Promises to a Monster

CHAPTER 1: Monsters

From the GUOC truths about crime:

"Anger and fear are not opposites, they are the safety barriers of humane sanity; go overboard of either and you can end up with your hopes of rescue disappearing beyond your horizon, just like floating dream ships deserting a sinking rat."

Included in my (laptop) Thesaurus, there are two definitions for a Monster, the first is a Fiend the second is an Ogre. However, since the animated film versions of ‘Shrek’ appeared, it has, of course, become very difficult to associate the name Ogre with … very … nasty things.

So perhaps, the definitions of a fiend are more applicable, and they are as follows: an evil person, a brute, a beast, a cruel person, a wicked person, or a wrongdoer. On the other hand, the term wrongdoer can often seem a relative term. What may be seen as a minor wrong, or even a major moral right to an offender, may be seen and felt as a major offence to a victim. And as for the meaning of moral, we could spend the rest of the book, and many others, moralizing about such definitions, but we won’t. Instead, we will turn to an alternative meaning of ‘wrong,’ and its meaning is defined as a … mistake … which, for the purposes of this story, embodies the essence of any crime, in that it will be motivated by the mistake of choosing to believe in its sometimes outrageous, sometimes subtle, but always central … lie.

So, returning to the definition of a monster, well, then obviously, a monster is a person whose belief in a monstrous lie leads them to make a monstrous mistake.

However, being who they are, it is in the deceived mind and grubby heart of a criminal to randomly allot the destructive consequences of their monstrous mistakes to a wide variety of other people. Unfortunately, the majority of all this post-crime carnage ends up on the doorsteps of the families, friends, and neighbours of the various victims, of the various monsters.

On a more personal level, unless you (dear reader) have had an experience of having to deal with this post-crime carnage, it can be difficult to either quantify or qualify the pervasive cost of receiving such parcels of purgatory. Nevertheless, if you can imagine yourself waking up every day, and having to sign for a (monster) parcel of crap on your doorstep, then rest assured, you’ll be on the way to understanding the quality of crime.

Now, if you can further imagine what you’d feel like if you also found that you had little choice but to pay for the postage as well … then rest assured, you’ll be even more qualified to quantify the cost. As for the cost to the direct victims of the murders, physical and sexual abuses, and other numerous daily crimes … well, let’s not open that package just yet.

Mind you, if a relative or friend of a victim were somehow to slip into the prison cell of the monster who committed the crime (presuming the monster had been caught, of course), then many (though not all) may well end up behaving like a monster themselves. And let’s face it, who amongst us could (wholeheartedly) criticize them for behaving so? After all, if you, dear reader, held such a potential opportunity in your quivering hands, would there be any other place or thing that you would prefer to be or be doing … apart from the obvious, that is?

The obvious other place, of course, would be to be somehow conjured to a time before the crime was to be committed, and the doing would be to prevent the criminal from wanting to do the crime at all. But then, of course, that is what this story is about.

CHAPTER 2: The GUOC’s Promise.

(From the GUOC truths about crime)

Committing a crime is like trying to get rid of a nasty dose of flu, by sneezing it onto other people.

It started as a joke, then it became serious, and now it is the law.

The place: England.

The time is full of ticking moral dilemmas for David Bell, who two years earlier had lost the love of his wife Claire; after the two of them had tried illegal ways of gaining justice for the tragic drug-related death of their daughter, Lucy. However, after learning from his tragic mistakes, David Bell set out to deal with the causes and consequences of crime, not only upon the victims but upon the criminals as well.

Initially, to try his hand at getting an idea of getting anything legalized, David proposed the Nice-Day-Week, which would create a new official, once a year, weeklong holiday from crime. The holiday was to, Actively celebrate being nice to anyone who happened to be around.

The controversial second part of the Nice-Day-Week bill, was the proposal to introduce a legal statute that would treble the normal prison sentence, or any non-custodial tariff, for anyone committing a crime during Nice-Day-Week. Although the bill drew a lot of public support at the time, and despite an amendment to merely double rather than treble any deserving penalties, it was eventually rejected on the grounds of Human Rights.

