It has become my summer obsession: The murder of Sophie Toscan du Plantier in a remote area of West Cork, Ireland, 1996. A French woman, wealthy, attractive, and free-spirited, spending a Christmas holiday alone in her remote Irish cottage turned up dead. No, not dead. Savagely murdered. Bludgeoned with multiple rocks and a cinder block, her nightclothes snagged in brambles, and her body laid open to the sky on the edge of a dirt driving path.
It all happened in an area where murders are incredibly rare, and the rage exacted on her body was so savage that this alone defies explanation. But it gets stranger. It seems that Sophie was fairly reclusive and very few locals knew anything about her. No one knows who might have the motive or opportunity. No one knows what she did with her days, or what her trip was about. No one (save for the murderer) seems to have seen anything pertinent. No physical evidence points to the culprit. Almost nothing about the case makes sense. The whole thing is one of the most curious circumstances I’ve ever researched.
Not to mention, I feel an eerie connection to the case. Like Sophie (and the person who would become the chief suspect in her murder), I am a “blow-in” living in Ireland. That’s what locals call anyone who wasn’t born and raised in a particular locale. I am an American blow-in living in an incredibly rural area with a home situated down a tiny single-lane road that is tricky to access. I am roughly the same age as Sophie was back then, and I also turned to Ireland for a change of pace and a more peaceful life.
Granted, there are plenty of differences between me and Sophie. She was wealthy with a crumbling marriage to an international film icon. Her Irish home was a holiday retreat that was only used on occasion. And she had secrets. Lovers. Plans. I, on the other hand, live here with loving husband and daughter, and I hold very few secrets, no affairs, no fortune, no mystery.
All the same, I want to know. What happened to Sophie Toscan du Plantier on December 23, 1996? Was the murderer the accused reporter/poet Ian Bailey? Or is he a patsy? Here are my thoughts after reading plenty of internet material, consuming two brand-new documentaries (one on Sky Television, and another on Netflix), and listening to the West Cork Podcast.
As you may well imagine, such a gruesome crime cannot be without an investigational target. The likely culprit in this case, it seems, is a British man from West Cork named Ian Bailey. He’s a reporter and poet, who one might call “eccentric” if choosing to be polite and modest. He’s loud, charismatic, intelligent, loves to talk, loves to drink, and carries himself in the most peculiar ways. He spent several years sporting a long black trenchcoat, wide-brimmed black hat, and walking about with a staff.
The reporter, who was about the same age as Sophie and lived in the same area as the victim, also has a violent history with women especially when he’s been drinking. That alone is a damning piece of his story, but it doesn’t naturally follow that he’s Sophie’s killer.
His ties to the crime are as follows: In his capacity as a reporter, he arrived quickly at the scene and seemed to have details earlier than officials would have expected (though none totally damning). He’s a large man with a violent past. An incredibly unreliable witness suggests have seen a man in a black trench coat watching Sophie while she shopped on the day of the murder. The same witness also spied the Black Trench Coat Man while she was driving on the road proximate to the crime on the night it happened. A handful of witnesses say that Ian Bailey had light scratches on his hands and one on his forehead, the implication being that they were wounds from the attack and the bramble hedges. At some point, there had been a large fire in his yard in which things such as mattresses and boots had been burned, with authorities wondering if this was evidence disposal. He has no reliable alibi, insisting that after drinking at the pub with his partner (Jules) they went to bed and he awoke during the night to write an article. In the weeks and months after the murder a couple witnesses suggest that he made callous remarks suggesting he did it. Also, his general demeanor and reaction to events has been perceived as strikingly odd to most people.
Note, of course, that none of these constitutes physical evidence. No fingerprints. No DNA. No detailed eyewitness accounts. No one is even admittedly aware of any connection between the victim and Ian Bailey, other than he did some gardening work for one of her neighbors and may have seen her from a distance. The bonfire ash yielded no evidence, and may not have been burned on a date close to Sophie’s death. That much is unconfirmed.
There were no matches to blood or hair. The scratches on his hands and face were said to be from climbing and cutting down a pine tree for Christmas, in combination with a slightly botched Christmas turkey slaying–both activities verified by authorities. And even the “admissions” he made to people are quite possibly sarcastic comments made in poor taste.
Did He Do It?
I find that I am surprisingly torn in half when choosing whether to believe Ian was the killer or not. I suppose I peg the odds at 49% likely guilt. And that is based mostly on hunches, observations of human nature, and circumstance. That’s not good enough, of course. Not for a condemnation of the man, and certainly not for a court case–which is undoubtedly why he has never been charged with the murder (in Ireland).
The following are my thoughts on Sophie’s murder and how I see circumstances pointing toward Ian and others.
Perhaps He is the Killer
One of the most glaring aspects of this story is how violent poor Sophie’s death was. Such an action was likely borne out of intense rage and/or passion. Someone shattered and demolished her. It’s easy to imagine that forethought didn’t go into the act and pure rage factored into her demise. That points to an acquaintance, family member, friend, or lover of hers.
