This is what happens when you call a lie a lie.

    That’s what my former law firm lawyer told me.

    And it’s what I’ve been telling myself ever since.

    I was arrested in May 2009 for the murder of a man I’d never met.

    The police had seen me at a convenience store in a small Canadian town.

    I’d done nothing wrong.

    I had been out at a bar with friends.

    The man had asked me to meet him in the parking lot, but when I showed up, he was gone.

    The only thing I remember of him was that he had a gun.

    In court, I told the jury I had no memory of the night I was brutally murdered.

    The Crown argued that I had.

    The defence countered that I was the victim of a conspiracy.

    A conspiracy theory has been used as evidence in more than a dozen Canadian murder trials since 2006.

    A person or organisation commits a crime if they do something illegal and they don’t stop doing it.

    In the United States, this is known as conspiracy to commit murder.

    The Crown had my name on a list of people they were looking for to be the “most wanted man” in the U.S. It also had my home address.

    But they were wrong about my location.

    I never was the person they were searching for.

    I was arrested when I returned from a friend’s birthday party.

    There was no way they could have found me.

    I wasn’t a fugitive, they were saying.

    I lived in a house in my town, not a town in the United Kingdom.

    So why was I on their list?

    Why was I arrested?

    The answer was simple.

    I told them that I’d been murdered.

    I don’t remember much of what happened in the months that followed.

    I just sat in the cell and kept my head down.

    The RCMP kept me locked in the cells.

    The officers who searched me, they called me a pervert and a murderer.

    The day after my arrest, I was released.

    I still didn’t know what happened.

    My lawyer, Paul W. Smith, told me he was surprised.

    I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.

    I asked him if I could see him.

    He said he didn’t want me to see him, but he agreed.

    The next time I saw him was a few days later, at the courthouse.

    Smith said he thought I was dead.

    He told me that I didn, in fact, live on the street.

    I could have gotten killed.

    The RCMP said they found no evidence that I killed the man.

    But that didn’t stop them from telling me what happened and asking me to tell the truth.

    In other words, they lied.

    I asked my lawyer, who is now a defence lawyer in the province of Quebec, why he had taken such a stand.

    I thought, Well, he’s a lawyer.

    I’m not going to be a liar in court, he said.

    He also said that he didn`t feel like he was doing the right thing.

    I felt like I was going to die.

    The man who murdered me told me later that the only reason he didn�t want to talk to me was that I could tell him something I didn�re not telling.

    I said nothing.

    But the man, who was later identified as James Broughton, told the police that he’d been drinking and didn’t have any trouble telling me about my crimes.

    I started telling him about them, he claimed.

    Then I said I’d had a few drinks with him.

    And I told him what happened at the bar.

    He started crying.

    I gave him my business card and told him to come over and talk to the police.

    I went to the courthouse, but they wouldn�t let me see him in person.

    So I went to his home, where I asked for a lawyer to represent me in court.

    I told him I was a lawyer, he told me no one would hire me, and that I shouldn�t be afraid of them.

    I also told him that the police were lying to him.

    They told me it was all a big conspiracy.

    They were lying.

    They said I was just an innocent bystander who got a ride to the bar with a guy who had no intention of doing anything wrong.

    The prosecutor said they couldn’t prove it.

    I pleaded with him to go ahead and let me take the stand, but his response was that we weren’t going to prove anything.

    I wasn’t scared, he explained.

    I knew I was innocent.

    I understood that the court was not going be going to accept the police version of events.

    So that’s what we were going to do.

    The prosecutor told me to say anything I wanted to say in court if I didn`tt believe him.

    I got up and left.

    The following day, a judge ruled that the Crown had no evidence of any crime

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