Over the weekend after they had been charged, the identities of Bobby and Jon became an open secret in Walton. One man, the father of a boy who usually sat next to Bobby in class, heard the names while he was out in the village and went home to tell his son. The boy said that Bobby and Jon used to ask him to sag off. They used to say, do you want to be in our gang, we’re going to kill someone. The boy went quiet for a while and then said, I’m not sitting next to him on Monday.
On Monday, and throughout that week, the school was besieged by the press and unsettled by its new notoriety. Another classmate sat in Bobby’s chair and bounced up and down, singing, I’m in the murderer’s seat, I’m in the murderer’s seat. Reporters stood at the school gates hoping to interview the children, and barraged the head teacher with phone calls. Some pretended to be parents who had lost a copy of their child’s school photograph and wanted to acquire a replacement.
The photograph which included Bobby and Jon was hanging from a wall in one of the school corridors. The mother of a pupil took the tabloid shilling to try and steal it. When she discovered that the picture was fixed to the wall, the news paper supplied her with a small camera, and the mother practised with it, timing herself to remove the camera from the pocket of her anorak, hold it to her eye, snap the picture and return the camera to her pocket. When she had got the timing down to about 12 seconds, the mother went round to the school to meet her boy, and he led her to the corridor where the school photo graph was hanging. She had her hand in her pocket, poised, but the school was one step ahead. The photograph had already been removed.
Bobby and Jon remained in custody at their respective police stations until Monday morning, when they were driven to Bootle, to appear at South Sefton Magistrates Court. The two boys fidgeted their way through the remand hearing, which lasted for two minutes, and then left the court and Liverpool. They would be taken to separate secure units, where they would spend the next year of childhood.
The route from the court was lined by a thicket of television crews and a small crowd of local people, some of whom ran forward offering physical and verbal abuse. There were six arrests in the mêlée, but the tightly framed images of hatred on the television news seemed to exaggerate the scale of the incident.
The boys’ parents, Ann Thompson and Neil and Susan Venables, never returned to their homes. Removal teams went in to take their possessions into storage, and the families were rehoused by social services. There was much secrecy and paranoia: fear of being found by the media, the greater fear of some faceless mob, or a vengeful maniac with a petrol bomb.
Ann spent several weeks with Ryan and Ben in a flat attached to a residential home for the elderly, before being moved into a small house on a large estate, not far from Bobby’s secure unit. She kept Ryan with her at home, unwilling to let him go to school because he might accidentally disclose their secret.
Neil and Susan Venables were reunited in their efforts to deal with what had happened, and moved together to a house in a quiet street near Jon’s secure unit. Susan sent a thank-you note to the police at Lower Lane, a Hallmark card with a front picture of flowers and the printed words,
A message can’t really convey
The gratitude that’s sent your way …
But may these words somehow express
Warm thanks for all your thoughtfulness.
Alongside the message, Susan wrote, ‘We would like to thank all the staff at Lower Lane Station for the kind thoughts and respect we received from you. Without your help I know we would not have coped, we will never forget you. God bless you all. Thanks so very much once again, Sue Neil Jon.’
On the first Saturday in March the boys were collected from their units by police officers from Merseyside and taken to an identification suite at Longsight Police Station in Manchester, to stand on identification parades. Bobby went first, in a line with eight other boys, and was pointed out by two women who had seen him in the Strand, an assistant from Animate, the pet shop on County Road, and the two boys who had been playing with handcuffs on Church Road West.
Jon waited in the detention room with his father and a couple of police officers. He asked his dad if Pauline was going to be there. ‘Pauline saw us, I think.’ His dad didn’t know. ‘Pauline, a friend of my mum’s,’ Jon explained to the officers. He asked one of them if they had seen Crimewatch. They asked what about. ‘The James Bulger thing.’ Yes. ‘What did it say?’ Then Jon wanted to know if the woman with the black dog was there for the parade.
When he was taken out to begin the parade, Jon began crying and became very distressed. He was taken back to the detention room, but could not stop crying. He wanted the door opened, to let in some fresh air. Why do I have to do it, he said to his dad, I’ve told them it was me. His parade was abandoned.
On the way back to his unit, travelling in an unmarked car, Jon asked why they couldn’t have a police car. I know, he said, ’cos people might look and say there’s that murder boy. Then he said, ‘Me and Robert might get set free ’cos only two identified Robert and that was out of twenty.’
They tried again the following Saturday, and again Jon became upset and worried, waiting at Longsight for the parade to begin. An officer walked him round the station, trying to calm him down, but it was no good. Jon could not go through with the parade. The police decided instead to conduct the identification parade by video. They would film Jon, and eight other boys, and show the sequence to witnesses. Jon was told he would have to be recorded, walking up and down the corridor. ‘Is that because they saw me walking in the Strand?’
The video recordings were made that day, and shown to witnesses a week later. Jon did not have to attend this time, but his solicitor was there to monitor fair play. Jon was picked out by one of the two women who had also recognised Bobby at the Strand, by the owner of the DIY shop on County Road, and by the man who had seen two boys tapping on the window of TJ Hughes in late January, apparently trying to attract the attention of a child.
Towards the end of March case conferences were convened at the Merseyside offices of the NSPCC – the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. Bobby was discussed at nine thirty in the morning and Jon at eleven o’clock. No members of the boys’ families were present, but the head teacher of the school was there, along with numerous social services’ representatives, an education welfare officer, and a detective from the Merseyside Police child protection unit.
The conferences were intended to examine the boys’ backgrounds and look for any possible connection between abuse they might have suffered and the offences with which they had been charged. Bobby’s conference was told of the violence and neglect in his mother’s childhood, and his father’s strict upbringing in a fatherless household. All the known indications of physical abuse in Bobby’s family were considered. The police questioning of Philip over the allegation of inciting a gross indecency was mentioned.
There was no direct evidence that Bobby had been abused by his mother or his elder brothers, and he had seemed happy enough three months ago when seen at a local social services’ Christmas party. A social worker said that the recent period, before the killing of James Bulger, had been more stabilising for Ann and her family. She had been gaining insight into the needs of herself and her children, acknowledging difficulties and showing the motivation to address them; and she had begun to involve herself in areas such as schooling, in which previously she had felt uncomfortable and intimidated. Despite the absence of social work involvement in the months preceding the autumn of 1992, because of staff sickness, Ann had since been receiving support in coming to terms with her own childhood, her husband’s departure, parenting skills, budgeting, together with the day-to-day dysfunctional aspects of a family.
