Gangster (23 page)

The CAB reaffirmed that she was a chargeable person, claiming that in the period of assessment, she had bank accounts with substantial sums in her own name. This was income in her own hands. The judge reserved judgement. The news came on 23 February that Geraldine had won her case in the High Court, which ruled that she was not liable for the massive tax bill of IR£1.6 million. She could not believe her ears. Mr Justice Morris, in delivering his judgement, said it was clear that significant consequences might flow from his determination of the issues, but it was no part of his function to consider any such consequences.

In the meantime, Gilligan was sent forward for trial in Woolwich on 17 March, St Patrick’s Day. David Cooper, the stipendiary magistrate, outlined the case against the gangster during a 20-minute written submission to the court. Gilligan, he said, did have a case to answer before a jury, but the prosecution had not established a case beyond reasonable doubt.

On 20 February, at 1 p.m., there were crowds everywhere on Upper Street in Islington, allowing Detective Constable Patrick McElhatton to blend in easily. He was undercover, following a target with a covert operations team drawn from the South Regional Crime Squad. The target walked briskly, which caused his followers to do likewise. He headed into the public entrance of Angel Street tube station.

McElhatton watched as his subject and his girl-friend moved towards the south side of the entrance. Then there were three of them—the young couple and a much older male.

‘The younger male was six foot tall, 30 to 35 years old, medium to heavy build, wearing spectacles. He was wearing a light-brown suede jacket,’ McElhatton noted.

Bowden was looking smart for a fugitive on the run. He had just been released from Mountjoy Prison and skipped bail, taking Juliet Bacon with him.

McElhatton didn’t know the identity of the man they were meeting but noticed he had a distinctive misshaped nose and was carrying a newspaper in his right hand. He moved in closer to hear their conversation.

‘Don’t say fuck all about me, I’m telling you, I’ve me alibi sorted.’ The older man spoke loudly. There followed another conversation, which the policeman couldn’t hear. The group walked off.

The third man was Patrick Holland, who had decided to face the music and return home. He called the incident room and said he’d present himself at Lucan Garda Station with his solicitor. On the morning of 9 April, Garda Marion Cusack, a streetwise member of the Drugs Unit at Store Street Station, was monitoring passengers arriving at Dún Laoghaire ferryport. The night before, Holland had telephoned the incident room to say he would be arriving on the ferry.

Cusack saw a red Volkswagen Polo car alighting from the ferry driven by a woman with a male passenger in the front seat and a boy in the back seat. She approached the passenger and asked his name.

Holland revealed his identity. He was immediately arrested under Section 30 of the Offences Against the State Act, on suspicion of having a firearm, and was taken to Lucan where he was interviewed at length. By chance a garda searching through his belongings found what appeared to be a walkman among his possessions. Out of curiosity, he put the headphones on and heard what sounded like his colleagues interviewing Holland. He rushed into the interview room. The suspect was searched. Nothing was found. Later, his shoes were torn apart. Inside the police found two tiny transmitters. He had tried to record the interview.

Bowden was arrested in London and agreed to return home voluntarily. O’Mahony and Hanley flew to London City Airport to collect him on the night of 11 April. He apologised and told the police he’d testify in court.

Chapter 16

Fighting Back

‘I’ll send someone to kill you and everybody around you if he goes Turk.’

BRIAN MEEHAN THREATENING CHARLES BOWDEN’S GIRLFRIEND, JULIET BACON

John Gilligan had been remanded to the maximum-security wing in Belmarsh Prison on the outskirts of London. Belmarsh Prison is built near the site of the wartime arsenal at Woolwich. It was opened in 1991 and is used as a dispersal prison. It accommodates 901 inmates. Houseblock No. 4 is where the maximum-security prisoners are held. Life there is a harsh regime where prisoners like Gilligan are confined for longer periods in their cells.

