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Saturday, 30 June 2018

Bonkers

I am still laughing at how utterly, utterly mental this is




Get some therapy, Carla. You are nuts.  

Sunday, 24 June 2018

The Reconstruction that never was

The McCanns are now arguidos and have returned to Britain faster than you could say "You have the right to remain silent..."

Kate continues:



Since August, when the PJ had begun to turn against us,
Or as it is usually called, 'doing their job' 
we had been very disappointed with the attitude of the British authorities. Contact with us reduced to a trickle and little, if any information was shared with us. After we were made arguidos the situation deteriorated further.
 Just a tiny point here, but that was because you were frigging suspects, you clown. Since when do the police go around sharing information with the bloody suspects? 

The UK police would argue that their hands were tied: the Portuguese might have perceived any ‘interference’ as an attempt to undermine their primacy in the investigation, which would have had implications not only for the current inquiry but also for any future international cooperation. We were aware of the frustrating constraints of this delicate relationship, but to us, it just felt like a betrayal.
Betrayal of what? You were a cheeky pair of fuckers who got themselves into trouble abroad and embarrassed them, given as doctors should at least know how to look after their own children
The most difficult thing for us has been that we know the British police considered aspects of the investigation to be substandard and we honestly don’t think they believed we were involved in Madeleine’s disappearance.
Now, this is such a sneaky thing to do. She can make a claim like that and there is absolutely nothing the UK police can do about it. They can't agree with it, they can't deny it. Naturally, it's another opportunity to have a go at the Portuguese police, too.
Comments made to us privately by several officers (including the most senior ones) confirmed this, but did nothing to prevent us from feeling we’d been hung out to dry when radio silence was maintained in public.
Again, this puts the police in an impossible situation. They can neither confirm or deny it and frankly the McCanns could have made it up and the police would have been unable to say anything. I remember reading an account of another crime, where, during a press conference, the two chief suspects announced that they had passed the lie detector tests "with flying colours" which was a big lie; they had failed miserably. But the police couldn't contradict them without blowing the chance of a conviction
It is exasperating, too, that while we know the UK police are well aware of the selective leaks to the media, and what they seem designed to achieve, they still insist they have a cooperative relationship with the PJ.
So what - you expected the UK to break off diplomatic relationships with Portugal because of your 'hurt feelings'? Perhaps you are disappointed we didn't go to war, or send an Armada.  
These leaks have included confidential statements taken by officers in Britain and supplied to the Portuguese police – and in some cases, the breaching of that confidence has caused immense damage to people other than ourselves.
Of course they were passed to the police - you expect the UK plods to withhold evidence from the PJ? Have you forgotten, Kate, that it was supposed to be about getting your daughter back, not rubbing E45 cream into your hurting bits? 
It all makes this ‘cooperation’ look very one-sided. By declining to speak out about this kind of behaviour, which wouldn’t be tolerated in our country, they are conveying the impression of a tacit acceptance of it, even agreement with it.
That may well be because they DID agree with it 
In the spring of 2008 – almost a year after Madeleine was last seen – the PJ decided they wanted to conduct a re-enactment in Praia da Luz of the night of 3 May 2007. The participants required were Gerry, me, Fiona, Dave, Jane, Russ, Rachael, Matt, Dianne and Jes Wilkins, to whom Gerry chatted in the street that night just after his last glimpse of Madeleine.
Well, that seems logical. You were all there that night. 
They weren’t interested in using actors or stand-ins.
What would be the point? 
So either everyone agreed or the reconstruction wouldn’t go ahead.
That must have been like handing you a Get Out of Jail Free card 
Our understanding was that as arguidos, Gerry and I were obliged to attend.
Yes, you were. But strangely, you didn't seem clear on this in several tv interviews you gave, when you made lots of excuses as to why you didn't want to go back 
The other witnesses received reasonably friendly emails from the PJ, via the British police, inviting them to take part.
Yes they did. The emails were perfectly civil, explained the process in full and were clear about what was expected of them
They were a bit baffled and replied requesting more details about the purpose of this belated re-enactment.
Baffled? Why baffled? Madeleine was missing, wasn't she? You had wanted to do a reconstruction in the early days, supposedly, so how did this sense of bafflement arise?

And lets be honest about the further details they requested. It was just basically them saying "But why?" and implying they would only come if they dropped your arguido status. They sent a demand for the following questions to be answered


 1 - Why do the PJ want them to take part in the re-enactment?

2 - What is the aim, what are the PJ trying to achieve with the re-enactment?
3 - Why so close to the anniversary?
4 - Why don't the PJ use actors?
5 - Will the footage of the re-enactment be released to the press/TV etc?
6 - What protection is there for the friends in relation to the media coverage/likely frenzy?


These were all answered in full and they were given assurances that they were not suspected of a crime. But still they procrastinated
It seemed it would not be filmed, or at any rate, not for information-gathering through public broadcast. Our friends had watched, with increasing horror, what had happened to us. If they were suspicious that the PJ might be trying to use them to somehow strengthen a flimsy case against us, or even to implicate one of them, it would be understandable.
I'm sure it would be understandable, and no doubt you had put the fear of god into them, implying that the same could happen to them as happened to you 
There were worries, too, about the likelihood of a media furore blowing up around the whole thing, especially as the proposed dates had already been leaked to the newspapers.
You were given assurances that the entire area would be closed off 
The biggest concern, though, for all the witnesses approached, was how a reenactment of the kind the PJ were proposing could actually help to find Madeleine. This question remained unanswered.
This is basically an outright lie. That question was not even amongst those sent to the PJ, and in fact Madeleine wasn't mentioned once. It was all a matter of self-interest
At that point the tone of the correspondence grew more brusque and what had seemed to be a request began to sound more like a summons.
Because they were sick of the procrastination and the constant "Yes, but why?" refrain from your mates
Some people decided they wanted to take legal advice before agreeing to anything.
Which they apparently did, and which resulted in some of them saying they wouldn't go 'on legal advice' 
In the end there was no quorum and the plan was abandoned.
In the end, your plan paid off, didn't it?

You never had the slightest intention of returning for any reconstruction. In fact, I think I can safely say you would rather have shown your bare arses in Harrods' window than get back on that plane for a reconstruction


When it comes to turning stones, the reconstruction demonstrated that you were quite prepared to leave one unturned when you might not like what was under it

Saturday, 23 June 2018

Ahem...






The first alert was given with the dogs head in the air without a positive area being identified. This is the alert given by him when there is no tangible evidence to be located only the remaining scent. 

