A warning to our viewers. What you are about to watch is a true story. The following program contains content that some viewers may find disturbing. Viewer discretion is strongly advised. June 19th, 2003. Rural Cheshure, England. Rolling green farmland stretches across the countryside.
The picture of British tranquility. But at Burnt House Farm near Nutsford, something unspeakable is unfolding. At 4:06 p.m., a 999 call comes through from a roadside pay phone. The caller’s voice is shaken. It looked like three men beating somebody up in the courtyard that didn’t look right at all. Police raced to the scene. What they find inside a disused cow shed will haunt them forever.
A 44year-old father suspended upside down from wooden rafters. His adult son and daughter bound with rope, forced to watch every moment. 4 hours of systematic torture. Industrial staple guns fired into flesh. Metal bars crashing down on bone. Burning plastic melting onto skin. 123 injuries documented. 24 broken ribs. A collapsed lung.
A man begging for his life while his daughter screams that he can’t breathe. The attackers. A drug kingpin seeking revenge. A BBC undercover researcher turned killer. A conspiracy born from a 20,000 debt. And one man who would flee the country to live in luxury for 16 years as one of Europe’s most wanted. This is the story of Brian Waters and the 4-hour nightmare at Burnt House Farm.
But before we continue, a necessary warning. What you’re about to hear is the true account of a horrific crime. The details are deeply disturbing. Viewer discretion is once again strongly advised. Welcome to the Shadow Files crime series. Tonight, we venture into a nightmare so evil it defies comprehension. Take a moment to hit subscribe, drop a like, and please let us know where you’re watching from.
And now we begin to understand how Brian Waters ended up fighting for his life in that cow shed. We need to know who he was because he was so much more than what happened to him on that terrible day. Brian Waters was born in 1959 and raised in workingclass Cheshure. From a young age, he had that entrepreneurial spark, always looking for opportunities, always thinking about the next venture.
He wasn’t content to just clock in and clock out. He wanted to build something, provide for a family, make his mark. In his 20s, Brian met Julie and together they settled in Nantwitch, building a life that would soon include two children. In 1978, their son Gavin was born, followed four years later by their daughter Natalie in 1982.
And from the moment those kids came into the world, Brian Waters was allin. He wasn’t the absent father. He wasn’t the guy who put work above everything else. He was hands-on, present, devoted. Friends and family described Brian as generous to a fault, quick to laugh, quick to help anyone who needed it. If you were in Brian’s circle, he had your back.
He taught his kids about resilience, about standing on your own two feet, about loyalty. He was protective, sure, but he also gave Gavin and Natalie the space to grow into their own people. The Waters family was tight-knit, insular, even bound together by deep trust. By June 2003, Gavin was 25 years old, and Natalie had just celebrated her 21st birthday on June 18th, one day before everything changed forever.
They were young adults now, but they still orbited closely around their father. But there was another side to Brian Waters, a side that most people didn’t see. Outwardly, he appeared to be a small business owner, just a regular guy trying to get by in Cheshure, but the reality was far more complex. Brian Waters was a cannabis cultivation entrepreneur.
And this wasn’t small-time street dealing. This was a sophisticated international operation. Starting in June 2002, Brian partnered with a friend named Mujahed Majid, known to everyone as Johnny, to run a cannabis farm at Burnt House Farm in Tabi, just off junction 19 of the M6 motorway. The farm was isolated, tucked away in the countryside, perfect for what they had in mind.
Rows of cannabis plants grew in converted barns, carefully tended, irrigated, harvested. It was a professional setup. But Brian didn’t stop there. He also operated a cannabis farm across the border in Holland, traveling back and forth regularly to broker deals, move product, and coordinate with other players in the trade.
He had connections. He had ambition. And he had clients, including a dangerous drug dealer from Gossip named John Wilson. And that’s where everything started to unravel. During one of his trips back from Holland, Brian was stopped. £20,000 worth of cannabis was confiscated. It wasn’t his money. It belonged to John Wilson.
