Woman (48) admits killing husband in Balbriggan
A 48-year-old woman has admitted killing her partner in north county Dublin last year.
Olesja Hertova of Hastings Lawn, Balbriggan was before Dublin Circuit Criminal Court on Monday, where she was arraigned on the single count of unlawfully killing James Ryan.
She started crying when the charge was put to her, and she pleaded guilty to his manslaughter on August 11th, 2024 at Hastings Lawn.
Her barrister, Bernard Condon SC, explained to the court that the deceased was her husband, and he asked for the earliest sentence date available.
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Judge Orla Crowe remanded her in custody for sentencing on July 3rd, 2025.
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Irish Times
an hour ago
- Irish Times
Death In Derry - Martin McGuinness and the Derry IRA's War Against The British: Strong on candour, weak on analysis
Death In Derry: Martin McGuinness and the Derry IRA's War Against The British Author : Jonathan Trigg ISBN-13 : 978-1785375477 Publisher : Merrion Press Guideline Price : €19.99 This book is a valuable contribution to the literature of the Troubles period and the history of the IRA. Jonathan Trigg has secured interviews with several former British soldiers and IRA members, many under pseudonyms. This is new material. The weaknesses in the book are that it is not strong on political analysis and that it accepts simplistic versions of key events such as the Battle of the Bogside and the Falls Road rioting of August 1969. He says, for instance, that the 1971 internment raids were not extended to loyalists because of unionist pressure. Actually, this was on legal advice that such a measure could not be used against a force that did not threaten the state – the same logic by which the Irish government refused to intern IRA members at the same time. READ MORE Trigg is happy to describe the period of violence as a war, accepting terminology favoured by the IRA themselves. He writes of IRA activists in a tone bordering on admiration, apparently as one soldier respecting others. [ A former British army officer and author on former IRA members opening up to him: 'Trust is a huge issue' Opens in new window ] That will grate with some who will prefer a more moralistic approach and will not like to read of murders being described as 'successes'. Trigg is a military historian. His strengths are in understanding military culture and warfare. It is almost endearing how he admits to occasional failings in his research. One IRA man refuses to tell him what he was jailed for and he leaves it at that, when another researcher might have gone into the newspaper archives and found out. He misses some important nuances. In a chapter about the south Derry IRA centred around Bellaghy, he attributes the reduced level of republican militancy in the area to the presence of the literary centre Seamus Heaney HomePlace, and the 'thousands of tourists wandering around with their camera phones'. Clearly he hasn't been to Bellaghy lately. However, he has secured the candour of several former Provos and soldiers, and this factor provides an understanding of their actions and their thinking that earns the book a place on the shelves of any serious future researchers or writers on the period. One amusing detail is that the British army developed a remote control camera system for monitoring suspects but had to scrap it because those suspects would hear the click and the whirr of the film winder. That wouldn't be a problem with the technology of today.
Irish Times
3 hours ago
- Irish Times
‘I called him Dad': the Dublin scout leader and the men who accuse him of abuse
It was an incongruous sight on a sunny, quiet Sunday spring morning: a red van, crumpled at the front, jutting out on to a normally busy road in suburban south Dublin that had been closed by gardaí . The force of the impact with the old Norway Maple had crushed the front of the van on the driver's side; bark had been ripped from the tree. The damage to both van and tree gave an indication of how fast the vehicle had been travelling, in a 50km/h speed limit zone. The single-vehicle crash , which happened shortly after 6am on Sunday, April 7th, 2024 in Churchtown, claimed the life of the driver, the van's sole occupant. He was pronounced dead at the scene. Three hours later, the road was still closed as gardaí investigated how it happened. A garda at the tape cordon declined to speculate. The scene of the crash in which Neville Kearns died on April 7th, 2024 Within 48 hours it emerged that the driver, who was 69, had been due to stand trial the following day on 113 counts including charges of indecent assault, sexual assault, rape and attempted rape. They related to allegations made by five complainants dating back to the 1980s and 1990s. READ MORE The man's identity has never been publicly disclosed. His name was Neville Kearns. A number of men had provided statements to the Garda, lodging complaints that had led to his pending trial in the criminal courts. Kearns, of Edenvale Apartments, a gated apartment complex on Grange Road – not far from Marlay Park in Rathfarnham, south Dublin – was facing 71 counts of indecent assault, 27 of sexual assault, 13 of rape and two of attempted rape at the time of his death. The trial had been due to begin eight days before his 70th birthday. Edenvale Apartments, Rathfarnham, where Neville Kearns lived. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw On Monday, April 8th, 2024 the court was informed of Kearns's death; counsel for the Director of Public Prosecutions told Mr Justice Paul McDermott, sitting at Dublin Central Criminal Court, that the DPP was entering a nolle prosequi – a decision to no longer prosecute. The court directed that the indictment be marked 'deceased'. The men concerned had been ready to go into the witness box to testify against Kearns and outline the abuse they claimed to have suffered at his hands. Today, three of them have decided to share their story publicly for the first time but wish to maintain their anonymity. They believe that being named could bring 'chaos' into their lives and those of their loved ones. Gardaí seal off the road in Churchtown following the crash in which Neville Kearns died last year 'I have children in college, an elderly mother to care for, bills to pay and a life to live,' one says. Now aged in their late 40s and 50s, the men allege that Kearns targeted, groomed and regularly sexually assaulted them as children. They say the alleged incidents took place in the 1980s and early 1990s, when they were aged between 10 and 15, and Kearns was in his 20s and 30s. Kearns denied the allegations. Kearns was a former member of the Catholic Boy Scouts of Ireland, as it was then known, and worked as a house master at St Joseph's School For Deaf Boys in Cabra, Dublin. He went on regular camping trips with boys. Many of these were not official scouting events, but the men say Kearns used his previous involvement in the organisation as a way to legitimise himself. In some cases, the alleged abuse also took place in the children's homes or in Kearns's family home. The men say they worked through decades of pain – and years of preparing for the prospect of a trial – only to have their chance at justice snatched from them 24 hours before they were due in court. 'The whole world fell apart really,' says Andrew*. 'It was the Sunday morning; the trial was the next morning, Monday. And I just knew – as soon as I saw the guard's name come up [on my phone] – I knew.' He knew Kearns was dead and the trial was never going to happen. Neville Kearns on a trip with scouts Andrew believes the location of the crash is significant; two of the men who claim Kearns abused them as children live in the area. He says he was 'absolutely terrified' in the weeks leading up to the trial date, knowing he would be 'quizzed' on the most traumatic thing that ever happened to him. 'It was something I had to do,' he says. 'My own son was the same age as I was at that stage. I could see myself in him as a kid. That drove me on.' His motivation in testifying was to get Kearns 'taken off the streets, and not let him have the opportunity to be in the company of kids'. Andrew had considered contacting the authorities about Kearns for some time, but didn't feel he could do so until his own parents had died: 'I absolutely couldn't do anything about it while they were still alive because they had entrusted this man so deeply. It would have broken their hearts.' Neville Kearns: Scouting Ireland says Kearns ceased to be a member of the Catholic Boy Scouts of Ireland in 1976 and later established an independent youth group He was considering what to do when, at his mother's wake, he received a text message. It was Kearns. 'It was the first time I'd heard from him in over 20-odd years, sending his commiserations,' Andrew says, pausing as he recalls it. 'The neck of him.' Receiving this message angered Andrew, but it solidified his decision to contact the authorities – first Tusla, then the Garda. He thought he was 'the only one in the world' who Kearns targeted but, in recent years, found out 'it was way bigger than I'd anticipated'. 'I was shocked, flabbergasted,' he says. Chris (not his real name), one of the men who made a complaint to the Garda about Neville Kearns. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw 'Chris' speaks about the Dublin scout leader who abused him Listen | 02:42 Over several years, Kearns befriended the boys and, crucially, their parents. 'Everybody adored him, everybody thought he was just this amazing man who gave so freely of his time for the local youth who were just hanging around all summer,' says Chris*, one of the men whose complaints led to the former scout leader's prosecution. 'He was a very charismatic, attractive, friendly, gentle man – that was his persona. It was just this kind, caring person that would happily look after your kids.' On a sunny afternoon, sitting in his livingroom, Chris recalls how the 1980s were 'a completely different time'. 'Everybody was a latchkey kid in the summer in Ireland,' he says, describing carefree days when children regularly went without adult supervision. Chris was raised by a single mother. Kearns became a mentor and, ultimately, a father figure. 'I called him Dad,' he says, adding that his mother was 'delighted' he had a positive male role model in his life. 'I called him dad': 'Chris' speaks about how he was groomed and abused by Neville Kearns Listen | 02:42 He doesn't believe he was abused because his mother was a single parent who worked outside the home to provide for her family. 'I was abused because he found a vulnerability in me and exploited it,' he says. Others allegedly abused by Kearns grew up with both parents or stay-at-home mothers, he recalls. Neville Kearns in his scout uniform Chris says he knew Kearns for about a year before anything inappropriate happened. By that stage, Chris trusted him 'completely'. 