With no way of escaping and locked up for most of the day, Gilligan resolved to fight the prosecution every step of the way. His strategy took two forms, both aimed at bringing about the same conclusion. His first stratagem was to denounce the prosecution every step of the way. From this starting point, he instructed his lawyers to appeal every decision pertinent to his extradition. The instructions were based on his own interpretations of extradition and constitutional law which he formulated through reading law books, massive manuals on extradition, criminal law and constitutional issues. The second, but far more effective, method of hindering the prosecution case, was the threat of extreme violence against anyone who considered testifying against him. Meehan saw to this.

The first of many hearings got underway on 17 March 1997, the feast of St Patrick, when Gilligan’s lawyers sought a judicial review of his committal. It was supposed to be a routine hearing—and it was, until the prosecution announced that a further 54 Irish witnesses were available to give evidence.

The figure startled Gilligan. Even if most of the new witnesses were gardaí, the news signalled certain trouble.

But he wasn’t just fighting the British authorities. Back in Dublin he was mounting a legal challenge against the constitutionality of the Proceeds of Crime Act 1996. This complex legal case commenced on 18 March. It ran for three days. The powers invested in the Bureau were described as ‘the creation of a police state’. The CAB defence, however, was simple: the State had a right to confiscate the proceeds of crime. Judgement was reserved.

Gilligan, who with inspirational zeal was fast learning the mechanisms of criminal and constitutional law, was briefed on the developments. He believed there was real hope. After all, Geraldine had won her case against the Bureau notwithstanding the odds.

But what Gilligan could not see was how Geraldine’s life had changed irrevocably since Guerin’s murder. The woman he gave everything to was no longer the lady of the country manor. What few friends she ever had no longer took her calls or enquired about her wellbeing. There were no more extravagant parties at Jessbrook. But Geraldine was a survivor. She took everything in her stride: Nothing fazed her. Least of all the garda raids, court actions or pressure from the media.

Her daughter was the same. Darren, however, was different. He did not possess the same inner strength as his mother or sister. The pressure of the Garda investigation into his father’s criminal empire secretly impacted on him. He turned to heroin to escape. He became an addict. None of the family realised this until he was charged at a special late sitting of Dublin District Court on 2 April with a number of crimes, including burglary. He had committed the crimes while high.

Prison was supposed to neutralise Gilligan, but it did no such thing. The gardaí hoped Gilligan’s arrest would strike fear into the gang, forcing them to go their separate ways. It was an idle hope, wishful thinking on the police’s part. The gangster’s arrest had the opposite effect. Meehan and Holland, more than the others, allegedly resolved to dispatch those planning to testify against them. Holland, intelligence reports alleged, sincerely regretted not killing Bowden when he had the chance in London. It was now too late. Bowden was in Arbour Hill Prison, under 24-hour armed guard for his own protection. Warren was just as safe. Gilligan had no idea he was helping the police. Warren met his handlers at clandestine locations. It was a dangerous game but one he played carefully. Dunne was also protected. His home in Cork lay surrounded by an impenetrable cordon of armed police. The threat against them was still very real.

Thomas Coyle, Gilligan’s loyal friend, was desperately trying to find an assassin inside Arbour Hill willing to kill Bowden. He suggested mixing crushed glass or poisons in his meals. His preferred method of assassination, though, was a knife in the back while he showered. The reward he offered was IR£2 million. Coyle approached former IRA men but to no avail. In one confidential memorandum, which Todd O’Loughlin, a senior officer on the case, wrote to Hickey, he outlined his fears for the safety of all concerned. It was headed ‘Security of Witnesses in the Veronica Guerin murder investigation’.

It is the consensus of opinion at the incident room at Lucan that the security of witnesses discussed hereafter should be given urgent consideration. Reports from a number of confidential sources indicate that the principals in this murder who are still at large, namely Brian Meehan, Peter Mitchell and Patrick Eugene Holland have come to the conclusion that the only way to stop the witnesses testifying against them, and to re-establish their control over these people, is to kill one or more of the witnesses. Their primary target at the moment is Charlie Bowden: statements attached.

