Siobhán Hynes: Left for Dead
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What does the opening beach scene reveal about Connemara’s isolated landscape?
On a crisp December afternoon, a man walks a lonely beach on Ireland's west coast. In his hand he carries a rifle. He's out hunting. He walks with his dog, a cocker spaniel. The man walks among the rocks and sand in a corner of this beach. And a corner of Ireland rarely visited by outsiders. This is a place known by few who do not come from this part of the world. It's a hard place to find. You can easily become lost if you try to make your way here without knowing the intricate web of countryside borines that surround it. The tide is drifting out, the ocean is retreating as the sun prepares to set. The soft waves rush up to the shore and then fade into the damp sand before they fall back again. The man looks along the beach and sees something.
A person. Lying there near the rocks. They're not moving. It is a young girl. He calls out her. On will two alright. Are you all right? There is no reply.
When someone is killed in Ireland, the Guardi call in a specialist unit of forensic crime scene examiners from the Guardian Technical Bureau. This is Ireland's real life version of CSI, but it's nothing like the movies or TV shows. For 25 years, I was one of the detectives on that team. My name is John Sweetman. My job as a guarded detective in the Technical Bureau was to read the evidence that could not speak for itself. I learned to see what others might miss fingerprints smudged on the handle of a door, weapons disguised in everyday objects, handwritten notes that revealed more than the writer ever intended. The smallest traces often unravel the big story. And now, I'm here to tell you those stories.
In this podcast from GoLout, I take you inside some of Ireland's most haunting investigations. This is Lines of Inquiry, a goal out original podcast that follows the evidence step by step and tries to uncover the real story behind the headlines. In this episode, a remote and isolated community is scarred by the tragic death of a seventeen year old girl. This is Siobhan Hines, The Missing Hour.
The western coastline of Ireland is known for the frothy white waves of the Atlantic. The sheer cliffs and rocky outposts where the land gives way to the sea. and the soft, sandy beaches dotted with seaweed. Among these beaches, Tra undolin in Connemara stands out. Instead of fine sand, the beach is made up of small shards of calcified seaweed, which crunches underfoot like small fragments of coral. The beach sits on the western side of the Caribrow Peninsula, and looking out from the shore you can see the nearby village of Littermore, and on a fine day the rust red sails of a traditional Galway hooker might float along the crystal waters. The beach shares its name with the nearby Oston Andolin, a small hotel which back in nineteen ninety eight was known for its Saturday night discos.
Carroe had a population of just two hundred and forty two people at the time, but the hotel catered to the young people from all the nearby Gaeltock villages. The disco was busy on the fifth of december nineteen ninety eight. The Christmas festivities were just beginning. It was a crisp night with a full moon, the sky blanketed with stars in the way only found in the most remote places. A couple spilled out of Oston and Dolin, into the chilled night air. There was a third man with them. A stocky, blond man in his twenties. He was an angry ex-boyfriend who had started to get violent. He hit the woman around the back of the head, and then turned towards her new boyfriend and punched him too. The guardi were called and warned the man that he needed to calm down.
At twelve thirty four a.m., the guards saw him again. He was sitting on the wall opposite the hotel. They rolled down the window of the squad car and shouted out to him in Irish, the language of the area. Go away. Go home. It's a free fucking country, he shouted back. He did not go home, and around half two that night the same man got into another fight. The same night, nineteen year old Anya Hines was home from college and had gone out with her friends and her younger sister Chivon in their local pub in Littermore.
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