Tracey Ann Patient should be in the golden years of her life. She’d be nearing retirement age to spend more time with her family, perhaps travel to a new country overseas, or just ride the horses she loved so much.
Instead, Tracey is stuck in 1976; a teenage girl smiling into the camera lens for eternity.
Today marks the 49th anniversary since she was last seen alive in West Auckland. Tracey’s body was found the next day in the Waitākere Ranges, strangled with pantyhose. Her killer has never been found.
“My family and I have not, and will never, recover from Tracey’s murder,” sister Debbie Sheppard says.
“My parents were robbed of their daughter, my sister Denise and I were robbed of our sister, my aunts and uncles were robbed of their niece, my grandparents were robbed of their granddaughter.
“Tracey would have been a fun and loving auntie, mum, and granny. But she was robbed of that opportunity.”
Tracey Patient and her family emigrated from East London to West Auckland in 1973.
She was 11 and her sister Debbie was 13. The pair were close and stood up for each other at school in Henderson, when they were picked on because of their Cockney accents.
But it didn’t take long for the Patient girls to settle into their new lives.
They enjoyed going to the beach on the weekends, camping, attending church youth group, listening to music at the record store, going to the cinema or having friends to stay over.
Tracey also loved horses and started turning up at a local stables looking for work.
“She spent a lot of time there; mucking out the stalls, cleaning the tack and grooming the horses, in exchange for the opportunity to ride their horses,” says Debbie Sheppard.
“She was good at sports too, including netball and athletics.”
It was an idyllic childhood until January 29, 1976.
Debbie and Tracey went to the movies that day with their mother, younger sister Denise, a neighbour and her children.
The Doobie Brothers were playing a concert at Western Springs that night, and Debbie was desperate to go. Her mother finally relented, so sensing an opportunity, Tracey asked if she could visit her friend Lynette who lived nearby.
“Mum felt that she couldn’t say no,” Debbie says.
The sisters left their home on Dellwood Ave together that night until parting ways at Great North Rd. Tracey turned left, Debbie turned right.
“She said ‘see you later then’ and I said ‘yeah, see you later’. That was the last time I ever saw my sister,” Debbie says.
“It still haunts me that I never turned around to say goodbye. I thought I would be seeing her later that night and we would sit and discuss our evening, like we always did.”
Debbie never made it to the concert as her boyfriend stood her up. She caught the bus home and arrived around 10pm to find her parents were worried. Tracey’s curfew was 9.30pm but she was not home, despite having left her friend’s place some time earlier.
Debbie and her father drove around Henderson looking for her.
“I remember thinking ‘What is she playing at?’ I never for one moment thought that something bad might have happened to her,” Debbie says.
“Nothing bad ever happened in Henderson. Or so we all thought.”
The next day, a neighbour took Tracey’s father to the Henderson police station. She remembers what happened next as if it were yesterday.
“Dad walked in and I could see straight away that something was very wrong. Denise said ‘When is Tracey coming home, Daddy?’ My dad said, ‘she’s not coming home’,” Debbie says.
“Denise asked why and he said ‘Because someone killed her’. My mum and dad broke down. Denise started screaming ‘no, no, no, no’ over and over. I was in a state of total shock.”
A man walking his dog found her body in the Waitākere Ranges. She had been strangled with pantyhose.
The police opened a homicide investigation in which they interviewed hundreds of people over the subsequent weeks and months.
The last known sighting of Tracey Patient was at 9.30pm outside the old Henderson police station on Great North Rd.
She said goodbye to her friend, who had walked with her to the intersection with Edmonton Rd, before crossing the road to ask an elderly couple what the time was.
Appearing upset that she was late, Tracey ran towards her home just 1.6km away. She never made it.
Debbie Sheppard describes the next few months as a “living nightmare”.
She remembers being invited to a friend’s house for dinner a few weeks after Tracey was murdered. They were eating in the dining room, and the television was on in the room next door.
Everyone could hear Debbie’s father speaking on the television news as part of a police appeal for information.
“I could see how awkward everyone felt. I had already experienced grown adults crossing the street rather than speak to me,” Debbie says.
“It upset me at the time but I now know that it was because they just didn’t know what to say to me.”
Despite interviewing hundreds of potential suspects, the police investigation never uncovered what happened to her.
The Patient family moved back to England, and tried to get on with their lives but struggled without Tracey.
Then nearly two years after Tracey was killed, there was an incredible update. The police received an anonymous phone call in November 1977 that tipped them off about a signet ring in a rubbish bin in the Avondale shopping mall.
The anonymous tipster also quoted the number 126040. Police found the ring, which Tracey was believed to be wearing at the time of her murder. But police were unable to trace the call, or decipher the code. Decades later, the case remains unsolved despite thousands of hours of investigative work looking into 670 suspects.
Detective Sergeant Murray Free, one of the most experienced investigators in Waitematā, has been the officer in charge of the file for about 20 years.
He says the search for Tracey’s killer is ongoing.
“Regardless of how much time has passed, I know how deeply this has impacted her family,” Free says.
“I would still love to hear from anyone who has information that will help our investigation.
“There may be a person who has sat on knowledge for many years. I encourage them to come forward.”
Now 64, Debbie Sheppard is a married grandmother who lives near London. She has lived a full life in the 49 years since Tracey’s murder but the impact of her sister’s death lingers.
To this day, if her husband or another loved one leaves the house, Debbie has to look at them to say goodbye.
“I know this is completely crazy, but I’m scared something will happen to them if I don’t.”
She is also certain that somebody knows who murdered her sister, and even 49 years later urged them to speak up.
“Please speak to the police. Even if the person you suspect is dead. Nobody will judge you for not coming forward before.”
Any information about the murder of Tracey Ann Patient can be reported via Crime Stoppers anonymously on 0800 555 111. Information can also be reported to Police through 105, using the reference number 990810/0373.
Jared Savage covers crime and justice issues, with a particular interest in organised crime. He joined the Herald in 2006 and has won a dozen journalism awards in that time, including twice being named Reporter of the Year. He is also the author of Gangland and Gangster’s Paradise.