                                                                                         Martin Grime, August 2007 

Write the theme tune, sing the theme tune.......

Textusa is too shy to tell you herself, but this was written for her. Enjoy. 




Edited to add:

I have just seen a new comment the madwoman has posted, aimed at Sade. I am not going to copy it in full but it includes this passage:


According to the screengrabs we were given with the comments on the FB post to which Anonymous 23 Jun 2018, 15:20:00, refers to, you have just arrived from holiday.

Note, we are not using any private information. Only the one you chose to put out there on the internet.

Now that you've dropped your being goody two shoes act, we ask you not to be rude to our readers. Thank you.

Working with NT is catching. Politeness goes out of the window and rudeness becomes the norm.

Does it really?

In that case you won't be at all surprised if I suggest you fuck off and keep fucking off until you can't fuck off any more. That should keep you too busy to stalk posters and give them a hard time, you deranged fishwife 

New blog

Tuesday, 19 June 2018

Anyway, as I was saying......


Evening Folks - Okay, back to the book

This section covers events just before the arguido status was applied. Kate had attended for interview at the PJ headquarters. She is not yet an arguida at this stage

At 5pm, we had a fifteen-minute break, which I spent standing in the corridor outside the interrogation room. Carlos came over and told me not to be so definite in some of my answers. He was referring, apparently, to a couple of claims by witnesses put to me by the questioning officer: allegations that they had seen Gerry or me doing this or that.
Does anyone else find this surprisingly vague? 
I have noticed that there are times when Kate's determination to 'capture everything' deserts her somewhat, just as it did when the question of the cancelled reconstruction came up. There seems to be a rush to brush something aside, sweep it under the carpet

"This or that" - such as? She seems reluctant to go into detail

One thing worth pointing out at this stage is that there is nothing in the PJ file to account for these 'witnesses', which to me suggests they were UK witnesses, questioned by the UK police, not as part of the rogatory process, and by the very nature of their contact with the police, their testimonies are not in the public domain
As these claims were untrue, I had said so. I couldn’t understand why, as long as I was certain a statement was wrong, I shouldn’t refute it.
So what does her lawyer mean, here, when he apparently says she ''shouldn't be so definite in some of her answers'?  
Although Carlos’s stance bothered me, I tried to take his guidance on board. But it did rather undermine my confidence.
Now I find this puzzling too. If she was so certain, why take his guidance on board? To what was he referring? 

If someone said to you "Did you shoot this man?" and you didn't, would you reply "No, I didn't" or "I don't know - what angle was he shot from?"

There is something underlying this passage of key significance, I think. Is it because an outright denial would close the door on a lesser charge? I really don't know. 

 Back at the villa, Carlos informed me, as Ferreira had indicated, that he needed to speak to Gerry and me in private. We sat down in the sitting room with Carlos, and Sofia, Eileen and Trisha left us to it. Carlos still looked very concerned. There was a great deal we needed to discuss, he told us. He reiterated that the situation was not good. The PJ had a lot of ‘evidence’ against us, and I was certain to be made an arguida in the morning.
First he cited video footage the police had shot of the reactions of the blood and cadaver dogs in apartment 5A and also around our hire car. I would be shown this on my return to the police station, he said. Presumably repeating what he had been told by the PJ, he explained how samples from both these sites had revealed Madeleine’s blood and one of them indicated a 15 out of 19 match with her DNA.I was totally perplexed. Although this news, if true, seemed to add weight to the possibility that Madeleine had at the very least been physically harmed, unusually I didn’t dwell too much on the frightening implications. I can only assume this was because what we were being told didn’t make sense. If, as the PJ alleged, Madeleine’s blood was in the boot of our car, which we had not rented until 27 May, how on earth had it got there? Did this mean someone had planted it? I could see no other explanation. The police theory, it seemed, was that we had hidden Madeleine’s body, then moved it later, in the car, and buried it elsewhere.
As always, Kate goes straight to the car. I can't find a single example where either of them has responded to the dog alerts in the apartment.

My position would be : Forget about the car; what about the alerts in the flat? Because they don't seem to want to discuss them 
Next came the matter of a crumpled page the police said they had discovered in my borrowed Bible. It seemed this was felt to be highly significant because the passage on that page, in II Samuel 12, dealt with the death of a child. I knew nothing about any pages being crumpled, let alone in which part of the Bible. The fact that I had asked to see a priest on the night of Madeleine’s disappearance was also seen as evidence of guilt. What? I was beginning to find my credulity stretched to breaking point. ‘Don’t people in Portugal talk to priests in times of need?’ I asked Carlos. Apparently not. They only called for a priest when they wanted their sins to be forgiven. Good grief. This was definitely not the faith with which I was familiar.
Oh yes it is.
It is not normal for catholics to call out a priest in the middle of the night to ''pray with them''
You call a priest if you need a sacrament. Such as the last rites, or confession 
A witness claimed to have seen Gerry and me carrying a big black bag and acting suspiciously. This was absolute nonsense, but ‘evidence’ of this kind came down to one person’s word against another.

Did they indeed? Word of advice - never say "It's his word against ours" when you are the one with the missing 3 year old
And it appeared that, as far as the PJ were concerned, our word counted for little.
I think that throwaway line is significant. I believe it indicates that the PJ believed they had an eyewitness to the pair of them carrying a bag.  
‘If you were Portuguese,’ Carlos said with an air of resignation, ‘this would be enough to put you in prison.’The only conclusion I could draw was that we’d been framed, though this seemed completely implausible.
It is 

I'm going to throw something out there

If a witness did make this claim, and we have to assume they did, then I think we also have to assume that they were a witness from outside Portugal and probably from the UK. The existence of any such evidence would not have been permitted to be included with the released PJ files unless it was given directly to the PJ or an agreement existed between the force who did collect any such evidence. And the PJ would not have been able to speak of it.
I do recall at the time a report did briefly appear, claiming that they had been seen, if my memory serves, placing a bag in a bin at the supermarket, but I have never been able to locate the report, so I'm guessing it could have been pulled
Faced with something like this, way beyond the sphere of your experience, it is natural to dismiss it as impossible, but that doesn’t mean it is. When I thought about all that had happened so far, maybe anything was possible. In any event, it seemed we’d underestimated the magnitude of the fight we had on our hands. Even our own lawyer appeared to think, based on what he’d been told, that the police had a good case against us.
I think this is also significant. Would a disputed lab result constitute a good case? Maybe not on it's own. But a lab result plus an eyewitness seeing you with a big bag? That's a tricky one  
I could see by this time that Gerry was starting to crack.Then came the best bit. Carlos announced what the police had proposed. If we, or rather I, admitted that Madeleine had died in an accident in the apartment, and confessed to having hidden and disposed of her body, the sentence I’d receive would be much more lenient: only two years, he said, as opposed to what I’d be looking at if I ended up being charged with homicide.Pardon? I really wasn’t sure if I could possibly have heard him correctly. My incredulity turned to rage. How dare they suggest I lie? How dare they expect me to live with such a charge against my name? And even more importantly, did they really expect me to confess to a crime they had made up, to falsely claim to the whole world that my daughter was dead, when the result would be that the whole world stopped looking for her? This police tactic might have worked successfully in the past but it certainly wasn’t going to work with me. Over my dead body. ‘You need to think about it,’ Carlos insisted. ‘It would only be one of you. Gerry could go back to work.’I was speechless.
Hmmmm

