http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wg4i_2ysDWI

The Mary Lynch murder trial: Crime of passion or retribution?

Sunday, April 08, 2012

HOW did the executive officer of the largest commercial bank in Jamaica really die? Did he just disappear from off the face of the earth as his wife would have everyone, including the police, believe? Did he go off to Kentucky to gamble on the horses, while the bank hierarchy waited in frustration for answers, if what his wife, Mary, suggested was the truth?
Where was Leary Lynch?
Mary Lynch raises her hands in the air as she is freed on parole from the Fort Augusta prison on May 18, 2007 after serving her sentence for the murder of her husband.
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This tragic story unfolded in the No 1 Home Circuit Court with the then Deputy Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP) Paula Llewellyn prosecuting. She now holds the substantive post of director.
A mixed jury of 12, after hearing this heart-wrenching tale of a woman who made the biggest mistake in her life, had no option but to find that she maliciously ended her husband’s life. Thus, she ended up with a death sentence!
And sadder still was the fact that the husband, whose life she had destroyed, had made a will making her the beneficiary of almost all he had — an estate worth some $40 million; his only other asset, a Mercedes Benz motor car, was left for his only sister. Mary Lynch, therefore, upon conviction, forfeited all rights to her deceased husband’s estate.
Luckily for her, in this country women are never hanged; even before 1988 when the last convicted person went to the gallows at Spanish Town, St Catherine.
The year is 1993. All appears well.
Leary Lynch, one of the National Commercial Bank’s (NCB’s) executive officers, is residing in affluent Jack’s Hill, St Andrew, with his tall, attractive, young and vivacious wife, Mary. Hailing from the rural district of Linstead, St Catherine, Mary had been a bank clerk with NCB previously, but had won the favour of, let us say, her ‘Prince Charming’; and had gone off, after a fabulous wedding, to live happily ever after. Or so it seemed.
But then, slight ripples began to appear in the land where lovers sit holding hands under moonlit stars, dreaming of never ending the dream. For suddenly, they wake up to find the real world — the world you and I make for ourselves.
Rumours began to swirl in bank circles that being a rural girl and not being as qualified as her husband, she was finding it difficult to adjust to “the social circle”. It was alleged that on many occasions when the bank hosted cocktail parties, at which the couple attended, Mary would throw tantrums if it appeared to her that any female bank employee was paying undue attention to her husband. In the end, it was said, Leary Lynch stopped taking his wife to bank functions. She became resentful.
At the same time, Leary Lynch, according to the bank, devoted his time to the organisation. He was regarded by the top echelon of the bank as a responsible officer, punctual and efficient. It was said he never missed a board meeting.
He was known to visit his farm in Linstead on weekends, accompanied by his handyman. He reared horses and other animals there. He also grew oranges and cashew and was known to use the fleshy part of the fruit — the cashew — to brew a very potent drink. That is the script given to the police.
Come a new week. The sun is shining. The doors of the bank are opened early. Business is brisk. The officers of the bank are already in the conference room. But one officer is missing. It is Leary Lynch. Several calls to his house go unanswered, till finally, Mary answers.
Where is Leary?
“Oh, he has gone to Kentucky (race track in the USA) to gamble on the horses.”
It was common knowledge to persons inside the bank that Leary Lynch loved horses and horse racing, but as to leaving for Kentucky without informing his seniors at the bank, that was so out of character. No one believed it.
More time passed and the police were called in. Surveillance of the house started. It was locked up tight; no one was in sight.
Finally, at about 9:30 one night, a white car drove up slowly. Mary alighted and was creeping towards the premises when she was held, put in a police vehicle and whisked away to the Constant Spring Police Station.
A team of policemen, headed by then Detective Senior Superintendent Isadore ‘Dick’ Hibbert, later Asst Commissioner for Crime, took charge of the investigation. Other members of the team were: Det Inspector Lester Howell, Inspector John Gauze, Inspector Trevor Chin (deceased); and Sergeant Campbell. All these policemen were later promoted; Det Insp Howell has since retired.
The journal of Snr Supt Isadore Hibbert
We headed to the Lynch residence in Jack’s Hill expecting to find Mrs Lynch. No one was at home. This was after I personally met with top officers of the bank, had discussions with them as well as the bank’s top security officer at the time and former Commissioner of Police Mr Herman Ricketts (now deceased).
The house was a three-storey structure. All doors and windows were securely locked. A ladder was found. Access was gained by forcing a window open. Inside, there was no doubt in my mind that this was a crime scene.
The flooring showed signs of being recently scrubbed; however, blood stains could be seen on furniture, in crevices on the floor and traces of blood on the ceiling of one of the rooms. In this room, pieces of furniture were rearranged. There was a cutlass on the steps of the second floor, leading to the top floor.
On the stove in the kitchen was a pot full of half-cooked or partially cooked cashew sap in preparation for Mr Lynch’s ‘favourite brew’. The air-conditioning units were going at full blast. There were signs of burning outside in the yard, beside a very high concrete wall. In the washroom outside were several partially used mops with buckets of dirty water.
I was satisfied that foul play had taken place in that house. We did house-to-house investigation and learned the following:
1. On the evening that Leary returned from his farm out in the country, it had rained heavily.
2. A schoolboy living in close proximity to the Lynches’ home told us that at about 10:00 on the night in question, he heard a ‘shriek’ coming from that house — a ‘shriek’ he described as so agonising, he would never forget it as long as he lived. He was certain it was a man’s voice. Unfortunately, because he was a minor, his mother refused to allow him to testify.
3. Neighbours saw a large fire that night by the fence of the property and called the fire brigade.
4. On the arrival of the fire brigade, Mary Lynch was reportedly seen attending to the fire; she told them all was well; she was merely doing ‘a little spring cleaning’. They returned to base.
