It’s been a while. Things have kept me from writing. I’ve missed it though. So have others it would seem. It would be almost impossible to cover the entirety of what I want to share so I’ll just serve up a few morsels to keep my fingers exercised. It looks like I may need them a lot more in the not too distant future.
That Court case. 5 adjournments over a period of 6 months? Yeah I know, pathetic. One arm of the law didn’t realise what the other was playing at. I’m confident that had the trial taken place in Wrexham we would have had a different outcome. Wrexham magistrates and all those who works there are a clique. A collection of nepotism-ists who’ve known each other for decades. They work and play in the same environs. It’s a horrible court. I appeared there numerous times during the 1980’s for lots of stupid crimes including drunkenness, criminal damage and shoplifting. It was the same then. So much so that I once remember a solicitor of mine telling me not to turn up for a hearing involving a few lads who’d been caught signing on whilst working at the same time. I never went on his advice. The next day the lads were talking about the case and wanted to know why I hadn’t turned up. I told them what my brief had said. Turns out, it was my solicitor who was the prosecution solicitor for the DHSS. My personal injury claim was being handling by him. He didn’t mention it afterwards. Result? For me yes. For justice? Lol. He knew the score and instructed me appropriately. Similar solicitors are at it today. Deals are done on a day to day basis.
I fucked up. I tweeted whilst waiting for the ugly one to be sentenced. Ignore what you’ve read elsewhere about the threats of detention and sanctions from the bench. What happened was planned and I fell into the trap. Every suit in that court building was waiting for me to tweet. I obliged. Lunchtime came and went. I sat in the cafe area whilst tweeting. Again? I sat in the cafe area whilst tweeting. No tweets were sent from inside the court room. The judge knew this, the CPS knew this and the defence knew this. It didn’t matter. I’d offered up some mitigation for the defence. As it happens it was the only defence they had. My tweets were served up to the judge and much ado was made of the fact that I’d tweeted about the judge sending a teenage girl to jail for stealing vodka. Nothing to do about the case just a sweeping comment about the previous hearing. The female designated with mitigating for the ugly one was/is a solicitor of the worst kind. Unkempt and slothy in manner. She had someone monitoring my twitter timeline and that someone sent copies to her at the court. The court heard nothing of what the ugly fucker had done for the past few years. The damage he’s caused and the growing number of targets he had. Nothing. I mean nothing. “Complex case”? Just a bit. Not for me but others. The law was fighting the law but from differing parts of the country. His financiers couldn’t control the beast once it had been released. Control was taken from them and the trial at Mold magistrates wasn’t supposed to happen there. They hoped all would be sorted in Wrexham. I don’t know who, how or why it was held in Mold. I only know the CPS didn’t want the trial in Wrexham.
After the guilty verdict sentence was adjourned for two days. Why? They had all the documentation required. They’d had it for months. My victim personal statement, all previous convictions and all mental reports were at hand. But no, they wanted/a deal had been done to hear the sentencing in Wrexham. I didn’t tweet from Mold. I didn’t need to give my evidence either as the defence had accepted it in full. The defence didn’t want me in the witness box for good reasons.
So around 2.30pm the judge slaps the ugly one with a £200 fine and £400 costs. He lectures on about social media being a public wall. I put my note paper in my pocket and follow Nia out of the court. She didn’t turn around and continued to the main entrance. I never got out of the adjoining corridor before I was arrested, handcuffed and searched. My phone was confiscated. The notes I’d written were ignored……for now. I was marched to a waiting police van and the driven 250 yards to the police station and custody suite therein. Bit mental when you consider the court had a corridor that the police used to bring detainees from custody to appear in court. Yes that’s right, you read it right. There is an adjoining walkway that joins the police station to the courts. I was told I’d be taken back in front of the judge for contempt of court. Not alleged contempt but the full Monty. Ugly ones defence had implied to the court I was tweeting from inside the court. The judge hit the roof. Red faced and fuming he ordered me to apologise to the court. I duly did so, on the advice from a lovely lady solicitor who was tasked with visiting me in the cells and informing me of my options. 1. The easy way 2. The hard way. 1. Apologise and walk out. No sentence will be imposed if I played the game. 2. Fight it and be remanded in custody until a trial date could be set.
