Chapter Ten

‘Conscience is the chamber of justice.’

 

- Origen, early Christian writer

Alone in the court, Charlotte and Linda knew they were in the hands of a jury who would decide their fate.

There was nothing more that anyone could do. Privately, they must have realised they would be found guilty of some crime; now everything depended on the conviction, and the sentence the judge would impose.

Noor’s death—even before they had been charged—had a powerful effect on the country. There was no escaping the media interest in the trial, nor the two accused. Ever since they had been charged, they had not had a minute’s peace. The tabloids had even given them nicknames: they were called the ‘Scissor Sisters’. In truth, they blocked as much of this hyperbole from their minds as possible. Uncertain about how to react or respond, they became more inward looking; never before had they been so alone.

They exchanged secret glances, went outside to smoke cigarettes, and sometimes, when the guards would allow them, spoke to their immediate family who came to support them. It seemed clear to themselves, and everyone familiar with the trial, that the evidence was stacked against them.

To the impartial observer, it was simply a matter of deciding whether the jury would return a verdict of murder, or possibly manslaughter. Still, there was always hope.

The seasoned court observers were of the opinion that the jury would return within an hour to deliver a verdict. This assumption, in time, like everything else to do with the killing of Farah Swaleh Noor, would prove to be nothing more than idle thinking.

In contrast to what they expected, when the jury returned to the courtroom a few hours into their deliberations; Judge Carney told them he would accept a majority verdict, in which at least 10 jurors formed the majority. However, he was unequivocal in his desire for a unanimous verdict.

Then a forewoman stood up and explained that they had not yet reached any verdict; this was an unexpected development which took many by surprise. Judge Carney decided to send them to a hotel for the night, where they could rest, and begin their deliberations once more the following morning.

In contrast to what everyone expected, it appeared that the jury were finding it difficult to come to a decision. This had to be interpreted as a good sign.

The next day, at 11am, they returned to the courtroom. Judge Carney sent them away to deliberate the intricacies of the trial once again. Time passed slowly for the two sisters, who despite the trauma that engulfed them, were looking healthy.

The jury emerged at lunchtime, but there was no news. It was at this point that a gradual fear began to grow among onlookers in the court. Although no one dared mention it; there was a possibility that the sisters could be acquitted.

The atmosphere lent itself to coincidences. Still there was no news, even after the jury returned from lunch, and once again resumed their deliberations.

Later that same evening, the courtroom was engulfed with the rumour and counter-rumour of a hung jury. Mangan began to look concerned. Members of the detective team stood around the round hall in small groups, chatting amongst themselves and wondering aloud; this made no sense to any of them.

Hours later, they were called back into the court in time for the jury to emerge from the deliberations room. The defence and prosecution teams quickly assembled themselves in time for the court clerk to announce Judge Carney’s entrance with the words, ‘All rise.’

When the judge had taken his seat, the forewoman stood up and said that they still had not made up their minds.

Most people agreed that they were having difficulty in deciding a verdict. The interpretation of this was to the benefit of the two accused, especially Linda, who had wept openly when her statement was read to the court. This had, in the opinion of some, disturbed the jury and caused them to see her as a vulnerable woman rather than a ruthless killer. There was no doubting that something was causing them to think before coming to a decision.

Aware of the rights of the accused, Judge Carney urged them once more to continue with their deliberations in the morning, and sent them to a hotel once again.

The failure of the jury to return a quick verdict caused a degree of confusion among the media, who had broadly speculated that Charlotte and Linda would be convicted, but even with this rationale, could not understand what was taking so long.

 

*****

 

The next morning, the jury returned once again at 11am and vanished into their deliberations room once Judge Carney had officially opened a new court session. After hours of secret deliberations, they appeared again.

This time, the jury forewoman told Judge Carney that they were deadlocked. Her words sent shockwaves through the courtroom. Though all eyes were on the jury, Charlotte and Linda looked more than taken aback. The jury had deliberated for more than 14 hours at this stage. Without intending to, the jury had thrown Linda and Charlotte a lifeline. The sisters looked at the forewoman, trying to read her eyes, but they could not detect the slightest clue as to what was happening.

It was now Friday night. Mangan could not believe the jury hadn’t delivered a verdict, leading to speculation of an acquittal. In such a situation, Mangan would have preferred a re-trial. Judge Carney remained impassive. He was still of the opinion that justice should prevail no matter what, and encouraged the jury to continue discussing the matter.

In doing so he said: ‘There are five children who have a vital interest in this, as you know, and we’re anxious to reach a conclusion.

‘If you’re in any doubt as to the evidence, you should resolve it in favour of the accused, and if there’s any further help I can give you I’ll be delighted to do so.’

He was of course referring to Linda’s four children and Charlotte’s baby boy. However, the remark caught the prosecution team by surprise. Birmingham rose to his feet as soon as the jury had vanished into their private room. He objected to the Judge’s comment.

Judge Carney, speaking with absolute conviction, stood up and said aloud; ‘Get real Mr Birmingham,’ before disappearing into his chambers. The exchange added more drama to the courtroom.

