TONY MARTIN was woken in his bed by the sound of armed police swooping to handcuff and arrest him for murder.
Earlier that night, the panicked farmer had shot at two burglars who broke into his secluded property — killing one.
He was later jailed over the death of Fred Barras, 16. His defence was he pulled the trigger as a warning.
Now, two and half decades on from the confrontation that divided a nation, reclusive Mr Martin insists he is innocent and says he has no regrets over that fateful night.
But in a rare exclusive interview with The Sun he claims he was “stitched up” by police, lawyers, prosecutors and judges at his trial and hopes his name will one day be cleared.
Mr Martin also reveals he has visited Fred Barras’s grave, and insists he “felt no remorse” standing over it.
He simply questions: “How can I feel for the criminals who brought all this on me?”
Yet despite strongly believing his actions were justified, he confesses he has “lost the energy and faith in the justice system” to fight his conviction, adding: “My life has never been the same after that night.
“Everything is different now. I’ve never been the same.”
Mr Martin says of his reaction to catching intruders in his home: “How can you be guilty lying asleep in your own bed?
“I ask people, ‘How do you know how you would react if someone came into your home, in the dark, in the night and you’re on your own?’.
“I still don’t understand how I could’ve been found guilty.
“I tried to defend my home, my private space. I was just a man, asleep, for goodness sake. Not some roaming vigilante.”
Recalling the night Bleak House in Emneth Hungate, Norfolk, was raided, Mr Martin — now 79 — says: “I had been to see my mother, bless her soul. I had got home, had a bottle of wine, settled down with a Farmers Weekly and fell asleep.
“I remember hearing noises. I knew someone was in the house. I knew I had a gun in the house, I just didn’t know where it was.
“I ask anyone, ‘What would you do in that situation?’. I eventually found my gun, which I hadn’t used for a long time, under the bed with some old newspapers. I don’t remember much after that.
“I was sure I hadn’t shot anyone. The next thing I knew was the police were on top of me in my bed.
“What happened after was all a great shock, a great injustice. I don’t see how I would act differently. I have no regrets.”
Today, Mr Martin tells how being jailed for murder sent his life into a downward spiral, bringing worry to his beloved mother Hilary and costing him friendships.
When he was finally freed from prison he lived like a hermit — at one point sleeping in his car.
And he admits he still has little sympathy for the burglars, saying: “I pay the criminals no thought at all.
“Maybe I am being kind by even calling them criminals. Thanks to them, everything has been a blur for me for the last 25 years.”
At the time of the burglary, in August 1999, Mr Martin was 54 and had been working on and around £3million Bleak House, which he inherited from his aunt.
It was in total darkness when he realised he was not alone in the property.
Making his way to the stairwell of the labyrinth-like farmhouse, he blasted his gun.
I still don’t understand how I could’ve been found guilty
Tony Martin
Two more shots were fired as the intruders fled. Fred was hit in the leg and back, dying at the scene.
His accomplice, Brendon Fearon, then 29, was shot in the leg and survived.
Fearon was later jailed for three years for his part in a conspiracy to burgle the property, accompanied by Fred.
Yet Mr Martin was charged with offences including murder, attempted murder and possessing a firearm with intent to endanger life.
He slammed police handling of his case, raging: “It’s injustice. I felt like I was stitched up. I thought they decided I was guilty and didn’t want to look at facts that showed I wasn’t.
“I thought the police liked the idea that I was lying there in my clothes every night, holding a shotgun, waiting for people. The reality was, yes, I fell asleep in my clothes.
“But I acted on instinct. I felt under attack. That is all.”
A ballistics expert in his trial at Norwich Crown Court said evidence backed Mr Martin’s claim he was coming down the stairs when he opened fire.
Prosecutors accused him of lying in wait and shooting without warning after previous break-ins.
And they alleged Mr Martin, who had owned guns from a young age, had repeatedly threatened to blast any thieves or travellers in the lead-up to the break-in, as well as arguing he had booby-trapped his rundown home in anticipation of a burglary. He denied both claims.
It was also alleged Mr Martin had used an unlicensed shotgun and that his certificate was revoked in 1994 after he fired at a vehicle belonging to a trespasser he caught scrumping apples.
He said: “It was bloody awful the way the prosecutors treated me.
“They said I knew what I was doing in shooting them. I didn’t. I was firing a warning. I felt like they lied to the judge and the judge listened.
“I hope that wouldn’t happen to anyone again. I wasn’t overly happy with my own defence team either, who I felt let me down.”
Mr Martin was sentenced to life in prison for murder in April 2000.
His trial sparked a national debate, with some people saying he had the right to defend his property, while others were disgusted at the death of a teenager.
Months later, Mr Martin was granted an appeal, only for judge Lord Woolf to deny his freedom in 2001.
He said: “I thought I had the strongest of cases for appeal. The facts were there to uphold my appeal but he decided against it. I am still to clear my name thanks to him. He consigned me to prison.”
Mr Martin instead had his sentence reduced to five years for manslaughter and was released in 2003.
He says: “Prison was OK. I was essentially left alone, but I knew I shouldn’t have been there.
“It was very upsetting and embarrassing for my dear mother. She was a decent lady and what happened really shocked her.
“In some ways, the hardest thing was coming out and realising all of my friends were no longer there.
“My mother lived for many years after what happened and saw all I went through.”
On his release, Mr Martin lived for a spell in a car at a barn near Bleak House — which has become derelict. The red-brick property is now choked with ivy, doors locked and the windows boarded up.
There is great injustice and I’d want it to be overturned, but it may be for someone else now. I am old
Tony Martin
The only visitors are kids up to no good. Mr Martin still owns the property and the land near it, but bunks down with pals nearby.
He says: “I don’t live anywhere now. I have kind friends that look after me and put me up, but I certainly don’t live at Bleak House.
“After what happened, it was violated. Tainted. Do I miss it? Would I go back to before what happened? Of course. But since what happened, it has taken its toll.”
He went on: “I don’t engage much with the outside world. I listen to the radio and I realise how much the world has changed. I don’t watch TV. I even don’t like what is going on in The Archers.
“It is alien to me. The last book I read was on Oliver Cromwell. I like history books. The past two decades or so have made me look at the world differently.”
Mr Martin reveals he found the pandemic tough, explaining: “I followed the rules and, when it was time to see people, I realised that many had died.”
Now, his decades-long campaign to clear his name is running out of steam.
He admits: “There is great injustice and I’d want it to be overturned, but it may be for someone else now. I am old. I don’t understand the world now.”
And a quarter of a century on, would he still pull the trigger if faced with the same situation?
He says: “It is hard to answer because I would not want to go through what I have again. But I still maintain I did nothing but react like most people would.”
