by Tom Hoyle
‘He deserved to die,’ said Jason. ‘He was nothing.’
‘No one deserves to die,’ I said. ‘Everyone should be given the chance to become good, even if some people never get there.’
‘That’s the sort of thing I’d expect from someone like you,’ said Jason. ‘I used to think that you were pretending to be perfect, but now I wonder if you are perfect in your own narrow, unimaginative, sickening way.’
I thought this was a completely crazy thing to say (I look at those words now on the screen and they seem even madder) – I told him that I just wanted to be myself, that things just emerged in the way they did without me trying to be one thing or another.
‘George,’ Matt asked. ‘What are we going to do now?’
‘I’m in charge, remember,’ said Jason, his voice rising. ‘You must remember that.’
[Here ends the fourtenth part of George’s statement]
THE OTHER CHAPTER 14
(SAID IN THE HOUR BEFORE):
HIM
WAKE UP, WAKE UP.
GEORGEY, WAKE UP. GEORGEY FLEET.
GEORGEY FLEET.
GEORGE FLEET.
I AM STILL TALKING TO YOU.
I HAVE BEEN TALKING TO YOU, AND YOU’VE HARDLY BEEN LISTENING.
LISTEN TO UNCLE JASON.
Listen to me, Georgey.
Let me sit next to you.
The best bit of all was when I told you Nick was guilty. I had control over you at last. I was pulling your strings – you were my puppet. I was the puppet master.
I AM TRULY THE KING OF THE WORLD.
When this is over, I will be the new George. YOU will be finished. De-Georged.
Then the Matts will think of me; and the Tobys will follow me and talk of me.
How many lives have you saved? Not as many as I have finished.
I win.
How I hate you.
BUT I WANT WHAT YOU HAVE.
You’re just a stinking thief, people like you, stealing from people like me.
Your fancy family and cosy house and girlfriend – girlfriends wanting you to do things to them.
WHY NOT ME?
WHY NOT ME?
WHY NOT ME?
But from now on it will be me.
SAY SORRY BEFORE IT IS ALL OVER.
SORRY FOR THE THINGS YOU ARE GUILTY OF.
Come on.
STAND UP ON YOUR FEET AND SAY SORRY.
A REMINDER OF A MISCARRIAGE OF JUSTICE
A TRUE STORY:
TIMOTHY EVANS’S WIFE AND YOUNG DAUGHTER WERE KILLED IN 1949. EVANS HIMSELF WAS CONVICTED OF THE MURDER OF HIS DAUGHTER AND KILLED BY HANGING IN 1950.
AN OFFICIAL INQUIRY CONDUCTED FIFTEEN YEARS LATER CONCLUDED THAT THE TRUE KILLER OF EVANS’S DAUGHTER HAD BEEN A MAN WHO LIVED IN THE SAME HOUSE AS EVANS, SOMEONE CALLED JOHN CHRISTIE. CHRISTIE WAS ALSO RESPONSIBLE FOR THE DEATH OF EVANS’S WIFE, AS WELL AS HIS OWN WIFE AND SIX OTHER WOMEN.
THE POLICE MADE SERIOUS MISTAKES WHEN SEARCHING THE HOUSE AT RILLINGTON PLACE, MISSING REMAINS OF EARLIER VICTIMS IN THE GARDEN AT THE BACK OF THE PROPERTY. THEY ALSO FORGED CONFESSIONS FROM EVANS.
CHRISTIE WAS THE CHIEF WITNESS AGAINST EVANS AT HIS TRIAL BECAUSE THE POLICE BELIEVED ALL HIS STATEMENTS.
THIS FALSE TESTIMONY WAS VITAL IN BRINGING A GUILTY DECISION AGAINST THE INNOCENT TIMOTHY EVANS.
CHAPTER 15
(THE FINAL HOUR):
THE FIFTEENTH PART OF GEORGE’S STATEMENT
After the death of Nick, we were again faced with tough choices about what to do.
Matt was slowly beginning to calm down and communicate, and all three of us agreed that it would be best to continue towards the sea in the boats, but Jason repeatedly stressed that this was completely his decision, not ours. ‘I’m in charge of things. Not you. I’m the leader,’ he said. As we went down the river, I wondered whether I had made a terrible mistake. Jason was very agitated and aggressive – almost as if he was drunk or on drugs.