Nevertheless, David Bell’s moral dilemma and persistence were to be tested much further by his proposal for an advice/help phone line for giving up on crime. Originally, the helpline was to be called The Wrong School, but it was finally named GUOC. The helpline was originally dreamed up by his wife Claire and himself but got side-tracked in their quest for revenge/reform against the heroin suppliers, who in all but name, had murdered Lucy.

In essence, the GUOC’s Advice/Help Line would be for anyone who wished to speak openly, and anonymously, about any crime he or she has already committed or is thinking about committing. It would be somewhat similar to Victim Support - except that it’s for the victimizers. Its purpose is to offer advice to any caller about the truth of a crime (as opposed to his or her lie-filled fantasized version), so that he or she may be persuaded not to commit the intended crime.

However, the important but controversial part of this proposal was, in essence, its Confidentiality Code: That any Crime Advisor/Negotiator who is, or was, working for the GUOC’s Crime Advice-line, will be legally protected against being prosecuted (in any criminal or civil court), for refusing to divulge any information about any past or intended crime that has been revealed by any caller during a crime advice-line session, no matter what the crime – or even if an intended victim’s identity had been revealed.

Without a doubt, the advice line itself, could not fully work without its Confidentiality Code which promised legal anonymity for all callers. David Bell’s reasoning behind offering complete anonymity to any potential criminal phoning the advice-line (no matter what their past or intended crimes) was: "Refusing such an opportunity to potential offenders is like denying a condemned criminal a last educated wish before he or she commits themselves and any victims to the crime."

Nevertheless, after David Bell overcame a sometimes near manic legal and social opposition, the GUOC Statuary Rights to Anonymity Bill became law in England. As to the arguments, both for and against having a GUOC’s style advice service for potential criminals (and for their concerned families, friends, neighbours, etc.), then that (dear reader) is for you to judge.

When asked how it was that he even hoped to gain legal protection for the GUOC’s Code of Anonymity, David Bell quoted in a written reply, two of his favourite principles on conflict and success. Bell’s quote on conflict was:

Sometimes, the most telling thing that can be fitted in between an immovable obstacle and an unstoppable force, is a question mark.

On the subject of success, the answer was:

Charity may help you onto the foot of the ladder to success, and competition may well get you to the top, but sooner or later, we will need the willing hands of mutual enlightenment to move the dammed ladder to where we really need it. P.S. Enjoy the view.

However, probably the most, poetically-just, way to get a feeling for the creation of the GUOC Chat-line, is in the way that David once described it, and being a pursuer of poetry, he (predictably) describes it in a partially poetical format.

The calling: He sits. He sits in a chair and stares, like a desperate man risking all that he cares. He stares out and beyond his bedroom window whilst watching the lights of the town twinkle and glow. The lights seem to call him, as to what they call him for, he thinks he already knows. He sits, like an off-stage actor waiting for his entrance cue, hoping his well-rehearsed lines will feel dramatic and new, in a play he has already written … but others will improvise. Now his audience seems to call him. As to what they will call him … he already knows.

Bell then goes on to explain, The sitting man is not a real person, but just an illustration of a man I once saw on a page in an old book, many years ago. The book was written long before the introduction of mobile phones or the Internet. I think, the book was about a real murderer. I was young, and he was the first murderer I had met" so to speak. Before that, I thought that murderers were like goblins, dragons, or monsters … not really, real. It was the sort of meeting I would not forget. On that page of the old book, some joker had drawn a speech bubble coming out of the sitting man’s mouth. In the bubble, the wag had written:

Will I get a longer prison sentence if I murder on the Sabbath Sunday?

Bell then continues: Maybe the man is still sitting there, waiting in between the yellowing pages, in some dusty-shelved bookshop. Of course, now that I am of a wiser age I think, I now know what he is waiting for.

If I found that book now, I would photocopy the page and slip the new page in, as a sort of … latecomer. However, before doing so, I would draw a mobile phone; one of those with a combined earpiece, the earpiece would already be connected into his ear. Coming directly out of the earpiece, I would draw a large speech bubble, and inside the bubble, I would write:

Hello, you have reached GUOC; this is a confidential advice line for anyone who wishes to talk about any crime they are thinking of committing.

