Gardai have reopened the case into the death of Fr Niall Molloy in 1985, but why has it taken so long, asks Maeve Sheehan
LAST
week, a team of 10 detectives descended on the Offaly town of Clara
hot in pursuit of fresh leads in the unsolved murder of a parish priest
almost 30 years ago.
The priest was Fr Niall Molloy and his murder
was a sensation during Ireland's GUBU years -- a time when the garda
heavy gang roamed the street, the Catholic Church held sway and scandal
was readily suppressed.
Fr Molloy's death was indeed a scandal. He
died violently in the bedroom of his close friends, Richard and Teresa
Flynn, on a summer's night in July 1985 in the midst of their daughter's
wedding celebrations.
Nobody was ever convicted of his killing.
Richard Flynn stood trial for manslaughter and assault but was found not
guilty on the directions of the judge, who, it later transpired, was an
acquaintance of the Flynns.
His death has remained a mystery for
years. Allegations of a cover-up lingered but never seemed to come to
anything. Fr Molloy's relatives campaigned for justice. Decades passed
with seemingly little progress. For many years it seemed that silence
had settled over the scandal.
So, when Detective Superintendent Christy Mangan and his "cold case" team at the Garda
National Bureau of Criminal Investigations parked in Tullamore to
examine new evidence, Fr Molloy's relatives would be forgiven for
asking: what took so long?
The lines being pursued by detectives
are not flimsy. Detectives are hoping to speak to new witnesses with
potentially crucial information about the unsolved crime.
But, in a
story already embedded with claims of a cover-up, one of the most
shocking aspects of last week's developments was that they came about
not as a result of the Gardai's efforts; they were due to the tenacity of a journalist with the Irish Independent, who was drawn to the story after a chance encounter two years ago and has doggedly pursued it ever since.
Over
the past two years, Gemma O'Doherty has travelled the breadth of the
country, knocking on doors, persuading people who had never spoken
before to talk, hearing for the first time their long-held secrets about
the priest's death.
Some people closed their doors to her. Others
welcomed her in, eager to share what they knew. Astonishingly, many of
them had never been spoken to by a garda.
Gemma could not publish
most of what she was told because of legal constraints.
But their
accounts of what happened on the night of the priest's death and its
aftermath were so compelling that she went beyond the call of
journalistic duty to present a dossier of her findings to gardai.
She
has given gardai the names of "about 50 individuals" she believes can
help them. They include new sources whom she met during the summer. She
introduced them to gardai, to whom they have given valuable statements.
Their information, facilitated by Gemma, triggered the full-scale
reinvestigation of the case last week.
To Gemma, a veteran
award-winning journalist, the case of Fr Molloy is more than just a
story. "From early on, it became clear to me this case was far from just
an intriguing murder mystery. That is the reason I have not -- and will
not -- let it go," she said.
"Members of six pillars of Irish
society had questions to answer about their case. They belong to the
Gardai, the judiciary and legal world, the political elite, primarily Fianna Fail,
the Catholic Church, the medical fraternity and my own profession, the
media. To this day, I am stunned at how some journalists turned their
backs on such glaring inconsistencies at the time."
When Gemma
started looking into the story, the facts that were already in the
public domain came largely from the trial of Richard Flynn and the
subsequent inquest. Some of the facts were perplexing, not least the
relationship between Fr Molloy, a 52-year-old parish priest in
Castlecoote, Co Roscommon, and the Flynns, who lived in Kilcoursey House
on 60 acres in Clara.
Fr Molloy was a long-standing friend of
Teresa and Richard Flynn, but he was closer to Teresa than to her
husband. They had been friends since childhood and shared an interest in
horses. The Flynns were well connected, part of the horsey set and with
political friends too. Brian Lenihan Snr was a guest at the wedding party and, the next day, ate lunch with the wedding party -- hours before Fr Molloy's death.
For
his part, Fr Molloy was a successful breeder of showjumpers. He and
Teresa shared a bank account for buying and selling horses. He often
stayed overnight at the house, where he had his own room.
On the July day he died, Fr Molloy was a guest at Kilcoursey for a wedding lunch for the in-laws of the Flynns' eldest daughter.
At
about 1am, Fr James Deignan, the local parish priest, was called to
Kilcoursey House.
After 3am, Fr Deignan called on the local sergeant. He
said: "There's a priest dead in the bedroom," he told him. It was a
scandal and would have to be kept quiet.
The sergeant disagreed and went straight to the house.
Fr
Molloy was dead, his body on the floor of the Flynns' bedroom. Blood
seeped from his head. A streak of blood on the carpet suggested that the
priest's body had been dragged towards the door at some stage. Teresa
Flynn was hysterical and had to be sedated. The priest's watch was
smashed, the hands stopped at 10.40pm -- almost five hours earlier.
Richard Flynn said they had an argument over drink and he struck Fr
Molloy in self-defence.
The story of the priest's murder caused a
sensation. The Flynns went to France for a while.
Soon after they
returned, Richard Flynn was charged with manslaughter.
He went on
trial before Mr Justice Frank Roe in June 1986, who was himself well
known in horsey circles. He heard evidence from the State pathologist
about Fr Molloy's head injuries and swelling to his brain. The priest
had been struck five to six times.
