The Sleep of Reason: The James Bulger Case

by David James Smith

  Constrained by the trial, trapped in their chairs, there was no room for normal childlike behaviour. No nipping off to kick a ball around, no being excused to go to the loo. No robbing or sagging. Instead, Bobby and Jon fidgeted; rolled and unrolled their ties, played with tissues, fiddled with their hands, shifted around in their seats. This was especially so in the afternoon sessions, when their concentration was spent.

  Jon fished around in the pockets of his jacket and bit his nails. It had initially looked as if he might be unable to survive the ordeal of the trial. But, after the first couple of days, he appeared to adjust to the routine. He moved his fingers, as if playing a computer game in his head. He glanced anxiously around, particularly towards his mum and dad when they were showing signs of distress. The lawyers, near him, noticed that Jon was keen to catch their eye, to receive a warm response and a smile, which he would eagerly return.

  Bobby slumped back and stared at the ceiling; he sighed and asked his care worker the time and was shown the care worker’s wrist watch. He unravelled the overlong sleeves of his oversized shirts, which dangled from his hands like those of a straitjacket. He did not, as one tabloid writer suggested, stare out members of the jury. As many others suggested, he showed no emotion — though this was probably not, as many implied, because he was feeling no emotion. Bobby sucked his thumb and licked his fingers, and some who observed this ascribed very specific explanations of childhood disturbance. There was a theory that Bobby sucked his thumb because he had been orally, sexually abused. Who knows? Perhaps he sucked his thumb and licked his fingers because he was very insecure. With these two boys, who had done so much and given away so little, anything was possible, and the speculation unbounded.

  In the queue coming back into court one lunchtime — all journalists and members of the public had to walk through a metal detector and be frisked with a scanner — a reporter stepped into the doorway and met two colleagues. Phew, he said, I just saw a kid outside who looked like Robert Thompson. It really spooked me. The reporter did not notice the two representatives from Liverpool Social Services standing behind him, all their worst impressions of the assembled media confirmed in an instant. They complained to the court, and the judge made a general announcement about the need to exercise caution when using the boys’ names outside the courtroom.

  In court at the end of one session, a writer up from London leant on the rail of the public gallery and watched, as many did, while the boys were led down to the cell area: two lumpy, awkward figures, almost waddling down the steps. He’s such a sweet boy, that one, said the writer. That other one, he’s a little thug: the fatty. There was not much sympathy in circulation for the boys, but what little there was went to Jon, who looked so troubled and had shown such distress, which could be described as remorse. It was only later, after his interviews had been played in court, that people began to point out the coldness, the cruelty, that they believed they saw in Jon’s eyes.

  ■

  By the consensus of counsel, Denise Bulger was not called to give her evidence in person. Her statement was read to the jury on the third day, and was followed by the screening, on the television monitors, of a compilation from the Strand’s security video.

  It lasted for some 20 minutes, during which time, for the only time, the court sat in total silence. An arrow had been added to the images, to indicate the position of the boys, and James, in the footage. The arrow darted from one side of the screen to the other, and everyone in court did their best to follow it. The boys were little more than streaks of colour. The jury asked to see the last few minutes again, watching James’s exit from the shopping precinct, with Jon at his side, and Bobby just in front, looking back as he walked ahead.

  Other witnesses, whose evidence was not contested, were also not called, and had their statements read. Again, by agreement, Graham Nelson, who had identified Jon as one of two boys he had seen at the Strand in late January, was not called, his statement not read.

  When the last witness had been called, on the seventh day of the trial, Henriques began entering the exhibits. As he numbered and itemised each one, a police officer held it up in a thick polystyrene bag. When it came to exhibit 34, the metal bar, the fishplate, the judge asked if he could see it. My Lord, said Henriques, this is one exhibit we’d rather like to have handed round, if we may.

