The increased number of armed Gardaí on the streets was beginning to make a difference – for a while at least – and there was a noticeable drop in the number of heists the following year. The number of serious criminals being brought before the courts also began to increase, as the Force adopted a more co-ordinated approach to tackling serious crime and learned some lessons from the mistakes of the past. There was now a realization that identification evidence and so-called ‘verbals’ – admissions made during interrogation – were not enough to sustain convictions in the courts. From the late 1970s, the Gardaí had also begun to rely more heavily on forensic science, as it often provided irrefutable proof against the gun gangs. The turn-around came in 1978, with the appointment of Dr James Donovan as Director of the Forensic Science Laboratory at Garda HQ, Phoenix Park. The deeply committed scientist spear-headed the advancement and modernization of forensic science in Ireland and used it as a vital weapon in the war against terrorists and criminals.
By the early 1980s, the State’s Forensic Science Laboratory was a vital component of every major criminal investigation in the country. The scientist was the prosecution’s key technical witness in several successful high-profile trials, including the IRA bombing of Lord Louis Mountbatten in 1979 and the murder of the three Gardaí in 1980. Dr Donovan was also a crucial witness in several trials involving the criminal gangs. What he found under the lens of his microscope was often more hazardous to a gangster or a terrorist than the business end of a cop’s .38 revolver. The mobs had a new enemy and, inevitably, Dr Donovan began to draw unwanted attention.
10. The Jewellery Job
On the morning of 6 January 1982, a powerful bomb suddenly exploded under a car driving onto the Naas dual carriageway at Newland’s Cross, West Dublin. The force of the blast ripped the vehicle apart, lifting it off the road. The wreckage landed in a crumpled heap, several yards away. Shocked motorists ran to see if there were any survivors. Despite being critically injured, Dr James Donovan managed to stumble from the debris and collapsed at the side of the road. Somehow he’d survived the bomb that had clearly been meant to kill him. Before the dust from the explosion had settled the motive was clear – someone didn’t want Dr Donovan to appear in the witness box.
The forensic scientist was rushed to hospital where surgeons worked for several hours to save his left leg and foot, part of which was blown off in the explosion. He underwent several other operations but never fully recovered from his appalling injuries. Almost thirty years later he is still forced to live on a daily cocktail of powerful painkillers. The courageous civil servant’s legacy for excelling at his job was a lifetime of agony.
Dr Donovan still vividly recalls the incident. ‘I was driving my car that morning when suddenly, as I looked through the windscreen, it disappeared into blackness. There was a cloud of dust with a tongue of red flame in the middle of it and after what seemed like a long time, I heard a loud noise. I put my hand down to my left side and felt a mixture of blood, gunge and broken bones. Since then the pain in my legs and hands and other places has gone on and on and on. The left foot gets infections and it just decides to bleed. It has to be dressed twice a day. I always thought I could put a square around it [the bomb] and forget but I cannot forget it … ever.’
The attempt to murder Dr James Donovan still stands out as one of the single worst acts of terrorism committed by organized crime gangs over the past four decades. The ferocity of the attack shocked a country that was growing accustomed to acts of extreme violence. Never before had an employee of the State, who was not involved in the security forces, been targeted in such a way; a government spokesman described the attack as a ‘grave development and a serious departure from standard crimes’. It was a clear attempt to undermine the use of forensic science, at a time when it was becoming crucial to the investigation of serious crime. If scientists were too scared to do their jobs then the whole system could collapse.
Initially the finger of suspicion fell on the IRA and the INLA. Donovan’s evidence had succeeded in securing the conviction of one of the Provo’s top bomb-makers, Thomas McMahon, for the blast which killed Lord Mountbatten. His evidence had also been crucial in the Garda murder cases where members of both organizations had also been jailed for life. But, although they did not express any sympathy for what had happened, the two terror gangs issued curt statements of denial. The Provos declared: ‘The IRA has more to lose by carrying out such an act because of the anti-republican hysteria it would arouse.’ The INLA comment was even shorter: ‘It serves no useful purpose.’
