The day the search for Coral ended

Along the lonely road which leads to Lake Onoke on the south Wairarapa coast, the first sombre procession of the new day began.

Detective Inspector Rod Drew, whose serious face had become familiar to the nation during the search for Coral-Ellen Burrows, drove through the night in a police car, on his way to check new information for himself.

It was the moment he had been waiting for and dreading.

In the preceding 10 days, hundreds of police and civilian searchers scoured hundreds of kilometres of rugged terrain around Featherston for signs of the little girl who did not make it to class on Tuesday, September 9.

Lake Onoke had never figured in the police search area, but by early yesterday Mr Drew had reason to be going there.

After days of sheer frustration, there had been sudden, rapid developments.

Whatever or whoever directed Mr Drew to this desolate spot, he was not about to say, lest it jeopardise any future court case.

"It's only since the investigation has generated certain information that it's become an area of importance," is all he would give away.

At the end of the road that wound down the western side of Lake Wairarapa was Lake Onoke, a favourite of fishermen, whitebaiters and duck shooters. On the eastern side of the lake is the settlement of Lake Ferry.

Mr Drew headed to an area of swamp and marsh down a muddy track lined with thick tussock.

It was too dark to see the small body in the thicket of toetoe which had been manipulated to form a duckshooter's maimai, but Mr Drew had seen enough to confirm that, come daybreak, this was the spot where the little girl who had consumed his every conscious moment since he took over the inquiry the day after she disappeared would be found.

He ordered the area to be cordoned off, with two police cars parked next to an old tractor blocking the road.

For Mr Drew, a 29-year veteran of the police and a resident of nearby Masterton, finally discovering the place where Coral's body would be found was a grim breakthrough.

But perhaps the most joyless task of his day was breaking the news to Coral's parents.

Such were the demands of the inquiry that Coral's mother, Jeanna Cremen, had moved out of the house at 70 Woodward St where she had raised Coral, Coral's brother Storm, 8, and to where she had brought 7-week-old half-brother Luke, born to Steven Williams.

Police had spent days combing the property for clues.

Coral's father, Ron Burrows, lived in Te Puke, although he had spent the past 10 days in Featherston searching and crying out his daughter's name in the hope she would hear.

When Mr Drew came to tell Ms Cremen his news, Williams was not there. Since Friday last week, the 29-year-old had been in Rimutaka Prison, where he was taken after being arrested on charges that police said were unrelated to his step-daughter's disappearance.

Since the first day of the search, police had acknowledged that they were interested in Williams. He was, after all, the last adult known to have seen Coral alive, having left the house about 8am that Tuesday with her and Storm bound for South Featherston School.

He told police he had dropped them both off, but by the end of the day it became alarmingly evident that Coral had never made it to class.

On Thursday, Williams rang Ms Cremen from prison to deny that he had anything to do with Coral's disappearance. She believed him, she said.

Early yesterday morning, Mr Drew told her and Mr Burrows the gut-wrenching news that Williams had been charged with murder and and that police believed they knew where Coral's body was.

A grim police press release began whirring off newsroom faxes about 2am, announcing a man stood accused of her murder and a patch of the south Wairarapa coast had been cordoned off. Six hours later, Mr Drew went live on breakfast television at a press conference called to bring the nation up to date. Yes, he confirmed, a man would be appearing in court but, no, he could not say who he was. The issue of identity was one for the court to decide.

Acknowledging the outpouring of public grief over the plight of this little girl, and the toil and sweat put in by his police colleagues and the community, he said: "Inquiries like this, of course, generate a great deal of feeling in the community and amongst the investigative team as well. The arrest is certainly another piece in the puzzle of Coral's disapperance but there's still an awful lot of work to be done and the inquiry team will be refocusing today to continue the work to resolve all of the mystery surrounding her disappearance."

By the time the press conference ended, crowds were already beginning to gather outside the Masterton District Court.

