Belfast’s Unending Grief: Police Officer Recalls Heartbreaking Call from Noah Donohoe’s Mother – Delays, Missed CCTV, and a Mother’s Desperate Hope Dominate Latest Inquest Testimony

The courtroom at Laganside in Belfast has become a place where time stands still, where every word spoken revives the agony of a summer day in 2020 that refused to end. On February 5, 2026, Detective Constable Keatley took the stand during the ongoing inquest into the death of 14-year-old Noah Donohoe, recounting the moments she became the fragile bridge between a terrified mother and a police investigation struggling to keep pace with tragedy. As Fiona Donohoe listened from her seat, the officer described answering an incoming call on Noah’s powered-off phone—from “Mum”—and the careful, compassionate way she navigated conversations that no parent should ever have to endure. This testimony, delivered amid growing scrutiny of investigative delays, spotlights not just procedural shortcomings but the raw human cost: a boy who vanished on a bike ride, a mother clinging to hope, and a city still searching for answers in the shadows of a storm drain.

Noah Donohoe was the kind of teenager who left an impression without trying. At St Malachy’s College, he stood out for his thoughtful nature, his love of reading, and an intensity that friends described as quietly profound. He devoured books like Jordan Peterson’s “12 Rules for Life,” underlining passages and returning to them obsessively, as if seeking guidance through the complexities of adolescence. His mother, Fiona, noticed shifts in his behavior in the months before June 2020—moods that swung unpredictably, moments when he seemed distant or overwhelmed. Yet on Sunday, June 21—Father’s Day—Noah appeared calm as he wheeled his black Apollo bicycle out the door around 5:40 p.m. He carried a backpack with his laptop, mobile phone, and that beloved book, heading north to meet friends near Cavehill. It was an ordinary plan in extraordinary times, with Belfast still emerging from COVID lockdowns.

CCTV footage from the early part of his journey shows a composed boy pedaling through south Belfast streets. He passes University Street, enters the Queen’s Quarter, cycles past a man named Daryl Paul with no interaction whatsoever—a point repeatedly clarified in court to quash speculation. But as the route stretches northward, the story fractures. Noah begins shedding clothes: trainers placed neatly side by side, other items discarded along paths and walls. Witnesses glimpsed a naked adolescent on a bicycle, some mistaking the bizarre sight for a prank tied to the holiday. By Northwood Road—the last place cameras definitively captured him—Noah had abandoned his bike. Six days of frantic searching followed, culminating on June 27 when his naked body was found in a storm drain culvert near the M2 motorway, more than 600 meters downstream from an accessible entrance.

Forensic pathologists have been unequivocal: drowning caused his death, with no evidence of assault, drugs, or third-party involvement. Dr. Marjorie Turner, who performed the initial postmortem, and Dr. Nathaniel Cary, a Home Office-registered consultant, described the case as one of the most extraordinary in their experience. Major bruising to the forehead suggested a possible fall from the bike earlier, potentially contributing to disorientation. Paradoxical undressing—where hypothermia victims feel hot and strip despite cold—has been discussed, though the mild June evening complicates that theory. Terminal burrowing, a behavior where distressed individuals seek enclosed spaces, aligns with the drain’s dark confines. Noah likely entered the water alive, succumbing closer to the time of disappearance rather than days later.

Yet the inquest, now deep into its weeks of hearings under coroner Joe McCrisken, has exposed cracks in the response that followed Noah’s vanishing. Det Con Keatley’s evidence on February 5 focused on her role as family liaison during those first critical days. When Fiona repeatedly rang Noah’s phone—left behind and powered off—she answered an incoming call from “Mum” herself. “I didn’t want her getting excited” by assuming Noah had turned it back on, she explained. Later, when clothes were discovered, Keatley called Fiona personally to break the news, knowing media or rumors might spread it first. At that moment, Fiona voiced what Keatley sensed as dawning realization: her son “possibly, maybe was no longer alive.” Barristers praised the officer’s handling of these “very difficult conversations” with “a terrified mother,” acknowledging the emotional tightrope she walked.

But praise for individual compassion contrasts sharply with broader criticisms of the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI). The inquest has heard of “very little progress” in gathering CCTV the day after disappearance. Crucial footage from the Grove Leisure Centre on York Road—along Noah’s route—was not collected promptly, described as “of critical importance” yet overlooked in the initial 24 hours. House-to-house inquiries in the Northwood area began only after his last known location was pinpointed the evening after he went missing. Missing persons expert Chief Inspector Philip Robinson called the overall search “very good,” crediting training and effort, but acknowledged room for improvement amid public hostility that complicated park sweeps.

Fiona Donohoe’s legal team has pressed hard on these points, outlining alleged failings in evidence collection, logging of calls, and CCTV trawls. Anonymous tips surfaced early—one about items later linked to Daryl Paul—but the pace of recovery has fueled frustration. Paul’s possession of Noah’s backpack (containing the laptop and book) led to a theft conviction and community order, yet court has stressed no interaction occurred on June 21.

The storm drain itself emerges as a silent character in this tragedy. Witnesses described it as “easy to get into,” with an unsecured grate and overgrown surroundings that local children sometimes navigated. Broken fences and hidden entrances turned ordinary infrastructure into a potential trap. Nighttime accounts add eerie texture: a resident hearing a back door handle rattled insistently around 3 a.m. on June 22, another recalling a single high-pitched scream slicing the quiet. Proximity debates continue—access from the culvert to nearby streets deemed “not possible” by some—but the uncertainty lingers.

Noah’s case has transcended one family’s loss. Murals bearing his image appeared across Belfast soon after discovery. Vigils drew crowds transcending divides in a city long familiar with grief. Online communities debated theories—some veering into conspiracy—despite forensic consensus ruling out foul play. Fiona’s advocacy has remained steadfast: pushing for transparency, better youth mental health support, and reformed missing persons protocols. She attends hearings alone, absorbing graphic details of recovery and postmortem findings with quiet resolve that has moved observers.

As the inquest recesses until mid-February 2026 and potentially stretches into spring, the coroner prepares a verdict—likely narrative—that must balance known facts with persistent unknowns. Was an acute episode, perhaps undiagnosed neurodiversity or overwhelming distress, behind the undressing and wandering? Did early intervention opportunities slip away in the confusion of a pandemic summer? Or does the explanation lie in the inexplicable convergence of injury, confusion, and chance?

Det Con Keatley’s testimony reminds us that behind protocols and timelines stand people—officers making impossible calls, a mother hearing the worst in measured tones, a boy whose final ride ended in darkness. Noah Donohoe sought meaning in books that promised rules for life; his story now challenges society to confront its own: how we protect the vulnerable, respond to the unusual, and ensure no other family endures this endless wait for truth.

Belfast remembers. The river beneath the city flows on, carrying echoes of a life cut short, while the inquest seeks to dam the flood of questions with whatever clarity evidence allows. For Fiona, for Noah, the search continues—not just for a body, but for understanding in a world that sometimes defies it.