'It was letters first; I'd get little notes from him and he'd tell me how much he loved me,' he says. Over time, Chris says, Kearns started to become physical with him – ultimately forcing him to carry out sexual acts on a regular basis. At the height of the alleged abuse, he says, Kearns would frequently visit his house – unbeknown to Chris's mother – and assault him during the night. He would then 'hide under the bed until he could sneak out in the morning'. Chris describes the sexual acts perpetrated against him as 'horrific'. They had a 'profound impact' on his emotional state. 'He made me feel like I was the one who wanted it. It's very difficult to get past those emotions,' he says. 'I loved him as a father. I suppose that's why it all unwound for me as soon as I had kids. Fathers don't have sex with their children. What the hell was he doing?' Eileen Finnegan, a psychotherapist who helped Chris through intensive therapy, says the alleged grooming in this case is typical of predators; befriending boys and their families over a prolonged period of time so, when it finally happened, the abuse 'totally blindsided people'. 'The power and control and the level of grooming that he was able to do – he was absolutely systematic in what he was doing. He knew exactly what he was doing,' she says. Eileen Finnegan, psychotherapist and former clinical director of the charity One in Four. Photograph: Alan Betson Finnegan has extensively researched this area and previously served as the clinical director at One in Four, a charity that supports survivors of childhood sexual abuse. She says it is common for survivors of abuse to compartmentalise what happened to them – or block it out completely. 'For the mental wellbeing of the person, the brain actually comes in and splits off because it is so traumatic. It's a huge coping mechanism,' she says. [ View that child sex abuse is a thing of the past 'has allowed it to persist', says charity Opens in new window ] It is also relatively common for people not to disclose what happened to them until after their parents have died. Finnegan says survivors of abuse can find it difficult to tell their loved ones, especially parents, because it's usually them who welcomed the offenders into the family home. 'No child comes over with an adult and says: 'Mam and Dad, I'm after bringing a friend home for you.' It is mostly Mam and Dad there with a neighbour or friend or somebody that has begun to acquaint themselves with the family,' she says. Chris says that, while processing what had happened to him through therapy, he realised that it was unlikely he was the only one who had been targeted by Kearns. 'With the awful clarity of hindsight, I now look back at photographs from that time and I can identify the children [Kearns] likely targeted,' he says. The three men interviewed by The Irish Times say they were assaulted in numerous locations – often on camping trips. On several occasions, they claim, Kearns got them drunk on rum or port. Chris says the sexual acts perpetrated against him had a 'profound impact'. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw 'If I smell [rum] now, it makes me go somewhere, so I don't touch it,' says Michael*, another of those whose complaints led to the criminal prosecution being taken against Kearns. Michael says he was regularly abused on camping trips and at Kearns's house. On one occasion, he and other boys were visiting St Joseph's School For Deaf Boys in Cabra for a 'sleepover'. Kearns allegedly kept giving the boys mugs of rum. Michael got very drunk and remembers being carried out of the room. 'When I woke, it was in his private room. It still sends a shiver down my spine as to what happened that night,' he says. 'How many other boys, vulnerable boys, ended up there?' Becoming emotional, Michael says the abuse lasted for several years and he 'prayed' it would end. On multiple occasions as an adult, he 'pointed the car in the direction of Dundrum Garda station and started to drive'. 'But I never made it,' he says. In 2019, while sitting at home one evening, Michael told his wife what had happened to him as a child. 'I just blurted it out ... within an hour, we were at the Garda station,' he recalls. He didn't realise that, at around the same time, other men were also contacting the Garda or Tusla about Kearns. Ultimately, a case file was prepared for the office of the DPP, which agreed there was enough evidence to proceed with a trial. 'I categorically know that there are other men out there who have suffered at his hands but haven't come forward or, if they've come forward, they decided not to press charges,' Michael says. Whether they choose to contact gardaí or not, he adds, these men should seek support from a loved one or professional – if they feel ready to do so. Neville Kearns as a scout leader A spokesman for An Garda Síochána said the first statement of complaint they received about Kearns was made in May 2019. He was 'arrested and interviewed on several occasions' in relation to complaints made by five men, he added. 'Anyone who believes they may have been a victim or have knowledge of an alleged crime is encouraged to contact any Garda station,' the spokesman said. 