by John Mooney
Mulhall Snr, trying to be as honest as he could, said he had been called and told that Noor was dead. He hadn’t believed it, but then had a terrible sense of foreboding, which caused him to drive to the city.
He recounted how he had arrived at the flat expecting to find Noor badly beaten, perhaps injured, or at worst unconscious.
The detectives listened in astonishment as he explained what happened next. It was noteworthy that he was the only one present who was not under the influence of drugs.
He recalled how he had looked for Farah in the bedroom, and noticed nothing untoward. Then he spoke about the bin liner that contained the body parts. Mangan knew by his body language that he was telling the truth. The memory of the night was etched in his mind.
Satisfied he had told the truth, and lied in order to protect himself and his daughters, he was freed. Mangan, in turn, told him to take care. No one realised how distraught Mulhall Snr had grown since the killing; he was genuinely horrified over what had happened to Noor. The unspeakable act of dismemberment had shocked him to his core. No matter what way he looked at the situation, he could not comprehend what Linda and Charlotte had done.
It was no secret that he had encouraged them to confess. More than anything, he had wanted them to do the right thing. He was convinced that if they told the truth, the gardaí, perhaps even a jury, would understand the traumatic events that had unfolded. Mulhall Snr gave the impression that he was tormented by guilt and a growing depression.
The more he thought about their predicament, the more he realised they were themselves trapped in a living nightmare. The strain of living with this knowledge took its toll. Soon he found it too much to bear, and with the turmoil of this, three months after his 53rd birthday he tragically reached his limit and took his own life. He hanged himself in Phoenix Park.
His untimely death was perhaps the greatest tragedy that could have befallen Linda and Charlotte. He had been the breadwinner for the family, but also its rock; a man who held it together. He had, in many peoples’ opinion, reformed his life and conquered his own demons, only to be confronted by others.
He was buried in a ceremony which members of the detective unit attended.
Linda didn’t blame herself; she was not responsible. Heartbroken and at the end of her tether, she called Mangan in desperation; she was falling apart. That her father had committed suicide, although horrific, wasn’t at the forefront of her mind. In truth, she was now thinking about her own future and her family. That Christmas was an ordeal for the Mulhall family. In many ways it symbolised the unfolding tragedy of nightmarish proportions that was engulfing them. Linda would later try to articulate the utter despair that overcame her. She managed to hold her life together for her children but the façade was nothing more than a guise. Charlotte was also distraught. No amount of drugs and alcohol could make the pain and hurt go away. It was infectious.
*****
The funeral of John Mulhall was followed three months later by that of Noor’s. After every effort had been made to find his skull, the body was released for burial.
Teams of search dogs and gardaí had combed the hinterland around Killinarden Hill without any success. Eventually the search was wound down and the funeral arrangements made.
About 40 people gathered at Glasnevin Cemetery to take part in a Muslim ceremony to mark the violent life of Farah Swaleh Noor, or Sheilila Salim. No members of his family were in attendance; they were too poor to afford the flight, or pay the cost of repatriating his body to Kenya. In any event, it is preferred for a Muslim to be buried where he or she has died, and not be transported to another location or country.
Instead his remains were shrouded in preparation for burial as is custom, in a manner similar to how Muslims make ablutions for prayer. His body was then wrapped in sheets of white cloth, or the kafan.
He was then transported to the site of the funeral prayer, salat-l-janazah, which in the circumstances was Staffords Funeral Home. An Imam stood in front of the deceased, facing away from the worshippers, and said a few short words; the remainder of the funeral prayers were recited by the mourners in total silence.
He was next taken to the cemetery for burial. His former partner and mother of his son attended his burial, and said prayers for his soul. He was laid in the grave on his right side, facing Mecca.
It made a poignant scene. After he was laid to rest, his friends and other mourners filled in the grave by hand.
Mangan, Hickey and the others on the team stood in attendance to pay their respects. When the burial process had been completed, his friends took branches from nearby yew trees and placed them around the grave, along with large stones. To them, the stones and branches signified Allah and his mercy for the deceased.
Noor had come to Ireland with hopes of building a new life, but had not succeeded. Instead he had become a violent alcoholic who preyed on vulnerable women. This remained his legacy.
Chapter Nine
‘Fear follows crime, and is its punishment.’
- Voltaire
Instead of feeling hopeful about the chances of an acquittal, Linda Mulhall was terrified; more than anything she was fearful of losing her children. She was not one of those women who could put such fears to the back of her mind; instead she dwelled on them. The thought of losing her children consumed her in a way that only a mother can be affected by the loss of a child; she felt that no one understood.
Charlotte had been remanded in custody to Mountjoy Prison because she broke the conditions of her bail. She had stopped signing on at the nominated Garda Station. Linda had been given her freedom. It was during this time, in the weeks before the trial, that she descended into a deeper depression.
