Copyright © Geoff Thompson 2004
The right of Geoff Thompson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, nor transmitted, nor translated into a machine language, without the written permission of the publisher.

In my research for this book I talked to and interviewed many people. I spoke to victims of attack and also to attackers. The following interviews and inserts are typical of all the interviews that I conducted, printed here with kind permission of the interviewees.

There are also extracts and letters taken from the work of my associate, top criminologist and true crime writer Christopher Berry-Dee. I found the interviews enlightening and thought-provoking, and would recommend his work highly.

I have made little comment on the following interviews, preferring you the reader to draw your own conclusions.

I hope you can learn from them as I have.

Gratuitous assault

THE ATTACKER

Nev and Steve are in their early twenties and a part of an infamous gang in Coventry. Some of the details here have been changed, at their request, to protect their identity. They are not reformed characters and are still at large.

Interviewer: Why do you pick fights with people, Steve?

Steve: I like a scrap. ’Specially at the weekend, after the pub.

Nev: [laughs] Or in the pub.

I: Can you give me an example of one incident?

Steve: Yeah, we were going to the chippie after the pub, there was about six of us when we saw this bloke with his woman. She was quite tasty so I shouted, ‘Get your tits out.’ As you do [laughs]. We all cracked up laughing. The bloke she was with didn’t look that happy though. I think he was gonna say something but his missus pulled him away. I knew he was getting heated so I thought I’d wind ’im up a bit more. I might ’ave left it but the lads were geeing me up. So I shouted ‘Fucking wimp, your woman fights all your battles for you, does she?’ That really got ’im ’cus he shouted ‘wot’s your problem?’ I could tell ’e didn’t really want to go [fight], just didn’t want to look a twat in front of ’is missus, loads of blokes are like that. Anyway, we all ran over to ’im, ’is missus was trying to pull ’im away but ’e wouldn’t ’ave any of it. We all jeered ’im and I said, ‘D’you want some then?’ He tried to tell me that I was out of order talking to ’is missus like that, I said, ‘she’s only a fucking slag, anyway.’

He started getting angry again so I shouted, ‘COME ON THEN. LET’S DO IT! COME ON!’ By this time I was right in ’is face, he looked like ’e was gonna crap ’imself so I shouted right in ’is face, ‘YEAH! YEAH, COME ON you fucking wank!’ Then I caught ’im smack in the face with the head [head-butt]. As ’e ’it the deck we all laid in to ’im. ’Is missus tried to stop us so one of the boys gave ’er a dig as well. Stupid fucking slapper. I said to ’er ‘keep out of the way, you bag of sick.’ Then we kicked pieces off ’im. Wanker. ’E deserved every thing ’e got.

I: Why did you choose him as a victim?

Nev: ’E was just there, and ’e fancied ’isself.

Steve: ’E was staring over at us as well, like ’e thought we were shit.

I: What do you mean?

Nev: ’E should ’ave just kept ’is big mouth shut and we wouldn’t ’ave bothered.

I: Do you pick fights with everyone that passes you in the street?

Steve: Naw, not everyone, we ’ave to be in the mood.

I: Do you mean you have to have had a drink?

Steve: No, that’s not what I said.

I: But you normally have had a drink?

Steve: Yeah, I suppose so.

I: What could he have done to avoid an incident with you?

Nev: [laughs] Lived in a different city. Naw, look, seriously, ’e should ’ave just walked away and kept ’is big mouth shut, and kept ’is eyes to ’imself.

Steve: We wus just ’aving a bit of a laugh, people take everything too seriously. If they don’t give any lip then there’s a fair chance that we won’t give them a good ’iding.

I: What would you do if someone insulted your girlfriend?

Steve & Nev: They wouldn’t fucking dare, they know what they’d get.

I: So really you’re just bullies?

Steve & Nev: [offended] No way, we’d fight anyone, we don’t bully. Look, if you live in Wood End then that’s just the way it is, if someone shouts at you or calls your missus you don’t say nothing back unless you’re prepared to back it up. ’E wasn’t, so ’e got some. End of essay! That’s the crack. It goes with the territory. If ’e didn’t want grief ’e should ’ave swallowed [backed down] and backed off.

I: Tell me about another incident, Steve.

Nev: Tell ’im about the bloke you put in ’ospital. The one that kept staring at you.

