Catalyst (23 page)

David remained silent, taking on board Jo's comments.

“Or,” she went on, “it could be that Deverall had told him all this about his mum before the time he was killed, and Lorimar just invented the thing about the death-bed promise to make it look better for him. But, I mean, on the one hand we've got three people who we'd expect to remember him but who say they don't; on the other hand we've got a history that checks out with current employer, his army record… ”

David held up his hand to stop her.

“Sorry, Jo, but I thought you were with me on this one. I understood that after you spoke on the phone to those three guys we both agreed there was something fishy about his statement.”

“We did, but that was weeks ago and to be honest, I've not really thought about it recently. We've picked up two big cases since then. I didn't realise you were still bothered about it either. I admit, from what you've just told me, there's a chance he isn't who he says he is, but why would he confess – or
nearly
confess – to a murder but not give his real name? Surely if you're going to lie, you give your correct name and say that you haven't done it; not the other way round. The question is, have we got the guy who killed the Bradys? If we have, a lot of the other stuff becomes sort of insignificant, doesn't it? Or am I missing something really obvious?”

David did not answer for a moment. Then he shook his head and sighed.

“I don't know, Jo, but what I do know – know for certain – is that we don't have the whole truth. I'm not clear what the process of law is if we convict somebody of murder and then find out afterwards that he's not who he says he is. Does he get off on a technicality, do you think? I've never heard the like before, but perhaps this guy knows something we don't. And you could be right. It seems he is definitely a loner, so he might have been really low profile compared to the other guys. Perhaps if I'd shown this photograph to either of the other two, they'd have said, ‘Oh, yes, that's old silent Lorimar; clean forgot about him. We used to call him the Invisible Man.'”

He sighed again.

“Anyway, I'm on holiday, for God's sake.” He stood up. “Let's get out of here.”

The following evening, George entered the lecture hall at the Business Centre in the Whitewell Commercial Park in Croydon at 7.20 pm, just a few minutes before he was due to be introduced by Henry Moorcroft, the national President of the 3AF. The rows of tiered seats were completely full, with a large number of people standing at the back of the room. George estimated there were 600 to 700 people in the audience.

As he stood to acknowledge the applause after the President's opening words, he checked his one cue card, which contained two quotes he was proposing to use.

“Thank you, Mr President, for that wonderful introduction,” he said, smiling at his host and then around the room. “I hardly recognised the person you were talking about. And thank you for inviting me here this evening. I see a couple of familiar faces out there. My wife, Irene, who is here to make sure I'm doing what I say I'm doing. And Mr Tony Dobson, who has been with me at all eight of the previous meetings over the past five weeks, including the first one at our local branch. So far he's always managed to stay awake right to the end, and his reporting of my speeches in such detail and with such an impressive circulation, has meant that I've had to change them every time.”

There was laughter around the room, and Tony smiled and nodded his appreciation at the mention of his name.

“We come together this evening to – I quote – ‘… consider one of the most important issues facing communities in the first quarter of the twenty-first century'. And that issue is whether the pursuit of justice is more important than compliance with the law. However, in all the meetings I have had so far with members of our organisation, in all parts of the country, that general question has been redefined as a much more specific one. Because if it were not for the dramatic events of eight weeks ago on the Cullen Field Estate in East London, we would not be here in this room tonight. What that terrifying incident has catalysed, particularly within
our
peer group in society” – he spread his arms to collectively embrace the people in the room – “is a fundamental appraisal of how we manage unlawful, disruptive and intimidating behaviour in today's communities. And the question, ‘Justice or Law', which has been the banner headline of this series of lectures, is no more than a loose, all-purpose derivative of that much more fundamental concern.

“Tomorrow, James Lorimar will be presented in court for the start of his trial. We do not know anything factual about this person, apart from his name, his occupation and his age. No photographs of him have been produced, nor details of his life and family background released. But it's what people
think
about him that makes this man already remarkable. I am not proposing to spend any time with you discussing whether Mr Lorimar, if he
did
commit this crime, is a hero or a villain. Each of you will have made up your mind on that by now. But whichever he is, I can tell you with absolute certainty that he has enriched the lives of a whole community by one single dramatic act of seemingly premeditated violence.

“And the reason I can tell you that with absolute certainty is that I am part of that community – at least I am now. We were separate communities before – an allegedly brutal estate, and a gentle geriatric village. Now we are happily married and probably still on honeymoon. I anticipate that the parties to this marriage will have their differences in the future, as in all such partnerships, but I believe that the bond between us is already strong enough to allow us to do so without spite and subsequent vendetta. One result of this solitary act has been the gelling of two substantially diverse groups of people into a single entity.

