A Dream of Death Page 5

  It was a similar situation with the peculiar individual seen outside the Schull shop, with initial statements indicating he was between five foot eight inches and five foot ten inches in height, substantially shorter than Mr Bailey, whose height is one of his most distinctive physical characteristics.

  Gardaí continued their investigation in the fading hope of getting the forensic or evidential breakthrough they so desperately needed. There were pieces of intriguing information that came to light, but nothing that represented the breakthrough they needed. One of the most bizarre developments was the discovery of a bottle of wine behind a ditch in Toormore some weeks after the murder.

  The bottle of wine was discovered, almost by accident, lying in a ditch just off the laneway that led to Sophie’s holiday home. It was discovered in March 1997, some three months after the murder, and had clearly been exposed to the weather for some time. What intrigued detectives was that the wine bottle was unopened and that it was a French vintage not stocked by any pub or off-licence in the west Cork area. Where had it come from? And who would deliberately throw away an expensive bottle of wine without having drunk it? Those were questions that subsequent forensic tests were unfortunately unable to answer for gardaí.

  It was found that the bottle of wine was worth around IR£70 (around €100 in 2020 values) and was stocked by various duty-free stores at airports around Europe. It would have been impossible for anyone to have purchased it in late 1996 in west Cork. What intrigued detectives was whether the wine had any link to Sophie’s murder and, more important, to her killer and their actions immediately after the crime.

  Sophie was known to love sitting by an open fire reading or writing while enjoying a glass of wine and some cheese. Had the wine come from her house? Was it taken by the killer on 23 December only for them to think better of it and, having carefully wiped the bottle clean, cast it into a bramble ditch, where, it was hoped, no one would ever find it? Gardaí had also carefully considered the washed wine glasses by the kitchen sink – had Sophie used two different glasses that day? Or had the second glass been linked to someone who visited her? Gardaí discounted the second theory given the extreme violence used in the killing and the absence of any sign of disturbance in the house.

  ***

  Gardaí were at times swamped with information that, while initially tantalising, they couldn’t match with their overall murder investigation. One such piece of information came from Galway travel agent Maurice Sweeney. His information was revealed 12 years after the killing in an article by Shane Phelan in the Irish Independent.

  Mr Sweeney operated a travel business in Loughrea, Co. Galway. He said that, around 2.30 p.m. on 23 December 1996, a man with a French accent came into his premises enquiring about accommodation for the night.

  ‘He came in looking for a hotel near Dublin Airport and also inquired about numbers for bed and breakfasts in west Cork. He had been in a bed and breakfast there and had left without paying. I assume he wanted their number so he could send on the money. It was two days before Christmas, which I thought was a little bit odd,’ he explained.

  The unknown Frenchman had come into the Galway travel agency around four and a half hours after Sophie’s body had been found. Mr Sweeney described the man as being of medium height and medium build, with sallow skin.

  When Mr Sweeney saw the garda appeal for information about the Toormore killing weeks later, the mystery Frenchman immediately sprang to his mind, and he contacted gardaí. Mr Sweeney made several further contacts. However, the Galway businessman later claimed he felt his information was not being treated seriously by gardaí. He felt so strongly about this that he later took the trouble to write to Minister for Justice Michael McDowell querying what action gardaí had taken on the basis of his information.

  Ten years after the murder, Mr Sweeney was interviewed by gardaí as part of a formal case review. It was apparent that investigating detectives were unable to make any link between the mystery Frenchman in Galway and the murder in west Cork. Significantly, gardaí were never contacted by any west Cork bed and breakfast owner about a French national who had stayed locally between 19 and 23 December 1996 and who had left without paying for their accommodation.

  Another piece of information that came to gardaí weeks after the killing was as equally mysterious. One person said they had seen a blue-coloured car driving at speed on the Goleen–Skibbereen road on 22 or 23 December. But that was it. Nothing to indicate that the vehicle had ever been even near the turn-off for Sophie’s Toormore home. No indication of the licence-plate number or even the car’s specific make or model. Years later, information of this type would be the basis for a number of conspiracy theories put forward about the case, including that a now-deceased garda member was somehow involved.

  Detectives were also plagued by misleading information, which was either well-intentioned or provided by people who had become obsessed by the sensational nature of the crime. I wrote about one such individual who contacted gardaí and the Irish Independent. He claimed to have information about the killing and, specifically, what he alleged had happened to the murder weapon. I reported on the fact that an individual had come forward with new information and had been interviewed by gardaí. There had been speculation for some time that the killer used two blunt objects, not just the concrete block found at the scene. The man alleged he knew where the supposed second weapon had been disposed of. However, gardaí treated his claims with scepticism from the very start. They subsequently came to the conclusion that the man, while well-intentioned, was a fantasist; he had a history of mental health problems.

  The problems with the murder investigation in Ireland were met with increasing incredulity by Sophie’s family in France. Some were decidedly diplomatic towards the Irish authorities. Paul Haennig, solicitor for Mr du Plantier, said in 2002, ‘We are not critical of the investigators – we are just patient.’