On the way into court from custody I asked the accompanying G4 guards-why didn’t the police bring me this way after my initial arrest? They had no idea. Or so the said. Very odd. So I’m standing there in the glass walled dock. I look around and my jaw is dropping. It was approximately 5.30pm. My experience (40 odd years) of magistrate’s courts has evidenced to me that magistrates are normally empty by 3.30pm, 4pm at the latest. Was a it busy day? Not that I noticed. Anyway my jaw is on the floor because the court was half full. More suits than I’d seen all day. Not a single member of the public but the faces of all those who live and work round the justice system in Wrexham. Even the ugly ones defence lawyer had returned. There were police officers x3, CPS, probation x4, other lawyers x6 and more nameless people.
I took my bollocking and was led back to the cells. Guess which way. Yep, down the corridor again. You know the one the police didn’t use after my arrest. My wedding ring was returned to me along with my smokes and phone. I was released through a back door of the custody suite. I never signed for my property. Indeed, I never had to sign for anything. I wasn’t booked into custody you see. There was no custody sergeant interview who asked me for my details, no strip search and no offer of a solicitor. Weird? Just a bit.
The reports in the police newspaper known locally as the Daily Post duly followed the next day here. As you will see the report was angled to hide the fact that I’d been arrested and detained- “for sending malicious tweets moments after his abuser was sentenced”. Rubbish. Then more of the same “the judge threatened to have Darren Richard Laverty arrested for contempt of court during Jones’ sentencing at Wrexham Magistrates Court on Wednesday”.
The judge didn’t say a word actually. I was leaving the court after sentence had been passed when the police handcuffed me. Not one word was mentioned about contempt of court by the judge. He said nothing to me. It was only after he’d finished and I was outside the court. Then, and only then it was said by the police not the judge. Some more? OK. “But in an unusual twist, tweets posted by Laverty were brought to the court’s attention with the judge threatening to have him whisked off to the police station and charged with contempt of court.” The only tweets the judge has sight of were tweeted on the previous Monday after the guilty verdict and from the cafe on the Wednesday morning at Wrexham magistrates. The solicitor knew, I knew, the CPS knew and the judge must have known. The timing of the tweets proved they were sent in the morning and not after lunch. As you’ve read I wasn’t threatened. My liberty was taken. I was arrested and locked up for a few hours. Not that the records will show. I have nothing official to prove I’d been arrested and detained. Mad yeah? Just a bit. One more. As if I need to prove it, the Daily Post was working hand in hand with another to provide an incorrect report that suited those it was written for.
After returning home and trying to make sense of the day’s events I tweeted to all those who were in the court room. All my viewers who waited for my apology to be made, or not as might have been the case, 2. The hard way!!! The Post delivered it this way-“Yesterday, he posted: “I’m supposed to be in jail tonight. I’m not. #ContemptOfCourt”. Notice the slant? That little slant they use to try and convince the ever falling in numbers of readers of my guilty actions? Or where the Post fed the wrong information by someone else? Did someone want to hide my detention behind false news gossip? I don’t know or care. I do know this though- After my arrest I was frog marched in front of the public and the ugly one and his nurse in handcuffs. He smiled and so did she. Was that the price of a guilty verdict? Was it some kind of payback? Was it expected for me to take option 2, the hard way? Trust me, if I wasn’t the dad/partner I am I would have.
The notes? They were used as evidence that I was writing from the back of the court. I argued that it was perfectly legal to take notes. Not in my case it’s not. I needed permission from the judge apparently. What had I written? I remember writing his defences mitigation other than the tweets I’d sent. For instance-although her ugly client had denied any memory (due to being mentally mental as confirmed by his mental nurse) of writing the vile disgusting blogs, if he had, as was proven, he was profusely apologetic for his actions. Make of that what you choose to. Interestingly, and maybe this is what it was all about-she stated that her client was involved with “other similar issues” that are at “DI level”. I take that as being Detective Inspector level. Weird? Just a bit. I also noted his address as being Third Avenue, Llay, near Wrexham. That was the first time in six months his new address had been heard in public. Weird? Just a bit. Well only until you read this link anyway.
Oh, as a side note-I haven’t used my phone since I was released. It felt different, a bit weird…just a bit.
Tweets considered a defence for three years of trolling