I don't think I would be speechless

I think my question would be "Well, to admit to that would mean admitting where I put the body - and I have no idea where the body is, so how is that going to work out?"

The incentive to accept this ‘offer’ seemed to be that if we didn’t agree to it, the authorities could or would go after us for murder, and if we were found guilty, we might both receive life sentences. Was this what it came down to? Confess to this lesser charge or risk something much worse?Gerry was distraught now. He was on his knees, sobbing, his head hung low. ‘We’re finished. Our life is over,’ he kept saying over and over again. The realization that we were at the mercy of an incomprehensible criminal justice system had hit him hard. It was excruciating to see him like this.
Okay, maybe it's just me, again, but my response would not be "Oh woe is me, we're finished" it would be "Hang on, this is bollocks. I am not having this"

Otherwise, films like the Shawshank Redemption would just consist of a man wailing "OMG I'm finished" and never bothering to wade through shit.  

Lazy bitch

Because the silly tart is too lazy or too stupid to do her own research


Victim recovery dogs from four different police forces were used during searches for kidnapped schoolgirl Shannon Matthews in Dewsbury in West Yorkshire in 2008.
The dogs found evidence of dead bodies, but officers later discovered the corpses were nothing to do with her disappearance.
"The properties searched contained a high level of second-hand furniture bought from dwellings where someone had died," according to the NPIA report.

 https://news.sky.com/story/sniffer-dogs-can-hinder-police-work-10488976

The NPIA no longer exists, so the links no longer work. But clearly, I have flown around the sun really, really fast in order to turn back time and make this up

Sunday, 17 June 2018

The hard of thinking

Evening all

I am going to address this one comment and one only






Lesly Frances Finn,

Grime says this:

“If there isn't a scent source in here, i.e. A physical article where the scent is emitting from, any scent residue will collect in a particular place due to the air movement of the flat”

Are you now telling us what Grime meant to say, semantically altering what he did say?
On several occasions, you attempted to alter the meaning of this sentence by omitting the words "If there isn't" from the beginning, so don't you dare accuse others of altering what he said.  

If you watch this video, you can hear Grime’s words for yourself compare with transcript in PJ files. Let’s not put words into his mouth.
http://www.gerrymccannsblogs.co.uk/Nigel/id167.htm

The point we have made is that Grime speaks of the existence of a physical source emitting present when the Eddie was taken to apartment 5A.
No - that ISN'T the point. The point is, he says "If there isn't"

You quoted the Oesterhelweg et al paper in it's entirety. That paper deals exclusively with alerts to residual scent. The only residues those dogs were exposed to was residual scent captured on those tiles

No body fluids

No liquids

No cellular residues

Just scent molecules, attached to the carrier

I cannot believe that after all this time, you still can't grasp that concept 

If the body does not leave any residual physical scent source, as NT states very clearly, then the only physical article from which the scent can be emitting from is… the body itself.
What?

Let me explain this as simply as I can

You can put a body in a room.

Then you can take it away again

A cadaver dog can signal to the odour of decomposition because the volatile molecules produced by the body can adhere to materials and surfaces in the room, as well as remaining in the atmosphere

There are no cells, no tissues, no liquids, no DNA remaining. Just volatile scent molecules.

Anyone who cannot understand this, form a line behind Textusa - you are going back to school. 

The ONLY way for BOTH Grime and NT to make sense is for the body to have been dismembered and someone having forgotten a body part in the apartment.
Total bullshit 

Nothing about semantics in that.

We respect every genuine opinion different from ours, but to have said respect it HAS to be genuine.
Every opinion other than yours is bound to be more genuine than yours is, given that yours is the product of utter fantasy, dreamed up by a diseased mind 

To be very clear, we respect all those who GENUINELY defend other theories with which we don’t agree with.
No you don't. 

Who we don’t and won’t respect are those who defend a theory just to avoid truth from emerging.
Oh just fuck off, you lunatic 

A message to many out there, pretence, no matter the effort, will never, ever equal genuine and honest conviction so it’s very, very easy to spot and so it only becomes shameful (or shameless?) exercise for those who practice it.
Ditto. 

We don't laugh opinions off. We, unlike you Lesly, do not join “mocking mobs” like the one you were a part of in the ‘Justice for Madeleine’ Facebook group when NT was being fiercely promoted there.
You really are eaten up with jealousy and resentment, aren't you? 

Although it can hardly be qualified as a mob the 29 people (of which 7 are admin) who participated in the “let’s promote NT” campaign in a group that alleges having over 38,000 members.

By the way, do you know why Justice has lost their gusto in promoting NT, if he’s so brilliant and who has inputs that are, quoting Sade Anslow (our caps): “measured and intelligent, and based on FACTS”?

I have this to say to the members of that group. Hello, I hope you have enjoyed reading this blog. I hope you find it useful and informative. I welcome any constructive comments, I have no problem if you disagree, I am happy to debate the issue. Abuse is neither tolerated or given a platform, nor is unsupported bollocks like swinging or any other similar crap.

I apologise that Textusa has seen fit to take her resentment and jealousy out on you guys. My best advice is to treat her as you would a naughty toddler.

Have a good night.  

Saturday, 16 June 2018

Just shoot me now

I am in pain. Is it possible to laugh so much you displace a vital organ?

If so, I may be gone for some time


According to some brain donor on CMOMM, the following is evidence of photoshopping as it 'clearly shows someone with two heads'



Dear CMOMM lunatic

Human hair moves; it blows around in the breeze. Please do not base your research on Donald Trump, whose hair is literally superglued to his spinal cord

Friday, 15 June 2018

Another little diversion......

