THE NEXT MONTH FLEW BY. What with all the delays, I had decided to move back to Australia. We had a barbecue party on Guy Fawkes Night and headed upstairs to watch the fireworks let off at the Brighton Pier. It was a great night but a bit sad that we would soon be back in Australia, a long way from some of our friends and family.
The packers came, leaving us only our bare necessities to get through the next two months. Lance and I camped on the lounge floor and the next day we farewelled our home and headed to stay with Shelley and her family until the trial.
Debbie from the SST was amazing and found us the perfect accommodation in Christchurch for the trial — an apartment above Rendezvous Hotel, only minutes from the court. Without Debbie taking over this chore and dealing with Victim Support I’m sure I would have ended up in the loony bin.
Phil and Helen’s wedding, 12 November 2005.
Seventeen
The Trial Begins
It was good to be out of our home and have everything sorted for the shift back to Australia. The girls really missed Lily the dog, but they knew she was happy living back with her family. They still talk about her and miss her. It was a busy time getting organised for the trial and the girls for school camp, which started the first day of the trial.
Mum and Dad had to be at the airport early on the Friday morning, so Andrew stayed there the night and took them to the airport. When I rang to check if they had made it there on time, as there are often breakdowns or crashes on the highway that make it touch and go with making flights, he had just recovered from the stress of not being able to find Mum’s passport! But all was good now and they made their flight and arrived in Christchurch at 3 p.m.
It had already been a busy day for me but thankfully my friend Lisa met me at the police station and took the girls for a few hours. I met with Greg and got a copy of both my statements to refresh my memory before I went on the stand at the start of the second week.
I raced into the courts to confirm taking my parents there later that afternoon for a court orientation and to meet the lady who would be doing it, went to the supermarket and picked up some last-minute things for Mum and Dad and dropped them at the motel, ready for their arrival.
Lance was meant to be working till around two in Yaldhurst, so the plan was to grab him on the way to the airport but all good plans go awry. I had to fit in a last-minute trip to the doctor’s with one of the girls and Lance’s pick-up point had changed to Ferrymead. There just wasn’t enough time for everything that needed to be done, plus we had to pick up a rental car before we got Mum and Dad. No wonder I got a speed camera ticket that day!
I had to get Lance to leave me to sort the rental car and get to the airport so Mum and Dad weren’t stressing. Dad was very anxious about driving in Christchurch, about changes from the earthquakes and whether he would remember how to get around, so Lance drove the girls and I drove Mum and Dad and we headed for the Crown solicitor’s office.
I had had to ask the court in August for confirmation of Helen accepting Rupert Glover as lead counsel if Sewell wasn’t well enough. I had heard that Helen had refused to have him take over, but that would have been little more than a stalling tactic. If Helen agreed to accept Glover as lead counsel in front of him, it wouldn’t be so easy for her to back out.
We sat down with Brent Stanaway and were shocked to be told that it wasn’t 100 per cent guaranteed that the trial would go ahead on Monday! The defence lawyer had made his intentions clear that he would challenge whether there was time to hold the trial before Christmas — that if it went for too many days before the jury went out then they would be under duress to come to a verdict. Brent also explained the process and I asked if I could be in the courtroom at the start to see the jury selection. He was happy for this to happen and also for me to hear the Crown’s and defence’s opening.
From the Crown solicitor’s office in Fendalton we made a mad dash for the courthouse in town, making it just in time to get in the door. The court victim advisor I’d met in the morning took us for a tour and into the courtroom, explaining to Mum and Dad who would be sitting where and the roles of the different people in the court. Lance and I both took a turn at sitting in the witness box as she explained things to my parents, which gave us a bit of a perspective of how things would be when we gave evidence.
It had only been when I’d been on a tour earlier that I was made aware that, like so many other things, it’s not like how we see it on TV. The defence counsel cannot leave the area where they are seated. If they need evidence shown to you in the witness box, a court official picks it up from them, takes it to the judge to be approved and then brings it to you. They do not get to get up in your face and intimidate witnesses or put on a show to the jury like on TV. This was such a relief to me; I knew the defence would try to rip me to bits but their not being able to do it right up in my face was going to make it a lot easier to deal with. And of course Lance didn’t miss the opportunity of racing up and sitting in the judge’s chair.
It was an eye-opener to see how close Helen would be seated to our family in the public gallery. From the front row of the public gallery you could have leaned forward over the barrier and slapped her around the back of the head, and I don’t think there was a day that went by when that thought didn’t cross my mind nor most of the others.
We took Mum and Dad to the motel and settled them in for the night, heating them a dinner I’d pre-made for them. I left them the rental car in the hope the next day Dad felt more confident to venture out. However, by the time I made it in to Christchurch on the Saturday it was nearly lunchtime and the motel owner was busy changing a flat tyre on the rental car — nothing was ever simple or straightforward!
On the Sunday we got together with extended family for lunch at Sequoia 88 for a belated 80th birthday celebration for Mum. I’d got her a lovely chocolate mud cake and candles and for a couple of hours there we all put the trial out of mind.
