James Kennedy may never take up the Flood tribunal's invitation to tell his life story in the witness box. But it's one remarkable story, writes Paul Cullen
He is at the centre of the Flood tribunal's investigations, yet he won't be appearing in Dublin Castle. He is a wealthy and powerful individual, yet he is virtually unknown to the public.
James Patrick Kennedy will probably never take up the tribunal's invitation to tell his remarkable life story from the witness box. The 55-year-old former estate agent, publican, company director and amusement-arcade huckster has already said he isn't coming back to Ireland to appear at Dublin Castle. Having renounced his Irish citizenship and divested himself of his Irish business interests, he is now safely holed up in the tax havens of Gibraltar and the Isle of Man.
After a lifetime of deals, some dubious, Kennedy has no intention of making his fortune available to the Revenue Commissioners. What property he hasn't passed on to members of his family he has placed offshore in complex financial structures he may hope the authorities will never unpick.
Kennedy wasn't always so retiring. He used to boast about being the "bagman" of George Redmond, the former Dublin assistant county manager who had such a special relationship with so many builders and developers. The pair would holiday together and Redmond regularly used Kennedy's cash-and-carry card, and got his week's groceries for free.
Kennedy also had a penchant for big cars, and liked to buy the Lord Mayor's D1 registration cars when they became available.
At the same time, he would brag about his influence with county councillors, chief among them Liam Lawlor, his one-time neighbour, friend and business partner.
His remarkable story starts when he was a small farmer in Abbeyleix, Co Laois, from where Lawlor's parents also hail. In the early 1970s, his farm was compulsorily purchased and the money provided the seed capital for his entry into business in Dublin.
He bought The Laurels pub in Clondalkin in 1976 and local politicians and planners soon frequented its meeting rooms. An up-and-coming young Fianna Fáil politician at the time, Mary Harney, held constituency clinics at the pub and received £1,000 to £1,500 in election funding from the publican in the 1980s. Harney says she hasn't seen or heard of Kennedy since she left Fianna Fáil.
He bought an amusement arcade in Westmoreland Street in Dublin's city centre in 1977 and used it as his business base. Already security conscious, he had steel doors installed in his office, where he frequently slept.
The Laurels went on fire twice, as did another pub to which he was linked. In 1986, Kennedy sold The Laurels for £700,000 just before the company running it went into liquidation. By then he was heavily involved in housebuilding in Lucan, the stomping-ground of his buddy Liam Lawlor. Kennedy left a trail of disputes and unpaid bills. Two of his property companies went into receivership and a development at Cooldrinagh, in Lucan, was left unfinished.
Kennedy was lucky to escape with his life during a gun attack in 1992. A gang of men broke into his house in Weston Park in Lucan during the night. Kennedy was able to close a steel door at the top of his stairs to prevent the raiders reaching him.
Shots were fired but he was unhurt. His attacker was believed to be a contractor from Belfast who hadn't been paid.
He had another lucky escape two years ago, when he almost died in a drowning accident.
After his first wife was killed in a car accident, Kennedy married Antoinette, 14 years his junior, who joined him as a director and secretary of his companies.
In the early 1970s, he built a house near the River Liffey, at Strawberry Beds in west Dublin. It had no planning permission, which meant it was virtually worthless in resale terms. But instead of ordering its demolition, the council offered £136,000 for the property. The council file on the house went missing, only to turn up in George Redmond's house years later when it was raided by the Criminal Assets Bureau.
Redmond invested in the purchase by Kennedy and another man of Ballyowen Stud in Lucan in 1980. With the help of a prominent Fianna Fáil councillor, the land was rezoned and sold three years later for a tidy profit. For years, Redmond called in to Kennedy's amusement arcade to collect bundles of cash, which he said represented the interest payments on his loan.
Kennedy is a central figure in the tribunal's current investigations into the Jackson Way controversy. In 1988, he bought a 106-acre parcel of land in Carrickmines, south Dublin from local farmer Bob Tracey.
Tracey told gardaí in 1989 that Kennedy and another man told him during the purchase negotiations that "your land is zoned agricultural and it will stay that way unless we get it in hand - we have inroads with the planning authorities".
Tracey's statement continued: "Both of them said £20,000 had to be 'thrown in' to the Fianna Fáil party for starters. There are men who have to get £10,000 each . . .' I remember that there were three men in the planning office who had to be paid £10,000." Kennedy denied the allegation and gardaí decided then that Kennedy had been merely boasting, as a business tactic.
As long ago as 1989, the gardaí identified Lawlor and Redmond as associates of Kennedy. In spite of Lawlor's denials, he and Kennedy have had numerous business dealings. Together with Scottish millionaire Harry Dobson, they invested in a multi-million pound sewage pipeline under lands in Lucan.
The two also invested in land development at Coolamber in Lucan. Beef baron Larry Goodman advanced the money for the deal to Lawlor, but says he knew nothing about the involvement of Kennedy. This project, like so many others involving Kennedy, ended in a dispute. Kennedy was also involved in property speculation in Clondalkin and Donabate.
Scrap merchant and property speculator Charles Duffy is another associate. Both he and Kennedy are under investigation by the Criminal Assets Bureau over their business dealings. A year ago Duffy paid the largest tax settlement yet, for €13.5 million to the bureau.
The full extent of Kennedy's business dealings will probably never be known. His solicitor and business partner, John Caldwell, masterminded ways of disguising his involvement in various ventures.
Kennedy now lives in a palatial €5 million mansion on the Isle of Man. The Laoisman describes himself as a British subject and even his racehorses are trained in England. His amusement arcade is held in the name of his wife and son John, and his interest in the Carrickmines land is held in trust in Liberia. While Redmond is facing corruption charges and Lawlor has spent six weeks behind bars, does Kennedy now feel he is untouchable?