Gangster (24 page)

The day was one of extraordinary complexities. For a brief moment, Gilligan was released from custody outside Belmarsh Court. Seconds later, he was rearrested by the Metropolitan Police. Under heavy armed guard, he was transported to Plumstead Police Station where he was formally served with his extradition warrants. Once he accepted the papers, he was returned to Belmarsh Magistrates’ Court.

The extradition hearing began at 3.15 p.m. Clare Montgomery QC immediately issued a warning to the court that she would be seeking an adjournment for an abuse of process. She pointed to a bundle of legal papers, which she said she had just been served. ‘This,’ she said without hesitation was ‘not acceptable’. She then made a prophetic announcement. She said Gilligan would pursue every line of appeal to the High Court or the House of Lords.

The media were everywhere. Reporters scribbled contemporaneous notes of the proceedings, what Gilligan looked like and his facial expressions. For the extradition to be valid, the court required a garda to formally identify Gilligan. Detective Inspector Jerry O’Connell was nominated. He took the stand and pointed at Gilligan. ‘That’s John Joseph Gilligan,’ he said. The judge was satisfied. Gilligan was remanded yet again.

On 8 October 1997, Bowden was sentenced to six years in prison by Judge Cyril Kelly in the Dublin Circuit Criminal Court. He sat in the dock next to two armed detectives who watched attentively, almost waiting for someone to produce a gun. The gardaí were taking no risks. Bowden wore a bullet-proof vest under his shirt, which exaggerated his stature. He expressed no emotion as the sentence was delivered. He looked as if he couldn’t care less.

Judge Kelly said Bowden would never be able to live a normal life again and may have to disappear. His judgement, he said, was centred on the many factors he had to take into consideration. These included Bowden’s guilty plea, the likelihood of him re-offending and the savings to the State by avoiding a lengthy trial. He imposed seven sentences of six years each, and two sentences of three years, all to run concurrently from 11 March, the date when Bowden first went into custody. Bowden left the court a happy man.

Four days later, Meehan and Traynor were arrested in Amsterdam by an elite unit of the Dutch police. There was a young girl in their company. When Meehan saw the commandos approach, he panicked, losing control of his bowels and defecating in his trousers. Traynor was decidedly more relaxed. He raised his hands in the air, in a gesture that suggested he was waiting for the police to pounce. All three were taken in for questioning. Hours later, Traynor was released without charge along with the girl. The gardaí did not seek his extradition. The official story leaked to the media was that they had not expected to find him in Amsterdam. Few familiar with the case believed it.

Gilligan received the news in prison. He was devastated. Meehan was his surrogate son, the one man he could trust above anyone else. Without Meehan, his hands were tied. The legal challenges took on a new importance and sense of urgency.

The British courts heard his extradition case on 22 October. It did not go very far because legal arguments broke out, forcing the judge to adjourn the case, but only after he had cited Gilligan for con-tempt. Gilligan had refused to recognise the court. Instead he sat down, crossed his legs and read a book. ‘I’m not sure if he recognises this court,’ said the prosecuting counsel, prompting the magistrate to proclaim that he considered the accused’s actions to be a contempt of court.

‘I’ll deal with you at the end of these proceedings,’ he said.

The same court ruled he should be extradited on 28 October 1997. He appealed the decision at once. The nightmare of extradition was slowly unfolding. With the passing of each week, he received more bad news. On 10 November 1997, Warren had pleaded guilty to money laundering charges in the Dublin Circuit Criminal Court. Like Bowden, he was treated leniently. He was given a five-year sentence. The news was relayed to Gilligan who interpreted the sentence as a clear signal that Warren intended giving evidence against him. The story Warren gave, though, was unbelievable because he was living in a state of self-denial. Everything he said distanced himself from the murder. He told the gardaí that he never knew Guerin was going to be shot, that he had vomited after watching her death. His whole story was full of inconsistencies. He said he’d driven to Naas on the fatal morning in his van, which because of its small engine size could not keep up with Guerin’s car. But none of the witnesses saw such a vehicle. Warren’s statements were littered with so many inconsistencies that no matter which way anyone viewed them, they couldn’t be explained. He was trying to distance himself from the murder.

