In a Costa in east London, we finally put some questions to Andrew Milne

Ever since we first published on Andrew Milne, we’ve been building up a list of questions for the solicitor who bought hundreds of Sheffield freeholds, before sending “very aggressive” letters (in the words of Olivia Blake MP). These letters asked homeowners for thousands, if not tens of thousands of pounds, in exchange for their freeholds. In many cases, if people didn’t pay up, Milne threatened to bring a high court claim. “It broke my heart,” one woman who paid Milne £25,000 told us.

We asked Milne many of our questions by e-mail before our first report. While he had plenty to say about leaseholds and the legal action he was going to take against us, he didn’t respond when we asked about the legitimacy of his letters or the impact they were having on recipients. We then followed up with more questions for our next piece, but at this point he stopped responding. Nor would he reply to Private Eye magazine when they approached him for their coverage — other than to issue more legal threats.

That meant our only option was to get some answers from Milne in person. As Tribune members may recall, we travelled the country, visiting properties associated with the solicitor in South Kensington and the Wirral. Our quest ended with my colleague Laurence and I standing outside a derelict pub in the small town of Pensarn in North Wales, being battered by Storm Claudia. A single light was on, and Milne’s car was parked outside — but despite loud knocking and calling up to the window, he didn’t want to come to the door to answer our questions. We’d come within metres of him, but to no avail.

But let no-one say that The Tribune gives up easily. We still had one more idea about where we might find Milne. A place we knew he’d have to be, at a certain time on a certain day, and where he wouldn’t be able to just close the door in our faces: court.

Last year, Milne was charged with stalking, and yesterday there was an all-day procedural hearing for the case at Stratford Magistrates’ court. I caught the train down to London, and waited outside for him to leave the court for lunch. After following him a hundred metres or so down the road, I introduced myself, and at long last put our questions to him.