Later that evening, the jury emerged once more and took their seats. Minutes later, Judge Carney returned to his seat. This time, the jury forewoman stood up, and speaking with as much authority as she could muster, told the judge that they had come to a deadlock, only to have Judge Carney urge them to deliberate for a further half-hour.

However, shortly afterwards they returned. They requested that they go to a hotel for a third night. The forewoman said: ‘We’re talked out. The air upstairs is blue and we wish to come back to this tomorrow.’

This was interpreted as a good sign. What Linda and Charlotte made of the legal jousting will never be known. The sisters looked relaxed. Linda, more than Charlotte, had settled into the routine of the trial and no longer found it intimidating. In the last days of the hearings, they had arrived to the court neatly dressed. Linda wore a shirt and a leather jacket, though she kept the piercing above her upper lip.

Charlotte, who had just had a baby, made a similar impression, but she dressed in denim. Though she wore her hair in a pony tail, it was her eyes that attracted the most attention. Like Linda, she wore heavy eye-liner, which overstated her features. This, perhaps more than anything else, was a mask that detracted attention away from the stomach -churning anguish that overcame her every time she thought about losing her baby. Although the courtroom was besieged with reporters, none saw the panic on the accused sisters’ faces because they masked it so well.

The next day, at 11am sharp, the trial resumed in the Central Criminal Court. The jury were now escorted everywhere by a team of gardaí assigned to protect them and keep them from discussing the trial with anyone outside the jury. That morning was a Saturday, hence the Four Courts complex was empty, but it had been specially opened for the trial.

A scattering of journalists hovered around the round hall outside Court No. 2, waiting in anticipation. Once again, when the jury arrived and appeared before Judge Carney, they vanished from sight into their private room. They emerged an hour later, prompting excitement, but they only wanted to have a cigarette break.

Then, an hour later, rumours circulated that they had come to a decision. It had been three days and the jury had deliberated for 18 hours and one minute exactly.

There was total silence in the court as the jury took their seats. Their entrance was followed by Judge Carney, who returned to the hushed courtroom, and took his seat. Then the forewoman stood up and announced that they had reached a decision. Linda and Charlotte held hands and didn’t say a word.

The forewoman passed a note to the court clerk, who asked if they had reached a decision. The answer was yes.

Linda had been found guilty of manslaughter; Charlotte guilty of murder.

The facts were as follows: 11 members of the panel agreed that Linda was guilty of manslaughter, while 10 convicted Charlotte of the murder of the Kenyan.

Judge Carney then thanked the jury for its careful attention to the verdict, which he said had been a ‘discriminatory’ one. It was over.

 

*****

 

When the verdicts were read out, the sisters did not touch or look at each other. In the silence, both looked down and showed no surprise; their body language never gave them away.

Instead, Charlotte called her solicitor to ask to be allowed to keep her baby. She was distraught; few people thought for a moment about the effects her conviction would have on her little boy.

Isobel Kennedy raised the matter immediately, as her sentence was a forgone conclusion; she would get life imprisonment.

Mangan was seated across the court and looked relieved that it was over, as did the rest of the team.

Moments after the verdicts were delivered, he was called back to the witness box to give evidence. This would assist Judge Carney in imposing a sentence. He had just one opportunity to try to explain his knowledge of the two convicted women.

He began with the facts. Linda, he said, was un-employed and a mother of four young children. Reading from his notes, he said she had a previous conviction for larceny dating back to 1993.

This time, he made a point of emphasising that she came from a troubled background, though the words he used were a ‘very tough family background.’ He continued, in his own measured way, to recount the horrific life Linda had led. He said there was a history of abuse by a violent partner, who had received a ‘substantial jail term’ for cruelty to her children.

Next he spoke about Charlotte, who could only think of her baby boy. He said she had a conviction under the Criminal Damage Act and for a public order offence, but she had received probation. He drew attention to the fact that she had a serious problem with drugs and alcohol, and like Linda, came from a ‘troubled background.’

Mangan had never seen the sisters as the monsters they were made out to be; he correctly saw them as products of society—a harsh and brutal society.

He referred to the death of their late father John, saying: ‘John Mulhall (Snr) was probably in my view the mainstay of the family.’

The court fell silent as he said it was his opinion that the current case had contributed to his death.

 

*****

 

There had been no winners in this trial. The jailing of the Mulhall sisters wasn’t in itself punishment; separation from their children is what hurt them the most. Though Linda’s conviction for manslaughter was a success by all accounts for her legal team; there was no denying this.

Charlotte had been found guilty of murder; there was now nothing anyone could do or say to change that. It was now time for the formalities. Judge Carney next asked about the possibility of a victim impact statement before he sentenced the sisters. Birmingham told him the team had not received any ‘great assistance from the Kenyan authorities.’

Judge Carney adjourned sentencing until 4 December, when he would have more information. The court rose once more.

When he left, Charlotte and Linda came back to life. Charlotte hugged her two brothers as she was led down to the cells. Linda now began to cry. ‘Thank God it’s over,’ she said.

She then kissed each of them, and hugged them tightly, touching their faces, before making her way out of Court No. 2 to join her sister.