  However, Daniel Toscan du Plantier, in the 18 months before his death in 2003, was increasingly critical of the Irish handling of his wife’s murder investigation and incredulous that no court action had resulted. ‘We have rarely seen police as sure of their suspicion and incapable of finding proof. Three days after the murder the police said, “We know who the killer is.” But five years later we are still at this stage,’ he said.

  Sophie’s parents, Georges and Marguerite Bouniol, accompanied by Sophie’s aunt, Marie-Madeleine Opalka, made the painful trip each December or January to west Cork to attend an anniversary Mass in Goleen parish church for their daughter, usually celebrated by Father John O’Donovan. I covered those trips each year and, without fail, the couple would appeal for public help for the gardaí while steadfastly refusing to attack the Irish authorities for the failure to bring Sophie’s killer to justice.

  As the years passed it became increasingly heartbreaking to see the elderly couple clinging to the forlorn hope that somehow, somewhere, new information would emerge, which would allow Sophie’s killer to be identified and then face justice. Each time, after the anniversary Mass, a handful of west Cork locals would gather in the winter gloom and embrace the couple, expressing their personal sorrow and sympathy for what the French parents were enduring.

  On one occasion, standing with other Cork-based reporters outside Goleen parish church, I listened as Marie-Madeleine, whose flawless English meant that she acted as a translator for Georges and Marguerite during each visit, explained that their greatest fear was that they would not live to see justice done for their daughter.

  ‘The policemen we meet [each year] are very kind people,’ Marguerite explained, as Marie-Madeleine translated for her. ‘But I have to say that I could not understand the way that the Anglo-Saxon judicial system was working. We come back to west Cork every year. It is very, very difficult for us. But we hope and we pray that justice will be done someday for Sophie. She was viciously killed. Her face was smashed. But we can do absolutely nothing. We can do nothing for her except fight for justice. She wa
s murdered in terrible circumstances. The fact that she was left like that – it is terrible. Would you do it to a dog?’

  The French media, however, was far less forgiving or understanding of the Irish authorities and the problems faced by gardaí. Paris-based newspapers and magazines frequently wrote that the Irish authorities had bungled the case from the very beginning and that a litany of errors had effectively ruined any chance of a prosecution being levelled. On the fifth anniversary of Sophie’s death, one French newspaper carried an in-depth review of the case. It declared that, had the killing occurred in France, the killer would already be several years into a sentence.

  3

  SOPHIE TOSCAN DU PLANTIER

  Sophie Andrée Jacqueline Bouniol was born on 28 July 1957, 14 days after France had celebrated its national Bastille Day holiday. She was the first child of Georges Bouniol and Marguerite Gazeau. The couple were from families whose roots were in the Lozère area of France, though both grew up in Paris, where they would later live and work.

  The couple met in 1951 and were married three years later. Georges, like other young French men his age, had completed his compulsory military service. He had attended university and qualified as a dentist. He initially worked as a junior partner in a busy city practice before taking over the business, located in a Paris building that also had comfortable living quarters attached. Sophie was almost two when the couple welcomed their second child, Bertrand. Years later, they would have another son, Stéphane.

  Georges and Marguerite were devoted parents, and their lives were centred on their young family. They lived in an apartment just a couple of hundred metres from the River Seine and central Paris, which Marguerite had transformed into a beautiful home. Staunch Catholics, they attended local religious services, often in Notre-Dame. Like other French families, they had holidays both in France and abroad. Products of their era, and grateful for the way France had been rebuilt after World War II to emerge once again as a prosperous European nation, the couple were conservative, worked hard and saved for their children’s education. The children were the focus of Georges and Marguerite’s world, with care taken over their education, social life and sporting activities.

  Sophie was a precocious child. Beautiful, confident and intelligent, she was the centre of almost every event she became involved in. Friends would later recall how Sophie would ‘illuminate a room just by walking into it’. Even as a child she knew her own mind and displayed early signs of a strongly independent personality.

  The Bouniols maintained close contact with their extended family. So much so that Sophie drew some of her closest friends from within her wide circle of cousins, including Alexandra and Patricia. She was also particularly close to her aunt, Marie-Madeleine Gazeau. Marie-Madeleine would marry the acclaimed French–Polish artist, Roman Opalka.

  Roman Opalka was born on 27 August 1931 at Hocquincourt, northern France. His parents were from Poland, and they returned to Poland in 1935. However, they were deported following the invasion by Nazi Germany. Roman was lucky to survive the war, and he went back to Poland after 1945, where he made his name as a pioneering conceptual artist. He returned to France in 1977 and eventually became a French citizen, splitting his time with Marie-Madeleine between their homes in Paris and Venice until his death at the age of 79 in 2011. His influence on Sophie’s early life would deepen Sophie’s interest in and exposure to the arts and underpin her future career as a filmmaker, writer and passionate fan of poetry and music

  In school, Sophie’s intelligence ensured she always scored close to the top of her class. While she was strong in most subjects, it was within the spheres of art and literature that she thrived. She became an avid reader and, like most French teens, was absolutely devoted to the cinema, in particular French cinema, which was entering its golden era.

