Gone without a trace

Armagh man Gareth O'Connor disappeared without warning two weeks ago

Armagh man Gareth O'Connor disappeared without warning two weeks ago. Members of his family tell Suzanne Breen they are convinced he was abducted by the IRA

Leona O'Hare's last contact with her partner was a two-word text message on her mobile phone. She had texted from their Armagh home, asking him to bring back the Sunday newspapers. "OK pet," he replied. That was a fortnight ago. Gareth O'Connor (24) hasn't been seen since.

He disappeared while driving on the road to Dundalk. His family and friends fear he is dead. They believe he was abducted by the IRA because he complained to its local commander about a financial scam in which O'Connor and others lost money.

Three days before his disappearance, O'Connor was warned by the Police Service of Northern Ireland that he was in danger from the IRA. This is now one of the main lines of inquiry. The PSNI has expressed grave concern for his safety and has held a reconstruction of his last known movements. Gardaí have also carried out searches across the Border. The Archbishop of Armagh, Dr Sean Brady, has appealed for his return. No-one has come forward with information.

READ MORE

At 6 foot and 15 stone, with a strong, outgoing personality, O'Connor cut a distinctive figure. He lived in Knockamell Park, a quiet, peaceful area where the owners take pride in their neat semi-detached homes. His younger sister, Cara (9), nicknamed him "the big fairy" because, despite his size, he was "kind and gentle". He spoiled her with CDs and money. O'Connor's father is an electrician, his mother works in a shop. They're a close family. He set up home with Leona last year in the house next door to his parents. His brother, Ronan, lives across the road and his granny just a few doors up.

O'Connor was a busy man. During the day he worked as a welder, and in his spare time, he bought and sold second-hand cars. He also worked as a part-time fitness instructor in his local gym, where he spent hours weight-training.

"My son wouldn't look for a fight, but he wouldn't run away from one either," says his father, Mark.

O'Connor was known for his strong republican views. He didn't smoke or drink.

"The best I could manage was to get him out for a night every few months," jokes Leona (18). "He didn't need alcohol. He had naturally high spirits. That's why I fell in love with him."

Leona was still in bed with their 16-month baby, Eoghan, when O'Connor left home at 8.30 a.m. on Sunday, May 11th to drive to Dundalk garda station. He had been making the 30-mile journey to "sign on" every morning for five months. It was part of his bail conditions since being charged with Real IRA membership after a security operation in Co Monaghan. He pleaded not guilty and believed he would beat the charges, his family says.

"He kissed me goodbye and promised he wouldn't be long," recalls Leona. "I told him to shave, but he said he'd do it when he came back. I was to cut his hair and then we were going shopping in Newry."

At 8.53 a.m., Leona sent her text message about the newspapers. O'Connor was captured three minutes later on security cameras, driving through Newtownhamilton. It was the last sighting of him. Security sources believe he was abducted just outside the Border village.

When he hadn't arrived home by 11.30 a.m, Leona rang him. His phones were switched off.

"That was strange, because he only turned them off when he went to bed," says Leona. "He had a Northern mobile and a Southern one. They were never out of his hand. He was forever talking or texting."

Leona kept ringing regularly. By 3 p.m, she was worried. She phoned the Garda Síochána and was told he hadn't signed on. She contacted the PSNI. The family were certain O'Connor hadn't jumped bail.

"I wish he had," says his mother, Bernie. "At least he'd be safe. But he left all his bank cards at home. He didn't take a change of clothes. If he had absconded, he would have sent word to us and we wouldn't be making fools of ourselves in the media. We are very private people. The idea of even having my photograph in the paper horrifies me, but I'm doing it for Gareth."

At 5 p.m., Leona and O'Connor's brother, Ronan, drove to Dundalk, retracing O'Connor's steps in case his car had broken down or he had been in an accident. But the metallic blue VW Golf was nowhere to be seen.

"We looked for signs of blood on the road," says Leona. "There was nothing."

The O'Connors now believe the IRA abducted him because of a dispute over a financial scam. According to the family, two years ago an acquaintance of O'Connor - known as "R" - approached him, and up to 100 other people, about investing in a computer business. "R" had no criminal record or IRA involvement and was trusted by the community.

"Nobody suspected he was a conman. Gareth invested about £5,000 (€6,935)," says his mother. "One local businessman invested £200,000 (€277,400). Some people remortgaged their homes. Others put in maybe £500 (€693) or £1,000 (€1,387)."

Initially, people made a profit. Most chose to re-invest. By September 2002, however, the profits had stopped and investors were suspicious.

"This man had bought a new house and built his mother one," says Bernie O'Connor. "His family were driving around in new Mercedes. He built a holiday home in Turkey. When people demanded their money back, he went into hiding. Rumours spread he was in a Provo safe house in Lurgan."

