Kingston Bridge

by Ian Todd

  “Listen, Teddy, believe you me, wance Ah’ve finished wae them, they won’t know whit’s hit them. It also means if we kin destroy their argument this time roond, then they’ll hiv little chance ae being allowed tae come back at a later date wae mair allegations. It also shows Lord Campbell and The Crown that we’ve nothing tae hide. Remember, we’ve nae guarantee that the judge widnae allow their inclusion anyway. Trust me.”

  Whit Howdy hid said probably made sense, even though he wisnae a hunner percent happy wae it.

  “Kin we no at least put up some sort ae challenge?” he’d asked.

  “Ah’ve weighed up the chances ae blocking their inclusion, Teddy, bit it disnae look good. Let’s play them at their ain game and turn it tae oor advantage,” Howdy hid said, as Abraham Silas hid stood there nodding in agreement wae the QC a few days earlier.

  Whit wis bothering him wis the thought ae being challenged by the two bitches sitting at the table in front ae him, sending shivers up that spine ae his. Christ! Howdy hid telt him that he’d probably spend at least a whole day, maybe mair, being cross examined up oan the stand by The Crown Advocate. He recognised wan ae them, Glenda Metcalfe, the nippy wee harridan who’d built her reputation alang in The Sheriff Court in Ingram Street, destroying witnesses, before being demoted doon tae manage the JPs in the district polis courts. He also knew that it hid been that hairy cow that hid goat his reduced charge bumped up tae murder. He wis still feeling faint and couldnae stoap the incessant trembling ae that bottom lip ae his, efter being led up fae the white tiled dungeons below by a talkative turnkey called Big Byron. They’d locked him up in a cell oan his lonesome as a safety precaution, efter him and another twenty-odd shady looking guys wur shat oot the back ae a big, black paddy wagon. The stress and shock ae his situation hid goat the better ae him and he’d broken doon in tears as the turnkey hid been unlocking the hauncuffs in the isolation cell. Insteid ae taking oan board his distress, the talkative, boring basturt, hid gaun intae overdrive and started prattling oan aboot how it hid been him that hid escorted Peter Manuel, seemingly, a cravat wearing midget, straight back doon the wooden steps fae the middle ae the dock tae the cells below, efter Lord Campbell ae Claremyle, the same judge he wis up in front ae, hid solemnly donned the black cap and sentenced him tae hang, back in the late fifties.

  “Maist people think it’s some sort ae black bunnet Lord Campbell wis wearing, bit it wisnae,” Big Byron wis saying as his wrists wur unshackled and he wis able tae wipe away the tears that wur running o’er his quivering lips, as they knees ae his wur buckling fae under him. “Bit, it’s actually jist a wee square bit ae black cloth that ye’d pick up fur a penny any day roond in the Briggait there.”

  The fact that pennies hid gone oot wae decimalisation hidnae seemed tae bother the boring basturt, as he gulped another deep breath doon intae his lungs and carried oan, even efter the cuffs wur aff and that turnkey partner ae his, Boabby, wis wandering aboot the corridors shouting oot his name.

  Although he’d been wan ae Glesga’s finest fur as long as he could remember, he’d never darkened the doors ae The High Court, doon in the Saltmarket. Efter only a few months in the job, he’d been assaulted four times in as many weeks and hid put in fur a transfer tae the safety ae the administration section where his real talents hid flourished. He’d been taken back by the size ae the courtroom. It appeared a lot bigger than whit he wis expecting. Up in the Gods, straight in front ae him, beyond the Defence and Crown prosecution tables, Lord Campbell sat, aw resplendent in a red velvet gown, wae white fur trimmed edges, as if he’d jist arrived fae the House ae Lords itsel. The silver-grey wig oan tap ae his heid, that looked tae be two sizes too wee fur him, clashed wae his red ruddy face and purple lips. Immediately tae his left sat the two rows ae jurors, while tae his right, a packed box full ae reporters kept trying tae eyeball him. When he’d first appeared up through the hole in the flair intae the dock, Glenda Metcalfe hid turned and stared at him intently. Fucking bitch, he’d cursed tae himsel. If it hidnae been fur her and that freckle-faced reporter slut, nowan wid’ve been bloody interested. He’d also wondered where the hell everywan hid come fae. And who hid let that stupid basturt, Elvis the Sani Man in, sitting there nervously fidgeting oan the benches behind him, waiting fur the proceedings tae kick aff?

  “Who ur aw these people?” he’d whispered tae his QC frantically.

  “Don’t worry, Teddy. It’s jist the families ae the witnesses.”

  “Bit the place is packed, so it is.”

  “Aye, it’s maistly The Crown’s. That article in The Glesga Echo last week? Even though ye wurnae mentioned by name, the press hiv cottoned oan tae it, so they hiv.”

