A case that seemed incapable of producing any more bizarre twists once again lived up to its billing, writes Kathy Sheridan
SHARON COLLINS went out as she came in, carrying an air of wounded dignity, leaving behind her a courtroom heaving with the speechless, the baffled and the bemused.
A case that seemed incapable of producing any more bizarre twists once again lived up to its billing: the 45-year-old mother of two, convicted in July of conspiracy to murder her lover, PJ Howard, and his two sons, listened tremulously as the same lover, plus her former husband, Noel Collins, climbed up to the witness stand to provide full-hearted support and affectionate character references, all backed up by a letter from her local bishop, Willie Walsh.
For a woman accused of adopting "Lying Eyes" as a cyber name to trawl for a hitman with triple murder on her mind, it was an impressive showing by any standards.
PJ Howard - a property investor worth €60 million, according to Garda estimates - had last been seen planting a tender kiss on Collins's lips as she sat in court in the early stages of the eight-week trial.
Given that Howard was a prosecution witness, eyebrows were sharply raised.
Later, he paid her a supportive visit in Mountjoy women's prison. Yesterday, when he arrived 50 minutes before the 11am start with his sons Robert and Niall, the courtroom filled in minutes, interest fuelled undoubtedly by a rumour that he would be providing a victim impact statement.
There were some awkward moments for Collins as Tom O'Connell, the State prosecutor, reprised the evidence against her, reminding the court, for example, of e-mails in which Lying Eyes described PJ Howard as "a real asshole" who made her life hell; at this, she cast a helpless, imploring glance across the room at PJ Howard.
Another, which urged the hitman to make Howard's death look "like suicide or natural causes", caused her to compress her trembling lips and nod an almost imperceptible "no" in his direction.
By the time O'Connell read the last one, which advised the hitman that "the two boys must be assassinated first if the scheme is to work", she seemed as close to distress as anytime in the trial.
Soon after, the issue of the victim impact statements was raised.
Tom O'Connell's reference to a "document" which "purported to be a victim impact statement" served notice that PJ Howard's statement would not be the usual offering in which victims outline the pain and suffering inflicted by the actions of the defendant.
In fact, he doubted that it complied with the relevant Act and noted disapprovingly that it had been handed in "at the eleventh hour".
He did, however, have a statement from Howard's sons, Robert and Niall, he said, which had been available "for some time, and which very succinctly sets out the traumatic effect . . .".
From all this, it was evident that PJ Howard's statement would not be offering any such evidence regarding trauma - or none inflicted by Sharon Collins at any rate.
After lunch, PJ Howard clutched a bottle of water and trudged determinedly up to the stand where he lashed out at the investigating gardaí who, he claimed, had invited his sons on October 15th to make victim impact statements, "but at no stage was the courtesy extended to me".
With a rapt court hanging on every syllable, he kept reading, mainly to say that Sharon was simply wonderful: "straightforward and honest. . . very loving and giving . . . a decent lady . . . one of the nicest people you could ever have been fortunate to know . . . I will not give up on Sharon and will have no hesitation in living with her again".
And he certainly was in no fear of her, he repeated emotionally, nor had he ever been, despite a submission to the DPP at the bail hearing - at this, he had to pause to compose himself - that he was in fear of his life.
Under cross-examination, he insisted he was "never told by anybody to make a victim impact statement", that he had "waited and waited" until he made the decision to consult his own solicitors.
As Det Sgt Moloney walked to the stand to answer this allegation, the two men crossed paths. PJ Howard paused and looked directly into the detective's face : "Don't lie", he said sharply.
By contrast, there were no personal supporters to bat for Essam Eid. His counsel outlined his health problems and said he kept himself to himself.
"You won't see any bishops coming in to say nice things about him, no one up in the stand saying 'come home'. An uncertain, unhealthy future lies ahead of him . . ."