One of Your Own

by Carol Ann Lee

  If Myra thought her position could not get any worse, she was mistaken. On 23 June 1985, Fred Harrison broke the story that Ian had confessed to the murders of Pauline Reade and Keith Bennett. Myra was so distraught that she ended up in prison hospital, swallowing tranquillisers and rejecting food. Her solicitor, Michael Fisher, promised to take her case to the European Court of Human Rights, but she saw little reason to be optimistic. Detective Chief Superintendent Peter Topping, head of Greater Manchester CID, visited Ian in Gartree. Originally from Gorton, he had been a uniformed policeman in the mid 1960s and had called on Pauline’s mother during the months before the Moors trial. After his promotion to head of the CID in early 1985, Topping’s thoughts turned to the unsolved murders and that summer he and two other senior detectives attempted to interview Ian but found him in no fit state to speak to anyone.

  Fuming and panicked by the stories unfurling in the press almost daily, Myra wrote to her mother: ‘Mrs “pain in the neck” West got back on her bandwagon and threatened to dig up the moor herself . . .’38 Ian had achieved his aim of being transferred from prison to hospital; diagnosed with acute paranoia and schizophrenia, he was moved to a high-security psychiatric unit, Liverpool’s Park Lane. His mother, with whom he had always corresponded, travelled from her flat in Manchester to see him for the first time in many years. She recalled: ‘It was lovely to be with him and actually talk face to face again after so long. It was a visit I had been longing for and one I shall remember for a long time.’39 Two young women also visited him: one was a student at Edinburgh University who wrote to him about literature and philosophy; the other was Christine Hart, who went on to write a book about her mistaken obsession that he was her real father. She painted a strange, vivid picture of a disturbed but quietly spoken man in black sweater and jeans, wearing dark glasses and Hai Karate aftershave, his breath smelling of mints and tea. Among his many other correspondents was author Colin Wilson, to whom Ian sent a tape of extracts from his favourite films, including A Christmas Carol and Carousel.

  Perhaps inevitably, David Astor and the Revd Peter Timms encouraged Myra to consider writing her autobiography. In November, they approached a woman they felt might be a suitable co-author, but Myra decided to tackle the task herself and a literary agent was found. She advised Myra to read Jan Morris’s books for tips on style. A sum of £100,000 was mooted; her agent suggested 70 per cent should go to charity, with the remaining 30 per cent to be divided between Myra’s mother and her brother-in-law (to be held in trust for her niece). The NSPCC was Myra’s first choice for the funds, but she was advised against it and went instead for the National Council for Civil Liberties. The Home Office granted her permission to begin work on the book, which she delivered in instalments to David Astor.

  In early 1986, Ann West announced that she had written to Ian, suggesting they meet. She hoped to convince him to tell the full truth about the murders and to reveal the gravesites of the missing victims, but the idea was vetoed by the authorities. To another correspondent, Ian admitted that he hadn’t read Ann’s letter, nor one he had recently received from Winnie Johnson: ‘Re: letters from Mrs West and the mother of Keith Bennett. Although I have been given them I have not been able to bring myself to read them. I have been afraid to read them . . . I have to keep mental blocks tightly shut . . . I can’t say how it would have worked out if the meeting had taken place. Remorse for my part in this and other matters is axiomatic, painfully deep.’40 But in April he wrote to Ann, telling her that he would never seek parole and hoped to assure her personally ‘of the remorse I feel, but I prefer actions to words. I have spent the last 18 years doing Braille work. I know I can’t balance the past, of course, but at least I can do something positive and useful.’41 To Winnie Johnson, Ian wrote not a word.