And Wilson expected to be paid back. Every penny. Brian didn’t run from the debt. He worked to pay it off, chipping away at what he owed. But John Wilson wasn’t a patient man. He wasn’t forgiving. And as the weeks turned into months, that 20,000 debt became an obsession for him. It wasn’t just about the money anymore.
It was about respect. It was about control. It was about making an example. Brian Waters had no idea that Wilson wasn’t just planning to collect a debt. He was planning something far, far worse. Brian never imagined that his business dealings would lead to the most brutal day of his family’s life. But John Wilson had other plans.
John Wilson was 54 years old in 2003. A seasoned drug dealer from Glossup and Darbisher with decades in the criminal underworld. Cold and calculating, Wilson saw Brian’s debt as more than money owed. It was disrespect. And in his world, disrespect demanded punishment. He didn’t want repayment. He wanted to send a message that would echo through every criminal network he touched.
So he assembled a crew for something far darker than collection. Enter Christopher Guestmore Jr. 25 years old from Limb in Cheshure. Moore had built an unusual career as an undercover researcher for British television. He’d worked on high-profile BBC programs like McIntyre Uncovered and Crooked Britain, plus Channel 4’s Sleepers, infiltrating car thieves, counterfeits, and drug dealers, secretly filming them for exposees broadcast to millions.
Moore earned up to £500 a day. Producers valued his edge, his willingness to blur lines others wouldn’t cross. Moore would later claim he befriended Wilson to sell a story about him being a police informant, that he wanted to film the cannabis operation for a dispatch’s documentary. Just another undercover assignment.
But Christopher guested Moore didn’t just observe, he participated. The fatal connection came when Moore followed Gavin Waters and pinpointed Burnt House Farm’s exact location. He handed Wilson everything needed on a silver platter. Then there was James Raven, Moore’s cousin 44, from Bolton. Raven had done similar undercover work for BBC and Channel 4.
But he was different. Heavily tattooed with words like maniac and psychopath inked across his body. Raven had a violence conviction. Producers knew his past, but believed he’d reformed. They were catastrophically wrong. The final member was Otis Matthews, a younger gang member from Stretford, eager to prove himself, ready for whatever Wilson demanded.
Years later, he’d face conviction at a fourth trial after the others were already imprisoned. Wilson’s plan was simple and sinister. Go to Burnt House Farm, steal thousands of pounds worth of cannabis equipment, and torture Brian Waters. make him suffer for the debt, for the perceived disrespect for everything. They knew the family might be there.
Gavin, Natalie, possibly Julie. They simply didn’t care. On June 19th, 2003, this conspiracy became a nightmare that would scar a family forever. As we go into the most chilling details of this documentary, take a brief moment to like and subscribe to our channel if you haven’t already for more indepth investigations and analysis of significant cases like this.
Early afternoon, June 19th, 2003, the gang arrives at Burnt House Farm in Tabi, just off junction 19 of the M6 motorway. The isolated location means no neighbors close enough to hear screams, no witnesses to see what’s about to unfold. Sullean Razak is already there when they storm in.
He helped tend the cannabis operation with the Waters family. The moment they see him, he becomes the first victim. They overpower and bind him immediately. What happens next will haunt him forever. Razak is suspended from the wooden rafters, his body dangling. helplessly. They lower him into a barrel filled with filthy liquid, holding him under until he’s choking and gasping.
Then they pour plant food over his body, chemicals burning his skin like acid. A pillowcase is placed over his head and set on fire, flames licking at his face before they extinguish it. An industrial staple gun is brought out and staples are fired repeatedly into his feet, legs, and torso. Each metallic click followed by searing pain as metal pierces flesh.
4 hours. Somehow against all odds, Sullean Razak survives. Then Brian Waters arrives. He has no idea what’s waiting inside. The moment he steps through the door, he’s grabbed, overpowered, dragged into the disused cow shed. They tie him to a chair. The real torture begins. Brian is beaten with garden canes, thin wood whipping across his body again and again.
