by Rita Harling
As the weeks went on there were more reports in the media and things were becoming clearer to me. I learned that young Joey had been put in the witness protection programme as Brian and Thomas Hinchon had threatened to kill him. Joey had gone to Ballymun garda station with the support of his mam and reported the O’Reilly murder. In my eyes Joey was a brave young man and he did the right thing. I was worried for him though, and I knew that this would change his life forever.
I avoided going out or to shops for fear that Conor would see photographs of his father in the newspapers. Robyn was constantly worried that the gardaí would show up at the door. I felt sorry for the kids. I had to protect them. I felt sorry for Joey, too.
Brian Kenny and Thomas Hinchon were arrested on 12 May 2004. The rest of that year went peacefully for me. I was delighted that Brian had been incarcerated as I would no longer have to endure his abusive behaviour. However, I was still hiding myself away from reality. I continued working in the hope that no one made any connection between Brian Kenny and my family. I was beginning to enjoy my new freedom as it felt like the ties between Brian and me had been cut. I was enjoying my time in work with my workmates and the everyday banter that I shared with passengers as I checked them in at Dublin Airport.
It was the beginning of June 2005 when a young female garda knocked at the door. She handed me a piece of paper and apologised.
‘I know you are probably expecting this and don’t want it, but I’m sorry, Rita.’ She seemed sincere, and she waited there until I had read the document.
It was a subpoena. I had been called to give evidence against Brian in the trial of the murder of Jonathan O’Reilly. My nerves were shot. I would have to be brave.
Over the coming week, I told my family about the subpoena and they were all supportive. But they worried about possible reprisals, and so did I. I didn’t know who Brian Kenny had been dealing with or running with. I was very nervous that week and couldn’t sleep at night. I was now in a position that there was no getting away from. I would have to go to court and tell the truth.
I read all the newspaper articles that week and discovered the full extent of the cruelty that Brian had subjected Joey to. He had been imprisoned by Brian. I could sympathise with him; Brian had locked me inside the cottage many times. He made Joey stay within the walls of Mitchelstown Cottage. He was told when to eat and when to wash. Brian also subjected him to ferocious beatings, biting and punching him. Brian was worried that young Joey would tell the gardaí what he knew about the slaying of Jonathan O’Reilly. At one point he held a gun in Joey’s mouth, threatening to kill him if he spoke a word about it to anyone. He also fired shots over the young lad’s head when he brought him into a field at the rear of the cottage, putting the fear of God in him. Brian’s behaviour had reached new extremes. He did everything in his power to ensure that Joey feared for his life. At that time he was a serious heroin addict, so he would have been paranoid and unpredictable. I prayed for Joey and I would support him by not giving Brian an alibi.
Thank God I got away from Kenny when I did. God only knows what he would have subjected my children to, especially when he was off his head on heroin. There is no doubt in my mind that if Joey had not reported Jonathan O’Reilly’s murder to the gardaí, Brian would have continued with his manic lifestyle. If he compared himself to Tony Soprano before, I can only begin to imagine how large his ego had become by that time.
Brian had threatened to eliminate me before. I am sure had I not given him his way he would have had me removed in some way, either by having me shot or by staging my disappearance. So I have Joey to be grateful to for saving me from that fate. Joey’s bravery probably saved a lot of other lives too, although he has paid a price. Living his life without the freedom to do the things that he wants to do without secrecy or fear must be very difficult. Joey is probably still reliving the nightmares of his abuse at the hands of Brian. I know it took me a long time to recover after I had escaped. Joey probably also suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder and might have also had panic attacks, like I did.
The week that the subpoena was served I had a visitor. I was expecting my friend Brendan, from Spain, to call to the house to see me. He rang me and told me that he was in Finglas Village and that he would drop in for a chat. I quickly tidied up and waited for him to call. I was lighting a scented candle with a match when there was a knock the door. I got a fright and dropped the match into the candle. I expected it to be Brendan. Still trying to retrieve the match, I opened the front door without looking out and told Brendan to come in. When I had retrieved the match and looked up I found a colleague of Brian’s standing in my livingroom. I was surprised and a bit taken aback. He had obviously heard about the subpoena. I wondered what he wanted. Actually I knew what he wanted.
