It had been a good St Patrick’s weekend. I was the garda superintendent with responsibility for Gorey Garda District, County Wexford, and I was not on call that particular weekend. I was also looking forward to a holiday in Sicily, with my girlfriend. As I was getting into bed, I glanced at the alarm clock and telephone on the bedside locker. No need to set the alarm this time: a lie-in was very much on the cards. The telephone was a different kettle of fish: that would never be taken off the hook, day or night. I was awakened from a deep sleep by the sound of the phone ringing, and glanced apprehensively at the alarm clock, which indicated it was 4.45 AM. Past experience would suggest that this was trouble.
Garda Tony Ryan, of Arklow Garda Station, was on the phone. ‘Superintendent Flynn, you had better get up to Jack White’s straight away. Tom Nevin has been shot, and Catherine was tied up.’ Is he dead? I enquired. Yes, came the quick reply. My usual standard of dress, be it uniform or civilian attire (consisting of a neat suit or, alternatively, a sports jacket and slacks), seemed of little importance, so I slipped quickly into a white pullover and slacks, and set out from Gorey to Jack White’s pub, in Arklow, County Wicklow, a distance of seventeen miles.
En route to Jack White’s Inn, I tried to grasp the magnitude of Garda Ryan’s message – that a murder had been committed within the garda district for which I had responsibility. A murder, and its subsequent investigation, is not a welcome visitor to any garda superintendent, especially one in charge of a country district. With luck, a country garda superintendent might expect a murder-free tenure. I was not one of the lucky ones: this would be my third murder investigation in the space of a few years. Neither of the others had aroused such national, and even international, interest as did the murder of Tom Nevin. One was committed during a weekend motorcycle rally, and the other involved a domestic dispute in which a son was convicted of the murder of his father.
I instinctively knew that this investigation would be a minefield. Catherine Nevin, the wife of the murdered man, had crossed swords with many of the local Gardaí, and had made serious allegations against Gardaí Vincent Whelan and Michael Murphy. Not surprisingly, relations between Catherine and some Arklow-based Gardaí was little short of poisonous. However, the situation with regard to some high-ranking officers in An Garda Síochána was entirely different. She regarded some of those, especially former Inspector Tom Kennedy, as very good friends of hers.
When Catherine and Tom Nevin first took possession of Jack White’s Inn, relations between them and the local Gardaí could not have been better. It was known as a ‘Garda house’ – at least until Catherine threw a cat among the pigeons with her complaints. This was the situation I knew awaited me on 19 March 1996. Adding to Catherine’s distrust of the local Gardaí was her distrust of myself. She had unsuccessfully tried to get me on side with drink and meals (not to mention gifts of shellfish), but all to no avail.
There was a noticeable Garda presence and an ambulance outside Jack White’s pub when I arrived. Gardaí Martin McAndrew and Paul Cummiskey, who were the first Gardaí to arrive at the scene, met me on arrival. A quick look at the front exterior of the premises didn’t reveal any noticeable signs of a forced entry. I noticed that the front hall door was slightly ajar, and was informed by Garda McAndrew that it was in the same position then as when they had arrived at the scene. Perhaps entry, or indeed exit, by those responsible was via this door.
The sounds of a woman moaning were clearly audible. I entered and saw Catherine Nevin in a room just off the hall. Her attitude was certainly not what I had expected from a woman who had undergone an ordeal. First, she just stared at me with a contemptuous look. Aware of Catherine’s feelings towards me, there wasn’t any point in trying to engage her in conversation. I sympathised with her, and asked if I could be of any assistance. She continued to stare at me, and did not reply.
There was something surreal about Catherine’s behaviour, which had nothing to do with her obvious distrust of me. She was displaying no emotions or grief, and was certainly not in shock. Most strikingly, there was no visible indication that this was a woman who was shattered by the murder of her beloved husband. After some minutes, it was obvious that my presence was irritating rather than helping Catherine, so I left her in the company of Detective Joe Collins.
Another example of Catherine’s strange behaviour was her later request to be given a phone, as she wished to make an urgent phone call. She was not permitted to use any of the phones available on the premises until the technical examination had been completed. She shouted: ‘Get me a phone, get me a fucking phone, now, at once, do you understand?’ She was given a phone and made her call.
Gardaí McAndrews and Cummiskey described the scene when they arrived at 4.45 AM: Cummiskey noticed a light on in a window at the gable end of the pub – Catherine’s bedroom. A light was also on in the hallway. The front door leading into the hall was slightly open. The latch on this door was in the normal position, suggesting that if the door had been pulled, it would have closed.
