David Peace - 1980

Taking notes, getting ready to check their files, their lists -

Finished, I close my notebook and stand up.

‘John,’ I say to Murphy. ‘I’m going to have a chat with Jim Prentice and Dickie Alderman; would you mind sitting in?’

‘Not at all,’ he says, getting up.

‘OK, I’ll see the rest of you back at the hotel tonight, if not before. Tomorrow we’ll do Dawn Williams after the morning briefing and I’ll also update you on Laureen Bell.’

‘If there’s anything to update,’ says Hillman.

‘Yeah, if there is anything.’

Dick Alderman and Jim Prentice are waiting for us downstairs.

Dick doesn’t even say hello -

Jim says: ‘Where do you want to do this?’

‘It’s your Nick,’ I say -

‘But it’s your show,’ he says.

‘Interview room?’ offers Murphy -

‘The fucking Belly?’ laughs Alderman.

‘Lead on,’ I say.

Alderman’s grinning as we follow him and Prentice down the stairs to their interview rooms; to the Belly -

Alderman opens a heavy door and we step inside one of their well-scrubbed bright rooms -

‘Just get another chair,’ says Prentice and goes next door.

We sit around the empty table, me and John Murphy on one side, Alderman on the other, Prentice sitting down beside him when he comes back in -

We’ve got our notebooks out, me and Murphy.

‘All right if we smoke?’ asks Prentice.

‘Go ahead,’ I say, declining the open pack.

Murphy takes one and the three of them light up.

‘Got any sandwiches?’ laughs Alderman.

‘No,’ I say, flicking through my notes. ‘No beer either.’

‘Just pulling your leg,’ he says.

‘Right,’ I say, finding my place. ‘Let’s get started.’

‘All ears,’ winks Alderman.

‘First of all, many thanks for making yourselves available. As you know, we’ve been asked to review all aspects of the Ripper Inquiry and to make any recommendations we might find, based on what we see.’

‘And what do you see?’ asks Alderman.

‘Please,’ I smile. ‘We aren’t at that stage yet; that’s why we’re grateful that you’ve agreed to have this talk with us.’

‘Like we had a choice?’ he sniffs.

I ignore him: ‘Both of you have been involved with the inquiry from the off, and are still involved, so obviously you both have a tremendous amount of knowledge about the different investigations, the methods and procedures.’

I pause, glancing their way -

Prentice is stubbing out his cig, eyes on me; Alderman jumpy, not like him.

‘Let’s start at the beginning: Theresa Campbell.’

‘That’s not the beginning,’ says Alderman. ‘What about Joyce Jobson and Anita Bird?’

‘Sorry, I didn’t realise either of you were involved with those attacks.’

‘We weren’t,’ says Prentice, looking at Alderman.

‘Just saying that Campbell wasn’t the first, that’s all,’ says Alderman.

‘OK then,’ I nod. ‘The first murder.’

‘That’d be a bit more accurate,’ smiles Alderman.

‘Both Campbell and Richards were the same team?’

Prentice nods: ‘Chief Superintendent Jobson, out of here.’

‘And you two were the senior detectives?’

‘Yes,’ says Alderman. ‘Still are.’

‘Other detectives involved then were John Rudkin and Bob Craven?’

Jim Prentice nods.

‘I spoke with Maurice last Tuesday, he spoke very highly of this set-up.’

Prentice is still nodding, Alderman staring straight at me now -

I say: ‘Impression I got was that Maurice thinks that, had this team been kept together, you’d have caught the Ripper by now.’

Silence -

‘So,’ I continue. ‘I’m obviously interested in what you both think, given you’ve worked under both Maurice and George Oldman, and now Pete Noble?’

‘What?’ laughs Alderman. ‘You’re asking us whether we think if Maurice had been kept on, whether we’d have got the Ripper by now?’

‘I’m just interested…’

‘You drag me in here on a Sunday, my first fucking Sunday off in three months, to ask me that? Is that your best fucking question Mr Hunter?’ he says, standing up -

‘Sit down,’ I say. ‘And don’t fucking try this on me.’

‘Try what?’

‘You sit down and you hear me out.’

He’s staring at me, my heart fucking pounding -

‘Superintendent,’ I say, nodding at the chair -

He sits down.

‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘Now, I’d like to know about the differences in the styles of the various operations, if you don’t mind.’

Prentice coughs and says: ‘Everything was different, yeah? I mean, you’ve got to remember this was five years ago, much smaller inquiry.’

‘Who put them together?’

‘Campbell and Richards?’

I nod.

‘Maurice did, but it was obvious minute we saw her.’

Murphy: ‘Richards?’

He nods: ‘But we didn’t have Preston in. Not Strachan at this stage.’

Me: ‘And when was that then?’

‘77, after the blood tests and the letters,’ says Alderman, smiling: ‘Like you don’t know.’

‘You’d been over there though? In 76?’

‘Not us personally, but we’d sent people over and they’d sent some of their lot here.’

‘John Rudkin and Bob Craven right?’

Alderman shrugs: ‘In 75?’

I nod.

‘Sounds right,’ he says. ‘But we’ve been back and forth across them sodding Moors so many times, you tell us; you’re one with it all written down in front of you.’

Ignoring him: ‘So then Rudkin and Bob Fraser went back in 77?’

Prentice nods.

Me: ‘But by this time it’s George and Pete Noble?’

They’re both nodding.

‘Prostitute Murder Squad?’

‘Yes,’ says Prentice.

I ask him: ‘So Strachan was in and out for quite some time?’

‘Initially, yeah.’

‘And that’s also been true of a number of the other murders and attacks?’

‘Like who?’ says Alderman.

‘Well, Strachan, Janice Ryan, Liz McQueen, Tracey Livingston?’

Alderman smiles: ‘Well you’d have to ask John here about Liz McQueen.’

‘Thanks,’ says Murphy.

‘No offence, mate,’ says Alderman. ‘But that was you, not us.’

‘And,’ I continue. ‘There are a number of other murders and assaults that at one time or another have been linked to the inquiry and are now considered separate.’

Alderman: ‘Like who?’

I flick forward: ‘Vera Megson, Bradford, February 1975; Rachel Vaughan, Leeds, March 1977; Debbie Evans, Shipley, also 1977?’

‘What about Mary Wilkie?’ asks Alderman.

‘What about her?’

‘Prostitute, battered to death by Leeds Cathedral in 1970.’

‘April ninth,’ I say and look at him, waiting -

‘Unsolved,’ he says.

‘Like all the others,’ I say.

Him: ‘So what’s your point?’

‘My point is, what’s in and what’s not and who decides?’

There’s silence again, silence until Prentice sighs and says: ‘Any murder or assault of a woman in the North of England has to go through here. You know that.’

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I know that.’

‘So,’ grins Alderman. ‘You want me and Jim to go through every fucking unsolved murder in Yorkshire?’

‘A lot are there?’ winks Murphy.

Alderman ignores him, but the grin’s gone: ‘And you want us to tell you why or why they’re not Ripper cases?’

‘Not every one,’ I say. ‘Just one.’

Silence -

Then: ‘Just Janice Ryan.’

Bull’s eye -

Eye to eye with Alderman across the table -

Hate, naked fucking hate -

You could cut it with a knife, the fucking hate in this room -