5. No one saw Mrs Lynch leave the premises or return since Leary turned up missing. Her car was nowhere in sight.
6. The Water Commission had been instituting water lock-offs in the area during that period; it was clear to me that was what resulted in the poor attempt at ‘cleaning up’.
Where is Leary Lynch?
Important questions needed to be answered, among them:
a) Where was Mrs Lynch?
b) Why did she disappear from her residence?
c) What had happened to Leary Lynch?
The house was put under surveillance. Instructions were given that should Mrs Lynch turn up at the residence, she should be detained and I should be informed immediately. About 10:30 that night I received a telephone call that she had been detained whilst attempting to enter her home. As instructed, she was escorted to the Constant Spring Police Station. I arrived there within minutes.
Mrs Lynch was escorted to the CIB Office. She appeared haggard, restless and untidy. I observed that she was suffering from a severe incised wound on the top of her right foot. The foot was swollen and appeared septic.
Since the report made to me was one of a ‘missing person’, and whilst there was suspicion of murder, no body had been found. We questioned her as to her whereabouts over those several days. She gave the name and address of a young lady friend with whom she said she had stayed.
Asked how she came by the wound on top of her foot, she said that a drinking glass fell, broke and caused the wound. When asked if she knew the whereabouts of her husband, her startling reply was:
“You asking me ’bout husband? Me hungry. I could eat a good Chinese food from Jade Garden (the top-flight Chinese eatery) right now.”
Mrs Lynch was, at that stage, advised that her husband had been reported missing and that it seemed to me that she was not anxious to assist us in finding him. The lady said she was tired and not feeling well. We ended the interview.
The following day, she was medically examined by the Government Medical Officer (police). He found that the wound was self-inflicted, consistent with a machete wound; also it was consistent with having been inflicted on the date Leary returned home from his farm.
That same day, the police party, along with a team of experts — including forensic scientists — checked the car belonging to Mary Lynch for blood stains and other clues. The house was checked for blood stains. Human blood was detected on fragments of burnt carpet and clothing; mops and buckets with water used in the cleaning process. A number of items were seized and taken to the forensic laboratory for further tests.
Now we were further convinced that Leary Lynch was murdered. However, in order to establish murder, the body had to be found. Where was Leary Lynch’s body? That was the big question.
Help was sought via the news media — radio, TV, newspaper advertisements — appealing for information about this ‘missing person’. A reward of $100,000 was offered. We received a number of tips concerning burnt skeletons. Some turned out to be human, some animals; but nothing of Leary Lynch.
Another interview was scheduled for Mrs Lynch at the Constant Spring Police Station. She had, by then, secured the services of a team of attorneys, headed by Anthony Pearson. The interview was aborted after her lawyers advised that she was not feeling well.
I sensed they were stalling, buying time.
I later received information that some person/persons who were said to practise obeah or voodoo could offer evidence in the case.
With this bit of information in hand, I caused inquiry to be made near and far, in order to find those obeah practitioners.
Three were located — two brothers from the parish of St Mary in rural Jamaica and a woman from Vineyard Town in Kingston. All three were brought to the CIB headquarters in Kingston to be interviewed by me. They were kept separately in the Flying Squad office downstairs. My office then was on the upper floor. I decided to interview the younger brother first.
He was clean-cut, immaculately dressed; well-spoken and cheerful. He told me of the large number of people who came to see him from time to time; that on Sundays, people in cars from all over Jamaica arrived and lined up on the road where he lived, in order to see him. He described business as “flourishing”.
However, he did not know Mary Lynch or anyone fitting her description to have visited him recently. He was allowed to leave.
I sent for the other brother. He had to be helped to my office. He was unkempt, untidy, with a long, matted grey beard. His finger and toenails appeared as if they had never been cut; they were like claws. He appeared nervous and was shaking. I presumed he thought he was being interviewed in connection with practising obeah.
I greeted him cordially and tried to put him at ease. He said: “Officer, me sick with me heart,” apparently, seeking sympathy.
I informed him I was aware that he was an obeah man and that people came to him from time to time, seeking help. I asked him if a woman named Mary Lynch had been to see him recently.
He said many persons came to see him, both male and female, but he could not recall anyone named Mary Lynch. He then went on to relate to me and my team, his many experiences. We had a good laugh and I told him he could go.
Believe it or not, the man got up and walked towards the door, looking fit and strong, even more ‘zippy’ than his younger brother.
The obeahwoman died of fright!
The female obeah practitioner was downstairs, awaiting her turn to be interviewed by me. I phoned downstairs and instructed an officer to escort her to my office. The officer in charge of the Flying Squad advised her that the assistant commissioner would be interviewing her concerning Mrs Lynch and the death of her husband. He was about to cause her to swear on the Bible to tell me ‘the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth’.
But suddenly one of the detectives rushed to my office in a frenzy, saying: “ACP Hibbert, the woman is dead.”
I thought he must be joking and said so. The reply was: “No sir. From the moment we told her she was going to your office to be interviewed, she started perspiring and beads of cold sweat appeared on her forehead. She said she was feeling bad, collapsed and died.”
I gave instructions to have her rushed to the Kingston Public Hospital where a doctor pronounced her dead. The post-mortem report indicated that she died from a heart attack. So much for obeah and obeah practitioners.
Next week: The conclusion of the Mary Lynch murder trial
Sybil E Hibbert is a veteran journalist and retired court reporting specialist; she is also the wife of retired ACP Isadore Hibbert. Send comments to [email protected]

