- guardian.co.uk, Monday March 13 2000 01.19 GMT
The walls of Caplan's tiny, functional office in London's Clerkenwell are hung with cartoons, most of them marking the highlights of the case of a lifetime. Above his desk, the room's only touch of colour is a court artist's drawing of the historic scene in the House of Lords when the law lords pronounced their final judgment removing the legal obstacles to Pinochet's extradition to Spain to face torture charges. Caplan appears as an anonymous figure in a far corner, belying his central role in the saga.
After 16 months on the unrelenting rollercoaster the case turned out to be, he admits he breathed a sigh of relief when the Chilean air force 707 taxied down the runway 10 days ago, within hours of Jack Straw's decision that the general was unfit to stand trial and would not be extradited to Spain. As the plane started to move, "there was a great sense with all the officials there, of witnessing a bit of history".
He almost ended up as an extra to the jubilant entourage when he boarded the plane to hand the general the plate Lady Thatcher had entrusted to him. She had left strict instructions that Caplan, who travelled to Waddington airbase as part of the convoy, should hand over the plate, inscribed "Margaret Thatcher", only when his client was safely on the plane. But his getaway wasn't as swift as he'd planned. "A lot of people wanted to say goodbye to me and express their thanks, which I found rather embarrassing - embarrassing in the sense that I have a role to play and my role was to deal with the legal issues. It was only when I got off that I was told they had closed the doors and taken the steps away. They had had to put the steps back up."
Only when the plane took off could Caplan be sure that his client was safely on his way home to Chile at last. Up to that point, a last-ditch legal challenge by human rights groups or one of the four countries seeking his extradition could have blocked his departure.
Tension was high as the convoy headed down the motorway. "I realised that even though we'd received the decision from the home office at eight o'clock that morning, the case was far from over. I had set up direct links with my office so I would be informed on a separate line whilst we were moving up the A1. I had to take along a separate mobile because the press had got hold of my mobile number. There were lawyers and police officers in the car and every time the phone rang, everyone looked anxiously at it."
The case had taken over much of Caplan's life since the Friday in October 1998 when Pinochet was arrested. He needed a lawyer fast. Kingsley Napley, Caplan's firm, was recommended for its international law reputation - one of his partners, Stephen Pollard, had represented rogue trader Nick Leeson - and Caplan, with previous experience in extradition cases, met the Pinochet family on the Sunday.
Kingsley Napley supports Amnesty International, the human rights group that worked hard to deliver Pinochet to his Spanish accusers, but there was never any question of turning the ex-dictator down. Unlike barristers, solicitors are not obliged to take on any client who seeks their help, but criminal lawyers are not in the business of turning away unpopular clients.
If they were, hate figures like Myra Hindley, Ian Brady, Harold Shipman and Fred and Rosemary West would go unrepresented. Caplan, who sits as a part-time judge for four weeks a year, sees himself as fulfilling a professional role, like a doctor, who would never refuse to treat a patient just because he he was accused of heinous crimes.
He will not divulge where his own political sympathies lie but most criminal lawyers, who tend to have an anti-establishment streak, are more likely to be leftish than rightish in their views. He faced abuse from human rights campaigners and was even assaulted coming out of court, but he makes no complaint. "I'm a great believer in free speech. I hope people will understand that I'm carrying out my duty to a client, in the same way as a surgeon would to a patient."
At first the issues seemed simple: could one country try another country's former head of state for crimes against humanity? When the Lord Chief Justice, Lord Bingham, heard the case with two other judges in the High Court, the judges had only two lever-arch files of documents, and they quickly decided that Pinochet was immune from prosecution under the State Immunity Act.
But the case was to go to the House of Lords three times, getting more and more complex, till by the end each judge had 20 lever-arch files. On the first appeal, the law lords overturned the High Court judgment by a three to two margin, opening the way for extradition. Then Kingsley Napley was tipped off by an anonymous phone call that Lord Hoffmann, whose decision tipped the balance, was an unpaid director of the fundraising charity arm of Amnesty International, the human rights group which had argued for Pinochet's extradition during the appeal. It later emerged that Kingsley Napley had contributed £1,000 in response to a fund-raising letter from Amnesty that mentioned Hoffmann as a director. Caplan says he has no recollection of the letter, if he ever saw it, and was unaware of Hoffmann's role.
But what could be done? The law lords are the final court of appeal and they had never overturned one of their own judgments. "We had to feel our way, to work out whether we could create what was to be legal history." A different panel of law lords decided that Hoffmann was disqualified by his interest in Amnesty from hearing the case and set the judgment aside. A new panel of seven law lords ruled by six to one that Pinochet could be prosecuted, but only on charges of torture and conspiracy to torture, and only for offences committed after December 8 1988, cutting the number of charges from 31 to three. Spain promptly came up with new charges. Whether it had power to do so or jurisdiction to try Pinochet for crimes that did not involve Spanish nationals would have been argued at the habeas corpus hearing, listed to start a week today. But Jack Straw intervened.
The proposal that Pinochet should undergo a medical examination came from the home secretary, Caplan confirms. "There was an approach to me asking if the senator would undergo a medical examination by clinicians appointed by the home secretary on the basis that any report would be confidential to him and to us."
He has always refused to comment on Pinochet's health and was "saddened" when the details of the medical report leaked out through a Spanish newspaper. On the one occasion when he had to speak publicly on his client's medical problems - to excuse his inability to appear at the magistrates' court - he was careful to be "extremely circumspect".
Pinochet has escaped prosecution in Europe but back in Chile new travails are in store. The prosecuting authorities have decided to pursue charges against him. His son, Marco Antonio, said: "I'm sure this will go on and on until my father is dead."
The case has sent a message to tyrants everywhere that international conventions against torture and hostage-taking have real effect in law. "The fundamental point is clearly that the law evolves, it doesn't stand still," says Caplan. But he believes the national courts of unconnected countries are not the right places to decide such issues. "It does show the need for an international forum supported by every country."