'Victims can be assured that they will be supported and heard. An Garda Síochána will treat all reports sensitively and in confidence.' A spokeswoman for Scouting Ireland said that according to its records, Kearns ceased to be a member of the Catholic Boy Scouts of Ireland in 1976 and was not affiliated with any of the legacy scout organisations after that time. (The Catholic Boy Scouts of Ireland and Scout Association of Ireland merged to form Scouting Ireland in 2004.) [ Embattled Scouting Ireland board 'exhausted' by infighting, review finds Opens in new window ] She noted that Kearns established an independent youth group 'which was not authorised by, or affiliated to, the legacy scouting organisations'. 'Individuals who were members of [this group], and believed it to have been an official scout group, came forward disclosing abuse to Scouting Ireland in 2019 and 2020,' she said. The spokeswoman said Scouting Ireland recognises the men's 'bravery in speaking out', adding that the organisation has paid for counselling services. 'We encourage any individual who experienced abuse while in scouting to report the matter to the appropriate authorities or to Scouting Ireland's safeguarding team.' Neville Kearns on a scouting trip St Joseph's School for Deaf Boys no longer exists. It amalgamated with St Mary's School for Deaf Girls to form a new school, Holy Family School for the Deaf, in 2016. A spokeswoman for the new school said it 'adheres rigorously' to child protection legislation and guidelines. Tusla, the Child and Family Agency, said it cannot comment on individual cases but encouraged people to come forward if they needed support. As he reflects on the fact that a trial will now never take place, Chris says Kearns's death meant that 'he could just disappear into the footnotes of history without a trace'. Imagining what he would have said to Kearns in court, he says: 'You had the opportunity to face up to what you had done but you chose not to, and so you have left a despicable legacy of abuse over decades. How many more children did you violate? When did you stop? Did you stop? We will never know – that secret has gone to the grave with you, as your final act of cowardice.' Fourteen months on, pieces of shattered glass from Kearns's van still sit at the foot of the maple tree he crashed into in Churchtown. The men deprived of their day in court and the justice they sought will be picking up the pieces for years to come. * Names have been changed to protect the interviewees' identities ** Reporter Órla Ryan can be contacted at ** If you have been affected by anything in this story, please contact One in Four by e-mailing info@ or calling 01 66 24070; the Dublin Rape Crisis Centre's freephone 24-Hour National Helpline can be reached by calling 1800 77 8888 * If you have had a similar experience, you can share this using the form below.
Irish Examiner
4 hours ago
- Irish Examiner
Gareth O'Callaghan: A woman's house should be a home – not a place of fear and fatal control
A wise man in criminal law once told me that a defendant who has pleaded not guilty to a crime he knows he committed fears nothing more during his trial than the eyes of the judge. Perhaps that explains why Richard Satchwell rarely looked up at the bench during the trial that found him guilty of the murder of his wife. A chilling silence descended on the packed courtroom at the Central Criminal Court last Wednesday morning just as Mr Justice Paul McDermott handed down the mandatory life sentence to the former lorry driver. I wondered what Satchwell must have been thinking as he kept his head bowed – if he felt remorse; then I realised that a man who had hidden his wife's body for six years in a secret grave he dug under the stairs of their home, while courting national publicity in an attempt to convince people he loved her, and would give anything to welcome her home, was emotionally stunted. His only regret was that he got caught. Did he love his wife? It's possible. Love is just one ingredient that feeds into a narcissistic relationship, and the coercive control he exerted on their marriage. Richard Satchwell leaving the District Court in Cashel, Co Tipperary, in October 2023. Did he love his wife? It's possible. Love is just one ingredient that feeds into a narcissistic relationship, and the coercive control he exerted on their marriage. File picture It's not the type of love most decent people understand. It's a love perverted that stems from slavish ownership, with terms and conditions that become more brutal as time passes. Sexual jealousy, anger and control are a deadly cocktail. Self-absorbed and selfish, Satchwell now takes his place in that rogues' gallery of notorious wife killers who include, among others, Joe O'Reilly, Brian Kearney, and Eamonn Lillis. O'Reilly murdered his wife Rachel in 2004 by bludgeoning her to death with a dumbbell, while staging it to look like she had disturbed a burglar who panicked and killed her. His appearance on The Late Late Show, sitting beside Rachel's mother, as he suggested 'theories' to an incredulous Pat Kenny on who could have murdered his wife, was a jaw-dropping moment in television history. Joe O'Reilly's (right) appearance on The Late Late Show, sitting beside Rachel's mother (left), as he suggested 'theories' to an incredulous Pat Kenny on who could have murdered his wife, was a jaw-dropping moment in television history. File picture: RTÉ/Rose Callaly He even showed journalists down the dimly-lit hallway to the bedroom in their home where he had murdered his wife barely three weeks earlier, as though it was a magical mystery tour. Her murder was meticulously planned, or so he thought. Siobhán McLaughlin was murdered by her husband Brian Kearney in 2006, while her three-year-old son played downstairs. Kearney strangled his wife in her bedroom