The Search for Anne Perry
Page 36
Media coverage was extensive at the time of the murder, and it continued into the 1960s. In December 1954, Time magazine ran an article entitled ‘Rebels or Psychopaths?’ that tried to fashion a link between the girls and delinquency, and to fathom the ominous rise of the younger generation. ‘The youth of the world today is touched with madness, literally sick with an aberrant condition of mind formerly confined to a few distressed souls but now epidemic over the earth.’77 In 1964 the London Evening Standard fanned the story into life again for British readers with an account of the murder and an examination of its frightening undercurrent of ‘homosexual intensity’. In New Zealand the story was revived for holiday readers as part of a summer series for the Dominion Sunday Times in 1969. The editorial commentary never evolved or changed much. Once the tale had become a socio-cultural touchstone, why change it?
There was also other, less public commentary. Detective Sergeant Archie Tate wrote about the case for the Australian Police Journal in 1955. The same year Dr Reginald Medlicott published ‘Paranoia of the Exalted Type in a Setting of Folie à Deux: A Study of Two Adolescent Homicides’ in the British Journal of Medical Psychology, and, in 1970, ‘An examination of the necessity for a concept of evil: Some aspects of evil as a form of perversion’, for the British Journal of Medical Psychology. In the first article, Medlicott compared the Parker–Hulme murder ‘to cases like that of Albert Fish, who mutilated and murdered children, and to Ian Brady and Myra Hindley, the Manchester Moors killers’.78
Nothing Anne had done in Newcastle-upon-Tyne stretched her intellectually or satisfied her imagination, so she decided to pursue the dream she and Pauline had shared of going to the United States. ‘I was drawn to America compulsively. I would have to be, or I wouldn’t have taken the five years breaking my heart to get there.’ The authorities told her: ‘Look, you can go anywhere else in the world, but that one you cannot have. You can’t, and that’s it.’ But Anne persevered. ‘If you look at the pattern of my life: if I didn’t have hope against sense I wouldn’t have survived it. If I didn’t believe in miracles and that impossible things can be done.’ She employed a lawyer to represent and argue her case, and believes it was reviewed at the highest governmental level. Eventually an immigration visa was granted and she left.
I got in telling the absolute truth. They know more about me than I know about me … America has always treated me very, very well … I owe America a great deal and I hope I never ever, ever forget that, because they accepted me and acceptance always means a lot, but especially to somebody in my situation … and very often that’s the making of somebody. It’s a great gift to think the best of someone.79
For Anne, California was a place alive with possibility. She had always felt like a ‘very peculiarly shaped peg’ in a round hole. ‘That’s why I felt I belonged in California, because there are lots of funny shaped pegs.’ One day she joined thousands of people on a Los Angeles boulevard to watch a Halloween parade, with bands, cheerleaders and floats.
The most memorable thing I saw was ‘The Three Graces’ in silver lamé full-length dresses and they were all blokes, and they were all black, and they were all about six foot five … and I thought: ‘Yeah! This is Hollywood! Do your thing, fellow’! Do your thing! If you’re a six-foot-five black American bloke and you want to dress up in a silver lamé full-length dress — go for it! 80
The United States authorities knew they were taking a risk by letting Anne Perry into the country, but their acceptance helped her to rejoin the human race.
PICTURE SECTION
Anne’s maternal grandfather, Reverend Joseph Reavley, a Presbyterian minister who served as chaplain in the trenches during the Great War; he gives his name to Joseph Reavley, a central character in her quintet of First World War novels. COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Anne’s maternal grandfather, Reverend Joseph Reavley. COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Anne’s maternal grandmother, Marion Reavley. COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Photograph of Juliet at one year old, printed as a postcard to send to family and friends, 1939. COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Juliet on the beach at three-and-a-half years old. COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Juliet in winter coat and hat at about three years old. COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Juliet in broad-brimmed summer hat at about seven years old.
COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Juliet in red tartan trousers standing in front of a flowering hibiscus bush at about eight years old.
COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Fourteen-year-old Juliet Hulme photographed in the garden of Ilam, the Canterbury University College rectory in Upper Riccarton. First published in the Christchurch Star-Sun. NEW ZEALAND HERALD
The rectory, Ilam House, Upper Riccarton, Christchurch.
The stylish two-storey brick-and-stucco house, with its dozen rooms, servants’ quarters and attached flat, is set in 16 hectares of park-like grounds at the end of a long shingle drive lined with enormous trees. PHOTOGRAPH: SUZANNE VINCENT MARSHALL
The beautiful Ilam Stream meanders through the rectory property, surrounded by carefully manicured lawns, luxurious flowerbeds and vast areas of azalea and rhododendron gardens. PHOTOGRAPH: SUZANNE VINCENT MARSHALL
Henry and Hilda Hulme with Jonathan and Juliet on their arrival in Christchurch in 1948. First published in the New Zealand Woman’s Weekly. NEW ZEALAND HERALD
Henry Hulme, photograph taken in 1960. COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Jonathan Hulme went to St John’s College, Oxford, where he studied medicine, philosophy and psychology. At Oxford he was a member of the university rifle team. COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
This glamorous cut-down photograph of Hilda Hulme and Bill Perry was found by the author hidden behind another picture in a photograph frame. COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Double portrait photograph of Marion and Bill Perry taken around 1960.
COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Port Levy, where the Hulme family had a holiday home, and where Pauline and Juliet first discovered the ‘4th World’. PHOTOGRAPH: JOANNE DRAYTON
Christchurch Girls’ High School, Cranmer Square, Christchurch; now fallen victim to the 2010 and 2011 earthquakes. PHOTOGRAPH: SUZANNE VINCENT MARSHALL
Christchurch Girls’ High School, Cranmer Square, Christchurch. This, the second school structure erected to accommodate CGHS, was opened in September 1881. William Armson’s building was altered and more classrooms and buildings added to the site by Collins and Harman. This is where Juliet Hulme and Pauline Parker attended high school.
PHOTOGRAPH: SUZANNE VINCENT MARSHALL
Crowds of sightseers grouped around the entrance to the public gallery on Armagh Street, which was ‘packed mainly with fashionably dressed women who scrambled and jostled one another for seats the moment the doors were opened’. First published in the Christchurch Star-Sun. FAIRFAX MEDIA
Pauline Parker and Juliet Hulme leaving the Magistrates’ Court after being committed for trial in July 1954. First published in the Christchurch Star-Sun. NEW ZEALAND HERALD
Prison cell, Mt Eden Prison, 1950. NEW ZEALAND HERALD
Mt Eden Prison, 1950. NEW ZEALAND HERALD
Early publicity shot of Anne Perry. PHOTOGRAPH: JUDI SCHILLER; COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Meg Davis in her office at MBA Literary Agents Ltd, London, 2010.
PHOTOGRAPH: SUZANNE VINCENT MARSHALL
Anne Perry, author publicity shot.
COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Joanne Drayton, Anne Perry and Meg MacDonald, Portmahomack, Scotland, 2011.