It should be noted that her mother, Kathleen, had since left Ireland. She had moved to Britain, where she had begun a new life in Birmingham; then she had vanished without trace.
Linda hadn’t broken the conditions of her bail, but there were times when she wanted to. Instead, she drank and took more drugs to escape from the life that offered her no peace and to ease the pain that swelled inside her heart.
Throughout her life, the only thing she had treasured were her children, whom she loved beyond question. Though she knew she would have to be separated from them at some point, she could not accept it. She simply wasn’t ready to go to prison.
Drugs and alcohol had always been her way of dealing with problems. She had always switched off when confronted by bad news. However, it now impacted on her forthcoming trial.
*****
By this time, the sisters had been given legal aid, and had eminent teams of barristers and solicitors appointed to represent them. Linda had retained Kevin Tunney, the solicitor whom Mangan had called on the morning of her arrest. He had subsequently appointed a legal executive from his firm to help prepare her defence. This was a high profile trial and Tunney was leaving nothing to chance.
His firm did everything to encourage Linda to help herself, but given the circumstances, this proved a difficult exercise.
In the weeks preceding the trial that had been due to start on 1 October in the Central Criminal Court before Justice Paul Carney, the legal team had slowly come to realise that Linda was seriously affected by drug taking. In fact, she was in the depths of utter despair.
The solicitor immediately contacted the two barristers they had hired to represent their client. These were Brendan Grehan, a senior counsel, and Kieran Kelly, a barrister, and informed them of the situation. Left with no other choice, they set about preparing the best defence they could in the circumstances.
Then disaster struck on the opening morning of the trial in Court No. 2, which lies off the round hall in the Four Courts complex.
On that morning, it was packed to capacity with journalists, gardaí, and curious onlookers.
Silence descended as Judge Carney entered
the courtroom at 11am precisely.
Although there are numerous judges in the High Court, Justice Paul Carney was without doubt the most high profile. A man with an undeniable work ethic, he had presided over most of the controversial trials to come before the courts. He was known as a straight talker who didn’t mince his words.
It was at this point that Judge Carney’s notice was drawn to Linda’s absence. She had vanished though Charlotte was present.
In the previous hours, Linda’s legal team and Mangan had attempted to call her. This had proven a fruitless exercise.
Moments later, Judge Carney was formally notified of her absence, forcing him to issue a bench warrant for her arrest. Mangan and the detective team were, once again, tasked with locating her.
The judge then adjourned the trial. It was the wish of all sides to have the two individual cases tried together. On leaving the court, Mangan went straight to a house in Tallaght where they knew Linda had been staying, but she wasn’t there. Every time someone dialled her phone, it continued to ring out. Nor did she respond to texts.
Left with no other choice, the team circulated a secret Garda bulletin giving her details and picture to gardaí on duty at the ports and airports. She was to be arrested on sight, the bulletin warned.
Later that day, Mangan received the news that an officer on duty in Dun Laoghaire had reported seeing a woman, fitting her description, take that morning’s departure to Wales.
This was a disastrous course of action for Linda to take. Mangan moved swiftly to arrange to have her intercepted, if indeed it was her.
Trying to work out the best possible thing to do, he tried to contact her once more. This time, he sent her a text, and requested a notification report that would categorically show whether she received the text or not.
Moments after he pressed send, his phone screen flickered, signalling the text had been delivered, which could only mean one thing: that she was still in Dublin.
After 24 hours of texts and calls, and after much persuasion by Mangan, Linda was convinced to give herself up. Eventually, she agreed.
Later that night, the team met her outside a house in Tallaght. She arrived looking destitute, with two of her children. She was in floods of tears. In fact, she was inconsolable and on the verge of a breakdown.
The youngsters were also distraught. One of them approached Mangan and asked him to look after his mother, before shaking the detective’s hand. Linda then held her boy, and with every ounce of strength she had in her body, told him that she loved him. There was nothing that any of those present could do or say to change the course of what had to happen.
Trying to compose herself, Linda took her belongings—which included some clothes and soft toys from her childhood—from the taxi she had arrived in, and handed these to the detectives. She hugged her children once more, kissed them and told them she loved them, and then let them go. The scene was one of utter tragedy and despair.
Those who know her say she no longer cared for herself at this stage. In the deepest grief, she sat into a patrol car and was taken to the Women’s Prison in Mountjoy in preparation for the next day.
When she appeared in court the following morning, Grehan made an application to have the trial date moved. Judge Carney listened attentively to the submission.
He watched for reaction from the prosecution, which was led by George Birmingham, a senior counsel, and Úna Ní Raifeartaigh, a second barrister on the team.
It should be noted that Charlotte’s legal team were also present. Her solicitor was John O’Doherty, a renowned practitioner of criminal law. Her senior counsel was Isobel Kennedy, who was working alongside Sean Gillane, a barrister.
Grehan set out the reasons for the application. Tunney had arranged for her to be examined by a forensic psychiatrist who practiced in Dublin; Dr Brian McCaffery.
