They went back into the Strand through Lunn Poly, pausing to pretend they were big holiday spenders, until Jon pinched a pen off the counter and knocked over a stapler, provoking an assistant to order them out.
Another pen went missing from Rathbones the bakers, just opposite Clinton Cards. The boys were back in the card shop, the assistant watching them carefully this time as they loitered by the trolls, when a middle-aged woman came in.
‘Come on, where’s the pen you took off the lady in Rathbones?’
Bobby tapped his pockets. ‘What pen, I haven’t got a pen.’
The woman said she’d get the police, so Bobby plucked the pen from his pocket and handed it over. The woman told the assistant to watch those two, and the assistant told Jon and Bobby to leave.
Round by the main square they started playing with the fire hydrant door on the pillar, opening and closing it as they shouted and laughed. A four-year-old boy approached and asked what they were doing, but was called away by his elder brother.
Jon said his mouth was dead upset, it was saying it was dying for a drink, so they went into Tesco, where Jon had to empty out his coat to make room for some cartons of yogurt, milkshake and Ambrosia rice. Bobby got some too. Outside, they sat and ate on some scaffolding.
There was a stall in the main square of the Strand, set up as part of a mental health campaign to promote awareness of the effects of tranquillisers and sleeping pills. The stall carried a display of books, leaflets and audio cassettes. It attracted the attention of Jon and Bobby, who picked up a book called Back To Life, about the ways to withdraw from tranquillisers.
The stall was being run by a mother and daughter, who were talking to an elderly woman shopper. When they saw Jon and Bobby, the mother told them to put the book down, that it would be of no interest to them. The boys made a pretend grab at some of the other literature, and the elderly woman told them to get away and stop being so cheeky. You should be in school, she said. Jon and Bobby teased the woman, tapping her on the back and running away as she turned; tap and run, tap and run. When the woman finally struck out, swinging her bag and shouting, they ran off, calling out some abuse which was lost to the woman’s partial deafness.
Bobby wanted to show Jon the talking troll in Toymaster, but when they got to the shop entrance, they were turned away by an assistant who said they couldn’t come in without their parents. The boys waited, and ran in while she was serving, running out again with some tins of Humbrol enamel paint, Azure Blue and Antique Bronze.
They began playing football with a tin on the walkway. The tin cracked against the glass shopfronts, and skidded around the feet of the shoppers. The boys retrieved it when it began to spill paint. The other, the Antique Bronze, rolled into the corner by Tym’s the butchers, where it was found by a man who had cycled to the Strand on his bike. He took the paint home, to repair the chip on his Toby jug.
4
Denise had carried James as she walked from TJ Hughes with Nicola and Vanessa, and crossed into Sayers where they bought a sausage roll each for the two children.
Denise put her son down then, broke the sausage roll in half to make it manageable, and handed it back to James, who ate it as he walked in front of Denise through the centre.
In Marks and Spencer, James and Vanessa were given a ride round in a shopping trolley, while Nicola bought a few bits of food. Outside Marks, down the slope, James ran off ahead, and an elderly woman had to stop him clambering alone on to the escalator.
Denise took hold of James, only letting go when they were inside ethel austin, the children’s clothing shop, where James was immediately struck by one of the baby suits being thrown down by an assistant standing on a chair. James began laughing and throwing the suits around the shop, and Denise marched him outside, waiting for Nicola and Vanessa.
James started walking around again, but Denise did not like the look of the scruffily dressed man who was sitting on a bench watching him. She held James’s hand as Nicola and Vanessa came out of ethel austins, and they all went across to Tesco.
Now James was on the move, kicking an empty box around, helping himself to some Smarties and a carton of apple juice, and generally malting mischief. Denise became self-conscious, thinking everyone must be watching them, and they left after Nicola had bought some sugar.
James was told off and given a smack on the legs. Nicola went into Superdrug to buy some sweets for Vanessa. This time, Denise stayed outside. Then they turned the corner towards Tym’s the butchers. Camera 10 recorded them there at 15.37.51.