While I am waiting for Jill Havern to appear on Twitter and announce that she and Baldybollocks have been creating a DNA database of anyone who ever posted at the Pit - HINT; they will all have the same DNA and be called Andy - I want to address one point, simply because I am a little tired of the misinformation currently circulating

The reason why I took a look at the Smith sighting is quite simple - as far as I know, nobody else had, and yet there was actually one verified time point, possibly two, which sets it apart from every other aspect of this case. In my opinion, it was worth taking a look and actually doing a bit of analysis to see what the margin for error is, and if that margin opens up the possibility of any new conclusions.

Now I realise this was unpopular with some - I mean, why look at verifiable facts when you can have so much fun claiming that a table doesn't exist, that the creche records were faked or that some pillock waited for a geezer to get on a plane before phoning the police? I understand.

So, let's get a few things straight.

I did not in any way attempt, nor have I ever attempted to contradict, minimise or doubt what the Smiths said, or to devalue the sighting in any way. 

All I have done is take the fixed point which we have and which we can definitely associate with them - ie, the payment of the bill for dinner - and then work outwards from there to see what that, together with their individual recollections and statements, tell us about the proposed timeline.

That's it.

Any other suggestion is total bollocks. And if people would use their brains they might perhaps realise that the Smith sighting was written off by the PJ because they had witnesses placing Gerry somewhere else at that time, assuming that the time was 10pm

If it wasn't 10pm, then it's back in play

For the record, I am totally convinced that they saw a man carrying a child etc. Whether it is significant, I am not sure. The fact that as far as we know nobody has come forward and identified themselves for elimination may be explained by the time being inaccurate, if indeed it is.

So there you have it.

Or you can believe Textusa's endless guff. It's up to you. Frankly, I wouldn't place too much faith in someone who claims that I am someone else, but refuses point blank to say why, at the same time demanding I provide a list of my qualifications.

For Whiterose


Evening all.

Unless you are particularly interested, you can ignore this - it's just a response to a question posed on a forum. The person in question used to post on the same forum as me.

Hi Whiterose,

You are right about 'touch DNA' and the fact that DNA can be recovered from epithelial cells.

However, it is really fraught with difficulty, simply because of the possibility of innocent contamination. Imagine you went into a shop and tried on a jumper, but you didn't like it, or it didn't fit - anyway, you end up not buying it. Then someone else does.

If something happened to them, there is the possibility that your DNA in the form of epithelial cells, could be on their garment, yet you have never been in contact with them, or harmed them in any way. There was a weird thing in the case of Milly Dowler where a microscopic bit of DNA from her clothing threw up a match on the DNA database to a sample recovered from a break in at a church hundreds of miles away. I am not sure if they were ever able to explain it, but it wasn't in any way significant in terms of her murder.

So yes, DNA can be recovered from an item that someone has touched, by collecting epithelial cells, you were quite right, but as you can see the danger of convicting someone of a crime they had nothing to do with on the basis of the fact that they once picked up a lamp in a shop that the victim later purchased, mean that it could be a long time, if ever, before it can be relied upon.

Hope that helps and hope you're well. 

Thursday, 14 June 2018

Miss B Havern

Jill Havern is a very very foolish woman.

Tonight, she posted information identifying a member of CMOMM, announced that she had been tracking his activity for two years, along with another member, and was even using it to determine which way he was voting in polls

This is not just completely unacceptable, it is against the law

Give it up, Baldylocks



How long does Bennett think he can get away with this for?

This is like the wrong Martin Smith all over again.

The satellite image he has posted for May 3rd CLEARLY SHOWS that the PdL area was cloudless by the afternoon. Endlessly repeating that “it was sunnier on Sunday”  is meaningless. The fact is, there was ample sun on the 3rd, and he should stop trying to con people. 

Wednesday, 13 June 2018

The stages of grief

The Modified Kubler-Ross model of grief



The Kate McCann stages of grief




Here, there and everywhere

Honestly, you couldn't make this up


"As we have been calling attention to lately, there has been serious attempt to rebrand Not Textusa as an anti by some well-known names on the internet. 

Many may have come to think that this has been a personal quibble between us and those people. The readers who know us, know that we don’t get into personal feuding."

Number of mentions of Madeleine on current Textusa comments page =26
Number of mentions of McCann on current Textusa comments page = 77
Number of mentions of  'Not Textusa' on current Textusa comments page = 154


Chortle. 

Edited to add:

Apparently, the above is evidence of my being a martyr, which came as a surprise because I was sure it was me taking the piss.

Anyway, the bad-tempered MariaTroll is jumping up and down demanding answers.

Maria, that's not how it works, petal. You don't get to sit there on your gigantic behind, telling lies, and get to demand anything, sweetheart.

So as a reminder, I will post this, from my thread "Jealousy"

"Okay - this is the last time I am going to reply to this particular nonsense. Textusa has dug a hole for herself so deep she may well already be speaking with an Australian accent, but I really don't see why I should waste any more of my time on a proven liar who is too thick or too lazy to grasp even the simplest concepts."

Is it all coming back to you now, angel? Excellent. 

Now fuck off, there's a good chap. 


Tuesday, 12 June 2018

Happy Families

We rejoin the intrepid pair a day or two later. They have now been joined by members of both families and an assortment of friends


