The Sleep of Reason: The James Bulger Case (4 page)

In 1982, in Birkenhead, a boy aged nine killed a twelve-year-old boy who died after a single stab wound during an argument in the street near their homes. The nine-year-old said the stabbing was accidental. Although this was disputed at the inquest, the coroner recorded an open verdict after declaring that the twelve-year-old had been unlawfully killed. The nine-year-old boy was too young to face criminal charges.

In 1986, in Sussex, a girl aged five was with a friend when she allegedly took a three-week-old baby from his pram and swung the baby by his legs against a wall. The baby was killed, but the girls were too young to face criminal charges.

In 1988, in Borehamwood, a twelve-year-old boy abducted a two-year-old girl from a playground and walked her just over a mile to a railway embankment where he pushed her face into soft ground until she suffocated. They had been seen by a total of seventeen people during the 40-minute walk following the abduction. The boy had no history of violence and no previous convictions. His parents were separated, and he was in care at the time of the offence. He was convicted of the abduction and killing of the child, and ordered to be detained during Her Majesty’s pleasure.

In 1990, in Glasgow, a twelve-year-old boy drowned a three-year-old child after beating his head against stones in a stream. The boy was said to have come from a ‘fairly sad’ family background. Cleared of murder but found guilty of culpable homicide, he was ordered to be detained indefinitely.

In 1992, in Northumberland, an eleven-year-old girl killed the eighteen-month-old child she was babysitting. When the baby would not stop crying, the girl beat him against the bars of his cot, and then suffocated the child by placing her hand over his mouth and nose. The girl was convicted of manslaughter.

1

Jon was late leaving for school. His mother was hurrying him out of the door a few minutes before nine, checking he’d got the note she’d written for the teacher in which she asked if it would be all right for Jon to bring the gerbils home for next week’s half-term holiday.

Now, Jon headed for the walkways under the flyover. He vanished into the bushes in the middle of the roundabout, re-emerging without his school bag, the black one with red stripes on the handle that usually contained his wildlife books, his wrestling magazines and his PE kit. The bushes were Jon’s preferred hiding place for the bag.

He met Bobby at the top of the village, by the church. Bobby was with his kid brother, Ryan. He had already called for Gummy Gee, who was staying off school with a belly ache. Gummy told Bobby he’d got the runs.

Jon and Bobby didn’t say much to each other.

‘You sagging?’

‘Yeah.’

Ryan didn’t want to sag. He wanted to go to school. Yesterday Jon had offered him two quid if he would sag today, but Ryan wasn’t having any of it. He wanted to go to school. Friday was pottery day, and Ryan liked pottery. So they left him to make his own way down Bedford Road, and Jon and Bobby disappeared down the entries to avoid being spotted as they passed the school.

They were seen anyway by their 5R classmate Nicola. She told Miss Rigg, who marked two red circles by their names in the register, and mentioned the boys’ apparent truancy to the head teacher on the way to assembly.

Last night, after the pupils had gone home, Miss Rigg had moved Jon’s desk to the back of the class. He had been particularly awkward yesterday, the worst she’d ever seen him, in fact; fidgety and excitable, as if barely able to contain himself, while the class made electrical circuits with batteries and light bulbs. She had remarked on it to her colleagues and had determined to do better with him today.

After assembly the head teacher, Irene Slack, spoke to Nicola, who confirmed that she had seen Jon and Bobby down an entry by the off licence, running in the opposite direction to school. Miss Slack called the
Education Welfare Office, and tried to phone Jon’s mother. No answer.

Jon and Bobby were on their way down Breeze Hill and out of Walton, past the reservoir, The Mons pub, Smiley’s Tyre and Exhaust Centre, straight on to Merton Road and into the heart of Bootle, crossing Stanley Road, over the canal and round the back to the Strand entrance by the bus terminal. It was about two miles.

As they went along, they talked about robbing and sagging. Jon wondered what would happen if they got caught by a teacher or a policeman. Bobby said they’d probably end up in the police station.