The conference concluded that, despite features of neglect and emotional abuse, the physical abuse of Bobby could not be substantiated and no link could be established between his background and the alleged offences. He would not be placed on the Child Protection Register.
Jon’s conference heard that both his parents had been involved in raising the children, despite their divorce, and was told of the feeling that Jon’s behaviour was affected by his jealousy of the attention given to his elder brother, Mark. There had been no child protection concerns involving either Jon or his siblings, and there was no indication that Jon had been abused. There was one reference, in Mark’s medical history, to his being violent towards Jon, and there was the suspicion that physical chastisement was used on Jon as a form of punishment for his misbehaviour, though there was no evidence that this went beyond what could be called reasonable.
If there was any vulnerability to physical abuse, this could have been in the evenings, when Susan Venables had difficulty settling the children down, and stress might have led to abuse, though, again, there was no evidence of this. It was felt that Jon’s parents had struggled to maintain a consistent method of parental control, trying different means in response to his difficult behaviour, and sometimes allowing him to get away with things that would otherwise have been punished, while the attention was focused on Mark.
There was concern that Neil Venables had allowed Susan to take the major role in disciplining and caring for the children. Jon had lived with his father, but Neil had found it hard to cope and sent Jon back to his mother. The head teacher was asked if Jon had ever behaved in a sexually inappropriate manner in school, but said there was no suggestion of this, or any indication of physical abuse.
Despite the concerns, and in the absence of any firm evidence, the conference decided it would not place Jon on the Child Protection Register.
Though it was not articulated at the case conferences, there was some worry over the conflict of interest between the judicial process in which the boys were now involved, and their needs as disturbed or damaged children. Any programme of psychotherapy or counselling could not begin in advance of the trial, because it might produce information which could prejudice or influence the case. The delay would only make the task of helping the boys that much harder. Like many defendants, young or old, in cases of serious crime, they would suppress and deny what had actually happened. The longer this went on, the deeper the truth would be buried, and the more difficult it would be to make progress with rehabilitation, which would involve acknowledging what had really taken place, and coming to an understanding of why it had happened.
Bobby had sat through seven hours and six minutes of taped police interviews without making any admission of his participation in the abduction and killing of James Bulger. He had said nothing since to suggest otherwise, and, irrespective of the truth, his lawyers had no option but to act on their client’s instructions. He was saying he was not guilty, and this position could not be tested, by anyone around him, until the evidence was put before a jury at the trial. Bobby would not be unique if, despite his guilt, he convinced himself of his own innocence.
While Jon had made admissions to the police, and had said, ‘I did kill him,’ he was now blaming Bobby for the offences, as were his parents, who would say that Jon had been led on by Bobby. Jon could not bring himself to talk about events on the railway line. It was an understandable way of trying to manage the unmanageable, but it was also a form of denial.
When he had arrived at his secure unit, Jon had been given a cover story, ostensibly to protect his interests with the other residents. He was told to say he was twelve, not ten, and that he had been caught ‘twoccing’, which was car-stealing: taking without the owner’s consent. It was a further encouragement to deny, and a reminder, as if any was needed, that the actual offences with which he was charged were too awful to be confronted.
Jon’s solicitor, Lawrence Lee, visiting his client for the first time, told Jon, it’s all right, son, we’re going to tell the judge you were mad when you did it. This attempt to speak in the language of children reflected the belief that Jon might be able to run a defence of diminished responsibility, in which psychiatric evidence could play a crucial role.
The Crown – in the guise of the Merseyside Crown Prosecution Service – was also interested in expert evidence. In making its case against the boys it needed to counter the presumption in law that, at the age of ten, the boys did not know that what they were doing was seriously wrong. It also needed to counter any suggestion that the boys were unfit to stand trial, or that they were ‘mad’: suffering from diminished responsibility.
John Brighouse, the CPS’s special casework lawyer, contacted the defence and requested that their clients be seen by Dr Susan Bailey, a consultant adolescent forensic psychiatrist from Prestwich Hospital in Manchester. Bobby’s lawyers refused and Jon’s agreed. Dr Bailey first saw Jon’s parents in May and went on to interview them over two sessions. She conducted seven clinical interviews with Jon over the next four months.
On 14 May, the boys stood side by side in the dock at Liverpool Crown Court, formally entering ‘not guilty’ pleas to the charges and hearing that the trial was fixed for 1 November, at Preston Crown Court. Jon was hyperventilating for most of the brief hearing, and a social worker clutched at his leg for support. The public gallery was empty except for Sean Sexton, the local solicitor representing the Bulger family. Neil was the only parent in court, sitting surrounded by bulky plain-clothed policemen.
There had been some debate about a possible venue for the trial, which could not be held in Liverpool because ‘feelings were running high’ and because of the difficulty of finding a jury that had not already made up its mind about the boys’ guilt. It had been suggested that the trial might be held at the Old Bailey in London, but the Honourable Mr Justice Morland, who was the presiding judge of the Northern Circuit, decided he would hear the case in Preston, which was a more practical alternative to Liverpool, and would enable the boys to return to their units every evening.
In her twelve-page psychiatric report on Jon Venables, which was delivered shortly before the start of the trial, Dr Bailey recorded Neil and Susan’s view of their family background and Jon’s childhood development. She said that there was no history of epilepsy, alcohol abuse or mental health problems. Susan told Dr Bailey of the stress and anxiety of caring for Mark when he was an infant, and how this had contributed to the separation from Neil. They had told Jon that they could not get on together but were still friends. Neil continued to see all the children.
Jon had been overactive at school and at home he would run around and play in the garden, but he was not aggressive. He had been bullied at school by boys who lived nearby and who bullied Jon and his brother Mark at home. Jon showed no anger or antagonism towards Mark, and never expressed any unhappiness about the time and attention Mark had required because of his learning difficulties. Jon was protective towards Mark and Michelle and understanding of their special needs.
