Baby Carrie buried as hunt continues for mother

THE white coffin was so tiny it sat snugly in the arms of one police officer who carried it easily from hearse to graveside.

It was no physical burden on Detective Sergeant Lyndsey McNair, only an emotional one.

She came back moments later carrying the big cuddly bear which had kept watch throughout the funeral service, and placed him softly on the grass where he could again keep guard.

Then she returned a second time, gently shepherding the four local children who were out playing when they found the newborn baby now laid out in the tiny coffin.

The two boys and two girls, aged 10 and 11, clutched flowers, toys and cards which they painstakingly placed in order around the gap in the earth.

The grave was ready then and though it was only work for one man, the two undertakers stood either side of the coffin and slowly lowered it down on white silk ribbons.

All around, women wept and men stood in sorrowful silence.

To see such tenderness from strangers is to wonder why the mother of Baby Carrie had so much to fear from discovery of her pregnancy that she could not or would not seek help for herself and her newborn.

Instead the panicked woman or someone who knew her or perhaps even both of them, stabbed Carrie with a knife and hit her head until the tiny infant was dead. Then her body was left in a bin bag by a path known as the Duck Walk in the grounds of a leisure centre where somebody was bound to find her.

Whoever left her there wanted her to be found but didn’t want to be found out and that is the mystifying contradiction that, five months on, leaves police frustrated in their investigations.

The police gave Carrie her name, calling her after Carryduff, the town where she was found and which has taken her to heart since the search for the truth behind her death began.

As she was being laid to rest yesterday, posters remained in shop windows around the town, bearing an artist’s impression of what Carrie was believed to have looked like and a message urging her mum to identify herself.

It was only the latest in a series of initiatives police employed to try to coax the missing mother out of the shadows of what surely must be a fearful and regretful existence.

During the summer they asked the 600 local women in the 13-45 age group to volunteer for DNA tests to eliminate the possibility that they had anything to do with the tragedy.

The request raised discomfort in the community but enough women agreed to make the police satisfied it was a worthwhile exercise. It did not substantially narrow down the search, however, for while the place where Baby Carrie was left suggests local knowledge, the mother could quite possibly be from nearby Belfast or beyond.

The police held off releasing Carrie’s body for burial for as long as they could but finally decided it was time to let her go. They will, not, however, let go of their search for answers.

And neither will the wider community. At the interdenominational funeral service which preceded Carrie’s burial, the priests who led the prayers and hymns kept the appeal for information alive.

Methodist minister, Reverend Robert Loney asked for prayers for “those closely involved in this tragedy”.

But in looking for the truth about Carrie, the public and police are also looking for a murderer.

The Police Ombudsman, Nuala O'Loan, who provided independent monitoring for the destruction of DNA samples after testing during the summer, sent a wreath to Carrie’s funeral with a message. “May you rest gently,” was its simple wish.