Garda ballistics experts and Dr Donovan’s own staff later found evidence which seemed to corroborate the two denials. The device used was described in a Garda report as ‘crude and unpredictable’. It was not as sophisticated as the timer and remote-controlled devices being used by both groups. The bomb, which was made of gelignite and petrol, had been attached to the exhaust pipe and was detonated after a build-up of heat from the engine, after it had been running for a while.
The Garda investigation soon found another suspect – Martin Cahill. Intelligence and underworld informants revealed that the sadistic gangster wanted Dr Donovan murdered. The scientist was all that stood between Cahill and a 12-year stretch behind bars for armed robbery. The underworld ‘joker’ who considered crime a ‘game’ had finally revealed his sinister side. The Donovan assassination attempt was the first clear evidence that ignoring the developing crime problem was creating a monster and that the ordinary villains were every bit as dangerous as the terrorists.
When Martin Cahill was released from prison on 11 January 1980, he wasted no time rebuilding his old network. He took full advantage of a demoralized police force, dealing with the murders of their colleagues and the subversive threat. The steady stream of criminal activity spilling south of the Border from Northern Ireland became a torrent in the 1980s as the Provos stepped up their efforts to fund the ‘war’. As a consequence the General and his contemporaries thrived and prospered. On one job he joined forces with John Traynor, John Gilligan, George Mitchell and Paddy Shanahan for a warehouse burglary. Henry Dunne had introduced Shanahan to Cahill as a potential business partner. The crew robbed £100,000 worth of cigarettes from the ADC wholesalers in Johnstown, County Kildare. By the mid-1980s the hardcore of the General’s gang included 30 of some of the most hardened and ruthless mobsters in gangland.
Cahill and his consigliere Traynor bought a number of properties to invest the General’s money, including a dry-cleaner’s on Dublin’s Aungier Street. Traynor, who was the registered owner on the deeds, converted the upstairs section into a brothel. Unwitting customers were often secretly filmed enjoying themselves and blackmailed later. The voyeuristic General liked to shin up a drain pipe and watch the action inside.
In May 1981, Traynor and Cahill bought a grotty little bar at the North Wall near Dublin docks called the Jetfoil, which became a notorious haunt for drug-dealing. The money for the purchase came from one of Cahill’s heists and Traynor fronted the bar. They bought it from another long-time villain, Niall Mulvihill, from the north inner-city. Mulvihill was a major player in organized crime and, like Traynor, was a facilitator for gangs. The bar’s stock was either stolen by the General’s men or bought at a competitive ‘wholesale’ price from John Gilligan or George Mitchell. Gilligan, in turn, had sourced the goods from one of the many warehouses he systematically plundered on a weekly basis, earning him the nickname ‘Factory John’. Traynor used counterfeit or stolen bank drafts and false addresses to buy everything else. Gardaí from all over the city were regular visitors to the Jetfoil – and they weren’t there for a quiet pint.
Cahill equipped his little army’s arsenal with the unwitting assistance of the Gardaí. Over a period of several months, the gang repeatedly burgled the Garda Technical Bureau in St John’s Road in Kilmainham where confiscated illegal firearms were stored. He took a large number of handguns, sawn-off shotguns, grenades and machine-guns. The paranoid General u
sed the weapons for more than mere armed robberies. At one stage he conjured up a bizarre plot to embarrass the police by planting some of the stolen guns in the homes of journalists Vincent Browne and Colm Toibin. The two men had been involved in exposing allegations of State/Gardaí malpractice. Cahill plotted to tip off the cops about the guns. He hoped the Gardaí would search the journalists’ houses, ‘find’ the guns, and then Cahill could reveal that the arms had been planted by the Gardaí in a bid to discredit the writers. It was one of many hare-brained plots concocted by Cahill and it came to nothing. In another stunt Cahill placed a sawn-off shotgun from the stolen arsenal in the boot of his car. He then ‘found’ it and contacted his solicitor, who in turn called the police. Cahill accused the Gardaí of trying to frame him and said they would probably find that the gun was from their arsenal. In his warped logic, Cahill believed that the discovery of the gun would discredit the cops in the event that he was caught with weapons in the future. He even ordered Martin Foley to phone the Irish Press at one stage and tip them off that he had proof that the Gardaí were trying to frame Martin Cahill. Later that night a reporter met a heavily disguised Foley in a pub car park in Tallaght. The General’s henchman handed the reporter two guns – a sawn-off shotgun and a pistol – which he claimed two named detectives had given him to plant on Cahill. The burglary was not discovered until September 1983 when the Bureau was being moved to more secure offices in Garda HQ. Garda management didn’t acknowledge reports that the guns had been stolen for several years.