Steve: Oh yeah. The dick. I was minding me own business in the bar and this big guy looked at me, I was in a bad mood anyway cus the dole ’ad stopped me money. I looked straight back at ’im and said ‘wot you fucking looking at, you bag of puke?’ ’E said ’e wasn’t looking at me, but ’e said it dead aggressive like so I walked over to ’im and asked ’im again what ’e was staring at. ’E swore at me and said ’e wasn’t staring, ’e just thought ’e knew me from somewhere. I said if ’e wanted to go [fight] ’e should step outside, when ’e went to stand up I shoved my glass in ’is face. ’E was out like a light.

Nev: [obviously impressed] ’E was in ’ospital for ages.

Steve: ’Is own fault, shouldn’t ’ave fucked.

I: I heard that you stabbed a guy in the same pub, Steve.

Steve: Oh yeah. D’you ’ear about that, then? That was the barman. He grassed on me to the law about the glassing so ’e ’ad to ’ave some as well. I ’eard ’e was a bit of a Karate man so I didn’t take any chances. I walked in to the bar first thing in the morning, while it was quiet, less witnesses see. When ’e seen me ’e said I was barred, I said ‘Look man, I don’t want any grief with you, I know you can motor [fight], I just want to tell you that there is no hard feelings on my part, let’s shake on it.’ Fucking wanker fell for it. As he grabbed my right hand to shake it I pulled ’im ’ard in to me and stabbed ’im right in the kidneys. ’E went down like a sack of shit. I booted ’im a few times and walked out.

I: Why do you think he fell for it?

Steve: Didn’t know the crack, did ’e. Most of these trained fighters are the same. They’re all bag punchers.

[both laugh]

I: If you are such a good fighter why didn’t you have a fair fight with him?

Steve: It was a fair fight. Where we come from that was fair an’ square. Just because we don’t follow Queensbury don’t mean that what we do ain’t fair. You know wot I’m sayin’. The only person at fault was the dick I stabbed, he should ’ave know the rules. I mean, what the fuck’s ’e doin’ in Wood End and not knowin’ the crack. Maybe now he’ll learn.

I: How did you conceal the knife?

Steve: I tucked it in the palm of my hand and held it against my leg like this [he demonstrates]. ’E was so pleased that I said I didn’t want to fight that ’e wasn’t looking for a tool anyway. They all fall for it.

I: You’ve done this before then?

Steve: Yeah. Loads of times. Not always with a knife, sometimes with a glass or a bottle. They all think it’s Queensbury. Fuck Queensbury, ’e’s been dead about a hundred years. I don’t follow rules, I just do what works.

[both laugh again]

I: What would you do against someone like yourself?

Steve & Nev: [laughing] Run.

Steve: The main thing is, I wouldn’t let them get close to me, no one gets close to me. And don’t believe anything they say, ’specially if they say they don’t want to fight. If they say they don’t want it [trouble] and back away, that’s all right, but if they say they don’t want it and try to get closer then you’ve got problems. ’Specially the ones who try’n touch you, you know, put their arm around you all pally, pally like. They’re the worst ones. Oh and never shake ’ands with any of them. It’s the oldest trick in the book but it suckers ’em all. Ben does that [speaking to Nev], shakes their hands and butts them straight in the face. Don’t trust anyone.

I: Thanks for your time.

THE VICTIMS

‘Noel didn’t notice the group of lads stalking his exit from the nightclub, didn’t notice that they were watching his every move like a hawk. He had left the nightclub to see if his mate Cam had come back for him [he’d promised to give him a lift home], he was still wearing the black and whites from his earlier stint on the door at the Dog, as far as the barracking lads across the road were concerned he was a B’s [the nightclub he’d just left] bouncer. Noel, still busy looking for Cam’s car, didn’t notice the lads as they crossed over and stood around him. Noel was oblivious to the fact that they had just had an argument with the B’s doormen and they thought he was one of them. “You carrying, you got a knife?” the leader asked. Noel didn’t notice that the youth proffering the question was concealing one arm behind his right leg. “No,” Noel replied evenly. “I don’t need one … ”

‘“THUD!” Midway through his answer the youth stabbed Noel through the heart, as he fell to the floor, dying, they frenziedly kicked him. Noel died in the ambulance, en route to hospital.’ – From the book Bouncer

The following interview, though not so serious as the one above, equally demonstrates the dialogue and ritual that often occurs before attack. More than that, it is demonstrative of victims in code white, mentally and especially environmentally. It was conducted one month after the incident, with James McKay from Nuneaton, West Midlands, who was one of three young men attacked in August 1992 by a group of seven men in their late twenties.
 