A. R Tym’s is a popular butchers, which regularly displays luminous orange signs offering the day’s bargains: Natural Roast Lamb 69 qtr; Nat Honey Roast Ham 69 qtr; Danish Top Quality Bacon Ribs 99 lb; 4 Saus Rolls £1–00; We Do Traditional Cooked Meats For Your Special Occasions.
It was quieter than usual when Denise and Nicola went in, which was just as well, Denise thought, since James was playing up. She got her money out of her purse, ready to pay for the meat. Nicola, who was holding Vanessa, looked round and saw James at the entrance playing with the butt of a cigarette which was still alight. She turned to the counter to be served as Denise paid up and went out. Then Denise was back in the shop, panicking. 'Where’s James?’
‘He’s only just outside,’ said Nicola.
5
Jon and Bobby had finished their skirmishes with the tins of paint. They were outside TJ Hughes, next to the sweet barrow, which was closed, and which they had been eyeing with a view to robbing some sweets. They were facing AR Tym’s.
They saw a little boy in a blue anorak outside the butchers. James was still eating his Smarties. It was Jon’s idea to approach him.
‘Come on, baby.’
James followed, and Jon took his hand as they walked back towards TJ Hughes. A woman who had just finished work in a shoe shop noticed them as she passed. She smiled at James because he reminded her of a nephew.
They went into TJ Hughes and walked through the store, then up the stairs. Leaving the store, they turned left into the walkway by Sayers that led to the main square. A woman who was sitting in Sayers, having a quiet drink while she waited for her bus, looked up and thought her grandson was walking past. A little boy with blond hair, skipping as he went along. The woman realised it wasn’t her grandson, and wondered momentarily why the little boy was on his own. She was reassured when he was joined by two older boys who seemed to call the child. He skipped to join them.
‘Come on, baby.’
Bobby was walking just in front of Jon, who was holding James’s hand as they made their way past Mothercare towards Marks and Spencer and the entrance to the Strand. Camera 8: 15.42.32.
6
‘He’s only just outside,’ said Nicola.
Denise went back out, while Nicola finished being served. Denise came back.
‘I can’t find him outside.’
She went back to the door, as one of the shop assistants realised something was happening.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘The little boy’s gone missing from outside.’
The shop assistant told her to go to security and report it. Denise didn’t know where security was. The shop assistant told her. Round to the right, on the far side, by the back entrance.
Denise and Nicola ran out, heading for security. They looked into a couple of shops, Superdrug and a stationers, asking around as they went. ‘Has anybody seen a little boy?’
It was about quarter to four when Denise reached the security office with Nicola and Vanessa. She was very upset now, as she spoke to the guard on duty in the control room. James was the day’s first reported missing child. They were common enough to be unremarkable, and were almost always found within 15 to 20 minutes. Friday had been a quiet day all round, at the Strand. The fire alarm activated at Dixons at half past one had turned out to be the staff making toast for lunch.
The guard took a description of James and where he had last been seen, then relayed the details by tanno
y throughout the precinct. Denise and Nicola went off to search and came back about five minutes later, asking the guard to repeat the tannoy message. He had been looking through the security cameras but had seen nothing. He repeated the tannoy message as Denise and Nicola went off again.
The guard received a phone call from TJ Hughes. Denise was there. Had the child been found yet? No. The guard passed on James’s description for the store’s own internal tannoy system.
Denise returned to the office shortly before a quarter past four, with an in-store security officer from TJ Hughes. Any news? No. The Strand’s guard then phoned Marsh Lane Police Station, around the corner, to report a missing child, and made his own entry in the Strands Site Book: ‘16.15: Child missing on Precinct approx. 30 minutes. Police informed and given description. Police will attend a.s.a.p.’
7
James was carried the first few yards along Stanley Road, away from the Strand. It was a clumsy hold, like a bear hug, with James clasped to his carriers chest. A taxi driver saw this, and laughed at the older boys inexperience with children. When James was put down again, on the pavement between the Post Office and the bridge over the canal, he began crying.