PHOTOGRAPH: SUZANNE VINCENT MARSHALL
Anne Perry, another author publicity shot. PHOTOGRAPH: MEG MACDONALD; COLLECTION OF ANNE PERRY
Anne’s Edgar for her short story ‘Heroes’, reproduced in The Penguin Book of First World War Stories in 2000. PHOTOGRAPH: JOANNE DRAYTON
Meg MacDonald, Scotland, 2011. PHOTOGRAPH: SUZANNE VINCENT MARSHALL
Don Maass and Meg Davis, Anne’s USA
and UK agents, 2005. PHOTOGRAPH: LISA RECTOR-MAASS
Anne Perry with panelists at the Surrey International Writers’ Conference, 2011. PHOTOGRAPH: SUZANNE VINCENT MARSHALL
Anne’s home in Portmahomack is called ‘Tyrn Vawr’, after the mystical creative city that developed in the golden age before the Apocalypse in Come Armageddon. PHOTOGRAPH: MEG MACDONALD
Anne in the drawing room at Tyrn Vawr in Portmahomack, Scotland. PHOTOGRAPH: JOANNE DRAYTON
Garden at Tyrn Vawr. PHOTOGRAPHS: MEG MACDONALD
Garden at Tyrn Vawr. PHOTOGRAPHS: MEG MACDONALD
Garden at Tyrn Vawr. PHOTOGRAPHS: MEG MACDONALD
Garden at Tyrn Vawr. PHOTOGRAPHS: MEG MACDONALD
Garden at Tyrn Vawr. PHOTOGRAPHS: MEG MACDONALD
Garden at Tyrn Vawr. PHOTOGRAPHS: MEG MACDONALD
Interior and courtyard of Tyrn Vawr. PHOTOGRAPHS: JOANNE DRAYTON
Walk to the Tarbat Ness lighthouse with Peggy and Abbie, Portmahomack, Scotland, 2010. PHOTOGRAPH: JOANNE DRAYTON
Portmahomack, Scotland. PHOTOGRAPHS: JOANNE DRAYTON
Portmahomack, Scotland. PHOTOGRAPHS: JOANNE DRAYTON
POSTSCRIPT
‘I think we had 6th July in the diary. Would 2.30 suit you?’1 Meg Davis had written. The day dawned at last and it was unbelievably hot in London, which completely blew apart my packing, done in New Zealand. That morning had been a frantic rush around shops to buy a lighter summer jacket so I would not steam like a melting snowman during the interview. Meg Davis’s words — ‘if Anne feels comfortable with you’ — kept rolling around in my head. Of course she had to feel comfortable with me, I thought — that was only logical — but how could anyone feel comfortable with me when I felt so hot and sticky myself?
I arrived early and, as I waited nervously on the red sofa seat in MBA’s reception, I recalled Meg’s preparatory advice: ‘Anne’s been asked extensively — even obsessively — about the murder, and it really upsets her to talk about it, and she feels she’s said every last thing she has to say.’2 If I was going to dredge it all up again, she would probably leave the room.
When Meg Davis arrived and introduced herself, she was warmer and less formal than I had imagined. She ushered me up the narrow staircase to her office, where floor-to-ceiling bookshelves were stacked with Anne Perry books.
The woman waiting for me there was tall and immaculately made-up, and dressed in a form-fitting black jacket with a crisp white blazer-like trim. She had vivid, chestnut-coloured hair, a commanding voice and riveting eyes.
The moment had arrived and it was intensely disconcerting to hear the prattle that came out of my mouth. Then we stumbled onto the topic of family origins. ‘My ancient ancestors were Scandinavian,’ I blurted out. ‘How do you know?’ she enquired.
I explained that I had Dupuytren’s contracture — the ‘curse of the Vikings’ — in the palms of my hands. It is an inherited syndrome that can eventually claw your fingers, but that day it proved a happy affliction. ‘Oh. Well, do I have Dupuytren’s?’ Anne asked, offering me the palm of her hand. I felt around for the sinewy ridges and telltale nodules, then took the other hand and examined it. ‘Completely untouched by any Vikings,’ I announced with unwarranted authority.
Perhaps it was the human contact, but after that we settled down to a fascinating afternoon, some of which I tape-recorded. We talked about Anne’s life, her books, her family, until Meg Davis, shifting awkwardly in her seat, interrupted and said: ‘Look, it’s 6.30 and I have to be getting home, so if you two want to continue this conversation in a pub somewhere, please do. But I’ve got to go.’
And so we did, though not in a pub and not that night. I was planning to see an exhibition at the Edinburgh Museum, so Anne invited me to come to Portmahomack and talk more there.