Could Ian Bailey have been carrying on an affair with Sophie? After all, she had traveled alone to a cottage known to host former lovers. Maybe they originally met up to discuss poetry and art. Did he turn up at her house in the wee hours of the morning, drunk on whiskey and pick a fight with the French woman? If so, she could have fled the house, or been ushering him out at the gate when things turned especially violent? None of the sources I’ve read or listened to have suggested rumors of an affair, but perhaps that was merely discretion or a well-kept secret.
The Ian and Accomplice Scenario
Another scenario is that Ian was working on someone’s behest. Perhaps a lover of his (I’m looking at you, Marie Farrell). Maybe he was driven to her house, confident on whiskey, in order to settle a score that we will never know about (his score or Marie’s). Sophie opened the gate or even invited him in, and when the chatter turned disagreeable, he lost all control–just as he had with his partner Jules less than a year prior to the murder. Jules had been hospitalized with severe injuries to her face and head after Ian flew into a rage while drunk on whiskey. This could explain no fingerprints, given that he may have had forethought to wear gloves, and the presence of mind to go back and clean the house (remove a tea mug or wipe bootprints). Maybe a lover even helped him and then drove him away from the scene. He arrived home, slept the rest of the night at his studio, and then burned his clothes the next day.
I unfairly point a finger at Marie Farrell not because there is any evidence against her, but for the same reason I point a finger at Ian Bailey. Her testimony about seeing a man across from her shop is plagued with issues, including consideration that such attire would not have been out of place for any person during a 1990s winter night. Additionally, she made this vital observation while moving down a very dark road in a vehicle, which makes even a well-intentioned and honest account questionable. And the area of the sighting is not on a direct road between the murder scene and Ian Bailey’s house. All of this thin evidence at best, and then to make matters more suspicious, she first came forward with the Trench Coat Man account anonymously under a pseudonym. According to her, this was to cover up that she had a male in her car who was not her husband (a “friend”, she says, which means that the truth eludes her all over the place). Her secret identity was only foiled when she stopped using payphones and called authorities from her home phone.
So, what if that never-identified male in the car was Ian Bailey? What if she was an accomplice or witness to the crime in some capacity and in a whirlwind of regret tried to leave a trail of breadcrumbs for the gardai leading to Ian. Except that she wasn’t very good at it, and the breadcrumbs really led nowhere.
The Psychopath Scenario
The final scenario could be that Ian Bailey is simply a highly disturbed man who was walking through the dark night along various local roads and had a psychotic break of sorts, killing a woman he doesn’t know for reasons he doesn’t understand. Perhaps he doesn’t even remember it. He awoke the next morning realizing something horrible had happened, and he burned his clothes and set out to investigate his own crimes.
Perhaps He is Not the Killer
I tend not to put a lot of stock in judging odd people for being odd. So when I scrape away most of the circumstantial evidence that arises from his strange demeanor, fame seeking, sarcasm, and general personna, not a lot is left. Marie Farrell is such an unreliable witness, I tend to throw out what she says entirely–though I firmly believe she could very well be the key to unlocking the truth someday. Not yet though.
The alleged scratches and the bonfire ashes aren’t solid enough. The scratches, to whatever degree they actually existed (some witneses say they were severe, some witnesses claim they were very superficial or barely there), could have come from
Moreover, I have a problem with motive and opportunity. If Ian and Sophie weren’t lovers (and I’ve come across no suggestion that they were), then how would Sophie and Ian occupy the same space? What quarrel could they have?
The core of my reluctance to pin the murder on Ian is Sophie’s story, which seems wholly unconnected to the Englishman.
Consider the circumstances leading up to her murder: She chooses to fly to her holiday home in Ireland and stay there from 20 December to 24 December, leaving her husband and young son in France. Most importantly, before she left she asked several people of her acquaintance to join her in the trip, all of them declining for a variety of reasons. Does this point to her being afraid? Was she scared of someone in France? Did she wish to have a companion as a witness and protector? Was she leaving France afraid for her life?
This notion is bolstered by Sophie’s reaction to seeing the phantom White Lady at Three Castle Head. She ventured there during the day of her murder on a solo trip to the remote medieval site. Shortly after her visit, she arrived at the doorstep of some nearby acquaintances, acting quite shaken up. She told them she had seen the White Lady apparition, which legend says is a sure sign that your death is close at hand. She was said to be quite rattled. Perhaps she was simply a deeply superstitious person. Or perhaps she was already afraid for her life, and took this as a certain omen.
Also, right before she died she talked to her estranged husband and confirmed deciding to return in time for Christmas. This is peculiar given that it didn’t seem established before then that she would be back to spend the holiday with her son. It seems plainly obvious that some part of her life was in turmoil–be it her marriage, her love life, or whatever secrets she may have been holding.
Now I conjure the theory that it wasn’t any Irish resident, but someone from abroad pursuing Sophie all the way to West Cork.