That first Sunday saw two further arrivals in Luz: my childhood friends Michelle and Nicky. Both wanted to be with me, and both were naturally very upset, for Madeleine and for me. Michelle, seeing my pain, struggled to contain her own emotions and needed support herself. Nicky’s empathy manifested itself in more practical ways – she was more likely to jump up and ask what she could do. Perhaps that was her way of coping. It was good to have them both there, even if it was just to hold them, or be held by them, when I needed it.
Probably being phoned at 3am and told to pray had something to do with it 
So grateful were we to have our nearest and dearest around us, we failed to notice that our ballooning party of supporters was becoming unwieldy. It took Alan Pike, who was keeping a watchful eye on us and our family and friends, to gently draw our attention to this situation. Alan was great at seeing and anticipating difficulties and at tackling them before they got out of hand.
It seems to have been the one useful intervention he did make. I struggle to see what a large crowd of wailing relatives was going to achieve 
Everyone had felt helpless at home and had rushed out to Portugal to take care of us and to do what they could to find Madeleine.
Especially after being summonsed in the middle of the night 
When they arrived, to their dismay they felt just as helpless – perhaps more so, having made the trip in the hope of achieving something only to discover it was not within their power in Luz any more than it had been in the UK. They wanted to be with us, and we wanted them with us, but the presence of so many loved ones, some of them in almost as bad a state as we were, was proving counter-productive.
Alan pointed out that all our family and friends had their own needs but that ours, Gerry’s and mine, had to be paramount.
I'll be bloody surprised if he needed to point THAT out. 
And we scarcely had the emotional resources to prop ourselves up, let alone anyone else. He planted in our minds the idea of reducing the size of our support group. Some people would be better off at home, he said, in their own surroundings and with their own support networks, and would also be better equipped to assist us from there. He felt, too, that we would function better ourselves within a more streamlined, focused team of helpers.
Back on the bus, folks! 
Listening to Alan, it all seemed so obvious. But of course, it left us with the problem of deciding who should go and who should remain, not to mention telling them. It was clear that our parents were struggling to cope and would have more help at home. Johnny, too, seemed like a fish out of water in Praia da Luz. Michelle was very distressed and had two babies in Liverpool who needed her. After giving the matter some thought, we agreed we would ask Trisha, Sandy, Michael and Nicky to stay on. But I was dreading raising the issue for fear of offending anyone.
I'm saying nothing..... 
When it came to talking about it, however, we discovered that Alan, who had spent time with our friends and family as well as with us, had already broached this subject with them, which made it all much easier. Having said that, we ended up getting down to the nitty-gritty rather earlier than anticipated – that Sunday evening, in fact – and not in the way we had planned, either. Gerry had gone round to one of the other apartments our party was occupying, where apparently something was said that annoyed him, precipitating the discussion we’d intended to hold in a rather calmer atmosphere.
So Madeleine goes missing on Thursday, they spend Friday at the cop shop, folks arrive over the weekend, and by Sunday they have been asked if they would mind fucking off.  
We can laugh about it now, but at the time, Gerry and I couldn’t laugh at anything. After the bombshell had been dropped, Gerry’s mum had turned to my mum and said, ‘Well, Sue – it looks as if we’re on the “Granny Express” home!’ We also heard that after Gerry left, there had been a few cracks about ‘Big Brother evictions’. However bleak the situation, whenever a roomful of Glaswegians and Liverpudlians is gathered together, you can guarantee some gallows humour will break through. Still, a decision had to be made and, as it turned out, it was the right one for everybody.
I should think it was, seeing as 750 of your closest friends and relatives turned up in the first few days, and the only reason Aunty Phil wasn't there was because it would have meant offloading everyone's luggage. 
As some of our family and friends prepared to return to the UK in a day or so, we were beginning to become aware of the help being offered locally. We had that Sunday morning experienced the warmth and sympathy of the Portuguese community and soon we would find supporters among the British expatriates living permanently in Praia da Luz, who organized a search of the area around Luz the next morning, Monday 7 May. The volunteers were joined by most of our family and friends, keen to do something practical to help while Gerry and I were tied up with Andy Bowes and Alex Woolfall.
Honestly, you couldn't make it up, could you? 
The remainder of our party – namely my mum and dad, Gerry’s mum and Auntie Norah (I’m probably best not describing them as ‘the oldies’) – walked down to a café near the beach. This day provided us with a good example of one of the disadvantages of a large group: unless it is coordinated with military precision, people do not always know who is doing what and tasks can slip through the net. When lunchtime came, Gerry and I were in the middle of another meeting when we discovered there was no one around to collect Sean and Amelie. We had to interrupt proceedings and go to the Toddler Club ourselves, phoning round our friends and family en route to try to get somebody who wasn’t too far away to come back and give them their lunch. A classic case of too many cooks. Or in this instance, not enough!
Well, god forbid you should have to look after your own children for an hour.  
Once we were left with our leaner support group, we allocated general roles: Trisha and Nicky took over the childcare, while Sandy and Michael dealt with mail, admin and finances. Trish and Sandy ended up staying with us for three solid months. I don’t know what we’d have done without them.
Some fucking work, perhaps? 

Monday, 11 June 2018

Answers on a postcard please






"Please do not confuse us not thinking to be correct with us not considering the decision to give it legal value to be illegal or illegitimate."

Que? 

Cloud cover my arse

Click here


Evening all

Right - finally found time to come back to this. Apologies for the post-and-run yesterday

So, Baldylocks Bennett tweeted a weather satellite image, supposedly showing Portugal under cloud cover at 1pm on 3rd May 2007 and which he claims is ''proof'' of his bonkers theory that the ''Last Photo'' was taken on the previous Sunday.

Here is the tweet



So it would appear that, along with his many other deficiencies, Bennett is also crap at Geography. And at using the zoom function

Because here is the location of PdL




Can you see it?

Practically at the tip of the mainland, on that last sticky-out bit..

And here is what you see when you zoom in on Baldy's pic: the PdL area with virtually no cloud cover, and ideal conditions for a piccy by the pool

Should have gone to Specsavers






Sunday, 10 June 2018

The next day

We pick up the narrative again on Saturday 5th May


At the police station that first afternoon, Guilhermino Encarnação had briefly mentioned three potential explanations for Madeleine’s disappearance: a burglary that had ‘changed direction’, abduction and the possibility that she had wandered off by herself.
I can think of another, but we'll let that go for now 
In the coming months we would learn that burglaries were rife on that stretch of the Algarve coast (in Praia da Luz, burglars were ‘like mice’, according to one resident), and although it is difficult to imagine how a burglary could escalate into an abduction, we now know that this is not unheard of.
Oh yes - every burglar I know goes about tooled up to sedate small children 
However, I have always found the third suggestion insulting to our intelligence, frankly.
Oh, here we go again.
Why is it insulting? It happens all the time. Children wander. They have no sense of danger, no ability to assess risk and at that age have an amazing strength/weight ratio. Get out of a cot? Piece of piss. Scale a child-proof gate? Hold my milk.

This view of Madeleine's supposed inability to exit under her own steam is greatly at odds with Katie's  little chat with her friends about leaving the door open so Madeleine could come looking for them, or Clarence's imbecilic suggestion that the door was left open in case of fire, at which point Madeleine would presumably marshal the others out in an orderly fashion.

