One of Your Own (26 page)

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Authors: Carol Ann Lee

BOOK: One of Your Own
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At six o’clock, Lesley was still at the fair. Bernard King, an 11-year-old boy who attended the same school, spotted her from where he stood beside the spinning waltzers. She was by the dodgems, alone, gazing at the bright, speeding cars as they thudded about the rink, the jolt of buffers colliding. Bernard passed Lesley to get to the cyclone and that was the last he saw of her.
The sliding guitars of the Rolling Stones’ recent number one single, ‘Little Red Rooster’, blared from the fairground speakers as Myra and Ian watched Lesley from the darkness behind the dodgems’ rink.
1
They waited several minutes, observing her spellbound expression as purplish sparks of electricity flickered on the wire mesh overhead from the car rods, and when they were sure she was alone, they made their approach.
Groceries spilled from the overfilled boxes Myra and Ian carried awkwardly in their arms; as Lesley turned to look, Myra smiled and asked if she would mind giving them a hand taking the boxes back to their car nearby. She promised Lesley a reward for her help and the little girl readily agreed, following where the couple led through the glittering fairground to the dim side street where their car was discreetly parked. Myra asked Lesley if she might help them unload the boxes at home, and again the little girl nodded, climbing into the front passenger seat. They piled the boxes around Lesley to hide her from view, then drove away from the hectic noise and light of the fair to the quiet, dark streets of Hattersley.
After saying goodbye to the other children, eight-year-old Tommy rushed up the stairs at Charnley Walk and burst through the door of the flat, expecting to find Lesley already there. His mother stared at him, aghast, as he stuttered out his sister’s decision to return to the fairground alone. Ann sent Tommy back down to Mrs Clarke’s flat to see if Lesley was there; when he returned white-faced with shock, she and Alan threw on their coats and dashed out with instructions for Tommy and Terry to stay with four-year-old Brett. They ran down Iron Street, Christmas lights twinkling in every window they passed, and headed onto the recreation ground, where the Ferris wheel revolved endlessly on the skyline. One of Lesley’s favourite songs, ‘Let’s Dance’, belted out across the heads of the shrieking, excited crowds. But Lesley – like Pauline, John and Keith before her – had vanished.
Inside the house at Wardle Brook Avenue, Myra told Lesley to take the boxes upstairs. Ian was already in the bedroom; Myra intended to follow, but the dogs dashed into the hall. She later maintained that she had wanted to shut the dogs in the kitchen, and, as she ushered them out, closing the kitchen door on their whines, she heard Lesley screaming.
In the account Myra gave over 20 years later to Peter Topping of Lesley’s final hours, she stated that the little girl was screaming because Ian was trying to undress her. She climbed the stairs and in the bleakly furnished room, where a window apparently hung open to let in the bitter winter air, she saw Lesley crying as Ian attempted to remove her coat. ‘I know I should have tried to protect the child and comfort her, but I didn’t,’ Myra told Topping. ‘I was cruel, I was brusque and I told her to shut up because I was frightened people would hear. I just panicked.’
2
She claimed not to know that Ian had set up the tape recorder she had bought him that Christmas below the divan; a sheet hung down from the bed, hiding the machine. She also told Topping that the tape was recording before Ian started photographing Lesley in the nude, which would appear to be true, borne out by Lesley’s own muffled words on the tape.
The sequence of events is partially verified by the tape recording: it begins with the sound of Ian moving about the room, pushing the dogs out and checking that the microphone works, then Myra’s voice is heard as she brings Lesley into the room – these are the two sets of footsteps heard on the recording, before a handkerchief was forced into Lesley’s mouth, to gag her.
Beneath the divan, the spools of brown tape revolved inexorably.
3
Ian: ‘This is track four. Get out of the fucking road. Get in the fucking basket.’
Sound of door banging, crackling, heavy footsteps, recording noises, blowing sounds in microphone, more footsteps. Myra’s voice, quiet, indecipherable. Light footsteps walking across the room, whispered conversation and, at the same time, footsteps. Distant speech containing the word ‘upstairs’, then two sets of footsteps
.
Lesley: [screaming] ‘Don’t. Mum. Ah.’
Myra: ‘Shut up.’
Lesley: ‘Please God, help me, please, oh.’
Myra: ‘Come on.’
Whispering and footsteps
.
Myra: ‘Shut up.’
Lesley: ‘Oh please, please. Oh. [faintly] Help, oh. I can’t go on, you’ve got hold of my neck. Oh. [screaming] Help.’
A gurgling noise. Heavy breathing, sounds of distress, laboured breathing
.
Myra: ‘Ssh. Ssh. Shut up, shut up.’
Screams and gurgles. Lesley crying
.
Myra: [whispering] ‘Keep [unintelligible]. You will be right. Sit down and be quiet. [whispers]’
Ian: ‘Go on.’
Whispers. Footsteps on the stairs, then entering the room
.
Lesley crying, muffled
.
Ian: [whispered] ‘Here.’
Myra: ‘Hush, hush, go on.’ [indecipherable]
Lesley crying
.
Myra: ‘You are all right. Hush, hush. Put it in your mouth – hush and shift that hand.’