Then they suspend him upside down from the rafters by his ankles. Hanging there completely helpless. He’s struck repeatedly with canes and then a heavy metal bar. The blows rain down on his ribs, back and head. The staple gun comes out again. Industrial staples fired into his arms, legs, torso. He’s whipped, burned.
Then in an act of unimaginable cruelty, sexually assaulted with the iron bar. They lower him back down, tie him to the chair again. A bin bag is placed over his head and set a light. The plastic melts, dripping onto his skull, fusing with skin and hair. Brian is screaming, begging them to stop. The autopsy would later document 123 separate injuries, 24 broken ribs, a collapsed lung, burns covering his back.
Through it all, Brian Waters remained conscious, pleading for his life. Then Gavin and Natalie arrive. His 25-year-old son and 21-year-old daughter pull up to the farm, completely unaware. The gang seizes them immediately, ties them up. A rope is placed around Gavin’s neck and pulled taut, choking him while he’s beaten.
A gun is shoved into Natalie’s mouth as a threat. Comply or die. Then they’re forced to watch what’s being done to their father. The gang keeps demanding CS. Where’s the money? But there is no money hidden at the farm. Nothing to give them. Natalie can hear her father’s breathing becoming labored.
Desperate, she hears him say he can’t breathe. Panic sets in. She begs the attackers to take him to a hospital, tells them about his lung condition. They ignore her completely. While this horror unfolds, two gang members drive to the Waters family home in Nwitch. Julie is there alone. They storm through the door, tearing the house apart, searching for money.
Finding nothing, they grab Julie, force her into a car at gunpoint, and drive her back to Burnt House Farm. Julie arrives to find her husband dying and her children bound and traumatized. Brian Waters can no longer breathe. His collapsed lung, broken ribs, the trauma to his body, it’s too much. The gang finally cuts him loose.
He’s carried out of the shed, his body limp, his life slipping away. Within moments, Brian Waters is dead, killed by a combination of blunt force trauma, asphyxiation, and shock. At 4:06 p.m., a 999 call comes through from a pay phone near the farm. The caller is David Moran, John Wilson’s driver, his voice shaken.
I’ve just come off the M6. It looked like there were three men beating somebody up in the courtyard. It didn’t look right at all. Police are dispatched immediately. Sirens whail as patrol cars race toward the farm. The gang hears them coming. They flee through neighboring fields, scattering in different directions. But in their panic, they make a critical mistake.
Leaving behind cigarette butts, drink bottles, gloves, even a bag containing feces. Items that will seal their fate. The killers thought they’d gotten away clean. They were wrong. When police arrive at Burnt House Farm, they find a scene of unimaginable horror. Brian Waters’s body lies in the milking parlor, lifeless, Julie and the children are traumatized, barely able to speak.
Sullean Razak clings to life, his body covered in burns, staple wounds, and bruises inside the cowshed. Blood is everywhere. Garden canes, metal bars, staple guns, barrels, the implements of torture scattered across the floor like props from a nightmare. But the gang made critical mistakes. Left behind is a carrier bag containing cigarette butts, drinks bottles, including a Sprite bottle, and even a bag of feces.
To forensic investigators, it’s a gold mine. DNA analysis begins immediately. Christopher Guest Moore’s name enters the investigation when his DNA is found on a glove at the farm entrance, on the Sprite bottle, and on multiple cigarette butts. The forensic links are undeniable. Moore had been there. He’d participated.
And he’d left traces of himself all over the scene. Within days, John Wilson and James Raven are arrested. The evidence is overwhelming. Witness testimony from the Waters family and Sullean Razak forensics phone records. In August 2004, both stand trial at Chester Crown Court. The jury finds them guilty of murder and conspiracy to cause grievous bodily harm.
The judge, passing sentence, says, “These crimes were exceptionally sadistic. The violence used was both gratuitous and extreme.” Wilson and Raven received life imprisonment with a minimum term of 24 years each. But Christopher Guestmore is nowhere to be found. On June 21st, 2003, just two days after the murder, CCTV cameras capture Moore.
