Huntâs Hill to the Du Plantier house is 4.1 kilometres as the crow flies. That seems a pretty long distance to be observing a house in the distance on a dark night, even if all the lights are on. Put it this way, youâd want to have very good eyesight.
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Great find
What age is he now? Must be tipping 50.
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Justine McCarthy
Bailey could never resist having his name in a newspaper
The last time Ian Bailey rang me he said he had a cracking story about a national personality who, he alleged, had indulged in a sexual orgy. Ring so-and-so, he instructed. Do the leg work. He had this superior way of issuing editorial diktats as though he were Citizen Kane himself.
What differentiated this call was that the story he was offering did not feature himself. I asked if the orgy participants were consenting adults. He said âyesâ and I replied that there was no public interest reason for reporting it. He never rang me again.
That last conversation has been replaying in my mind since the death five days ago of the man suspected of murdering Sophie Toscan du Plantier in December 1996. How extraordinary that one of the most ubiquitous dramatis personae in Ireland for nearly three decades should fall dying in a street with passersby trying to save his life.
Journalists have been criticised, online and in west Cork, for posthumously âhangingâ Bailey, whose metaphorical fingerprints still smudge the Frenchwomanâs violent end at her holiday home on the beautiful Mizen peninsula. Knowing his journalistic ethics, I imagine he would be leading the posse if he could. He could never resist an opportunity to see his name in a newspaper; preferably in the headline rather than the byline. To me, his natural calling was not as a journalist but as a PR man spinning facts to suit his narrative.
My first encounter with Ian Kenneth Bailey arose from a call he made to the news desk of a paper where I previously worked. He had a story. The editor passed it to me. The story was that a petrol attendant had told gardaĂ a silent male passenger had been in Toscan du Plantierâs car when she stopped for refuelling the day she arrived from Paris. Bailey argued this indicated she had travelled with a man from France, giving credence to his theory that the killer was somebody from abroad, probably âa hired assassinâ.
After that, he kept calling. Sometimes he would call several times a week, checking if I was working on whatever tip-off he had given me. One time, he called from his âwoodshedâ late at night, incoherent with drink. I knew he was calling other journalists too. Some of them were colleagues sitting just feet away from me in the newsroom.
One time he called to say he was coming to Dublin and we should meet. The rendezvous he chose was an outdoor table on a busy street where people walking past did a double-take on recognising Irelandâs most famous murder suspect. He was such a notice box.
Manipulative and domineering
When the organisers of the West Cork Literary Festival asked me to interview Jennifer Forde and Sam Bungey, the makers of the West Cork podcast series about Sophie Toscan du Plantierâs murder, he pestered me for weeks beforehand demanding a free ticket and the right to speak from the stage. The night before the interview, he came to my hotel and left a package at reception. It was a book of his poems.
He was manipulative and domineering, but if either trait was an offence our jails would be bulging at the seams. Sometimes he echoed Donald Trumpâs attitude to womenâs appearances, like the time he laughably deemed Toscan du Plantier âplainâ in published photographs of her. His presence unnerved me but that might have been because he was a suspected murderer. A reputation like that comes with a ready-made aura.
The question everybody wants answered is if Ian Bailey killed Sophie Toscan du Plantier with a rock and left her to die in her nightdress near her garden gate the night before Christmas Eve? Who can say now?
What I can say is that there is incriminating evidence, contrary to sweeping dismissals in some news organs, such as Village magazineâs pronouncement that there was ânot a shred of evidenceâ, and the verdict of Hot Press that âgardaĂ had little or nothing in the way of evidenceâ. This is objectively untrue.
Bailey had no alibi. He changed the story he told gardaĂ that he had been in bed with Jules Thomas, his then partner, after gardaĂ discovered that he had left their bedroom during the night. He had scratches on his face and hands the morning after the murder, which he said he got from killing turkeys and cutting a Christmas tree. He denied ever having met Toscan du Plantier but witnesses said on oath that he did. A house guest saw clothing soaking in the bathroom and neighbours saw him burning items on a bonfire on St Stephenâs Day. Bailey was among the first to reach the murder scene, contributing to its contamination. Not least, he had a history of violence against women. A lamentable fact, some say, but it did not make him a killer. Sadly, it might have brought him close the night Thomas was hospitalised and almost lost an eye after one of his beatings.
Circumstantial evidence
The Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP) decided against a prosecution because the case against Bailey relied on circumstantial evidence and was not considered watertight.
In the 27 years since Toscan du Plantierâs brutal killing, Joe OâReilly and Graham Dwyer have both been found guilty of murdering women based solely on circumstantial evidence. Last year, the Court of Appeal dismissed Dwyerâs appeal against evidential phone records, ruling that there was other âcompellingâ evidence against him.
A fair justice system would reserve as much as possible of the adjudication on a case like this to trial judges and juries, not the prosecutors. With the current system, neither justice nor the public interest is necessarily served, as Toscan du Plantierâs family has learned.
Some say Bailey was not the brightest. Though he may not have been as brilliant as he presumed, he certainly did not lack intelligence. He knew that, in Ireland, the litmus test for not pursuing a murder prosecution is the prospect of failure and condemnation for wasting âtaxpayersâ moneyâ.
Now the only suspect is gone with whatever secrets he had. And he had some, as he hinted in one of those poems he left at the hotel reception desk. âMany are the chapters yet untold before the story ends,â he waxed presciently.
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Thatâll drive bridgy to the edge.
Justine McCarthy absolutely despises all men.
All this proves is Bailey now a free hit. There is no circumstantial evidence.
Youd think he would have left a letter with his solicitor to be made public when hes passed,stating his position.
If not for him,then for the familys sake.
Ive a feeling he wont and its his way of saying fuck ye lads.
The bridge was nonsense. The neighbours were in bed early so there would have been no lights on anyway.
Marie Farrell put the suspect at the bridge. Also claimed the guards forced her to describe Bailey as being at the bridge.
The lads who think Bailey is guilty love to cherry pick this evidence. You canât believe a word she says only for the bit about the bridge to fit their made up stories.
I donât believe a word of the bridge bit. Nor do I believe a word of the turkey bit.
Buttimer said he rang him last week and told him heâd not long left and they were planning on making a will.
Not sure heâd a pot to piss in.
But the body language expert says heâs guilty.
All the more reason to give her family and the West Cork community some type of closure.
If you think coldly about it,the fact that so far,he didnt,would lead me to think he did it.
Could be totally wrong but no one would like leaving that legacy behind them,Id suggest.
Sorry. Iâm not sure youâre following here. Are you suggesting he should leave a note to say heâs innocent or something?
Yep or Guilty.
Sure there would be no comeback on him now.
By justines logic, joanne hayes, frank mcbrearty and maurice mccabe are all guilty, because there was âevidenceâ against them
Iâm hoping to threaten the Irish times with legal action here.
Iâm not so sure on that now chief. He also got a heart attack. Not easy plan things.
Mick Clifford made a good point about people who have been wrongly accused/convicted. An obvious sense of injustice drives them. Theyâre furious initially and go to any lengths possiblt to clear their name. There was never any sense of that with Bailey, he just paid it lip service. Never any sense of anger in him apart from when he had a few and battered the poor partner.
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