James is six foot one tall, weighs 11 stone and attends technical college; he is also a part-time window cleaner.

Matthew is 20 years old, five foot eleven tall and heavily built.

Dominic is 19 years old, five foot eleven tall and of average build.

James is the interviewee.

I: James, would you mind telling me about the night you and your friends were attacked?

James: No, not at all. Me and my friends went out to the local pub on the Saturday night for a bit of a drink at about 9.00 p.m. We met some girls at the pub and were getting on really well with them.

We were having a good night. We left the girls, and the pub, at about 10.45 p.m. to go for the last drink at another pub, further up the road. On the way to the pub we had to walk down a country lane and over a small bridge with steep grass banks either side of us. Seven men, well about seven, aged between twenty-two and thirty, ran up either side of the bank toward us.

I: Where had they come from?

James: We were told after that they followed us from the pub, and they reckoned we were talking to their girlfriends.

I: How come you never noticed them?

James: Well, you don’t expect it, do you? We were just talking and having a laugh. I suppose we should have noticed, but, well … you don’t expect it do you?

I: How long did it take them to get up the banks and reach you?

James: About five, ten seconds. It was pitch black and we didn’t know what was going on.

I: At this stage did you feel scared?

James: No, not really, we just thought that they were running up to the path. Then one of them punched me in the ribs – that’s when I got scared. Looking back, it was obvious what they were going to do, we just didn’t think.

I: Did you ‘freeze’?

James: Yes, I think so. I got punched in the eye, it wasn’t a hard punch, it just shocked me.

I: Did your attacker say anything to you before he attacked.

James: Yeah. Something like ‘What you fucking looking at?’ I said that I wasn’t looking at anything. He said ‘do ya wanna fight?’ Before I could answer he punched me.

I: What happened then?

James: I was punched a few times, then thrown down one of the banks. I got up and ran home.

I: Why did you run home?

James: I just felt really scared, I didn’t want to be there.

I: What happened to your mates?

James: When I got home I rang Dominic and Matthew to see how they were. They both had black eyes and bruised faces. They were more worried about me than themselves, because I was the youngest.

I: How did they feel mentally?

James: They felt alright, just pissed off that they were attacked for nothing.

I: How did you feel?

James: Basically OK I felt a bit of a coward for running. I felt like I’d let my mates, and myself down, and I felt like I’d let my parents down too.

I: Why?

James: Because my dad has always taught me that I should always stick up for myself.

I: And you feel as though you didn’t do enough?

James: Yes.

I: In retrospect, what could you have done to avoid the attack?

James: We could have taken a different route to the pub, where we were attacked was really secluded. If we’d have gone a different way it would never have happened.

I: What about the fight itself? What would you have done differently?

James: Well, I didn’t really expect the bloke to hit me, I was just going to answer his question when he punched me, he didn’t really give me a chance. Looking back, when the blokes ran up the banks we had plenty of chance to run, or even if we didn’t run I could have punched one of them in the face. I used to box so I can hit quite hard. I should have hit him before he hit me.

I: What about the fear? How would you overcome the feeling that made you ‘freeze’?

James: Last time I wasn’t calm, next time I’d try to stay calm and try to hit one of them before I got hit.

I: How did your parents and friends react to you being attacked?

James: My parents were really worried, but I told them I was alright. My dad said I was lucky, I could have been badly hurt or killed.

I: Did your dad say that you should have fought back?

James: No, no, he understood. He was just glad that I was alright.

I: What about your friends?

James: Some of them called me a puff and a coward because I didn’t fight back, but they weren’t there, it’s not as easy as you think.

I: What are your thoughts on those who called you names?

James: I don’t think they’d do any better, in fact when I asked some of them to come and help me get the blokes the next week, they all made excuses why they couldn’t make it.

I: They bottled out?

James: Yes.

I: Now it’s all behind you, how do you feel?

James: It still bugs me that I didn’t fight back. I wouldn’t have minded getting beaten up so much if I’d have had a ‘go’ back. Trouble is it didn’t happen how I expected it to. One minute he was talking to me, the next I was being hit.

I: So he suckered you?

James: Yes, I suppose he did.

I: So that still plays on your mind?

