by John Askill
The parents finally left the station an hour later, feeling reassured. The Detective Chief Inspector had promised frequent progress reports, and said: ‘Even if there is nothing to report the parents will be told.’
Mrs Gibson told reporters: ‘We made our point, and the police appreciated that. I am sure we shall now see some light.’
They only had to wait eight more days.
Supt Clifton had arranged to meet officials of the DPP and medical experts in Nottingham on 20 November to discuss the next move; a decision would then be taken whether or not to charge Nurse Allitt.
The meeting was scheduled to last two days but they didn’t need that long. By the afternoon of the first day everybody agreed there was only one course of action to take.
Supt Clifton, who had had that gut feeling from the beginning, and who had refused to walk away when the investigation had seemed hopeless, was told: ‘You can charge her.’ Allitt could be charged with the murder of all four children. He could also charge her with attempting to kill the eight who had survived, and also assaulting them, causing grievous bodily harm with intent.
He decided not to waste a minute; he had waited a long time for this day, and so had the families of the twelve children.
Allitt, on police bail since her first visit to Grantham police station, had spent what was to be her last day of freedom answering the phone, relaying messages and packing Christmas hampers at the wine warehouse where her father worked at Corby Glen.
Managing director, Jeremy Marshall-Roberts, knew about the allegations and had even had the police at his door asking questions. During the weeks of speculation he had asked Allitt about the case, and been told: ‘I didn’t do it …’ But Mr Marshall-Roberts knew that Allitt realised that, even if she could prove her innocence, she would never be allowed to nurse children again. In his mind Jeremy Marshall-Roberts felt the police had made an awful mistake.
Allitt was at home 250 yards away when her solicitor, Mr John Kendall, broke the news. Mr Kendall was a well-known figure in Grantham, an articulate man with a ready smile and a firm handshake.
He was no stranger to Stuart Clifton. The two men had known each other for five years, opposing one another across the courtrooms of Lincolnshire. In one murder case, handled by Supt Clifton, Kendall had defended a man accused of battering his father to death – and had won the day. On other occasions he had lost, but there was no animosity between the two professionals, simply mutual respect.
Now he found himself on opposite sides again to the detective superintendent. He had already amassed a huge file of information about the events on Ward Four, and had even gone so far as to advise his client to read The Death Shift, the book telling the story of Nurse Genene Jones’s conviction for murdering a child. There were similarities between the two cases, and Mr Kendall had been conscious that Allitt should study the book.
He had known that the conference on that November Wednesday was likely to produce a decision, but he had expected that it would be days, or even weeks, before he heard the outcome. However, by 8pm of that same night, Supt Clifton was on the phone to his home asking if he would deliver Allitt to the police station to be charged.
Supt Clifton and colleague Detective Inspector Neil Jones went to Grantham to await her arrival.
News of the impending charges came as a heart-rending blow to her family. The realisation of what was to come began to sink in as Allitt prepared to leave for the police station. She could take no personal possessions with her, no change of clothes, no favourite book or tape. Mr Kendall knew from experience that it was better if Allitt ‘went into the system clean’.
It was Neil Jones, the officer who had tracked down the children’s blood samples, who was given the job of charging her.
Detectives who had spent more than six months investigating the events on Ward Four thought that now Allitt would betray some emotion, perhaps shed a tear or scream in frustration.
But she showed no concern as Mr Jones read out the charges, one by one. With solicitor Mr Kendall at her side Allitt, by then just twenty-three, listened in silence, saying nothing, as he listed each one of the four charges of murder – eight-week-old Liam Taylor, eleven-year-old Timothy Hardwick, nine-week-old Becky Phillips, fifteen-month-old Claire Peck.
Then came eight charges of attempting to murder and eight more of assault causing grievous bodily harm to Katie Phillips, Henry Chan, Kayley Desmond, Patrick Elstone, Christoper Peasgood, Christopher King, Bradley Gibson and Paul Crampton.
As he finished Allitt finally spoke. She said simply: ‘Thank you very much.’ One officer recalled: ‘We couldn’t believe it. We talked about it afterwards. There she was being charged with the murders of four children and the attempted murder of another eight and all she could say was “Thank you very much.” She treated it like a Sunday school outing.’
He added: ‘The surprising thing we noticed was the difference in her attitude, depending whether it was a conversation or an interview. In conversation she was very comfortable, very personable, but the minute you got into an interview situation it was as though someone had thrown a switch. It was like talking to two different personalities.’
Allitt was taken back to the row of police cells where she had spent her first night during questioning back in June, to await her first appearance in Grantham Magistrates’ Court the following morning.
After all their months of anxious waiting Supt Clifton wanted to ensure that the parents were the first to know about the charges.
A detective telephoned David Crampton, who had been designated to take the first call. David, an intelligent, professional man, had worked closely with Supt Clifton and was in no doubt about his ability to discover the truth. ‘If I had committed a crime and knew Stuart Clifton was after me, then I’d give myself up,’ he said. He let the other families know the news. Some were quietly delighted but Peter Phillips couldn’t hide his excitement and decided to go straight to Ward Four, where Katie was still under observation, to break the news to the other nurses.