For a time, the land around us was flatter, but craggy land gradually appeared again and Jason suggested that we rested. ‘If the great Georgey thinks it’s acceptable, we’ll stop,’ Jason said. He always referred to me as Georgey – never George, not even as ‘you’. I hadn’t noticed it before.
What happened next was terrible. A few seconds after I had stepped out of the boat there was a searing pain to the back and side of my head. I fell to the ground – blotches appeared in front of my eyes and grew into dizziness every time I tried to raise my head. I tried to ask a question, but it came out in a muddled, muttered mess, as if the cords that operated my mouth had been cut. Out of the fog came an understanding that my hands were being tied. I was then kicked three or four times in the side; there was excruciating pain and I felt, and heard, a rib crack.
Still dazed, I could see Matt being thumped repeatedly. Over and over and over again. Twenty or thirty times. Imagine that. I can’t tell you what it was like, watching, unable to do anything. I was just able to get my head off the ground a few inches and croak, ‘Stop!’
Jason paused. ‘This is punishment,’ he said. ‘He should NEVER have followed YOU in that way. He should have followed ME.’ Jason chuckled. ‘Watching this is punishment for YOU.’
Pure evil. Just scratch the surface and there it was lurking below. I’ve been asked about this by one of the psychiatrists helping my lawyer. I don’t know if Jason was confused in some complicated psychological way – all I knew at the time was that he was just a very manipulative, malicious person, masked as someone reliable and trustworthy. You just can’t tell, can you?
Jason tied Matt’s hands behind his limp body and shoved him face-down into a kayak. Jason pushed the kayak out into the river and the current took it.
‘You can’t say that isn’t fair. He stands a chance. I’m too generous. I’m the KING,’ Jason said to me with a smile.
But Matt was probably already dead. As you all know, the kayak was found upturned in the river, his body nowhere to be seen. I don’t believe he suffered after the first two or three knocks to the head.
Of all of them, it’s Matt’s death that makes me wildest with anger. Matt had become one of my best friends in a very short time. Now I was alone.
I knew that I was dealing with someone totally deranged and beyond reason. If only I had Nick with me.
I had been so stupid.
I pleaded with Jason, trying to reason with him, begging him to stop. ‘Jason, please listen to me,’ I said. ‘This can all end OK.’ I was being marched up a hill and then, after that, up a steep slope. ‘Please listen to me.’
‘Shut up! Now it’s MY turn to speak. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll listen. Just you and me. At THE END of the story. You know that this is not a happy ending. No. Not happy FOR YOU at all. But you deserve an unhappy ending. And they all lived unhappily ever after. Because that’s what they DESERVED.’
Jason said crazy things. He told me about a boy he had killed by pushing him in front of traffic and another he killed in a quarry. I remember him telling me about getting caught stealing a chicken, and then getting the job with Ultimate Bushcraft, but lying about his past. I know that all these things are being investigated right now. I certainly haven’t made them up.
I winced with pain as Jason punched my side, hitting my broken rib.
‘You can laugh. You can laugh right now.’
I had no choice but to keep walking – every time I stopped Jason would thump me, words and insults continuing to spill out of his insane mouth.
‘I knew from that first moment that Georgey would be SOFT. Full of wind and puff; mushy like a slug. Glutinous George. Gummy George. Gooey George. Pompous and proud – one hundred per cent full of himself.’
I couldn’t speak from pain and fear. Eventually we reached the top of a hill – a sharp drop in front of us. I was angry and desperate, straining to think of a way to escape. Jason had obviously been looking for this sort of spot and I was terrified as to his logic. It was the first time I
had a chance to understand that I was going to die aged sixteen.
He was eaten up with hatred of me. Then he openly confessed to poisoning Matt on the plane.
‘I did it all to perfection. I went to the toilet and opened up the two packets. It was like a scientific investigation. I crushed up the peanuts very small, little more than dust. I tell you, that was the most exciting bit of all. Then I sprinkled some on to the sweets. Tasty. I’M THE MASTER. I COMMAND LIFE AND DEATH.’
Jason said a million things. Much of it didn’t really make sense, not in the way that things we would say made sense. It was all about how he hated me and wanted to kill me. But at other times he seemed to admire me as well and want to be like me. He resented everything I had done – but I couldn’t make out why. He was wild. Totally mad.