Just when Gilligan believed things couldn’t get any worse, more critical news arrived. On 28 November 1997, Holland was convicted in the Special Criminal Court for drug trafficking. He was sentenced to 20 years on the strength of Bowden’s evidence. The trial itself was overshadowed by a short piece of testimony given by Marion Cusack, the officer who had arrested him at Dún Laoghaire ferry terminal. When asked by counsel why she arrested the accused, she said it was because she believed he was the man who had shot Veronica Guerin on the Naas Road. That the court accepted Bowden’s evidence was a solemn signal for Gilligan.

Bowden had never wanted to testify in court but had cut a deal. His co-operation with the inquiry was not based on any feelings of remorse but on the idea that he would somehow avoid serving any significant period in jail. This was clear to anyone who knew him or heard his evidence. In truth and behind the scenes, the gardaí were fighting a battle trying to keep Bowden contented. From the outset he complained about prison. He despised jail. With no cocaine, money, women or debauchery to entertain him, he was overcome by resentment. Like Gilligan, he set out to secure his freedom, or at worst more privileges. He wrote vexatious complaints to the Department of Justice and communicated his grievances to the gardaí. Much of this was relayed to O’Loughlin. The informer was convincing in his sincerity. The detective inspector wrote to Garda headquarters four days after Holland’s conviction, highlighting his concerns about Bowden’s wellbeing and the workings of the witness security programme.

‘Witness protection in this country is a completely new phenomenon as indeed is large-scale organised crime. As it is likely to be with us in the future, standards of treatment of such witnesses must be agreed,’ he wrote.

He outlined what he perceived to be the situation. ‘In the case of Charles Bowden I wish to say that the evidence which he gave in the trial of Patrick Eugene Holland was invaluable. Holland was given a 20-year sentence on 28 November 1997. Equally his evidence against Brian Meehan and John Gilligan is of vital importance. He is in a unique position in the Irish prison system and cannot be associated with other prisoners with the exception of Russell Warren, who is in a similar position. His unique position in the prison also means that he is in solitary lock-up for longer periods than other prisoners. In effect his co-operation in this ongoing investigation is leaving him in a most awkward position without privileges.’

He continued: ‘Juliet Bacon, his common-law wife, is also seriously confined under Garda protection. She has been completely removed from her former life and is being kept at a secret location, completely removed from all her family and friends.

‘Juliet Bacon visits Charles Bowden at Arbour Hill on a daily basis. Prior to Bowden giving evidence for the State against Patrick Eugene Holland, Bowden had special visiting times to facilitate the special security arrangements in place on himself and Juliet Bacon. Unfortunately the prison authorities have now removed the privilege of special visiting times for Bowden. This is most unfortunate from a security point of view and it is unhelpful in relation to our efforts in securing his continued assistance in the prosecution of the main figures in the Gilligan gang.

‘I ask that the prison authorities be requested to restore these special visiting times as a matter of urgency. Russell Warren and his wife Debbie are in a similar position and have had the special visits privilege withdrawn. It is accepted that Warren has not yet given evidence, but it is his intention to do so in the main trial of John Gilligan. I would ask that the special visiting times be restored to him also. Russell Warren’s wife is expecting a baby in late December and because of the unique position that she and her husband are in they have both requested that Russell Warren be permitted to have temporary release for the birth. This temporary release would be under the supervision of the witness protection gardaí assigned to Debbie Warren.

‘Due to the similar unique position of Charles Bowden and Juliet Bacon, Bowden also requests a two-day temporary release over the Christmas period. Again this will be under the supervision of the witness protection gardaí.

‘Charles Bowden and Russell Warren are both serving relatively short sentences and have been given unconditional and irrevocable immunity in relation to the Veronica Guerin murder. We are depending on the goodwill and sense of moral duty of these two men to give evidence against the leaders of the Gilligan crime organisation. It is imperative that these men receive fair treatment while they are incarcerated, bearing in mind their unique position. It would be most unfortunate if they failed to make good their undertaking to testify because of some perceived harshness in their incarceration.

‘I would ask that the matters I have raised be addressed as a matter of urgency with the Department of Justice so that efforts of the gardaí and the prison service be co-ordinated to achieve the desired result in the matter.’

