Missing (16 page)
Authors: Barry Cummins
The night before she disappeared Fiona was out socialising in Butler’s pub, up the road from the house she was renting. On a number of occasions that night she complained of a pain in her
arm; but because of her disappearance, and the fact that she never made it to the Bridgetown Medical Centre, we will never know exactly why her arm was causing her pain, or whether this pain had
anything to do with her disappearance.
Despite the pain, she was enjoying herself that Sunday night. She was going about her normal routine of having a drink and a chat with some of her friends. Her movements in the last few hours
before she vanished were those of a nineteen-year-old woman enjoying herself. On closer inspection, however, her life was far from perfect.
Fiona Sinnott had suffered much during her nineteen years. She had her first boy-friend when she was fifteen; over the next four years she had a number of relationships with other men. Fiona
came from a loving and closely knit family, but there seemed little they could do to help her when one boy-friend became violent. On a number of occasions she suffered violent physical attacks. The
first time she was treated at Wexford General Hospital it was for bruising to her face and jaw; other hospital visits followed when the same man bit her legs and beat her about the head and back.
But each time she attended the casualty department she would discharge herself, or decline to say what exactly had happened.
While she never made a formal complaint against the person brutalising her, the Gardaí were becoming aware that Fiona Sinnott was being physically assaulted by a man from the south Co.
Wexford area.
In late 1996 two gardaí sped to a house a mile outside Rosslare Harbour. Garda Michelle Power had just received a 999 call to say that a man had reportedly threatened a woman with a
knife. The two male gardaí who arrived at the scene found Fiona Sinnott on the street being comforted by another woman. Fiona and the two gardaí went into a house, where the man who
had allegedly threatened her was lying asleep on a sofa. He had been drinking. He awoke and held a conversation with the two gardaí while Fiona collected her belongings. Fiona left the
house. The two gardaí noted the night’s events in the Garda log. No charges were made.
One detective believes that a pattern of abuse was unfolding but it was never proved.
Here we had a young woman attending Wexford General Hospital on a number of occasions for bruising to her face, a twisted ankle, a damaged jaw. She never once told the
Gardaí that these injuries were caused by another person. Of course we might all suspect the injuries were the result of a violent relationship, but suspicion is not enough. Fiona never
pressed charges. Were it not for that incident where a man reportedly threatened to kill Fiona, we might not have looked in that direction. But even then the feeling we got from Fiona was that
this fellow was going to sleep it off. No charges were pressed. I believe Fiona was physically abused by a man she was having a relationship with. But I can’t prove it. And this man has
no convictions for anything. He’s clean as a whistle.
The feeling of many people close to the case about who might be responsible for Fiona Sinnott’s disappearance is influenced heavily by a particular attack she may have
suffered a year before her disappearance. Detectives only became aware of the attack after Fiona vanished; but the circumstances of this reported assault disturbed the gardaí investigating
her disappearance.
Fiona confided in a number of people about a particular assault she suffered at the hands of this same man, who we believe might have been responsible for her earlier
treatment in hospital. We have more than one report about the nature of this assault, which is a very serious attack on a young woman. If we charged the alleged attacker he would be facing up
to life imprisonment. But we can’t charge him. We need Fiona.
Before Fiona Sinnott’s disappearance very few people knew of the attacks she was believed to have suffered. She had ended her relationship with the man who was believed to
be assaulting her. Fiona was a quiet girl, who enjoyed the company of her friends and family. She was also now the mother of a baby girl. Her future looked much brighter.
She spent the whole evening of Sunday 8 February 1998 at Butler’s pub in Broadway, in the south-eastern corner of Co. Wexford. The pub is a popular spot for young people. A few local men
played pool in the corner, while Fiona sat chatting with her friends Nora Sinnott, Joan Furlong, and Martina Scallan. Martina Scallan would later tell the Gardaí that Fiona was in good
spirits, but she had complained a number of times about a pain in her arm. Behind the bar, Brian Breslin served the women. Seán Carroll sat up at the bar, smoking and having a pint. He and
Fiona had ended their relationship the previous October, when their baby daughter was eight months old. They would still meet quite often, part of a group that went around together, and they shared
access to their baby. That night Emma was staying with Seán’s parents, Seán and Kitty Carroll.