About 60 people were there by the time a prison van turned up. Instinctively, everyone knew Williams was inside, although they could not see him.

They thrashed out their anger on the sides of the van, and gave voice to their desire for vengence, shouting "murderer", "hang yourself", "your number's up" and "you can't hide forever".

Elderly women, tough-looking men and small children were amongthe throng.

An off duty Masterton security guard explained it was his birthday and his children had given him presents that morning, which he'd chosen not to open until he got home, having seen for himself the man accused of being a child-killer. "I feel for the father," the man said.

A woman in her mid-50s wept. Images of Coral out in the elements had invaded her mind, making sleep those past nights impossible.

The van pulled into the secure yard that separates Masterton's police station from the adjacent courthouse. Williams emerged to the cacophany, handcuffed between a prison guard and a policeman, his free hand raised as if to sheild him from the taunts as well as the cameras. Someone threw an egg.

Inside the court, it was just as tense. Coral's mum and dad were there, among 20 family and close friends who had been escorted into the building by a side-door. Most were still dressed in the outdoor clothing they wore during the search.

They took up seats, reserved for them, as the rest of the public gallery filled up. A line of police officers forming a barrier between the public and the dock.

Mrs Cremen, dressed in dark trousers, brown boots and a charcoal top, sat beside Ron's partner Sarah Wastney, who held her son, Slade.

Pale and expressionless, Mrs Cremen gave a slight smile when Slade sat on her knee.

Wellington police district commander John Kelly walked over to Mr Burrows and Mrs Cremen, briefly embracing them before taking a seat.

It was 45 minutes after the scheduled 10am start time that Justice of the Peace Ken Wilton entered and Williams' name was called.

Lips trembling, face ashen, all the aggression and bravado of Steven Roger Williams' previous court appearances was gone. Shuffling into the dock, he looked shattered.

"You rot in hell you piece of shit," Mr Burrows shouted. It was Williams' fourth appearance in this court since Coral went missing. This time he faced the wrath of a family which until last week he'd been part of.

Their fury matched their despair. Until Williams was charged both parents had put on record their belief he could fnot have hurt Coral.

The court appearance was over in minutes, Williams was remanded and driven back to prison, a chorus of abuse seeing the van off. "Can you see her face, can you see her face," one woman shouted as Williams was bundled into the van.

Among the crowd were those for whom the death of this little girl brought back similar sadnesses in this patch of the lower North Island.

Mark Jetson, the uncle of murdered Masterton half-sisters Saliel Aplin and Olympia Jetson, said he was waiting to see "the mongrel".

Nora Tutty's granddaughter had lived across the road from the Lundy family in Palmerston North at the time of the murder of Christine and Amber in August 2000. "Seeing this on TV has taken her right back," Mrs Tutty said. "She's having nightmares."

For all its rugged beauty, Wairarapa has had more than its share of man-made darkness. Since Raymond Ratima stabbed and bludgeoned to death two adults and five children in one of New Zealand's worst mass murders in 1992, nine Wairarapa children have met violent deaths.

In Featherston yesterday white ribbons - an anti-violence symbol worn by police and members of Coral's family during the search - fluttered from car aerials on the main street.

Adrienne Staples, chairwoman of the Featherston community board, had not taken off her white ribbon since Coral disappeared. The community, she said, had been through hell. "We have not known what to think and what to feel," she said. "Rumours have been rife."

One of the rumours the town's 2000 residents were whispering about was the role the dangerous methamphetamine drug called P may have played. Mr Drew yesterday hinted the subject may be spoken about at some stage: "There's lots I would like to say about that".

As it blinked in the nation's spotlight, Featherston held its head up. It's residents have shown the qualities Kiwis pride themselves on, rallying to a cause when things are dire.

Before the tragedy, the town's prospects were looking up. House prices have risen steadily and new businesses opened as outsiders discovered the town.

The owner of local cafe Lady Featherston and chairman of the town's promotion group, Peter March, reckons any negative reflection on Featherston will be short-lived.