Read more: http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/news/The-Mary-Lynch-murder-trial–Crime-of-passion-or-retribution_11225431#ixzz1zBqgrGpt

Lawd woieee…Why mi go ask question lastnight hee man? Di man seh mi fi big up di entertainer whey deh pan di border line kaws a she seh ooman and man to har ting. Big har up bekaw she mek up har mind and married di son………..hayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy my body…Yes dem seh she married di son and fi har offspring don’t like di man needa di  res a di family..Me haffi big har up bekaw mi did tink she confuse kaw up to last year dem seh dere was a ooman and a she seh cancel out all oman and stay wid di son..I is wondering if all di oomanizing dun..pan di female side..Di street seh di son who is now di husband…rob up some money and do har dirty………….nuh mussy das why she always a pudung man ina di song dem…mmhmm but di man put up wid nuff because she nuh ramp fi dun him verbally and dem always a seh him itch pan between har gap…so she move him rite up gold teet front teet full fledge  husband yah now……..heh hayyyyyyyyyyyyyy..everybaddie a bus secret marriage but a hope unno change unno eating habit because tuh much mixchuh ina di ches cause cholic

THEY SAID KARTEL WILL BE RELEASED TODAY SO LET SEE HOW THE DAY GOES

Dear Taiwo.
HOW would I explain a mother out of the blue? How am I supposed to accept this reality?
I am 38 years old and to the glory of God, I have a good, loving husband, two lovely kids, a good job and a good life.

I never missed a mother, since the only mother I knew died six years ago. This funny and sad experience started December last year when I went to visit a friend, who had just had a baby. I hadn’t seen her in a long time; we were mates at the university. We studied the same course and were inseparable while in school.

We got married the same year, but unfortunately, she was not blessed with the fruit of the womb early like I was blessed.

She had to travel overseas for treatment. She came back home with a bouncing baby boy to the joy of everybody. I went to see her and I noticed an elderly woman who she introduced as the new housekeeper her mum had got for her to help around in the house. I greeted the woman and did not think about her again.
Funny enough, when I was leaving, my friend’s mum made a comment that she noticed some kind of resemblance between the

housekeeper and I. It sounded funny. If these words were from somebody else, I could have taken offence, but Seeni’s (that is my friend’s name) mum is like a mother to me. We were so close and since my mother died, I had always turned to her for motherly advice.