The ability of children to get themselves into trouble is why we don't leave the little fuckers home alone
Obviously, the police are obliged to consider all possible scenarios but there was no doubt in our minds that Madeleine had not left that apartment of her own accord.
Of course there wasn't. 
For a start there was Jane’s sighting of what was, in all likelihood, Madeleine being carried off.
Nope. 
Even if you set that aside, there was no way a three-year-old would have been able to raise the shutters and open the window in the children’s room.
But Kate, surely those had been forced from the outside by the fingerprint-less burglar?  
To give any credence whatsoever to the idea that Madeleine could have walked out on her own you would have to accept that she had gone out the back way, pulling aside the sitting-room curtains and drawing them again, then opening the patio door, the child-safety gate at the top of the stairs on the veranda and the little gate to the road – and carefully closing all three behind her. What three-year-old do you know who would do that?
All of them. 
And we knew our Madeleine. She simply would not wander off like this.
...if she knew what was good for her 
This theory was not only insulting, it was, much more importantly, frighteningly damaging to the chances of finding Madeleine quickly.
Insulting. Why is it insulting? It happens, so they have to consider it, you crabby witch. 
 
If the police were wasting precious time pursuing it they were not going to be looking in the right places, or taking the appropriate type of action.
ie, going in the direction we suggested, Africa, Antarctica and Amsterdam
In the first few days we gained the impression that this was exactly what was happening. Certainly their initial searches were all geared to looking for a stray child who had become lost in or around Luz.
Because that's what police the world over do, you ungrateful cow. They clear the ground under their feet first. How fucking DARE you presume to tell them how to do their job, when you absolutely sucked at yours? 
We would later hear from the British police that it took until 10am on Friday, almost twelve hours after the alarm was raised, for roadblocks and checks to be put in place.
Well don't lose a kid then 
And it would be five more days before Interpol circulated a ‘yellow notice’ (global alert) to each of its member countries.
When has that EVER happened in a missing child case? All it does is create additional bullshit sightings and more work. 
We subsequently learned that less than fifty minutes after Jane’s sighting – when I had still to discover that Madeleine was missing – a family of nine from Ireland had also seen a man carrying a child, this time on Rua da Escola Primária, a few minutes’ walk from apartment 5A, heading towards Rua 25 de Abril. Their description was remarkably similar to Jane’s. The man was in his mid thirties, 1.75 to 1.8 metres tall and of slim to normal build. These witnesses, too, said this person didn’t look like a tourist. They couldn’t quite put their finger on why, but again they felt it might have been because of what he was wearing. They also mentioned cream or beige trousers. The child, a little girl of about four with medium-blonde hair, was lying with her head towards the man’s left shoulder. She was wearing light-coloured pyjamas, had nothing on her feet and there was no blanket over her. Although, like Jane, this family had taken this man and child for father and daughter,
*Tries not to laugh out loud. Fails miserably* 
they commented that the man did not look comfortable carrying the child, as if he wasn’t used to it.
Lazy bastard. 
*

Saturday 5 May was the day we should have been going home, as many other Mark Warner guests were doing. The police would just allow all these people to leave the country without delaying any departures to interview potential witnesses – or even, perhaps, potential suspects.
They had absolutely no powers whatsoever to prevent them leaving and a system had already been put in place for the UK police to followup with them 
Our own friends remained at the Ocean Club. They took it as read that they ought to stay around to be available to the police, but in any case, I’m sure they wouldn’t have dreamed of flying back to the UK without us in these awful circumstances.
I would have. Although I'd be worried you would stick the knife in me the minute I was gone. 
Gerry and I awoke at four o’clock that morning, having slept for barely a couple of hours, still feeling wretched and utterly abandoned by the PJ in Portimão.
Utterly abandoned?!

They had dropped them back off only a few hours earlier, provided them with mobile numbers to call and spoken to them on the phone. Ungrateful bitch. 
Both verging on hysteria, we were incapable of comforting each other. It was clear we were struggling to keep our heads above water.
Having been so late back from the police station the previous evening, we’d decided to wait until morning to meet the trauma psychologist, Alan Pike. But by this point we realized that we needed help urgently.
Why? Not enough attention? 
Just before 5am Gerry rang Craig Mayhew, the Mark Warner overseas manager, and asked if Alan would be able to come and see us. He was at the door of our apartment by 6am.
Yes,  why not share the misery and call people at 5am? 
Alan is a clinical partner at the Centre for Crisis Psychology, pioneers in psychological trauma aftercare following disasters at home and abroad. They have worked with the families and survivors of the Bradford fire, the sinking of the Herald of Free Enterprise, the World Trade Center terrorist attacks and the 2004 tsunami, to name just a few. Alan himself, we would learn, had been involved in the aftermath of, among other horrors, coach crashes in Gran Canaria, Cuba and South Africa, three hurricanes and the terrorist bombing at Sharm el Sheikh two years earlier.
Not bad for someone with few qualifications 
Alan must be used to seeing people in states of profound distress, and he certainly found two in apartment 4G at the Ocean Club. By this stage I was beginning to feel that there just wasn’t any way up. He started by asking us about our home, our family and our normal lives. He told us we seemed like model parents. I
Jesus fucking christ 
cannot overstate how much such kind reassurance meant to us at that moment. We were both feeling so desperately guilty.
Good. 
Whatever we had or had not done right,
Had or had not done? Still can't accept you were in the wrong, can you,Katie? 
we were Madeleine’s parents and in our own eyes we had failed to keep her safe. We struggled to bear that sense of guilt and we always will.
Quite rightly. 
Alan got us talking, encouraging us to try to think rationally about what we were saying, and we talked a lot, for several hours. We faced our biggest fear: that Madeleine had been taken by a paedophile and killed. This was the only scenario occupying our minds just then. Alan pointed out to us that these thoughts could be no more than speculation. We didn’t know what had happened. We needed to avoid focusing on the negative and channel everything into looking forwards. ‘Madeleine might walk through that door at any minute,’ he said. ‘You need to be ready for that.’
I find this very difficult to understand. 
It is the complete antithesis of what the police do - they know that if they haven't found a child alive in the first 24 hours, they likely never will. Usually, they will start to prepare the parents for this likelihood as early as possible, not sustain them with false hope.
He discussed with us the importance of taking control of things, little by little, starting with tiny actions as simple as making ourselves a cup of tea. The effect our conversation with Alan had on us that morning was truly amazing. To say it helped would be a gross understatement. Any scepticism we might have had before about how a psychologist could possibly benefit us personally has long gone. Alan was, and remains, a saviour.
I have often wondered how accurate a reflection this actually is of the dialogue  between them. It is as if they seized upon something he said and used it to  create a smokescreen that they were being brave and positive and ''keeping hope alive'' when what he had succeeded in doing was providing them with a cover story for why they were not showing behaviour more redolent of terrified parents tortured by thoughts of what was happening to their child

In Memoriam




PS

I can't resist it, I am just going to add this passage.


