Black Widow, The: How One Woman Got Justice for Her Murdered Brother
Page 12
My next call was to Chris Cooke and he wore it: I told him if he had aired anything that screwed up the chances of Helen being convicted, he was going to be on my hit list! In an interview after the trial he even had the audacity to try to get me to say that the Sunday investigation had forced the police to reopen the case. I made it clear that this wasn’t correct. In my mind, the only media that can claim that is the well-written words of Giles Brown in The Press.
In the long run, the airing of the Sunday programme hurt my family, with Helen getting name suppression after she was arrested, and there being full evidence suppression until the trial to make sure she received a fair trial, as so much information had been in the public eye.
I regret now being involved with the show, but I couldn’t risk cutting them off in case Greg and his team were either just playing with me or couldn’t get enough evidence after such a delay. I just wanted Helen exposed as a murderer and the initial police investigation exposed as being inadequate as I wasn’t sure if we were going to get justice.
Fourteen
The Arrest
By October, Greg let me know that the police case was at the point where they felt they could make an arrest. I raced out and bought three bottles of bubbly that sat in the fridge in anticipation of the long-awaited phone call. Helen had another court appearance around this time, at the Christchurch temporary District Court at the Aranui Marae on Friday, 21 October. This was on a charge of perverting the course of justice, regarding some trouble she had got up to regarding her son Adam. Back in 2010, Helen had set up Adam as if he’d breached the protection orders she and his ex-partner Kasey had taken out against him. Helen had gone to The Warehouse and purchased herself a cell phone and SIM, then went about texting herself and Kasey abusive and threatening text messages, signing them off with Adam’s name. Because Adam had previously breached this order, he was remanded in custody.
I put two and two together and got 100, assuming that now the police were ready to arrest they would take this opportunity and save driving out to Barry’s home at Motunau Beach — a three-hour round trip. To me it was logical!
I waited home that day for the call and when it hadn’t come by lunchtime I rang Greg. He explained that Earle, who would be the arresting officer, was on a few days’ leave, and upon his return he would work out his interview strategy and the questions he would ask, then they would proceed to bring Helen in for questioning. At the end of questioning they would arrest her and charge her.
I drowned my disappointment with one of the bottles of bubbly waiting patiently in the fridge.
ONE THURSDAY, 27 OCTOBER 2011, a week short of two and a half years since Helen took Phil’s life, CIB officers from the Operation Checketts team turned up at her Motunau Beach address. Earle asked her to come back to the police station for an interview. According to my sources, it went something like this:
She screamed, ‘No! You can just fuck off!’
So Earle said, ‘Right, you’re under arrest.’
She yelled, ‘What for? Murder?’
Earle said, ‘Yes’, and handcuffed her.
Once they were back at the police station, Greg gave me a call. It was around 7.30 a.m. in Australia and he advised me they had picked Helen up and had her in custody. She had refused to answer any questions and they planned to charge her in the next hour with two counts of attempted murder and one count of murder. The police believed she had made two prior attempts to poison Phil with the Phenergan before finally succeeding on the Sunday night — those times he had mysteriously collapsed and ended up in hospital.
I had called in to see a friend at the gym when he called. She knew I’d been waiting for this call, so it was good to be with her when the news came through and have someone there who knew what had happened to be happy with me. I headed home and popped the bottle of Riccadonna Asti from the fridge and raised my glass to cops that do the job they’re paid for. It was amazing they had still managed to get the evidence to charge her after two years and the Christchurch earthquakes, but they were all good cops.
THE POLICE MEDIA RELEASE READ as follows:
27 October 2011
Woman charged with murder over 2009 death
Police have today arrested a 47 year old Christchurch woman and charged her with the murder of Philip James NISBET, who died in Christchurch in May 2009.
The woman will also be facing two charges of attempted murder and will be appearing in the Rangiora District Court this afternoon.
The arrest follows an investigation which was launched in May this year, following a Coroner’s hearing into the death. The death was initially investigated by Police, before being referred to the Coroner.
A coronial inquest was held last November. In May the Coroner found that there was insufficient evidence to reach the threshold required to bring a finding of suicide.
No other comment will be made by Police to the media at this time as the matter is now before the Courts.
AT HELEN’S APPEARANCE AT THE Rangiora District Court a blanket media ban was placed on all evidence, including who was murdered, and Helen was granted name suppression. At that point most media items on the internet containing anything to do with Phil’s death were removed. I felt robbed by this, as for that time, until the first day of the trial, it was as if Phil didn’t exist.
Throughout the new investigation into Phil’s death, Greg and Earle had always said the police would contest bail. But Helen was granted bail and the police never contested it. In my opinion this was insane and very upsetting for the family, especially Ben and Karen, whose street intersected with Helen’s on their way into town, and where Ben caught his school bus from was the only road Helen could travel through on her way in or out of Motunau Beach.
My friend Shelley sat across the road from the courthouse on the phone to me, describing what was going on. When she saw Barry pull up and Helen run to the car and they took off I felt so let down by the system. How could a judge grant bail on a charge of murder?
