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'They're selling children down the river'
Sarah McInerney



AS THE press gathered in the oval hall of the Four Courts on Thursday, Nuala Murphy was talking on the radio from the United States, imploring the judges to make the right decision.

Her brother, Simon Murphy, sexually abused her when she was 10 years old. He also abused three other young girls. Now he had applied to be released from jail. And from across the Atlantic, Nuala begged the judges not to let this happen.

Murphy's case was to be heard in Court Two. Three doors away, in Court Four, 19-year-old Joseph Sherwood was also asking to get out of jail. A gap had been found in the law. Now the rush was on.

Four gardai marched into the round room, leading two men in handcuffs. Total silence washed over the room as a sea of eyes followed the men into court. Then everyone rushed to follow.

Four years of jail had aged Simon Murphy. Brown hair was now grey, and his eyes were watery and red. He alternated his gaze from the floor to Judge John Quirke, who may have been the only person in Court Two who didn't know what was going on. "I was away last week, remind me what section was struck out, " he said.

It didn't take long. Both cases were adjourned. The Supreme Court decision the following morning would have significant impact on the future of the men.

Counsel for the State, Gerard Hogan, was one of the first to arrive for that hearing. He set up his notes on a large copper podium . . . one yellow page covered with scrawling handwriting, and one huge volume of paper, carefully marked with green tabs.

Hogan flicked through page after page, underlining certain arguments with a green highlighter pen. His legal team arrived shortly afterwards, literally pulling a suitcase of legal documents behind them.

The five judges walked in. No wigs, no robes, just stern and serious faces. Everyone rose.

Court was in session. Gerard Hogan propped one leg up on his seat, and launched into a twohour argument. The legal technicalites were dense and complicated. The room hushed, confused. A defence barrister let his head fall to his chest.

Just across the Liffey, the screams and chants of an angry public were rousing politicians out of Leinster House. Half an hour before the demonstration against Mr A's release was due to begin, a huge crowd had already gathered outside the Dail, clutching white flowers One garda was desperately trying to keep people behind the barrier, and off the road. "Onto the path, please, " he said, shepherding the crowd to where there was no space. More demonstrators arrived. The garda watched the path spill over, and started focusing on redirecting the cars instead.

One of Simon Murphy's victims swayed with the crowd as a verse of 'We Shall Overcome' was sung in unison. "The first I knew about [the Supreme Court decision] was Monday night, " she told the Sunday Tribune, shouting to be heard. "I couldn't sleep after that, obviously. But the next day, I emailed all the politicians, Bertie, McDowell, the Tanaiste, every one of them. I got one reply. An email from Joan Burton. After that, I got onto Joe Duffy."

Standing behind the barrier, a blonde lady wearing a specially printed tee-shirt bearing the picture of convicted child rapist John Adams was waving a placard in the air. She was Sonia Irwin, a relation and a victim of Adams.

She had travelled from Belfast that morning to protest against the events of the week. "There can be no compromise on this, " she said. "They're selling children down the river."

The organisers of the protest took to the microphone. They urged the estimated 1,500 people to remain calm and dignified in their demonstration. "Let's be orderly, and lay our flowers at the gate, " said Monica Rowe, the chief organiser. "Let's not make this into a witch hunt."

In the middle of the crowd, an elderly lady, impeccably dressed, laughed as this was said. "They're being way too nice to them, " she said. "I wouldn't be so nice."




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