Lesley crying
.
Myra: ‘Put it in your mouth and keep it in and you’ll be all right. Put it in. Stop it. If you don’t – ssh.’
Lesley crying
.
Myra: ‘In your mouth. Hush, hush. Shut up or I’ll forget myself and hit you one. Keep it in.’
Lesley whimpering
.
Ian: ‘Put it in.’
Myra: ‘Put it in.’ [spoken quickly]
Ian speaks, but words indecipherable except for ‘hand’. Then footsteps
.
Ian: ‘Put it in. Keep it in. Stop it now, stop it now.’
Myra: ‘I’m only doing this and you’ll be all right. Put it in your mouth. Put it in – in.’
Further words spoken by Myra but indecipherable except for ‘put it in’
.
Myra: ‘Will you stop it. Stop it.’
Myra’s voice indecipherable, Lesley whimpering
.
Myra: ‘Shut—’
Ian: ‘Quick. Put it in now.’
Lesley whimpering and then retching
.
Ian: ‘Just put it in now, love. Put it in now.’
Lesley retching
.
Lesley: [muffled] ‘What’s this in for?’
Ian: ‘Put it in.’
Lesley: ‘Can I just tell you summat? I must tell you summat. Please take your hands off me a minute, please. Please – Mummy – please. I can’t tell you [grunting]. I can’t tell you. I can’t breathe. Oh. I can’t – Dad – will you take your hands off me?’
Ian whispering
.
Ian: ‘No. Tell me.’
Lesley: ‘Please God.’
Ian: ‘Tell me.’
Lesley: ‘I can’t while you’ve got your hands on me.’
Lesley mumbling
.
Ian: ‘Why don’t you keep it in?’
Lesley: ‘Why? What are you going to do with me?’
Ian: ‘I want to take some photographs, that’s all. Put it in.’
Lesley: ‘Don’t undress me, will you?’
Myra: ‘That’s right, don’t—’
Lesley: ‘It hurts me. I want to see Mummy, honest to God.’
Ian: ‘Put it in.’
Lesley: ‘I’ll swear on the Bible.’
Ian: ‘Put it in and hurry up now. The quicker you do this, the quicker you’ll get home.’
Lesley: ‘I’ve got to go because I’m going out with my mama. Leave me, please. Help me, will you?’
Ian: ‘Put it in your mouth and you’ll be all right.’
Lesley: ‘Will you let me go when this is out?’
Ian: ‘Yes. The longer it takes to do this, the longer it takes you to get home.’
Lesley: ‘What are you going to do with me first?’
Ian: ‘I’m going to take some photographs. Put it in your mouth.’
Lesley: ‘What for?’
Ian: ‘Put it in your mouth. [pause] Right in.’
Lesley: ‘I’m not going to do owt.’
Ian: ‘Put it in. If you don’t keep that hand down, I’ll slit your neck. [pause] Put it in.’
Lesley: ‘Won’t you let me go? Please?’
Ian: ‘No, no, put it in. Stop talking [then] What’s your name?’
Lesley: ‘Lesley.’
Ian: ‘Lesley what?’
Lesley: ‘Ann.’
Ian: ‘What’s your second name?’
Lesley: ‘Westford. Westford.’
Ian: ‘Westford?’
Lesley: ‘I have to go home for eight o’clock. I got to get [pause] Or I’ll get killed if I don’t. Honest to God.’
Ian: ‘Yes.’
Quick footsteps of Myra leaving the room and going downstairs. Then a click, and a door closing, then Myra’s footsteps coming upstairs, followed by eight longer steps
.
Ian: ‘What is it?’
Myra: ‘I have left the light on.’
Ian: ‘You have?’
Myra: ‘So that . . .’
Indecipherable, then Lesley crying
.
Lesley: ‘It hurts me neck.’
Ian: ‘Hush, put it in your mouth and you’ll be all right.’
Myra: ‘Now listen, shut up crying.’
Lesley: [crying] ‘It hurts me on me—’
Myra: [interrupting] ‘Hush. Shut up. Now put it in. Pull that hand away and don’t dally and just keep your mouth shut, please. Wait a bit. I’ll put this on again. Do you get me?’
Lesley: [whining] ‘No, I . . .’ [indecipherable]
Myra: ‘Ssh. Hush. Put that in your mouth. And again, packed more solid.’
Whispered, indecipherable sentences
.
Lesley: ‘I want to go home. Honest to God I’ll [her speech is muffled] before eight o’clock.’
Myra: ‘No, it’s all right.’
Ian: ‘Eh?’
The music begins: a country-style tune, followed by
‘Jolly St Nicholas’
and
‘The Little Drummer Boy’,
during which a voice speaks. Three loud cracks are heard and the music of
‘The Little Drummer Boy’
grows fainter. There is a sound of footsteps, fading
.
The tape ends
.
4
The music, Myra insisted to Topping, came from a radio that was playing in the room. The prosecution lawyers at the trial were equally vehement that the music did
not
come from a radio but had been added deliberately to intensify the horror of the recording.
5
The three loud cracks at the end of the tape occurred when Ian opened the tripod and set up the camera; he then stopped the tape recorder and removed the plug from the sole socket in the bedroom to switch on the bright photography light. Lesley was forced to undress and either Ian or Myra bound a scarf around the lower half of the little girl’s face, making it almost impossible for her to breathe. Ian then took a series of photographs of the child.
6
Myra described her actions that night as ‘assisting Ian in the preparation of Lesley Ann’.
7
Her prison therapist noted that she did so in the same way ‘a parent may describe preparing a child to take a bath or dress for school. Her voice remained monotone as she referred to the binding and gagging of the victim and her positioning for photos and “acts of indecency”.’
8
Initially, Myra told her prison therapist that she left the room when the photographs were being taken and sat on the stairs, drinking a bottle of wine, but in subsequent therapy sessions and during her confession to Peter Topping, she admitted to running a bath for Lesley at Ian’s request
after
the photographs were taken to get rid of any dog hairs or fibres on the child. She claimed she then waited in the bathroom while Ian raped and murdered Lesley.

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