A Dream of Death Page 3
A careful garda inspection of the property revealed that nothing was missing. Sophie’s passport, purse, bank cards and cash were all accounted for. The keys to her rental car were also found in the property. The house was not furnished with items of obvious value, given its use as a holiday home, but, even still, nothing was missing, and all the furnishings were accounted for. There was no sign of a break-in and no indication of a disturbance within the property itself. Detectives instinctively believed robbery was not the motive in the killing. In a somewhat unsettling discovery, Sophie had been reading a book of collected poems by the Irish poet William Butler Yeats. The gardaí discovered the book, lying inside the house where Sophie had left it, open at the page of the poem ‘A Dream of Death’.
While the full results of the post-mortem would not be known for 24 to 48 hours, there was an early indication – subsequently proved to be correct – that the mother of one had not been subjected to any type of sexual assault. But that did not entirely rule out the possibility that the killer may have had a sexual motive, which had been ultimately frustrated.
Initially, gardaí had more than 50 different lines of inquiry. They also had around a dozen persons of interest. But the number was whittled down very quickly as those questioned had alibis or were clearly not involved. At first, gardaí focused on whether anyone might have held a grudge against the French woman. It quickly became apparent that Sophie had a very limited circle of acquaintances in west Cork, undermining that theory. Those she knew locally were all devoted friends. Detectives realised that she simply had not spent sufficient time in west Cork to make enemies or give anyone an obvious reason to attack her. Gardaí also wondered about the timing of the attack. Very few people knew Sophie was planning on spending a few days in west Cork before Christmas – so it was practically impossible for anyone locally to have targeted her in advance. Far more likely, one garda told me years later, was that it was simply a crime of opportunity.
Detectives needed to ensure that it was a similar situation in France and that no one there had any obvious motive to harm the young woman. At the request of the gardaí, Paris gendarmes took several statements from Sophie’s family and close friends to determine if anyone had a grudge against her or if she had confided in them about having been worried about anything in the days before her murder. They were also eager to ascertain how Sophie had sounded in her last conversations with her family and friends between 20 and 22 December.
Sophie’s husband, Daniel Toscan du Plantier, gave a detailed statement to Paris police at the request of the gardaí. His statement, given to Police Commandant Jean-Louis Chaumet, outlined his life with Sophie, her visit to Ireland and his last conversation with her. He revealed he had been planning to collect Sophie from Toulouse Airport on Christmas Eve after she had flown back to France from west Cork for the festive season, with the couple planning a trip overseas to Dakar early in the new year.
I am the husband of Sophie Bouniol. She was my associate, but, from 1988, she left her work and our relationship became more intimate, we began to share a life and some years later, I married her.
Sophie was very dynamic. She was a young impulsive woman, sometimes to the point of being aggressive and would not be in the habit of letting herself be walked on. In effect, she was more than a tough character, with a strict moral code, who feared nothing.
She rather avoided the world of society and gossip and preferred the chic and popular quarters where she felt more at ease. She was passionate about African art and had produced a programme on African bondage, which was transmitted at the beginning of December 1996.
I have to say, that like all couples, disputes arose, because Sophie was not an easy person to live with. In those moments she would not hesitate to leave our home and go to her close confidante, her cousin Alexandra, who lives in Geneva.
She was equally very close to Agnes Thomas [a work colleague and friend], who was indeed a confidante. If our life as a couple was sometimes not without hitches, she still decided to have a child and had ceased to use any form of contraceptive.
She expressed the desire about four years ago to purchase a house in Ireland, in a wild and isolated area, in keeping with her character. I therefore bought, at her request and in her name, for I think 400,000 francs [IR£50,000], a house situated in the immediate proximity to Fastnet lighthouse.
Personally, I only went there once, about three or four years ago, and I was able to appreciate the beauty of the place. Sophie has told me how she loved long walks in the Irish countryside, with her books, it was her favourite pastime when she holidayed there. She used to go there three or four times a year, to holiday for a week with friends, relatives or children.
She was the mother of a boy from a previous marriage, Pierre Baudey, aged about 15 years. During her absences, the house was maintained by a woman from the village, who was called Josie [Hellen]. Because of her professional life, Sophie had only been able to go to her Irish house once [that year], in the spring, much to her regret. She had therefore decided to holiday there at the end of December, during a slack period in her work.
However, beginning on 25 December, she had to return to France to accompany me to Dakar to visit friends. She left Paris on 20 December, about 9.30 a.m., for Dublin or Cork, I am not exactly sure. I did not accompany her to the airport.
During her holidays in Ireland, she would call me every day and often very late in the evening. She did not [break] that habit and called me every day and even several times a day, without ever, for one moment, intimating any problem.
On 22 December, I was in my second home in Ambax, in Haute-Garonne, and between 11.30 p.m. and midnight, French time, I had a call from Sophie. I was, however, in a work meeting with my associates in UniFrance and I indicated to Sophie that I would call her, which I did about 12 minutes later.
