The Shankill Butchers Page 17
He waited several hours for the forensic experts to do their work until finally he was informed that the bullets removed from Mary Murray did match the rifling grooves on the pistol and lead residue had been found on the sleeves and in the pockets of Murphy’s coat. No traces of lead were found on the swabs taken from Bates, D. and E., nor on their clothing, and they were released. Murphy was also released though Nesbitt knew that twenty-four hour surveillance of him was virtually impossible. His plan was to place surveillance on the spot where the gun was found so that if Murphy did come to retrieve it a waiting patrol car could be alerted. At 8.15 A.M. the following day, 3 March, Murphy drove to Lowood Park alone in a lorry and the following is an account of his behaviour as observed by one of the residents of Lowood Park: ‘I saw a lorry parked outside 27 Lowood Park and my attention was drawn to the vehicle because it seemed to be slipping backwards as if the handbrake had not been properly applied. There was no one in the cab. I looked beyond the lorry and saw a man bending down, rummaging through the hedge surrounding the garden of number 27.’
Several residents of the street who were anxious about the events of the previous day were on the alert and witnessed Murphy searching the hedge, but there was one other person in the street who must, for security reasons, remain anonymous but who was there, at the instigation of Jimmy Nesbitt, to wait and observe. He radioed the police to tell them that the man they wanted was searching for the gun.
A schoolboy delivering papers at the time also saw Murphy and gave Nesbitt this account of what he saw: ‘I was delivering papers when this lorry stopped beside me in Lowood Park. The driver was the only person in the lorry and he got out by the passenger door. He looked up and down the street several times before going to the hedge at number 27. He got down on his knees and searched among the leaves and roots of the hedge with both hands and shook it very hard. After this he walked into the garden and searched the other side of the hedge. When I saw him first start to search the hedge, I stepped up to number 37 and hid behind the hedge there and watched him. He had black curly hair, was of medium height and well built. He was wearing a Wrangler jacket and jeans. The jeans were turned up at the bottom and were a whitish colour and he was wearing black boots. After he searched the hedge he got into the lorry and drove away.’
Within two minutes of Murphy leaving Lowood Park his lorry was flagged down by an RUC mobile patrol and he was detained by Reserve Constable Gerard Donohue, who took him to Greencastle Police Station on the shoreline of Belfast Lough. From there he was transferred to Tennent Street Station, where Nesbitt and members of his murder squad were waiting for his arrival. Detective Sergeant Wilson and Detective Constable Woods were given the task of testing Murphy once again under questioning. Their notes of the interview represent the only record on police files of how Murphy dealt with the interrogation process. Detective Sergeant Wilson put the questions to the accused:
Q. Account for your movements on Wednesday night, March 10.
A. I finished work about 4.30 P.M.
Q. What did you do then?
A. I got my supper and went out about 8.30 or 9.00 P.M.
Q. Where did you go?
A. I went to the Lawnbrook Club, and seen the Morecombe and Wise Show.
Q. How long did you stay there?
A. I left about 8.50 or 8.55.
Q. Where did you go?
A. The Long Bar where I seen Basher Bates.
Q. Did you stay there long?
A. No, I stayed there until about 10.15 and I went to the Four Step and had a couple of games of pool.
Q. What did you do then?
A. I left it and went down to the Long Bar.
Q. What time was that?
A. About 10.55.
Q. How long did you stay there?
A. About ten or fifteen minutes. I went to the Loyalist.
Q. Who did you go to the Loyalist Club with?
A. Basher Bates.
Q. How long did you stay there?
A. About half an hour or so.
Q. Where did you go then?
A. I met Chuck Berry and he invited me up to his club for a drink.
Q. What way did you go up?
A. We walked up.
Q. Did you leave the club at any time?
A. I heard someone say that [Mr E.] was being lifted. Bates and a lot more of us ran down the stairs.
Q. What did you do then?
A. We went over to the soldiers and were talking.
Q. Where did you go after that?
A. We went back to the club.
Q. What time did you leave there?
A. I don’t know what time. I was drunk. We were going over to a house in Moscow Street to get a lift when we met a friend and asked him to give Basher a lift to the West Circular and he said ‘aye’.