In the meantime the Cahill gang were carrying out robberies and aggravated burglaries all over the country. On 29 January 1981, Cahill and Christy Dutton went out on a two-man job. Earlier that morning 45-year-old Dutton had been in the District Court, where he was remanded on continuing bail for a serious assault. Cahill picked him up on a motorbike and less than 20 minutes later they walked into the office of Quintin Flynn Ltd, in the Western Industrial Estate, Clondalkin. The company specialized in the sale and hire of computer games. They held up the company secretary at gunpoint and scooped a total of £5,724, including £1,000 in coins – Cahill didn’t believe in leaving loose change behind. As they ran to their motorbike, the pair struggled to carry the heavy bag of coins between them.
A short time later they were spotted by a squad car in Rathmines but they gave it the slip. Forty-five minutes later detectives found the bike abandoned on a pathway along the Dodder River, behind Bushy Park in Terenure. As officers began a search of the area, Cahill and Dutton walked around the corner, carrying two helmets, and were promptly arrested. While in custody, officers from the Technical Bureau took possession of the men’s helmets, gloves and jackets, for forensic examination. They also took Dutton’s shoes which had melted onto the motorbike’s exhaust pipe. Throughout the 48 hours he was being held, Cahill continuously repeated his mantra: ‘I don’t want to talk to youse men … leave me alone.’
At the same time Detective Garda Felix McKenna, one of Cahill’s old adversaries, located the money from the robbery in a ditch along the Dodder River. The Gardaí didn’t find the guns as they’d been retrieved earlier from another hiding place in the park.
Cahill and Dutton were charged with armed robbery and possession of firearms on 31 January. Detectives ensured that Cahill wouldn’t be able to accuse the cops of a frame-up this time. They were going to use their new weapon to put Cahill away – forensic evidence.
Dr James Donovan examined 58 pieces of evidence upon which the State’s case would be largely based. He established scientific evidence, linking the criminals to the spot where the Quintin Flynn money was recovered and to the stolen motorbike. The forensic analysis could also make a link between the men’s clothes and helmets and the actual crime scene. As far as Detective Inspector Ned Ryan was concerned, Martin Cahill was going down. The General, however, didn’t agree.
On 11 October 1981, Cahill and Dutton were returned for trial from the District Court to the Circuit Criminal Court. Later that night Cahill broke into the office of the clerk of the District Court on Chancery Street. He dug out his own file and three others, placed them in the middle of the floor and set them alight. The office was completely destroyed in the blaze. A new file had to be constructed by the Gardaí and the DPP and lodged in the more secure Four Courts. Cahill expressed his dissatisfaction by dispatching two of his men to set fire to that building. The blaze cost the equivalent of at least €1 million in today’s values and forced the closure of some of the highest courts in the land for over a month. The last time the building had suffered such an attack was during the Civil War. The Four Courts was again at the centre of a violent conflict – Martin Cahill’s war against the State.
The General realized that the arson attacks were not going to prevent his trial from going ahead and he was running out of options. When he consulted his legal advisers and studied the Book of Evidence, it was obvious that the State’s case was based mainly on compelling forensic evidence. Dr James Donovan was the witness who could put him away, so Cahill decided that the scientist would have to die.
Dr Donovan was already well known to members of the Cahill gang. He’d testified at Anthony Cahill’s trial for the murder of John Copeland, where fibres from the dead man’s flat were found on Cahill’s clothing. It was this evidence that resulted in Anthony’s conviction for burglary. The forensic expert was also due to testify in an aggravated burglary case involving Eddie Cahill and gang member Harry Melia. In 1978 the two violent criminals had attempted to rob Ambrose Sheridan, manager of The Belgard Inn in Tallaght. Sheridan and his wife were badly beaten with iron bars and kidnapped from their home. A jacket Eddie had left behind provided the forensic key which clinched the State’s case against him.