  Winnie had also written to Myra. Renowned journalist Ian Smith had helped her to compose the letter, in which she implored: ‘Please, I beg of you, tell me what happened to Keith. My heart tells me you know and I am on bended knees begging you to end this torture and finally put my mind at rest . . . Please, Miss Hindley, help me.’42 A memo from staff at Cookham Wood describes Myra’s reaction: ‘She became extremely upset and tearful whilst reading it and it took a very long time for her to compose herself sufficiently to talk (this is most unusual as Myra is normally very controlled).’43 But the memo also discloses that despite her tears, Myra declared: ‘I wish I did know something – I could at least then put the poor woman out of her misery.’44 On 3 November, she wrote to the Revd Peter Timms about the letter, declaring that she had nothing to hide nor harboured ‘any guilty secrets’ and wondered whether she should ask her solicitor to reply on her behalf. She asked Timms to visit not for her sake ‘but for the sake of this poor, demented woman. The awful tragedy is that I cannot help her in any way – if I could, I would, I swear this as God is my judge. I’d even be willing to contact the police and ask them to take me to those awful moors [but] those moors are so vast, I wouldn’t know where to start or even what I was looking for . . .’45 Timms felt that it was in Myra’s best interests not to reply: ‘Yes, I tried to persuade Myra not to answer her. Then Winnie wanted to meet her, and out of good motives Myra wanted to do that too, but I said no. Myra still had that bit of belief that people would be all right with her.’46

  On 17 November, Timms visited Myra and, while they were discussing Winnie’s letter, Myra received another visitor: Peter Topping. Unbeknown to anyone but Topping and his team, the preliminary stage of the moor search – basically one man and his well-trained dog – had already begun. Topping approached the investigation working on the premise that all the victims had been killed elsewhere and then driven to the moor for burial, making it likely that the graves would lie within a couple of hundred yards of the road. Topping had already pinpointed two areas to search: Hollin Brown Knoll, because it was the logical place to look, and Hoe Grain (two miles from the Knoll), for reasons which have never publicly been disclosed, leading to speculation that Topping settled on the second location because of the ‘W/H’ on Ian’s disposal plan following the murder of Edward Evans. Ian and Myra both insisted it referred to Woodhead, but police suspected it might mean Wessenden Head, the area in which Hoe Grain lay.47 Myra agreed to talk to Topping, but only with Timms present. Topping asked if she would be willing to look at maps and photographs, and Myra agreed, drawn to his quiet approach and his Gorton background.

  Topping recalls: ‘Hindley listened very intently to everything I said. Her face was pale and she chain-smoked. She paused and thought deeply before she spoke, obviously evaluating everything she said in her well-spoken, very precise and meticulous way . . . If anything was to come out of our meeting, it would be only when she believed it was in her interest.’48 On 18 November, Topping returned to Cookham Wood, armed with maps and photos. He felt that she showed particular interest in photographs believed to be of Hollin Brown Knoll and Shiny Brook, the stream at Wessenden Head. Through Michael Fisher, Myra issued an adroitly worded statement that she had agreed to help Manchester Police search the moor for further victims and had ‘identified from photographs and maps places that I know were of particular interest to Ian Brady, some of which I visited with him . . .’49 Ian immediately contacted the press about the letters he and Myra had exchanged during their first years in prison, which he hinted would prove her guilt. On 20 November, while Topping’s team began searching the rain-lashed moor in earnest, David Astor wrote to Myra that he, Timms and Longford had discussed her case and ‘we all agree that your problems are not with the Law – but with public opinion’.50 He suggested that Timms should act as her spokesperson.

  Not having yet received a reply, Winnie wrote again to Myra, requesting a meeting, but Timms and Fisher advised Myra against it. Myra invited Topping to visit her again but told him that she would require Timms’ support before, during and after any formal statement she might make. No one knew then that she had already confessed to Timms, who had promised not to break her confidence
. Some months earlier, Timms had qualified as a Methodist minister and was a trained therapist. He counselled Myra once a week at Longford’s request, in the office of Cookham Wood’s Roman Catholic priest: ‘She went through what I’d call the sheer routine practicalities of what happened. But I was more interested in why and I knew eventually that would come if I was patient. She told me about how Brady threatened to put her in the grave with Pauline and so on and that was very difficult for her to articulate. There was something psycho-sexual about what had happened, but there was an element in Myra that couldn’t admit it – that’s what I hoped to unlock. Unfortunately our sessions ended too soon, when another priest took over and the Home Office refused to let us continue. But she was talking to me long before she spoke to Topping.’51 Ian was also approached by Topping again, but, although his psychological state had improved vastly since their last meeting, he refused to help.52