When I made contact, I immediately noticed in her voice that she was on the point of falling asleep and that she was in bed. I think that during the conversation, she told me that. The conversation lasted a few minutes and dealt with trivialities and the visit she had made during the day to Mr and Mrs Ungerer, who live a few kilometres from her house.
Tomi Ungerer, who hailed from Strasbourg in France, lived in Goleen in west Cork with his wife, Yvonne. Mr Ungerer, who passed away in February 2019 at the age of 87, was an internationally renowned author and illustrator. He had written and illustrated a total of 140 books, which were published in 28 different languages. He was awarded the prestigious Legion of Honour by France in 1990 and later given the title Commander of the Legion of Honour in 2018. Tomi Ungerer also boasted arguably the highest honour an illustrator can receive, the Hans Christian Andersen Award. He was also exceptionally politically minded and had campaigned against the Vietnam War, racial segregation and social exclusion – all of which made him on obvious ally and potential work collaborator for Sophie, who held similar views. Since they first met in west Cork as proud Francophiles, Sophie became firm friends with Tomi and Yvonne Ungerer. Mr du Plantier added:
She got to know Mr Ungerer last April and had been won over by his personality and his talents as a cartoonist. I think that he is the author of cartoons for children, but with a style more suited to adults. According to what she told me, she had returned home about 9.30 p.m. I suppose the Ungerers had kept her for dinner. If not, she would have gone to a pub for a sandwich or would have had a piece of cheese and a glass of red wine.
Clearly, she was very happy with this visit and had been very ‘taken’ by Mr Ungerer, to such an extent that they formed a work project together. I am saying that in a telephone call that I received on the morning, my wife had told me she had finally intended to return to France on 24 December and that she had been able to get a seat on a flight arriving in Toulouse at 8 p.m., though she had initially anticipated returning on 25 December.
There was no particular reason for this change of plan and it was agreed that I would meet her at Toulouse–Blagnac, on the arrival of the Aer
Lingus flight. During the last telephone conversation, Sophie did not make any reference to any particular plan.
I felt she was already in her bed and was tired. I say that, to my knowledge, she did not take sleeping pills. In her Irish house, Sophie would sleep wearing a nightdress, T-shirt, pyjamas or other such [clothes]. I know that she had communication with the occupants of two other houses.
There was no history with the English people who lived there. In the case of any altercation, Sophie had such a temperament that she could fly into a rage and was not the type to offer no resistance. Equally, and in the same vein, I’m saying that, because of her character, my wife would not hide from any noise outside but would rather go out to investigate. I had been able to verify that several times.
She used to frequent the local pub, whose ambience was agreeable to her, as in Paris, where she used to frequent the popular cafés. I learned on 23 December, from a news bulletin on television, that the body of my wife was found close to the house. A few hours later I was informed by the Irish authorities.
I have absolutely no idea as to the perpetrator of the crime and do not see any possible motive for such an act, other than it being an act of violence. At no moment did she speak of receiving or inviting anybody after my telephone call.
I do not at the minute wish to say anything more. I do not have it in mind to return to Ireland. I am ready to receive, here in Paris, police officers dealing with the case, if they deem it necessary.
Statements were also taken from Sophie’s other family members as well as friends and colleagues. Gardaí also sought a statement, via French police, from Bruno Carbonnet, the artist and friend who had travelled with Sophie to west Cork several years before. The statement was given to Rouen police on 28 December 1996, five days after the murder.
Mr Carbonnet, who also worked as a teacher, had been attending an art function in France from 22 to 23 December 1996 and was also heavily involved in planning for an exhibition of his artworks the following month. He told Rouen police that he first learned of Sophie’s death from a friend who had telephoned him with the shocking news on Christmas Day. On the basis of his statement and watertight alibi, gardaí eliminated him from their inquiries. No garda document on record refers to him as ever being a suspect.
In his statement, Mr Carbonnet supported Daniel du Plantier’s view that Sophie was a strong-willed, independent woman who was ‘tough but fragile’ and who drew an instinctive link between her home in Toormore and her creative pursuits. He knew of no one who would have wanted to harm Sophie or anyone who harboured a grudge against her.
Sophie and Mr Carbonnet first met in 1992. Sophie had attended an art gallery in the centre of Paris and was introduced to him by his aunt. Shortly afterwards, the pair commenced a clandestine affair. When Sophie purchased her Toormore holiday home, with funds provided by her husband, it was Mr Carbonnet who had helped her refurbish and decorate the mountainside cottage.
Madame Toscan du Plantier was for me an intimate friend during the years 1992 and 1993. In fact, I have known her since the spring of 1992, when she was introduced to me after a work meeting at the workshop of the art centre of the Ephemeral Hospital in Paris.
We afterwards became lovers. We went to Goleen in Ireland together, to the small house where I stayed and helped her to set herself up. The first time I went over there was in the Easter of 1993, when I stayed for about a fortnight. I went there on two or three occasions and we spent the holidays there together.