MONDAY MORNING WAS AN EARLY start, packing the car with the girls’ stuff for camp and a first load of things for shifting into the apartment for the trial. I dropped the girls to school early, ready for camp; I was relieved they would be off for a couple of days of fun with their classmates, and it was going to be a good way for them to farewell their friends before moving back to Australia.
When the first trial date was delayed to August, I had spoken with the year dean at their school and we concluded it would be best that the girls didn’t tell any of their friends about the upcoming trial, especially with it being months away: whoever was a friend right now may not be by the time of the trial, and teenagers’ gossip can get totally out of hand. The girls’ teachers knew the trial was starting and were ready to support them if there were any issues. Thankfully the girls had a wonderful time at camp, oblivious to the news of the trial.
I picked up Jayne Crothall from the SST and we headed to Mum and Dad’s motel. They weren’t ready yet and said they would come after the jury selection, so Jayne and I walked down to the court.
The Crown and defence teams had already met in the judge’s chambers, with the defence arguing the lack of time before Christmas for the trial to proceed, but thankfully the judge didn’t buy in to the delay tactic. As we headed for the courtroom we were told it was all on.
As a precaution the judge changed the start time of court from 10 a.m. to 9 a.m.
There were news reporters and cameramen on the court steps waiting to catch family entering. We managed to walk in without being recognised — constantly changing my hair colour was paying off.
Jayne and I sat alone in the public gallery. The courtroom was filled with media — too many for the media bench — so there were another four or six sitting in the front right of the gallery by the jury. A TV camera was being set up and a still cameraman was working out the best vantage points for the important shots. Law firm juniors brought in files and the Crown and defence prepared their folders and paperwork on their workbenches for the following weeks. It all
seemed so surreal: a week off four and a half years since that night at Helen’s when I knew without a doubt she had murdered Phil, we were finally here, at trial.
The court official tried to tell us we would have to leave; that there wouldn’t be room when the potential jury members came in. But Jayne immediately jumped to our defence, explaining that I’d waited over four years for this and that the Crown had given me permission to be in here, as once the trial commenced I wouldn’t be allowed back in until after I’d given evidence. He apologised and left us to it.
When Helen entered the courtroom she spotted me and motioned to Glover to have me removed, but Brent Stanaway made it clear I was staying for now but would be leaving before the trial commenced. I wasn’t going to be able to make the opening arguments, as I needed to get back to the motel and help Mum and Dad get to court.
Helen stood in the dock with Corrections staff, conversing with her lawyers as the jury was selected. The court registrar drew out numbered balls which corresponded to the names of those called for jury duty. One lady who was selected definitely didn’t want to be there; she stomped over to the jury seats and when given the chance she spoke to the judge and was excused. There was another lady that it seemed Helen knew, so she was challenged by the defence.
Several other potential jurors were challenged. In one of my many questions to Helen Knowles she explained the jury-picking process and it was interesting to watch it in action but it was also hard, knowing this was all now in the hands of these 12 people to make the right decision.
I looked over the jury and was very happy with those who had been selected. We made our own decision on who we thought would be the best choice for head juror and were very happy when the rest of the jury came to the same conclusion. The jury was a good mix of people and all looked to be interested in and committed to the case, and well capable of their task as jurors.
I walked back to Mum and Dad’s motel thinking about the people on the jury. I was grateful to them for giving up their time to do this and I did not envy the task ahead of them.
I left Jayne to take Mum and Dad back to the court with other family and friends who had arrived at their motel. We had a small office on the same floor as the courtroom which we had set up for a break room for tea and coffee and I’d brought in biscuits for morning tea.
I cope the best under pressure and stress when I’m busy, so it helped that I had a million things to do. I met the property manager at the apartment we were going to be staying in, to collect the keys. It was amazing: it was on the 16th floor of the Rendezvous Hotel building, and because the 15th floor and above were private apartments separate from the hotel, the general public was unable to access these floors. So it was like our own little hideout where only people who could get a hold of us on our cell phones could get us to let them in. But of course Lance found a way around that; when I didn’t hear him calling one day I heard him knocking on the fire escape door!
We had about 270-degree views of Christchurch, which I found beautiful and calming. However, several of my friends who had weathered the earthquakes came up to our apartment but weren’t in any rush to go out on the balcony or get too close to the windows!
The walk-in wardrobe in the master bedroom was to die for and I knew I wasn’t going to want to leave. I emptied my car and picked up the lunch I’d ordered from the bakery for those at court. The rest of the day I filled with the trip back out to Rangiora to get the rest of our belongings and a big shop at the local supermarket.
When the court finished for the day, Jayne delivered Mum and Dad to our new home. We watched the news, flicking between both channels, as now with the trial starting the media ban had been lifted. Lisa called over that evening with beautiful pizzas and wine and it was nice to just chill out and have a glass with her.
