ARREST STATEMENT OF ROY ARTHUR TOPHAM REGARDING HIS ARREST AND INCARCERATION BY THE RCMP ON  WEDNESDAY, MAY 16TH, 2012 IN QUESNEL, B.C.  ON THE CHARGE OF:

“Willful Promotion of Hatred CC 319(2)”

Posted May 16th, 2013 on 1st Anniversary of this Event

By

Arthur Topham

[Editor’s Note: In the interests of freedom of speech and freedom of the Internet I am posting my “Arrest Statement” which my former lawyer Mr. Douglas Christie advised me to write soon after my arrest on May 16th, 2012. His wise counsel was that this case would likely drag on in the courts for years and by the time it came to trial (should such an event arise) that many of the details of my recollection of that fateful day would by then be hazy and doubtful. Acting on Mr. Christie’s advice I wrote out a detailed description of what took place that May morning last year. It’s an interesting picture of what can happen to you here in Canada should the Jewish lobby decide they don’t like being criticized. Read. Heed. And please pass it on to your friends and associates. ~Arthur Topham]

On Wednesday, May 16th, 2012 I started out my work day travelling out to my mining property on the 2400 Rd off the Barkerville Hwy to meet up with the Petro Canada fuel truck at 9:30 a.m. I was having the company fuel truck filled with 1200 gallons of diesel fuel for use during the upcoming placer mining operations for this season. When that was completed I returned home to my residence at 4633 Barkerville Hwy and prepared for a trip up to Prince George where I had to go to the Richie  Bros. Auctioneers site to pick up some mining equipment that my business associate had recently purchased at an auction on May 10th. My business partner and wife, Shastah Topham, came along with me and we left our home at approximately 11:00 a.m. heading west toward Quesnel.

Plans had also been made ahead of time to meet another mining associate at Princess Auto in Prince George at 1 p.m. and between the two of us we would haul equipment back to my placer claims on the 2400 Road.

Due to the fact that the Petro Canada fuel truck was a bit late in arriving at the site plus the additional time necessary to fuel the 1200 gallon truck I was running behind schedule by about half an hour.

We were travelling in a 2009 Chev pickup owned by my mining associate with whom I am presently in a Joint Venture Agreement.

When one leaves my property at 4633 Barkerville Hwy you must turn right on to the Barkerville Hwy in order to travel toward Quesnel and Hwy 97 the route necessary to travel in order to get to Prince George. The section of Hwy 26 (Barkerville Hwy) that runs past my residence stretches in a straight line for approximately 1 km. As soon as I pulled out on to the road I immediately saw that there was a white pickup truck sitting adjacent to the eastbound lane of highway just before the road descended down a small dip and passes Cottonwood Historic Site.

As we drove toward it I remarked to my wife, “There’s the cops sitting there. Looks like they’re either waiting to catch Willie again or maybe they’re doing surveillance on Don Carter’s property. Don Carter has been experiencing ongoing harassment by the Canadian Revenue Agency over the past few years and has also had numerous encounters with the RCMP in conjunction with the CRA.

As we approached the white pickup we could see two men in dark clothing sitting in it trying to look as unobtrusive as possible. Again I said to my wife, “If we weren’t running so damn late I’d stop and asked them if they were lost or needed any assistance.”

As we crested the dip and passed Cottonwood Historic Site I noted that within a minute or so the white pickup was now following us. I asked my wife is she was buckled up (she was) and then I set my vehicle on cruise control at about 95 cpm. The limit was 90 kph so I knew that at least if the cops were going to stop me they wouldn’t have the excuse that I was speeding.

As we proceeded on toward Quesnel Shastah was spoon-feeding me my breakfast as I drove because we were too late for me to sit down at home and eat before leaving. I remarked to my wife that the cops were likely watching us through their binoculars and wondering what she was doing. We also were discussing the vehicle that was now so obviously tailing us. It’s always a joke for the locals around Cottonwood when the police come and try to set up either a surveillance vehicle or radar to catch unwary speeders. The cops never seem to understand that when you live in a very small, tight-knit community that everyone in the area is very aware of who drives what type of vehicle and when they see a vehicle parked on the side of the highway with people sitting in it they know right away that they’re either broke down or else cops.