James: Yes. It bugs me

I: Do you know why you were attacked?

James: No. The only thing I can think is that they might have seen us talking to the girls in the pub and not liked it.

I: What steps have you taken to ensure that you are better prepared next time?

James: I’m going back to boxing and I’ve started weight lifting.

I: What about the mental side?

James: Boxing and weight training are building up my confidence a lot. I feel much stronger mentally.

I: Is there any advice you would like to offer people reading this interview?

James: Only that I hope they learn from my mistakes and take precautions now, before it happens, and not to be ashamed to run away if they have the chance.

Muggers

THE ATTACKERS

‘Knowing the enemy enables you to take the offensive.’ – Sun Tzu

The two interviewees wished, for obvious reasons, to remain anonymous. They both earned their living from crime, more specifically robbery with violence (mugging), accosting up to eight victims in any one night.

J and P both began their criminal careers at the age of 13. They are now 17, and at the time of this interview serving four years for robbery with violence. Both are six foot two tall with slim to medium build.

I: J., P., why do you commit these offences?

J: For money, and the buzz.

P: It’s a good laugh.

I: What time do you instigate your attacks?

J and P: At night.

I: Why not in the day?

J: Too many people about. Too easy to get caught.

I: How do you choose your victims?

J and P: Student types, men carrying umbrellas or wearing glasses, usually aged between twenty and thirty, occasionally older. We also look for people who are well dressed; smart clothes means money.

I: Why those particular types of people?

P: Because they always have money or cards, and they don’t give you any hassle.

I: What happens after you have chosen a victim?

P: We follow them, cross the road, walk past them maybe two or three times. Some of them must be thick not to notice what’s going on.

I: What is your next move?

J and P: We wait for them to walk into a side street or walk into a park, anywhere quiet. We walk up to them and ask the time, this distracts them while we pull out our knifes. When they look up we say, ‘Give us your fucking money!’ They usually look blank. Both of us shout at them, ‘Get your fucking wallet out’, and put the knives closer to their face.

I: Then what?

P: They get their money out and offer you some, but I snatch the lot.

I: What if they have no money?

J and P: We take their jewellery.

I: What if they have no jewellery, either?

J and P: We laugh and say, ‘See you later’, then run off.

I: What do you do with the money, credit cards and jewellery?

P: I spend the cash on drink, sell the cards for fifty pounds each and the jewellery, unless it’s something I like, then I keep it.

I: So you have a drink in between muggings?

P: Yeah!

I: Is there anybody that you would not mug?

P and J: Old women, kids.

I: What do mean, kids?

A: Under twelves.

I: Anybody else?

P and J: We don’t like doing drunks.

I: Why, I thought drunks would be easy targets?

P and J: They are, but a lot of them don’t take you seriously, they could fall on the knife or something and that could mean a twenty-five stretch [twenty-five years in prison].

I: What would cause you to stop an attack once you’ve started.

P: If they scream or if they fuck about.

I: What do you mean, ‘fuck about’?

J: Start giving you hassle, like pretending to look for their money, taking their time, arguing. There was this old geezer who we were just about to ‘do’, when he turned into his drive. We stopped him and told him to give us his money, but he just kept on walking to his door. We thought he was deaf, but when he got to his door he turned round and told us to ‘fuck off ’. That really blew me, man.

I: Does the size of the victim matter?

P and J: No.

I: What would put you off?

P: Build, someone who’s stocky or if they look mean, the sound of their voice. If they look wary we don’t bother either.

I: What do you mean, wary?

P: You know, if they look like they know what we’re gonna do.

I: What do you mean when you say ‘the sound of their voice’?

P and J: When you ask them the time, if they sound tough.

I: Explain that more.

P: Well, if, when you get close to them they look a bit tough, when you ask them the time if they answer with a rough voice, then we just walk off.

I: How do you feel when you are looking for a victim?

P and J: Nervous, high, on a buzz.

I: How do you feel when your mugging someone?

P: Calm.

J: I’m just laughing to myself.

P: I’m in control, I’m looking around to make sure no one’s coming and thinking of getting away.

I: How do you feel after?

P: A great buzz, the more daring it is the more buzz I get. I get round the corner and collapse with laughter. My hands are shaking and my knees are weak, I have to sit down. Then we go and buy some drink.

I: How many people do you mug in one night?

P and J: We have done eight, but most times about six. If we get a lot of money the first or second time we get too drunk to do any more.