On Monday, 7 December, Hickey attended a meeting at the Department of Justice. Those present included Patrick Dunne, the Governor of Arbour Hill; Chief Superintendent John McGroarty from Garda headquarters and O’Loughlin. Dunne set out the position in relation to the supergrass prisoners pointing out that there was no special category into which they fitted. Therefore he could not grant them special privileges. It would invariably have a knock-on effect with other inmates. There was nothing he could do.

Four days later, on 11 December, Hickey drafted a seven-page report recommending a series of meas-ures to keep the witnesses content. This memorandum was marked confidential. In the correspondence, he stated that Bowden and Warren were unique in the prison system and that their commitment to giving evidence should not be taken for granted.

‘If Bowden or Warren were to decide not to give evidence against Meehan and Gilligan, these cases would almost certainly collapse. The other members of this gang are fully aware of the danger that testimony from these two men can do to them. We are aware that there is a very serious threat to Warren and Bowden and to their immediate families.’

He recommended the following proposals. These, he wrote, should alleviate the problem:

(1) That Bowden and Warren be permitted additional weekly visits by their families which would help to counter-balance their isolated positions. (2) The concerns and worries which these prisoners have about their families’ isolation under Garda Witness Protection scheme would also be allayed by such extra visits. (3) The fears that the family members have in relation to visiting hours are impacting upon the prisoners. The family members are very apprehensive about meeting up with the families of other criminals who are present in numbers during normal visiting hours. Special visiting times would be necessary to overcome this problem.

Due to the unique position of these prisoners inside the prison and the restricted movements of their families under Garda protection outside, I recommend that urgent consideration be given to their temporary release for a period of Christmas 1997. This temporary release might be conditional to them spending that period at the location where their families are under Garda protection.

[ . . . ] I believe however that we must address the problems which have arisen immediately and this may involve creating a new category of prisoner. I would ask that these matters be examined immediately as the trial of Paul Ward is listed for early January 1998 and the extraditions of Brian Meehan and John Gilligan are imminent. I believe that a reversal of Bowden’s and Warren’s decision to testify in these cases would be severely embarrassing and damaging to the administration of justice in this State. It would almost certainly cause the cases against John Gilligan and Brian Meehan to collapse. Every effort should be made to ensure that Bowden and Warren adhere to their commitment to testify and are not tempted to take the easier route of silence. I believe that the measures recommended herein will balance the scales in the correct direction.

Warren and Bowden enjoyed Christmas and the New Year. They were granted temporary release. They spent time with their families and children.

Gilligan vowed to continue the fight, but it was all doomed to failure. Back home the family kept their spirits up. Darren underwent a miraculous recovery from his addiction in the Coolmine Therapeutic Centre, a drugs rehab situated on the outskirts of Dublin. He was allowed home for the Christmas break conditional on Geraldine banning any alcohol from the house. She covered the bar pumps in her mini-bar and threw out her supply of alcohol in preparation for her son’s return home. The younger members of the family missed Gilligan, particularly his grandchildren. When Tracy’s daughter Shannon asked about her grandfather, her grandmother would reassure the child by saying, ‘He’s driving the buses in England.’

The New Year brought more bad news. In January, Lord Justice May and Justice Astell rejected Gilligan’s application for a writ of habeas corpus in the London High Court. His extradition was upheld. Clare Montgomery QC argued that there had been an abuse of process. ‘The extradition process,’ she said, ‘has been deliberately manipulated.’ Gilligan vowed to challenge the judgement.

Back in Ireland, Grimes was toiling away. When the CAB lost its case against Geraldine, the Bureau decided to try to cut a deal. The negotiations took weeks to finalise and were carried out in strict secrecy. The draft agreement offered to her was IR£12,500 immediately, IR£100,000 at a later date and a IR£500,000 waiver of taxes. In return, she would leave and sign a statement admitting Jessbrook was financed with the proceeds of crime. The deal was strictly confidential. She gave the CAB offer much thought. She looked at properties for sale in Kildare and found a small cottage which she could afford and liked. In her own mind, she had decided to accept the offer but made the mistake of showing it to Grimes, who took pleasure in announcing its existence to the press.
The Sunday Times
published the story on 19 January. ‘I have seen an agreement between an unspecified arm of the State and Geraldine Gilligan,’ said Grimes. ‘Part of the agreement was that she was to confirm that Jessbrook [represented] the proceeds of crime, which would mean that my principal, Joseph Saouma was engaged in crime, which is not true.’