Eighteen
The Queen v Milner
Obviously the second police investigative team had done a better job than the first lot, because this was the evidence that they planned to present at the trial. Some of these things I knew, suspected or had investigated myself, and the rest was the result of detective work, which should of course have been done in the first place, by the initial police team:
On 24 January 2008, Helen and Philip together took out a life insurance policy for Philip for $257,000, naming Helen as the beneficiary in the event of his death. There was a clause that invalidated the policy if suicide was cause of death in the first 13 months.
For over a year before Phil’s death, Helen openly discussed relationship problems the couple were having, with friends, neighbours and colleagues. She told people that she believed she would be better off financially without him, but was concerned about sharing the equity she had in the house with him, as she told people he had tax debts of $50,000. She said he wanted to shift to Australia and she didn’t. She had also discussed ways of killing him, including using rat poison, and asked work colleagues where she could get it from.
Two weeks before Phil’s death she told a tradesman who came to the house that her husband ‘wouldn’t be around much longer’! A year previously she also told a neighbour that she was thinking about putting something in his food or drink so he would fall asleep while driving his delivery truck off Otira Gorge and crash, but she hadn’t found the right drug to use yet.
On 23 January 2009, Helen used a false name but her own address to purchase a restricted, pharmacy-only drug called Nausicalm (cyclizine hydrochloride) at the Unichem Pharmacy in Hornby. This is an anti-nausea drug with the possible side-effects of dizziness, weakness, itchiness, hot and cold flushes, breathing difficulty, hypotension, nausea and general feeling of unwellness. The packaging cautions users against driving a vehicle or operating machinery within eight hours of taking it. Helen bought ten 50 mg Nausicalm tablets and paid cash, having earlier withdrawn some cash from an ATM at Riccarton Mall.
On 18 March — about three weeks after the anti-suicide clause in the life insurance policy expired — Helen and Phil went to Australia on holiday. While there, Phil took an unknown quantity of promethazine (Phenergan), which as we know is an antihistamine. It was on this holiday that Phil slept for 14 hours after taking the Phenergan.
The police alleged that Helen’s first attempt to kill Phil was on 15 April. They think she fed him some ground-up tablets in his food, and at 7.30 a.m. he collapsed while doing a delivery in the High Street Mall. He was taken to hospital and was observed to be experiencing dizziness and nausea, feeling lethargic and weak, hypotension (low blood pressure), pain in his lower right leg, itchiness and hot and cold flushes. No significant medical problem was found and Helen drove him home in the late morning.
After Helen dropped Phil home from the hospital she headed into the city centre to South City, where she withdrew $100 cash from an ATM then, minutes later, purchased ten 25 mg Phenergan tablets using the cash, from the South City Pharmacy. She gave the pharmacist a false name and address. The name Helen used was that of a woman who had been accused of poisoning her fiancé, who had recently been in the news and in Woman’s Weekly.
Later that night Helen made her second attempt to kill Phil. She ground up some more tablets and put them in his food. A short time later he started feeling very unwell and throwing up and she took him back to the hospital. Once again the doctors could find no medical problem, although Phil was very concerned about his health, so they sent him home again with Helen.
Two weeks later, on 2 May, Helen returned to South City and withdrew some more cash from an ATM. She then proceeded to Pharmacy Xtra on Moorhouse Ave, just two blocks from South City and purchased fifty 25 mg Phenergan tablets with the cash. This time she used Karen’s name, and an address similar to Karen’s!
On Sunday, 3 May Phil sent Ben a text at 4.36 p.m., making plans to see him the following day to drop off his hoodie. He said he would text him in the morning.
This time Helen ground up all 50 Phenergan tablets and mixed them into Phil’s dinner.
The next morning at 5.47 she ca
lled the police to say she had found Phil dead in his bed. Paramedics attended and declared him dead. When police arrived, they found blister packs which had contained fifty 25 mg Phenergan tablets in the bedside drawer.
Helen then turned on her phone and showed police the supposed ‘suicide text’, which had been sent from Phil’s phone the previous night. Over the following weeks she also produced the fake suicide note and showed it to several people. She then gave the police a different note, with Phil’s name typed, rather than his faked signature on it.
Helen was then granted an ACC payment of $500 a week due to her husband’s suicide, which she drew for two and a half years, until her arrest — a total of $55,000.
WITH MUM’S AND DAD’S HEALTH deteriorating since Phil’s death I hadn’t expected that they would be well enough to attend court each day. Mum was never good in the mornings so I didn’t even know if she would make it to the start of court. On the Tuesday I had risen early and done some baking then headed off to the shops to get some supplies for everyone’s lunch. I was usually so organised, but in some ways my two or three trips to the supermarket a day were a good escape and way of filling in my time. Jayne was busy with work that morning but Debbie and Ruth from the SST had flown down from the North Island to help out.
Ruth and Debbie cracked me up as they made sandwiches to take in to court for the lunches, then Ruth headed off to court. Jayne came to hang with me for the afternoon once she had finished work and we chatted as I put up our beautiful white Christmas tree and decorated it in blue and silver. I’m so grateful these ladies understood the dynamics of it all and how stir-crazy I would have gone if I’d been left alone the whole time.
Black Widow, The: How One Woman Got Justice for Her Murdered Brother Page 14
