Smith retired from Irishtown Garda Station in November 2002. Just before this he looked once more over the file that consumed so much of his time over the
previous nine-and-a-half years: file C31/24/93, missing woman: Annie McCarrick. Val tells me this is the only case that he ever got personal about.
What is frustrating is that we never got a run for our money on it. The last sighting of Annie on the bus in Ranelagh heading towards Enniskerry opens up so many
possibilities, so many avenues of inquiry. We never made an arrest in this case. We questioned a number of men at length about their movements around the time of Annie’s disappearance,
but we just never got that break. This case affected all the gardaí who worked on it. It was exhaustive. If it affects gardaí, God only knows how it affects Annie’s parents
and family and friends. If Annie’s body was found, that would at least be one thing: that would be something. I served here in Irishtown for thirty years, and this is the biggest unsolved
case we’ve had. I would dearly love to be called out of retirement one day to give evidence in this case.
Nancy McCarrick told me of a clear memory she has of her only child. In the present circumstances it paints a particularly poignant picture.
Annie was such a romantic, she was such an emotional person. I remember she was in Manhattan one time and she phoned me. ‘Mom,’ she said, ‘I’m at the
opera. I’m at
La Bohème
; there’s standing room only. Mom, I’m having the most wonderful time, it is so beautiful, and I am crying my eyes out.’
For Nancy and John McCarrick there is no closure, no ending. Nancy told me that she does not know how she has coped.
I really don’t know; it’s really difficult to say. Time helps a lot, but I’m always wondering. I’d give anything to know where my daughter is. But I
don’t have a choice: I just have to go on. My brother Tim lives just next door to me, and I mind his little boy three days a week. I’m kept occupied and happy in that regard, but
you never know when it’s going to hit you. Sometimes the terrible realisation just hits you. I miss her so much. I would just love to have my daughter back. I want Annie’s body
found.
2
Jo Jo Dullard
L ate on the night of Thursday 9 November 1995, 21-year-old Josephine (Jo Jo) Dullard was abducted in Co. Kildare and murdered. She was half way
home when her killer or killers struck. It was a cold winter’s night in the village of Moone when, just after half past eleven, Jo Jo accepted her third lift that night. After spending the
day in Dublin she had missed the bus that would bring her directly home to Callan, Co. Kilkenny. Instead she had got a bus from Dublin to Naas, Co. Kildare, and started hitching. She got lifts from
Naas to Kilcullen, and from there to Moone. By the time she got to Moone she still had more than forty miles to go.
At 11:37 p.m. she entered the public phone box in Moone, just yards from the busy road. She phoned her friend Mary Cullinane, telling her where she was. She was now thinking of trying to hitch a
lift ten miles to Carlow, where she could stay with a friend. During the short, stilted conversation she was looking out of the phone box, trying to flag down passing motorists. Suddenly she
dropped the phone and ran out to the side of the road: a car had stopped. Jo Jo ran back to the box, told Mary she’d got a lift, and hung up.
At some point during the next few hours, Jo Jo Dullard was murdered. There are a number of different suspects whom the Gardaí believe may be responsible for the killing. These include a
man who gave the Gardaí false information about his movements that night and a man from Co. Wicklow now in prison for a horrific attack on a woman. Two members of a criminal gang of
travellers are also earmarked as suspects.
Jo Jo’s disappearance has caused immense pain for her sisters Mary, Nora, and Kathleen, her brother, Tom, and her nieces and
previous nine-and-a-half years: file C31/24/93, missing woman: Annie McCarrick. Val tells me this is the only case that he ever got personal about.
What is frustrating is that we never got a run for our money on it. The last sighting of Annie on the bus in Ranelagh heading towards Enniskerry opens up so many
possibilities, so many avenues of inquiry. We never made an arrest in this case. We questioned a number of men at length about their movements around the time of Annie’s disappearance,
but we just never got that break. This case affected all the gardaí who worked on it. It was exhaustive. If it affects gardaí, God only knows how it affects Annie’s parents
and family and friends. If Annie’s body was found, that would at least be one thing: that would be something. I served here in Irishtown for thirty years, and this is the biggest unsolved
case we’ve had. I would dearly love to be called out of retirement one day to give evidence in this case.
Nancy McCarrick told me of a clear memory she has of her only child. In the present circumstances it paints a particularly poignant picture.
Annie was such a romantic, she was such an emotional person. I remember she was in Manhattan one time and she phoned me. ‘Mom,’ she said, ‘I’m at the
opera. I’m at
La Bohème
; there’s standing room only. Mom, I’m having the most wonderful time, it is so beautiful, and I am crying my eyes out.’
For Nancy and John McCarrick there is no closure, no ending. Nancy told me that she does not know how she has coped.
I really don’t know; it’s really difficult to say. Time helps a lot, but I’m always wondering. I’d give anything to know where my daughter is. But I
don’t have a choice: I just have to go on. My brother Tim lives just next door to me, and I mind his little boy three days a week. I’m kept occupied and happy in that regard, but
you never know when it’s going to hit you. Sometimes the terrible realisation just hits you. I miss her so much. I would just love to have my daughter back. I want Annie’s body
found.
2
Jo Jo Dullard
L ate on the night of Thursday 9 November 1995, 21-year-old Josephine (Jo Jo) Dullard was abducted in Co. Kildare and murdered. She was half way
home when her killer or killers struck. It was a cold winter’s night in the village of Moone when, just after half past eleven, Jo Jo accepted her third lift that night. After spending the
day in Dublin she had missed the bus that would bring her directly home to Callan, Co. Kilkenny. Instead she had got a bus from Dublin to Naas, Co. Kildare, and started hitching. She got lifts from
Naas to Kilcullen, and from there to Moone. By the time she got to Moone she still had more than forty miles to go.
At 11:37 p.m. she entered the public phone box in Moone, just yards from the busy road. She phoned her friend Mary Cullinane, telling her where she was. She was now thinking of trying to hitch a
lift ten miles to Carlow, where she could stay with a friend. During the short, stilted conversation she was looking out of the phone box, trying to flag down passing motorists. Suddenly she
dropped the phone and ran out to the side of the road: a car had stopped. Jo Jo ran back to the box, told Mary she’d got a lift, and hung up.
At some point during the next few hours, Jo Jo Dullard was murdered. There are a number of different suspects whom the Gardaí believe may be responsible for the killing. These include a
man who gave the Gardaí false information about his movements that night and a man from Co. Wicklow now in prison for a horrific attack on a woman. Two members of a criminal gang of
travellers are also earmarked as suspects.
Jo Jo’s disappearance has caused immense pain for her sisters Mary, Nora, and Kathleen, her brother, Tom, and her nieces and
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