Susan had been very worried about the bullying and had told Jon to stand up for himself, but he worried about his eye and his squint. She had complained to the school, and was told Jon was throwing things in class. He was suspended for two days because he had been throwing things and lying on the floor, refusing to get up.
Eventually, Susan decided to keep Jon out of school until they got rid of the bullies, so that Jon would no longer be a victim. It was then that he changed schools. Jon had been brilliant at first, in his new school, with the discipline and structure provided by a male teacher. In his current year, with a female teacher, he had begun associating with Robert and truanting. Jon had felt sorry for Robert because he had no friends at school. The police and other local families had warned them to keep Jon away from Robert, who was trouble and renowned for thieving. Jon had been bullied by Robert.
The only stealing Jon had done was taking cigarettes from his mother’s handbag, and that only because lads in the street had threatened him.
Jon bit his nails and shared with his mother a fear of bees and wasps. He slept with the light on and used to have a distressing recurring dream in which the spotlight from his eye operation was focused on him. Since being charged and held in secure accommodation, Jon had been observed to line his toys along the side of the bed, to keep things away at night. He had told his mother of flashbacks, particularly an image of blood coming out of James Bulger’s mouth. The memories would not go away when he tried to push them to the back of his mind.
He had been having bad dreams and good dreams, but could not remember the bad dreams. In a recurring good dream he rescued the victim by snatching James and returning him to his mother. This was worse than the bad dreams because he couldn’t make it real.
In his interviews with Dr Bailey, Jon was able to settle, sit still and concentrate. If the subject became uncomfortable he would fidget or hide under his sweater. About the offences he would only say that Robert had suggested they sag off and go to the Strand. He was unable to talk further about what happened, and became tearful and inconsolable when the subject was raised. He told Dr Bailey to ask his mum and dad. He said the only people he could talk to about it were the police. Dr Bailey noted that, at times, especially when speaking of Robert, Jon would use the same phrases his mother had employed.
He showed no evidence of any hallucinatory or other unusual experiences, and there was no indication of obsessive or compulsive phenomena. He had not presented with any clinical evidence of a depressive illness, though he had appropriate anxieties about the forthcoming trial. It was unfortunate, Dr Bailey observed, that Jon had been advised to disguise his age and offences at the secure unit. This had hindered him in coming to terms with his situation.
Jon’s three magic wishes were to be out of his secure unit; to turn the world into a chocolate factory; to live forever, with enough money, and to have no accidents or illnesses. His choice of a partner on a desert island would be his mum, if he could take only one person, but, otherwise, mum, teddy, dad, brother, sister and nan.
If he could go back in time, he would return to the offence so it didn’t happen. He could be happy if it hadn’t happened. Going forward in time, to twenty, he would like to be living with his mum and dad and have a job as a mechanic. He was fearful that he would go to prison when he was eighteen and stay there until he was 40.
Asked about his understanding of death, Jon told Dr Bailey that when pets or people die that fact can’t change, they cannot come back. Good people go to heaven where there is Jesus, Mary, God and disciples, all in white. Naughty people go to hell.
Jon liked watching cartoons such as Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck which he recognised as make-believe. He liked the soap operas, and their characters were his favourite people on television. His favourite film was Goonies, which he liked to watch every day, rewinding to see the funniest parts again. He also enjoyed Police Academy, Home Alone and The Incredible Hulk.
He told Dr Bailey he would make believe it was only acting when he saw ‘naughty things’, by which he said he meant blood or fighting. He would turn his face away and put his fingers in his ears if, in the Rocky films, someone was punched and blood came out. He watched Kung Fu films which his dad got out on video; when he saw them he thought they were real, and he would cry. If he could be anyone out of the films, Jon would be Sylvester Stallone/Rocky, because he was rich and he was nice. He’d like to be Sonic the Hedgehog from the computer games, because he ran fast and saved his friends.
Dr Bailey’s behavioural analysis of Jon’s problems was that there was no evidence of any organic factors in infancy which might have affected his development. He had been reared in a supportive family setting and, in early childhood, had been described as a happy boy who functioned normally in a playgroup setting. Between the ages of four and seven he had functioned normally within the home and within education.
When his parents separated they had taken joint responsibility for the children, with active support from Susan’s mother. Styles of parenting had differed, with Susan presenting as more direct and immediate in her responses. Jon’s behaviour and achievement in school had deteriorated but, significantly, he had responded best when set limits and boundaries. The bullying was linked to remarks about Jon’s eye defect and his brother’s special needs. Both Jon and his parents had stressed the bad influence of Robert, in the months before the offences, when Jon began to play truant and become involved in minor anti- social acts.
Jon always stressed that he had no problems in his family, and no frustration with regard to the time and attention his ‘less able’ siblings needed and received. It was apparent to Dr Bailey, from her interviews with Jon, that he wanted to please his mother, and it was very important that his parents thought well of him.
His parents had spoken to her of the cognitive and emotional difficulties they had experienced, trying to come to terms with what had happened. Neil showed more overt distress and fearfulness. Susan expressed her feelings through the pressure and depth of her speech. They had been asking for, and needed, more professional support than they had been receiving. They had remained supportive towards Jon, and non-rejecting of him. At times, however, they were understandably overwhelmed by the situation in which they found themselves.
Dr Bailey said she could not comment on the offences, but Jon continued to lay the blame on Robert. She concluded that Jon was fit to plead and stand trial, was not suffering from any mental disorder, was of average intellectual ability, had a clear understanding of right and wrong, could understand the concept and permanence of death, and could distinguish between fantasy and reality. He had remained consistent in his accounts of both neutral and emotive topics, typically denied anything negative about himself or his family, but expressed anxiety about his future.
Dr Bailey had fulfilled the role required of her by the Crown, but there was nothing in her report to support the family social worker’s view that Jon was jealous of the attention given to his brother and sister, which had made him feel neglected. There was no mention of his tantrums, or the possibility that he had copied Mark’s behaviour. Scant reference was made to the more extreme behaviour he had presented at school and the aggression he had displayed.
The report did not refer to any instability that might have resulted from Neil and Susan’s separation, the ensuing moves from one home to another, and the apparent on-off nature of the couple’s subsequent relationship. There was no suggestion of any emotional, verbal or physical conflict between Neil and Susan, before or after the separation, or the impact this might have made on Jon. No mention was made of their depression or its possible effect on Jon.