Both Gardaí saw Catherine behind the hall door, sitting on the ground with her hands tied behind her back. She was wearing a purple-coloured silk nightshirt and white panties. In a low, barely audible voice, she said: ‘He came into the bedroom. He had a knife, and a hood over his head.’ Without any effort, McAndrew released a blue dressing-gown belt tied around Catherine’s wrists. Much more difficult to remove were coloured cloth headbands, also tied around her wrists. Cummiskey got a knife and cut the ties. He noticed red marks on her wrists when they were removed. There was also a nylon stocking hanging loosely around her neck, and this had been holding a pair of black panties that had been used as a gag.
Having made his way to Catherine’s bedroom, Cummiskey noticed that the main ceiling light was on. The phone on the bedside locker was off the hook and the receiver was on the ground. There was a glass containing what appeared to be spirits on the floor beside the bed. The bedroom was untidy, with items of clothing and books of varying descriptions scattered about. The room, according to the staff, always looked untidy. Outside on the landing was a black portable TV, resting against the banister.
At no stage when I was present did Catherine enquire from either Garda as to the whereabouts of Tom. This, I thought, was rather strange.
On entering the kitchen area, the Gardaí saw the body of Tom Nevin, lying on his back. It was then 4.50 AM and, having found no pulse, they presumed that Tom was dead – a fact later confirmed by Dr Nicholas Buggle of Arklow. They kept the scene intact for expert examination.
Anxious to elicit any useful information, Cummiskey resumed conversation with Catherine, and asked her if she could give a description of her attackers. She was adamant that there had been only one. Catherine told McAndrews: ‘The man that tied me up said “Where’s the jewellery?” several times.’
Having a clearer picture, I carried out a preliminary examination of the area, concentrating on the main building and outhouses. There was no evidence of a forced entry, as all windows and doors were intact. This was difficult for me to comprehend at that early stage. If there had been no forced entry, then the intruder (or intruders) would have to have been either concealed on the premises prior to the murder, or admitted by someone after the pub had been secured at closing time.
I visited the kitchen where Tom’s body was lying. Immediately of interest to me was the fact that Tom’s glasses were resting on his nose in the reading position, and a biro was clasped between the fingers of his right hand. He was lying on his back with his feet facing the door, and a stool was lying upturned beside his left leg. A pool of blood was visible under the body’s right side. He was wearing a dark blue jacket, dark grey slacks, and a multicoloured jumper.
On the counter close to where the body lay were cheques, receipt books and three metal tins from the floor safe. There was no evidence of a fight or struggle, and no signs of any disturbance or ransacking in or around the kitchen, bar or lounge – indeed anywhere in the entire ground-floor area. There were notes and coins – apparently untouched – in each of the three tills.
Catherine’s bedroom is a large room. The couple hadn’t slept in the same bedroom for years. The main centre light was on. Beside the bed, I saw a copy of the Sunday Independent. Prescription drugs in large quantities were noticeable on the bedside locker, and beside it was a half-full glass, containing what looked like wine. Opposite the entrance door was a chest of drawers. Three of the five drawers had been removed and were lying on the floor, with some of the contents disturbed.
Having entered Catherine’s bedroom – the only one the intruders had entered, it transpired – I was amazed at what I saw. Catherine had told the Gardaí on their arrival: ‘The robbers were looking for jewellery, and had threatened to kill her if they didn’t get it.’ If the intruders had attempted to give an impression that her room had been systematically and thoroughly searched, they failed miserably. The room was certainly untidy and unkept, but if the room had been gone over thoroughly by the intruders, it would have looked like a rubbish heap. I felt that if ever there was a contrived scene, this was it. There was a noticeable – perhaps too noticeable – presence of jewellery strewn around the landing, on the stairs, and in the lounge and bar. Also noticed in the lounge was a brown varnished jewellery box lying on the floor.
I kept asking myself: ‘Why commit murder in an intended act of robbery having as its objective jewellery, and then leave without it?’ There was no logic to it, other than the fact that the intruders were surprised – or, more likely, that Catherine did not want her jewellery taken in what she evidently hoped would be perceived as a botched robbery.
Detective Garda Joe Collins and Detective Garda Jim McCawl, of Arklow, were amongst the first Gardaí to arrive at the scene. They both spoke to Catherine on their arrival. Collins and Catherine, having previously enjoyed a good rapport, had a lengthy conversation. The brevity of the conversation between Catherine and Detective McCawl was due to the fact that if there was a member of An Garda Síochána that she disliked and distrusted more than me, it was McCawl.