Bell then goes on to explain: What and why the sitting man would do next is open to debate and would certainly require even more inserted pages. For example, it would not be easy being a GUOC Advisor-negotiator; knowing that you could prevent a crime; by disclosing the villain’s dastardly plot to the police, but self-committing yourself not to do so, in the hope that the confidential, shared common risk, will lead to a shared common sense. But then again, what villain will risk all, by sharing a stage with someone who is not prepared to share some of the risks? Or to put it another way, what villain would share the stage with some who is prepared to share that risk?

Yours hopefully, David Bell.

Just over two years after its initial creation, the legally protected ‘GUOC’ confidential chat-line, along with its less confidential, open website, went online. The chat-line offered a one-to-one service for those wanting a more personal verbal contact, as well as a more accessible service - it was also aimed at the considerable number of habitual criminals who have reading difficulties.

Bell took the first call himself, the caller wanted to know if she could be arrested for not telling the police that her boyfriend (acting alone) had burgled her parent’s flat.

However, (dearest reader), let us not bother with such details for now. Instead, let us leave Bell and his reasoning, and go to the larger theatre of this story where we will be wafted to different times and places. Though we will have to hurry, for the stage is set and all the players are already backstage, calmly waiting, or pacing back and forth, whilst others just sit and stare far beyond, waiting in respectful silence; for the audience is already … hushed … quickly now … I see the curtain rising - yet there is still just time to slip a late-comer in.

Now the villain and hero are entering (the hero stage right – the villain stage left) and … Oh! By the way, (dear reader), please make sure that your mobile phone is continually turned on, throughout this particular performance tonight.

We start with the premise, that real monsters are never born bad (no one is), and although the incurably idealistic amongst us may well insist that "we are all, in our way, born perfect," it is equally (and sadly) the case that no one ever remains so. However, let us not dwell on such fanciful thoughts about monsters, for they are only playing with the idea of facing up to a monster. Instead, let us go to a real playground – and play with a real monster.

Of course, it may be more dramatically exciting to ignore Steven’s (our young monster) innocent years completely and go straight onto his adult crimes. However, that would be editing Steven, in the same way as he edits the value of other peoples’ lives. So perhaps the most convenient time for a short tour of his world is probably when it and he were more innocent.

CHAPTER 3: Playing with Monsters

(From the GUOC truths about crime)

Anyone can be big enough to be a bully, but your true measurement is, are you be big enough to stop yourself from becoming one (apparently, size does matter).

It is Steven’s first day at his new school. It is playtime, and 12-year-old, friendless, Steven is standing like some leaf-less tree in the corner of the playground. In an attempt to draw some much-needed courage, young Steven briefly daydreams. He is daydreaming of leaving a wake of whispering wonderment; as he sweeps through a paparazzi packed and cheering crowd, and then takes his seat in his private balcony box at his already Oscar-nominated, film premiere.

Crossing the school playground, and with the admiring crowd, swarming paparazzi (and of course, his astonishingly beautiful girlfriend) still inside young Steven’s head, he saunters up to a circle of friendly boys and girls who in turn, are talking and laughing together.

Young Steven doesn’t like being outside the circle, instead, he wants to be in the centre of the circle, commanding attention, and admiration. However, to Steven, the centre of attention also means a yawning dark hole of possible ridicule – into which his lack of social skills may barge him into, at any given blunder.

Unfortunately, young Steven is too inexperienced to understand that he could also find happiness by being part of the circle. Because by being part of the circle, the nasty hole in the centre can seem fulfilled.

It isn’t so much that Steven is acting excessively strange that causes the circle of children to pause … it is more to do with him just standing there, doing, and saying nothing, even when some of the (nicer) children smile at him.