There was a brief reference to the different parenting styles of Neil and Susan, but no exploration of this, or the possible effect of inconsistent parenting on Jon. Dr Bailey had noted that Susan had smacked Jon ‘out of worry’ on the night James Bulger was killed, but there was no reference in the report to any inquiry about physical punishment of Jon.
Dr Bailey had made a concluding point about the theme of denial in her interviews with Jon, but there was no indication in the report of any disparity between the family’s view of itself and other information that was then available. Dr Bailey had concluded that Jon could distinguish between fantasy and reality, but had noted from her interviews with Jon that when he watched Kung Fu videos he thought they were real, and would cry.
In October the CPS made a second request, for Jon to be seen by a consultant psychologist, Marion Preston. She spent the day with Jon at his unit towards the end of the month, carrying out a series of recognised tests which were designed to assess Jon’s intellectual functioning and his current emotional and psychological status.
They sat together in the school room of Jon’s unit, where he normally went for one-on-one teaching. Marion Preston had been told that Jon might be distracted, but she found him engaged and responsive, only once stopping to ask his social worker, who was sitting quietly in the room, what book he was reading. Jon was affable and cooperative, making appropriate jokes, in particular about his being overweight.
The first two tests, of Jon’s intelligence, scholastic aptitude and literacy, suggested that he was of average ability, with some underachievement, probably linked to his difficulties at, and absence from, school. The third test, the Bene Anthony Family Relations Test, was designed to explore a child’s feelings towards his family and him/herself. Jon chose his mum and dad, his brother and sister, and his nan as his family. The test included a Mr Nobody, to whom the child could assign qualities that were not felt to apply to anyone in the family.
Jon allocated more items to Mr Nobody than anybody else, and they were mostly negative associations. Nobody scolded Jon, disliked him, frightened him or thought badly of him. He did not think badly of anyone in his family, or hate anyone, or feel like being violent towards anyone. He did not get fed up with anyone in his family, he did not want to annoy anyone, and no one in his family made him angry.
Marion Preston noted that Jon gave very few items to himself, particularly anything in relation to positive feelings. He indicated that his parents were over-protective, and that his mother paid too much attention to him. He attributed many positive feelings to his mother and suggested that his brother, Mark, was sometimes a bit too fussy and spoilt other people’s fun. He expressed positive feelings about his sister, Michelle, with the one negative note that he felt she was never satisfied.
Marion Preston’s report said that the test indicated a high level of denial of any negative feelings, both from Jon to his family, and from his family to Jon. The only positive item he gave to himself was that this person was nice. Mr Nobody was given anything associated with kissing or close contact, his mother given cuddling, being near to and giving hugs to Jon. There was no indication of physical contact with his father, other than that he liked his dad to tickle him. Jon’s picture of family life was that his mother was warm and giving, his father less emotionally demonstrative; there were never any arguments, disagreements or difficulties between any members of the family. Marion Preston said this was an unrealistic view of family life, with clear denial of any problems or difficulties.
The next test, the Child’s Depression Scale (Revised), was designed to examine feelings of unhappiness and sadness, inadequacy and low self-esteem, boredom and withdrawal, psychosomatic illnesses, preoccupation with death or illness and problems with aggression, irritability or temper outbursts. Jon’s test gave no clear pattern of response, and no indication of clinical depression, though there was a recognisable denial of negative feelings and of many problems, particularly in relation to his family. He was above average in preoccupation with sickness, feeling tired a lot of the time, not liking waking up in the mornings, experiencing some sleep disturbance, and feeling uninterested in doing anything at the moment. There was some acknowledgement of feelings of guilt.
The Culture Free Self-Esteem Inventory measured self-perception and self-esteem, and also included a lie scale to indicate defensiveness. Jon’s test gave him a low self-esteem, in the bottom 22 per cent of children, but because he had found it difficult to make up his mind when scoring some of the categories, Marion Preston said the results should be treated with some care. By contrast, Jon had suggested that he was happy most of the time and believed he was as contented as most boys and girls. He did not think his parents thought him a failure, they did not make him feel he was not good enough, and they did not dislike him. He felt that he did well at school, persisted at his work, liked school, and felt that teachers thought he did well. This was particularly in relation to schooling at his secure unit.
Jon’s lie score was relatively high, and Marion Preston said this was in keeping with the degree of defensiveness shown in other tests. He was continuing to deny any difficulties, notably to do with his family.
The final test was the Revised Children’s Manifest Anxiety Scale: ‘What I think and feel’. Again, Jon did not show a high level of anxiety, except in relation to what was going to happen to him. He felt people were going to tell him he did things the wrong way, and he was aware that a lot of people were against him. There was a high lie score in this test, too, consistent with faking good, and relating, the report said, to an idealised view of himself.
With the tests completed, Marion Preston tried to approach the subject of the charges with Jon. He immediately became subdued and uncommunicative, and put his head down on the table in front of him. He said he hated Robert because Robert made him do it. He said he was sorry about what had happened, but refused to discuss it further.
Staff at the unit told Marion Preston that in general Jon behaved himself and was very little trouble. With the increased attention he had been receiving – the expert assessments, the interviews – he had begun discussing his feelings with the residential care workers, but had not disclosed any details of the offences at length. He had recently regressed in some of his behaviour and had soiled himself twice, which had not been happening when he first went to the unit.
Marion Preston’s report concluded that Jon was of average intelligence with no deficits in intellectual functioning. He had presented an unrealistic view of relationships within his family, but had shown some awareness of his current difficulties. Throughout the tests he had demonstrated an understanding of right and wrong, and had known the right thing to do when confronted with a moral dilemma.
Marion Preston believed that Jon was repressing and denying many of his emotional concerns. It was not altogether surprising, she reported, but it indicated an awareness on his part of what needed to be considered, and he was consistent in this over the four hours of testing. It was likely that Jon would require treatment by an expert psychiatrist or psychologist to help him to address the very difficult circumstances surrounding his offending behaviour, regardless of the outcome of proceedings against him. The final line of the report stated that Jon Venables presented as a capable young man, who would require treatment and support for some time to come.