They were both in school uniform, or most of it. Black trousers, white shirt, grey V-necked jumper, blue and yellow striped tie. Both boys were wearing their brogies. Bobby was wearing his black jacket with the green trim and the blue patches. Jon’s jacket was mustard-coloured and plain, and not long bought from Dunn’s.

Jon had a bowl ’ead haircut, Bobby a Number 2 crop, straight through with the shears. Jon was four feet and eight inches tall. Bobby was shorter by two inches. They were both ten years old, their birthdays two weeks apart in August.

*

When the shop assistant in Clinton Cards noticed the uniforms, she called out from behind the till. Bobby and Jon stood there, looking at the extensive selection of trolls on display. Bobby, who liked trolls, would have robbed one or two, if he could.

‘You off school then?’

‘Yeah, it’s Baker’s Day,’ Bobby said.

‘Do you mean Inset Day?’

‘No. Half term.’

What school did they go to? St Mary’s. Where was that? Walton. At this, Jon gave Bobby a stamp with his foot. ‘We’re with our mum,’ said Bobby, and with that they left the card shop.

Bobby stole a toy soldier from Superdrug. It was a clockwork sniper, which slithered along the floor when wound up. Bobby took it on the escalators, and tried to make it crawl along the rubber handrail. When the sniper fell or was thrown down on the escalating steps, a woman shopper told them off. They should be more careful. The escalator might get jammed. Bobby and Jon ignored her.

The woman was sitting on a bench outside Boots a few minutes later, waiting for her mother-in-law, when she saw Bobby and Jon again. They were walking out of the Strand’s department store, TJ Hughes, followed by a small child. They were all laughing, the two older boys running forward,
stopping and turning as the child ran towards them laughing. The woman watched as the child’s mother appeared, in a bit of a panic as she called her son back and scolded him. The two older boys just seemed to melt away.

Bobby and Jon had left the escalator and gone into TJ Hughes, lurking round the bag counters, trying to rob the rucksacks, gloves and bumbags.

*

Mrs Power had been shopping with her three-year-old daughter and her two-year-old son. Mrs Power had been looking at sweatshirts; nearby, her two children turned their attention to the purses on display. She noticed the two boys, Bobby and Jon, kneeling there too, opening and closing purses as if playing with her children.

When she had chosen a sweatshirt, Mrs Power went to collect her children. She overheard Jon say, ‘Thommo, take one of these.’ Bobby was still kneeling by the purses. Both froze as she approached and took her two children to the till.

There was a queue at the till, and Mrs Power’s children wandered off again. Mrs Power retrieved them again, and yet again they wandered off. The daughter reappeared on her own.

‘Where’s your brother?’

‘Gone outside with the boys.’

Mrs Power checked the purse counter before going to the store entrance, where she saw her son, a few yards in front of her, walking towards Bobby and Jon. Jon stood by one of the Strand’s mirrored posts, beckoning the lad to him.

Mrs Power shouted, and her son stopped. ‘Go back to your mum,’ Jon said, and he went. While Mrs Power gave him a scolding, Jon and Bobby crossed into Mothercare. Camera 8 of the Strand’s closed circuit television security system recorded them there, at 12.34.34.

2

Ralph and Denise Bulger usually went to bed late, and got up late in the morning. Last night had been no different. Their two-year-old son, James, had fallen asleep on the settee just before midnight, and they had left him there until Ralph picked him up at about half past one, when they all went to bed.

Denise, who was 25, liked to keep James by her side. She was the first to concede that she was very protective. Not long before their Register Office marriage three years ago, the couple’s first pregnancy had resulted in the still-birth of a baby daughter they remembered as Kirsty. They had been together three years when Ralph proposed, on the day the pregnancy was lost. Denise reasoned that it was this loss which had made her so over-attached to James. She did not like him going out with her relatives or friends, and did not want him to go to playschool. He went to bed when she did, and got up when his mother got up.

On Friday morning, the Bulgers were awake and out of bed at about 10.30. Denise was washing in the bathroom and James followed her in, wanting the loo. She organised his breakfast, a bowl of Frosties, and he sat eating them by the fire in the living room with his father.