  His guts wur churning. He hid a bad feeling aboot whit wis happening. He wondered if they’d let him go back doon the stairs tae dae a shite? When he’d been up in the untried, his QC hid reliably assured him that even if he did go tae trial, it widnae last mair than a day and a hauf. Noo, the basturt hid jist telt him that it wid probably last the whole week, maybe mair.

  “Why?”

  “Wae The Crown introducing the additional witnesses tae prove that ye hid premeditated murder in yer mind the morning yer wife died, it’ll take a bit longer tae get through them,” his QC said, shrugging they Batman covered shoulders ae his.

  “Bit there wis only me and her present.”

  “And as Ah’ve awready telt ye, Teddy, they’re trying tae undermine ye by highlighting yer promiscuous background before you and Lesley goat hitched.”

  “Bit…”

  “Look, Teddy, don’t worry. Ah’m oan tap ae it. Jist dae as Ah instruct ye and we’ll see this through thegither.”

  “Bit…bit, Ah thought that as the client, that wis ma job…tae instruct ma brief like?”

  “It is. If ye’re no happy, ye kin always replace me at any time. Ah mean, Ah’ve goat a lot ae preparation tae dae fur Wan-bob Broon and Charlie Hastie’s trial later in the week, so if ye’re no happy…”

  “Naw, naw,” he panicked. “That’s no whit Ah’m saying. It’s jist…”

  “Whit?”

  “Nothing. Carry oan. Ye’re daeing a grand job, so ye ur,” he mumbled miserably, wanting tae throw up.

  “Would the accused please stand?” Lord Campbell asked him, peering o’er his pince-nez glasses. “Are you forty two year old Edward Bare, residing at number 35 Annette Street, Govanhill, Glasgow?”

  “Er, aye, milord.”

  “You have been charged with the wilful and premeditated murder of your spouse, twenty eight year old Lesley Bare, on the morning of the 24th October, 1975. How do you intend to plead?”

  “Er, n…not guilty, y…yer honour,” he murmured.

  “Pardon?”

  “N…not guilty, yer honour.”

  “For the record, can it be recorded that the accused has plead not guilty, Mr Cockerill?” The Judge asked the clerk ae the court.

  “Yes, milord.”

  “Thank you. Now, Miss Bankhead, without further ado, I’ll hand The Crown’s case over to you, if I may?”