We continued along the highway talking about cops and related issues until we reached the top of 11 Mile Hill. When one begins to descend you are overlooking the Fraser Valley viewshed and can see westward for over a hundred kilometres. About half way down I noted that a regular white coloured RCMP van with the usual bells and whistles was now directly behind the white pickup. At the same time, due to the steep grade of the hill, I was also watching my own speedometer to make sure I didn’t begin coasting beyond the 100 km speed limit. As we neared the bottom of the hill the RCMP van’s lights came on. I told Shastah and proceeded to slow down and pull over on the right hand side of the highway just where the road levelled off.

By the time we did these two tasks more police vehicles arrived and there were suddenly four or more of them along the side of the highway. I rolled down my window and in the rear view mirror could see three or more officers approaching the rear of the truck. One of them called out to me by name saying “Mr. Topham, would you get out of the vehicle and come to the rear of the vehicle.” Knowing that I was driving my business partner’s 2009 Chev Silverado and wasn’t registered to me, I knew immediately that these officers were not not just stopping me on a whim or that they didn’t know who they had been following. I called out of my window, “Do you want to see my driver’s license. One officer, who I realized later was the leader of the pack (Terry Wilson), repeated his command that I get out of the vehicle and again I asked him if I should bring my license to which he answered in the affirmative.

Leaving Shastah inside I got out and walked to the rear of the truck. I was immediately approached by an officer who I assumed was in charge. He introduced himself as Terry Wilson and then told me that I was being placed under arrest. Immediately following that another young male officer came up to me on my left carrying a clipboard in hand and told me that he was going to read me the charge and then proceeded to state, “there are reasonable grounds for believing that the following offences have been committed: “Wilful Promotion of Hatred contrary to Section 319(2) of the Criminal Code.”

He then asked me if I heard and understood what the charges were and in the same breath also said that I had the right to remain silent and that anything I said could and would be used against me. I told him and the rest of the cops standing around that they had no right to be charging me with said crime and their alleged “hate” crime was nothing but more bogus charges likely brought on by Harry Abrams and B’nai Brith Canada and that this whole charade was nothing more that an extension of the Section 13 complaint charge that Abrams had filed against me back in 2007. Meanwhile Wilson and his crew were all standing by with their trusty little digital voice recorders going.

After my little rant I acknowledged that I understood the charges even though I disagreed with them and the Terry Wilson proceeded to tell me to turn around and place my hands on the back of the truck so that he could handcuff and frisk me. When I turned around I noted that other officers, including a female one, had gone to and were talking with my wife Shastah on the passenger side of the vehicle.

When I realized that they were going to haul me off to jail I told Wilson that I would like to leave my personal effects that I had on me with my wife before he handcuffed me and he said that would be okay. I emptied my pockets of cash, keys, a memory stick that had on it a jpg of a Cariboo Placers Mining and Exploration Co business card that I had recently designed and was planning on taking to the printer in Quesnel. Wilson immediately grabbed it and asked what I had on it. I told him but I could sense that he already had it in his mind that possibly he had in his possession some incriminating evidence to back up the phoney charges and he held on to it. I also removed a small Swiss Army pen knife, diamond grit knife sharpener, lighter and then my regular Swiss Army knife which I was carrying in a leather case on my belt. I also removed my wrist watch and laid all of these articles on the retractable cover that was over the box of the truck.

After placing all of my personal effects on the deck cover I put my arms behind my back while Wilson did his thing and placed some plastic cuffs on me. All the while his manner and that of the other arresting officers was civil and congenial and ‘friendly’ to the point of being extreme. They addressed me as “Mr. Topham” and then asked me if I preferred to be addressed as either “Mr. Topham” or “Arthur.” I told them that Arthur was fine.