Summer in Portmahomack can have blistering days that become balmy, light-filled evenings. My partner and I took a room in the Castle Hotel by the waterfront, where the sea crashes and rushes back across a grey pebble beach just metres from the front door. After my first day interviewing Anne, I arrived back at the hotel full of nervous energy. Spotting this, and an opportunity to have his two black Labradors exercised, Sandy, the proprietor, said, ‘Why don’t you and your friend take Peggy and Abbie for a walk down to Tarbat Ness lighthouse?’ And that’s exactly what we did.
Once we left the village there was no one about. The sky was an intense blue, with delicate swirls of white fluffy clouds; the slender country lane snaked its way through rolling countryside heavy with summer smells; the dogs ambled, unmoved by herds of Highland cattle or by hares that dashed across their path. When we reached the rock-candy lighthouse I had to remind myself that this must be an exceptional day, even here.
In a noisy bar-room conversation back at the hotel that evening, one of the locals told me, in a raised voice, that old Mrs Perry’s ashes had been scattered at the lighthouse.
I spent a total of three days with Anne on that visit. We would start about 9am and finish at 4pm or 5pm. Each day, Jonathan Hulme, who is a good cook, would make lunch for us all. Anne introduced me to the people who work with her, and to Humphrey the cat. She showed me around her lovely garden and her fields of set-aside land that are now in trust. At the end of my stay, we agreed to meet again in the New Year.
I arrived in Portmahomack on 2 January 2011 to a very different landscape. In London, where I had been conducting interviews and working on the Anne Perry files at MBA, it was the coldest winter for decades. In Scotland, there was so much snow and ice we took the train to Edinburgh, then hired a car, because we could not trust that Inverness Airport would stay open.
Our second meeting followed a similar pattern to the summer sessions, but this time lasted the whole week, Monday to Sunday, when I visited Anne’s Mormon church in Invergordon. This series of interviews went deeper. I asked her about her life and her books — never the murder — but when she felt relaxed she told me things. I began to realize that I was probably the first properly informed person to whom she had spoken about the murder since the 1950s.
It was a remarkable experience. We talked about philosophy, writing, books, poetry, music, places, pets and people — the good, the bad and the hypocritical — and sometimes we switched off the recorder and went for a walk or watched a favourite television programme or a recorded opera, or she read a piece of poetry to me. Each night I looked forward to our session the next day, but for Anne it was a much more raw and demanding process.
This has been a very difficult week. Very emotional, because … I realize how much I miss my parents — as friends. It is difficult going through all these things … I have lived with being demonized for so long that it is part of what I expect to be found … Most of the time to people I am having to try to explain myself and it doesn’t come across … Many of us are alone like that, but to my parents I wouldn’t have had to. I guess I’m still looking for somebody to whom I don’t have to explain myself, because they’ve got it.3
Anne Perry explains herself in her writing, in the stories of flawed protagonists who fail the world and themselves but can transcend their past to find forgiveness. They battle their history, the corrupting influences of the world and their own fallibility and self-doubt. It is a familiar literary conceit that, for Anne, has become a default position. Its suspense and resolution are perfectly suited to crime fiction. She writes prodigiously, and with imagination and penetrating intelligence. And until the world finally ‘gets it’, and she can forgive herself, it is a story she will tell over and over again.
ENDNOTES
The pagination of this electronic edition does not match the edition from which it was created. To locate a specific passage, please use the search feature of your e-book reader.
Unless otherwise indicated, all interviews are with the author.
Abbreviations
NAMES
AP
Anne Perry
CP
Christine Park
DL
Dana Linkie
wicz
DM
Don Maass
DT
Diana Tyler
EH
Emmanuelle Heurtebise
HD
Hope Dellon
IT
Imogen Taylor
JB
Joe Blades
JD
Joanne Drayton
JF
Janet Freer
JH
Jonathan Hulme
KH
Kim Hovey
KS
Ken Sherman
LK
Lynne Kirwin
LN
Leona Nevler
MD
Meg Davis
MM
Meg MacDonald
MP
Marion Perry
NC
Nancy Colbert
NS
Nancy Sutherland