The psychiatrist concluded, without any hesitation, that she was not fit to stand trial. She was on drugs and drinking large amounts of alcohol. He had informed Tunney of his opinion and was now in court to give evidence.
After some discussions, and considering the psychiatric evaluation furnished by Dr McCaffery, the team wanted to have her trial delayed, ideally for a month.
However, the judge ruled against him. A month was out of the question, but he did offer Linda a week.
It was noteworthy that he offered to allow both Linda and Charlotte take short breaks from the trial, if they required them; he then adjourned the trial once more.
When it resumed on 9 October—almost a year and a half after Noor had been brutally killed—a jury was empanelled. Though it would be another two days before the trial began hearing evidence.
*****
When the trial did eventually open, Linda stood alongside Charlotte. The two sisters denied the charge of murder and pleaded not guilty, despite their confessions. Linda looked worn out and tired.
The trial opened with the usual formality. Birmingham first outlined the facts of the case against the Mulhall sisters. Still trapped in the throes of a depression, Linda listened to the story that she was all too familiar with.
Birmingham spoke without any pomposity. He said it was the prosecution’s case that at a flat in Richmond Cottages, Noor was murdered by the two women.
‘Charlotte Mulhall had a knife and Linda Mulhall wielded a hammer with which she struck him a significant number of times, on or about the head.’
He continued: ‘Members of the Garda Sub-Aqua Unit retrieved parts of the body in the canal but what they retrieved did not constitute the body in its entirety, because missing was the head, and also missing was the deceased’s penis.’
The jury—comprising six men and six women —looked on as he explained how Noor had been in a relationship with their mother Kathleen, which the barrister described as ‘fraught’ and ‘stormy’.
After he outlined how Noor’s body had been discovered, Birmingham described how an examination of the body revealed 22 stab wounds and injuries to ‘pretty well all’ of the internal organs.
Birmingham didn’t overstate the facts of the case, or linger on any specific details; in many ways he didn’t need to. The details of the killing, which were written word for word by the assembled media, horrified those listening. There was absolute silence in the courtroom, such was the atmosphere.
He continued to address the jury, stating it was the prosecution’s argument that the body had been dismembered to make the identification more difficult. Birmingham, though, explained that his case largely rested on the confessions the Mulhall sisters had made. Both sisters, he said, had admitted their involvement in the killing and the disposal of the body.
In the dock, Linda and Charlotte looked on, bewildered and partly confused. Though Linda had the outward appearance of a terrified woman, Charlotte looked more relaxed; but this was an act. She too was terrified. She was a new mother. She had given birth to a baby boy six months earlier. She too longed to be with her child; the thought of separation was so much that she blocked it out, according to those who know her. Her outward appearance led many present to think she didn’t care; but this couldn’t have been further from the truth.
In closing his speech, Birmingham said: ‘It remains to this day that the head of Mr Noor has not been located.’
Everyone knew this was the case but the comment made an impact on everyone present; it was shocking because it was the truth.
*****
The trial progressed in a usual fashion the next morning. Birmingham began by calling witnesses to give less than contestable evidence. This evidence was standard, and concerned the details surrounding the discovery of the body.
Mohammed Ali Abu Bakaar, the man who had met Noor on the day he died, was among these witnesses. He explained to Birmingham that he had known the victim from the east-African coastline, where the two had worked on fis
hing boats. He recounted his last conversation with his old friend, and described how Noor was prone to heavy drinking.
He recalled, as best he could, how he told Noor to go home because he was drunk.
‘I call him to talk to him because I know after a few drinks, Farah, anything can happen to him. I always do that to people I know when I see them in that condition,’ he said.
While the two defendants had two separate legal teams, the barristers sometimes liaised. Grehan had paid careful attention to the evidence. When he rose to his feet, he asked Bakaar about Noor’s alcoholism.
It was no secret that both teams wanted to portray Noor as the violent thug he was. This could only help their case. Linda’s team particularly saw the benefit of this. They argued that Linda was not a murderer; but had reasonable grounds for provocation, which they hoped would lead to an acquittal, or a manslaughter charge. With this in mind, Grehan asked if he knew whether Noor’s personality changed dramatically when he drank alcohol.
‘I never lasted the whole night with him,’ was Bakaar’s answer.
*****
The first week of the trial had been calamitous for Linda and Charlotte. Though, as the days passed, they appeared to have accepted their fate and how best to handle the situation. Charlotte more than Linda settled into the routine, though sometimes her eyes wandered. She rarely looked at any of the witnesses, but sneaked glances at them when the opportunity presented itself. Linda, though, sometimes looked distant. She constantly thought of her children, and how they were faring, though she spoke to them everyday without fail. More than anything, this kept her going. She was also consoled by the fact that she knew that whatever verdict was reached, it would bring closure to this dark episode in her life. In some ways, amidst all the tragedy, this was comforting.
