Ireland, March 1985.

A hearing is underway at a court in Dublin.

The small Victorian-era courtroom is packed with people.

A well-dressed man in his mid-forties is brought to his seat.

His wife is sitting with him.

The crowd falls silent.

He was a pillar of society.

You could tell by the people who were in the court.

This is Judge Gillian Hussie,

the judge who was about to adjudicate

on the future of this man.

There was an array of people

that you would never, never have expected to see.

Not in a criminal courtroom, anyhow.

And a very, very pleasant man

sitting in the dock.

He was quite tall and slim build.

He had slightly red hair going grey.

Everyone in that courtroom remembers the defendant very, very clearly.

Some had even travelled across the Atlantic to be there.

I remember thinking that he looked older than I thought he should.

I remember it as sort of a long pointed beard.

...