Five men who had invested money tracked down "R", Bernie O'Connor claims. "They waylaid him leaving a building society in Keady. They quizzed him and he admitted taking £2 (€2.7) million from people in the scam. He said he went to the Provos for help when investors got angry.

"He said he had £440,000 (€610,000) left and the Provos offered him protection in exchange for the money. He said he also agreed to take out a loan for £25,000 (€34,671), which he gave to the Provos."

Bernie O'Connor claims the man signed a statement to this effect. She believes the deal was agreed by the north Armagh commander without the knowledge of the IRA leadership. This man is a former prisoner in his late 30s who lives in Dungannon, Co Tyrone and he has previously been disciplined by the leadership.

When Gareth O'Connor heard of the alleged deal he contacted this local commander, his mother says. "He called to his house. They never met, but messages were sent through other people and via phone. Gareth demanded the Provo appear before investors at a public meeting in Armagh. This man told Gareth to mind his own business. Gareth's message back was: 'I'm not intimidated by you. Come and get me.' We think that's exactly what happened."

"Gareth wasn't afraid of anybody, or any organisation," says a close friend. "He was very persistent. He would go to the ends of the earth if he set his mind on something. There were no half-measures with him. That might have been the problem."

In a statement last week, the IRA denied knowledge of or involvement in the disappearance. Sinn Féin has called for O'Connor's safe return. But Mark O'Connor, a former Sinn Féin worker, remains unconvinced.

"The Provos are the only people who can make someone disappear around here," he says. "Not a blade of grass grows in South Armagh they don't know about."

He has phoned Sinn Féin offices dozens of times over the past fortnight. "I've left messages for Gerry Adams, Martin McGuinness and all the others. The only one who would speak to me was Gerry Kelly. He said he knew nothing about Gareth."

O'Connor's parents haven't worked since his disappearance. "I tried to go in one day, but I had to come home. I couldn't concentrate," says his father. "I can hardly eat or sleep, let alone work," says his mother. "I feel constantly sick, my stomach is in knots. I keep picturing Gareth, tied up and hooded in some cold, dirty barn. My head tells me he is probably dead. But in my heart, I have hope."

Bernie O'Connor was so desperate she contacted a psychic in England. "She told me she saw a bad beating, but Gareth was alive."

Mark O'Connor says: "I thought maybe the Provos had given him such a beating they couldn't release him until the bruises faded. A black eye disappears in nine days, so I'd hoped he'd be released earlier this week."

His wife says not knowing what has happened is "destroying" them.

"All we are asking those who abducted him is to contact a priest or community figure to say whether he is alive or dead," she says. "Please put us out of our misery. If your family dog was missing, you'd be upset. This is our son. Do you not have a heart? How can you go home to your families every night, knowing the hell we are enduring?"

Two men arrested in connection with the disappearance were later released.

Human rights campaigner Monsignor Dennis Faul says he has been trying to prepare the O'Connors for the worst.

"I pray to god Gareth is restored to his family, but every day I have less hope," he says. "I'm convinced the Provos abducted him."

Faul says the bodies of 10 people who disappeared in similar circumstances during the Troubles have still not been recovered. "Now we have 11 missing. I thought this was a thing of the past and there would be no more 'disappeared'. But it seems anyone who crosses the boys, who interferes with their business, still pays the price."

Since the ceasefire, the IRA has dealt harshly with many in its own community.

Former IRA prisoner Paddy Fox was abducted and beaten in 1999 for criticising Sinn Féin. The Real IRA's west Belfast commander, Joe O'Connor, was shot dead after a confrontation with an IRA member the following year.

In 1998, former Derry internee Mickey Donnelly suffered a broken leg when he was beaten with iron bars for criticising Sinn Féin. That year, Andy Kearney bled to death in a "punishment attack" after he had clashed with a Belfast IRA commander.

Last year, Dungannon taxi driver Barney McDonald was shot dead following a run-in with the IRA.

Leona doesn't care about the politics of the situation. She just wants her partner home.

"I thought his arrest was the worst thing that could happen," she says. "Now I'd be delighted if he was in jail. At least I could phone and visit him. I don't want us to become one of the families of the disappeared, waiting for news for decades."

Every night in bed, she wears the cream sweater O'Connor had on the day before he disappeared - "It makes me feel better. I can still smell him." She phones him every half-hour and his sister, Cara, texts him regularly.

Leona finds it difficult looking after her baby son while her partner is missing. "I've surrounded the bed with pictures of Gareth," she says. "Eoghan points at them and says 'dada'. He senses something is wrong."

She has taped all the news bulletins and cut out the newspaper articles about O'Connor's disappearance. "I'm hoping he will come home and we will sit and look at them together and he will know how much we loved him and wanted him back."