THE next Minister for Justice should be called Alice. Only an Alice would be able to cope with the wondrous world which exists beyond that glittering 1960s mirror-facade in St Stephen's Green.
On Saturday, this newspaper revealed that a 59-year-old prisoner who had been charged with the repeated rape of his three daughters some 20 years before had died in Arbour Hill.
The accused man had fought a long fight to prevent charges relating to the alleged offences of two decades before being brought before the court.
That fight came to an end when Mrs Justice Susan Denham ruled that the man's dominance over his daughters had meant that they had been psychologically incapable of making a complaint against him. On Wednesday last, the man was told he would be tried, and on Friday, the Department of Justice reported that he had died of natural causes in Arbour Hill.
A terrible tale
- What a sad and terrible tale, says Alice.
Alice, he wasn't dead. He was alive. Somebody else was dead - apparently another man of a similar age-group, on similar charges and also resident in the jail. He died at 4.20a.m. on Friday "when prison records were not easily accessible", said a Department of Justice statement on Sunday. But the story was carried in Saturday morning editions of this newspaper.
There is a long time between 4.20 on Friday morning and, say, 5 p.m. on Friday, when the denizens of the Department of Justice wend their weary way home. And in all that time, it was apparently impossible to check the records and find out who was dead and who wasn't in Department of Justice custody.
- Well, nobody's perfect, observes Alice.
Indeed. But how did the families of the two men concerned feel? Were the daughters who made the allegations about their father as wrongly informed as we were about their father's (spurious) death? And what sort of weekend did they have after discovering that the truth of DoJ city is not like the truth anywhere else?
- Yes, I hadn't thought of that, says Alice. How very unpleasant.
Quite. But listen, Alice. The individuals working in DoJ city are no better and no worse than the rest of us; they find themselves working in the least efficient and probably worst-funded department in all of government.
Joyous minstrelsy
Staffing levels today are the same as they were in 1984, though the problems throughout society have multiplied tenfold; who can blame them if they are hopelessly demoralised?
- A good point, replies Alice. Must I hear more?
Yes. For not every employee in the department is necessarily feeling glum - certainly the Garda Male Voice Choir seemed a happy bunch in the photograph of their silver jubilee "concert in this newspaper on Friday morning. They are unlikely to be as happy as the woman garda who, we learn in an unrelated story on the same page, was awarded £10,000 compensation for the injury she suffered when she fell during a charity run.
- Mmm, ventures Alice, did anybody make her participate in this run? And why is the Department of Justice - i.e. you and me - responsible for what happened to her during the course of a fun-run? What injury did she suffer? Is there any way of preventing her running in future?
- Alice, dear, I don't know, but I do know she wasn't alone.
In 1995, nearly three-quarters of a million pounds was paid out in compensation to gardai, on the foot of 53 cases. A fair bit of money, you might think, Alice, but prison officers did even better - 14 of them, and two other prison employees, received almost £250,000 in compensation in the same year.
In other words, a round mil lion in compensation to Department of Justice employees in 1995; and how much in legal tees at the same time? Perhaps half that again. Oh I know, chicken-feed compared to the tribunals which have ransacked the national treasury over the past five years, but still ...
I suppose we should all be, heartened to know that public money is disbursed on both sides of the bars in DoJ city. Prisoners received almost £170,000 in compensation from the State in 1995. A woman prisoner who fell while carrying a tray in Limerick jail received over £24,000, and a man who dropped a manhole cover on his foot cost the State £10,000 in compensation and £5,000 in legal costs.
I see, says Alice. Tell me, did anyone make her carry the tray downstairs? Did anyone command him to lift the manhole cover? Or to drop it on his toes? How am I responsible for these injuries? How could I, or the State, or even poor old DoJ city, have avoided these costs?
By spending more on prison staff, perhaps, though I'm not sure how. I - or rather, my friends in DoJ city - already spent £18 million in overtime for prison officers in 1995. One officer pulled in £35,000 in that year alone.
- Enough to cover compensation costs of 3 1/2 manhole covers on felonious toes, murmurs Alice. How jolly.
Fiscal generosity
Absolutely, Alice. But this Wonderland which you will have to inhabit contains fiscal practices you will encounter nowhere else. For example, the Department of Justice pays £250,000 a year towards the running costs of the Garda representative bodies, and even gave a free £90,000 loan to a new breakaway organisation, the Garda Federation, which it does riot even recognise.
- How bizarre, says Alice. Is there the least chance it will lend me a few quid, interest-free, when I get into office? There is a house near Thurles I would rather like to buy.
Who know's? Stranger thing have happened in DoJ City. Wait till you're Minister.
- I don't think I want to be
Clever girl. Be anything in Ireland, Alice, but do not, if you value you wits, stray beyond the glass of DoJ city.