Ireland is transfixed by the disappearance of a giant of the Golden Age of Sinn Féin

When it happens, it could be as sensational as the other famous Stanley encounter.
What other encounter would that be?
Careful, now.
We don’t want Mary Lou hearing anything we know she knows we think she doesn’t need to know. Which could be a lot of things.
Relax. This one is from the pages of history and we are all comfortable with that.
In the 1800s Dr David Livingstone, the legendary explorer, went missing in the heart of Africa.
A giant of the Golden Age of exploration, he walked across the Kalahari Desert, traced the course of the Zambezi river and trekked from one side of the continent to the other.
Then he vanished and the world wanted to know the story.
Henry Morton Stanley tracked him down to a remote village in Tanzania in 1871. He extended a hand and uttered those famous words: “Dr Livingstone, I presume?”
Now Ireland is transfixed by the disappearance of a giant of the Golden Age of Sinn Féin.
Forty years ago, Brian Stanley trekked the midlands selling copies of An Phoblacht to hostile punters in pubs. He marched defiantly under the cold gaze of the Special Branch and sweated at ardfheiseanna behind closed doors in windowless rooms while a volunteer in a balaclava read aloud a message from the Army Council.
Now, Brian has gone missing from the Dáil chamber and hasn’t been seen for many days …
In the meantime, Leinster House has seen claim and counterclaim between Stanley and Sinn Féin since he announced his shock resignation, with the bust-up providing an unexpected post-budget bonanza for the legal profession as details of the “complaint” made against him by a party member – one he refutes – remain shrouded in mystery.
You could have stuffed a large pillowcase with all the rumours flying back and forth in Kildare Street on Wednesday about the nature of the original complaint and the specifics of Brian Stanley’s subsequent countercomplaint.
And Mary Lou McDonald, the leader of a party hoping to form the next government, when told of concerning communications which could potentially damage those electoral prospects depending on what they might be, opts to be left out of the loop and leads on without knowing if the complaints are powder puffs or powder kegs.
She doesn’t do what almost every other person in a similar position of power would do and instinctively cry: “What’s it all about, Stan-leee?”
Mary Lou doesn’t want to know. Along with party spokespeople, she is blue in the face explaining how an in-house committee conducts its inquiries “at arms’ length”.
Perhaps not the best phrase given Sinn Féin’s past history on the interrogation front, excuse the apostrophe.
Anyway, she allows herself to hear the full details only after Stanley resigns, forcing her to abandon her original “out of an abundance of caution” determination to know nothing in favour of an emergency abundance of caution approach. This involves offloading the whole sorry kit and caboodle on to An Garda Síochána, who have enough to be doing without looking into private matters which apparently are not of a criminal nature.
In a most unfortunate twist, Mary Lou, finally in possession of the details, says she cannot reveal them because they are a Garda matter.
But if Brian Stanley wants to break cover and make a statement to the Dáil, he should knock himself out (only not from the Sinn Féin benches).
Oddly enough, Government and some Opposition TDs are also calling on him to address the Dáil about the complaints confusion because they are getting nowhere with Sinn Féin. But Brian has gone missing in the political undergrowth, despite noble efforts to find him by media search parties.
It’s all quite exhausting. So the Dáil took a moment to exhale on Wednesday after going full tilt at the story on Tuesday.
The controversy didn’t figure in the chamber, although Taoiseach Simon Harris managed to keep the pressure on Sinn Féin from afar, saying the party still has serious questions to answer on the controversies engulfing the party.
But back to poor Brian Stanley, wandering somewhere in the darkest interior of Republican palace politics.
Formerly Sinn Féin chair of the Dáil’s high-profile Public Accounts Committee, its amended website now lists Chairman Stanley as an Independent TD.
But for how long? Sinn Féin moved swiftly on Wednesday to replace deputy Stanley with Galway West TD Mairéad Farrell, amid rumblings that other parties may try to block her appointment.
The committee sits first thing Thursday morning, when Catherine Murphy of the Social Democrats is expected to deputise in the chair. But could Brian, still up in lights online as leader of the PAC, turn up too?”
Will he answer the prayers of Dáil drama addicts everywhere and “Do an Enoch”?
Might he turn up for work as usual, fully suited and booted with his little satchel over his shoulder and demand to take his place at the top of the table?
And if he is not allowed to do this, might he stand silently at Catherine’s shoulder looking hurt while she reads the minutes of the last meeting? Or stand outside the committee room door until he is carted away by the ushers and incarcerated in the Ceann Comhairle’s office until Simon calls the general election?
And when Brian is found or finally breaks cover, emerging blinking into the sunlit uplands of Leinster House, the first person he encounters will surely extend a hand and utter the sensational words: “Mr Stanley, I presume?”