He was pleasant enough and complimented me on my home. He told me that he had also been given a subpoena and that he was going to try to get out of it. I don’t know how he planned to do that. He then told me that he had had a visitor to the cottage (he had been looking after the Cottage while Brian was being held in Cloverhill, awaiting trial). He told me that the caller told him to pass on a message to Brian that he was not to open his mouth, or else! He said the caller was a Kildare man and that he looked fairly affluent and didn’t look to be part of a drugs ring. Brian’s colleague told me that this guy had unnerved him about giving evidence in court.
I didn’t know how to take this information. I wondered if he was trying to make me nervous about the same man showing up at my house. It would have taken more than that for me to change my mind. I wondered how could Brian’s colleague still stand in Brian’s defence. Why would he want to get Brian, a dangerous, violent and mentally ill man, off the hook? If he had been my friend, I would have disowned him.
Chapter Nine
THE TRIAL
The trial was set for 16 June and was held in the Four Courts. The detective called me and said he and a colleague would collect me from my house early that morning. I tried to smarten myself up. My hands shook with nervousness as I applied my make-up. I sprayed Rescue Remedy on my tongue about forty times that morning. I wore a beige suit jacket, white blouse and black trousers. I made sure that I had a good supply of cigarettes in my shoulder bag.
I told Robyn not to leave the house. If there were any problems she was to call my neighbour, Sue, as she was keeping an ear out for them. I hated leaving them. I stood at the front door awaiting the detectives’ arrival and dragged nervously on a cigarette. My stomach was doing summersaults. Eventually, the detectives pulled up right outside the house. I closed the door behind me, took a deep breath and climbed into the back seat. When we got to the Four Courts, I climbed out and lit another cigarette. The detectives made some idle chit-chat about my new job on the journey in. If only my colleagues at work knew how I was spending my day off. It was so surreal that I thought that I was dreaming. I felt like I was playing a part in a movie. I couldn’t believe that I was there to give evidence in a murder trial.
We walked through the back gates of the Four Courts and I felt my heart race when I saw a number of people dressed in wigs and gowns. The detectives brought me into a hallway that leads to the Law Library. One of them opened a door and gestured for me to go inside. Above the door was a sign: ‘Victims’ Support’. When I went inside I was introduced to a lady. She was very nice and she sat with me until it was my turn to be called to the witness stand. She made me tea and tried to calm me. The detectives went back and forth, keeping themselves updated on any progress. I remember asking myself: ‘How did I get to here?’
One of the detectives told me that the prisoners hadn’t arrived yet and that he would accompany me outside if I needed to have a cigarette. I was standing outside in the courtyard, flanked by armed guards, when I noticed the prison transport vehicle arrive. Then I saw Brian Kenny and Thomas Hinchon being led along the hallway, both of them handcuffed. When I saw them I felt sick. The detectives crowded around me to keep me out of thei
r view, but I caught a glimpse of them as they passed each window on their way along the corridor to the courtroom. I was ushered back inside and the detectives left the room to find out what was going on.
About an hour had passed when the detectives returned for me. I was brought into the circular hallway at the main entrance to the Four Courts building. It was filled with people. The prosecuting counsel came out to meet me and shook my hand and thanked me for coming. He explained to me what was going to happen and gave me some direction on how to present my answers, advising me not to elaborate or move off the topic. They wanted it kept simple, which made sense.
I was nervous and the detectives again brought me outside the main entrance for a cigarette. One of them stood on either side of me. Then I spotted Brian’s dad, Billy, approaching me. One of the detectives warned him away quickly and Billy backed off.
