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My James: The Heartrending Story of James Bulger by His Father

Page 19

by Ralph Bulger


  Home Secretary Jack Straw followed the Lord Chief Justice’s decision by immediately referring the cases of Thompson and Venables to the Parole Board, to decide if it was safe to release them on licence in the coming months. The board would have to take on lengthy assessments and it was announced that their decision would be unlikely to be made until February of the following year. According to Lord Woolf, the time the killers had spent in detention by that stage was the equivalent of a court jailing an adult for sixteen years, who could expect parole halfway through the sentence. The long and the short of it was this: when Lord Woolf made his ruling to end their tariff, Thompson and Venables had served just seven years and eight months.

  He said, ‘The one overriding mitigating feature of the offence is the age of the two boys when the crime was committed.’

  He went on to say that he believed if the killers were to be transferred from local authority secure units to young offender institutions, it would ‘undo much of the good work’ that had been carried out to rehabilitate them. He believed they would not be able to cope with the ‘corrosive atmosphere’ and exposure to drugs they would inevitably encounter in such places. He also said that while information about the impact of James’s death on his parents had been of real value, he had never invited us to give our views on what the appropriate tariff should be. That, he said, had to remain strictly a legal decision.

  It was the first time that a judge had set the tariff for a young person’s release. Until that point, the Home Secretary had always decided when a child sentenced to detention under Her Majesty’s pleasure should be considered for release. The European Court of Human Rights had changed all that by insisting that the setting of a tariff, which was effectively fixing a sentence, had to be done by an independent and impartial tribunal and not by a politician.

  So there it was: what felt like the final kick in the balls. We believed that our views amounted to nothing and had been merely lip service to a judicial system that had already decided that it wanted to release Thompson and Venables back into society. It felt like we had been tucked up in our own country by a bunch of interfering lawyers from Europe who had hijacked the laws of Great Britain to defend the ‘human rights’ of two young psychopaths.

  The decision brought outrage across the country and, once again, the case of James Bulger was back on the front pages and in the headlines on television news. The liberal do-gooders were rubbing their hands with glee but politicians from all sides of the fence were furious.

  Gerald Howarth, MP for Aldershot, said, ‘It is monstrous that a matter of huge national importance like this should be decided by unaccountable judges. These cases, which raise matters of huge national importance, should be decided by politicians who can be held to account on the floor of the House of Commons’

  Lord Tebbit said, ‘Whatever the merits or demerits of this particular decision, it emphasizes the extent towards the unelected judiciary overriding the elected Governments decisions. This is a dangerous trend and, if continued, it will bring both Government and the judiciary into disrepute.’

  I sat with Jimmy and vented my anger. ‘How the fuck can they do this, Jim? How can they say it is OK to let these monsters go free after just eight years after what they have done to James?’

  ‘We’11 just keep fighting, Ralph. We will never give up and we all owe that to James’

  ‘But they don’t care about James. They don’t care about his grieving relatives and how our lives have been destroyed. We’re just numbers to them — it’s cruel and it’s wrong. How are we going to fight this?’

  ‘We will find a way, Ralph, don’t you worry. Robin won’t allow this to drop.’

  Jimmy was right. Robin was not going to bow down at the first hurdle. We knew it was a tough fight against politicians and legal hierarchies, which seemed to have their doors firmly closed to ordinary people like me. But we had to keep trying. And it was time to ramp up the public’s attention.

  Robin made an immediate public announcement that our family was to explore all possibilities to appeal Lord Woolf’s decision, even though it had not been something that had been tried before.

  And that was not the worst of it. As soon as Lord Woolf ended the boys’ tariff, lawyers acting for Thompson and Venables launched a lightning-quick High Court action to give James’s killers lifelong anonymity. They wanted the boys back in society but for no one to know who they were.

  To say I was devastated doesn’t even come close. I felt just like I did when James was first murdered: angry and helpless. We had huge support from the general public, and the following month, in November, MAMAA organized a peaceful protest in Liverpool against the planned release of James’s killers.

  Denise had also been fighting her own justice campaign for our son, by organizing marches and rallies and publicity. We still didn’t speak to one another following our divorce, but we both had the same voice when it came to fighting for our boy. The rally, which was held on the steps of Liverpool’s historic St George’s Hall, was the first time in more than five years that Denise and I came together in a show of solidarity for James. Denise was by now happily remarried and we put our differences to one side with only one common aim between us: to show the world we were fighting for our boy. Hundreds of people turned out to support the rally, including Bill Jenkins, the father of murdered schoolgirl Billie-Jo Jenkins, and Winnie Johnson, the mother of Keith Bennett, who was murdered by Moors killers Myra Hindley and Ian Brady. June Richardson, whose son was killed by child murderer Mary Bell, also spoke at the rally.

