John Mulhall was questioned in his house in September 2005 about the Leixlip dumping and admitted that he had thrown bags into the river. He told Sgt Liam Hickey that he did casual work for his boss Harry Byrne at his Castle Park house. He’d often cut the grass, trim the hedges and do general maintenance at the house. He said he’d been cutting the grass and watering the plants in Harry’s garden. He admitted he had brought a green wheelie bin, with the number thirty-one on the side, from his house in Tallaght, with him. There was normal domestic rubbish at the end of the bin but his son Andrew had partially filled the top of it with gravel. John claimed he had been tipping the bin over the riverbank, to put some hedge cuttings in it, when he’d lost his balance and let it drop into the water. It had floated downstream, too far away from where he was standing, and he couldn’t recover it. He added that there was an old duvet cover from his house, which had been left out in the rain, and that this was also in the bin. Four separate strips of carpet, about 4 feet by 2 feet long, in a black plastic bag, John said were also probably in the bin. John denied that anything that had ended up in the river came from the murder scene in Ballybough.
Gardaí were never able to definitively link what was found in the river to material taken from 17 Richmond Cottages but there is no doubt, in the investigators’ minds, that these items came from the flat. One senior detective estimated that gardaí only know about 70 per cent of what really happened on the night of Farah Noor’s murder. It is possible that half a dozen knifes were used to kill him but were disposed of elsewhere.
With the help of pressure from John Mulhall, Linda finally rang Detective Inspector Christy Mangan on 19 August and told him that she wanted to meet. She did this because John had wanted her to tell the truth and face up to the consequences of her actions. Linda had confided in her dad over the previous few months and he knew that she wanted to clear her conscience, but the pressure Kathleen and Charlotte put on her to say nothing was making it difficult for her. The pair had discussed the horror of the events at 17 Richmond Cottages in detail and John knew exactly what had happened, even if he wasn’t telling the gardaí. When he had met DI Mangan and Sgt Hickey on 17 August Linda had failed to keep the appointment. During the following forty-eight hours, John put a lot of pressure on Linda to meet with the detectives.
That evening it was John who answered the door to the two gardaí and brought them to Linda’s room in the extension at the back of the house. After she had opened her heart, confessed and agreed to drive with the two officers to the crime scenes, John was there waiting at the door to hug his tearful daughter and tell her that everything would be OK. He was waiting at the door of the house again, hours later, when the unmarked garda car pulled up with Linda inside, and he shook the two gardaí’s hands.
During the first few difficult weeks after she had come forward to try to atone for what she had done, John looked after Linda. He took an unfailing interest in the case. For example, in one instance after the gardaí had spent a full day searching for the head at Killinarden Hill, he asked Sgt Liam Hickey, ‘Have you found it?’ He urged the Sergeant to keep searching the field, because, he said, ‘I’m 100 per cent accurate that’s where it is.’
John Mulhall continued to have regular contact with the police. He was interviewed again on 10 November at Kilmainham Garda Station by DI Christy Mangan and Sgt Liam Hickey. He admitted that he called to the murder scene at around 1 a.m. and stayed there a couple of minutes, but he said that he had left in disgust and gone back home to Tallaght. He swore that he wasn’t in Richmond Cottages the morning after the murder but conceded that he did remove Kathleen’s TV, video, CD player and dishes later on. He said that ‘to my knowledge’ these didn’t end up in the Liffey at Harry Byrne’s house.
After Linda and Charlotte were charged with Noor’s murder, it was John Mulhall who picked up the pieces and took over looking after Linda’s four children. He tried to give them as normal a life as possible during the very traumatic period in their young lives. When his two daughters were brought before the courts it was a very awkward time for John and his other kids. Friends and neighbours were constantly asking them about what had happened and the case was the talk of Jobstown. Linda’s children also had to put up with the stigma of having a murderer for a mum. From August onwards, everyone was under a lot of pressure, especially John, who started to withdraw into himself, struggling to comprehend the events that had led up to his family being ripped apart.
John Mulhall was working with his brother Eric on the Castle Park Construction site in Cork Street in the south inner-city. The two men had worked for City Glass for nearly sixteen years and were very close. They were happy when they were given the same jobs because they could catch up and spend some time together. It was Thursday, 8 December 2005, three months since Linda had been charged with Farah Swaleh Noor’s murder and nearly seven weeks after Charlotte had been charged. John had been depressed and in bad form at times since Linda and Charlotte had admitted killing Noor. Those close to him understood. He was devoted to his family and blamed himself for what had happened. He had urged Linda to confess as he knew that ringing Detective Inspector Christy Mangan was the right thing to do. She probably would have said nothing but for that and now his two girls were facing the prospect of life behind bars. This ate him up inside. He also couldn’t live with the guilt of knowing that they had killed a man.
John and Eric finished work at about 5 p.m. that night and John drove his van back to Tallaght, while thirty-two-year-old Eric went to his house in Kimmage.