Martin Cahill first considered abducting and killing the scientist or assassinating him in the street but decided there was too great a risk of being caught. He then looked to the example of the IRA. They had been using car bombs as an effective murder weapon in the North and Britain. A booby-trap device would get rid of Cahill’s enemy and he reasoned that the Provos would be blamed because they also had a motive.
Cahill and his henchmen began to watch Dr Donovan’s movements and soon worked out his routine. The scientist was provided with an armed Garda driver only when he was testifying in court – the rest of the time he had no protection. Every morning he left his home shortly after 8 a.m. and travelled the same route to the Phoenix Park.
According to a report on the investigation, which emerged for the first time while researching this book, a total of seven individuals were later identified as being involved in the bomb plot. A number of named informants, including one of the men involved, revealed that Cahill had approached INLA members Thomas Healy and Thomas McCarton and offered them £5,000 to make the bomb. Healy, who was described as a van driver from Clondalkin in south-west Dublin, was well known as an armed robber who worked with criminal gangs in the city. In 1977, he was convicted in the Special Criminal Court on charges of possessing firearms with intent to endanger life. McCarton, an ex-Provo from Belfast, had been jailed in the late 1970s. He was part of a team sent to murder the founder of the IRSP, Seamus Costello, in the first of many internecine INLA feuds. Following his release, McCarton moved to live in Crumlin, beside his friend Martin Foley, and took part in heists with the Cahill gang. According to the documents, both men agreed to help Cahill as long as he gave an undertaking that blame for the ‘operation’ would not be passed onto the INLA. At one meeting a well-placed informant quoted Cahill as saying the scientist ‘will have to be done and we [Cahill’s gang] will see that he is put away’.
Henry, Christy and Larry Dunne were also involved in the plot. According to the confidential information, the Dunnes were asked to obtain explosives for the bomb in November 1981. Christy Dunne bought a small consignment of explosive from an underworld arms-dealer who was based in the north inner-city. The dealer had been a member of Saor Eire.
A device was constructed which Cahill and ano
ther associate then attached to Dr Donovan’s car outside his home on the night of 24 November. The following morning Dr Donovan was driving to work when he heard what he later described as a slow, rolling explosion. In his rear-view mirror, he also saw a flash on the driver’s side of the car. Donovan pulled in and examined underneath the car but could see no damage. The explosive substance had been faulty. The scientist had no idea that he had been the victim of a bomb attempt and passed it off as a mechanical fault.
Martin Cahill, his associate Noel Lynch, Healy and two of the Dunne brothers then recruited INLA member Gerry Roche, who was a bomb-making specialist. From Dun Laoghaire, Roche was described in Special Branch reports as an ‘extremely dangerous terrorist’ who was one of the founder members of the INLA. Acknowledged for his unique ‘leadership and organisational abilities’, Roche was the INLA’s Chief of Staff, for two terms in the 1970s and 1980s. Three years earlier he was suspected of plotting to murder the British Ambassador, when he placed a radio-controlled bomb under the Ambassador’s church seat. Luckily it failed to explode. In 1981 Roche had served a short sentence for taking part in riots outside the British Embassy in Dublin, in support of IRA hunger-strikers in the Maze H Blocks. He gave Cahill a quantity of gelignite and the components which McCarton used to make a second bomb. This time there would be no mistakes.
In the early hours of 6 January 1982, Cahill and his associates fixed the bomb under Dr Donovan’s car. At 8.30 a.m. it exploded with devastating consequences and sparked a new crisis for the Government. Over sixty detectives were assigned to the investigation. It involved one of the biggest trawls of the criminal and terrorist community yet seen. Within weeks Gardaí had a full picture of how the crime was organized and who had been involved. Martin Cahill, Noel Lynch, Thomas Healy, Gerry Roche and Henry and Christy Dunne were among ten suspects arrested for questioning about the outrage under the Offences Against the State Act.
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