One of the bail conditions was that Barry had to surrender his guns before Helen could be granted bail to his address. Another fairly standard condition was that the accused could not make contact or have anyone make contact on their behalf with any of the witnesses in the case. Helen also had to check in on certain days with the police.
In Queensland, when someone is charged with murder their first court appearance is in the Magistrates Court — a similar level of jurisdiction as the District Court in New Zealand, where Helen made her first appearance. An appropriate difference between Queensland and New Zealand is that in Queensland the Magistrates Court does not have the jurisdiction to grant bail for a charge or charges that will be heard in the Supreme Court. The Supreme Court in Australia sits above the District Court, whereas in New Zealand it is the High Court. This difference is nothing more than the name; in Queensland the Magistrates Court and District Court cover a similar jurisdiction to the District Court in New Zealand.
But in Queensland, when someone is charged with murder they appear in the Magistrates Court initially and are remanded in custody. The accused can then make a formal bail application to the Supreme Court.
I personally see this as a better option, as this application is then heard by a judge of the Supreme Court. These judges are far more experienced, both as judges and in such crimes, and also have more time to review the application and therefore make a more informed decision. When you think about it, the police can’t charge someone with a crime like murder unless they have the level of evidence required for a conviction. So if there is the level of evidence to prove that someone is guilty of such a crime, why should they have the right to walk the streets and live their life normally, with some minor bail conditions, until they stand trial? Why should victims of crime be put in the position where the accused could cross their path?
HELEN WAS BAILED TO APPEAR at the temporary District Court at Nga Hau E Wha Marae in Christchurch’s east on Wednesday, 16 November. I didn’t have
the cash at the time to book flights so I was very grateful to Karen for paying for them in the meantime. In my rush to book the flights I accidentally booked my flight home for December but Karen picked up on this and we fixed it pretty quickly!
The courts appointed our Family Court victim advisor, and to my shock and horror her name was Helen! I asked if we could be given another person, but due to a high demand on the advisors this was not possible.
Looking back now, I’m glad it wasn’t. There could have been no one better for the job than Helen Knowles. She may not have always been able to answer my questions instantly but hey, I asked more questions than most people! I wanted to be able to fully inform the family and understand the complete process, and Helen always went in search of the information and provided me with a clear understanding of what was going on. Helen is such a beautiful person, so kind and caring, with the perfect interpersonal skills and genuine empathy required for such a position.
I flew in to Christchurch in the early hours of the Tuesday before the hearing, taxied to Shannon’s and caught a few hours’ sleep. Karen came into town and we stayed at a motel for the night. Motels in Christchurch were slim pickings, with tradesmen making the city their temporary home while they did earthquake repairs and families being put up in temporary accommodation while their homes were repaired.
The next morning, we headed to Christchurch South Police Station via the Sydenham Bakery where we picked up a lovely cake to show our gratitude to the Operation Checketts Team. There was a diverse group at the marae in support of justice for Philip: there was Karen; Noeline, my parents’ friend; Adam and his new girlfriend; Helen’s mum Anne and her partner Gavin; and Lance and I. We were met by a court victim advisor, who took us away from the criminals waiting to appear that afternoon.
Helen was first up, so when the time was nearing we were taken into the temporary courtroom. We all sat across the front row of the left-hand side of the court. Helen was as close to the wall as she could get on the right-hand side.
It took some time to get the court session started and Helen tried one of her crying acts to get to leave the room, but court security wouldn’t allow it. She was there alone, with no support from Barry.
The hearing was very quick and hard to hear — not only physically but because it was hard to work out what was going on. Helen was remanded on bail again, to reappear on 7 December. I decided not to come over again for the next appearance; this appearance had been a bit of a waste of time for me as our hopes of constesting bail weren’t possible, but I was just glad to be there. I wanted her to know that I was going to see this through, no matter what. We could see that she was upset by us being in the court — she looked very red-faced and unhappy. It felt good to finally see her facing the consequences of her actions, rather than telling lies and acting like everything was OK.
We were ushered out and waited for Helen to come out too, but she was hiding inside. The media was also there waiting for her to exit. One camera crew managed to catch up with Helen on her exit, and you can watch the clip on the internet of Helen asking her lawyer if it’s OK to run him over!
Fifteen
A Brief Reconciliation
On Saturday, 21 January 2012, I received a Facebook message from my Auntie Lois. It said ‘April 23 is the day. There is to be a trial in Ch-Ch [Christchurch] where an anonymous person is charged with murdering an anonymous person’.
I rang Lois and she helped me find the article online. It was titled ‘Murder trial set for April’ and started ‘The trial of a 48-year-old woman charged with murder has been set for April 23 … She appeared at a pre-trial Christchurch District Court session today.’
I knew Helen had been in court the day before for a pre-trial call-over on the charges of perverting the course of justice relating to her text messages that had put Adam in jail, so I rang the reporter, asking her if she was even in the courtroom for Helen’s appearance. She claimed she was, so I told her that maybe she should have listened to the case before the judge instead of just recognising Helen and assuming it was the murder case. Surely she should have been aware that the setting of a trial date would be done in the High Court, not the District Court.