Q. Did you both get into the car?
A. The three of us did.
Q. Who was the third person?
A. [In this answer he mentions Mr D.] We were stopped at the junction of Percy Street and the Shankill by the Army and they detained me.
Q. Were you in a bronze Cortina any time on Wednesday night or Thursday morning?
A. No, I don’t think so.
Q. Were you in Crossland Street that night?
A. I don’t know.
Q. Were you in Cliftonville Road early Thursday morning?
A. Definitely not.
Q. Was it Lowood where you stopped yesterday?
A. I don’t know, but it was off the Antrim Road.
Q. What were you doing there?
A. I was going to the tiphead but I got a puncture.
Q. Where did you get the puncture?
A. I don’t know. When you are driving a lorry you can feel when you get a puncture.
Q. Where did you stop the lorry?
A. When I turned right on the Antrim Road I heard her bumping and turned into a street on the left and then I turned left again and stopped. I got out and went round the back of the lorry to look for the puncture. I got on my knees and looked under her and checked for bricks between the tyres. I saw the back right outside wheel was flat.
Q. What did you do then?
A. I looked for a phone and I decided I would risk it and go back to the yard in it.
Q. Did you go back to the yard?
A. No. I got into the cab and drove onto the Antrim Road where I was stopped by police.
Q. What happened then?
A. They took me to Greencastle and then Tennent Street.
Q. What number is the lorry?
A. I don’t know. It is not my lorry.
Q. Did you speak to anyone when you were out of the lorry?
A. No.
Q. What did you do when you got out of the lorry?
A. I looked around the lorry, below it and kicked the tyres.
Q. Did you touch a hedge or damage it?
A. No.
Q. Were you near a hedge when you stopped the lorry?
A. No. I never went near a hedge.
The questioning technique used by Detective Sergeant Wilson was deliberate and was employed in the hope of trapping Murphy, who would not have revealed anything under normal interrogation, hard questioning or verbal game-playing. Nesbitt had briefed Wilson well and was now able to take advantage of the risk which had paid off, namely having released Murphy in the hope that he would return to the scene of the crime. This he had done and was now answering questions while quite unaware that he had been watched as he returned to retrieve his gun. He was also questioned about the ownership of the lorry but was able to point out that he was working for Smyth’s Haulage in West Belfast.
At 8.30 P.M. that same day Detective Sergeant Wilson again saw Murphy but this time preferred the charge of his attempting to murder Mary Murray and Margaret McCartney. Murphy replied, ‘Not guilty’. The following day he was also charged with possessing a firearm with intent to endanger life. Again, he replied, ‘Not guilty’.
Both Nesbitt and Fitzsimmons f
elt it right to charge Murphy and this can be seen in a recommendation which Fitzsimmons sent to the Chief Superintendent in C Division: ‘While the evidence is circumstantial, it is strong and I would submit that Murphy has a case to answer. He is a known thug who has been interviewed on a number of occasions regarding sectarian murders. On one occasion he stood trial but was not convicted. I would suggest, therefore, that, circumstantial though the evidence may be, every effort should be made to bring this man to justice and I would recommend that he be proceeded against.’