We have said previously and say that this compound is syrupy. Although the exact composition of the compound remains unknown to science, cadaverine is one of the range of substances and is syrupy. Those mocking us for saying that it’s syrupy please take the issue up with the scientific community and not with us:
https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=cadaverine%20syrup

As it’s syrupy, or greasy, when in contact with other surfaces this substance, what we call cadaver compound, adheres to it and contaminates it.

I'm not going to explain the whole process again, because there is obviously a huge bit missing between reality and Textusa's brain, like the unfinished motorway in the film ''Speed'' and there is no way her little grey cells are going to have enough revs to cross that fucking chasm.

Let me just assure those wondering what the buggering bollocks she is on about that corpses do not secrete liquid cadaverine or this mythical compound she has invented. If you want liquid cadaverine you need a lot of bacteria, a fuck load of protein, barrels of solvent, a bunsen burner and a fractionation column. If God had wanted us to dissolve away an hour after death into a sticky, foul smelling puddle, he would have shoved a fractionation column up our arses or at least made us extras in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, where dead body disposal is aided by turning into dust or oozing away down a drain. 

Saturday, 9 June 2018

Why are we waiting? Why are we waiting.........



Evening all.


So we left Kate at the police station where she was appalled by the fact that no-one had offered her a complimentary head massage, forgetting for a moment that she was in the cop shop and not the fucking hairdressers


The next part covers her interview, with Gerry sitting in, where they both inexplicably forget to mention the drugged twins.





Back at the police station in Portimão, it was gone two o’clock before I was interviewed. As João Carlos led me up the stairs, I inquired whether he had any children. He told me he hadn’t. ‘But don’t worry. We will find your daughter.’ It was exactly what I was yearning to hear.
Gone two o'clock, but not the middle of the night. Anyone would think they had been waiting for days 
I was taken into a large room containing several desks. Gerry had asked João Carlos if he could be allowed to stay with me while I was questioned because he was extremely worried about my psychological state. I was grateful to João Carlos for agreeing, with the proviso that Gerry remained seated behind me.
Something which most certainly would not be permitted here 
I appreciate now that this would not be acceptable practice in most police investigations. João Carlos interviewed me, assisted by a young female interpreter. He put his questions in Portuguese, the interpreter relayed them to me in English and then she translated my answers into Portuguese. The interview was neither videoed nor audio-taped. Instead João Carlos tapped my answers, as given to him in Portuguese by the interpreter, into his computer. As you can imagine, it was an incredibly laborious process. My eyes were still continually drawn towards the clock, or my watch, and as the minutes and then the hours ticked by my body became more and more tense.
Not exactly the patient sort, is she? 
The officer began with how we came to be in Portugal and then concentrated on the point at which I discovered Madeleine was missing. When he asked me if it was the first time I had been to Portugal I said, ‘Yes. Never again!’
I honestly find this remark completely bizarre. It is the sort of thing you would say when an airline has lost your luggage, or the accommodation was rubbish.

The interpreter turned to me and said, ‘Mrs McCann, this could have happened anywhere.’ She was right, of course, and I was a bit ashamed of that remark, but in the circumstances it was hardly surprising I felt that way at that moment.
How about feeling that you shouldn't have left your kids alone? How about the fact that these nice people were being put to a load of trouble because you wouldn't look after your children properly? 
As I recounted how I’d found Madeleine’s bedclothes neatly folded back my voice faltered. Every now and then Gerry would put a hand on my shoulder or give me a reassuring squeeze.
And he definitely should not have been allowed to do that either 
The interview lasted four long hours.
That isn't actually a long time at all. Often statements are far longer 
Afterwards, we met Guilhermino Encarnação, the director of the Algarve Polícia Judiciária, based in Faro, who was overseeing the investigation. He told us that somebody would be in touch with us later that night with an update and gave us a telephone number to call if we had any questions. I’m fairly certain this was the number of an officer at Portimão called Tavares de Almeida. In addition, he said, Portimão would be able to get hold of him via his mobile phone at any time if we needed to speak to him.
Now, I don't know about you, but that sounds to me like people going out of their way to be helpful. Would our police be handing mobile numbers out to half-witted holidaymakers who had neglected their children? I'm guessing not.
Meanwhile, Fiona, Russell, Rachael and Dianne had been brought to the police station for their interviews, which stretched from late afternoon into the evening.
It was seven-thirty by the time one of the PJ officers drove us away from the police station.
Boo fucking hoo. 
Angela Morado came with us. Ten or fifteen minutes into our journey, the police officer had a call from his station. He said something to Angela, who explained that he’d been ordered to return us to the police station straight away. He wasn’t allowed to tell us why. Already driving at quite a scary speed, he suddenly swung the car into a U-turn, floored the accelerator and drove us at a life-threatening 120mph plus back towards Portimão. I cannot overstate how terrifying this was. Had Madeleine been found? Please God. Was she alive? Was she dead? Gerry and I clung on to each other for dear life. I was crying hysterically and praying for all I was worth.
I bet you were...... 
Back at the police station we endured at least another ten minutes of torture
Me, myself, I.........