The gang are particularly annoyed at Charlie Bowden and profoundly regret not having killed him when he recently absconded to Britain. Attempts are now being made to find somebody who can kill him in prison. He is presently in Arbour Hill Prison as his security could not be assured in Mountjoy Prison. There is also grave concern for the safety of Juliet Bacon, who is Bowden’s common-law wife, and is not in custody at the moment.

In the case of Russell Warren, the threat is not imminent as his evidence has not yet been served and the Gilligan gang is not aware of the extent of it. Immediate consideration would need to be given to the position of Juliet Bacon and [another criminal informant] who seem to be the most vulnerable at the moment.

Hickey needed no convincing. If any of the witnesses came to harm, it would be a disaster. Not only would the others be too afraid to testify, there would be a knock-on effect. With the absence of any formal protection operation for State witnesses, the realisation that Gilligan’s gang was perhaps even more dangerous than ever entered his thoughts. There was no other solution—the situation required the creation of a witness protection programme. The assistant commissioner sent a letter, with the word ‘confidential’ stamped on top, to C Branch, the force’s intelligence section, on 4 April 1997.

‘It is significant that intelligence indicates that the main players think that the absence of a witness protection programme in this country is to their advantage. There is no doubt but that they will resort to murder to prevent witnesses giving damaging evidence in court. I agree with inspector T. O’Loughlin’s assessment that Juliet Bacon and [another criminal informant] are most vulnerable at the moment and should be provided with protection in the short term. I think that we should review the situation following consultation with the DPP and if necessary set up a witness protection programme, as all the vital witnesses will be under severe threat if statements are served, and under prolonged threat if, and when, they give evidence.’

His analysis was correct. As he was writing, the gang was quickly coming to the conclusion that Bowden was now a sworn enemy. Their worst suspicions were partly confirmed when they dis-covered that Bowden was no longer being held in Mountjoy Prison but had been transferred to Arbour Hill. This suggested that Bowden was either in solitary confinement or, more likely, had turned supergrass.

Gilligan was losing his patience. He couldn’t distinguish the lies from the truth in the coded messages relayed to him over the phone. Meehan and the others were equally confused. All they could do was wait for Bowden to make contact.

At 4 p.m. on 11 April 1997, Juliet Bacon walked into the Hole in the Wall pub on Blackhorse Avenue in Dublin. She was accompanied by five armed gardaí. One attached a recording device to the public phone in the pub. She made a few calls. The first was to a wrong number. The second reached a business contact of Gilligan’s. She asked this man to call Meehan and tell him to get in touch. She hung up. Five minutes later, the phone rang. She got straight to the point.

‘Charlie is going fucking mad, he wants to know what the fucking story is.’

She enquired about Holland’s arrest at Dún Laoghaire. Meehan told her it was of no concern to Bowden. Trying to compromise him further, she continued: ‘He said they nicked him . . . He got told that someone ratted that he was coming on the boat or else they said they had surveillance on the boats.’

‘He has nothing to do with what Charlie got done for.’

‘I know, he’s just wondering, just worried what the story is, that’s all,’ she said.

‘But it’s got nothing to do with the murder and it’s nothing. He’s clear on the murder, he is, because they didn’t do him with it, cause they’ve no evidence, right.’

Bacon enquired further, asking Meehan out straight about Holland’s court appearance on drugs charges. She referred to this as ‘the drugs thing’.

Meehan didn’t need anyone to tell him that she was up to no good. Now he got straight to the point.

‘Now listen to me and I’ll tell you, cause I want to get things straight, cause things are looking very fucking fishy to me, right, and I’ll tell you what. I’m after being good to everybody but I’m taking off my gloves now. If Charlie’s going belly up, if Charlie is going gammy, he better fucking think very strongly about what will happen.’

‘Are you threatening me, Brian?’

‘Threatening, Julie? You’ll have no idea what I’m going to fucking do if he goes Turk. Now, I’m telling you, I’m his friend still, I’m helping you every way I can, but I’m fucking starting to worry and worry and worry, ’cause I’ll tell you who goes to Arbour Hill—fucking rapists and rats. I’ve done everything I fucking can to help him, everything. He has no worries against why Holland is home, unless he made a statement against him. Do you understand?’