  The judge took the bar and, having felt its weight, passed it on to a clerk so that it could be held by the jury. The judge told the jury the bar was extremely heavy. Do not drop it on your big toe, because it might cause some damage, he said. One woman juror declined the offer to hold the bar. The press watched all this with fascination, and took full notes.

  The bloodstained bricks, the bloodstained stones, the various pieces of James’s clothing that had been found at the scene, a tin of Humbrol paint … all were held up for inspection, though none were passed round. The last items to be entered were the clothes Bobby and Jon had been wearing on the day. Jon’s jacket was produced from its bag, at the judge’s request. It was mustard-coloured, and very small. It looked in need of a clean. The paint stain mark of a hand, which was probably James’s hand, was just visible.

  Forensic scientists were called to explain the part each exhibit had played in the killing of James. The pathologist described the scene that had greeted him when he was called to the railway on Sunday the fourteenth, and the results of his post mortem. Henriques asked him if it was immediately apparent that the head had sustained multiple injuries. Yes, said the pathologist, Alan Williams. He went on to describe the shattering of James’s skull, and outlined the many injuries, one after the other. He could not isolate a single blow as the cause of death, because there were so many.

  As he had described in his report, Williams said the foreskin of James’s penis appeared abnormal, and was partially retracted. He said it was not normal in a child of that age, and would require pulling back or forceful retraction. This was the only indication of any sexual assault. At the time the police had interviewed Bobby and Jon, they believed that the batteries might have been inserted into James’s rectum. There were no admissions from the boys, and there was no reported evidence of any injury to support this. Forensic tests on the batteries had also failed to produce any result.

  The presence of the batteries at the scene, like so much else about the killing, remained unexplained. Throughout the trial it was the source of much rumour and speculative theorising. Albert Kirby privately expressed the view that the batteries had been inserted and said as much to social services case workers after the trial. Jon had said something similar in an account of the attack he had given his mother.

  The extent to which sexual assault had been part of the attack, and perhaps even the motive, was a difficult issue. It had probably tormented James’s family, but, if the killing is ever to be explained, it cannot be ignored or hidden away. It is possible that other injuries, particularly to the mouth, are indicators of sexual assault. The extreme reaction of both boys to this area of questioning during the interviews — They’re trying to say I’m a pervert’ — is significant. If the boys did do this, it had almost certainly been done to them, one or other of them, or both, at some stage in their brief lives.

  Susan and Neil Venables were not sitting in court for these unpalatable sessions with the scientists. Ralph Bulger had given up some days earlier. He made it known, through his solicitor, that it was all too much to bear. The jury, every one of them, looked colourless and strained.

  Much of the reporting of the trial began to seem prurient in its concentration on gruesome and disturbing detail. BBC local radio on Merseyside began warning its listeners that they might find some of the following trial report distressing. In the newspapers, the story shrank, and slipped down the pages.

  Bobby and Jon sat in the dock playing with tissues. The forensic evidence linking them to the scene, and the killing, was overwhelming. Their counsel could make little headway with the various experts.

  Phil Rydeard had
examined the boot mark on James’s face. He conceded, in response to a question from the judge, that it could have been caused by a light impact. But it was the result, he was satisfied, of a dynamic action. He did not think a fall forward on to the shoe could have produced that bruising.

  The prosecution had intended to follow the forensic evidence with the boys’ teachers. Jim Fitzsimmons had spent many hours taking statements from staff at the school, describing the boys behaviour in and out of the classroom, and the material had been served as part of the Crowns case.

  At the end of the seventh day of the trial, when the last forensic expert had been called, the jury were dismissed, and the judge and counsel discussed the issue of doli incapax — which the judge referred to as doli capax. Morland said he believed the bulk of the teachers’ evidence was inadmissible, because it was hearsay. The only evidence that was admissible was expert opinion that the boys knew right from wrong.

