Arrested for murder - twice!
Ian and Joanne Morgan on their wedding day
Thursday 4th October 2007
The morning my hubby, Ian, 35, and I were arrested for murder started off like any other. It was 7am, Monday 10th January 2000. Monday mornings were just as hectic for us as any family. I had to dress and feed our 2-year-old son, Cody, before dropping him at nursery and heading off to my job as a department store window dresser.
Ian had to open up Morgan's Powerhouse, the gym where he worked as a trainer. But that morning, lifting Cody from his bed, I happened to look out of his window.
'No way!' I gasped.
Our cul-de-sac had been cordoned off with yellow tape and hoards of armed police were spilling out of riot vans. Perhaps they were filming a scene from a police drama and simply forgotten to warn us? If that were the case I suddenly realised I had a starring role.
'Joanne,' a police woman called up. 'Come down.'
'Ian,' I screeched. 'There's police outside.'
I guessed they'd made a mistake. But, by the time I walked downstairs, they'd already bundled Ian out of the house. Then they turned to me.
'Joanne Morgan,' a police woman addressed me. 'You're under arrest for the murder of Kevin Nightingale.'
What kind of sick joke was this?
It'd been four years since Kevin had been shot dead outside his flat in South Shields. Kevin, 33, had worked as a bouncer alongside Ian and their friend Shaun Doyle, 27, at the Oz nightclub in South Shields. On that particular Friday night I'd been out clubbing with friends.
At the end of the night I'd met up with Ian as Shaun had offered to give Ian, Kevin and me a lift home. Shaun dropped Kevin off first. It was the last time we saw him alive.
The next day at 8am the police arrived on our doorstep.
'Kevin was gunned down outside his house last night,' they told us. 'Can you come to the police station to help us piece together his final hours?'
Stunned, we agreed. We were never suspects. In fact, over those following weeks, as Kevin was laid to rest, four men were arrested and charged with murder. Apparently Kevin had tried to stop gang members selling drugs in the nightclub.
The papers reported that, on the run up to his murder, he'd been shot at with a crossbow and his home had been petrol bombed. I'd had no idea. I wept for his girlfriend, Julie, and two children.
'This could so easily have been you,' I'd said to Ian.
Thankfully the nightclub shut down and Ian landed a job at a local gym. But, as the months passed, the four men arrested for Kevin's murder were released due to lack of evidence and the case remained unsolved. Ian and I tried to move on.
In August 1997, 18 months after Kevin's murder, I gave birth to our son, Cody. Two years later we married. Now, all of a sudden, the police were arresting us for Kevin's murder.
'We were Kevin's friends,' I wept as I was led to a squad car.
Over the next three days I was interrogated by the police. They wanted to know every last detail about the night Kevin was murdered which was almost impossible. Four years had passed and I'd been tipsy that night.
'We dropped him off at about 2am,' I began.
'Go on,' the policeman urged.
I closed my eyes and tried to picture the scene…
Ian and I'd been sat in the back of Shaun's silver Ford Sierra. We'd pulled up at the top of Kevin's cul-de-sac and he'd walked off into the night.
'There's nothing more to tell,' I wept.
The police didn't believe me. They had Shaun in custody too.
Then they showed me a videotape from a security camera on a house in the street behind Kevin's cul-de-sac. Over the top of a wall you could see the glare of car headlights. Then several shots. Afterwards the policeman looked at me.
'They could have been anyone's headlights,' I gasped.
But the police believed they were ours.
On the third day I was officially charged with murder and taken to Low Newton Prison, in County Durham. Shaking with fear, I sobbed as I was strip searched, then given a grey tracksuit to wear. It wasn't long before two hard looking girls cornered me.
'What are you in for?' one of them asked.
'M-Murder,' I spluttered. 'But I didn't do it.'
'That's what they all say,' they sniggered.
Thankfully, after four weeks behind bars, I was granted bail. Ian's parents Pat and Ronnie were there to pick me up and, unable to face going back to the flat, I moved in with them. A month on, Ian and Shaun were finally released.
Waiting for the case to come to court was a living hell. A few weeks after Ian was bailed we moved back to our flat but, as the trial date grew closer, the atmosphere in the house grew tense.