After Wilson fastened the handcuffs on me I asked him if I could go around the truck and speak to my wife before they took me away. He said that would be okay and then when I went to move another officer came up and held my arm when I began to walk saying that I should be careful not to fall down. I had to laugh to myself at their overly feigned concern for my physical welfare given that I normally am out either in the bush or on my mining claims where I’m climbing over logs or boulders. When I approached Shastah I told her that they had arrested me and were going to take me into town to jail and that she should come to the back of the truck and get my personal belongings. At this point my wife had a look of incredulity on her face and looked at the officers standing around her and said something to the effect, “Are you guys serious? You’re going to arrest my husband?” She was obviously becoming quite distraught. I told her that she would have to drive the truck when they took me away. She was unfamiliar with it as we had just acquired it as part of the business venture that we were in. She got out of the vehicle and came around to the rear where I had placed my personal effects and began putting them in a plastic bag. I then asked her to give me a kiss good bye as I had no idea of how long we might be separated from each other.

Wilson then told me that he would be taking me in to the Quesnel RCMP station and then two young officers held me and steered me toward a smaller, unmarked police vehicle. As we walked along the shoulder of the highway the female cop on my left introduced herself to me saying that her name was Normandie Levas and jokingly remarked that she was the better looking of the lot and that she would assist me in getting into the vehicle with the handcuffs so I didn’t have any trouble. They placed me in the back seat on the passenger side and then the two of them got in and proceeded to drive toward Quesnel with Normandie Levas driving. The female cop placed her digital voice recorder on the divider between the two seats and repeated to me that I was being recorded and then proceeded to elicit conversation from me. Having already told me first off that she was the better looking, attractive cop I jokingly commented to her that little good would it do me as there was no way I could even grope her with my hands behind my back.

It was about a 15 minute drive to the Quesnel police station and as we drove along the two cops got into talking about one thing or another. Again, Normandie Levas asked me if I preferred to be called “Arthur” or “Mr. Topham” and I told her the story about how I had been a school teacher for a number of years and that I had grown tired of hearing “Mr. Topham” “Mr. Topham” all the time from the children that I taught. She asked me what grades I had worked with and I told her that I mainly worked in the elementary level although I had later subbed in the high schools in Quesnel. I also described to her how I had started out my teaching career working in the federal Indian Day School system and from there moved to Wells, B.C. back in 1975 and had since lived in the area for the greater portion of the last forty years.

At one point while we were travelling down the highway I noted that Normandie was speeding well beyond the limit which was max. 90 km and I told her and she slowed down. The conversation turned to gold mining and I asked them if they were aware of the tv series called Gold Rush Alaska and they intimated that they were. I then proceeded to tell them about a local placer miner who was doing very well and was planning to start a made in BC version of a tv series similar to Gold Rush Alaska and that I’d just watched a trailer for it. The BC version was called “Gold Diggers.” I jokingly told them that maybe I could get them parts in the new upcoming drama and the male cop said that he had always wanted to be a movie star. I laughed and said that he would be better off being an honest cop rather than getting involved with Hollywood as it was run by the Jews and he’d eventually have to sell his soul to the Devil if he got caught up in it. Neither of the two cops reacted outwardly to my remark but I was certain they were thinking that they had got a juicy bit of racist hate mongering against the Jews regardless of the fact that what I had said was the truth.

When we arrived at the station and Normandie pulled in to the parking lot at the rear where all the cop cars were parked I asked her if they were going to put a hood over my head so that the local folks wouldn’t see them marching me into jail with handcuffs on. I was of course being facetious but she then turned around the car and proceeded to drive it into the building itself where a door was opened and we entered in. The two cops got out and Normandie then proceeded to remove her gun from her side and placed it in a  box outside the door leading into the station. When she did so I noted that a digital clock on the box read: 12:12 p.m.

I was then escorted into the station and led to the booking desk where I saw Terry Wilson standing in the hallway waiting for me. A young cop inside the office came up with a form in his hand to fill out and for me to sign regarding my personal effects and as he approached me asked me how I was. I thought to myself, “Do they really expect you to give them an honest answer given the circumstances?” and then remarked something to that effect. Terry Wilson then proceeded to ask me some questions about whether or not my home was locked or was wired with any explosive devices or if I had any firearms? I told him, facetiously, to watch out for the “grow op” and that yes, I did have firearms in my home and that two of them were loaded (a Marlin 22 and a Winchester 30-30) and in my bedroom and he should be careful. I also told him that I had two other unloaded rifles upstairs, a 22 calibre and a 30-30 Winchester.