Jon’s lawyers also commissioned their own report from another child psychiatrist. There was no evidence here of any abnormality of mind, nothing to suggest he was unfit to stand trial, nothing that might support a defence of diminished responsibility.
It had been noted that, on many occasions before the sessions with one expert or another, Jon had been seen alone by his father for a quiet chat. Perhaps it was a natural way of offering reassurance, but it caused some concern among case workers from the various social services.
There was also persistent talk of the possibility that Jon had seen Child’s Play 3. The police had been round to the video stores used by both families, and collected lists of the films they had rented. Albert Kirby insisted that the police could make no connection between the killing and the watching of videos, but the content of Child’s Play 3 (the last film on Neil’s list) was, at the very least, a bizarre coincidence.
Eventually, Jon was asked directly if he had seen the film. His sheepish denial – I don’t like horror films – left many who saw and heard it with the impression that he had watched Child’s Play 3.
Bobby had once seen two minutes of Child’s Play 2, walking into the room when some of his elder brothers were watching the video. Ann had come in and ushered Bobby away. Ann really didn’t like horror films.
Bobby’s lawyers maintained their client’s position. There was no need for any expert evidence because Bobby hadn’t committed the offences. Unlike Jon, however, Bobby was able to talk about what had happened. His solicitor, Dominic Lloyd, sat with him in his room at his unit over several sessions, going through the evidence that had been presented by the Crown and eliciting from Bobby his own version of the killings.
Bobby told his solicitor of a sequence of events that matched the account he had given in his interviews with the police. The assault began with Jon throwing paint at James’s eye, and ended with Jon throwing the fishplate, the big metal thingy, as Bobby called it.
Bobby watched Jon remove James’s underpants and lay them carefully over James’s face. Bobby did not know why he had done this, but assumed it was because the blood coming out of his mouth looked horrible. Bobby did not like looking at the blood. You could still see it pumping out underneath the underpants every couple of seconds, so Bobby started putting bricks round the head so that bricks could be put over the face. He only tried to cover James’s face so that he would not have to look at the blood any more.
Bobby was certain he had not kicked James in the head.
Sometimes, as he spoke of the killing, Bobby would bow his head and cry quietly, almost unnoticeably. He would fidget constantly, kicking off his shoes, removing his socks and knotting them into a soft cosh. He messed with the polystyrene bust in his room, smearing it with crayon colouring for make-up, defacing the eyes, nose and mouth. He played cassette tapes of Patsy Cline and Diana Ross, which had been given to him by his mother. He twisted and styled the hair on the heads of his trolls.
Bobby’s collection of trolls now outnumbered those he had hoarded in his bedroom at home – which had been removed by the police as potential evidence. The new trolls had been brought for him as gifts, mostly by his elder brothers and his mother, who visited him regularly.
Ann’s eldest son, David, had just moved into a flat in Liverpool, setting up on his own for the first time, when James Bulger was killed. He had been shopping with Bobby, buying paint to start decorating the flat, the day after the killing. Following the arrests he too had been forced to leave Liverpool, and was now with his mother, helping her out with baby Ben as he had once helped with his other younger brothers.
Peter, the second eldest, was living in Yorkshire with a girlfriend and working as a trainee manager for a supermarket chain. He couldn’t visit so often, but spent long hours on the phone, talking to Ann.
Philip and Ian had moved together from a care home in Walton to a care home in Derbyshire. Ian had taken another overdose after Bobby’s arrest, and both he and Philip had become involved in some fighting and stealing at their new home, which led to arrests and charges of assault and theft.
Ryan had become increasingly isolated at home and showed increasing signs of disturbed behaviour. Ann would still not run the risk of sending him to school, and would call him in from the garden if he became too chatty with neighbouring children. He had the run down the side of the house on his bike, and that was it. Always a chubby child, he was swelling to even wider proportions as he loafed around in the house.
Ryan was bedwetting regularly, and set a small fire in his bedroom. He seemed almost envious of Bobby’s room at the unit and the attention he was receiving. Ann’s fear that he would spill the beans on his family’s notoriety was replaced with the greater terror that he would do something – ‘something terrible’ – to get looked after like Bobby.
Ben’s father remained in contact with Ann, passing on to her a proposition from The Sun which appeared on the doormat of his home in Walton: ‘We’d like to talk to you. Naturally, you’ll be compensated for your loss of time.’
No one – not even The Sun – knew the whereabouts of Ann’s husband, Bobby Thompson senior. Little Bobby and his brothers all remembered the anniversary of his departure; it was five years this October. Neither they, nor Ann, had any contact with him, and he had apparently severed all ties with Walton.
Bobby senior was in complete ignorance of events for months, until a small advertisement appeared in his local newspaper: ‘Will Robert Thompson, formerly living in Walton, please call this number urgently …’ He saw the advertisement and dialled the telephone number. It was a direct line to a reporter from the Daily Mirror. ‘Did you know your son’s on this James Bulger murder charge?’ No, he didn’t know. Bobby senior put the phone down and called Merseyside Police.
Two of the case officers, Phil Roberts and Jim Green, went out to meet him and explain the charges Bobby was facing. They took a one-page statement from him, outlining the brief circumstances of his separation from Ann, and his limited contact with the family – once in five years. They advised him to contact Dominic Lloyd, his son’s solicitor. Lloyd was at first suspicious of the call. Press activity was intense in the weeks before the trial, and pretending to be Bobby’s dad might simply be an effective way of extracting information. Persuaded that this was not a hack in paternal clothing, Lloyd arranged to meet Bobby senior one night at a pub in Southport.
He turned up with Barbara, the woman he had met at the campsite just up the road, and for whom he had left Ann and the boys. He said he had not kept in touch with the family because there was just no talking sense with Ann. He said he’d like to visit Bobby. (This was vetoed by social services because it might further disturb Bobby in the run-up to the trial.) Like his wife and his sons, Bobby senior was shocked at the news of his son’s arrest, and incredulous that his lad could be involved in the killing. None of them could believe or understand that he was capable of such violence.
The Crown’s forensic evidence clearly demonstrated that the patterned mark on James’s cheek came from a shoe, and had been caused by a stamp or a kick. It was the imprint of the upper part of a shoe. The D-ring lace holders, and the lace itself, were visible in the imprint. There was equally no doubt that it was Bobby’s shoe.