  The Crown restructured its case, and there was some delay the following morning, before the trial resumed at midday. Now the Crown would call only the school’s head teacher, and the man who had taught Bobby and Jon in their first year in the same class. Bobby’s lawyers were surprised to discover that the Crown was also calling on expert opinion from both Susan Bailey and Eileen Vizard. They had thought Eileen Vizard was their witness, though they had already decided not to call her themselves.

  During the morning of the eighth day, Bobby’s counsel and his solicitor sat with Eileen Vizard around a table in the magistrates’ retiring room at the court. As they talked it appeared that she had sent a copy of her psychiatric assessment of Bobby to the Crown. Eventually she was asked directly, and said that she had indeed sent the Crown a copy. She said that she had asked Dominic Lloyd, Bobby’s solicitor, if she could send the report to the CPS, and he had said it would be all right. He said he had agreed to her consulting with Susan Bailey and the other experts who had seen Jon, but she had no authority to send the report to the CPS, and he would not have given her that authority.

  It was Bobby’s second barrister, David Williams, who took the steam out of an increasingly acrimonious discussion. He established that Eileen Vizard would only give evidence that Bobby knew right from wrong, on the balance of probabilities. She would concede that psychiatric assessment was not an exact science. The Crown would still have to prove beyond all reasonable doubt that Bobby knew what he was doing was seriously wrong.

  In the courtroom the mood was all aflutter, everyone intrigued and puzzled by the delay, and fascinated by the entrance of Bobby’s mother, Ann, who had decided to attend for the first time. Ann wanted to see the teachers give their evidence, especially the head, who she felt had failed her son in some way. Ann had taken a single anti-depressant that morning, before setting out for the court. It was partially calming, but she was still shaky and distressed, her eyes permanently watery with tears. She held her head up as she walked through the court, and took a seat behind Neil and Susan Venables. They had the support of a woman from Aftermath, Ann had her psychiatric nurse.

  Eileen Vizard was the day’s first witness and, responding to the cautiously worded questions of Henriques, she gave evidence against the boy she had been called in to assess for the defence. On the balance of probabilities, in February, Bobby had known right from wrong, would have known it was wrong to take a young child from its mother, would have known it was wrong to injure a young child and would have known it was wrong to leave an injured child on the railway. There was no evidence that he was suffering from an abnormality of mind at the time of James Bulgers death. He was fit to stand trial.

  In cross-examination by Turner, she gave her opinion that Bobby was suffering from post-traumatic stress and, although he was fit to stand trial, his understanding of the proceedings might be affected by the disorder. It was his preoccupation with what happened and the resulting distress that made her concerned about his level of understanding.

  Susan Bailey gave an almost identical set of answers to questions about Jon from Henriques. She agreed with Walsh, in cross-examination, that Jon burst into tears, cried uncontrollably and showed obvious signs of distress when questioned about James’s death. She had formed the opinion that, for a number of good reasons, he was currently unable to talk about the subject of the charges.

  This, in summary, perhaps 20 minutes out of 17 days, was the full extent of the trial s inquiry into the boys’ mental health.

  The evidence of the two teachers that followed was similarly confined by carefully phrased questions. Henriques asked the head teacher at what age her pupils understood that it was wrong to strike another child with a weapon. ‘I would say from when they come to school — at four or five years of age.’ She had no doubts that Bobby and Jon knew in February that it would have been wrong to take a child from its mother, two and a half miles across Liverpool, and that it would have been wrong to strike a three-year-old with a bride.

  The school aimed specifically to teach children how to behave towards one another. The boys’ previous class teacher said that pupils were specifically taught about right and wrong, and explained the circumstances in which a class talk on the subject might occur. ‘During the course of the year a child might come to me and say so and so has been pulling the legs off insects or standing on ants, and this would lead to a general discussion about cruelty to each other.’

  After the doli evidence, the court began hearing the boys’ police interviews, which were relayed through loudspeakers, with radio pick-up headphones for the jury, the judge, the lawyers and Bobby and Jon if they wanted them. Only the first of Bobby’s interviews was played that afternoon, and at the end of the day’s session Bobby was privately put through a dry run of cross-examination by David Turner, to see if he could be called to give evidence.