The revelation in Fitzsimmon’s recommendation that Murphy had been questioned on other occasions about sectarian murders is one which raises questions. It puzzled me because my enquiries did not reveal any evidence to support such a claim. If it were to be believed, then I should be obliged to conclude that Murphy had been suspected of sectarian murders. If this were so, why had he not been questioned about the cut-throat killings prior to his arrest on 13 March? I wondered whether Fitzsimmons had made a mistake by asserting this on paper, or perhaps he had deliberately stated this fact knowing it to be a falsehood and hoping that it would support the case for proceeding strongly against Murphy on the charge. I checked police files and documents prepared for the case against Murphy and reached the conclusion that Fitzsimmons was not lying. His comments were of course contained within private police memoranda on the Murphy case but this being so I still see no reason why Fitzsimmons would have fabricated this piece of supportive evidence to strengthen his recommendation. I also asked Jimmy Nesbitt if he could unearth from internal police documents any details which would indicate that Murphy was ever interviewed about the cut-throat killings. He replied that Murphy was questioned on 13 March 1976, the same day as he was charged with attempted murder, in respect of the killings of Crossan, Shaw, Quinn and Rice. Detective Sergeant John Scott confirmed this and added that Murphy had laughed when it was put to him that he had killed the people named by Inspector Nesbitt. I have no reason to doubt this but feel that Nesbitt, rather than being convinced, was merely going through the routine procedure of putting to a known killer crimes which had occurred in C Division. Ted McQuaid had been killed in D Division and Nesbitt did not include his name in the list put to Murphy. There is no answer available as to why Fitzsimmons claimed that Murphy had been questioned about sectarian killings prior to 13 March, since I have no evidence from police files to support this.
As time passed, Nesbitt had the opportunity to dwell on Murphy, examine the evidence, contemplate Murphy’s demeanour during interview and recall how he had handled himself during the Pavis enquiry. No further cutthroat killings were occurring and Nesbitt began to feel certain that he had the cut-throat killer behind bars. Nesbitt was so sure of his hunch that he interviewed Murphy while he was on remand in Crumlin Road Prison. Murphy, as usual, played the joker and laughed off the prospect of his being the butcher.
While Murphy was waiting to be brought before the court there was no attempt to trace his associates, although the police knew that Bates had been with him on the night of the attempted murder of the two women. The explanation from the police is that they believed they had the cut-throat killer behind bars. Also, the burden of work, due to increasing terrorism, would not have permitted a large-scale enquiry, plus the fact that proper surveillance of Murphy’s known associates would have been impossible in the Shankill area. While writing this book I discovered that the police were not allowed access to the Rumford Street Loyalist club and could only have gained entry if they had called for an Army assault on the place. Here again is a serious example of the RUC not having the necessary technical resources and manpower to mount an operation which would have identified and led to the arrest of the remainder of Murphy’s unit.
Murphy was visited once a week in prison by Mr A., who relayed Lenny’s orders to the unit which met weekly in the Brown Bear. The most significant of these was that the campaign was to continue but the cut-throat murders were to cease until such time as he ordered them to resume. Murphy knew that Nesbitt felt he had the right man behind bars and he busied himself devising means of throwing the police off the scent. He decided to bide his time and act when he saw fit. He was, however, determined to convince Nesbitt that he was not the knifeman. He was still in charge of the unit and had one trump card up his sleeve which he was convinced would fool even Nesbitt.
9
Murder Deal
Smithfield is a shopping area on the edge of Belfast city centre and has traditionally been a neighbourhood frequented by people from both sides of the community. It is essentially a market place with the features of a flea market. New goods are sold alongside junk and bric-à-brac. It is situated one hundred yards from the entrance to the Shankill Road and part of it borders the Castle Street extension of the Lower Falls District. Most adults in Belfast would be able to recall their first childhood visit to Smithfield, probably to look at the animals in pet shop windows or in cages on the pavement. The pubs in the area have both Catholic and Protestant clients. One such pub, the Chlorane Bar, provided a lively atmosphere both downstairs and in its upstairs lounge. Aside from passing trade, the Chlorane also catered for a regular clientele who frequented the premises after the surrounding shops closed each evening at 6.00 P.M. It provided a welcome opportunity for people of both religions to drink together, not a regular occurrence in a city of ghettoes.