Much of what happened on that hilltop was a blur to me. I was punched and kicked repeatedly.
‘I’ll admit – honesty, more honesty than YOU have, remember – that I was a little bit jealous. And it was then that my hatred began to grow. Like a beanstalk.’
He told me about his family – and how he had suffered. He got madder and madder. What he said became crazier and crazier. I drifted in and out of consciousness.
‘Look at me now. WAKE UP. WAKE UP. IT MAKES ME SO BLOODY ANGRY WHEN YOU DON’T DO WHAT I SAY. Please. Don’t. Make. Me. Do. Something. You’ll. Regret.’
I became aware that Jason was explaining everything that had happened – even details such as the stealing of Reg’s clothes. He said a lot about Zara and me and how he hated that. He was mixed up.
I stared at Jason, praying that he would show pity.
‘Seeing your pathetic eyes now – such sad, stupid eyes – I think that JUSTICE has been served.’
‘There are people who can help you,’ I mumbled.
‘WHAT WAS THAT? Did I hear you say something? GO ON – I dare you to say it again. GO ON – say that right into my ear. I’m listening. WELL?’
I was struggling to think straight. ‘You can stop,’ I muttered. ‘You don’t have to murder me as well.’
‘NO. I am not a murderer. I am no more a murderer than a fisherman or a farmer. I WAS FORCED TO DO THIS BY GEORGEY’S BEHAVIOUR.’
But Jason spat his words back at me. He was open about Luke, his ‘puppet’, and how he had controlled him, forced him to try to kill me, and then turned on him and poisoned him.
‘Luke was good. He wasn’t nearly as stupid as he seemed. But then he started to have doubts – started to feel the stupidest thing in the world: GUILT. Guilt. That pathetic hand that covers your mouth and stops you breathing. Stops you living. He had to be controlled. And control is my business. Isn’t it? You can hardly disagree. Given the pathetic position you’re in. Come on. Let me hear you say that you agree. Let me hear you say it, Georgey. “YOU HAVE CONTROL OVER ME AND I’M HELPLESSLY UNDER YOUR TOTAL POWER.” ’
There were so many words that I cannot remember them all.
‘YOU SEE WHAT YOU ARE DEALING WITH.’
Then Jason started talking about his accomplice.
‘It worries me that you’re so THICK IN THE HEAD that you can’t work out who my assistant is.’
He told me about how he had killed Toby and Reg. He openly confessed. Then he spoke to his accomplice over the walkie-talkie.
‘Can you hear me? Come out, come out wherever you are. Come out, come out wherever you are . . .’
Time was a blur, but it probably didn’t take that long for Peter to arrive. Yes, Peter. I was shocked too. He can’t have been far behind us, maybe only an hour or so.
Then Jason told me that Peter was no longer useful to him – that he was going to become another victim.
‘Greater love hath no man than he who lays down his friend for his life. So you may want to look away when he arrives. Because it’ll be BYE-BYE. And then we’ll be alone at last and I CAN DESTROY YOU AND BE KING.’
When Peter came towards me, he grinned, then kicked me a couple of times – but almost immediately Jason turned on him.
‘Peter Pan, you’ve played your part and now it’s time to EXIT. It’s time for you to fly with the other Lost Boys. I have to be here alone with him – that’s the plan. It’s our destiny. Come this way and you can leave in a civilized manner. No. Don’t try to struggle. DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO STRUGGLE! You’ve done your work and now YOU HAVE TO GO. LET’S GO TO THE EDGE TOGETHER. COME ON. I’ll go over with you if you like. Really, I will. If that’s what it takes.’
Peter was as tall as Jason but had nowhere near the muscle or weight, but he did fight. Peter was edged closer and closer to the drop.
‘GOING, GOING, GONE!’
When this happened, I knew that I would soon follow. Jason seemed to think everything was a joke.
‘How many lives have you saved? Not as many as I have finished. I win. How I hate you. BUT WANT WHAT YOU HAVE. You’re just a stinking thief, people like you, stealing from people like me. Your fancy family and cosy house and girlfriend – girlfriends wanting you to do things to them. WHY NOT ME? WHY NOT ME? WHY NOT ME? But from now on it will be me. SAY SORRY BEFORE IT IS ALL OVER. SORRY FOR THE THINGS YOU ARE GUILTY OF. Come on. STAND UP ON YOUR FEET AND SAY SORRY.’