It was at this point that he told me he was going to frisk me again before putting me in a cell and that I should remove me belt and my suspenders and my shoes. I said yes, I guess I’d better remove my suspenders so I couldn’t hang myself while in jail by “suspending” myself from the ceiling!

I then signed the form for my belongings and we proceeded to the jail cell with me walking in my stockinged feet. Wilson said that it would likely be two or three hours before I heard from him and also asked me if I had a lawyer that wished to call. When I mentioned Douglas Christie Wilson said that he knew Doug and would call him. He acted as if he and Doug were old high school buddies but then I thought to myself that yes, being in the “hate” business I’m sure that he would be aware of Mr.  Christie. It was about 12:20 p.m. when I was placed in a cell and the door locked. Wilson said he’d come and get me if he could get in contact with Mr. Christie.

Not too long afterwards Wilson came and opened the door and asked me to go down the hall to a small room where there was a seat and a phone hanging on the wall. He said he had got a hold of Mr. Christie and that when Doug called that a staff person in the office would re-direct the call to the phone in the room and that I would then be able to speak to Mr. Christie in confidence. I just smiled at Wilson when he said this knowing how the system works. I waited in the room and then the call finally came through and I spoke to Doug Christie. He advised me not to tell the police any more that I had to and that he would monitor the situation. I briefly explained what took place and then let the cops know I was done and they escorted me back to the jail cell.

I remained incarcerated throughout the afternoon and into the evening. One one occasion Wilson came again to the cell and got me to go and speak with Mr. Christie who had told me that he would be concerned if I was still being held after a few hours and not released. I didn’t realize at the time that Wilson was telling me it would be just a couple of more hours that the search warrant was for 1700 hours to 2100 hours and that I wouldn’t be released until after they had completed their search of my home.

Around 5 or 6 p.m. someone came by and opened a slot in the door and placed a tray on it with what appeared to be food and drink. They then hit the door with what sounded like a dog chain and left. No voice to say a meal was there. I stared at the tray and thought to myself that there was no way in hell I would accept food under these circumstances. I began to reflect that just a day or so before I was reading about a massive hunger strike that has been going on in Israel where thousands of Palestinians were being held in jail for upwards of years without having been charged with anything. There had been a world-wide call for solidarity with the hunger strikers, their conditions being extremely worse than mine, and so I said to myself that I would fast in solidarity with these political prisoners of the apartheid, Jews-only state of Israel rather than eat upon command. About a half an hour later another shadowy figure walked past the door and hit it again with the chain presumably to remind me that there was food on the tray. No human voice just the sound of metal on metal.

Later on when Wilson returned he asked me why I hadn’t eaten any of the food and I told him about the Palestinians and how I was fasting with them in solidarity. I doubt whether he knew what I was talking about and he said that if there was something else I might like to eat that he would try and get it for me. I hadn’t looked at what was on the plate so I didn’t know what it was. The styrofoam cup likely had coffee or juice in it.

Eventually around 10 p.m or later Wilson finally arrived and I was let out of the cell. He told me that he would be taking me upstairs to an office where my personal belongings would be returned and where we would be having a discussion regarding the charges that would be, of course, digitally recorded. At no point in our conversation did Wilson indicate that our conversations were being video taped. As I was emerging from the cell I looked Wilson in the eyes and asked him just what the charges were. He said that I was being charged for publishing “hatred toward the Jewish population.”

He also told me that even though I was now out of the cell that I was still considered to be under arrest. I proceeded barefoot upstairs to a small office and sat down. Wilson then laid his digital voice recorder on the desk and left the room for about three to five minutes without telling me where he was going. When he returned he gave me copies of the Search Warrant, the Undertaking Given to a Peace Officer or an Officer In Charge which contained the alleged offence of “Wilful Promotion of Hatred” under Section 319(2) of the Criminal Code occurring in “Quesnel, BC” from April 28, 2011 to May 14, 2012 plus a “PROMISE TO APPEAR” document. I informed Wilson at that point that my council had instructed me not to sign any documents and he was fine with that.