“But the main over-riding benefit has been the freeing of the population from their previous virtual imprisonment. And to my surprise – and that of everyone in Meadow Village – the Cullen Field estate with its appalling reputation was full of people exactly like us. Ordinary, unassuming people who just wanted a normal quiet life. As Tom Brown put it, ‘the challenge that we face, as your elected representatives, is to create this same effect, but within the boundaries of law and order. And we' – meaning Parliament – ‘need to do something different from what we are doing now to bring about this change.' Tony was there when he spoke those words” – he gestured towards the journalist – “and he reported them, in fact. Mr Brown was speaking to the people on the estate a few days after the killings and I know they took his words on board as a genuine commitment.

“So what was it, in simple terms, that this person did which has made such a difference? If we are to believe the accounts of the witnesses to the prelude of this crime, he identified the problem, singled out those responsible – very deliberately and publicly – then, having selected them, he removed them – permanently. And that last word is the crux of it all –
“Permanently!”

George banged his fist heavily on the table in front of him as he said the last word, his first show of real passion in the whole of his nine appearances. He appeared to be taken a little bit by surprise himself, as were the audience, the whole of which seemed to jump slightly, as a single object, in their seats.

“I have always been a champion of the death penalty. It makes perfect sense to me that, if a person chooses to take another one's life, they should expect no less than reciprocal treatment if he or she be caught. The finality of these consequences, I would argue, being a greater deterrent than a period of imprisonment – often disproportionately brief – after which the killer can emerge, still relatively young in many cases, to take the plaudits of his peers. The doomed Antisocial Behaviour Orders, mercifully discontinued some years ago, demonstrated the weakness – the idiocy, in fact – of a system whereby people who set out to create mayhem and fear are presented with a badge for doing so. The ASBO was, in effect, an achievement award, just like a swimming certificate. Ridiculous! Youngsters in many areas, as many of us will remember, were being shunned or actually attacked for not having succeeded in getting one.

“Such a structure of recognition, however, only works if you are able to display your trophy at some stage – immediately, if it's an ASBO, or later, if it's a prison sentence. Take away that opportunity and the trophy is irrelevant. If the reward for such crimes is permanent removal from the society whose laws and principles the perpetrators choose to reject, then such exploits become acts of self-destruction, rather than an investment, the return on which will be some kind of sick notoriety in the future.

“Removing people permanently from society as a proposed solution is not new; it is too simple and obvious to be regarded as innovative in any way. It already happens, but only in very exceptional cases and for the severest of crimes. But somehow it now seems to have more substance. Previously the whole concept was untested, in terms of both the treatment and the subsequent health of the patient. What we've now had is at least a peek at the latter. If you remove an irritation which is infecting the whole body, then the process of healing can be spectacularly fast. It can be argued – and indeed a large portion of the press has argued – that it is dangerous to use the example of this one incident on this one estate to draw any conclusions of statistical relevance. They are absolutely correct in making everyone aware of that. However, it is the best indicator we have with which to consider the way forward.

“The government has done conspicuously well over the past five years or so in putting in place every conceivable facility and opportunity for these gangs to pursue alternatives to their antisocial behaviour. It deserves our praise and thanks for those efforts, and a significant proportion of its target group have responded by giving up the streets. I also applaud those who have made that life change, because many will have done so whilst facing the might of peer pressure which I believe is the single most powerful shaper of behaviour in our society today. But what of the rest? Those who continue to ignore these opportunities in order to inflict a climate of social terror on their immediate neighbours and other residential areas. Those, in effect, who have no ambition or intention of being part of community life.

“The government are proposing to further invest in order to make more facilities available. I am sure that much cleverer men and women than me have decided that is the right thing to do. And, for all our sakes, I hope they're right. However, I personally doubt it, because I think they are addressing the wrong problem. On the evidence of the thousands of comments made to me over the past few weeks, what we want to know is what they intend to do about those who will
not
– not
ever
– change their behaviour.”

The applause was spontaneous and energetic. Several members of the press, though not joining in, nodded in agreement.

“It's interesting, isn't it, that these debates and discussions always seem to centre around what we should be doing for these thugs, these vandals, these low-lifes; what we need to put in place for
them,
how much we can afford to spend on
them.
What someone should be addressing is what they can do for
us.
The people who never do anything wrong; the ones who live within the law; the vast majority of nice, friendly people. Well, for a start, they can separate us from the others! Or, more accurately, keep the others away from us –
permanently!
”

When the applause died down, he played his highest trump card.

“If we – the section of the public represented by the age profile of the 3AF – have a mind to, I believe we can bring about that change in policy which will address
our
issues and
our
concerns. We are, by a considerable margin, the single largest category of voters in the electorate, and, if we can devise a mechanism – a process – for concerting our efforts, our opinions,
and
our votes, I reckon we can do just about anything we like!”