Eyebrows had been raised concerning two acknowledged pillars of the community, Judge Donnacha O’Buachalla, the resident judge for court area number 23, and Tom Kennedy, a former garda inspector; they were, it had been suggested, regular visitors at the pub. Kennedy had been seen in bed with Catherine, and O’Buachalla was regarded by at least one member of staff as being Catherine’s boyfriend. At all times, including under oath in the Central Criminal Court, both Kennedy and O’Buachalla denied having a sexual relationship with Catherine.
The frequency with which the judge’s name was mentioned in the course of the investigation made it necessary to get a background history on him. Born on 28 March 1945, Judge O’Buachalla is a married man with adult children. The son of a former assistant secretary to the Department of Justice, he worked as a solicitor for the firm Porter Morris in Dublin, having qualified in 1968. He was declared bankrupt in the 1970s and as such his certificate to practice was automatically suspended in 1973, until he discharged the bankruptcy in 1978. His financial investments were the cause of his problems. He was appointed to the Judiciary by the Charlie Haughey-led government in 1989, when Gerry Collins was Minister for Justice. In 1993, he was appointed to District Court number 23, which takes in all of County Wexford, much of County Wicklow and Tullow, County Carlow.
I met Judge O’Buachalla for the first time in 1993, at a District Court sitting in Gorey, where he was the presiding judge. It was not long before we shared a couple of pints after conclusion of the day’s business at Gorey District Court. The judge rarely if ever rose for lunch, and as a result the court would normally finish shortly after 1 PM. On the first such occasion, Liam Sexton, the District Court clerk, handed me a note from the judge: ‘Pat, will you join me in French’s for a pint?’ This was to become a fairly regular occurrence.
The judge could fairly be described as easy and pleasant company. In court, he was efficient, didn’t like time-wasting, and treated all who appeared before him with dignity and respect. He is an avid golfer, playing off a low handicap; he played at a number of golf courses in the area.
Golfers often went to Jack White’s Inn for a drink after playing a round locally. This provided a much-needed boost for business at the inn. Should there be excessive merriment or drinking, there was no need to chance driving, as the inn had the added bonus of bed-and-breakfast facilities. In fact, Tom or Catherine often ferried golfers between the local clubs and Jack White’s.
O’Buachalla’s appointment to the bench in 1989 was considered a surprise development by many. Many thought that because he had been declared bankrupt, he could not be considered for appointment to the judiciary. I tried to obtain the name of any other solicitor who had been declared bankrupt and was later elevated to the bench, but it appears that he is the only one. This in no way suggests that his elevation was incorrect; on the contrary, it was correct and lawful. Unusual perhaps, but not sinister or open to question.
The judge and Tom Kennedy developed a close friendship, and both were regular visitors at Jack White’s Inn. Tom Kennedy’s retirement function, or rather one of them, was held at Jack White’s in 1994. It was – surprise, surprise – organised by Catherine, and no effort was spared to ensure that the affection and high esteem in which Kennedy was held in the community was amply demonstrated by a sumptuous retirement party.
The local media were in attendance, as is usual at such functions. Catherine drew up the invitation list, which of course included many politicians, local dignitaries, and Tom’s colleagues, past and present. Taking pride of place, and chosen by Catherine to add that extra touch of class, was none other then the local judge. She was later to include amongst her many photographic heirlooms the photograph of his lordship, Tom Kennedy and invited guests at the retirement function. No doubt scant regard was paid to the liquor licensing laws on that particular night of revellery.
Since Tom and Catherine Nevin had taken over in 1986, the pub had gained a reputation for late-night drinking and unusual behaviour; it was generally seen as a place to be given a wide berth. One of the Arklow-based solicitors broached the subject of the judge’s visits to the pub, and the gossip circulating about them. I suggested that it was perhaps prudent that one of the local legal profession should inform him about the reputation the pub had gained. To my surprise, the solicitor told me that this had been done, and the judge had responded by telling him that his drinking haunts would be his choice.
Interviewing a judge in the course of a murder investigation is not a task any garda officer would relish. It is not a regular occurrence that a judge is interviewed during a murder investigation, and the media interest could be intense. A garda who was not known locally would do the interview, and Detective Superintendent John McElligot was chosen. The location was the Glenview Hotel, Wicklow. Judge O’Buachalla gave full co-operation and readily made a written, signed statement on 29 April 1996.
He said he had known Tom and Catherine Nevin for more than three years, having been introduced to them by Inspector Tom Kennedy. His relationship with Catherine and Tom was excellent. From time to time, he would rest in the living room, have a shower, let himself out the front door and drive home. He never stayed overnight and never had a key to any part of the premises.
He said that as time passed, he became aware from Tom and Catherine of their great apprehensions, and those of many members of the local community, in relation to certain local Gardaí. He knew that Tom was greatly troubled by the ongoing matters, and both he and his wife firmly believed that there had been serious garda harassment over the years and that it was futile to make complaints.
Some Gardaí had serious misgivings about bringing cases in front of the judge, and felt that they were not getting fair treatment from him. This unhappy situation came to a head at Arklow District Court in September 1995. Gardaí Whelan and Murphy were but two of the many Gardaí with summary cases listed in their own names that day. I was also present on behalf of the State. The court progressed as usual and Garda Murphy was called to give evidence. The court clerk was instructed by O’Buachalla to administer the oath. There was nothing unusual about that – but what followed most certainly was. On beginning to give evidence in each new case, O’Buachalla instructed the court clerk to administer the oath on each occasion. The same procedure was insisted on during Garda Vincent Whelan’s evidence. All other Gardaí were required to take the oath only once, regardless of the number of cases they had. There was a different procedure being applied to Gardaí Whelan and Murphy, which was both embarrassing and nauseating to me and most Gardaí present.
On conclusion of the court, Murphy and Whelan vented their confusion and outrage to me about the judge’s attitude. Some Gardaí suggested that they would never bring cases in front of O’Buachalla again. It was not an easy task to pacify the outraged Gardaí. To a layperson, this may seem a matter of little importance, but to the members of An Garda Síochána present in court that day, it was an uncalled-for deviation from normal practice. All the Gardaí present in court knew that Catherine Nevin had made serious allegations against Murphy and Whelan. They also knew that O’Buachalla was a regular caller to the pub and, on his own admission, enjoyed an excellent relationship with both Tom and Catherine.
I felt that what Judge O’Buachalla did, though unusual, was neither illegal nor a breach of the District Court Rules of 1948. My strict instructions to my staff were: ‘Do your job as you have always done; prosecute detections deserving of a court hearing, give your evidence; mission accomplished.’ Thankfully, my instructions were heeded.
Increasingly, the national media was taking great interest in Judge O’Buachalla and the gossip circulating about his visits to Jack White’s Inn. Catherine’s boasts about her ever-increasing friendship with him added greatly to the intrigue. Relations between O’Buachalla and myself took a serious nosedive, and I no longer felt at ease in the judge’s company, and certainly not if I was prosecuting when he was presiding.
Our professional and private friendship completely disintegrated around the time I took professional exception to the manner in which he granted the licence for Jack White’s Inn on 29 September 1997. I reported what I have always argued, and still maintain, was an incorrect procedure, which I will describe later. Suffice it to say that there were no further invitations to French’s pub for pints after conclusion of business at Gorey court. Relations between us were at an all-time low and would remain so until I retired from An Garda Síochána in January 2004. Despite this, I was always impressed with the respect and kindness the judge displayed towards suspects who appeared in front of him.