‘Are you all right? You were told not to run,’ one of the boys said, loud enough for passeis-by to hear.
‘I want my mum,’ said James.
They turned off Stanley Road, past the railings, and down the slope towards the canal tow-path. Jon was holding James’s hand, with Bobby beside them. A woman came out of the Post Office, where she had just paid her mother’s telephone bill. She saw the three boys, and thought they seemed in a hurry. She watched as James wandered ahead, and was ushered back. She thought James looked confused, and that the two boys were too young to be in charge of a child. They must be brothers, or relatives, she told herself.
Down by the canal, Jon and Bobby went under the bridge and sat James on the guard rail that separated the tow-path from the water. They talked about pushing him into the canal. Then one of them picked James up, and dropped him to the ground head first. His forehead was grazed and he began crying.
Jon and Bobby ran back up the slope, leaving James by the canal crying. A woman walking over the bridge towards the Strand heard his distress and looked down. She saw James standing there crying, and presumed he must be with the other children, a group of three or four, whom she saw further along the tow-path. Kids were always playing there.
When Jon and Bobby went back for James he was already walking up the path towards them. ‘Come on, baby.’ They put up the hood of his anorak, to conceal the cut on his forehead. One of them carried him across Stanley Road at the pedestrian crossing, and put him down again on the other side. A passer-by noticed them and, despite the hood, she saw the mark on James’s forehead. She thought James seemed distressed, though he was no longer crying. She walked on, slightly uneasy, then decided to go back for another look. The three boys had disappeared.
They had turned off the main road, down Park Street, past the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ hall. They turned right at the bottom, and left again at the Jawbone Tavern. They walked through the car park of a block of flats, lifted James over a wall, and emerged on to Merton Road through the grounds of an architect’s office. Jon and Bobby were now on the route they had taken earlier to the Strand, heading back to Walton.
The 67a double-decker bus to Bootle was waiting at the Breeze Hill roundabout as Jon and Bobby crossed there, by Smiley’s Tyre and Exhaust Centre. A woman sitting downstairs, at the front of the bus, looked over to her right. She saw Christchurch on the corner, and noticed its sign, ‘You don’t have to be on your knees to pray. She saw two boys holding a child between them, swinging him by the hands as they walked. She noticed one of the boys lose his grip just as the bus pulled away, obscuring her view.
Jon and Bobby did not turn directly on to Breeze Hill, but took the left fork at the roundabout, up Oxford Road. It took them past the offices of AMEC Building, a construction firm which had a security camera trained on its car park, facing the road.
Three young women, teenagers, were walking up from Bootle, behind the three boys. A driver from a local dry cleaning company noticed them as he passed in his van. He saw their short skirts and black tights and thought they looked fit. As he glanced round the driver caught sight of Jon and Bobby, pulling at James’s arms, as if trying to make him move. James looked red-faced and puffy, and the driver could see he was crying. He watched as Bobby gave James a persuasive kick in the ribs. The driver muttered to himself in disgust. ‘You’re going to be a scally.’
The young women did not see this, but one of them did watch Jon and Bobby walking ahead, holding James between them by his hands.
The other two teenagers barely noticed the boys; their attention was diverted by a lad they knew from school who was cycling past on his racer, head down, speeding up the incline of Oxford Road. He cycled straight into the back of a Nissan hatchback that was parked there. The two young women who had been watching him laughed, and laughed even louder when they realised their friend had missed the collision. She had been too busy watching the three boys.
The cyclist saw the three women as he got up and dusted himself down. He saw Jon and Bobby, but did not see James. Jon saw the three teenagers laughing. Bobby had seen the cyclist hit the car.
They led James from Oxford Road through to Breeze Hill, and idled there at the railings by the bus stop. It seemed to the woman driving past with her husband in a Ford Orion that they were playing a game; Bobby at the railings, and Jon back down the hill, apparently chasing James towards Bobby. The hood of James’s anorak was still covering his head.