Marie Mulhall rang Eric at about 7 p.m. that night and asked him to go with her to the vet on the Old Kilmainham Road because her dog was sick. John drove Marie and the dog there and Eric met them outside. When the vet had treated the dog and given it a clean bill of health, the three decided to go for a drink. They headed to Ryan’s pub on James’s Street and had a few pints together. John was in great form. He met a couple of old friends he hadn’t seen in years and was laughing and joking with them. It was as though he’d finally managed to put the hell of the last few months firmly behind him.
The group left the pub at about 10 p.m. and John and his daughter drove to the Texas Fried Chicken takeaway in Crumlin. Eric followed behind them in his car. They were all hungry, as they hadn’t had dinner, and they bought some food to take back to Tallaght. John also bought snack boxes for Linda and his four grandkids and they all went back to Kilclare Gardens to have a meal.
When they arrived, Linda was there with her kids but she was very drunk. She had obviously spent the evening drinking vodka and was in a shocking mood. It was obvious that she was going to take it out on somebody. Sure enough she turned on John and started laying into her father: ‘It’s your fucking fault that we’re in the trouble we’re in. You’ve never fucking done anything for us.’ As she shouted at her father, they all looked on in shock. John was used to such displays from his wayward daughter and knew that it wasn’t wise to respond. Instead he put his arm on her shoulder and tried to calm her down but she just got worse and started calling him every name under the sun. She stormed from room to room, turning the place upside down, saying that Charlotte had stolen her Christmas money for the kids. Christmas was less than three weeks away and she said that she’d planned to go down to the Square to get Santa presents. Her dad told her to calm down and promised he’d get the money back from Charlotte. Linda said it must have been Charlotte who had taken the money because she was the only one who knew where it was hidden.
Eric and Marie had gone upstairs during the fight but they could still hear all the screaming. Linda eventually relaxed a bit and seemed happy enough that she’d get her cash back. ‘I only want to get Christmas toys for the kids, Da,’ she said.
‘I know you do, love. You’ll get your toys; don’t worry,’ he told her and she went outside to the garden extension to have a rest and calm down.
John sat in the front room for a few minutes and then he walked upstairs to his bedroom. Eric wen
t out to the landing and asked him if everything was okay. John said he was going to go out and find Charlotte and get Linda’s money back. Eric asked if he wanted a lift but John refused and said he wanted to go by himself. He took the keys for the van and went out the door with a vacant look in his eyes.
Eric decided to stay in Tallaght that night to make sure that things were all right and no more trouble kicked off. When he woke up the next morning, he went to wake up John but his bed was empty. His heart sank. It wasn’t like his brother to not come home. He was a devoted family man who was always up early to go to work and get Linda’s kids off to school. Eric immediately felt that something wasn’t right but hoped that his brother had found Charlotte and stayed with her. He thought John might be trying to talk some sense into her about stealing money from the family.
When John hadn’t turned up after a few hours, Eric rang Tallaght and Rathfarnham Garda Stations to see if his brother had been arrested but they had no record of coming across John Mulhall at all. Eric also contacted the Mater and St Vincent’s hospitals in case his brother had had an accident in the van and had been brought there by ambulance, but they had no information either. In the end Eric drove to work with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He spoke to Marie a few times during the day but John still hadn’t come home or made contact with anyone.
After work Eric went back to Kilclare Gardens but there was still no sign of his missing brother. He finally drove up to Tallaght Garda Station and officially reported his older brother missing. When a plainclothes detective knocked on the door later that night, Eric knew that he’d never see his brother again.
The row with Linda had been the last straw for John. All he wanted to do was look after his family and he’d failed. His two daughters were facing a murder trial after admitting they had killed and cut up their mam’s boyfriend; two of his three sons were in prison for serious crimes. What had he done wrong? He drove the van around Tallaght looking for Charlotte but didn’t have a clue where she might be. They’d hardly seen her since the charge and it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. As he drove aimlessly around the city, he thought about his life. He had been wild in his younger days and got in trouble with the law but he had tried to steer his children onto the right path. What hope did they have though? His own wife had up and left him for a refugee after twenty-nine years of marriage. He was hopeless, worthless and had let everyone he knew and loved down. The thoughts went round and round in his head until he had finally made up his mind.
John Mulhall steered the Berlingo van in the direction of the Phoenix Park. He was familiar with most areas of Dublin and had played there as a lad. He knew where he would be able to find a good spot to do what he was about to do. He drove through the park gate at St James’s Gate and went up to the first roundabout and turned left. He would have ended up at Garda Headquarters if he’d taken the right-hand turn. He got onto Wellington Road and could see the imposing presence of the Wellington Monument, through the van’s spotlights. He parked the van at the side of the road and turned off the ignition.
He got out and walked to the back of the small white van and opened up the rear door. After he left Kilclare Gardens, through the front door, John had climbed into the back garden and taken the rope from the washing line down. He rooted around among his tools and found the rope that he’d thrown in the back. The street lights did not do a great job at illuminating the area and John must have struggled to make anything out as he walked towards the forest, opposite the monument.
