How police made Scottish legal history in Highland torture chamber case

Al Capone, the violent Chicago gang boss, was brought to book for tax evasion in 1931, but similar tactics has not been tried in Scotland, until recently.

This is the topic of my latest Scotsman column, published in today's paper (1st April 2025).

A recent case heard in Caithness Sheriff Court read like a script from a far-fetched, 1960s horror movie. A remote Highland lodge complete with a subterranean torture chamber, where the sadistic landowner lured vulnerable young women to torture and sexually abuse. You wouldn’t have been surprised if a couple of vampires and a mummy appeared in the story.

Yet it was all true and resulted in a novel legal outcome. Kevin Booth, now 64, has been on the radar of various British police forces for over 30 years. Whether it was the harsh beatings he meted out to children attending a dodgy private school he ran in the 1990s or the sexual assault on his Brazilian au pair in the early 2000s, his sadistic and sexually violent behaviour was evident.

About 20 years ago, Booth purchased an isolated shooting lodge in Caithness. Lochdhu Lodge near Altnabreac is a remote, former hotel with extensive cellars – the perfect place to conduct his nefarious activities, far away from prying eyes.

And at first the scheme worked. Young female housekeepers were lured to work at the remote lodge with the promise of high wages, perks such as the use of a private gym, and even a private loch for swimming.

Of course, it was a cruel ruse and word soon got out about sadistic punishment beatings and sexual assault, mostly carried out in his purpose-built torture chamber, which contained life-size ancient Egyptian figures and an empty coffin.

A police investigation was launched but soon hit problems. Many of the victims were young women who had been recruited from abroad. They had fled the UK as soon as they could escape, while others were too terrified to give evidence.

Corroboration is the corner stone of our criminal justice system and, in the investigation into the goings on at Lochdhu, it was lacking. It appeared the investigation was stymied, and that Booth’s choice of the remote lodge had been astute.

But Police Scotland and the Procurator Fiscal Service were not about to give up. A famous New York homicide detective once said that “sometimes the difference between success and failure is a new idea”. In the Lochdhu case, the enterprising lead investigator, Detective Sergeant Chris Hughes, had just such a novel idea.

Civil law in criminal cases has often been used in other jurisdictions. It goes back to the 1920s when the newly formed FBI deployed various legal tactics to trap murderous gang bosses for racketeering. Famously, Al Capone, the violent Chicago gang boss, was eventually brought to book for tax evasion.

But it had never been tried here, at least not until last February when Sheriff Neil Wilson issued an order under a rare, civil, anti-trafficking provision. The order states that Booth is banned from travelling abroad for five years and also from employing any woman without the explicit permission of law enforcement officials.

He may not be in prison but Booth’s activities have been well and truly locked down. This is a legal first for Scotland and Sergeant Hughes, Police Scotland, and the Procurator Fiscal Service are to be congratulated.

Scots law has always proved adaptable in the face of new challenges. This is yet another example.