  “Thank you, milord, ladies and gentleman of the jury,” The Crown Advocate announced, as she lay her glasses doon oan tae the table in front ae her and walked towards the jury, stoapping aboot three feet fae the front row. “On behalf of Lesley Bare, a courageous and brave young serving police officer, I’m going to prove that her death wasn’t as a result of a sudden, violent confrontation between her and her husband, Edward ‘Teddy’ Bare, the man sitting in the dock. I’m also going to prove conclusively that the violent confrontation wasn’t as a result of her supposed infidelity with other men, including some of her husband’s colleagues. Despite what the defence counsel will say in his attempt to undermine the serious charge of murder that has been levelled against his client, we on this side, on behalf of the people, have a different story to tell you, the jury. That story will contradict and refute Teddy Bare’s pathetic explanation of how his wife seemingly attacked him, before fatally stumbling backwards an
d bashing her head against the tiled fireplace in the living room of their marital home. Bare’s smooth talking defence counsel will claim that his client was only defending himself from an aggressive and unprovoked attack on him, as he was preparing to get ready to leave for work, on the morning of Friday the 24th of October 1975. Bare’s legal counsel will no doubt also point out the obvious and argue that apart from his client, there could only be one other person in this courtroom who could say for certain what really happened on that tragic morning last October. Poor unfortunate Lesley Bare may not be here to tell her side of the story…but I am. This dedicated policewoman, who bravely worked, sometimes undercover in dangerous situations, for the past three and a half years, tracking down criminals on our behalf, was murdered by the one person in her life who she believed could be trusted. My learned friend, representing Teddy Bare, is going to attempt to paint his client as a dedicated, hard working inspector, in one of the most crime ridden cities of the UK. Don’t be fooled. Teddy Bare is what his colleagues mockingly refer to as a pen-pusher, someone who has sat for most of his career behind a desk. Inspector Teddy Bare wasn’t out there, tracking and chasing down hardened criminals, like his wife was, putting his life on the line so that all of us could lie in our beds safe, in the knowledge that someone like him was out there protecting us. No, that was what Lesley Bare did. How ironic then, that unknown to this dedicated young woman, her life was to be cut short, not by some violent thug on the streets, but at home, by the one person that she should have been able to depend on, her husband, Inspector Teddy Bare. On behalf of Lesley, we, The Crown, will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, through the eyes of witnesses, some of them victims of intimidation and violence themselves, that the man sitting in the dock amongst us, is not only an evil manipulator, but a leading member of a shadowy cohort of serving police officers, who preyed on vulnerable young female recruits, sexually exploiting and assaulting them, before cynically passing them on and between each other to satisfy their lust, stretching back to the early 1960s. My learned friend will encourage you to ask yourselves what other policewomen’s experiences have to do with a domestic dispute between a man and his wife at home, which turned to tragedy. He’ll also point out that the brave men and women of The City of Glasgow Police are not on trial here in The High Court, and he’ll be correct…up to a point. This trial is about seeking justice for Lesley Bare, a serving police officer, but as the evidence will show, the circumstances that lead to her murder are rooted within the police force itself. On the morning that Lesley Bare was brutally murdered by her husband, she had confronted him with a damning document, a statement from a former ex colleague, who claimed that her husband, Teddy Bare, had raped her and played a leading role, along with other male colleagues, in abusing young female recruits over a number of years. You, the jury, will hear Lesley Bare’s voice in this courtroom in the coming days through the mouths of past and present colleagues, all victims at the hands of the perpetrators that include Teddy Bare. Lesley Bare’s journey will be at times harrowing and frustrating. Who within the police force knew what had been going on? What role did management play in protecting young female police officers from the clutches of a group of sexual predators, when the person responsible for the welfare of new recruits in the central, west and north divisions of the city, was none other than Inspector Teddy Bare, head of personnel? No-one on this side wishes to attack our brave men and women in the police force, but the truth needs to be told. Lesley Bare isn’t here to defend herself. Mr Howdy, on behalf of his client, will shamefully attempt to systematically destroy this young woman’s reputation. It will be incumbent upon you all to do what is right on behalf of Lesley Bare, on behalf of all the women in this fine city. It is my job to facilitate the narrative of what happened to a significant number of bright, eager, young female recruits, who perhaps naively believed that they could contribute to society by joining Glasgow City Police, safe in the knowledge that they and their rights would be protected by senior staff within the police force who were at best, indifferent and at worst, criminally negligent. This trial is not only about seeking justice for Lesley Bare, who confronted her husband on behalf of current and past colleagues, but for all women in the workplace, who will be looking to you, the jury, to give them reassurance that it is not alright to bully and sexually harass young women…any women, whatever their age or circumstance, in the workplace or anywhere else for that matter. All I ask is that you listen to the evidence carefully, make your own minds up and deliver the only verdict open to you. Lesley Bare died because she found out that her husband had a terrible secret. Surely Lesley Bare…her past and present colleagues, many of them victims themselves, deserve that. Thank you.”

  “Mr Howdy. Would you like to make your opening statement?” Lord Campbell lisped.