He said: ‘I walked in, punching the air, shouting to the nurses that she had been charged. I expected them to be pleased that the waiting was finally over but virtually all of them walked away.’ This was not a night for celebration on Ward Four.
Knowing that she had been accused of murdering four children, the police doubted whether Allitt would get much sleep. Innocent or guilty, how could anyone rest with that hanging over her? But the next morning the young nurse was so soundly asleep that she had to be woken up to face the magistrates.
‘We all found it totally amazing,’ remembered one of the detectives. ‘You’d think that if you faced all those charges, you wouldn’t sleep a wink.’
News of Allitt’s impending appearance before the magistrates bench had caused angry crowds to gather outside Grantham Court. Among them were Peter and Sue Phillips, Robert and Hazel Elstone, Finbar Desmond, and Judith and Stephen Gibson, all of whom had endured days and nights of heartbreak on Ward Four.
The police wondered if Allitt’s composure would crumble as they prepared to escort her to the courtroom in a van with its windows meshed for extra security. One officer said. ‘She didn’t ask for a blanket to cover her face. It was as if she was relishing the attention she was getting. If you hadn’t known better you’d have thought she didn’t realise the implications of what was happening.’
Only when Allitt came within sight of the Court, saw the crowds who had waited three hours to catch sight of her, and heard the barrage of abuse and the jeers, did she react.
She asked one of the officers: ‘Are they going to hurt me?’
The police, concerned for the safety of their prisoner, threw a jacket over Allitt’s head as the van pulled to a halt outside the Court. She was led upstairs into courtroom Number One at 11.58am, wearing a grey jumper, purple T-shirt, black jeans and trainers.
It had taken 204 days from the first day of the investigation to put Allitt into court.
Now ther
e were fifty people trying to pack into the first-floor courtroom to see her. Every seat was filled and parents and relatives were allowed to stand, lining the green-painted walls, as Allitt was brought in to stand impassively in front of the three duty magistrates.
Parents were so close they could have reached out to touch her, but nobody tried. After the noisy, angry scenes outside, the silence was over-whelming as prosecuting solicitor, Philip Howes, rose to ask for Allitt to be remanded in custody for her own safety.
He told bench chairman, Mr Norman Dodson: ‘Feeling is running high in the locality, especially as far as the parents are concerned. There is a clear risk to this woman’s safety if you grant bail. Although she has been on bail, charges have now been brought and she realises the enormity of what she faces.’
Mr Kendall was keen to try to calm the rising tide of feeling, and asked for the normal reporting restrictions to be lifted so that the press could publish his announcement that Allitt would be pleading not guilty to all the allegations. He added: ‘The charges will be fought at the appropriate time and place.’
The hearing lasted just four minutes and Allitt was remanded in custody in New Hall Women’s Prison, near Wakefield, Yorkshire.
A photograph of Nurse Allitt’s face appeared on the front page of almost every newspaper in Britain. The picture, taken in a happier moment, showed her cradling tiny baby, twin Katie Phillips, in her arms.
But there was to be no way now she could ever expect to become Katie’s godmother.
Also blazed across the newspapers and on TV bulletins were vivid pictures of Liam Taylor’s grandmother, Shirley Little.
She was not a woman to forgive and forget.
As Allitt was driven away to prison, Shirley could contain her fury no longer and was pictured waving her fists and lunging at the police van, shouting: ‘Remember me, you bleeder.’
She had seen her grandson die in agonising circumstances and had then had to return to the hospital where she worked as a ward orderly.
Liam’s mother, Joanne, said: ‘We were all furious when we realised what had happened to Liam. My mother wanted to see her face to face. She even used to pedal up to Allitt’s house on her pushbike, just in case she could catch sight of her.’
Shirley took her revenge on Allitt by sticking pins in a photograph snipped from a newspaper; she kept this secretly hidden under a cushion on her settee. Joanne said: ‘I found it one day and screwed it up, thinking it was just a piece of old newspaper. My mum complained because she said she had not finished with it.’
On the morning after Allitt’s first appearance, Joanne took a taxi to her mother’s house. The driver was full of sympathy for the nurse whose photograph appeared on every front page. He half turned to Joanne, not realising that her baby was among those who had died, and said: ‘Isn’t it a shame – they have found her guilty before it’s proved.’
Joanne said: ‘I just flew at him. I found myself screaming at him, I was so angry. I just went on and on at the poor bloke who didn’t realise at first what he had said that was wrong. He was in a real state. When he drove off he was all flustered.’
Joanne and husband Chris had both found themselves drawn to the house where Allitt had been living in Grantham. Before she was arrested they would both drive there, wind down the window and stare at the front door in the hope of catching sight of the suspended nurse. Joanne said: ‘The funny thing was whenever I saw the house, my mind went numb and my legs would wobble and go to jelly.’
She had come face to face with Allitt just once since the day Liam had died on Ward Four. Two weeks after his death, friends had taken her into town for a night out to help her get over the tragedy and she spotted Allitt relaxing with her pals in the King’s Arms. Joanne was still grateful for the kindness Allitt had shown – still unaware of what was to come.