I: How much cash do you get in one night?

P: The most is about eighty pounds, but usually less.

I: Can you give me a typical example of one of your attacks?

P: There was this geezer and his missus, outside a telephone box. Their car had the bonnet up, the woman went into the phone box. We walked up to the phone box and pretended to queue for the phone. The geezer looked like he had money, good clothes, smart car. I gave J. the signal by winking at him, I then asked the geezer the time and we both pulled out our knives. When he looked up we told him to hand over his wallet. He said, ‘Do you know who I am?’ I said, ‘I don’t care who you are.’ He said, ‘Do you know who she’s on the phone to?’, indicating to his wife in the phone box. ‘The police.’ This was taking too long I thought to myself. I said, ‘I’m going to give you to the count of three, or else’, and pushed the knife closer to his throat. He handed over his wallet and we ran off. All the time this was happening the woman on the phone didn’t realise what was going on.

I: What would you have done if he hadn’t have handed over his wallet?

J and P: Run.

I: Have you any mates that do the same sort of thing as you?

P: Most of our mates are into mugging and crime.

I: Do they all operate the same system?

J and P: Sort of.

I: What do you mean?

J and P: Well, we all learn off each other, some use bats, iron bars or pretend guns, others use knives like us.

I: Do all of your mates run off if they come up against problems or complications?

P: Yeah. You can’t afford to be caught mugging. Look what happened to us: four years each.

THE VICTIMS

Mary is a middle class, middle-aged woman. She was mugged in broad daylight outside a popular, busy shopping store in London. Her interview is very demonstrative of the four ‘D’s and of being mentally in code white even though she was environmentally sound. It also demonstrates a dire lack of ritual awareness. Even after the fact, Mary was still unaware of the fact that she was primed by being selected, stalked and approached before attack.

I: Mary, would you please tell us about your incident.

Mary: Yes, surely. I had just finished my usual weekly shopping at H____ [store]. The doorman opened the door for me and I walked outside to call a cab. Two men asked me for the time. I was laden with shopping so I put the bags on the floor to look at my watch. Suddenly I felt an awful wrench on my arm, the next thing I knew these two men had run off with my shopping and my watch.

I: Do you know why they attacked you?

Mary: Well, I can only think that it was because of my watch, having seen that it was expensive, they decided that they would steal it, and then my shopping. I was silly putting it down on the floor.

I: Don’t you think that they may have asked you the time to distract you for long enough to be able to steal your belongings?

Mary: Yes, well … I never really thought of it like that. It does sound a little more logical.

I: Did you see them approach you?

Mary: No, I was too busy trying to hail a cab. I’m not even sure if they approached me or if they were simply walking past at the same time as I left the store. Actually, no, let me think. That’s right, the doorman told the police that he had seen the two men hanging around, opposite the store, for several minutes before the attack.

I: Did they both speak to you?

Mary: One did. He said, ‘Excuse me, could you tell me the time?’ He seemed perfectly reasonable. The other fellow wasn’t even looking at me, he was looking the other way. I looked at my watch and … that was it.

I: Were you not suspicious at all?

Mary: Not in the slightest, I was far too preoccupied with hailing a cab. When I was asked the time I didn’t even bother to look at them. I automatically looked at my watch.

I: What have you learned from your ordeal?

Mary: Until now I had learned very little, only to be very wary of giving people the time. In respect to what you have just told me I shall be a lot more wary of everything I do.

I: Thank you for your time, Mary.

Rapists and Murderers

THE ATTACKERS

The following are extracts from interviews and excerpts from newspapers. All are included here to demonstrate attacker ritual and reality.

‘A sex attacker who struck in a Southampton park earlier this week may be a dangerous ‘stalker’ with a vendetta against students.

‘His victim fears he has struck before but other women have been too scared to come forward. ‘The 25 year old woman, currently studying law at Southampton institute, told this newspaper how the would-be rapist spluttered obscenities about students as he grappled with her in a local park.

‘“I have never been so scared,” she said, “he really raged about hating students and became very violent. The intensity of his anger made me feel he would really harm me. It was more frightening that anything.” ‘The mature student, who did not want to be named, described how the smartly dressed man had tried to engage her in conversation before the attack.

‘“He said hello so familiarly that I felt that I must know him,” she said. “But then he started chatting me up, asking me what I was doing that night, so I just ignored him.” At that point the man’s behaviour changed. He indecently exposed himself and began grappling with her clothing before trying to push her to the ground.