At one point during the evening Fiona phoned home to her brother Séamus, asking him to come down to the pub. Séamus Sinnott, a fisherman, had just come in and was drained after a
hard day’s work. He declined the invitation. Later he would wonder whether Fiona was asking him to the pub because something was wrong. Had she something to tell him? Was she looking for
help?
This phone call is the last contact Fiona Sinnott had with any of her family. All the indications are that she was going about her normal routine that Sunday night.
As the evening wore on, Fiona’s arm was still paining her. She decided she would head home to her house, about a quarter of a mile away, close to Ballyhitt Racecourse. Martina Scallan
asked Seán Carroll if he would walk Fiona home. He said he would. He phoned his mother to tell her Fiona was not feeling very well and that he was going to walk her home and to stay the
night in her house. He asked his mother to collect him the next morning at about half past nine. Fiona said goodnight to her friends and took two packets of peanuts with her for the journey
home.
Seán Carroll and Fiona Sinnott started going out when Fiona was in her mid-teens. Seán was ten years older than Fiona. He was a ‘biker’ who had bought
his first motorbike when he was seventeen. He had spent time in Australia and in London but had returned to his native Co. Wexford and worked for a time in a local factory. He had married a woman
he met while working in London, but that relationship was long over. Fiona was attracted to Seán’s exciting life-style, and eventually they began dating. Their relationship was to
continue on and off for more than three years. During that time Fiona was also involved with other men. On 28 February 1997 Seán and Fiona celebrated the birth of their daughter. Seán
arranged for the three of them to move into a flat in George’s Street, Wexford. However, by October 1997 they had decided that the relationship was not working, and they split up. They would
still meet often, to share custody of Emma, and would also meet on social outings with other people from the locality. When Seán was asked to escort Fiona home that Sunday night, he
didn’t hesitate.
Fiona Sinnott was the youngest of five children. Caroline, the eldest, is nine years older; in between are Séamus, Norman, and Diane. When I met Caroline and Diane they
told me of the pain their family continues to suffer. Caroline told me she believes something awful happened to her youngest sister.
I fear Fiona is dead, but I don’t
accept
she is dead. You can never give up. I know she’s dead, or hurt in some way. Fiona was such a curious, nosy
person. If she was away by herself she would have to be in contact. She wouldn’t be able to stay away. She couldn’t bear it. I know something awful happened to her and she was put
somewhere. You don’t just disappear. Fiona didn’t have a penny on her. But there is no clue—nothing.
Fiona Sinnott’s two older sisters are passionate about her. Both women want answers. Diane told me about her memories of Fiona.
I last spoke to Fiona that Sunday night when she rang from the pub in Broadway. She was looking for my brother Séamus to go down to her. It was a quick
conversation.
Our nickname for Fiona was ‘Fifi’. Fiona and I were very close. She wanted to be a chef; she could make the most delicious pastries. She loved all types of music: she went to the
Cranberries; Dolores O’Riordan was her favourite singer. She loved partying: she was a real party-bopper. It’s the not knowing what happened to Fiona that is the worst thing.
After saying goodnight to friends, Seán Carroll and Fiona Sinnott left Butler’s pub late on the Sunday night. The walk to Fiona’s home was a short distance
along a quiet road. The journey was slow, with Fiona taking her time because of the pain in her chest and arm. Along the way they smoked and chatted and ate the peanuts Fiona had bought. As soon as
they got to the house Seán asked Fiona if she wanted a cup of coffee. She said she didn’t and that she was going to bed. Seán set the alarm on his watch for nine o’clock,
having arranged with his mother to collect him. He went to sleep in a spare bed.
He woke at nine the next morning. He went into Fiona’s room and woke her; they spoke briefly, and Fiona said she was going to the doctor in Bridgetown. Seán gave her some money and
left; his mother had just arrived to collect him and drove him home to Coddstown, two miles west of Broadway. He later told Garda Jim Sullivan that Fiona was awake and in bed when he last saw her.
This is the last known sighting of Fiona.