'How could they think we'd be capable of murdering Kevin?' I wept in Ian's arms.
He was as flummoxed as me. The police had no evidence that we'd shot Kevin - and yet we'd been branded murderers.
Then in November 2000, 11 months after our arrest and a week before the trial was due to start, our solicitor called.
'Come to my office,' he ordered.
Was it bad news? Good news?
'The trial's been called off,' he told us when we arrived. 'There's insufficient evidence.'
Just like that.
The feeling of relief was overwhelming. But, as the days passed, I felt so angry. We'd all lost our jobs. Our lives had been turned upside down. Mud sticks and I knew there must be people out there who believed we were guilty.
Neither of us spoke about what had happened to us. Instead, Ian threw himself into bodybuilding while I sunk deeper into depression.
'We'll get through this,' I told myself.
Only then, in July 2001 - seven months after we were cleared - I'd just woken up Cody when I glanced out of the window.
'Please God, no!' I gasped.
The road was jammed with police vans. Officers were running up our drive.
Like a horrific déj" vu, it was as if the last 19 months had simply vanished into thin air.
'Ian,' I screamed. 'They're coming for us again.'
It happened exactly the same as the first time. Only now I knew what lay ahead and I couldn't control my hysteria.
'We're arresting you for the murder of Kevin Nightingale,' the police announced.
I don't remember being taken to the police station or the questioning that followed. I guess I was in shock. We'd been cleared of murder. How could the police be arresting us again?
After two days being held at the station the police informed me that they'd reinterviewed the witnesses and gathered more evidence. Someone had changed their story, saying they'd seen Shaun's car after hearing the shots.
'They're mistaken,' I wept.
My protests fell on deaf ears.
Ian, Shaun and I were all charged again and I was sent back to Low Newton Prison. The only thing that got me through those next few days was thinking about Cody who was staying with Ian's parents. I had to survive this for him.
After 10 days we were all granted bail. I moved 194 miles to live with Ian's Aunty Joyce and Uncle Ken in Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire. Two months on, as Cody was due to start school, we moved home.
Our lives hung in the balance. Ian was stressed. I was permanently tearful. It was enough to break the strongest of marriages and slowly we drifted apart. Four months on, in December 2001, we were almost strangers as our solicitor called us to his office.
'They've done it again,' he told us.
'What?' I gasped.
'Dropped all charges because of lack of evidence,' he replied.
I couldn't believe it. Once again we were cleared.
It was a hollow victory. Our lives would never be the same again. Just four months later Ian and I split and he moved in with his parents. We were still friends but, after everything we'd been through, we were different people. Because Shaun and I were eligible for legal aid we decided to sue Northumbria police for wrongful arrest and malicious prosecution. In the meantime I struggled on, a single parent.
Two years later, in August 2004, the court action against the police was still rumbling on when I met Graeme Eglintine, 36, in a local bar. It wasn't long before we were a couple and, when I fell pregnant two years later, we were over the moon. But, even when I gave birth to our daughter, Eliny, prejudice still hung over me.
'Would you like a private room,' the midwife asked me after the birth.
'Why?' I asked.
'People on the ward are talking about you,' she shrugged. 'They know who you are.'
It'd been five years since my name had been cleared but suddenly I realised it would never be truly cleared. In some people's minds I'd always be a murderer.
Which is why, as the court case against Northumbria police finally began at the High Court in Newcastle in June this year, I was ready to fight to the bitter end. But on the second day our barrister had news. Northumbria Police had offered Shaun and I a £35,000 settlement. Part of me wanted to tell them where to stick their payout. The other half imagined what good that money could do for my family.
'Enough's enough,' I sighed. 'I'll accept the money.'
Today, Kevin's killer is still on the loose. I hope that one day they catch him. Maybe then people will stop wondering if we're the trio that got away with murder.
Northumbria Police said: 'The Chief Constable accepts that Ian Morgan, Joanne Morgan and Shaun Doyle are innocent of any involvement in the murder of Kevin Nightingale. The Chief Constable has agreed, without any admission of liability, to pay damages and costs to Joanne Morgan and Shaun Doyle.'
Want more cracking reads exclusive to Pick Me Up? Try:
Whatever happened to... Rose Yates who lost 3 children in a house fire?
The daughter in law from hell