Chapter 20
Twenty
Newt shared a cell on remand. The person with him spent most of the night pacing and talking to himself.
Newt curled up on his bunk and stayed awake.
The agitated guy was no older than him and…
not right. Maybe coming down off drugs. He kept asking Newt if he had anything. Newt said, “No,” time after time.
It might be a different prison to the one he’d been in, but it was the same in most respects.
Same concrete box with hard beds and little privacy.
Same grey jogging bottoms and top, along with standard trainers.
The irony when no one’s jogging anywhere.
Same smell of unwashed bodies and disinfectant and stuff he didn’t want to identify.
Same sounds—crying, moaning, yelling, farting.
It sent his spirits on a freefall to despair. Not that they had far to fall.
Yesterday, Newt had been so traumatised he’d not asked for legal representation. It should have been the first thing he’d done when he’d been taken to the police station. But his head had been too full of River and Phelan.
After they were let out of their cell in the morning, Newt approached a prison officer.
“Excuse me. I came in last night. I need to speak to a solicitor. I’ve not spoken to one yet.”
“Do you have one you can call?”
“No. I don’t know anyone. I wanted to make other calls too but I don’t have any money.”
“Get a friend or family member to add money to your prison phone account once it’s set up. Who’s your designated officer?”
“Officer West.”
“I’ll speak to him. He can get you a phone PIN and add credit. You can’t ring anyone without the number having been checked. You can call your lawyer for free.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Newt knew how slowly things could work inside. But he was legally entitled to a phone call within twenty-four hours of arrival so hopefully, he wouldn’t have to wait too long for that.
It was after lunch, that he tried and failed to eat, before he was given the phone PIN and the approved number to call a duty solicitor called Dominique Samson. He had to wait in line to use a phone.
“Can I speak to Ms Samson, please. This is Newt Jones calling from HMP Belmond.” His heart thumped as he waited.
“Mr Jones? This is Dominique Samson.”
Newt quickly explained what had happened. Then asked the question he really wanted answering. “Can you please find out what happened to River? I can’t call anyone to ask. I don’t know the numbers and I have no money.”
“I’ll do what I can. I’ll come and see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
Newt wanted to believe he wouldn’t stay locked up for long, but he had to accept he might be facing another seven years—the rest of his sentence—and maybe more for killing Barney. It was the worst-case scenario. If he could face that, then…
He borrowed a fantasy book from the library and curled up on his bed, but he couldn’t get beyond the first page.
He kept reading the same line over and over, his thoughts jumping between Phelan and River.
He’d told Phelan he’d go to his funeral and he might not be able to.
But his biggest concern was River. If the news about him was bad… How can I bear it?
When he was taken from his cell the next morning to meet his lawyer, he was relieved he wasn’t going to have to wait all day to hear about River. But when he was led into the room, a man stood up and offered his hand. “I’m Tim Bailey. I’m a solicitor.”
“Newt Jones. Er… I was expecting Dominique Samson.”
The man frowned. “In connection with why you’re currently in here?”
“Yes.”
“This is a different legal matter. Please sit down.”
Different? Newt gulped and sat down. “Do you know anything about River Lawson? Is he all right?”
“I’m afraid I don’t. I’m your brother’s solicitor.”
“Phelan?” He didn’t even need to ask. It wouldn’t be Sean. “How did you know I was in here?”
“Phelan gave me your number after you went to see him. When the hospice informed me that he’d passed away, I called you, but you didn’t answer.
I left a message, only for the police to call me back on your phone.
I’ve not, as yet, told them details of why I wanted to speak to you, only that it was unconnected with your current situation.
But I will have to talk to them at some point. ”
“Right.”
The lawyer pulled an envelope from his pocket, took out two pieces of paper and unfolded them, flattening them on the table.
“Phelan wrote this statement and letter two months ago. The statement is signed, witnessed by me, and has been kept secure by my firm. He wanted you to read it and the letter that goes with it, and for me to act on the contents after his death, as far as I’m able.
” He handed the letter and the statement to Newt. “These are copies.”