The defence sought its own expert forensic examination. The expert consulted William J. Bodziak’s book, Footwear Impression Evidence, which considered marks left on skin according to the force connected with a blow. It was arguable that a lighter blow would be more likely to leave a clearer imprint such as the mark on James’s face. It would be more difficult to argue that the mark had not been caused by a kick, and impossible to argue that it had not been caused by Bobby’s shoe.
This was the single most damning piece of forensic evidence against either defendant, and it undermined Bobby’s assertion that he had taken no part in the attack. If the jury believed the forensic evidence, they would be unlikely to believe Bobby.
After hurried discussion at this late stage, and with some misgivings from all concerned, including Bobby, who did not think of himself as a nutter, Bobby’s lawyers decided to submit their client to a psychiatric assessment. They chose a Consultant Child and Adolescent Psychiatrist from the Tavistock Clinic in London, Dr Eileen Vizard. The Crown was notified of this change of approach, and responded with a renewed request for Dr Bailey to see Bobby. She travelled to his secure unit, but he refused to be seen by her.
Dr Vizard saw Bobby on Saturday, 16 October, two weeks before the start of the trial, and five years to the day since Bobby senior had left his family. Dr Vizard took with her a colleague, Colin Hawkes, a probation officer who specialised in working with adolescent and adult abusers. She also took a toy train set, several toy cars and some dolls. The assessment interview lasted four hours, and her report, delivered on the fifth day of the trial, ran to 27 pages.
Dr Vizard would have liked to have videotaped the interview, but this was vetoed by Bobby, who also asked that his case worker from social services sit in for reassurance. They gathered around a low table in a staff meeting room at the unit. It was warm in the room, but Bobby wanted the windows closed in case someone from the media, or elsewhere, was eavesdropping.
Bobby was asked if he knew why Dr Vizard and Mr Hawkes had come to see him. He said, to see if I’m a nutter … to see if anything was playing in my head when it happened. That’s right, he was told, but they were also interested in finding out if he needed help as a result of having been present when James Bulger was killed.
When it became apparent that Dr Vizard would be doing most of the talking, Bobby turned his chair to face her. She and Colin Hawkes observed in their report that he maintained good eye contact and that, from time to time, he drummed or tapped with his hands on the arms of his chair. The drumming accelerated when the questions became difficult or worrying, and at times he was humming anxiously under his breath. He sometimes shifted in his chair in a rocking motion or curled up in the chair like a smaller child. On one occasion he sucked his thumb.
They spoke about going to court, and Bobby was asked how he felt about the trial. He became hesitant and looked across at his case worker. It seemed as if he was looking for reassurance. He said he was most afraid of all the crowds but, as the windows of the van were opaque, his fear was not so great. He was asked what he would say in court, and replied, not guilty. He said he knew he would come back to his unit, whatever the verdict, and began tapping more vigorously on the arm of his chair when asked how long he thought he might have to remain in secure accommodation. That’s not for me to guess, he said.
Already, as their report observed, Dr Vizard and her colleague saw Bobby as an articulate boy of reasonable intelligence who was spontaneous in his speech and communication. He spoke rapidly at times, but was coherent and rational, and understood all the questions. At times it almost seemed that he was of better than average intelligence, his responses being carefully gauged for his interviewers.
They moved on to talk about Bobby’s family and drew up a family tree, with Bobby showing an accurate recall of names, ages and events. The report explained how Bobby had perceived his father as a consistent source of control in the family until 1988, when he had suddenly left home and had not returned.
It was Bobby’s recollection that they had all been camping together when his father returned from a visit to the pub to say that he was leaving. Bobby looked sad as he said he couldn’t make any sense of it. He seemed to be actively reliving the experience of rejection by his father, though he then tried to deny that his father’s departure had caused him any significant distress. He said things in the family got looser afterwards, and his mother needed a lot of help from social workers so she could cope. I’m surprised she did cope, with all of us boys on her own.
He seemed keen to talk about his mother, and told of her asthma and the trapped nerve in her hand which was going to need surgery. Dr Vizard said she understood that his mother had a temporary problem with drinking too much after his father left. Bobby found this subject difficult, and at first denied any problem. Then he said she did drink at one time, but, like, only three nights a week, when she would go straight to bed on her return from the pub.
Bobby sounded defensive now and, for the first time, dropped eye contact with Dr Vizard. He picked up a toy lion and began playing with it on his leg and on the arm of the chair. The lion was made to scratch and attack the arm of the chair angrily. Bobby said he wasn’t bothered whether his mother drank or not and, anyway, she doesn’t touch a drop now.
They stopped then for lunch, and the train set was laid out on the table. After they had eaten, they discussed Bobby’s weight, and he said he’d put on a lot, and was now eight and a half stones: I was like a matchstick, compared with what I am now. He said he took no exercise at the unit because the other boys were much older and the gym equipment was too heavy to use.
He slept fairly well, and would ring the buzzer when he had nightmares, so that a member of staff would come and comfort him. He described a recurring dream in which he was chasing someone through the street and ran into the road where he was hit by a car. The car hit him on the front, no, on the side. As he spoke of the dream Bobby began fanning his face with his hands as if it was making him feel hot and bothered. He looked agitated and asked his case worker to open the windows. He said that whenever he had the dream he would try not to go back to sleep again, in case the dream returned. He now looked distressed and red-faced, and looked anxiously around the room.
Dr Vizard told Bobby that sometimes nightmares were linked to painful memories and it helped to talk through these issues. Bobby said he tried to keep his mind off his dream. Again, he looked around the room, as if he would like to escape. When Dr Vizard said it was helpful to talk about bad memories, as well as painful dreams, Bobby leaned forward and touched the toy railway track. He seemed to be anxiously humming or muttering under his breath.
There were three cloth dolls on the table with the train track. Dr Vizard explained the idea of using these toys to help Bobby give his account of James Bulger’s death. A Jon doll, a Bobby doll, a James doll. She asked Bobby’s thoughts about James. How do you mean, the baby? Bobby put his hands over his eyes and began to cry. They told him it was understandable that he should cry. There were bound to be strong feelings involved when someone had been present at, and perhaps taken part in, the death of a child.
