecting The Process: Church of the Final Judgement, but who, and why?

The bitter truth is that the Processeans, like the Scientologists, like Son of Sam, like Charles Manson, like Christine Keeler, like Ruth Ellis etc. are all the products of state sponsored attempts to suppress the masses to protect insidious regimes.

The likes of the Cliveden Set and their acolytes such as Lord Franks were ultimately believers in the supposed supremacy of the British Empire and would do whatever it took to maintain and preserve it. If this meant providing misinformation to the US, then so be it, if this meant feeding atomic secrets to the Reds, then no problem. Franks personally employed three of the Cambridge five when he was Ambassador to the US. Was he aware of their supposed communist allegiances? Of course he was. Roger Hollis would have ensured that. It would, therefore, appear likely that the actions of Philby, Maclean and Burgess were not traitorous or treacherous in the accepted sense of the term but were, in fact, actually designed to protect the Empire at whatever means. I have no doubt that they may well have passed sensitive information to the Russians, but ultimately with the connivance, and sanction, of the British secret services.

Stephen Ward, like Philby, Maclean and Burgess before him, was sacrificed to protect the higher-ups; the likes of Anthony Blunt and Victor Rothschild. How else could Blunt have remained in such exalted company and retained such high-held positions for so long after the emergence of his ‘treachery’ unless he remained an asset?

It was the evidence of this activity, and the extent of the cover-up, that was being purged from the vaults of the Baker Street branch of Lloyds Bank.

Of course, these theories are no more than speculation on my part; accumulated from information purloined from the world-wide-web, assembled by other researchers, and combined with my own experiences to form this analysis. However, I wasn’t there so I cannot vouch entirely for it.

To be fair I wasn’t there when the Stripper Killer victims met their maker, but I moved in those circles and knew all the supporting cast: I knew Ward, I knew Rachman, I knew Asher and I knew Miller.

Christine Keeler, Mandy Rice-Davies, Mariella Novotny, Vickie Barrett, John Profumo, George Harrison-Marks; all players in this drama and all friends of mine.

Robert de Grimston, Mary Ann MacLean, Felix de Wolfe, L. Ron Hubbard, DCI Samuel Herbert; none of these people entered my orbit, but I knew their type and I know enough to piece this all together. If I choose to defame, slander or libel them then I do so with the confidence that time will prove me correct.

If I am wrong then let them open the files and prove it; let the public see what the Establishment wishes to keep concealed.

Stephen Ward was, in many ways, my mentor and I his muse. Just like Chrissie and just like Mandy. He showed me the ropes; how to join them and how to climb them. If I hadn’t left for Australia I could have inherited his operation. I was his apprentice. Of course, I didn’t realise it at that time - I was just a young boy - but somebody had to carry on his work. Someone will have carried on his work. I had a narrow escape.

Stephen Ward was neither pimp nor traitor but, depending on your point of view, he was possibly something far worse. He operated a finishing school for mind-control victims.

Vulnerable young men and women who were being probed, examined, assessed and audited for one reason; to discover their weaknesses. Once they had it, you were theirs. If they couldn’t find an obvious flaw they would engineer a compromising situation and record it and use this tool to blackmail you. You were theirs.

Stephen Ward was, after all, a trained intelligence operative schooled in these dark arts. Dark arts, old as time immemorial, but refined by the sinister Tavistock Institute before being deployed by their sponsors and agents.

Let me summarise my conclusions.

The contents of the mysterious Baker Street security box contained:

Stephen Ward’s blackmail cache: The contents of which could have brought the British monarchy crashing down and severed forever the so-called ‘special relationship’ between the US and UK; it contained details, and images, of the sexual assignations of the Dolphin Square set: politicians, civil-servants, judges, clergymen, businessmen, actors, musicians, aristocrats and royalty; often with minors, often with members of the same sex and often of acts of dubious legality. It contained details that would prove that Britain was deliberately allowing US atomic secrets to be passed on to Russia. It also contained details of the genealogical ledgers that identified those who may possess the ancient, psychic gene.

The existence of this cache would lead to the downfall of both the then government and Stephen Ward. Ward made powerful enemies.

This cache, which included contributions from numerous sources, locations, photographers and cinematographers, passed through many hands after Ward’s death. It is highly likely that the lawyer David Jacobs died because of what he knew about this cache and its location, and certainly the ‘spy’ Anthony Blunt was actively pursuing it.

It landed up in the hands of Michael de Freitas, aka Michael X, who embellished it with information concerning which police officers were on the payroll, which officers were shagging which whores and the cast-lists of certain home-movies. This included details of the arrangement with DCI Samuel Herbert to bring down Stephen Ward and to dispose of the victims of the on-going snuff-movie racket, known colloquially as the Jack the Stripper murders.

These victims included Hannah Tailford; amongst whose autopsy report was a map of the Brick Lane area in the East End of London. A strange thing to be included in an investigation into the death of a west London tart methinks.