At 10.00 P.M. on Saturday 5 June, Roland Cargill arrived at Smithfield Bus Station to discover that the bus to take him home would not depart until 10.30 P.M. He decided to pass twenty-five minutes in the Chlorane Bar in nearby Gresham Street. When he walked into the downstairs public bar he ordered a drink and looked around the room. He noticed at least ten other people drinking and chatting, some in groups of twos and threes. Roland paid for his drink and sat alone at a table in the middle of the room within sight of the entrance to the bar. Also in the bar were Robert Emerson and his brother John, who were sitting at a table under the staircase which led to the lounge. Robert remembers that he and his brother always sat in this spot. When they first arrived they noticed forty-seven-year-old Daniel McNeill from Percy Street in the Shankill area sitting alone at a table. Robert and his brother were soon joined by two other acquaintances: Frederick Graham and his girlfriend, Pat Mahood. Sitting at the rear of the bar between the storeroom and the gents toilet was forty-five-year-old William Greer who was relaxing after a hard day’s work in the security service of the Royal Victoria Hospital in Belfast. His recollection is that everyone in the bar was in a happy mood; most of those present were regular customers and therefore casually acquainted. The subject of politics was studiously avoided by drinkers in this bar because the topic risked causing offence between customers of different persuasions.
Frederick Graham and Pat Mahood were sitting on a bench seat facing the main bar when they noticed the Emersons and exchanged greetings. Frederick and Pat also noticed Daniel McNeill sitting on his own and ordered a drink for him which the barman delivered to his table. McNeill, unlike others in the Chlorane, was believed by police to have UVF connections though he certainly was not an active member of the organization.
Also in the bar were Francis Carrothers, Samuel Corr and John Martin and, like the others mentioned, they were Protestants.
The owner of the Chlorane was sixty-four-year-old Jimmy Coyle, who was serving behind the bar and was on first-name terms with all his customers. He was a Catholic, and sitting in the bar that night was a fellow Catholic, forty-five-year-old Edward Farrell, whom Jimmy knew well.
At 10.00 P.M., less than half a mile away from the Chlorane, Mark Hagan was driving his black taxi along the Shankill Road with one passenger on board. He was signalled to stop by two youths outside the Long Bar. He remembers expecting them to be prospective customers, and there was nothing to suggest that they were intent on hijacking his vehicle. However, once the youths were in the taxi one of them leaned over to the driver’s seat and told Hagan that the taxi was being commandeered. Hagan and his earlier pa
ssenger were taken to the Windsor Bar with a warning that they would be held hostage there for half an hour. I believe that they were both told that in no circumstances were they to provide identification of the hijackers to the police nor to offer information on the identities of the men holding them hostage in the Windsor Bar.
Before 10.00 P.M. Charles Bolton was cycling through Belfast city centre, making his way home after an unsuccessful evening trying to pick winning greyhounds at the Dunmore Park racing track off Belfast’s Antrim Road. As he entered Gresham Street he noticed a black taxi drawing to a halt outside the Chlorane Bar. He felt intuitively that something was about to happen and got off his bike. His recollection of what took place was later given to police:
Four men got out of this taxi and walked to the door of the bar. The light was on in the hallway of the bar and outside it was getting dark. The men walked in single file from the taxi into the bar. They seemed to go upstairs and I noticed that the last of the four men pulled on a bright coloured hood as he entered the front door leading to the bar. When the four men were inside, the taxi took off. I think it went in the direction of Smithfield Square but at any rate it soon returned, going against the traffic signs which indicated that Gresham Street was a one-way system and stopped outside the Chlorane. Before the taxi returned I heard clicks coming from inside the bar. I spoke to a man walking along Gresham Street and told him that I thought a robbery was taking place. I climbed onto my bicycle and went to a nearby Army Post and told soldiers there what I had witnessed. I also told them that the taxi was not using its headlights and that the four men were all about five feet ten inches in height, well built and in the twenty to thirty years age group. They were all well dressed. One had shoulder-length hair, brown in colour, and was wearing a brown suit. He was the last man to enter the bar. The other men also wore suits. The taxi driver was an elderly man who was thin-faced and wearing glasses. I would not know him or the four men who walked into the Chlorane.