‘Police believe two office workers walking towards the scene just after 5.30pm on Wednesday may have unwittingly forced the attacker to flee.’ – The Daily Echo, November 5th 1994

The following is taken from a letter to Christopher Berry-Dee from serial killer Arthur Shawcross, serving 250 years.

‘My name is Arthur John Shawcross.

I am labelled a serial killer, if so – so be it. I have been asked, did I kill? To this question I will say [yes], too many times for any one person to do so! I have been a god unto myself, I’ve been the judge, the jury and the executioner. I, dear people, have murdered, butchered and totally destroyed 53 human beings in my lifetime. I am like a predator, able to hunt, able to wantonly destroy at any given time or moment.

Some of you think that I am a joke, let me assure you that I am not!!

Do you have a choice of when and where you will die?! Stay away from drunk drivers, planes, terrorist, robbers or people somewhat like me!

Can’t be done can it?!’

In another letter to my associate, convicted killer Michael Sams talks about his killing of Julie Dart. The letter is self-explanatory.

‘It is well documented from the trial that I had intended my first attempt [abduction] to be at Lincoln, my second at Crewe. Had either of these two gone ahead then the captive would not have been allowed to go home. When the 3rd July 1991 at Crewe failed, I have no explanation as why I thought the police would pay a ransom for an unknown, everyday person, but I knew in my mind that they would. And I subsequently found out that they would have done. The actual true events from July 9 to October 1991 are now given.

‘I set off from our house at about 7pm, 9 July, Teena thought I was going to Peterborough to decorate her house. I called at an off licence to buy a tin of lager to relax me. I stopped en route to put a false number plate and then went to the ‘mucky duck’ down the calls in Leeds. There seemed no way that I would pick up a girl without being seen. I had known that Chapeltown was the red light area so I went to have a look. After a bit of searching I found the corner where the health centre was at about 11.15pm. There were three girls on the corner so I parked a little way up the road. Two were coloured girls and one a tall white girl. Shortly after I parked where I could see the three girls, a white, largish, car stopped across the road from the girls. The tall white girl ran across the road to the driver’s side, spoke to the driver and then gave him something from her back jeans pocket. At about 11.30 the coloured girls left – so I then went and parked opposite her. She called out “do you want business”, I answered yes. She ran across the road passing in front of my car and came to the passenger door and opened it. She told me it was £15 behind the health centre, which I declined, or £20 in the car. I paid her twenty pounds and she got in and directed me to the Thomas Danby car park. She told me her name was June and she was 24.

‘When we got to the car park she bent down to take her shoes off. I leant over and grabbed the back of her neck and pressed down. In this doubled up position she couldn’t scream. I told her that I would let her up if she didn’t scream and kept her eyes closed. I wanted to talk to her, she agreed, and so I let her sit back. I then slipped a rope I had ready, over her head and secured it around her stomach similar to a seat belt, but one she couldn’t undo. When I had done that I said she could open her eyes, which she did, and saw that she was tied and I had a knife. Her hands were tied by her side with the rope so I asked her to pull them out and I tied them together in front of her. I said “right, we’re going on a journey.” She saw that I had a knife across my knees and so presumed I would use it if she screamed or anything. We went down through the centre of Leeds past the station and on to the M1. At no time when stopping at traffic lights etc., did she try to attract the attention of any other motorists, she just kept talking to me. It was about 2 a.m. when we reached Newark on the A1, I had put a jumper over her face. I said I didn’t want her to see what town she was in. She never objected to the jumper over her head. I took her into the workshop with it still over her head, guiding her. Then I tied her to the chair whilst I put the car away.

‘When I came back I untied her from the chair and told her to sit on the mattress, she still had her hands tied, and her leg then was also tied by a rope to a bracket, over her jeans. When she saw where she was she said she was not happy about removing her clothes in that cold building. I then told her that she hadn’t been kidnapped for photos, but to hold until the police paid a ransom for her release. She actually laughed at this idea. She didn’t think that they would pay, and that I had kidnapped the wrong person, her mother had no money.

‘She told me that her name was Julie and not June but maintained her age was 24.

‘The fact that I was going to kill her in a few hours, in no way showed through to her.