They attempted to ascertain what had occurred earlier that morning. The interview lasted from 5.55 AM to 8 AM. Detective McCawl was present until 6.20 AM. Arising from this interview, the first taken and recorded in writing, were many interesting issues. To quote Catherine’s account of events from Joe Collins’s notes:
Did the cash and went to bed about 12.30 AM. Put pillow over head. One man with a knife. He’d something woolly on his head and face, was looking for jewellery. Someone shouted and I heard a noise like a saucepan falling.
There was another fellow throwing things around. He tied my hands and put something on my feet and mouth. Got feet loose and came downstairs and pressed panic button. Tom did lodgement. Busy weekend, the amount is in the books. Is the money taken. He kept saying where is the jewellery. I told him it was in the press. I don’t know if he took it all.
We have a gun. Tom has it hidden in the store, bought it from Tommy Godkin. I don’t know what time it happened. Tom’s mother is very old, I want to see him. Is he really dead? Two cars drove off. He told me he was going to kill me. More local accent, not Dublin accent.
Girls went to disco in bus.
Tied feet and hands with I don’t know what, it took only a couple of minutes, he just tied me up so quick. I didn’t see anybody except the fellow that tied me up. He woke me out of my sleep. I don’t know how long I was asleep when he woke me up.
I want to see Tom before I go to hospital. He’s not dead I know he’s not. I pressed panic button when I got my legs free; it’s at the front door.
The front door was open when I came downstairs, I tried to catch my nails in it to open it, but I couldn’t, it wasn’t fully open just barely.
Tom went to the bank on Friday. I went to Dr Pippet that day. Did you see him, did he suffer? Why did they do it if they got the money? I don’t know how much cash there was, I only did the day’s take.
None of the staff stay late on a Sunday night on bank holiday weekends, they don’t go out on a Sunday night, they go out on the Monday night instead and they don’t come back to stay.
The man in the bedroom had a knife; he said, “Where is the fucking jewellery?” He held my head down on the pillow, then I heard a loud noise like a big saucepan dropping. I let Dominic [Sergeant Dominic McElligott, Avoca] out, he was the last out. Tom drove Johnny Brennan home and the only other person left was Dominic McElligot.
I did tills last night, put money in the canisters and put them in the safe in the ground, the round one. I didn’t make up the lodgement. Tom always does that, he doesn’t like anybody else doing it. Tom did the lodgement last night in the kitchen.
I was tied up for a long time. My ankles were tied to my hands for a long time. I got the legs free. I got the receiver off the phone and tried to dial 999.
All my jewellery in case. Tom may have had some in the safe downstairs. I told the ones that the jewellery was in the press in the room. Someone shouted downstairs when I heard the loud bang like a saucepan falling.
Tom came back after a short time and Dominic left. I let him out. I went to bed when Dominic left. I was in bed by half twelve.
I hid our gun in the bedroom but Tom brought it downstairs as he thought it too dangerous. I have cartridges in my bedroom and Tom has some. It’s up in the rafters in the store. I am the licence holder.
Tom never has less than £500 in his wallet. He [the intruder] seemed big, aggressive; I thought he was going to kill me. He put something to my back; I just saw a blade, a small blade. He never looked for money. About £400 in my handbag, everything in the safe. Tom was followed on several occasions on returning from Dublin.
The significance and importance of the notes taken during this interview cannot be overstated. As the investigation progressed, many of Catherine’s utterances would come to be seen as bare-faced lies. When recounting events later to other people, she would contradict her version of events as given that morning.
Detective Collins and Detective Sergeant Fergus O’Brien, of Wicklow, returned to Jack White’s Inn later that day to take a written statement from Catherine Nevin. Her attitude to this reasonable request was amazing: ‘I gave you a statement today.’ Collins informed her that what he had taken earlier that day was notes regarding her account of events. What he now wanted was to get this in the form of a written statement. She replied: ‘I will make no statement or sign anything. It’s dangerous to sign statements, I know. I want a guarantee from a superior officer – and not from Superintendent Flynn, because I don’t trust him – that my statement won’t turn up on the desk in Arklow, to have it doctored, the same as the other statement. I don’t trust anybody in Arklow station – present company excluded.’
On the advice of her solicitor, she eventually relented, and made a statement on 20 March 1996. During this meeting, Collins showed her the jewellery box and the jewellery which had been found scattered around the premises the morning of the murder. She agreed that both the box and the jewellery were hers, and stated: ‘None of my jewellery was taken in the raid.’ Other interviews would follow; O’Brien and Collins were chosen to carry out these – and indeed all other contacts between Catherine and the Gardaí.