I had been working on the rope that Jason had tied my hands with throughout the time that he had been talking to me, which was at least an hour – possibly two. It was loose to the point that I was sure I could free my hands if I pulled hard.
‘Get up! It’s time for us to be free of you at last. It’s time for me to take over.’
‘It’s not too late for you to change your mind,’ I mumbled through bloody and split lips. ‘You can get help.’
‘I DON’T NEED HELP. I AM THE NORMAL ONE. YOU ARE THE STRANGE ONE. I AM LIKE EVERYONE ELSE.’
Jason shook me violently, but then whispered in my ear.
‘And I have left a note. An insurance policy. YOU will get the blame for everything.’
EVIDENCE #4
A NOTE LEFT IN THE SECOND HUT, NEXT TO THE SINK, ABOUT EIGHT FEET FROM THE BODY OF ALASTAIR BOYD
‘Georgey, your fingerprints are LITERALLY over everything. And now it’s time for BYE-BYE.’
It was at this moment my hands wriggled free from the rope. It was as much as I could do to restrain myself: the excitement of being free, of having a chance, leapt within me – but it was obvious that a straight fight would be hopeless. I kept my hands close together, the rope wrapped round them so that they appeared tied, and hoped for a chance.
Although I was dehydrated and mildly concussed, had two broken ribs and a fractured lower left arm as a consequence of the beating, my willpower was intense as Jason bundled me towards the drop.
I had advantages: one was surprise; and it’s amazing what you can do when desperation roars inside you. I also had anger to avenge what had happened. I think I had a sense that justice wasn’t mine to hand out, but I was driven by what had happened to Matt and felt that there was still, perhaps, some hope of saving him.
Jason shoved me to within about half a pace of the edge and put his mouth to my ear.
‘THIS WAS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU CAUSED THIS.’
He was standing alongside me, talking all the time. A stream of nonsense.
There was no dramatic fight at the edge of the drop. I simply, quickly, slid my right arm behind Jason’s back and gave him one huge heave forward.
This move was a complete surprise to him. But – I will be honest – the strange thing is that he didn’t punch me or grab me. Maybe he thought I wasn’t capable of trying to kill him. Maybe he was weakened too. Maybe I was lucky. Maybe, just maybe, he let it happen. In any case, he resisted for a couple of seconds, half turning, his feet eventually sliding over the edge. For an instant we were staring into each other’s eyes. Then he slipped over the edge.
I almost went with him, teetering there, nearly tipping over, waving my arms to regain my balance.
The initial drop wasn’t quite sheer: there were still some rocks jutting out and Ja
son caught his right foot on one of these, and managed to grab hold of some tufts of yellowed weeds that were by my feet. Then his foot slipped and his left hand grabbed hold of loose rocks and dry dirt.
All I had to do was kick his right hand and he would fall.
‘HELP ME. YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE THE HERO. YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE PERFECT. Now you need to prove that you are perfect.’
He did not say I saved you, now you should do the same. He said, ‘Now you need to prove that you are perfect.’ It was the calmest thing he had said for hours.
I wanted to do the right thing. But what was right?
And there I have to end. I have been advised by my lawyer to say nothing.
If I kicked away Jason’s hand, I would be admitting manslaughter at least – I would have a chance of total acquittal, of course, but it would affect the court’s understanding of the other deaths I may yet stand trial for.
I have been advised to say that Jason slipped straight over the edge – an accident. But that would be a lie.
Perhaps he threatened the girls’ group and I let him drop from my clasp.
Perhaps I reached down and tried to pull him up. Perhaps he looked me in the eye and smiled and then pulled his hand away from mine, letting himself fall. But I have been advised that no one would believe that: it would make me a less credible witness. Therefore – and this is an important legal statement – I am not saying that happened.
Perhaps I can’t remember what I did, and sometimes I wish I had done one thing, and sometimes another.
But it is true that Jason said, ‘Georgey!’ and then screamed, before hitting the rocks at the bottom.
I wonder what went through his mind as he fell. Perhaps he was sorry? Maybe he was so full of hate that he was evil until the very end?
I have to be honest: given what he did, I’m not sorry that Jason died.
I didn’t look at the two bodies at the bottom of the cliff. I stumbled a few yards and collapsed.