I went to see Seeni several times after that; even after her mum had left, I always avoided her house- keeper. We call her Sisi Mi.
I don’t really know why, call it intuition, but I always felt that she was always staring at me, and once or twice when I was left in the same room with her, I really felt very uncomfortable.

At a point, I started to ask myself why I felt that way and concluded that it was probably because of Seeni’s mum’s statement.

One, I cannot stop going to see my friend because of Sisi Mi, so I decided to ignore her and whatever she represented.

Early last month, Seeni asked if I knew Sisi Mi from anywhere, I said no. Where would I know Mama Londoner, I asked her? Apart from calling her Sisi Mi, we call her Mama Londoner. She had stayed in London for many years. Only God knows what happened to her to warrant the type of life she is living now. One day, Seeni said she would ask her, but I advised against prying into her affairs because I was of the opinion that if she wanted her to know anything she would speak with her about it. I never knew that what she would say about her past would involve me.

Early last month — February, Seeni called me late in the night and informed me that Sisi Mi asked her for my number. “What for?”, I asked. “How would I know”? Seeni replied me. I asked her to give her the number, I was also curious to know why she wanted my number.

After my discussion with Seeni, I told my husband what we discussed. He was of the opinion that something probably happened between Sisi Mi and Seeni and she might want to report my friend to me. I was confused because if she had a quarrel with Seeni she wouldn’t ask her for my number. Whatever, it was, I concluded, I would listen to her whenever she called.

Two days after Seeni spoke with me, Sisi Mi called and asked to have an audience with me. What for? I asked her. She told me it wasn’t an issue we could discuss on telephone. I said I would get back to her since I had her number.

I wondered why she wanted to see me. My curiosity got the better of me, but I decided I wouldn’t allow her to come to my house, since I didn’t want any undue familiarity.

I called her back and we agreed to meet in my church on her next day off, which was the following Saturday.

She was already waiting at the church when I got there. She looked much tensed up and I wondered why. I never knew she was about telling me something that would change my history.

I invited her into my car, because I thought, “whatever she was going to say, let me hear it first hand”. Thank God I did that because if I hadn’t, maybe every member of my church would have known my story by now. Definitely, those who were around would have spread the story.

It was a hot day, so I rolled up and switched on my car engine so I could use the air conditioner. I thought it was an issue we would discuss under 30 minutes and we would be through, but we ended up spending almost two hours.

I had to ask her to start from somewhere, because she said, “I don’t know where to begin” three times.

Her first word and question startled me. “Do you know so so and so?”, She asked me. She mentioned my mother’s maiden name.”Yes”, I answered her, she was my mother and she’s deceased. “Dead?”, she echoed, and when I answered yes, she started crying. Why Sisi Mi? “Do you know her?”, Do I know her? She asked three times. “Yes, I did”, she said, she was my only sister.

“Your sister?, I asked her, how do you mean?” I asked her again. “I am sure she must have mentioned to you that she had a sister called Clara, didn’t she?”. Yes, I said. “Well, I am Clara,” she replied.

You are Clara?, I asked her again. “Yes, I am”, she replied.

When she said that, I looked at her again and it was then I realised what Seeni’s mum said. She actually resembled my mum and I must have looked like her too.

She opened her purse and brought out some pictures of herself and my mother. When I looked at the pictures, I started crying, because some of the pictures were with my mother too. She had them in her album which I still have with me.

Immediately, I remembered the story my mother told me few months before she passed on. Could this woman, Sisi Mi, be my biological mother?

I have always known mum as my mother and to the glory of God, I lacked nothing and if she were to be my biological mother, I couldn’t have asked for a better life.

She had no children of her own and I was treated like their own child by both dad and mum. Dad died 10 years before mum. I never knew the end was near for her, when she called me on her sick- bed and told me about myself.

As at the time she told me, I asked why she was telling me all these, I told her I would never recognise another woman as my mother and there would never be a place for another mother in my life, and, believe me, I meant just that.

Mum told me amidst tears that her only surviving sister, who she believed was still living, gave birth to me.

Their mother (my own grandmother) gave birth to just two of them and my mother came almost 11 years after her. When their mother died, she had the responsibility of taking care of her sister. And, of course, her sister moved in with her when she married dad. Her sister became pregnant with me when she was in her second year at the School of Nursing. She advised her to leave me with her from the time I was 40 days and go back to school, which she did.