I was then brought to the courtroom door and I could see people through the glass. I was told to look straight ahead and focus on the chair that was at the far end of the room. There were a couple of steps that I would have to climb first to sit in it. The detective told me that Brian and Thomas would be in the stands to my right as I walked along the aisle, and he advised me not to look at them.
I heard my name being called. The doors burst open and a number of uniformed gardaí came out to me. I knew what I had to do. I took the detective’s advice and focused on the chair, and did not let my eyes wander in any direction other than that. I could feel Brian’s eyes burrow into me, but I would not look his way. I mounted the steps and stood and faced the judge, who was seated at the same level as me. He smiled at me and thanked me for coming. The court clerk asked me to swear on the Bible, and I placed my hand on it. She smiled at me, realising my misunderstanding and said that I needed to take it in my hand. I smiled back when I realised my mistake. I felt stupid. I was sworn in and the prosecuting counsel started with his questions.
He asked me to verify who I was and if I had lived at Mitchelstown Cottage in Kilshane with the accused, Brian Kenny. Did Brian Kenny and I have a son? Did Brian Kenny and I part in February 2002?
‘On the day of 17 April Brian Kenny was due to collect his son for visitation and never turned up, is that correct?’ he asked
Yes, that’s correct,’ I answered. If they did not hear me say ‘yes’, they would know what ‘that’s correct’ meant.
The defence counsel did not want to question me. They were probably afraid to ask me questions because I could have given the jurors a clearer picture of Brian Kenny’s character. The defence counsel would not want that.
‘That’s all, Ms Harling. You can go now,’ were the last words that I heard in the courtroom that day as the judge dismissed me.
I climbed down the steps, still aware that Brian was watching me, still not making eye contact with him. I could feel his eyes follow me out the door. I smiled as I left the courtroom. I felt proud of myself. I had done what I had come to do. I felt stronger and I felt that I had stood up to Brian Kenny. I was no longer going to be intimidated by him. I think that he thought that there was no way I would give evidence against him. I’m not afraid of much any more. He has made me a stronger person. It’s strange to think that, especially as it is probably the last thing Brian would have imagined when he abused me. His treatment of me has actually made me stronger.
I wondered how young Joey was doing. Was he waiting in the wings somewhere, nervously hoping that the jury would believe his story? I knew that I would not get to see him. He was probably waiting in a different part of the building. My heart was with him.
The detectives accompanied me home. They told me that they would let me know what the sentence was. When we got to my house, they got out of the car and shook my hand. They thanked me and told me that I was a very brave woman. Then they left. I no longer had anyone’s protection. The job was done and now I would have to move on. I had played my part — an important part.
I replied to the the many missed calls from family members and friends. They were all curious and concerned about the outcome of the case, and they were all worried about my well being. Robyn followed me around the house for the rest of that day. I knew that she was concerned as well. That night I sat on the edge of the bed staring out the window waiting for something to happen. I did the same thing every night that week. I was nervous of the unknown. I was so unsure about the outcome of the trial. I prayed to God that justice would be done, and that Brian would receive the sentence he deserved.
One of the detectives sent me a text later that week telling me the outcome of the trial. On July 5 2005 Mr Justice Peart sentenced both Brian Kenny and Thomas Hinchon to life for the murder of Jonathan O’Reilly. Brian was also handed down two additional three-year sentences for threatening Joey’s life and for possession of firearms and ammunition. Thomas Hinchon received an additional eighteen months, also for threatening Joey’s life. By my calculation, Brian would serve between eighteen and twenty-one years, although nobody has given me a definitive number. I am still unsure of his release date. Conor will be a grown man by then, and God knows where life will have brought us to by that time.
When Brian was arrested, he was held in Cloverhill Remand Prison in Clondakin. He remained there for some time after the trial. However, he has since been moved to Mountjoy Prison in Dublin 7, which is a higher-security facility. I believe that he now spends twenty-three hours a day in solitary confinement. I often wonder what goes through his mind now, especially as he has a lot of time to think. I sometimes wonder if he feels remorseful about what he did. Does he regret the past? Does he regret the hurt that he put other people through? Does he think about his family and what he put them through? Does he ever think about Jonathan O’Reilly’s family? Does he realise that his actions, cruelty and extreme violence caused so much pain and suffering?