John Mulhall must have been wishing to God that things could have turned out differently. But he knew that he couldn’t turn back time. He might have wished that he had done something twenty years ago when the kids were smaller and possibly that he had treated Kathleen differently. Maybe he was thinking that he should have looked after her and made more of an effort to be around the house, staying away from other women and being a better person. The demons had taken over John Mulhall’s mind – the same demons that had made Linda’s life hell after she murdered Farah Noor. Once the mist descends it is difficult to raise it and John Mulhall was doomed.
The fifty-three-year-old father-of-six took the rope and threw it over the thickest branch of a nearby oak tree.
He then took out his wallet from his pocket and got a €50 note. Using a pen, he wrote a short suicide note, leaving all his possessions to Marie. He put the note back in his pocket. He then scaled the tree and skilfully tied a double-knot that would easily carry the weight of a man, even one as stocky as he was. He put the end of the rope around his neck. His family believe he would have blessed himself. Then he jumped. It was all over in seconds.
The following morning, just before 11 a.m., a thirty-six-year-old local woman was out enjoying a morning stroll when she saw what looked to be somebody lying asleep under a tree, just inside a wooded area beside the memorial to Wellington. She went over for a closer look and was horrified to see a middle-aged man with a rope around his neck. It looked like the rope had snapped and broken a branch above. She knew instantly that the poor unfortunate man was dead and dialled 999 on her mobile.
Garda James Buckley from Cabra Station arrived at the scene and an investigation was immediately launched. Senior officers from the station, Detective Inspector John Kelly and Sergeant Paul McCarville, took charge. Photographs were taken of the scene in case foul play was suspected but it was obvious that the victim had taken his own life. The deceased’s wallet was in his trouser pocket and he was identified as John Mulhall from Tallaght.
A doctor pronounced John Mulhall dead at 3.25 p.m. and his body was taken by Stafford’s Undertakers to the City Morgue.
John’s estranged wife, Kathleen, was due to celebrate her fiftieth birthday two days after his death.
At around 7 p.m. Detective Garda John Stack was knocking on the Mulhalls’ door, with the news that all gardaí dread giving families. It is never a pleasant experience informing anybody that their loved one has been prematurely taken away, but at least it is easier to understand if somebody has been killed in an accident or dies suddenly from a medical condition. That is fate. How can you explain that somebody has willingly taken their own life and left a loving and heartbroken family behind, looking for explanations and wondering if they could have done anything differently to prevent it? Garda John Stack broke the news to Eric, who had been dreading that something like this might have happened ever since John had failed to come home. He rang his brother Andy and sister, Eileen, telling them that John was dead.
To say that things were tense in the Mulhall house after John’s suicide was an understatement. John’s funeral in his native Tallaght was a big event, attended by his many friends and work colleagues. Members of the Clondalkin Motorbike Club, of which John was an old and dedicated member, formed a guard of honour in memory of his passing. Sergeant Liam Hickey and Detective Inspector Christy Mangan also attended and members of the extended Mulhall family came up to thank them for how they had treated John, Linda and Charlotte while they were in custody. Linda was very upset and cried when she saw the two officers and thanked them for coming. It was a very difficult time for his children who were obviously stuck in the blame game. If Linda hadn’t attacked him that night would their father have still taken his own life? Nobody will ever be able to answer that question but the tension between some of his children was clear. Marie and Andrew Mulhall took their father’s death especially hard. At the ages of twenty-one and seventeen, they now had to face a life effectively without any parents. His other four children also took the loss of their father badly. The Mulhalls were a dysfunctional family but they were close and loved each other, through thick and thin.
While there is no doubt that John Mulhall was the foundation on which the Mulhall family was built, his role in the murder of Farah Swaleh Noor has never been satisfactorily explained. Some detectives privately say that he played a far bigger part in events than has been acknowledged. Linda, Charlotte and Kathleen Mulhall have always ref
used to acknowledge that John Mulhall was at Richmond Cottages on the night of the murder, even though John himself volunteered that information.
During the trial of Linda and Charlotte it did not emerge that traffic cameras in Ballybough had captured a white Berlingo van heading for Ballybough Bridge at 6.14 a.m. on 21 March, the morning after the murder occurred. The registration plates were not captured but when John Mulhall was asked about this incident, he admitted to gardaí that this was his van, although he was confused about dates. He said that he had dropped his daughters to their mother’s flat on the morning of the murder, 20 March. None of the three women ever told gardaí this and John’s story does not make sense.
There are two possibilities about what could have occurred at Richmond Cottages. The first possibility is that John Mulhall got the call from Kathleen, as he later admitted, and went to her flat at 1 a.m. but went home in disgust after he found out about the murder. When he got back to Tallaght he couldn’t sleep and finally decided that he had to help his daughters and drove back to Ballybough at around 6 a.m. and picked up the bloody clothes and duvets so they could be dumped later on. John had always claimed that this never happened but forensics linked the items pulled from the River Liffey to Richmond Cottages, so he certainly did remove evidence at some stage that day. There is also evidence that he then rang Kathleen briefly, at 7.15 a.m., as he was driving home with the bags to Tallaght. Many gardaí believe that this is the most credible scenario.
The Irish Scissor Sisters Page 26