She had seemed truly moved by Mangan’s evidence, which was delivered in a sincere and truthful way. Before she left, she shook his hand, and thanked him for everything he had done. She also thanked the other members of the team. Few inside the courtroom fully understood how she had been haunted by Noor’s killing, though Mangan knew full well.

 

*****

 

Linda and Charlotte Mulhall had always accepted they would end up in prison when they began the arduous task of confessing. Linda had been the first to tell the truth. Charlotte had only confessed when confronted with Linda’s admission. In this regard, their incarceration had never been in doubt. Once Linda had made the decision to reveal the truth; her future had been decided. Perhaps, she saw this as a way of absolving herself of the guilt that consumed her.

She had stood to gain nothing by confessing to Mangan; she had not sought a deal, or even attempted to secure a lesser sentence. Instead she had told the truth and done what was asked of her.

It was noteworthy that she had never attempted to blame anyone else for the killing; on the contrary, she had placed her own liberty at risk to protect her father. Of course, she had lied in the beginning, but when she made the mental decision to tell the truth, she did so with a degree of honestly that is a rare occurrence.

Charlotte’s sentence had been a forgone conclusion. Because she had been convicted for murder, her lawyers knew she had to receive a mandatory life sentence. Linda’s case was starkly different; the jury had convicted her for manslaughter, which afforded her trial judge an opportunity to impose a lesser sentence.

Most people agreed that this was likely to happen, but even with this rationale, they knew she would end up in prison for a long time. The sisters returned to Court No. 2 for sentencing on 4 December.

That morning, Judge Carney heard the defence and prosecution make submissions to have the sentencing of the sisters adjourned. The prosecution said the detective team were making efforts to bring the victim’s mother to Ireland to provide a victim impact report.

In their applications, the defence had argued that psychiatric and probation reports were still not ready; they too wished to have the sentencing adjourned. However, Judge Carney rejected the applications on the grounds that both sides had ‘ample time’ to prepare.

This was an unexpected development, particularly for Brendan Grehan, the senior counsel, who had represented Linda. He had been retained to represent Pádraig Nally, a farmer who had shot a traveller at his farm in Co. Mayo. That trial had begun hearing evidence in another court across the round hall.

Therefore when Judge Carney took his seat in Court No. 2, and moved to begin the sentencing hearing, it soon became apparent that Grehan was missing. Judge Carney then asked where Grehan’s junior counsel was. The judge didn’t adjourn the case but sat motionless, then pronounced: ‘Well, we will just have to wait until one of them appears,’ he declared.

Their absence had been an unfortunate error and was not deliberate. Grehan had told his junior that he would represent Linda at her sentencing, but unfortunately had been delayed because he was involved in another important trial. This was beyond anyone’s control. The court sat in silence for ten minutes while efforts were made to locate the barristers. Minutes later, Grehan hurried in, offered his apologies, and prepared to make a submission for leniency on behalf of his client, Linda. The hearing then proceeded.

Grehan, who had managed to achieve a result by having Linda’s charge reduced to manslaughter, now pleaded with the judge to show mitigation. In spite of everything, he said she had co-operated with the investigation, had been remorseful and was the mother of four children. The barrister went further. He said Linda was a ‘good mother to those children.’

This prompted Judge Carney to intervene at once. He referred to the time when Linda had said she ‘wanted to make a trifle for the children rather than go out with gardaí.’

As far as he was concerned, he said he could not accept that someone who put herself in this situation was a good mother.

In a slow and methodical manner, the judge explained what he was about to do. He began by saying the case had been ‘the most grotesque case of killing that has occurred within my professional lifetime. So as far as Charlotte is concerned, the sentence is a mandatory one of imprisonment for life.’

Whilst it was open to him to impose a life sentence for manslaughter, he said the jury had allowed the defence of provocation, and he should respect that. What he said next dimmed the hopes of any reprieve as far as Linda was concerned.

He started off by saying that there were many factors in Linda’s dysfunctional background that the jury had already taken into account in determining the defence of provocation. He noted that she had been highly co-operative with the gardaí. He said she had been ‘very frank in her admissions.’

He went to a great deal of trouble to explain his rationale before he delivered his sentence. In a review of 50 cases of manslaughter, which had been originally tried as murder cases, he said 14 years had been the longest term imposed.

There would be no mitigation for Linda on the grounds of her dysfunctional life. This, he said, permitted him to sentence her to 15 years, but he repeated that if she was, ‘a good mother, she would not have been getting herself into a situation of this kind.’

The drama didn’t end there.

When she heard the sentence; Linda held her face in her hands, and began to cry. This was the moment she had dreaded. In truth, she was devastated and inconsolable. She was troubled by the idea that she would never get to see her children growing up. There were no encouraging signs.

Perhaps she asked herself if she and Charlotte had done the right thing by confessing. Their lives were now ruined for ever. The nightmare had ended, but in many ways it had just begun.

Her father had committed suicide and her children would be without a mother. No matter what way she examined the situation, she was the loser. And to the forefront of her mind was the undeniable fact that her own mother was nowhere to be seen.