The significance though was that it provided an evidential link between the supply of amphetamines that were travelling from right to left across the capital via the west London brasses and their suppliers: the notorious Kray twins.

A supply trail that could only continue to exist, much like the Kray twins criminal empire, with the connivance of a cabal of bent coppers.

The Kray twins were not only providing the speed, however, they were also providing a ready supply of care home boys ripe for abuse, murder and potential blackmail situations.

Abuse by the likes of Lord Boothby and Tom Driberg; MP’s from opposite sides of the political floor but high profile enough to require that their misdemeanours be hushed up. Particularly as Driberg was an MI5, and possibly KGB, informer.

Boothby, meanwhile, was fucking not just young boys and gangsters but also the Prime Minister’s wife, and possibly also the Queen Mother, whilst Driberg, thanks to his stint as the William Hickey gossip columnist had his own dodgy dossiers dishing the dirt on the great and the good. All of which made these two immune from the usual blackmail threats that emanated from Ward’s cache of filth.

All of which made MI5 very twitchy. None of this could come out. Ever.

MI5, and its American counterparts the CIA, were the chief beneficiaries of the mind-control techniques that the Tavistock Institute had developed on their behalf. These mind-control victims in the UK were being handled by a clique of highly-trusted former RAF Battle of Britain pilots.

MI5 opted to primarily utilise this mind-control programme to expand its own blackmail dossiers and in so doing found that snuff-movies were a particularly useful tool for adding contacts to its ever expanding mailing list of perverts. It also learnt that the snuff-movies made for a particularly useful tool in providing trauma based imagery when ‘training’ new Project Monarch mind-control recruits.

Roman Polanski proved to be an enthusiastic participant in directing these movies after George Harrison Marks’s early efforts proved rather uninspiring.

The Americans preferred to focus their efforts onto the ‘benefits’ that LSD could bring; specifically, or so they hoped, a means to blackmail an entire generation in much the same way that religion had done up to now. That failed. As did their attempt to blackmail Kennedy when he threatened to break up their cosy regime; both Kennedy and his potential blackmailer/drug supplier, Mary Pinchot Meyer, had to die in order to keep that quiet.

Not that the Americans were slow to see the advantages of the snuff-movie either. They happily allowed Polanski to ship his operation to the west coast just as they were happy to allow The Process: Church of the Final Judgement to set up shop in New York, San Francisco and LA – after being properly financed and tooled via stop-offs at the CIA bank in the Bahamas and then Mexico. The Processeans being the ideal vehicle with which to recruit the disaffected and absolutely the last thing the public would associate with the CIA, the US government or the Establishment in general.

The Process: Church of the Final Judgement were the vanguards of a movement that was designed to bring panic and fear to the streets; to orchestrate and engineer murders and serial killers, to promote racial intolerance and division and to dispense mayhem. All so that we, the general public, willingly give up our hard-earned freedoms in the, so-called, name of personal safety.

The Process, just like Stephen Ward before them, are front-men for intelligence operations.

Things went tits-up for the snuff operation though when it became just a little too well known on the Hollywood circuit. Afraid that idle gossip may scupper the operation the Processeans were sent to approach Charlie Manson, another intelligence asset, to demand that he solve the Polanski situation. He did. And in such a way that was guaranteed to bring maximum public outrage and horror.

Rumours abound that the slaying of Polanski’s wife and friends was also captured for posterity on Super-8; to be viewed only by the select few on the sicko circuit.

In practice the intelligence agencies had themselves the perfect little set-up. Whenever you wanted some dirty work done you could send along one of your pre-prepared, pre-programmed minions; safe in the knowledge that should they be caught you could blame it all on the evil, black-magic, devil-worshipping Satanists.

This was the late sixties – by which time I was safely tucked up in the bosom of Oz – and it must have become clear to the Tavistock collaborators that what had seemed such a great idea initially was now taking a great deal of time and effort just to keep all the various plates spinning.

I guess a plan was needed to scale back on all this. By February 1971 Michael X was out of the UK and in Trinidad with an MI5 operative – the doomed Gale Ann Benson – ensconced within to keep an evil eye on his whereabouts. Meanwhile, back in the UK, MI5 were now free to launch the operation to capture any and all outstanding evidence against them.

On September 11, 1971 the Baker Street robbery commenced and the robbers left a cheeky message scrawled upon a wall: ‘Let’s see how Sherlock Holmes solves this one’.

Well, turns out you don’t need a Victorian sleuth to crack this case, just a teenage porn-star!

This is the culmination of thirty years of hard graft; the last ten getting into Ward, and the last two writing these memoirs, and all the while working rolling 24/7 shifts since 1990 and then full-time researching and writing since I became a pensioner. It almost gave me a mental breakdown.

Now I sit sipping whisky and enjoying life!

So thanks for letting me sound off. I just thought somebody else ought to know the score. Was this a weird enough story for you? If you believe me or not; that’s up to you, I can prove none of this, but one day I know I’ll be proved right.