After Brian’s arrest Amanda Joyce gave birth to Brian’s second son. Brian’s behaviour over the years has now left two children without the love and support of their father. I regret that Conor will grow up not knowing his father. Brian will never kick football with him or teach him how to swim, fish or ride a bike, and Conor will grow up without those memories. That’s a sad fact. Conor has never asked to visit his father in Mountjoy which doesn’t surprise me. Robyn and I would prefer to forget about Brian Kenny, so he won’t be getting a visit from either of us. I’m not sure how much his own family visit him. I have no idea about the visiting rules in prison, and I don’t want to either.
When I think back to the day that I accepted a lift from him, and remember how he laughed and joked with Robyn, it’s hard to believe that he ended up in prison for murder. Not only have his actions ended a young man’s life, but they have also made a total waste of his own.
Brian had choices and he chose a life of destruction. He had two chances of a family life. When we set up home together, we had all the regular things most couples aim for: we both had good jobs, we had a mortgage, but most of all we had two wonderful children to share our home. Brian destroyed all that. He got a second chance with Amanda Joyce and he destroyed it again. I wonder if he ponders his choices during his twenty-three hours in solitary confinement.
The Clondalkin gang continued to reap the rewards of their cruel regime. Jonathan O’Reilly was dead as a result of their greed. His so-called friends, Brian Kenny and Thomas Hinchon, were serving life behind bars for his assassination. Robbie O’Hanlon continued to deal drugs until he was shot dead while taking part in a football match near Liffey Valley shopping centre. He was shot three times to the head and chest. I read an article about him and it seems that he was a nasty piece of work. He was a very violent man and on one occasion he was violent towards his girlfriend. I read how he had brutally beaten her with a sweeping brush-handle until it broke in the middle. Brian had done the same thing to me. Robbie’s girlfriend had him charged and he spent some time in prison for the offence. I have to admire her courage. She was a brave girl indeed, and should be very proud of herself.
Another member of the Clondalkin-based gang was also murdered a year later. Ritchie McCormack was shot dead outside his brother’s home. Paul Doyle was the only remaining member of this group. He was still in prison serving time for the drug raid that was carried out at his home in 2003. He received a five-year sentence with the last year suspended. The gang had broken up by the time Doyle was released from prison. I wonder if he learned anything from his time in prison and has moved on with his life. The gang may have broken up, but drugs will never disappear. They will always be a part of our world. There will be someone else to pick up where they left off.
The days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, and I was feeling great to be free of Brian. I was enjoying planning for the future. After work one day, I dropped in on Mam to see how her day was going. She was well when I got to the house, but she seemed a little quiet. When I asked her what was wrong she dismissed it by saying: ‘Nothing’. I wasn’t happy with that, so I asked again. She told me that she had received a phone call earlier and that she was a bit confused about it. She explained that the call had come from Brian. I was in shock. How could this be? Surely they don’t have this privilege in prison? She said that he wanted her to ask me to forward photographs of Conor to him at Cloverhill.
I also knew that Mam was holding something back. She wasn’t telling me everything. She seemed worried and I wondered if Brian had threatened her. I knew that Mam was a strong lady, but I also knew that Brian could prey on her vulnerability as an elderly person living alone. I begged her to tell me what else Brian had said, and she eventually gave in and told me.
She said that Brian had called from his cell, and that he had told her that he was sharing a cell with Liam, Jock Corbally’s son. I think Mam was a bit gobsmacked by this, or maybe she was remembering her friend Maureen Corbally who had died a few years earlier from cancer. Liam was Maureen’s grandson. My Mam had befriended Maureen in the early eighties. The two women had met on a bus and they became close friends.