My caring sister… tortured and raped
they tortured my sister, ate a curry, then burned her alive
Grinning at my sister, Quyen, I threw open the doors of our new nail bar. ‘It’s a fresh start,’ I beamed.
It was July last year, and me and Quyen, 28, had just launched Glitter Nails in Birtley, Gateshead. We were so proud. Quyen was my little sister, I doted on her.
She’d moved to England from our home country, Vietnam, in autumn 2009 to study Business Management at uni in London.
Two years on, I’d followed and we’d both settled down and had kids.
Only, in September 2016, Quyen had split up with her partner. ‘It’s over,’ she’d sobbed. Desperate to help, I had an idea. ‘Move in with us,’ I said. I lived in Bolton at the time, but in January last year we all moved into a house in Killingworth, near Newcastle.
First, me, my partner Hung, 40, our son Kenny, 3, and my two kids from a previous relationship, Helen, 10, and Anna, 6. Then Quyen, and her son, then 5.
We’d quickly settled in. Quyen had a heart of gold, and got some work helping other families to find rented homes within the Vietnamese community.
‘I met a nice handyman today,’ she’d told me in April last year.
Stephen Unwin did maintenance work for local landlords, and he’d shown Quyen around a rental property. They’d got chatting. ‘Invite him round for dinner to thank him,’ I’d suggested.
She never did, but they became friends.
They’d work together, text, go for coffee.
Nothing romantic, but after such heartache, I was pleased she’d found a friend. ‘He’s a good guy,’ she said. That July, we opened our nail bar together.
Business boomed – working and living with my baby sister was a dream.
On 14 August last year, I left Quyen to lock up while I went home to look after the kids.
‘See you at home,’ I called.
‘See you soon,’ she smiled.
Only, later – as I put the kids to bed – Quyen still wasn’t back. Strange, I thought. Perhaps she’d met up with some friends.
But as the clock ticked past midnight, there was still no sign of her.
And no answer when I called.
When Quyen didn’t open the shop the following morning, I panicked. ‘It’s not like her to stay out all night,’ I fretted to Hung.
Worried, I reported her missing.
The police launched a search, and I trawled the streets for hours, looking everywhere I could think of. By 3pm, I was back home, beside myself with worry.
Then came the knock at the door.
Two female officers stood there and I waited for them to tell me Quyen was OK. They didn’t. ‘We’ve found Quyen’s car,’ one said. ‘It’s been burnt with her body inside.’ I broke down. My beautiful little sister – who I’d always looked after and protected – was dead.
And they thought she’d
as the clock ticked past midnight, there was no sign of her
been murdered.
Why would anyone hurt Quyen?
I thought, stunned.
She was the kindest, most loving person you could meet.
Helen was distraught – she’d overheard the police tell me the news, but I thought it best to protect the younger ones from the horrific truth.
Police soon charged two men with Quyen’s murder.
I’d never heard of one of them – William Mcfall, 51.
But I recognised the other name... Stephen Unwin, 40. ‘But Stephen was her friend,’ I sobbed. I couldn’t understand it. They were held on remand, and a month on we said goodbye to Quyen.
At her funeral, we burnt incense, said prayers. I was inconsolable. Then Unwin and Mcfall were charged with raping Quyen, too. It tore me apart. Quyen’s son went to live with his dad, while my three kept asking for their auntie. It broke me every time. Eventually, I had to go back to work so that I could put food on the table.
But this January, our nail bar burnt down when an electrical fault caused a fire.
Devastated, I’d lost my sister and now the business we’d built together.
Still, before I could catch my breath, it was February and Stephen Unwin and William Mcfall’s trial began at Newcastle Crown Court. They both pleaded not guilty to rape and murder. I gave evidence about what I knew of Stephen Unwin, and how it felt to lose Quyen. Then I sat in court every day, desperate to know what’d happened to my sister. But nothing could’ve prepared me for what unfolded. The court heard how they had planned the attack.
We raping the Chink,
Mcfall had texted Unwin that August evening.
Then Unwin had texted Quyen back.
We were looking to move house at the time.
And he’d invited Quyen over to his home in Houghton-leSpring on the pretext of taking her to view a property. He’d lured her into a trap. Once she’d arrived, the pair had pounced. They dragged her through the house, tortured her for her PIN numbers.
They put a pillow or plastic bag over her head, suffocating her. Then Unwin had raped her. She’d been sexually assaulted, beaten until she fell unconscious. And there were other terrible details of the brutal attack.
CCTV also showed Unwin leaving briefly, to withdraw £500 from Quyen’s bank account.
Then the pair ate a curry while my sister lay lifeless.
Yet their savagery wasn’t over...
Then came the final gutwrenching revelation...
After subjecting her to a four-hour ordeal, the monsters put Quyen’s unconscious body into her car. They dumped her on a secluded dirt track, splashed her with petrol and set her on fire.
Forensic evidence showed it was likely that Quyen was ‘just alive’ when her car was torched.
She was burned alive.
Firefighters found her charred remains face down on the back seat of her Audi.
Her body was identified through dental records.
I felt sick to my stomach.
But still it got worse.
They’d then fetched Unwin’s car, driven to a cashpoint, stolen another £500 from Quyen’s account.
And on the way, Mcfall had snapped a sick selfie of them both.
Sitting relaxed, happy in the front of the car. Grinning.
Then he’d sent it to his girlfriend. Chilling.
And then came the final gut-wrenching revelation.
Unwin and Mcfall had met in prison, where they were both serving life sentences. For murder. I listened, shell-shocked, as the court heard Unwin had beaten and stabbed retired pharmacist John Greenwell, 73, while breaking into his home on Christmas Day 1998. He’d torched his house, before later admitting murder. And in April 1997, Mcfall had pleaded guilty to murdering widow Martha Gilmore, 86, when she found him burgling her home. He’d battered her to death with a hammer. Mcfall had been released on licence in October 2010, Unwin in December 2012. They’d then got back in touch over Facebook. During the trial, they each blamed the other for killing Quyen. Unwin had the audacity to claim he and Quyen were in a relationship and that they’d had consensual sex. But the jury rejected their lies. Unwin was convicted of rape and murder, while Mcfall was found guilty of murder. This time, they were sentenced to die behind bars. But it’s not good enough. My sister should’ve been protected from these monsters. ‘Why were they free?’ I wept to Hung. They were convicted murderers, violent to the extreme – how were they deemed safe to be released? We thought this was a safe place to bring up our families, that such wicked men didn’t exist here. They looked ordinary, yet they’ve ripped the heart out of our family. The judge said they were ‘chillingly devoid of any human empathy’. But they’re not human beings at all. They’re pure evil.