The Jilted Acquaintance Scenario
To be clear, her husband and her one known lover who had a known violent history with Sophie both have solid alibies. But perhaps someone of their mutual acquaintance made the journey to confront her. Imagine that she returns home, has a glass of wine and does some washing up, placing the clean wine glass on the drying board next to one she had cleaned from the previous evening. Then she gets a visit from someone she knows from abroad they chat, maybe even stay the night. In the morning she sets out a spread of fruits and nuts, puts the kettle on and begins to slice bread. Then they excuse themselves around 6 or 7am, so she slips on her boots to open the gate. Possibly they’ve been fighting, abruptly ending the breakfast, and the fight continues as she marches down the lane in her nightgown and jacket. This is when they strike.
Such a scenario could also make sense for an Irish lover. Let us assume that her nervous outlook and the motive for her trip was to break it off with a menacing Irish lover before the start of the New Year. A fresh start for her. It could’ve been someone from West Cork. Or not. They quarrelled, she demanded they leave, and then the violence exploded. Of course, she wasn’t known to socialize much around West Cork, so finding a lover there is a bit of a stretch. All of her known lovers were from overseas. Physical reports state that the victim had not been sexually active prior to her death (so far as they can tell, anyway) so a tryst gone bad is unlikely.
Importantly, there is no evidence at all that this imagined lover would have been Ian Bailey. None. And if he wasn’t a lover of hers, it seems irrational that he would have any motive to kill her.
The Narcotics Scenario
There is another theory surrounding narcotics in West Cork. Now, to me this sounds fairly “out there”, but the rumors are worth considering–especially since they include suspicious activity by the authorities (Guards). So the scene might play out like this: Sophie had knowledge of (and potentially communications with) a local cannabis grower. And we aren’t talking about just a few flower pots of herb. This was a major operation. Her neighbor up the lane from her was said to partake in cannabis from this seller. And just maybe Sophie was also partaking, or even moving the stuff.
Here is what could have gone down: She’s supposed to traffic the cannabis but has issues with logistics or money. Her husband has cut her off, and she makes a quick pre-holiday flight to West Cork to try and settle up. The whole trip has her on edge, not sure how it’s going to play out. This (and maybe smoking a bit of herb) leads her to be ultra paranoid about the white specter at the lake. Then, early in the morning, she arises and is preparing a breakfast that includes fruits, nuts, and slices of bread to go with tea. Then someone arrives at the gate. She exits and hopes to get the business over with, or order them to go away. Then it happens. It all goes wrong and she’s bludgeoned.
The grower connected with the herbal enterprise was known to receive highly preferential treatment in trade for help with the case against Ian Bailey. Maybe this is why so much physical evidence was missing or inconclusive–collusion between the grower and the authorities. But this scenario requires a trip down conspiracy theory lane. It isn’t impossible, but requires mass coordination and a level of ruthlessness that is not typical of West Cork. There have been no other recorded murders of such brutality, so this would have been exceptional for the cannabis ring to be violently reactionary only on this one single occasion.
The Hitman Scenario
It is also worth discussing the possibility of a hitman. As I mentioned before, the vicious nature of the murder certainly doesn’t point to a “professional”. However, the killer needn’t have been a “professional” to be hired for murder. He may have known Sophie. Or not. What we do know is that her well-connected husband, facing an expensive divorce and already in financial difficulty, may have sent someone to dispatch her. A wealthy man pulling strings to fix an ugly domestic situation (possibly even keeping ugly stories out of headlines?). Motive, means, and opportunity.
Perhaps the event went something like this: It was early morning hours, along the lines of 6 or 7am. Sophie was up and had already eaten a quick breakfast (her autopsy points to fruit and nuts in her digestive system, and a loaf of bread in her kitchen seems to be partially sliced). She washed up afterward. Still in her nightclothes, she discovers that someone is at the gate, so she slips her boots on loosely and tromps down to see who it is. This is her killer. He tries to grab her, maybe intending to put her in the car or pull a weapon, but she fights back too well and too quickly. So he panics and improvises using stones within his reach, then realizing the job isn’t quite done, he walks over and grabs a cinder block for the coup de grace. He’s wearing gloves and a cap to avoid hairs and fingerprints. His long-sleeved winter attire means none of his blood is left at the scene either. He goes back to the house for reasons unknown (retrieve something? Clean himself up?) and then gets back in his car and immediately leaves town. It will be another few hours before Sophie’s neighbor drives down and discovers the scene.
I feel for poor Sophie who spent her last day in solitude, and at least partially in fear. She was in a land of strangers and she left this world in a horrendously violent way. I know that cementing the idea of Ian Bailey as the killer would be comforting to a lot of people around her for the closure. A face to blame is a very important thing, and it ascribes a level of peace to the woman’s memory.
Maybe Ian Bailey is the murderer. I believe that Jules and Marie Farrell know a lot more than they are saying. I have no idea how Ian and Sophie may have met, why he would walk to her house in the middle of the night (or early morning hours), or what would make him murderously angry–yet able to regroup and clean up after himself. But there is too much coincidence, paranoia, money, and international intrigue at play to convince me that he killed her. There is a very good chance he is innocent.
But I only just barely believe that. And I certainly don’t know it to be true.