I was furious, and had to contact family to ensure they hadn’t been misinformed by the article. I also contacted the police, who called the reporter and made her remove the article from the internet. This screw-up caused added stress and cost me in excess of $100 in calls to sort it out.
At the pre-trial argument hearing on the perverting the course of justice charge, Helen’s lawyer further played at stringing things out, requesting the actual CCTV footage of Helen buying the phone, when the court had already been supplied with stills taken from the video. The judge saw this for what it was and gave her lawyer a few days to return to court with Helen’s plea. Helen ended up pleading guilty, after dragging the court process out for nearly two years. She was further remanded on bail until 9 August for sentencing, pending a pre-sentence report.
Helen had a pre-trial hearing on the murder and attempted murder charges set for 26 April. I flew over to attend but on last-minute advice from Greg Murton I didn’t go, as he said it could be seen as harassment and used against me at trial.
BECAUSE I WAS IN NEW Zealand, I chose to take the opportunity to pick up the lounge suite Coumbe, Helen’s lawyer, had notified the Public Trust lawyer was part of Phil’s estate, which needed to be collected from Coumbe’s mother’s home. I’d spoken to my sons’ father, Anthony, who still lived in Christchurch and who had a ute, about helping me pick it up. As this was one of the two couches in the house, there was a 50 per cent chance it was the place Helen had planted her butt while she waited for Phil to die!
I had no intention of keeping the couch and was thinking a ritual burning was called for, but as I had neither the time nor place to do so, Anthony planned to pass it on to someone in need.
The night before we had planned to pick up the couch, I met my sons and a couple of their friends and mine for drinks at a bar near my motel. Anthony called in on his way past and bought me a few drinks. The group whittled down, and when Lance and his mate Callum left it was just me and Anthony. As Lance walked out the door he yelled to the barmaid, ‘Don’t let my father go home with my mother!’ Maybe a better strategy would have been to take his father with him, as by the time the bar staff sent us on our way, Anthony was conveniently over the limit for driving and had to stay with me.
They say everything happens for a reason, and I think that’s true. I had always loved Anthony and always will, and at this point in time at all felt right; Anthony had been a part of my family for years, he knew Phil well and never judged me on my fight for justice. Since Phil’s death and my working out that Helen had murdered him, we had had many conversations about what was going on, and Anthony had always been there for me and supported me. He was a part of a lot of good memories of Phil and my family, and had been my partner at both Andrew’s and Phil’s weddings. Even though our relationship was more off than on over the five years from 1987 to 1992, he was my first true love and the father of my two sons.
That first night we spent together, Anthony swore he was never going to live with another female again and I was very much of the same view when it came to men. But the second night he stayed he asked me if I would shift back over to New Zealand to be with him. I laughed it off, but once I returned to Australia I found I really missed him and we started making plans for me to shift back. I knew I needed to be in New Zealand for the trial, so even if it didn’t work out I was going to be right where I needed to be.
There was a jury trial call-over on 25 May, at which time a proposed trial start date of 11 February 2013 was set. Up till this point it had been up in the air whether the trial would be held in Christchurch or Wellington, as the Christchurch courts were only due to reopen following the earthquakes at the start of 2013.
Anthony had been living up in the Marlborough Sounds. He shifted to a house with a bit of land and when we vi
sited in the July holidays, the girls loved being on a farm — a total contrast from the Gold Coast.
Lance attended Helen’s sentencing on the perverting the course of justice charge on 9 August, where she was sentenced to two years, eight months’ imprisonment. This was the first and only time Barry attended court with her. He was sitting behind Lance and after Helen was taken out Lance could hear him angrily telling her lawyer and pointing at Lance ‘and that’s her [as in my] son’. Lance rang me straight from court with the good news: Helen was now off the streets and wouldn’t get out before the murder trial.
WE SHIFTED BACK TO NEW Zealand at the end of September, after meeting up with Anthony for 10 days in Fiji. Our arrival started on a happy note with Aaron, Rajon, Lacau and I travelling to Queenstown to meet up with my birth brother Grant, who was over from Townsville with his partner for an ice dive and a surprise marriage proposal. It was the best start to our time in New Zealand anyone could hope for. Grant’s mother and sister and her family were all there. The girls had their first real snow experience, learning to snowboard, followed by an awesome day in hot pools in Wanaka. We all enjoyed the get-togethers with Grant and his family.
We returned to Christchurch for a night before heading up to Marlborough to stay with Anthony on the farm. On the way to Marlborough we stopped in at Greta Valley to visit Karen. Unfortunately the visit was marred when one of the detectives gave me a call to do with the case and brought the mood down a bit.
Then it hailed, and Karen and Wayne tried to get us to stay the night but I knew Anthony had a roast cooking for dinner so we headed off. Not far down the road the car slid on the icy, wet road as I took a bend. I tried to correct it but we slid in the opposite direction. I then overcorrected back and we did a 180, ending in a ditch with the car on its side. I’d broken the windscreen with my head and Lacau had broken a side window with her shoulder. For a split second during the accident I feared I’d killed my daughters — it was the worst experience of my life.