When asked by Rouen police about his relationship with Sophie, Mr Carbonnet said he suspected her husband knew of their affair despite Sophie being ‘very discreet’ and ‘secretive’ about her various meetings with him in 1992 and 1993.
The last time that I went to this house in Ireland was during the summer of 1993. My affair with Sophie finished in Christmas 1993, a date on which she finished it without any warning. This end was very difficult for me.
The last occasion that I have seen her again was at a burial [of a friend] in Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris in March 1994. We had by then finished [our] relationship.
Mr Carbonnet said that, while he found the end of the relationship difficult, they had remained friendly and he had contacted Sophie by telephone in November 1996 to ask for a favour. He needed the temporary return of one of his paintings, which she had purchased during their time together. The artist was planning a special exhibition in January 1997 and required the painting for inclusion in the event. Sophie readily agreed.
The artist said it was clear that west Cork held a very special place in Sophie’s heart and that she drew inspiration from the wild landscape and nature there. He told police that she always spoke of how happy she was at Toormore, even if she planned to visit on her own. It was a special place for her and seemed to stimulate her creativity and artistic instincts.
She was a writer herself. She was secretive. The motivation for the acquisition of this house in Ireland was linked with her writing. She was someone who was tough but fragile at the same time. She sought to isolate herself from the world of the mundane because of [the] personality of her husband. Between Sophie and her husband there was in existence a type of a contract of luck for each other [a relationship based on an understanding of the career needs of the other] – she would have to be present for certain occasions defined in advance. Sophie was a woman of many facets.
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By now gardaí were satisfied that the focus of their investigation rested in Ireland and not in France. A number of preliminary lines of inquiry in Ireland had been examined and ruled out. One was any link to a series of petty thefts from holiday homes in the west Cork area, which largely involved gas canisters being taken from properties that lay empty over the winter months. The petty thefts were believed to have been carried out by an Irish national living an almost hermit-like life in west Cork, but that individual was not around Toormore on 23 December.
Another line of inquiry examined but eventually ruled out was whether there was any link to a foreign national, a German man, who had been resident in west Cork but who had left the area in early 1997. The man later died in tragic circumstances overseas, having taken his own life. But gardaí were satisfied there was no apparent link to the Toormore killing.
Detectives intensified their focus on west Cork and a special public appeal for information was issued on RTÉ television at the request of Superintendent J.P. Twomey of Bantry Garda Station. The appeal was broadcast via RTÉ’s Crimeline programme on 20 January 1997 for maximum reach and impact. In it, Chief Superintendent Noel Smith appealed for anyone with information to help west Cork gardaí with their inquiries. Specifically, he asked a female caller who had used the name ‘Fíona’ to contact gardaí again as she had potentially important information they wished to clarify.
This referred to a call received at Bandon Garda Station nine days earlier on 11 January. In the call – made from a public payphone in Cork city – the caller, named Fíona, explained that she had seen a suspicious-looking man near Kealfadda Bridge, just outside Schull and not far from Toormore, in the early hours of 23 December 1996. Fíona had been driving and had spotted the man by the roadside and noticed his unusual gait and strange appearance. She emphatically refused to give any personal details to the garda she was speaking with and ended the call.
The contact was immediately given top priority by gardaí. It was the only major piece of eyewitness testimony of anything unusual near Toormore in the hours surrounding the killing. Furthermore, if the motorist had deemed the individual sufficiently suspicious to take careful note of him, who was he and what was he doing in the area at such an early hour of the morning?
Less than 24 hours after the garda appeal on Crimeline, a second call was received at Bandon Garda Station from Fíona. This call again lasted just a matter of minutes before ending. But Fíona repeated what she had previously said about seeing a strange man at Kealfadda Bridge. She also confirmed the time as being in the early hours of 23 December.
Gardaí traced the call to a public payphone, but this time it was in Leap, 35 kilometres from Schull. Again, Fíona refused to give any personal details. But gardaí began to suspect that the woman lived in the general west Cork area and may have been travelling home when she passed Kealfadda Bridge that December evening. The use of public payphones was clearly designed to protect her identity.
A third phone call was received from Fíona three days later, on 24 January. This time she made the call from a private number. Gardaí had by now deemed tracing and identifying Fíona critical to their investigation. As a result, they took careful precautions in case she made contact again. They were now working with Telecom Éireann technicians and were able to trace the call to a property just outside Schull. Gardaí, in follow-up investigations, confirmed that Fíona was in fact a Schull shopkeeper called Marie Farrell. Detectives believed they had just received the stroke of luck they needed for this investigation.
Mrs Farrell was originally from Longford but had been running a clothes shop in Schull for some time. She lived in Schull with her husband, Chris, and their five children. For a time, the family had lived and worked in London, but they had decided to move back to Ireland for a better life for their children. The couple were hard-working and operated two adjacent stores in Schull – a clothes shop and a combined ice-cream parlour and sweet shop. They also maintained a street stall in Cork, close to the city’s famous Coal Quay.