Almost four hours into the
trial, Mr Justice Roe told the jury to return verdicts of not guilty,
acceding to defence claims that heart failure could not be ruled out as a
cause of death.
The inquest into Fr Molloy's death took place
after the trial. It found that Fr Molloy died of head injuries -- not of
a heart attack. In a further twist, it later transpired that Mr Justice
Roe knew the Flynns.
Fr Molloy's family's campaign for justice
for the priest ebbed and flowed over the years with little success. That
changed in the summer of 2010 when Gemma O'Doherty had a chance
encounter with an individual who, it would appear, became her "deep
throat" -- someone who felt that justice had not been done for Fr
Molloy.
"Information given shortly afterwards by that person sent
me on a long journey, but early on, it became clear that many people had
something to hide. Mere mention of Fr Niall's name led to doors being
slammed in my face and voices going dead at the end of the phone.
"It
became clear that some of these individuals had never been properly
interviewed by gardai at the time," she said. In Roscommon, she got a
"very different welcome".
"In his tiny parish of Castlecoote,
people spoke so fondly of Niall and said he was a brilliant, caring
parish priest who had got involved in a very dangerous situation. He
wanted out of it. His parishioners knew nothing close to the truth had
come out," she said. "As I continued my probe, that became very obvious
to me too."
The more she knocked on doors, the more she learnt,
often taking off around the country from her home at night at a
moment's notice to verify new pieces of information.
"Every time I
got a new piece of the jigsaw, it slotted right in," she said. "By now,
I had built up a team of contacts around the country -- this story has
tentacles that stretch down the entire spine of the island, from Sligo
to Galway, Westmeath and Longford, and down as far as Kilkenny -- a city
which plays a leading role in the case. These individuals know who they
are and when justice is finally served and the truth comes out, it will
be thanks to them."
Gemma published her first major article on
the Fr Molloy case in October 2010. Only a fraction of the information
she had gathered appeared in print. But she believed she had enough
information to warrant a thorough reinvestigation of the case by gardai.
She wrote to the then Garda Commissioner, Fachtna Murphy, met with his spokesman in Phoenix Park and gave the contents of her file to Detective Superintendent Christy Mangan.
She
insisted on making a formal statement at Harcourt Terrace Garda
Station, which took over four hours, and gave gardai the names of "about
50 individuals who have questions to answer and information to give".
She also met with Alan Shatter and Pat Rabbitte,
now senior ministers in the Government, who promised a public inquiry
when in government. Under pressure from Gemma and Fr Molloy's relatives,
the Garda Commissioner set up an "examination" of the issues raised by
Gemma's investigation. But nothing much seemed to emerge from their
review.
The breakthrough came in recent months. "In the summer, I
met new sources who were much closer to the murder than anyone I had met
before. I introduced them to Christy Mangan and they have recently made
valuable statements, which we hope will lead to convictions. I am not
sure why the Gardai did not find these individuals during their
'examination'."
Given all she has unearthed, Gemma has established
a compelling picture of what happened to Fr Molloy on the night he
died. She revealed limited details last week in her articles in the
'Irish Independent'.
Fr Molloy was involved in a business deal
with the Flynns and he wanted out of it. He consulted his solicitor
about getting his money back, in what was described as an "anxious"
visit. In the days before he died, the priest had a black eye. He named
the perpetrator to his cousin.
Gemma O'Doherty learnt that the
same individual had assaulted the priest, pushing him against a coffee
table days before the murder. The perpetrator is still at large.
In another twist, some of Fr Molloy's valuables went missing after he died, including a horse and several paintings.
It
is rare for a journalist to achieve what Gemma has: delivering fresh
witnesses with key information to a garda investigation that had long
ago ran cold. Gemma does not want to "become" the story. She turned the
attention instead on another great journalist, the late Veronica Guerin, who was murdered by drug lords in 1996.
Veronica's
experiences working on the Fr Molloy story before she died have
confirmed to Gemma her own conviction that the case is a bigger story of
State failures and complicity of well-connected people.
"At the
time she was writing about it, Veronica told the Molloy family that two
of her sources in Phoenix Park warned her away from the case and that
she was 'walking on thin ice'," said Gemma.
"Veronica was shown
the Molloy police file by her underworld source, John Traynor. He came
to have it after it was stolen by his associate, Martin Cahill, from the DPP's office in 1987.
"The
file contained handwritten letters from the trial judge Frank Roe to
the then DPP Eamonn Barnes saying he knew the parties in the case. Two
of the judge's former colleagues have confirmed this to be the case, and
say Frank Roe, a keen horseman, knew the Flynns and Fr Molloy through
fox-hunting circles.
"The week before Veronica was due to publish
one of her stories on the case, the Sunday Independent flagged it. Days
later, she received the first threat on her life when shots were fired
through the window of her home," said Gemma.
"It's ironic that in
the week Malcolm MacArthur was released, people have said to me this is
like GUBU Part 2. To me, this case is in another league to the original
GUBU and I think if Charlie Haughey were alive today he would agree with
me."