Torture, 
endured,
pain, waaaah........ 
in the waiting area before somebody showed us a photograph, clearly taken from CCTV, of a blonde child with a woman in a petrol-station shop. We weren’t told anything about this, just asked whether the little girl was Madeleine. She wasn’t. And that was that. Again we were sent on our way, utterly devastated.
You mean, again you were chauffeured home? Ungrateful cow. 
We were completely unprepared for what we found when we drove back into Praia da Luz some time after 8.30pm. The road outside our apartment block was lined with what seemed like hundreds of press and TV crews, five or six deep all the way.
Well, that might have had something to do with the fact that you had spent all night phoning the fuckers, Katie. 
Although he didn’t say anything to me then, as soon as he saw all this Gerry knew it was likely to lead to a terrible invasion of our privacy at the most difficult time of our lives.
Boo fucking hoo. Jesus, this woman is seriously getting on my tits now....... 
We’d never been exposed to the glare of the media ourselves, but we were aware to some extent from what had happened to other people how intrusive the press, and in particular the tabloid newspapers, could be.
Well, you should have thought of that before you started phoning them, halfwit. 
No such implications registered with me at that stage. I was only able to think about anything for a second at a time.
We stepped out of the police car amid clicking, whirring cameras and dazzling lights. To suddenly become the focus of such attention – fiercely acute, and yet at the same time disconnected, impersonal, as if we were some rare species in a zoo – was bewildering, and it certainly increased my already rocketing stress levels.
Me, myself, I ......
But in some ways this was just another bizarre scene in a bad dream from which I couldn’t seem to wake myself up.
Upstairs our new apartment, 4G, was heaving with people. Among them were my mum, dad and Auntie Norah, who had arrived from the UK. Norah, on a visit from Canada, had been booked to return today but had immediately cancelled her flight home and had come with my parents to support us instead. As we embraced them one by one we found ourselves unable to let go. We were all sobbing. It was so hard seeing each other like this. It was all such a blur I can’t be absolutely certain who else was there that night, but I think I remember John Hill, Emma Knights and Craig Mayhew from Mark Warner, and Ambassador John Buck, British consul Bill Henderson and Angela Morado, who had accompanied us back from Portimão. There were some new faces, too: Liz Dow, the British consul for Lisbon, British Embassy press officer Andy Bowes and Alex Woolfall, a PR crisis-management specialist from Bell Pottinger in the UK, who had been drafted in by Mark Warner, as had a trauma psychologist from the Centre for Crisis Psychology (CCP) in north Yorkshire, who had now also arrived in Luz.
But no-one is helping us. Whaaaaah........ 
Mark Warner had arranged for the Ocean Club staff to bring food for us up to the apartment, but I still couldn’t manage anything.
You couldn't manage anything, but you did have time to mentally berate the PJ for not knocking up a pan of scouse for you 
All I wanted at that moment was to see Sean and Amelie. Emma had been looking after them and had not long before put them into their cots, but I went in to see them anyway. My need to be with them outweighed any concerns about disrupting their sleep.
I just, I can't even...... 
For the first time I noticed the ugly purple, blue and black bruises on the sides of my hands, wrists and forearms. I was shocked. Gerry reminded me of how I’d been banging my clenched fists on the veranda railing and the apartment walls the night before. I could only vaguely remember it.
Maybe it's just me, but I find that rather disturbing. Is that really normal behaviour? 
In spite of his misgivings about the media, Gerry decided that he wanted to make a statement to them.
I bet he was loving every second of it 
He knew we had to try to reach anyone who might know something. My stomach knotted at the mere thought of it. I’ve never been one for speaking in front of an audience, and I certainly couldn’t imagine doing so now, when our daughter had just been abducted. Gerry told the people assembled in the apartment what he was intending to do. Nobody objected or advised him against it – but then, there was no one taking overall control of the situation,
Another complaint. 
other than Alex Woolfall, whose primary role was to act for Mark Warner. So Gerry sat down and drafted a statement on a piece of scrap paper. It took him only a few minutes.
I accompanied him downstairs. As we left I grabbed Madeleine’s Cuddle Cat. Keeping her beloved toy close was the nearest I could be to her. I was very troubled that she didn’t have Cuddle Cat with her. Just being able to hold something familiar might have given her a crumb of comfort. It was 10pm, it was dark and I found the huge crowd and incessant flashbulbs incredibly intimidating. I was only grateful that at least Gerry was used to public speaking and I wouldn’t have to say anything, though it wasn’t easy for him, either. This was hardly the same as addressing a conference and he was completely traumatized. His voice cracked with emotion as he read out his statement by torchlight.

Words cannot describe the anguish and despair that we are feeling as the parents of our beautiful daughter Madeleine.
We request that anyone who may have information relating to Madeleine’s disappearance, no matter how trivial, contact the Portuguese police and help us get her back safely.
Please, if you have Madeleine, let her come home to her mummy, daddy, brother and sister.
As everyone can understand how distressing the current situation is, we ask that our privacy is respected to allow us to continue assisting the police in their current investigation.
Please respect our privacy and come to our daily press calls. If you're really lucky, we'll let you know how this is affecting our sex life. 

Please God, this appeal would reach somebody who knew something.
I’m not entirely sure how Gerry managed to deliver a statement on that first day, or exactly what made him feel that he must. Obviously he believed that begging the abductor to give Madeleine back, and urging anyone who might have seen or know anything to come forward, could only help. He was also aware that in the UK it would probably be expected of parents in our situation to make some kind of statement or appeal – though that was not, as we would learn, the case in Portugal.
Later that evening, we were visited by the Anglican minister and his wife who were temporarily serving the Church of England community in Luz until the arrival at the weekend of a new minister from Canada. As the Catholic priest was away on retreat, they had come to offer their support to Gerry, me and our family, which we greatly appreciated. They said some prayers with us and I remember the minister reading out the passage in St Mark’s gospel which begins: ‘Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God,’ which took me back to my own childhood.
By midnight we’d had no more word from the police about what, if anything, was happening.
That was probably because there was no news and they had been working all day 
More than twenty-four hours had elapsed since Madeleine had been snatched. The pain, dread and sense of powerlessness were tearing me apart. I rang the telephone number given to me by Guilhermino Encarnação and got through to the PJ at Portimão, although it wasn’t at all clear to whom I was actually speaking. I tried to convey just how traumatic the lack of communication was for us, but I didn’t seem to be getting anywhere.
So she's been back about two hours and she is already on the phone. bellyaching 
I explained that Dr Encarnação had invited us to call at any time if we had any concerns and asked to be put through to him. I was told it wasn’t possible. All I was told was that ‘everything that can be done is being done’. It was a line we were to hear many more times in the next twenty-four hours. How hollow it seems now.
I just find this really offensive. The PJ were putting together the biggest search in their history and all this pair could do was moan and whine and complain 
Gerry took the phone to see if he would fare any better. He didn’t.
Good. 
The frustration and anger were reaching boiling point. I felt like a caged, demented animal. This was, without doubt, torture of the cruellest kind.
Torture. Her child is supposedly missing, being subjected to god knows what, and she is wittering on about HER torture? 
Finally, I erupted. I began to scream, swear and lash out. I kicked an extra bed that had been brought into the apartment and smashed the end right off it. Then came the inevitable tears. Prostrate on the floor, sobbing like a baby, I felt utterly defeated and broken.
Or in other words, you threw an almighty tantrum 
After making several calls seeking help from Liz Dow, around two in the morning we both went to lie down for a while.
What did she expect these people to do? I bet she made their lives hell. 
I had not slept in over forty-two hours. I was completely exhausted and my whole body was racked with pain.
Oh fuck off, Kate. 
But I was unable to lie quietly. I felt very cold and restless. My limbs writhed and jerked continually, as if I were compelled to keep moving them to shake off the agony that held me in its grip. This restlessness was something I was going to get used to in the months to come.
Still in the dark as to what was being done to help find our daughter – if anything was being done to find her – Gerry and I prayed together and eventually drifted into a brief and fitful sleep.
What an ungrateful pair of wankers