  Home Secretary Douglas Hurd granted Topping permission to take Myra back to the moor if necessary; the media had already speculated about a visit, and a clear photo of Myra on the moor was reputed to be worth as much as £20,000. But Myra was given no warning about the visit until she was woken on the morning of 16 December and driven to Kent police headquarters in Maidstone, where she boarded a waiting helicopter with her solicitor Michael Fisher and two police officers. The 250-mile flight took Myra back to the landscape she hadn’t seen for over 20 years. They touched down on the violet-hued, snow-dusted moor shortly after half past eight. Dressed almost identically to everyone else, in balaclava and donkey jacket, she was given sandwiches and a hot drink before being driven down to the Water Board track at Shiny Brook. MP David Mellor had leaked the news of her visit on Radio 4’s Today programme and so the route Myra had to take as a result of his security lapse was unfamiliar to her; the track had been built after she and Ian were arrested. She told Topping, who was with her then, that she was unable to get her bearings. After lunch they approached from the lay-by, as Myra had suggested, following the deep banks of Hoe Grain valley towards Shiny Brook. The media were slowly edging their way across the moor and circling above in hired helicopters, which filled the skies with an insistent drone. Fisher recalled: ‘She was confused and frightened. She was particularly worried about the helicopters overhead. She was asking, “Who are they?” . . . At one point about six helicopters were hovering above and she broke down in tears.’53 Myra pointed out a couple of spots that she said might be worth investigating and mentioned a plateau but struggled to say more. They drove on to Hollin Brown Knoll, but any progress was stifled by her unwillingness to admit that she knew where the graves of John and Lesley had been. At three o’clock she was airlifted from the moor and arrived at Cookham Wood after seven, driven through a media cordon.54

  The press were venomous in their condemnation of Topping’s search of the moor, but for the most part he managed to ignore them.55 On 27 January 1987, he visited Myra again with Detective Inspector Geoff Knupfer. In the presence of her solicitor, Myra told him that David Smith was not involved in the murder of Pauline Reade, that none of the killings had been committed in her house on Bannock Street and that the police should focus on searching Shiny Brook and Hollin Brown Knoll. Myra’s advisors held an emergency meeting to discuss whether she should make a full confession to the police. Together with solicitor Lord Goodman, they decided it was in her best interests to do so. Fisher defended Myra to the press in acutely contentious terms: ‘The heroine in this story is my client. She has been very, very brave.’56 There was an unsubstantiated rumour that he leaked the news of the meeting with Lord Goodman to the press, giving Astor and Timms the incentive they needed to convince Myra to ditch him, although she did so reluctantly. Topping arranged for Timms to resume his counselling sessions with Myra.

  On 5 February, Myra sent a curious letter to Astor in which she wrote: ‘I seem to have unwittingly put myself into a dilemma, having told Mr Topping and Mike [Fisher] what I hoped to do, but thinking about it, I still intend to do the right thing, the only thing I can do, but from a different angle. And no doubt with the help and advice from a more objective solicitor, everything will be resolved with satisfaction all round, so to speak.’57 She then mentioned her autobiography, writing that as far as its content was concerned, ‘the only drawback is that it will be read, both here and at P4 at the Home Office, which means the things I want to tell the police, things they have to know to clear this case up, will be known to prison officials first’.58 Astor immediately wrote to Timms, questioning the meaning behind her words, which seem to indicate that she may have been prepared to make a much fuller and franker confession than the one she gave to Topping a couple of weeks later. What might have prevented her from doing so isn’t clear.

