It’s one of the more
famous mugshots in the world – a sullen looking peroxide blonde with mascaraed
eyes, glaring at the world, her eyes devoid of emotion. Or is she wearied, the
lack of expression due to exhaustion? The woman is Myra Hindley, who with her
boyfriend Ian Brady murdered at least five victims, including children, after
torturing and raping some of them, between 1963 and 1965. At least one victim
is yet to be found, still buried on the moors.
For many, Hindley was
the picture of evil. We will never know to what extent she participated in the
murders themselves – Brady and Hindley’s testimony conflicts on this point –
but we know she lured the children into the car, was present at the torture of
Lesley Ann Warren and watched while Brady swung a hatchet into the head of
Edward Evans, their final victim. Brady never denied his activities, once
convicted, but it was Hindley who received the lion’s share of the public
oppobrium and hatred.
There are a number of
reasons for this. That a woman could participate in such activity was much more
shocking than a man. But as Carol Ann Lee discusses in her book One of your own: The life and death of Myra Hindley, it was Hindley who kept her name in the public eye, who claimed
innnocence, who made public criticism of the parents of her victims, and who
seemed to completely misunderstand the public conception of her and her crimes.
Despite high profile supporters, her reception into Catholic Church and
continued application for parole, Hindley died in prison, unforgiven by society.
Ian Brady, who never applied for parole, is still in prison, currently fighting
to prove himself sane, so as to give himself the capacity to suicide. The
families of their victims still suffer, fifty years on.
What makes someone a
genius is a mystery. So is what makes someone evil. There is no particular
reason why Hindley turned out the way she did. She had a brutal childhood, but
as even she admitted, no more brutal than that experienced by most children in
her neighborhood. Brady’s upbringing too was uncoventional but provides no
explanation. Both were intelligent and enjoyed poetry and classical music. They
were aspirational, yearing to escape their working class origins. Look as you
might, there is no clue, no ‘ah-hah’ moment, to explain Brady’s yearning to
hurt children and Hindley’s willingness to help him.
It’s entirely possible
that if Brady and Hindley had never met, then neither would have participated
in any such activites. Hindley’s defenders claim she was under his spell,
enthralled to a charismatic psycho. She claimed to be afraid he would hurt her
family if he did not go along. But these explanations pale against her actiions
both during the murders and after. She did not claim remorse, but rather
innocence. Innocence! As if she bore no repsonsiblity for her actions. She
wondered in public why the families of her victims were so unforgiving. In a private letter, she suggested one
mother should ‘get a brain transplant.’
This 2010 book is as
dispassionate a book as you could hope to find on the subject. It tells the
story clearly and investigates the murder and the mistreatement of the victims
unsensationally. Lee presents Hindley’s version of events, but also Brady’s
where they conflict and the story as suggested by the evidence. She captures
the pain of the families and the police involved in the investigation, and its
lasting effect.
Was Hindley
rehabilitated? Could this woman have been allowed back on the street without
fear? But who would dare take that chance? It was Graham Greene who wrote of
the strangeness of the mercy of God. Perhaps God forgave Myra Hindley, as she
liked to think Being neither fundamentalist nor atheist, I don’t claim to know
how God thinks. But I cannot blame those who could not bear the thought of Myra
Hindley enjoying one day of freedom, after what she did to their brother, their
sister, their daughter, their son. If there is an unforgiveable sin, it is
hurting a child.