  “Thank you, Milord,” the dapper looking Queen’s Counsel replied, staunin up and walking across tae the silent jurors, who looked visibly uncomfortable, as they shifted in their seats efter the revelations by The Crown’s opening statement, seconds earlier. “Ladies and gentlemen ae the jury. Nowan, including ma client, Lesley Bare’s devoted and now maligned husband, will staun up in this courtroom and deny that his dear wife, Lesley, wisnae a dedicated polis officer. Her polis record speaks fur itsel. Despite whit ma learned colleague his jist asserted, nowan, especially fae this side ae the room, nor fae the witnesses we call up, senior serving polis officers, maist wae commendations fur bravery, will staun up in that witness box and challenge the dedication and bravery ae the deceased. In fact, Inspector Teddy Bare, devoted husband and father tae Teddy Junior, despite his distress, fully admits his guilt in being responsible fur his beloved wife’s untimely death. Ah kin assure ye that Inspector Teddy Bare is well aware that whitever the verdict you, the jury, come tae, he will hiv tae live wae his actions fur the rest ae his life. Despite the cynical and misleading portrayal ae whit his jist been claimed, Ah’d jist like tae remind ye all, that the brave men…and wummin ae Glesga’s finest ur no the wans that ur oan trial here the day. Ma client his been unjustly charged wae murder in relation tae a domestic dispute that unfortunately goat oot ae hand. Fur ma learned friend tae staun here the day and fabricate a negative narrative against a man respected across the community and by his colleagues, totally misrepresents the events leading up tae, during and efter whit took place in the marital home that morning, back in October ae last year. Teddy Bare is a broken man,” he said wae a sweep ae is haun, as the jurors aw looked across at the sobbing defendant. “He wisnae always like that. Despite how ma learned opposite number his painted his sterling career, he his been a victim ae unwarranted violence in the line ae duty, hivving been assaulted a number ae times by vicious thugs, while serving the communities he swore tae protect. He’s also a recipient ae two commendations fur bravery, putting his life oan the line tae save others fae injury or worse. Ma learned friend outrageously referred tae him as a ‘pen pusher,’ making it sound as if it wis something tae be scraped aff the heel ae her expensive, upper middle class shoes. O’er the years, Inspector Teddy Bare his hid the unenviable responsibility ae looking efter over seven hundred uniformed and civilian employees oan behauf ae wan ae the maist dangerous polis forces in the country tae serve in. Through his commitment, countless numbers ae men and women hiv sought and been granted support tae cope wae a difficult and challenging job. By his ain admission and despite his dedication, working within the personnel section ae the force widnae hiv been his first choice. Unfortunately, due tae wan ae the serious assaults inflicted upon him, that left him psychologically scarred, ma client reluctantly took oan the responsibility ae looking efter the welfare ae a significant number ae staff o’er the years, rather than take the easy option ae finding a career elsewhere. Since being asked tae represent him, ma client his challenged me oan a number ae occasions, expressing his concern oan how his beloved dear wife, Lesley Bare, may be portrayed by me, his defence counsel. He his selflessly expressed concern that the memory ae the wummin he loved and
still dis will be damaged. His deep remorse and concern fur his deceased wife’s reputation manifested itsel early oan, in the investigation surrounding her death. Ma client, Teddy Bare, didnae shy away fae accepting full responsibility fur his actions nor feelings ae guilt efter being arrested oan that dark, sad morning ae his wife’s death. He confessed all. He didnae prevaricate or deny his role in the domestic argument that took place between them. Far fae it. His confession and signed statement speaks fur itsel. As his awready been hinted at by ma opposite learned friend, unfounded allegations may be raised that there wis some sort ae conspiracy gaun oan, behind the scenes, by some senior operational colleagues, tae attempt tae influence the charge against ma client, fae being wan ae murder tae a reduced charge ae culpable homicide. As ma learned friend said hersel, jist a few minutes ago, ma client wis nothing bit a ‘pen pusher.’ He didnae hiv much contact wae the operational day tae day business ae his colleagues elsewhere in the city. Why wid serving senior officers, fighting against a tidal wave ae horrendous and violent crimes across the city, try and circumvent a decision made by The Crown Prosecution Service…unless, she’s claiming they wur involved in the conspiracy as well?” he said, staunin aside, his eyebrows lifted at the absurdity ae the question, as he pointed across tae Glenda Metcalfe, who wis sitting furiously scribbling notes oan her pad beside Maureen Bankheid, who sat silently watching him, listening intently. “The fact ae the matter is that, despite ma respect fur Lesley Bare as a polis officer, like a lot ae angels, there wis a darker and mair sinister side tae her that The Crown, and her husband, won’t want you, the jurors, tae hear. In the interests ae fairness and justice, particularly oan behauf ae ma client, it’s ma job tae introduce the facts as we know them so that you, the jury, kin make yer minds up whether ma client, who accepts guilt fur whit happened tae his loving wife, did indeed plan her death or as he claims, accidently push her in the midst ae a violent struggle between them. Lesley Bare wis drawn tae the bright lights ae the city like a moth tae a flame oan a dark night. She wis gregarious and fun loving and alang wae another single female colleague, frequented maist ae the known dance haunts in the city. Anywan looking fur Lesley Bare and her single colleague, Collette James, when they wur aff duty at weekends, wid find them in The Majestic or The Plaza Ballroom. Despite how uncomfortable this may sound, Lesley Bare did hiv affairs…numerous affairs, behind her husband and stepson’s backs. These affairs wur no only wae strangers she met while oot partying, while her loving husband sat at hame, worried aboot her safety, hivving tae carry her tae her bed semi-conscious through intoxication, wondering if her latest conquest involved any ae his male colleagues. Ah’m no here tae condemn Lesley Bare. She wis an adult wae a free will, married tae an aulder husband, who perhaps couldnae satisfy her lust fur life. Of course, there wur arguments and confrontations between them…whit couple disnae hiv spells in their marriage, especially if wan ae them is frequenting the city’s well known fleshpots wae a single friend every other weekend? Teddy Bare admits he confronted his wife oan numerous occasions, bit maist ae the time he kept quiet, despite his wife throwing her infidelity back in his face. The personnel records ae her best friend and colleague, Collette James, will show that she too hid numerous affairs wae senior work colleagues and hid previously received warnings aboot her conduct. Ah’m no gonnae suggest that affairs between staff in the polis force didnae take place. Of course, they did. Collette James wis warned oan a number ae occasions efter aggressively confronting her lovers, who jist happened tae be polis inspectors, fur demanding commitment and marriage proposals. Unfortunately, like Lesley Bare before her, Collette James wanted mair than jist a seedy fling wae a married colleague. Sergeant Collette James demanded commitment fae her aulder lovers and when it wisnae forthcoming, she became abusive towards them…making accusations ae being taking advantage ae. Ah wid ask you, the jury, tae please consider who the real victims ur in the coming days.