Of course, if he could realize the mutual benefits of so-called small talk Steven would certainly, probably, maybe … when the time seems right, make some initial attempt at thawing the fast-forming social ice barrier, which he feels is rapidly freezing him out. For instance, he could share something that he likes or had noticed. Unfortunately, he is too inexperienced to realize that often, the more he shares with others then the more likely that others will want to share with him. Unfortunately, he is also a tad too inexperienced to notice that some of the other boys and girls are just like himself, being a tad awkward and quiet too.

However, young Steven is no quitter, and so after standing there for a few minutes, he bravely decides to try to break the ice, or at least to try and thaw it a bit, by doing his party piece!

Since he was around six years old, Steven had found out that he could roughly impersonate other people’s voices and actions. Although in truth, he isn’t a natural impersonator, he is good enough to (usually) earn applause from his parents and friends.

Having picked his target; the most talkative boy in the group, Steven launches into his impersonation by repeating word for word what the boy had just said. It is a fair imitation, and his efforts gain quite a few congratulatory smiles and even grins from within the group. However, the boy he had just mimicked is far from pleased; he thinks that Steven is trying to make fun of him.

"What do you think you’re doing?’ the boy challenges; none too politely.

Immediately, all smiles within the group disappear and Steven is blushing profusely (as he feels himself being irresistibly pushed toward … the nasty hole).

I’m sorry, Steven apologizes, I was just trying to …?

He was trying to sound like you, one of the other children interject.

To Steven’s confusion, the boy he had tried to imitate, steps forward, stares him down, and then demands, Who do you think you are? What’s your fucking name anyway?

Steven, Steven replies, as he feels the hole not only rapidly deepening; but curiously, become more inviting.

Well, Steven, the boy snarls, "you don’t sound like me at all. Besides, what do you want to sound like me for anyway, Steven? Don’t you have any personality of your own?"

Stepping back, the boy immediately points at Steven, laughs to the other children, and shouts out, "Look, everyone, he doesn’t have any personality … he’s a nobody! Then turning to his audience as if he has just had a brain wave, he exclaims, Look, everyone, here’s Steven … Nobody!"

To Steven, as he stands there saying nothing, it seems as if most, if not all of the group are laughing at him; whilst he vainly hopes that it will all die down and soon be forgotten. It was, of course, not forgotten, what is more, Steven was nicknamed Nobody by his school peers for the rest of his school days.

To make matters worse, the boy who originally nicknamed him went on to achieve success in popularity, athletics, and in academic exams; whilst Steven went on to develop a growing streak of jealousy for anyone who, in his opinion, had achieved undeserved … success.

Back in the playground, the highly embarrassed (and angry) Steven is glad to see the teacher calling a premature end to playtime as the rain starts to fall. Even at that late stage, it might have helped Steven to join the group if he had commented on the rain; so, the other children could shelter under his temporary social umbrella. However, even though he is thinking of saying, "Fuck this for a playtime, I’m going in!" he just doesn’t want to make such an unguarded offer, but then again, such an offer may not have made the slightest bit of difference.

Nevertheless, regardless of the past, time flies, and we longer need to dwell in such places. Since his childhood, Steven has gradually created a complete and utter world of his own. Complete, in the sense that he believes and feels that the emotional demands of others are an unnecessary intrusion into his world, and therefore are an invasion upon his world. And, utter, in the sense, that he has become utterly mad, sad, and … very bad.

In Steven’s adult world, there has been an escalating, self-attracting conflict between the outer world and his world. In the outer world, he has developed a ruthless crusade to save his daily life from invasion by the pious demands of the bland (or the bland demands of the pious). Whilst in his inner world, he has nurtured an acute jealousy of anyone who has achieved prominence and success. Moreover, for the latter part of his recent adult life, the moral gravity of both worlds have been tugging at each other at an alarming and dangerously accelerating rate, which all means, that it will not be very long before both worlds collide. It is a situation that would have both appalled and surprised his parents (had they still been alive), nevertheless, like Steven, we need not spend any more time with his parents.

It is now twenty years after the playground incident, and the now 32-year-old Steven stands friendless and umbrella-less under a tree that is drip-drop-dripping with rain in an (almost) deserted park.