Joanne said: ‘All I wanted to do was go and talk to her about Liam. I told my friends that I was going to say thank you to her for looking after Liam. Allitt was with six or seven friends, and I tapped her on the arm. I was all choked up. I remember saying: “I want to thank you for looking after Liam.”
‘She just nodded her head and didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say any more, because I was so upset. I thought she would have shown some feelings but there was nothing there. It was almost as though we had never met.’
She went on: ‘Now I don’t feel any pity for her, only hatred. There are nights when I lie in bed and I can picture her standing and looking at Liam. What I would like more than anything is the chance to sit down and talk to her.
‘I want to know why she chose Liam. She was with him for nineteen hours in total. She must have known what he was going through all the time. She was supposed to be caring for him.’
Chris said: ‘Myra Hindley killed children but she was not in a position of trust, working with them in hospital. If you can’t trust a nurse, then who can you trust?’
15. ‘Close the Ward’
News of the murder charges failed to sway the view of Allitt’s family that the police were making an awful mistake. Most of the villagers in Corby Glen stayed loyal, refusing to believe that she was capable of the killings.
But friend Tracy Jobson began to doubt this view. As she waited for the trial she became convinced that her friend was a killer of babies.
She said: ‘I decided that one charge can be a mistake, but when there are twelve then common-sense tells you…Everyone who knows Bev still can’t believe she did it. I can’t believe it, but I know she has. It’s possible someone could do it if they’re a bit weird, something out of the ordinary. If you try and compare it with a multi-murderer like the Ripper, Peter Sutcliffe – he had some sort of reason, didn’t he? He didn’t like prostitutes, but there’s no reason behind what’s happened here.
‘Maybe she didn’t like babies, but what reason is that? You can think that maybe something was telling her that she couldn’t let little babies live, but what’s the reason?’
It was the absence of a motive that bewildered Tracy. None of the children had been grievously ill when they had been admitted to hospital, and the senselessness of it all appalled her. Also, like many other nurses, she feared the case could have a long-term effect on the hospital. How many parents, she wondered, would think twice about leaving their children in hospital in future?
If her friend had really murdered Liam Taylor, Timothy Hardwick, Becky Phillips and Claire Peck, there was one question Tracy needed answering: ‘How can you murder a baby at work and then carry on absolutely normally?’
Her mother, who had listened to Allitt’s denials and believed them for so long, could understand how so many people had been fooled. But even she wondered how, if she really was the killer on Ward Four, she could have done it and yet remain the same girl?
She said: ‘There are a lot of people at the hospital feel a lot of guilt. They feel they should have seen things and should have known but, really, there was no way of knowing what was going on. When you look back you think: “God!”’
If her friend was really a monster, Tracy accepted that her crimes would find a place in history. ‘What you’ve got is the biggest serial murderer in a British hospital ever – the strangest, weirdest murderer there has ever been. But you’ll never get a true insight into who she was, or what she was really like, unless you knew her…’
Mrs Jobson, her voice shaking with anger, declared: ‘I wish to God I could shut my eyes and pretend it never happened. The trouble is that the more you knew Beverley Allitt, the more normal she appeared in every way. Absolutely. I’ll never understand her as long as I live.
‘I think she’s very sick. But, at the same time, I think she knew what she was doing. She’s calculating but I think she can’t help herself. She can manipulate people, but she doesn’t come over as a forceful character.
‘You tend to feel sorry for her. That’s how she got you to think, she wanted you to feel sorry for her. I felt sorry for her when she first came here to my house. She w
ent into hospital twice while she was here.
‘I don’t think anyone is going to get any answers, even after the trial. I would love to have it all explained to me, why this and why that, but I don’t think anyone is going to get answers and explanations.
‘I don’t think there’s anything in her past that you could say this caused it, or that caused it. It’s not like she came from a broken home, or she’d been beaten or her parents were divorced. It’s very strange.
‘The weird things that were happening here were her just looking for attention, but she was getting all the attention anyway. At the same time I was keeping the press away from her; I was looking after her. I treated her like another daughter.
‘I am writing my story about what happened here. Even if it comes out two years after the trial, people will still want to read it, they really will. I don’t think anybody can imagine what I went through while Beverley was in my house. People will read it and say: “That’s unbelievable.” Nobody will believe it. But I’m doing it for my benefit. It’s almost a therapy.
‘I am feeling the reaction. I know a lot of people have been touched by what happened, especially those who have lost children, but it’s bad, too, for those whose children could have died. I don’t think anybody realises that. There’s more than one way of being damaged.
‘I feel as though I have been in a state of shock for six or seven months and, to be honest, I still am. The same with Jonathan. It changes your view on people. It makes you question your own judgement.
‘I know I am not the only one she took in. Nobody could have foreseen it either. I don’t think it could have happened in any other way than it did. At the hospital the administrators and the doctors were all taken in, they were all victims.
‘I know some people are complaining that it went on for as long as it did before it was stopped, but the truth is that I am sure if it had been happening on a geriatric ward, it could have still been going on and nobody would have known.
