Evil Relations: The Man Who Bore Witness Against the Moors Murderers by David Smith & Carol Ann Lee

Author:David Smith & Carol Ann Lee [Smith, David & Lee, Carol Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: True Crime, Murder, Social Science, General, Criminology, Serial Killers, Biography & Autobiography, Law, Personal Memoirs, Witnesses, Legal History, Criminals & Outlaws
ISBN: 9781780575391
Google: RZ1MygAACAAJ
Amazon: 1780575394
Publisher: Mainstream Publishing
Published: 2012-05-31T14:00:00+00:00

*

I’m back in the living room of Wardle Brook Avenue. A few short hours ago a boy my age and height, who came from the same streets as me, was sitting exactly where I am now. Not enough time has passed to remove the brutality of his last seconds of life. But I’m not seeing the room or its history through my own eyes; I’m inside Myra Hindley’s head, looking at myself on the settee next to Ian. It feels . . . how can I describe this? It’s as if I’m peering through the cut-out sockets of a Ku Klux Klan hood.

Well, David Smith, look at you, sitting there as cool as you like. I never saw this coming. How did my Ian see this thing in you? How did he know that what’s inside you is the same as it is in us? How could I have been so wrong about you? I thought Ian had lost the plot. I couldn’t understand why he wanted you when he had me, but there you sit, bang to rights, just like Ian guessed. Still, there’s one thing you ought to know, you little bastard.

You’ll never come between us. Our world is ours alone.

I see the real me leaning forward, grinning with Ian. We’re comparing our injuries, me and him. He’s gone over on his ankle and I’m showing him a dent in my left shin where the axe grazed the skin. My blood has frozen in my veins. My heart doesn’t beat. I have no emotion. I am an abomination of myself.

Ian and I share a cruel, quick humour and the laughter brings him down gently from his high. I draw on my cigarette, throw my head back and blow smoke rings into the stuffy air. Ian bends down to make a fuss of the dogs and I do the same. He’s not manic now, but his speech is still fast and his eyes are full of light. The longer this goes on, the happier he is. I’m not sweating, stuttering or trembling. I am relaxed, letting time pass at its own speed. I don’t care if I have to stay here all night. Ian has totally accepted me and if this was a test, then in his eyes I’ve passed with flying colours, all right. Myra sits on the edge of her chair, making small talk with me but thinking to herself: What have you done, Ian? How did this happen? Why would you want it to be like this? Look at you both, laughing together as if this is the start of something. It’s not. You’ve gone too far, Ian. I don’t know this Dave Smith at all. Look at you both, shoulders touching, brothers-in-fucking-arms. It should be you and me, no one else. You wanted to blow this piece of shit away not so long ago. Now look at you. What have you found that I can’t feel? Where will it end?

Ian stands up and hobbles around the room, clutching chair backs for support.

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