In an attempt to draw in some much-needed cowardice (for by this time Steven is aware that such a motivation is a key part of what he is about to attempt), he briefly thinks about how it could all change. He is fantasizing about leaving a wake of whispering wonderment as he is swept through a horrified, jeering crowd, toward the security of his reserved courtroom dock at his media studded premiere appearance at the Central Criminal Courts of the world-renowned Old Bailey. Not that he wants to be caught for what he is about to do; but if he is, then at least his achievements should bear the symbols of success.

Meanwhile, back in the real world of the almost deserted park, the lone woman is hurriedly walking toward the park gate. As she draws near to Steven, she seems to be increasingly nervous. It isn’t so much that Steven looks strange, it is more that he is just standing there, doing, and saying nothing, even as she briefly smiles at him.

If … Steven smiles or maybe waves back, or just mockingly shrugs his shoulders at the rain that falls on the both of them, the woman will probably smile with him, and both will go on their ways, comforted by their shared moment of mutual helplessness. Sadly, however, Steven does not offer any such social umbrella, to either the woman or himself as he quickly moves out from beneath the tree, and the now plainly nervous woman quickens her pace even more. Maybe if even at this late stage, Steven notices that the woman is wearing a navy-blue woollen jumper, he might ask himself, Who chose it and why? However, Steven does not ask such a question.

If Steven does ask such a question he will be, in part, be unknowingly performing a future GUOC’s exercise, called The M.E. exercise.

M.E. is shorthand for Motivational Empathy, a GUOC’s recommended exercise to encourage a real-time change of motivation, from potential offending into not offending. The exercise can be very useful because the tools of the exercise (i.e., the clothing, belongings, or lifestyle of the intended victim) are there at the very time that the potential offender is either in a real-time crime situation or fantasizing about one.

Even as he moves out further, maybe, if Steven notices that the now, plainly fearful woman is wearing a matching sky-blue woolly hat and scarf, he might ask himself, Were they a birthday present from someone, or perhaps she bought it herself to look nice, and feel warm and protected, or even uplifted against the chill autumn wind?

Maybe, if Steven starts to wonder about such questions, he will go on to wonder, Who are the others in her life, are they good or bad people, warm or cold people? But Steven hardly notices the woman’s scarf, hat, or jumper, and sadly, he isn’t wondering about her friends or her life. However, Steven hardly notices the woman at all, not the real woman, the full-length woman, with her hopes, her fears, her plans, her friends, her strengths, her vulnerabilities, her sadness, and, of course, her gladness.

For if he reflects on these things, he might also recognize many of his hopes, fears, strengths, and vulnerabilities – being mirrored back at himself. And in such a last-minute reflection, he might well discover some empathy for both the woman and himself and even some mutual respect. However, as he rushes toward the now terrified woman, Steven does not ask such questions about her or himself, as all he visualizes is yet another distorted reflection of himself.

After being victimized by such a crime, Ruth, the woman who Steven assaulted, did, in part, become a version of her attacker. After being attacked, Ruth also sank into an emotional quagmire of fear, self-doubt, self-delusion, and paranoia, from which no sky-blue scarf could pull her from.

Indeed, to those who knew her, Ruth seemed to be another person altogether. Although her family and friends did try their very best to, Pull her out of it! the Ruth of old became more and more swallowed up. Yet, in an attempt to protect her family and friends from being drawn into her deepening quagmire, she began to desperately shun her family and friends.

Ruth became a loner, and even her children could not help her; nor could she help them. At 9 years old, Reginald, Ruth’s oldest child, became confused, angry, and frightened about her, himself, and the world.

Neither Ruth nor Reginald recovered from the damaging effects of Steven’s attack. Even at Reginald’s school Open Day, he and Ruth just stand beside a small friendly crowd of parents who are talking about things like The old school seeming to be smaller,’ and about how their child had done their very best."

Nevertheless, neither Ruth nor Reginald joins in any of the small-talk, instead, the two of them just stand beside each other in the corner of the playground; like a pair of leafless trees.