Walking through Liverpool John Lennon Airport, he books a flight to Malaga, Spain, and vanishes. From Spain, he travels to South Africa, then Mosamb beek, then Turkey, constantly moving, staying one step ahead. Eventually, he settles in Malta, adopting the identity Andrew Christopher Lamb. There he builds a life of luxury. a grand villa overlooking the Mediterranean, a Porsche in the driveway, work as a yacht captain with a reputation as a successful British businessman, he cultivates connections with Moroccan royalty and the Egyptian military,
living openly under his assumed name, believing he’s untouchable. Meanwhile, back in the UK, the investigation continues. In 2007, Otis Matthews is convicted of murder at a fourth trial and sentenced to a minimum of 22 years. Three of the four killers are now behind bars. But more remains free. Years pass. Detective Inspector Kate Tomlinson and her team refuse to give up.
Our determination to find Christopher Guestmore Jr. has not faltered. She says in 2019 more is added to Europe’s most wanted list. International law enforcement agencies coordinate efforts sharing intelligence across borders. Tips come in. Leads are followed. Finally, there’s a breakthrough. Moore is traced to Malta.
In 2019, 16 years after he fled, Christopher Guest Moore is arrested at his villa and extradited back to the United Kingdom. During questioning, Moore sticks to his story. He claims he only went to Burnt House Farm that morning to steal cannabis equipment. Left after an argument with James Raven when he realized Wilson had discovered he was working undercover, and insists he didn’t know about the torture.
But the forensic evidence tells a different story. His DNA was everywhere. He was there. He participated. After 16 years, Christopher Guest Moore would finally face justice. In March 2021, nearly 18 years after Brian Waters murder, Christopher Guest Moore finally stands trial at Chester Crown Court. The evidence is presented.
Witnesses testify. The forensic links are laid out for the jury, but after days of deliberation, they cannot reach a verdict and are discharged. A retrial is ordered. In November 2021, the process begins again. Moore maintains his innocence throughout, insisting he fled in 2003 simply because he panicked. On December 9th, 2021, after 12 hours and 14 minutes of deliberation, the jury returns.
Guilty of murder. A majority verdict of 10 to2. Guilty of conspiracy to cause grievous bodily harm to Sullean Razak. Christopher Guestmore shakes his head as the verdicts are read. He shows no remorse. Judge Sir Peter Openshaw schedules sentencing for the following day. On December 10th, 2021, Moore receives life imprisonment.
He joins John Wilson, James Raven, and Otis Matthews behind bars. All four killers finally held accountable. But for the Waters family, justice doesn’t erase the pain. In a statement released after the verdict, they said, “What happened at Burnt House Farm on June 19th, 2003 has had a significant and longlasting effect on our family.
We will never be able to forget events of that day. And even now, more than 18 years down the line, we feel the pain on a daily basis with constant flashbacks. We have remained a close-knit family and have provided much needed support to each other. But this has been an isolating experience. We have lived in fear of reprisals and struggled to trust others as we normally would.
But we never gave up hope. And the verdict today marks the end of an incredibly painful journey in our lives. Detective Inspector Kate Tomlinson spoke about their ongoing trauma. They have remained very insular and haven’t been able to move on with their lives. They have remained very scared to this day. Gavin and Natalie Waters still live at home. The flashbacks are constant.
They’ve struggled to develop long-term relationships, unable to move past what they witnessed. The image of their father suspended from the rafters. The sound of his voice begging for help. The feeling of helplessness as they were forced to watch it never leaves them. Julie carries the horror with her every moment.
The memory of being dragged to that farm, seeing her husband dying, knowing her children had witnessed it all. And Sullean Razak, who survived physically, carries psychological scars that will never fully heal. Brian Waters was 44 years old when he died. a father, a husband, a man who made mistakes but didn’t deserve what happened in that cow shed.
His story matters, his family’s pain matters, and we remember him today. If you like this coverage, join our community by subscribing and turning on notifications. Every subscriber makes it possible for us to keep creating content we’re passionate about sharing with you.