James began crying as they crossed Breeze Hill by the Mons at the junction with Southport Road.
‘I want my mum.’ Crying. ‘I want my mum… I want my mum.’
He ran forward, and a driver who was stopped at the lights thought he was going to walk into the road. Then Bobby stepped forward and picked James up, turning him away from the road. The driver saw that James was crying, and presumed he was upset at not being allowed to run free.
Jon and Bobby were both holding James by the hand as they crossed the central reservation, watched by a motorist on his way to a plumbing job in Orrell. He could see James was crying, and thought it odd that he did not have adult supervision.
They left the road at the reservoir, climbing up the big stone steps, the two boys carrying the child, Jon holding James’s legs, Bobby with his arms around James’s chest. When they reached the top of the reservoir, long ago a water repository but now a grassy plateau, Jon and Bobby sat on the last step, with James between them.
When a woman who had been walking her dog on the hill manoeuvred around them and onto the steps, James was laughing. As she climbed down, the boys stood and made their way to the far embankment, overlooking a row of houses.
James was punched here, by Jon, as the light began to fade. A woman closing her curtains in one of the houses below looked up to see Jon gripping James by his shoulders, close to his neck, and shaking him briskly, as if trying to quieten him down. A neighbour saw Jon and Bobby holding James’s hands; they appeared to be helping him up the incline. She watched as an elderly woman walking her large black dog, regulars on the reservoir, approached them.
The elderly woman was immediately concerned because James was sobbing.
What’s going on?’
We just found him at the bottom of the hill.’
She saw then that James had two bumps, one on his forehead, and one on top of his head.
‘Do you know him?’
‘No,’ said the boys.
The woman told them that James’s injuries needed attention, and they asked her the way to the police station. She directed them to the station at Walton Lane.
The neighbour who had been peering from her window watched as the elderly woman gesticulated, and guessed that the child was lost. She was surprised when the boys seemed to walk off in the opposite direction to the way the woman h
ad indicated, and thought the woman must be uneasy when she turned back to the boys, apparently shouting after them.
The elderly woman was indeed uneasy, though somewhat reassured when she saw and spoke to a friend who was also out strolling that afternoon. This was the woman who earlier had seen James laughing with Jon and Bobby on the steps. The woman told her elderly friend that James had been all right when she saw him. She had imagined the boys must all be brothers.
8
Ser. No. 925B02VRec. Tel. by 3642 at 1621 12/02/93 Class 86,91.
Message — we have a 3 yr old male — James Patrick Boulger who has been missing on the New Strand for 30 mins — area searched scanned with cameras — no trace location — mother now at reception New Strand, Washington Parade, Bootle.
Informant — Strand Security 944 2222.
Remarks — announcements have been made over tannoy system without response.
Action—1622 by 3642 B02V — Resource sent, BM11.
The B Division command controls computer log chattered in response to the phone call from Peter Beatham, the Strands security guard.
PC Mandy Waller was working a 2–12 shift, patrolling around Bootle in Bravo Mike One One (BM 11), a Fiesta hatchback Panda car, responding to calls from divisional control. She had been on driving duties for only a month, since passing the driving test.
When the job came through on her radio — missing child at the Strand, please deal — Mandy went first to Marsh Lane to pick up a set of MFH forms. ‘Missing child,’ she thought. ‘Oh, send a woman.’
It galled her that the police sometimes made assumptions about women’s work. If they locked somebody up and there was a child involved, Mandy would be called in to look after the child. Mandy had no children of her own, and no maternal instincts to speak of. I don’t mind kids, she would say, I just couldn’t eat a whole one. Some of the lads with kids of their own were better at those jobs than her, she reckoned, and she’d had frank discussions about it with sergeants in the past: why call me, like, ’cause I’m no better at it than anyone else? Mandy was from South Yorkshire, a small village near Barnsley. Working on Merseyside for nine years had not yet blunted her accent.
The Sleep of Reason: The James Bulger Case Page 3