Dr Vizard said it would help to cry, and Bobby reacted angrily through his tears. Well, how does this help me? If they were going to help him they needed to know how he felt when James Bulger was killed. Bobby was crying bitterly. How does it help to make it all come back? I don’t want to do it. He was given a tissue by Dr Vizard, to wipe his tears.
She and Mr Hawkes said they realised how difficult it was for Bobby to talk about the killing, but it was also difficult to understand what had happened, because Jon said Bobby did it and Bobby said Jon did it. Bobby said, that’s the truth.
They began to move the dolls on the track, Bobby holding the Bobby doll, and Dr Vizard holding the Jon doll, asking him where she should place the James doll. Bobby said he was holding Jons hand and that Jon and the baby were about five yards ahead of him as they walked along the track. Dr Vizard asked what happened next and, with a flicking gesture of his wrist, Bobby said Jon had thrown paint in one of the baby’s eyes. Dr Vizard coloured the James doll’s left eye and cheek with blue marker pen to show where the paint had stained.
Reluctantly, in response to Dr Vizard’s request, Bobby used the dolls to show how Jon had thrown a brick at James. He demonstrated with the James doll how the baby fell backwards into a sitting position. He showed how Jon had thrown another brick as James tried to get up. He became increasingly involved in moving the dolls to represent the assault, dolls and track being dislodged from the table as he tried to position them correctly, determined to show his version of events. Jon had thrown three or four more bricks and then the iron bar.
Occasionally, Bobby paused, staring at the scene before him, as if lost in thought. He seemed genuinely upset by this process of reliving the assault. Sometimes, he corrected Dr Vizard’s positioning of the dolls.
Bobby moved the dolls to show how Jon had dragged James across the tracks and placed him face upwards across the rail. He said Jon continued to throw bricks which hit James on the head and body. Dr Vizard asked Bobby where he had been standing and what he had been doing. He said, I tried to stop him, pulled him down once or twice but he was getting more angry. Bobby placed the Bobby doll behind the Jon doll and wrapped the Bobby doll’s arms around the Jon doll’s body, showing how the two fell backwards onto the track by James. Bobby said, Jon got up more angry, I don’t know what he was angry about. I tried to get up after he squashed me because he fell on top of me. My back was all squashed.
Bobby then spent some time trying to demonstrate how Jon had placed bricks around James’s head. The James doll would not lie still and be held by the bricks positioned against it. He was asked to show how James’s lower clothing had been removed by Jon, and the James doll was dislodged from the bricks as he did so. Bobby said Jon had placed the underlayer on James’s mouth.
Dr Vizard asked what else had happened and Bobby said, I’m trying not to watch him. He didn’t join in the assault because he wasn’t that kind of person. He didn’t speak to Jon because he was so shocked he said nothing.
Bobby could not explain the alleged disturbance of James’s penis, which Dr Vizard said had puzzled her. Jon took the pants off, I was trying not to look, said Bobby. It could have been caused by the bricks, or Jon’s kicking, though he had seen most of the things Jon did.
Dr Vizard asked Bobby if either he or Jon had touched or interfered with James’s genitals. Bobby looked away and said, no. He sounded defensive and angry. Dr Vizard said it was difficult to understand why two boys should take a young child away, physically damage him and then take off his trousers. She wondered if it had been the intention of either Jon or Bobby to sexually abuse the little boy and whether this went badly wrong, with the result that they became angry and tried to silence him.
Bobby listened, head down, playing with some toy animals. He seemed unsurprised, or unmoved, by the idea that there might have been a sexual motive. He looked directly at Dr Vizard and said, angrily, I didn’t touch him. He looked down and shrugged his shoulders when Dr Vizard suggested Jon might have interfered with James while Bobby wasn’t looking: I dunno, I didn’t see what he did when I looked away. I was shocked, wasn’t I.
Dr Vizard said Bobby’s description made Jon’s behaviour sound very strange and beyond explanation. Bobby looked up and said, he is a strange boy. Bobby seemed annoyed when Dr Vizard asked if there wasn’t anything else he could have done to stop Jon: I couldn’t hold him all night or throw him off the railway bridge. I couldn’t move him off the railway.
Bobby said he didn’t know where the blood on his shoes came from. He responded irritably to Dr Vizard’s suggestion that it was James’s blood: yes, it’s not just started raining blood, has it. There must have been so much blood that it seemed like rain, said Dr Vizard. Bobby nodded and looked down. He said the assault ended when Jon just stopped, all red in the face and staring at the baby. They slid down the lamp-post and didn’t speak afterwards.
Dr Vizard pointed out that Bobby had said nothing to explain the impression of his shoe on James’s face. Bobby said he hadn’t kicked James and didn’t have a clue how the mark got there. At Dr Vizard’s request he again used the Bobby doll and the Jon doll to show his struggle with Jon. Dr Vizard suggested he might have stamped on or kicked James’s face in this struggle. Bobby didn’t know: I’m not concentrating on what my feet are doing, I’m putting all my pressure on him, my feet are going all over the place.
Bobby was asked what he was thinking when he left the railway line. He said he was thinking, what on earth did he do that for, he’s an effing bastard. He thought Jon would get a good beating for what he had done. Bobby didn’t think he would get into trouble because he hadn’t done anything.
Why had James’s body been placed across the track? Bobby said, it’s not up to me to think why he put the baby on the track. Then he added, so it would get cut up. What was the point of that? Bobby looked uncomfortable. He said, repeatedly, that he didn’t know. Then he said, some people might say it would give an excuse.
When he was asked what kind of little boy James had been, Bobby said, all little boys are nice until they get older. James had been quiet, in comparison with baby Ben, although he was asking, where is my mother, every three minutes.
Dr Vizard noticed that Bobby had the Jon doll in his hand, swinging it to and fro. She asked him if Jon had ever tried to steal a baby from its mother before. Bobby had never seen him. He said, Jon doesn’t like being around babies. I do. Bobby left the room to go to the toilet.
When he came back he was asked how he felt James Bulger’s death might affect him as he grew older. Bobby thought he might end up lonely, never able to go out. People would always keep their children in sight, in case they might disappear. Dr Vizard’s colleague said people might fear Jon and Bobby, and see them as very dangerous to children. Bobby sighed, and began knotting the arms and legs of the cloth doll he was holding.
