Jeremy Dein KC [Amazon Prime]

THE top barrister who helped defend N-Dubz star Tulisa Contostavlos after a tabloid sting has told how he feared she would end up in prison – and struggled to pretend to her otherwise.

In a new Amazon documentary, The Fake Sheik – charting the rise and fall of undercover reporter Mazher Mahmood and how his front page investigations could ruin lives – Jeremy Dein KC said: “It was definitely a case of David versus Goliath – and it seemed, at times, overwhelming.”

The documentary shows the effect of Mr Mahmood’s work on his targets – many of whom say they never got over being caught in one of his traps.

Tulisa was secretly filmed by Mr Mahmood in 2013 after he posed as a Bollywood film producer ready to give her £3.5million for a role in a movie.

At the time, her star was on the rise after hitting Saturday night mainstream as a judge on the X-Factor talent show.

But her career suffered a giant blow when Mr Mahmood reported that she had been able to provide drugs and cast her as a dealer in a story in the Sun on Sunday.

She was prosecuted and Mr Dein KC said: “The whole experience of arriving at court was 10 out of 10 tension, anxiety, stress, trauma. Tulisa was definitely facing a prison sentence between 18 months and three years and as we got into the trial things weren’t looking good. We went into a room at Southwark Crown Court and it was the first time I saw her cracking up.

“She was very, very distressed and saying ‘I’m going to prison’. Here was someone whose whole life was on the brink of collapsing and I remember thinking: ‘Well, actually, I agree with you. I actually think we are going to lose’. I didn’t say that but it was difficult for me to pretend otherwise.”

Tulisa’s name was cleared when it became apparent that Mr Mahmood had asked his driver, Alan Smith, to change his statement.

Mr Smith had said he had actually heard Tulisa talk about being anti-drugs while driving her home from a meeting, but was urged to remove this from his comments.

The criminal trial collapsed and Tulisa walked free when this was revealed to the court.

Mr Dein KC, from the 25 Bedford Row chambers in Holborn, said Mr Mahmood had shown arrogance in court, refusing to give straight answers and commenting on the size of the lawyer’s ears.

Tulisa Contostavlos [See Li]

Mr Mahmood’s other sting targets over the years had included former England manager Sven-Goran Eriksson and the model Jodie Kidd.

The name N-Dubz was taken from the NW postcodes in Camden where Tulisa and her band mates, Fazer and Dappy, all grew up.

She was a pupil of Haverstock School as a teenager and the group featured in the New Journal before their steady rise up the charts.

Mr Dein KC said: “I was actually a fan of N-Dubz. My children were young at the time and we all used to watch X-Factor avidly every Saturday night… It was all a bit intimidating for me. I was very nervous about meeting her actually.”

Mazher Mahmood, the ‘Fake Sheikh’

He is seen in the documentary telling Tulisa that it was clear she was “set up and entrapped” but entrapment could not be used as a defence in her case.

He suggests a judge could stop the proceedings if they felt it was “crime manufactured”.

Mr Dein KC said: “We were arguing that behaviour of Mahmood was unconscionable, that evidence had been gathered in a background of lies and deceit”.

All three episodes of the documentary are available to stream now and have interviews with some of Mr Mahmood’s old colleagues and his former partner.

It shows that the tables were eventually turned and Mr Mahmood, repeatedly named “Journalist of the Year’ at the British Press Awards ended up with a jail sentence, after being charged with perverting the course of justice.

The conviction brought an end to his career as the so-called “King of the Stings” and run of ‘Fake Sheikh’ exclusives during his long time at the News Of The World, the paper shut down by Rupert Murdoch in the wake of phone-hacking revelations.

Mr Mahmood was approached by the documentary’s makers, as was News International, but neither commented.

The stings needed an audience… that’s us

WHENEVER journalists are portrayed in the movies, they are either evil bastards ready to steal flowers and cards from a grave – or heroic schemers skillfully tricking their way into places they shouldn’t be to get the vital information.

The public has always had an uneasy relationship with the industry: reporters are up there on the hate list with estate agents and politicians, but at the same time, everybody appreciates getting their news from somewhere.

In the case of the News of The World and Mazher Mahmood’s relentless thirst for a sting exclusive, millions would head to their local newsagent on a Sunday morning to grab their sizzling copy.

It was the UK’s biggest selling title for many years, and everybody buying it knew exactly what it was all about.

People may well say that they were never readers of the News of the World and maybe some will insist that they boycott everything Rupert Murdoch’s empire has ever published.

But Mahmood’s stories were picked up by all the other news sources too and could often set the agenda for an entire week.

Like his methods or not, the things he did reached our attention, they got talked about, and his “Fake Sheikh” reputation became a shared and known cultural reference point.

At the time in the 2000s, there were more smiles at all of this, than scowls – and it was almost as if everybody was happy playing along with the silhouette byline.

But the Fake Sheikh documentary gives a lost insight into what it feels like on the other end of the boot, as Mahmood’s targets open up on how their lives were changed forever.

Model Jodie Kidd, for example, said she no longer has a relationship with her brother after Mahmood used him to get to her.

The tears flow. People who didn’t really do much wrong – certainly by the standards of some of Fleet Street’s own hedonists at least – or were enticed to do so by some life-changing carrots found themselves roaring on Tulisa as she unwittingly became one target too far for Mahmood.

The makers were unable to get a comment from him, and it’s a good storytelling hook to suggest he’s out there somewhere but nobody knows where. Maybe he’s plotting a comeback like a Batman villain.

After a period of reflection, it’d be interesting to hear his response, though. During his time at the News of The World, he was adamant that all of his victims had brought the crashing exposure on themselves.

But it’s hard not to come away from this three-parter wondering what might have happened if he had used his obvious investigative skills and daring chutzpah for more worthy causes.

What if, instead of desperately trying to trap Tulisa in a drug deal she never wanted to do, he had gone after the world’s real bad ‘uns? The suggestion is he did do some of that too in his career but really what he will be remembered for is habitually wrecking a pop star or model’s career.

With the switch to the internet, media companies can see more clearly than ever that stories with good-looking celebrities smash the web metrics more than a worthy article about a bad polluter or a greedy developer.

To that end, Mahmood must still feel like he had a very big accomplice in his back catalogue.

And that’d be the millions who wanted to read it.

RICHARD OSLEY