After the funeral of Tom Nevin, a large number of people returned to the pub. They were joined by O’Brien and Collins. At about 10 PM on that day, 21 March, Catherine told them that on the morning of the murder, after she had let Sergeant Dominic McElligott out the hall door, she pushed the door closed; it Yale-locked, and then she mortise-locked it by turning the Chubb key. She then hung the key on the wall beside the door. In her earlier statement, she had said: ‘The Sergeant had just pulled the door behind him and it Yale-locked.’ She had made no mention of mortise-locking it.
She also told the two detectives that when she was trying to release herself after the intruders had left her bedroom, she got an unusual smell, as though the place was on fire. This had the detectives puzzled. Later, they would realise that she had hoped that the smell would be accepted as that emanating after a gun had been fired. Unfortunately for her, expert evidence would prove that she could not have got such a smell coming from the kitchen in her bedroom. The only possible way she could have got this smell was if she had been in the kitchen prior to, during, or immediately after Tom had been shot.
On 23 March, she told the Gardaí that the amount of money stolen in the raid was £16,500, made up of:
| £4,500 | Payment from billboards (displayed on pub premises) | |
| £1,800 | Catherine’s personal cash | |
| £2,000 | Sterling | |
| £3,000 | Takings from Monday to Thursday, 11 to 14 March | |
| £500 | Takings for Friday, 15 March | |
| £1,700 | Takings for 16 March | |
| £1,500 | Takings for 17 March | |
| £1,500 | Takings for 18 March |
The interviews by Fergus O’Brien and Joe Collins with Catherine Nevin revealed numerous contradictions and lies in her story, and were instrumental in casting her in the role of a very credible and likely suspect.
As I left Jack White’s the morning of the murder, secure in the knowledge that there had been no interference with the scene, I could not dismiss the possibility that Catherine was a suspect. An interesting visitor to the pub that morning was former garda inspector Tom Kennedy. I had known him and, out of curiosity as to what he would say, spoke to him briefly about the murder. ‘Terrible affair, Pat,’ he said. ‘Just heard it on the news. That poor woman, what they have done to her, such a decent honourable woman.’ There was no mention of poor Tom, whose cold dead body lay just a few yards away.
On my arrival at Arklow Garda Station, an incident room was already in place. Next on the agenda was the selection of an investigation team, who would remain based at Arklow Garda Station. The investigation team includes those regarded as most efficient in investigating crimes. Invariably, the majority will be drawn from within the district where the crime was committed, with others coming from within the garda division. (Gorey is the garda district where the crime was committed, and Wexford/Wicklow is the garda division.)
The technical experts, such as Ballistics, Fingerprints, Mapping and Photography, are provided from Garda Headquarters on request by the officer in charge. Their presence is limited to examining the scene, reporting on their findings and giving evidence in court.
At 9 AM, members of the investigation team began to arrive at Arklow Garda Station. Detective Superintendent John McElligot, of Garda Headquarters, arrived; he would have a continuous presence throughout the investigation. He is acknowledged as one of the best in the force at coordinating and analysing the progress of serious-crime investigations.
Detective Bernie Hanley, of the Serious Crime Investigations Unit, was well known as an outstanding investigator and interrogator. He had been involved in practically every major crime investigation in the state for many years. Being of a rather quiet disposition and a friendly personality, he would be a pleasure to work with.
Liam Hogan, also of the Serious Crime Investigations Unit, held the rank of detective sergeant. (At this time, his unquestionable talents, and intelligence, in all aspects of police work had not been properly acknowledged. Gladly, this situation has to an extent been rectified, as he now holds the rank of superintendent.) Hogan’s expertise includes the examination of statements, documents and so on, and file preparation. He would take responsibility for the paper side of the investigation. His task was enormous, and essential to the final outcome of the investigation.
Liam would be ably assisted by Detective Aubrey Steedman. Every investigation team needs at least one personality such as Aubrey. His happy-go-lucky attitude is infectious, and of great help during an occasional hiccup or tense moment.
On the local front, Arklow would supply the bulk of the investigation team. These included Detective Gardaí Joe Collins, Jim McCawl and Tom Byrne, and Gardaí Paul Cummiskey, Liam O’Gorman, Martin Kavanagh, Martin McAndrew and Donal O’Leary. Sergeant Brian Duffy completed the Arklow contingent. Gorey was represented by Sergeant Joe O’Hara, Detective Gerry McKenna and Garda Joe O’Sullivan. Wexford Garda Station supplied Detective Pat Mulcahy and Wicklow Detective Sergeant Fergus O’Brien.
As I glanced around the table in the incident room at the assembled investigation team, I thought: if there is a possibility that this crime can be solved, then these are the men capable of doing it.