"It's not unique," he said sadly. "The same things happen in other places around the country."

But Featherston - which advertises itself with the slogan "Capital Country Escape" - will naturally have wounds to heal. Confidence has been knocked, parents worry more about their children's safety. Every child on Featherston's streets yesterday afternoon was accompanied by an adult.

Parents were out in force to pick up their children from Featherston School. Coral's school, South Featherston, was deserted - its pupils let out at lunchtime for the school holidays.

Sounding emotional and exhausted, South Featherston school principal Tracey Smith said in some ways it was fortunate Coral's body was discovered the day holidays began. "It has given some closure to us," Mrs Smith said.

The news Coral had been found dead was broken to pupils by their teacher.

By 1pm, the curtains were pulled and the rooms were locked.

About the same time, preparations were being made to remove Coral's body from the shores of Lake Onoke.

Shortly after 9am, the squawks of seagulls and the rustle of an icy breeze through the plastic silage covers the only sounds, Coral's body was found in a sport where fishermen had passed metres away. Police photographers and forensic evidence experts went about their unenviable jobs.

In the early afternoon a hearse and a priest arrived to prepare for Coral's journey home. The sound of a Karakia, recited by Masterton constable Stu Martindale, was carried off on the wind. Soon after, about 1.30pm, Coral's body left for a post-mortem examination at Wellington Hospital.

As the hearse moved away, dust clouds rose behind it, dispersing gently in the thin spring sun.

Despite the emotional barrage since Mr Drew came to see them in the early hours of the morning, Coral's family bravely took centre stage at a community memorial service last night. They wrapped their arms around each other and asked everyone sing "Amazing Grace" in their daughter's honour.

Clutching his trademark beanie, Mr Burrows thanked everyone for their support. "I felt like the whole of New Zealand was my family," he said.

Behind him, Coral's white teddy bear and a picture of her with an impish grin were arranged on the stage.

Young children, some who knew Coral, were tightly held on their parents' knees while older townsfolk bowed their heads in prayer.

Local MP Georgina Beyer said Coral's family had inspired the nation to hold onto hope. "Unbelievable," she said, looking at Coral's parents. "This family will continue to need us for some time yet."

One of Coral's friends, Kimberly Dittmar, read an adapted version of a passage written by AA Milne. "All of them waiting until Coral comes back," she read quietly. Music, including Bright Eyes, You'll Never Walk Alone, and Walk With Me.

After the service, Mrs Cremen silently stared at the picture of her daughter as the crowd drifted away.

Yesterday brought both devastation and relief for those who loved Coral: the cruel finality of finding her body and relief that police believe they can show who is responsible.

It's an end and a beginning for Coral's family - dad, Ron, who refused to stop searching until his daughter was found; Storm who will never again share that bus ride to school with his little sister; newborn Luke who will know her only through family stories and news clippings, and mum, Jeanna, whose five words at a press conference tugged at us all last week: "I just want Coral home."

Well, Coral is coming home. Police have told the family they can expect her to be released to them soon.

"We are pretty unhappy about the way it has all unfolded," said Coral's uncle Karl Cremen, "It is horrible but to actually know we are soon going to have Coral back is a huge relief."

From tragedy unexpected bonds had come, such as that, said Mr Cremen, the family felt with all who searched, those who sent food, the vast numbers who sent messages: those who cared.

Jeanna Cremen and Ron Burrows, prepared this statement, their own message, after confirmation their daughter was dead.

"This is a very difficult and sad time for us and we need to come to terms with Coral's death. We remember her as a bright and friendly child. She's loved by all of us and she'll always be remembered.

"The level of support shown to us by so many people, many of them unknown, from all around New Zealand is very humbling. The kind messages of support, offers of practical help and assistance during the last 10 days will stay with us forever.

"Our plea to all New Zealanders is to treasure your children and help keep them safe."'