  Many of them offered both Denise and me words of comfort because they had all suffered terrible losses. There was a bond between all the bereaved relatives. Bill Jenkins stayed in Jimmy’s house for the weekend, even though none of us had never met before that day. Bill was a lovely man, just an ordinary bloke who felt that the legal system had let him and his daughter down. He had had some terrible battles with the establishment over the years, but it felt good to have others to talk to who knew what we were going through.

  Denise and I didn’t talk at the rally but we stood shoulder to shoulder as James’s parents, because we had both lost so much. Neither of us addressed the march but we remained composed and dignified in honour of our boy. It was a very emotional day and I was choked listening to some of the speakers.

  Dee Warner addressed the rally on behalf of MAMAA with real passion. She said, ‘MAMAA first came here to Liverpool when James was killed and I can’t believe we are back here again now, just eight years later, trying to keep these boys locked up. The law in this country is for everyone, but it seems that justice is only for those who can afford it. All it takes for evil to prevail is for good people to stand by and do nothing, which is why we are here today to make our feelings known. One day these boys, who are now eighteen, could be living next door to you or me. They could win our confidence and one day be babysitting our children because they have new identities and we will never know who these boys are. If they were capable of doing what they did to James at ten, God help us now they are eighteen. They don’t deserve compassion and we don’t want them released.’

  June Richardson also addressed the rally: ‘Something good inside each and every one of us died the day they killed James Bulger. His killers have never been punished. We may just be ordinary people but we demand that they be properly punished.’

  It was a heartbreaking sight when Winnie Johnson, who sadly died in 2012 without ever finding where the Moors killers had buried her beloved son Keith, took the stand to speak to the crowds. Visibly shaking and sobbing, Winnie had to be held up by friends but insisted on having her say. She said, ‘In 1964, my lad was taken from me by Brady and Hindley. I have never had peace of mind and that is all I have ever wanted. I want my son’s killers to stay in prison, as I do the killers of James Bulger.’

  Winnie really touched my heart that day. Like all parents of murdered children, she had never got over the loss of her son Keith. I knew how she felt and
I also realized I was going to feel just as she did for the rest of my life.

  The rally was a very public statement that gave ordinary people the chance to support us in our campaign, but the hard work was going on behind the scenes, and Robin would be the man to lead us forward.

  Jimmy and I put in applications for legal aid to bring action through the courts in protest at Lord Woolf’s tariff but they were turned down. I couldn’t help but feel it was an attempt to silence us — and so we decided to launch a public appeal to help us with our fight against Lord Woolf’s decision. Much of the legal language was beyond me, but Robin always explained it to me in simple layman’s terms. In essence, he was preparing on our behalf to challenge Lord Woolf’s decision through the High Court in a bid to overturn the ruling to release Thompson and Venables. It was a long and complicated process but I knew that Robin would do an excellent job.

  Together with MAMAA, we set up the Human Rights for Victims Fund to pay for the legal process. I made an impassioned appeal at the time, begging the public to get behind us. I gave a rare media interview to the Mail on Sunday and, even though I hated the spotlight, I agreed to go on television to get our message across. We had also arranged to release a never-before-seen video of James for the television networks to play. For a few brief moments, it brought James alive again, and the world could see just what a lovely, bubbly little boy he was. The footage showed James on a trampoline at a family birthday party. He was bouncing up and down and laughing his head off. You also heard him calling out my name and attempting to sing ‘Happy Birthday’.

  I had never appeared in a television interview before, because I was just too shy and ill equipped to deal with the intensity of questions. My only experience of television cameras had been at the press conferences when James was missing. Against my better judgement, I went on GMTV’s early-morning breakfast show to highlight our campaign and to speak alongside the release of the video. It was a public relations disaster. I was just not cut out to do public speaking. I had neither the right words nor the confidence to speak in public, and as a result I came across as hostile and difficult. I’m not either of those, but as soon as the interview went live, I froze like a rabbit caught in the headlights. My defences went up and I scowled at the camera. Inside I felt like a terrified child and my jaw clenched tight as my hands began sweating.

  It was an uncomfortable interview for the TV hosts as well, and although I tried my best, I found it so hard to find the right words. Then, as the short interview drew to a close, I was asked what I would do if Thompson and Venables were released. My instant response was to say, ‘I’ll do my best to hunt them down.’

  It was the worst possible thing I could have said, but it came from my gut. I have talked already in this book about the difference between what you would like to do and what you would actually do, and they are a world apart, but I had just blurted out on live television that I would like to hunt down James’s killers if they were ever freed. I would be lying if I said that it had not been a part of my fantasy thoughts. Can any other parent honestly say that it would not have crossed their minds? Of course I felt the need to avenge the brutal murder of my child, but I would never have done it. As I’ve already written, unless you have been through something like this, it is impossible to understand the difference between the thoughts in your head and the reality of how you act. It is no different to considering the possibility of suicide; it doesn’t mean you are actually going to go through with it.