It was nine days after the last reported sighting of Fiona Sinnott that the Gardaí became aware that she was missing. It was not uncommon for Fiona—like many teenagers—to head
off somewhere with friends and perhaps stay with them. On a previous occasion she had travelled to Cork to try to sort out differences in a relationship she was in. Though she hadn’t
contacted her family or friends by mid-February, alarm bells did not ring immediately. Some of her family thought she might have travelled as far as Wales to see someone; but steadily it began to
dawn on everyone that something was wrong. Fiona didn’t phone home to her family in Bridgetown; she didn’t phone either of her sisters, not even Diane, whose twenty-first birthday was
fast approaching; and she didn’t make contact with the Carroll family to collect Emma to get her a new outfit for her first birthday. It took nine days for everyone to feel that something
very bad had happened—nine days during which the person or persons responsible for Fiona’s disappearance were able to cover their tracks.
Pat Sinnott reported his daughter missing on 18 February 1998. He walked into the Garda station in Kilmore Quay, where he met Garda Jim Sullivan and told him he was concerned about his daughter
Fiona. He told him that the last time any of the family had spoken to Fiona was on the eighth. On hearing that she hadn’t been seen in over a week, Garda Sullivan phoned the Gardaí at
Rosslare Pier to alert them also. Word quickly spread that Fiona Sinnott had vanished.
Detectives in Rosslare and Wexford began to examine what was known about Fiona Sinnott’s last movements. All her friends and family were interviewed, and people from around Broadway were
also questioned. One detective told me that the condition of Fiona’s house was unusual.
The house was spotlessly clean. This was unusual for Fiona. Her family told us that she was not the most house-proud of people; but the house was very clean. And considering
that Fiona was complaining of a pain in her chest and arm before she disappeared, we doubted whether she might have cleaned the house. But we searched the house for clues, for any sign of
anything that might tell us what happened to her. We found nothing.
The area from which Fiona Sinnott vanished is a quiet townland just west of Ballyhitt Racecourse. Four miles to the north is Rosslare Harbour, with daily ferries to Wales and
France. Four miles south is Carnsore Point, the south-eastern tip of Ireland. An extensive land and water search was organised, and the normally quiet area around Broadway became the focus of
intense Garda scrutiny as every possible witness was tracked down and questioned. When it was learnt from Seán Carroll that Fiona had intended hitching a lift from Broadway to Bridgetown,
all possible witnesses were found and questioned. No-one had seen Fiona Sinnott either standing on the road hitching a lift or in a car travelling to Bridgetown. She never attended the doctor that
Monday.
Over the following months the Gardaí carried out extensive searches of land in Co. Wexford, but no trace of Fiona Sinnott was found. One of the areas looked at immediately was
Lady’s Island Lake, a large lake a quarter of a mile south of where Fiona was last seen; it is almost two miles long and a mile wide at its southern base. Only for a thin stretch of land,
known as Grogan Burrow, the lake would be part of the sea. The Burrow stretches from near Kilmore Quay eastwards to Carnsore Point. In the process the Burrow helps to form two large lakes:
Tacumshin Lake, which lies two miles from where Fiona disappeared, and Lady’s Island Lake, which is just a short walk from the house. Extensive searches were carried out at each lake, with
Garda divers searching both stretches of water as well as the small islands in the middle of each. One detective recalled that the search of Lady’s Island Lake took almost a month.
We actually drained the lake. Not totally dry, but enough to be able to search in just a few feet of water. It was a massive operation. We had already searched the lake and
found nothing, but we were conscious that here was a large stretch of water just a short distance from where Fiona disappeared. So, we decided we wanted to be as sure as sure could be. What we
did was we cut a hole in the sand of the burrow, using a JCB, and drained much of the lake water into the sea. We were able to comb the lake. If anything was there we would have found it. We
found nothing.
From the time of the first report of Fiona Sinnott’s disappearance the ferry terminal at Rosslare Harbour was alerted and issued with a description. Through Interpol, the
police at Fishguard, Pembroke, Cherbourg and Le Havre were also alerted about the ominous disappearance of a nineteen-year-old mother. Through interviews with Fiona’s friends the
Gardaí were able to establish that Fiona had met a Welsh lorry-driver in Rosslare Harbour two nights before she disappeared.