  It also became apparent as she grew into her teens that Sophie was not only intelligent but determined and increasingly independent. Although exceptionally close to her parents, she was also single-minded once she had made a decision, whether it was to do with her studies, her personal life or her political beliefs.

  Not surprisingly, Sophie attracted the admiring glances of teenage boys. Strikingly good-looking, her blonde hair framed a pretty, freckled face, lit up by magnetic eyes. Combined with a confident, bubbly personality, it meant Sophie had to cope with besotted young admirers.

  But for Sophie and her parents, nothing was to divert her from her education. She attended a school in Italy to focus on arts and language skills, which she was determined to hone. It was the latter that brought her to Ireland for the first time. Seeking to improve her English, Sophie signed up for a language skills programme that involved staying with a family in Dublin for a month in 1971. The following year she returned to Ireland for another one-month stint.

  While the other Bouniol siblings travelled to Ireland for similar language skills programmes, the visit had the greatest impact on Sophie, and not just in terms of her enhanced English. Ireland had a far greater impact on Sophie than on her brothers. The country and its culture seemed to make a connection with her that would, rather than fade over time, become more intense and persistent.

  Twenty years later, Sophie would seek to renew that connection on a more permanent basis with a holiday home in west Cork.

  Her parents were taken aback when, despite her passion for the arts, Sophie told them she wanted to study law at the prestigious University of Paris. Friends and family had anticipated her seeking to forge some kind of career in the arts, but Sophie had made her mind up. It was while in college that she first met Pierre-Jean Baudey.

  Tall, dark and with film-star good looks, Pierre-Jean was quiet, personable and easy company. Sophie seemed totally at ease in his company. Everyone noted what a lovely couple they made. But Sophie’s happiness with Pierre-Jean was increasingly in contrast to her studies. As her friends had feared, legal studies hadn’t captivated Sophie’s heart and she struggled to maintain interest in her courses. She easily passed her exams but was now openly questioning whether this was the field she wanted to devote the rest of her life to.

  Ultimately, despite the misgivings of her family, she left university.

  Not long afterwards, she married Pierre-Jean. They opened their own shop and worked in retail for a time. In spite of the fact that they never had a lot of money, both were very happy. That helped to ease any concerns her friends may have had at her decision to abandon her studies.

  Their wedding took place on 21 June 1980. Sophie was 22. She had opted for a simple, elegant Victorian-style wedding gown. Its high collar, short train and understated design placed all the focus on Sophie’s striking features and golden-blonde hair, which was pulled back in a simple ponytail. Everyone agreed that she made a beautiful bride.

  Ten months after the wedding, Sophie’s son, Pierre-Louis, was born. Sophie was absolutely devoted to her little son who, in appearance, shared more with his dark-haired father than his blonde mother. Sadly, too much had happened too fast in the relationship between Sophie and Pierre-Jean. The idyllic romance of the previous year was lost in a struggle of different priorities, financial pressures, the demands of raising a baby, and arguments about what their goals should be.

  A short time after the birth of Pierre-Louis, Sophie and Pierre-Jean separated. While their friends hoped there would be a reconciliation within a few weeks, none occurred, and in 1983 the couple made the decision to divorce. They had been married and living together for less than a year.

  Sophie moved back to the area where her parents lived, where they were delighted to offer active support in raising little Pierre-Louis. There was just over a decade in age between Pierre-Louis and Sophie’s youngest brother, Stéphane, so it was hardly surprising that there were times when Pierre-Louis almost seemed like a much younger sibling rather than a nephew.

  Pierre-Louis spent a substantial amount of time with his extended family as Sophie sought to reorganise her life and serve as her little family�
�s main breadwinner. She held a number of jobs, was never out of work and was thrifty in managing her finances. Sophie eventually focused on the media as a career that suited both her interests and her disposition.

  With her bubbly personality, intelligence and good looks, Sophie was a natural in the public relations sector. Eventually she secured a job working for UniFrance. Founded in 1949, UniFrance worked to promote French films overseas and, in particular, in French-speaking countries and the United States. Managed by the Centre National de la Cinématographie, it boasted hundreds of members ranging from film directors to studio officials and from screenwriters to agents.

  Because of the perceived cultural importance of French cinema, UniFrance could call on significant political and economic support when required. French cinema was seen as a critical method of promoting France itself, and successive governments – from Charles de Gaulle to François Mitterrand to Jacques Chirac – were staunch in their support of the agency and its work. French-owned firms were also keen to be associated with such a promotion of Gallic culture and major French film releases.

  For Sophie, UniFrance marked a turning point in her life. She had suddenly found what she had been looking for and what her legal studies had failed to provide. It combined her passion for the arts with the challenge of using her work to make a difference in the world as she saw it. Cinema also offered her a way of combining her work with her strong political views. Fascinated by African art, Sophie was eventually able to get involved in a film project dealing with African art and the exploitation of women in the African continent. She also pursued projects ranging from the importance of cinema in French society to the role of women in modern post-war Europe.