‘She asked to be allowed to wash. I untied her hands but not her leg. When she had finished I said I was tying her hands behind her back, so she laid on her tummy and put her hands behind her back. She never had them tied because I hit her with a hammer, I had with me, behind the head to render her unconscious. Then I put a cord round her neck and tightened it.’

THE VICTIMS

Extract from Ladykiller by Christopher Berry-Dee and Robin Odell:

‘Jean Bradford was 37 years old and married, with a seventeen month old son. She ran a ladies’ knitwear shop in Sutton Coldfield. On Friday 6th March 1981, she opened the shop as usual at 9.30 a.m. and served a trickle of customers during the morning. At 12.30 she closed the shop and turned the closed sign round on the door. Her husband collected her and her son and went off to lunch. They returned at about 2.00 p.m. and Mr Bradford left his wife and toddler in the shop.

‘At about 2.15 p.m. the women from the shop next door called in for a few minutes’ chat and when she departed Jean Bradford was left alone with her son. Half an hour later, about 2.45 p.m., a man entered the shop. He was holding a handkerchief over his face as if to blow his nose. Just at that moment the telephone in the back office rang and Mrs Bradford made her apologies before going to answer it. She came out of the office to make sure that the customer had not left the door open, as she was afraid her young son might wander out in to the street.

Having satisfied herself on this point, she offered further apologies and returned to the phone. The man mumbled something in reply but kept the hand-kerchief up to his nose and mouth.

‘With her son by her side Jean Bradford had to hold the line whilst her caller was connected. She put her head round the door of the office and said, “I’m sorry to be long. Can I help you?” The man gave a nervous sort of laugh and walked in to the office. He was holding a knife that he was pointing at her saying that he would cut her unless she kept quiet. Then he threatened to cut the baby and, putting his finger on the telephone rest, disconnected the incoming call. Mrs Bradford picked up her son and held him to her protectively. The man instructed her to go in to the corner of the office and face the wall. Still holding her son and with the intruder’s knife at her ribs, she did as she was told. His commands were emphasised with the repeated use of the expletive “fucking”. He asked her where the cash was kept. She turned around to show him but he made her face the wall again. She explained that the cash box was behind the curtain which screened the office from the ship. Mrs Bradford’s son, sensing her fear, began to scream. “Stop your little girl,” the man told her. She explained that it was a little boy and that the child was frightened and asked if she could give him a drink which was on a table in the shop. The man stood close to her, touching the knife to her face and telling her, ‘not to fucking move’. He went in to the shop and returned with the child’s bottle which he thrust in to Jean Bradford’s free hand. After having a drink, the child calmed down.

‘The intruder located the cash box and spilled its contents onto the floor where he sorted through the change. He then asked where more money could be found, and she told him there was some in a purse on the shop table. Mrs Bradford found difficulty in articulating her words, all the while being threatened with a knife.

‘Suddenly the front door of the premises opened and in walked Mrs Bradford’s mother who was her business partner. “Tell them that you are closed,” the man instructed, Jean followed his instructions but her mother only laughed and made straight for the office. ‘Who’s this?’ the man asked. “It’s my mother,” Jean replied. The two women stood close together whilst the intruder asked again about money.
‘“Let my daughter go with the baby,” requested the older woman. “No,” came the reply, accompanied by the threat that he would cut her if she did not keep quiet.

‘She persisted in her request and Jean could see that the man was becoming increasingly nervous. She told her mother to shut up and do as she was told.

‘He then turned his attentions to Jean and began fiddling with her dress. She asked him what he was doing and he said, “the best way to tie your legs is to get your tights by your feet”. So saying, he pulled her tights down by her ankles and lifting up her skirt said “beautiful”. He had already told her to put down the child and now instructed her to lower her knickers. She refused but changed her mind when he said, “Well you don’t want the baby cut”. He then moved behind her and put his left arm around her neck while holding the knife to her face. He whispered that if she didn’t want to fucking well get hurt she was to undo his trousers and give him oral sex. “Please don’t,” she begged but he became more threatening and ordered her to kneel down in front of him. He undid his trousers and told her to take out his penis.
‘When she resisted he pointed the knife towards the child and repeated; “You don’t want the baby to get hurt.” She complied with his instructions as minimally as possible; “I did as little as I had to,” she later told the police in her statement.

‘Before fleeing the intruder also raped Mrs Bradford, a crime for which John Cannon was later convicted and received an eight year prison sentence.’

I leave the reader to draw the obvious conclusions.