with the flex of a vacuum cleaner, before trying to hoist her over the en-suite door in an attempt to make it look like suicide. He then locked the bedroom door, slipped the key under it, and left, leaving the three-year-old alone in the house. Siobhán was in the process of 'trying to leave a very unhappy marriage' when Kearney murdered her, her sister Brighid told Newstalk. She had even taken to hiding money in the hot press so that she could eventually escape from her husband's abuse. Kearney was refused parole last year. Eamonn Lillis beat his wife, Celine Cawley, to death with a brick in 2008, making it appear – like O'Reilly – as though she had disturbed a burglar. Following his release in 2015, Lillis picked up more than €1 million from his share of business and property assets owned by the couple. He served barely five years for the manslaughter of his wife. He now lives abroad. What's equally damning is that the attacker in each of these killings could have stopped his vicious assault and called for immediate help while his victim was alive, but didn't. In Lillis's case, he delayed calling an ambulance by almost 15 minutes to give him time to change out of his bloodied clothes and hide them. Following his release in 2015, Eamonn Lillis picked up more than €1 million from his share of business and property assets owned by the couple. Photo: Julien Behal/PA So if they loved them, then why did they kill them? Why not just call it quits and walk away? Why would a husband kill his wife when the chances of avoiding a conviction and prison sentence are massively stacked against him? According to recent statistics from Women's Aid, 275 women have died violently in Ireland at the hands of men since 1996 – an average of nine women every year. 87% were killed by a man they knew. 179 of them were killed in their own homes. Lucy Freeman, the American writer best known for her articles on psychiatry and mental health in The New York Times, once wrote: 'Murder is the apex of megalomania, the ultimate in control.' Her words resonate with relationships that are hinged on coercive control, where the man demands to know his female partner's whereabouts at all times, where social connections to family and friends are discouraged, where freedom of movement is restricted. Years of research has shown that it's mostly inadequate men with fragile egos who kill women. They hate their own vulnerability, which can only be overcome by the subordination of others – mostly their wives and female partners. Sarah, the partner of a close friend, agreed to talk to me recently about her former husband who she eventually left after years of physical and emotional abuse, including a threat to her life that finally made her realise he might kill her. 'It was only in hindsight, when I'd left him and it was all over, I realised I'd lost contact with everyone. If my mother asked us over, he'd always find an excuse. "'We're not going,' he'd tell me. He wouldn't allow me socialise with them. He refused to give me money, even though I paid all the bills out of my own wages. If I walked the dog, he'd follow me. 'Anytime I disagreed with him, or if I tried to defend myself, I'd get the silent treatment for days. Then he'd force me to say sorry. Whenever he hit me or kicked me, he'd pretend to be upset and apologise. 'Why don't you hit me back? You'll feel better,' he'd say. "Some days I came home from work to find he'd emptied the fridge of the little treats I liked; then he'd tell me I'd eaten them – 'because you're a fat pig,' he'd say laughing. 'One day I overheard him saying to someone on the phone that he'd kill me, if only he could get away with it. I packed what I could and went back home to my mother.' Richard Satchwell now takes his place in Ireland's rogues' gallery of notorious wife killers. File picture I asked Sarah if she had ever told him she would leave him. 'It was all I thought about but I was terrified to tell him. I actually thought he'd kill me on the spot. I left in the middle of the night when I knew he was asleep.' Research shows the time of highest risk for a potential victim is during the period where she has made it known she plans to end the marriage. That's almost always the trigger for the abuser because the person they have so successfully controlled for years is now choosing to leave them. Richard Satchwell told gardaí his wife had 'mentioned 200 or 300 times over the previous 15 years' that she was going to leave him, but, as with the rest of this tragic story, we only have his word for this. Even after leaving her abuser, a woman is still not safe – as the tragic case of Australian Hannah Clarke showed in 2020. Clarke was stalked by her former partner Rowan Baxter, who doused her and their three children in petrol and burnt them to death in the family car before killing himself. It's hard to believe that the family home is the most dangerous place in the world for women (and children), when it should be the safest. It's far more effective to disrupt violent male partners than it is to change them. That disruption can only come from family or friends who detect a shift in behaviour. If you're being shut out by someone you love, you have a duty to them to know why. A strong indicator that all's not well in the life of your daughter – or your sister or friend – is that persistent feeling you get that something is just not right. Act on it. At least you'll always know you asked. If you don't, it could be the cross you'll bear for the rest of your life.