‘Charlie is going ballistic.’

She need not have bothered acting. Meehan knew she was lying. He exploded with rage.

‘I’ll send someone to fucking kill you this fucking day, do you understand what I’m saying?’

‘What did you say?’

‘You are fucking hearing me. I’ll send someone to kill you and everybody around you if he goes Turk. Now tell him I said that, right, and tell him I said I’m fucking considering doing him anyway, so he better not fucking think of going rat, right. That’s the message now, right,’ he roared.

‘You’re a fucking knacker, that’s all, you’re a knacker.’

‘Charlie is a rat and if he rats on me, I’ll fucking kill you,’ he shouted.

‘I don’t fucking blame him if he does, you prick, you.’

‘Yeah, you fucking scumbag.’

She screamed back: ‘You’re a scumbag. Fuck off.’

The next day, Bowden’s semi-detached home in the Paddocks in Castleknock was petrol-bombed. There was no one at home. Bacon was in protective custody. The intimidation didn’t stop there. Brendan ‘Speedy’ Fegan, the gang’s representative in Northern Ireland, arrived in Dublin driving a red convertible BMW. He went searching for Bowden’s children. If burning Bowden’s home down didn’t work, kidnapping and torturing his children might. Fegan aborted the plan on finding Bowden’s family under armed guard. He was later arrested and told the police he never intended harming the children. He said he just wanted to take pictures of them. These would be sent to Bowden to force him to withdraw his statements.

The endless court appearances involving Gilligan continued. The Crown Prosecution Service sought permission for up to 50 witnesses to give evidence from Dublin, possibly before an Irish court. Per-mission was granted, prompting the gangster to seek a judicial review against this decision. Gilligan told his counsel there was no need for these security measures. He said he had no desire to prevent any witness from giving evidence. But there was a surprise in store. When his judicial review case was heard on 21 May 1997, Nigel Peters, the prosecuting barrister, said that, on the basis of statements made by one Charles Bowden, he wished to reintroduce two charges that had been struck out.

Hickey’s team took their time in preparing the murder case against Gilligan, until it became clear that Bowden would be required to travel to London to give evidence. The consensus was that Bowden would not stand up to a rigorous cross-examination before a London court, mainly because it was obvious that he was centrally involved in the assassination. Bowden could not account for his whereabouts on the day of the murder. His claim that when he loaded the Magnum he sincerely believed that Guerin would only be intimidated was so outlandish that no one would have faith in his words.

Left with no other alternative, the gardaí moved to extradite Gilligan. There was a flurry of meetings with barristers, the murder investigation team and officials from the Department of Justice. Hickey argued that Bowden would not testify unless given immunity. This was granted on 4 July 1997. Barry Donoghue, a legal assistant in the DPP’s office, wrote to Hickey confirming the news.

‘I refer to recent consultations regarding the ongoing investigation into the murder of Veronica Guerin. The Director has taken the following decision. It is unconditional and irrevocable. He will not prosecute Charles Bowden for the murder of Veronica Guerin on the basis of (a) any statement, made orally or in writing by Charles Bowden up to today’s date; (b) any further statement made orally or in writing which Charles Bowden may in the future make to a member of the Garda Síochána in the course of their investigation into the possible involvement of other persons in that murder; (c) any evidence which Charles Bowden may give in criminal proceedings against any other person.’

Warren’s solicitor received similar notification on 17 August 1997. By this time, he was living under the protection of the gardaí.

With the informants in place, Hickey flew to London and lodged 18 warrants with Scotland Yard seeking Gilligan’s extradition. The gangster only learned of this on the day his trial on drugs trafficking was due to begin, 8 September. The warrants Hickey lodged included the charge of murdering Veronica Guerin, drug trafficking and gun running. British Customs set aside their charges allowing the murder extradition proceedings to take priority.