He said he never had any angry or violent thoughts about children. Dr Vizard said he might be afraid of describing such thoughts. Bobby suddenly pulled his legs up onto the chair and began sucking his thumb, banging the cloth doll against the side of his chair. He was like a much younger child. Dr Vizard said it would be better to let such thoughts out, rather than bottle them up in his mind where they might cause him more distress. Bobby sighed several times and did not reply.
With the interview coming to an end, Dr Vizard and her colleague told Bobby that they believed he would be helped in future by being able to talk more openly about what had happened in the past. They thought he had more to say about his actions and feelings and that, perhaps, important aspects of James’s death had not been shared during the interview. Bobby had held back some facts and been honest about others.
He responded angrily, saying he had told them one hundred per cent of his actions and ninety-nine per cent of his feelings. He said he now felt angry with Jon and would like to ask him why he killed James. He would like to give him a slap. Dr Vizard said he seemed much angrier than that, and wondered what he really felt about Jon. Bobby agreed, chuckling, and said he would like to kick his face in. Dr Vizard suggested he pick up the Bobby doll and the Jon doll, and Bobby smiled as he used the Bobby doll to kick the Jon doll.
Finally, what would he like to say to James, if such a thing was possible. What, say to the baby? I don’t know. Bobby went quiet and became tearful. Eventually he said, I feel sorry for him.
He was told the meeting had ended, and quickly became more relaxed, playing unselfconsciously with the dolls and the train set.
In the summary of their report, Dr Vizard and Colin Hawkes first addressed Bobby’s current state of mind and his fitness to stand trial. They wrote that he had presented as a boy of average intelligence, fully orientated in time and space, with no signs of any formal mental illness such as psychosis or a major depressive disorder. In a boy who had been described as underachieving academically, it was interesting to note his flashes of quick intelligence, and the ease and eagerness with which he used the play materials.
His affectual responses – feelings – had been varied and seemed to relate, more or less accurately, to whatever he was describing or demonstrating at the time. He cried readily, and genuinely, when asked what he thought about James. He went from bitter sobbing to an angry exchange when it was suggested that describing his feelings might be helpful.
It had been made clear at several points during the interview that Bobby intended to repress or hold back all conscious memories and feelings about the murder. It was also clear that this was a great effort and that his emotional responses would break through and be expressed in some way. In terms of body language, Bobby had been active during the interview. He had gone to the toilet when distressed, moved around in the chair, and sometimes seemed to feel trapped. Despite these indicators of such feelings as anxiety and anger, there had been an impressive sense that Bobby was able to contain his feelings and responses to the killing, so that the same story always emerged. There was no real sense that he would allow himself to relax and speak freely.
It was a complex picture, but Bobby’s feelings, his body language, sleep disturbance, bad dreams and anxiety about allowing recall of the crime could be understood in terms of the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder after being present at or involved in the killing of James Bulger. These symptoms would have worsened over the last eight months, in the absence of any skilled therapeutic help, and limited Bobby’s capacity to testify in his own defence.
The report relied on the American Psychiatric Association’s diagnostic criteria, DSM-III-R, for diagnosis of Bobby’s state of mind. He had experienced an event outside the range of usual human experience (a murder), which was the defining criteria for post-traumatic stress, and the symptoms Dr Vizard and her colleague had observed in Bobby conformed to the Assocation’s classification of the disorder. The report said it should be made clear that there was no reason to think Bobby suffered from the disorder before the crime.
With the limited information available to them about Bobby’s background and his schooling, and in the absence of a psychological report (Bobby had refused to see a psychologist), Dr Vizard and Colin Hawkes could only make a clinical assessment of Bobby as having an Academic Problem and a Conduct Disorder.
The former was appropriate, because there was no mental disorder to explain Bobby’s underachievement. The academic problem seemed to be linked to a pattern of truanting which was item A 13 in the DSMR-III-R definition of Conduct Disorder, Undifferentiated Type. He was also known to have been stealing, to tell lies and to have been physically cruel to people, all of which were part of the definition. The report said that Bobby’s weight increase since arriving at the unit suggested he might have been finding solace in food, in a way which probably related to his high levels of anxiety about his past behaviour and its future consequences.
The report said that questions could and, in the opinion of its authors, should be asked about why such a young child was not seen and assessed by a psychiatrist or psychologist, following his involvement in such a horrific crime. In the absence of any such examination comments about Bobby’s mental state at the time of the killing could only be speculative.
Still, it could be argued that, before the offences, there was a body of evidence that suggested emotional and behavioural disturbance in Bobby and might have merited the attention of an expert. It seemed likely that there were conflicts, doubtless relating to home and school life, in Bobby’s mind which drove him to participate, in a very calculated way, in the offences.
Assessing Bobby’s current and future needs, the report suggested that Bobby’s emotional and physical development was being impaired by his placement at the unit which, in the opinion of the authors, was quite inappropriate for such a young boy. He had no same-age peers and his main activity was playing video games on his own. The unit gym was equipped for older boys and he could not join in physical activities, nor find flat, open spaces inside the unit on which to play roller boarding or other active games.
Dr Vizard and Colin Hawkes were concerned about Bobby’s increase in weight. It was not, the report stated, a trivial matter, and had implications for his future physical health. Clinical experience suggested that obesity in children was often associated with the early onset of puberty, for which Bobby should receive counselling or therapy.
They were gravely concerned over the absence of any therapeutic work with Bobby or his family since the arrest. There might or might not have been legal advice about the need to avoid compromising or contaminating Bobby’s defence by pretrial therapy, but Bobby’s best interests needed to be actively considered alongside his status as an alleged juvenile offender. In the opinion of the report’s authors, Bobby’s capacity to instruct his lawyers and testify in his defence had been impaired by the residual, untreated symptoms of post-traumatic stress.
He had not been able to express his feelings about the alleged offences and this might be more difficult in the future. It was also likely that his family’s attitude towards Bobby and the offences would become fixed in a legal perspective and it would be harder for the family to benefit from therapy.
There was an immediate need for Bobby and his family to be helped to begin talking about the offences and the likely effects on the rest of his life. The report also recommended that Bobby should not be allowed any unsupervised contact with younger or vulnerable children, because of the serious risk of Significant Harm which he posed.