  However, the damage was done in a very public way, and I regret with all my heart what I said. It didn’t help my cause either. As the debate raged on about whether Thompson and Venables should receive lifelong anonymity, my comments were seen as another reason for the powers that be to give them secret identities, because they believed there was a very real danger to their lives should their names and whereabouts become public knowledge. It was a hard lesson for me to learn about the media, not that it was the TV show’s fault. I was just not media-sawy enough to know the right things to say, and instead I just spoke from the heart in the only straightforward way that I knew.

  The general public were quite remarkable in their response to our appeal. Not only did they make donations in their thousands to help pay for the legal challenge, they got behind us with moral support too. Despite the nightmare television interview, total strangers came up to me in the street and patted me on the back and wished me luck for what I was doing. Robin, as ever, led the way, with Jimmy riding shotgun for me the majority of the time. Jimmy is far more articulate than I am, and so he was a natural bridge to interpret the ins and outs of the legal case.

  With every passing day, the media spotlight intensified, and in January 2001 our legal challenge began. Robin had prepared our case in meticulous detail and I was so very, very proud of him. The challenge he was mounting was making legal history, and even though we knew there would be a rough ride ahead, we were determined to make as much impact as possible. The game plan was to seek a judicial review of Lord Woolf’s decision as a way of reversing the decision to reduce the killers’ tariff to eight years, ensuring they remained locked up for as long as possible.

  Robin went through the court papers with us in fine detail, explaining what the implications of the case would be. He warned us that it would be a tough fight that we may not win, but, like us, he believed wholeheartedly it was the right thing to do. He had listened to our fury and represented our views immaculately. We pulled no punches and accused the Lord Chief Justice of putting the killers’ interests before those of the victim, insisting that they needed to be punished for longer for the terrible crime they had committed.

  We also claimed that the Lord Chief Justice had ‘erred’ in treating the rehabilitation of Thompson and Venables as more important than their punishment and that the eight-year tariff was too low for the enormity and brutality of the murder. Concerns that the boys would have to be transferred to a young offenders’ prison if their sentence continued was irrelevant, we concluded. In fact, I believed they deserved to go to a harsher institution than a local authority secure unit.

  Robin Makin told reporters, ‘This is a unique case which we believe must be addressed publicly and thoroughly. It goes to the very heart of how decisions are made in a democratic society. Every legal challenge is flawed with difficulties, but on its merits, we believe we have a very good case. We hope the justice system is able to deal properly with this very serious issue.’

  The papers were served not only on Lord Woolf, but on Home Secretary Jack Straw too as part of our application for a judicial review of the decision. We were trying to hold both politicians and judges accountable for the huge errors we believed they were making.

  The legal hurdles kept coming at us like rapid gunfire. As soon as the papers were committed to the courts, we faced another huge drama. As the Parole Board continued its assessments of Thompson and Venables to establish if it was safe to release them, another major court ruling loomed and that was to establish if this pair, who were now young men themselves, should be allowed to have secret identities and lifelong anonymity if they were released from detention.

  As much as I tried to believe that our justice system might for once be on our side, I think I knew in my heart what was coming.

  On 8 January 2001, Thompson and Venables won an unprecedented court order to allow them to have anonymity for the rest of their lives. They were also to be given brand- new secret identities so that on their release, no one would know who they were.

  The ruling was made by England’s most senior family judge, the Honourable Dame Elizabeth Butler-Sloss, to protect the killers from possible revenge attacks by James Bulgers relatives and the public. The draconian order banned the media from disclosing information about the new identities, addresses, appearance and even the accents of the pair. Even if information was widely available on the Internet, they could not report it. In addition, the media was banned from publishing any information about the eight years they spent
in local authority detention for a full twelve months after their release.

  The application for new identities had been lodged by the lawyers acting for Thompson and Venables and had been vehemently opposed by some of the biggest newspaper groups in Britain, including News Group, Associated Newspapers and the Mirror Group, which insisted that secret identities for the boys would damage open justice, press freedom and the public’s overriding right to know the identities of those who committed serious and detestable crimes. But because Dame Elizabeth felt that the lives of Thompson and Venables would be at risk if they were identified, in her eyes this outweighed the importance of freedom of expression and the right of the press to publish.

  The biggest sting in the tail for me was when Dame Elizabeth quoted me insisting that I would hunt James’s killers down. So my disastrous interview had come back to haunt me.

  I was beside myself with rage but, of course, totally unsurprised. What really distressed me more than anything was that this new ruling, one of the legacies of my son’s murder, meant that other monsters in the future would be able to use it as a tool to live in secrecy too. That was the last thing I wanted to result from what had happened to James. I believe that the treatment of Venables and Thompson always made the Establishment nervous, because if they changed their policy of rehabilitation to punishment they would be admitting they had got it wrong first time round. And they were young men by now, so they should have been treated like any other adult murderers. The pair may have been notorious and they may have faced dangers if their identities were known, but that also applies to many other adult killers who earned infamy through their crimes and were later released into society. Why should these two be treated any differently?

 

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