Newt read the letter.
Hi Newt,
I really hope this is one letter of mine that you read. It’s important that you do. Please read it.
First of all, I’m sorry for everything. I’d like to have told you how sorry I was to your face but I doubt I’ll get the chance to do that.
A day has never passed without me thinking about you and regretting what was done.
I don’t expect you to forgive me for the lies I told.
I don’t expect to be forgiven for keeping quiet all these years when I could have put everything right before I died.
I am so sorry that I did this to you. You didn’t deserve it. I failed you as a brother and as a human being.
Please accept the money I’ve left you in my will. It was earned legally. I want you to have it. I wish it was more.
Let Mr Bailey put right what he can. I want him to help you.
I’m sorry for not being the brother I should have been.
I missed you so much.
I aways loved you and I know you’ll find that hard to believe. But you were the star in our family. You were the one I wanted to give the world to and instead, I took it away.
I hope that one day you can forgive me.
Phelan x
Newt put the letter down, his throat thickening. He waited a beat, pulling himself together, before he picked up the statement.
It was a detailed confession by Phelan, admitting to the robbery.
He spoke about Lily and the baby that wasn’t and his fear that he’d not be able to watch his child grow up.
He gave details about that night that Newt hadn’t known but maybe the police would.
Phelan said he hadn’t acted alone, that he’d taken the gun from his mate’s hand after it had been fired.
But Phelan didn’t name him, just said it wasn’t Newt.
He also said that Sean and their parents had talked him into what they’d done because a second conviction for him would be so much more severe than a sentence for a first offence for Newt.
He said their mother had lied, injected Newt with ketamine obtained by Sean and put Phelan’s clothes, the gun and the stolen jewellery in Newt’s room.
She’d made sure Newt’s fingerprints were on it.
Rathnait had lied when she’d said Newt hadn’t told her to turn her music down.
Both his mother and his sister could have alibied Newt but had connived not to.
Newt shivered. Memories of that night were still raw and painful.
The statement wasn’t just about the robbery but confessions to a whole load of criminal activity, mostly involving cars that Phelan had been involved with along with Sean and their father.
Phelan had given details of their father’s contacts abroad and in this country.
The ghost number plate system they ran. The money laundering scheme.
There were names and dates and account numbers. Fucking hell, Phelan!
And the final words…
Newt and Rathnait were not involved in any way with the family’s illegal activities. Apart from the lie Rathnait told that might have cleared Newt, at that time, she was ignorant of exactly what the family did.
I make this statement in the hope that wrongs will be put right. I’m sorry for all my mistakes. I failed my brother and I lived with that shame.
Newt put the statement down and exhaled.
“I know it possibly won’t mean much but he was so sorry, Newt.”
Newt nodded.
“The hospice told me you went to see him before he died.”
“Twice. We took him out to look at the sea the first time. He ate a few chips and a bit of fish.” He looked directly at the lawyer and let out a shaky breath. “I forgave him.”
The lawyer nodded. “That was very kind.”
“It meant a lot to him and it helped me too.” He swallowed hard. “We went again on the day he died. I had a call from the hospice. No one in the family would go. The fucking bas…sorry. I held him as he passed away.”
“I am very sorry for your loss.”
“He was a good brother until…” Newt blinked the tears from his eyes. “What now? Does the confession make any difference to me?”
“It’s new evidence. Lawyers can act on your behalf to petition for an appeal.
The grounds being that the original conviction was unsafe due to this new information.
They’d have to argue for the document’s admissibility in court but it was drawn up with that possibility in mind.
It might be argued that Phelan knew he was dying and lied to try and help you get your criminal record expunged. ”
Newt sucked in his cheeks. He hadn’t thought about that. The brief hope he’d felt as he’d read the confession began to disintegrate. His parents and Sean would deny everything.
“Don’t lose hope. Your age when this happened, your refusal to let any of your family visit while you were inside, your rejection of any correspondence they sent you, your insistence on changing your name, your reaction to your brother and father when they tried to collect you the day of your release… ”
“You know about that?”