  Nonetheless, on 19 February 1987, with Timms at her side, Myra admitted to Topping and Knupfer that she had helped Ian to kill Keith Bennett and Pauline Reade. Her confession was made without caution but was recorded. Topping recalls, ‘She spoke very intensely, very emotionally, and was occasionally very distressed. Peter Timms comforted her often, holding her hand and encouraging her. At times the medical staff brought her doses of medicine.’59 After the weekend, which Myra spent heavily sedated, she spoke to the detectives again on Monday and Tuesday, giving them her life story as well as more information about the murders. She cried copiously and swallowed tranquillisers, particularly when discussing the killings of Lesley and Pauline. She quoted often from the speech given in 1967 by William Mars-Jones to the Medico-Legal Society in which he declared she had been an ordinary girl prior to the relationship with Ian. Knupfer shared his view: ‘Had she not met Ian Brady and fallen in love with him, she would have fallen in love and got married and had a family and been like any other member of the public.’60 He felt that she was ‘absolutely besotted by this man. I guess like many other women I’ve met in the course of my career, they do all sorts of things for the love and respect of their partner.’61 Topping was less impressed: ‘Whilst I accepted these points, her reference to this document made me realise that her confession was being carefully controlled.’62 When he asked her if photographs were used as grave-markers, she said no, even though she admitted in her autobiography that ‘photographs and not headstones’ would record their victims’ graves.63 She emphatically denied any knowledge of other murders and ended her confession: ‘I just hope to God that the case can be concluded and finally laid to rest, and I just hope that some day, in some way, I can be forgiven for making those families wait 22 years.’64

  When Topping mulled over her confession, he felt that she truly wanted to help but was at pains to make her behaviour understandable: ‘She showed tremendous emotion at times, very deep emotion – but it was coupled with complete control.’65 He couldn’t forget the starkly objective phrase she had used after telling them about Pauline’s death: ‘Well, that, as far as I remember, concludes the first murder, which was Pauline Reade.’66 Ultimately, Topping felt he had witnessed ‘a great performance rather than a genuine confession’.67

  Afterwards, Myra returned to her cell, but called Timms to say that she was ready to go on the record. ‘I said, “Myra, please don’t. Give yourself time to reflect and think before doing that,”’ he remembers. ‘But she said, “No, I should have done this 20 years ago.” Not that I didn’t want her to do it – that was up to her. I rang Peter Topping that evening. And then we started all over again for another two days. This time under caution . . . Topping, of course, took those tapes and wrote his book.’68

  The Home Office ended Timms’ counselling sessions in the aftermath of her confession. Timms lobbied furiously against the decision, but memos and letters from the prison authorities show that they regarded him as a nuisance in his doggedness about the counselling he was promised. Myra also complained about the loss of their meetings, writing to the Home Office that she was ‘burdened with the aftermath’ of her confession. The letter had no effect, except possibly to perplex its recipient with the line: ‘I believe suicide to be
a mortal sin, and one that cannot be forgiven, unlike the mortal sins I recently confessed to and received absolution from.’69

  Ian was clearly agitated when Topping visited him with the news that Myra had confessed. But he was lucid and polite, and said that he was willing to do the same provided he was given the means to kill himself afterwards, which he knew was out of the question.

  On 23 March, Myra returned to the moor again, travelling by car in an unmarked convoy and evading the press. She spent the night at a flat in Sedgely Park Greater Manchester Police Training School before being taken, in the pre-dawn darkness, to the chill moor, where Topping had arranged for her to visit Hoe Grain first. She seemed keen to concentrate on the area he’d suggested, then after lunch travelled the two miles to Hollin Brown Knoll, where the mist clung to the crags above the reservoir. She told Topping that he was looking in the right places, but other than that had little to add – except to say that she and Ian had buried a metal box of some significance on the moor. She wouldn’t say what it contained and police were unable to find it.

  On 15 April, Myra wrote to inform the authorities that she didn’t want to be considered for parole in 1990 and was focusing on her autobiography: ‘I hope that in some way what I am able to relate will enable a wiser understanding of the awful complexities surrounding the abuse of children . . .’70 The news of her confession broke in the press that month, causing another media storm. Winnie Johnson wrote again to Myra, who responded, thanking her for the letters and stating that if she had only written to her 14 years before (when Myra ended her relationship with Ian), she would have tried to help them then. The possibility of a trial was raised by the victims’ families and Myra said she was willing to stand, but Topping informed her that it wouldn’t be necessary. Her friends and family were stunned by the news. Sara Trevelyan recalls: ‘I felt very confused. I’d really put myself on the line to support her and that whole ’70s thing, I instigated a lot of that, and got these people involved, a solicitor and so on, working on her behalf. In a sense I felt very betrayed by her and I didn’t feel that we were able to resolve that. It didn’t stop me supporting her, but our contact became pretty infrequent. I would always want to acknowledge her and wish her well. But it was never properly repaired.’71