As it happened, Steven had not paid much detailed attention to what had happened with Ruth in the park that day, mainly because he was unusually drunk. Not that being drunk and violent was a new experience for him. However, he would not blame the demon drink. As far as he was concerned (which was not that far), he would say that alcohol just made him act more recklessly than usual. Others may argue that having a hair-trigger temper was one thing, but it was another matter entirely when he knowingly put the safety-catch of sobriety, into the insolent position of "Fuck off!"

However, even though the opinion of others had little influence on Steven’s attitudes, the fact that he became careless and sloppy when drunk, did cause him to give up drinking alcohol, some six months after the assault on Ruth. What is more, his abstinence may go some way to explaining how, when it came to Steven’s first murder; he was not only stone-cold sober, but he would also be able to recall the whole incident, in detail, for many years to come.

Except, as far as Steven was concerned, the so-called murder of Mary and her stupid dog had been a clear case of self-defence. He had been quite innocently walking through a lesser-used part of Hampstead Heath on that summer filled afternoon. Suddenly, and without any provocation on Steven’s part, a young Alsatian dog, despite still being held by its lead, started to attack Steven’s ankles. With his back to a ditch, Steven tries to shoo! the hound away, but that only seems to encourage it to attack even more. In the meantime, instead of pulling the dog back by its lead, the dog’s owner, Mary, just shouts at it to stop.

Attempting to restrain himself and the dog’s assault, Steven tries using his right foot to forcefully push rather than kick, the stupid animal away. Then, to Steven’s outraged disbelief, instead of trying to apologize for her dog’s behaviour, the woman not only shouts at him, but she also strikes him across the face with the other end of the dog lead; for kicking her dog - who egged on by his mistress’s attack, bites Steven on his left ankle so severely, that the bite draws blood.

The unwarranted assault is far too much for Steven’s sense of fair play. Therefore, in a fit of moral rage, he punches the attacking dog in the head – and although Steven’s punch is not meant to be lethal - it is immediate and obvious that as the wide-eyed Wolfie collapses onto the ground, the blow has indeed been fatal.

Upon realizing what he had done, Steven immediately becomes agonisingly remorseful. However, the dog’s owner, Mary, becomes outraged as she plunges her quivering hand into the side pocket of her olive green and white striped cotton jacket, and pulls her mobile phone out in an attempt to call the police.

It takes Steven about three-quarters of a second to realize that he would be the one who would be painted as the "wrongdoer!" It then takes another two seconds to further realize that he, the woman, and the now-dead dog are the only ones in that particularly wooded area of the heath.

It then takes Steven, motivated by peaks of anger and fear, several frustratingly long minutes to use the dog leash to strangle the struggling Mary, to death - a task that is unintentionally hampered by the dead weight of poor dead Wolfie, who is still firmly attached to the other end of the leash.

In truth, and despite the distressing experience of being attacked by the woman (and her dog), Steven feels remorseful about killing them. Therefore (and even though he feared that he still might be suddenly discovered) he took the time to reverently place the dead dog onto the dead woman’s chest. It was a gesture, Steven judged, that both the woman and her dog would have appreciated.

After making sure that the woman and the dog looked comparatively respectful, Steven left the scene. He then left the heath as quickly and unobtrusively as possible, taking the woman’s gloves and the dog’s lead with him. Steven took the items to avoid leaving any of his fingerprints or DNA at the crime scene. Although, as far the latter was concerned, he would be shocked to discover, many years later (from the then Detective Sergeant, later to become, Chief Inspector Miles Rupert), that his efforts at removing all the evidence had been flawed by the dogged pursuit of a future cold-case forensics team. However, when he did eventually discover the flaw in his escape plan, Steven will be far more consumed - with achieving success in his pride inducing quest, to break the GUOC’s strict code of anonymity for all callers.

CHAPTER 4: Sandra’s Special Little Secret.

From the GUOC truths about crime:

"Being good can be a real drag sometimes - but kind of handy if you’re hurtling down a slippery slope."

The time and place are cold. It is mid-winter in the U.S.A. So far, GUOC has yet to be created in England, let alone introduced to America. Nevertheless, one