  Bobby sat in his room at the court, facing Turner. His mother, his case worker, his solicitor and his second barrister were also in the room. Turner said he would have to be tough, but didn’t want to frighten Bobby. It began gently and calmly. Bobby said he wasn’t really frightened of Jon. Jon had never beaten him up, they had never fought. Messing about fights, not a real fight. He couldn’t say if Jon was a good fighter. Bobby hadn’t seen any proper fighting in the school yard. He didn’t know what he was like at fighting.

  On 12 February Bobby didn’t know if he was frightened of Jon. There was nothing to make him frightened of him … well, when we were up on the railway…

  Bobby had been happy at the Strand. He didn’t notice Jon take another boy. The first time he noticed James was in TJ Hughes, when they came round to go near the steps. He couldn’t remember if they went up the steps. He noticed James following, but didn’t know how far behind he was. He didn’t see Jon take hold of James until the top of the steps in TJ Hughes. He couldn’t remember if he saw Jon hold James’s hand.

  I seen him hold James’s hand a few times in the Strand. I didn’t ask him what he was doing.

  Why not?

  I just didn’t.

  Outside by the taxi rank, Bobby said he didn’t take hold of James’s hand. Turner said there was evidence that they both held his hands. Bobby said, some of it is right. He didn’t take hold of James’s hand before the canal. It wasn’t his idea to go to the canal, he just went down. He wasn’t in the lead.

  On the bank Jon picked the baby up and threw him on the floor face down. I was in shock.

  Did you do anything?

  No. I didn’t think Jon was the kind of lad to do that.

  Do you know what shock is?

  Yes, I was nearly stiff. It lasted a couple of seconds. I went round and up and I left Jon and the baby.

  Did you say anything?

  I said what did you do that for? He ignored me.

  Did you ask again?

  No. James was crying then. Really crying. I seen a bit of a mark on his head.

  Bobby thought what Jon had done wasn’t really wrong, but wrong, yes.

  In the room, Bobby had been looking up, and
maintaining eye contact with Turner or one of the others. Now he covered his face with a wad of tissues, and kept it there, uncovering his mouth and shouting his replies.

  He said he didn’t tell in case Jon did it again. He was thinking, if he went and told somebody, Jon would do it again.

  He just walked up, but Jon followed him. They went down near the post office and came back.

  Wasn’t the best thing to do to take him back to the Strand?

  1 don’t know.

  Wasn’t the best thing to do to go to the security?

  I never thought to do that. I didn’t say anything. It was a shock for me. I’d never seen Jon do anything like that before.

  Bobby was crying now. He didn’t remember the taxi driver saying Jon had carried James. He didn’t see that. He didn’t see how James crossed Stanley Road. He didn’t think where Jon was taking James, and didn’t ask.

  Was there anything to stop you?

  No. I’m not really bothered about whether James is with us.

  Did you speak to James?

  I asked him what his name was. He said Tony. He was asking for his mum. I didn’t say do you want your mum. I guess he would want his mum.

  Bobby said they walked past the church, crossed over at the Mons. It was very busy. He didn’t pick James up. He didn’t have to. He didn’t know what Jon did on the reservoir. Bobby hadn’t played there before.

  Turner. It’s not a very exciting place to play, is it?

  Bobby. No, it isn’t.

  Turner. When did you hold James?

  Bobby. I had him by the hand at AMEC.

  Turner. Why?

  Bobby. (crying again) I don’t know why, we were just walking.

  Ann. If they put him in that box they’ll bury him.

  Bobby, (crying) I’m not giving evidence. I’m not going in that box.

  He calms down a little. He says when they were down at the alleyway by the police station he wanted James to go in. They didn’t climb up on the railway there, they walked back to City Road. He didn’t know what they were doing, they were just walking. He didn’t know why.