Mum told me that I was barely six months old when she became pregnant for another man and eloped with him to the UK, leaving me behind for her to take care of. According to her, she got in touch with her at the initial stage, but later, she stopped communicating. On her sickbed, that day she told me the story, she prayed as she always did that wherever her sister was, God should keep her safe and that she would locate me so that I wouldn’t be alone.

As mum was telling me this story, we were both weeping. I told her I had always loved her and would continue to love her. I didn’t need any mother. I also wanted to know why she told me she said it was important for me to know who I was and she also wanted me to hear if from her and not from any other person. It didn’t change who I was. Mum and dad adopted me when I was seven years old. Thank God, because I was their only child, and I did not miss anything while growing up. If anything, I had the best childhood any child could hope for.

So this is the sister who left me. Now how does it feel to come back 38 years after? She didn’t know why I was crying, maybe she felt I cried because she was crying or because of mum’s demise.

“What do you want from me I asked her?
“Please, my daughter, I can explain”.

“Your daughter? Did I hear you say? I beg your pardon”

“WHAT do you want from me”, I asked her? “Please, my daughter, I can explain”. “Your daughter? Did I hear you say?,” I beg your pardon. “Please, hear me out,” she replied.
“I am not asking for anything, you might even refuse to forgive me, I don’t mind, but please, all I ask of you is to hear me out.

“I might not have a say in whatever concerns you, but I am happy that I left you with my sister. She did what I could never dreamt of doing. If you had lived with me, I cannot beat my chest that you would have had things this good”.

“Enough of that, tell me whatever you have to say”, I don’t have much time, I told her.

“Titilayo, she said. I wondered who told her my name; life could be cruel. I am not excusing myself from any blame, but sometimes, you do things that you live to regret for the rest of your life.

“I am sure my sister must have told you I got pregnant and ran away with my boyfriend then who promised to marry me, and then I believed that going away with him would be a better deal than staying behind and facing the shame.

“As for your father, he was a happily married man who wanted nothing to do with me the moment he learnt I was pregnant. I was not totally naive not to know what to do with an unwanted pregnancy, when I realised I was pregnant. This made it difficult for me to attempt an abortion.

“So, it was, indeed, a shameful thing for me to become pregnant again, just six months after you were born. I felt lucky because my doctor boyfriend then promised to marry me.
“Let me tell you that he did not pay my fare to England. He actually lent me the money for my ticket. As soon as we arrived England, pregnant or not, I had to work and refund his money.

Of course, I stopped schooling and eventually lost the pregnancy when stress and pressure were too much.

“I worked my way to send Godwin, that was his name, to school and after he graduated, he quarrelled with me, sent me packing and married a lady from his home town. He is from Edo State.

“His excuse was the fact that I could not give him children. I was unable to conceive again due to the complications which arose after I lost the pregnancy.

“I stopped communicating with my sister after Godwin threw me out. This was because I used to tell her what I was going through and she advised me several times to leave and return home when I could, but I refused. In fact, Godwin’s issue generated a big quarrel between us. So when the relationship broke up, I stopped communicating with her for the fear of an “I told you so.”

“I had other relationships but my inability to conceive always ended the relationship, I could have married a white man if I wanted, but I never liked them.

“I came back to Nigeria a wealthy woman, but unfortunately, I was duped by a 419 guy, who was supposed to be my boyfriend.

“It was after I lost everything that I realised there were no friends. All my friends left and since I had no formal training, I resorted to the baby sitting job I baby sat in England several times so I had no problem with babies.

“I saw you and I knew I couldn’t miss who you were.

“I am not asking you to see me otherwise or forgive me, but talking about this burden I have carried for so long made me feel better”.

We sat together for a long time, not saying anything. I still don’t know what to do with her information. I haven’t been able to share it with my friend or husband.

I haven’t been to Seeni’s house , because I don’t know how I would react to Sisi Mi.

Seeni and my husband had asked what she wanted to see me for, but I told them I would talk about it later.

My husband is becoming very worried. Please, how do I handle this situation

Titilayo

• 16 minutes ago · Like
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  Cedella Marley Diana leap off this ledge with brightness and JOY..we loved you then…and we still love you now..nothing change..you have an amazing talent…voice..and we love u…who u love…dont let them change you or try to rearrange you…we have one life to live so go to hell if what your thinking is not right..Love will always leave us alne

  a few seconds ago · Like