Wilson then began his attempt to initiate conversation with me. I had been instructed by my counsel not to engage in any discussions but I failed in that regard when Wilson began talking about how he had been reading the materials on my website RadicalPress.com over the course of the past year and longer and that he had concluded, based upon particular articles,that it was indeed a “hate” site. I countered his remark by stating to Wilson that possibly in his mind he felt it was a “hate” site but that was pure speculation on his part for the alleged complaint by Harry Abrams and Richard Warman was far from substantiated nor was it determined yet by a court of law at this point. He then went on to compliment me on my writing abilities saying that I was a very good writer but immediately launched into the same old standard arguments used by the Jewish Zionists making mention of the fact that I had on my website articles by Eustice Mullins plus the  Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion. Surely, he remarked, I must know that that small booklet was just a work of fiction designed to implicate the Jews in crimes for which they were innocent. I replied that whether the work was fictitious or not it now stands as a roadmap of the 20th Century clearly delineating the proposed agenda for the Zionists and that the record of events shown throughout that period were solid evidence that the booklet was a preconceived agenda for global hegemony on the part of the Rothschild/Zionist Internationalists. I told Wilson that anyone who had seriously studied 20 century world history (and here I made a point of stressing that I was referring to history written by those who were not pushing the Zionist version of history as it is found in the mainstream media) could easily see that the all the major pieces of the puzzle fell into place in terms of understanding how the Protocols, in fact, outline what the Zionist Jews planned to do in order to gain absolute control over the media, the economy, the judicial system and the political and social structures that comprise the framework upon which the world’s democratic system is based. I could see that Wilson was struggling with the notion of differing versions of history as opposed to just one.

Wilson then brought up the subject of an article which I had posted on my site titled, Israel Must Perish!  He began to tell me how it was an extremely hateful piece of writing and that he wondered why I had written and published such a hate-filled book. I had to laugh aloud (and I did). At the same moment I also thought to myself, “This person is supposed to be the head honcho in charge of determining what is and isn’t to be determined “hate” literature and he doesn’t have a clue what is going on here.” When he said, in a matter of fact tone that I had gone to the trouble of actually publishing this book and posting it on my website I told him that he had the whole thing wrong. I had NOT written such a book. The truth of the matter was that all the vile, hateful statements contained in the supposed book which he thought I had written were, IN FACT, verbatim, direct quotations from a real, actual book written by a Zionist Jew by the name of Theodore N. Kaufman and published in the United States of America back in 1941. The original book was called GERMANY MUST PERISH! and I had taken this booklet and written a parody of it in order to enlighten the public as to who the real perpetrators of supposed “hate literature” were. I don’t think that Wilson understood what a “parody” was and I could also see that he was having trouble understanding what I was explaining to him. I had the distinct impression that he was not happy with the fact that the one article which he apparently felt was conclusive proof that I was publishing “hatred toward the Jewish population” was, in fact, merely a poignant example of their own style of writing being turned upon itself in the form of an imitation in order to highlight their utter malfeasance when it came to denigrating the German people. It was also quite evident to me that the choices of articles which Wilson had used in his interrogation had been supplied to him by Abrams and Warman as absolute examples of “hatred”.

Wilson kept on going on about other materials but I was done with any further discussion and told him so. He then asked me how my experience in jail was and whether or not I was satisfied that I had been treated well. I said that I felt I was generally treated in a respectful manner with one exception. Oh, he said, and what was that? I then point-blank asked him whether or not he wiped his ass after taking a shit. He looked a bit taken aback but replied that he did. Why then did he put me in a cell for close to twelve hours without providing me with the basic necessity of toilet paper so that in the event I had a bowel movement that I could at least wipe myself? Did he expect me to take a crap on camera and then attempt to wash my ass in the little stainless steel sink that was provided and afterwards use my T-shirt to dry my hands? His response was that I could have called out to a guard or the jail keeper down the hall if I was in need of having a crap and that they would then provide me with the necessary accoutrement for the job. I told him that he should have informed me of this process prior to locking me up and leaving me without the bare essentials to attend to any toileting that might arise. Wilson had no further comments to make and then an attendant arrived with my personal belongings and after putting my belt back on Wilson walked with me down to the front entrance of the police station where he let me out the front door. There waiting for me was my dear, distraught wife Shastah.