When they all left the one-bedroomed maisonette at midday, Denise was, as usual, on her way to her mother’s with James. Ralph walked with them through Kirkby, but carried on to visit Denise’s brother, Paul. At 26, Ralph was one of the long-term unemployed. He reckoned he’d been on seventeen training and job creation schemes, not one of which had created a job. Today he was giving Paul a hand putting some furniture together. Ralph, as he sometimes said, was a jack of all trades, a jobber without a job. He could do anything – given the opportunity.

Denise’s mum was out, but one of Denise’s sisters was there and the television was on, showing
Neighbours.
James played with the sister’s daughter, Antonia, as a succession of relatives passed in and out. Denise was the second youngest of thirteen children, her mother having been one of ten. The core of the family was in Kirkby, and John, Denise, Paul and the others were always in and out of their mother’s home.

Paul’s partner, Nicola Bailey, was looking after John’s three year old,
Vanessa, that day. She called in to ask Denise to go with her to the Strand. Nicola wanted to change some underwear at TJ Hughes, but had no baby seat in her car. Denise could help her out by sitting in the back with Vanessa. James always liked the drive in Nicola’s car, so Denise said she’d go along for the ride, and Nicola said she'd pop back in half an hour to collect them.

At about a quarter past two Nicola, Denise and the two children, settled now in the B Reg., burgundy Ford Orion, drove through Walton and past the prison to the Strand. They parked on the ground floor of the multistorey car park, went up the steps to cross the bridge, and entered the shopping centre through Woolworths. Camera 16 recorded them there, at 14.30.34.

Coming out onto the concourse from Woolworths, Denise and Nicola decided to give James and Vanessa a 20p ride on a children's mechanical seesaw. Then they all went into TJ Hughes so that Nicola could exchange her underwear.

While she was doing this, Denise could see and hear James and Vanessa playing around inside the store. James went to the door, lost sight of his mum and shouted in fright. Denise went over and picked him up, carrying him as they left the shop.

James was almost exactly two years and eleven months old. He would be three on 16 March. He had fair skin and light brown, almost blond hair. He had a full set of baby teeth and his eyes were blue, with a tinge of brown in the right eye.

He was dressed that day in a blue waterproofed, cotton anorak with quilted lining and a hood, which Denise had bought from In Shops in Kirkby. Beneath the anorak was a grey tracksuit, with white stripes down the legs, and beneath the tracksuit was a white T shirt with blue stripes on the back, and green stripes on the front around the word ‘Noddy’. On his feet were a pair of white Puma trainers, and around his neck was a blue woollen scarf with yellow stripes, illustrated with a white cat's face, and with a white bobble at either end.

3

Jon and Bobby were darting in and out of the shops, pinching here and there, then mostly just throwing the stuff away, to make room in their pockets for the next lot of booty. Bobby was after a boxed troll in TJ Hughes, until a security guard told them to leave. Jon robbed a couple of felt-tipped pens, and left them lying on a display cooker.

They investigated the computer games and equipment in Tandy, Rumbelows, Dixons and Woolworths. The assistant in Tandy showed Jon some cheats for the Segas and told him how to put songs on the Commodores. They left Tandy with a four-pack of Evergreen AA-sized 1.5v batteries.

It was no fun in Woolworths, because you couldn’t play with the computers. Jon and Bobby looked at the Thunderbird toys, but Bobby was unimpressed. They were stringy things, he said, and not worth the trouble of thieving.

Across Stanley Road from the Strand, next, to mess around in MacDonalds and the Bradford and Bingley Building Society next door. The Society’s branch manager asked them what they were doing. Bobby said they were waiting for their mum. When they began clambering over the chairs, the branch manager suggested they go and wait in MacDonalds. Bobby said they’d already been thrown out of there, but Jon said, ‘Come on, let’s go,’ so they left the branch manager in peace and ran down to the Kwikkie to rob some Chocolate Dips and Iced Gems. Back on Stanley Road they again bumped into the branch manager, who was on his way to lunch, and Bobby asked him for 20p. The branch manager said no, and carried on walking.

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?’