1980

no choice misled by a voice release of drury arouses fury preston was not me but just you wait and see Sheffield will not be missed next on the list my nails already dead of colour this exegesis complete and illuminated e stand upon souls fixed under ice some bent head to foot shaped like bows the distorted jackknife postures their bras pushed up now the time has come this the place where no light is e cannot write e cannot tell memory and vocabulary not enough here neither dead nor alive before the king of the vast kingdom of grief once as fair as he is now foul all grief springs from him one head wearing three faces one red one white one blue beneath which two mighty wings stretch out not feathered wings but like the ones you would expect a bat to have and he flaps them constantly keeping three winds continuously in motion saying over and over and over again and again and again this is the world now containing approximately five pounds in cash all this and heaven too missing from the deceaseds handbag one edge sharper than the other this is the world now the weather letting us down again and again and again in a yorkshire way he says this is the world now this is the world now this is the world now this is the world we be

Chapter 21

New Year’s Eve, 1980:

Dawn or dusk, it’s all fucked up -

The End of the World -

Fucked up and running -

Running from Dewsbury Police Station -

Dewsbury Police Station -

Modern lies amongst the black -

Crowds gathering -

Posters out:

The Ripper is a Coward -

Defaced:

Hang him!

The homemade nooses, the studded wristbands -

The skinheads and their mums, the mohicans and their nans.

Running to the car park up the road from the police station, puddles of rain water and motor oil underfoot -

The car park already full -

Journalists, TV crews, the word spread -

Birds overhead, screaming -

Rain pouring -

The clouds black above us, the hills darker still -

Hills of hard houses, bleak times -

Warehouse eyes, mill stares -

Unlocking the door, running -

Engine running, running scared -

The North after the bomb -

Murder and lies, lies and murder -

War.

Ml into Leeds -

Radio on:

‘A Bradford man will appear before Dewsbury magistrates later this afternoon in connection with the murder of Laureen Bell in Leeds on December 10. The man was arrested by officers in Sheffield on Sunday night in connection with the theft of some car number plates. A jubilant Chief Constable Ronald Angus told reporters:

‘“This man is now being detained in West Yorkshire, and he is being questioned in relation to the Yorkshire Ripper murders. He will appear before Dewsbury magistrates later today. We are all absolutely delighted, totally delighted with the developments at this stage. The officers who detained the man in Sheffield were outstanding police officers; these lads are real heroes, who have my heartfelt thanks. They did a wonderful job. We know the girl the man was with when he was arrested and she’s very lucky indeed. She could easily have been his next victim.”

‘When asked if the hunt for the Yorkshire Ripper was now over, Chief Constable Angus said:

‘“You are right. The hunt for the Ripper is being scaled down.”

‘Meanwhile a crowd of almost 4000 people has already gathered outside Dewsbury Town Hall in the hope of catching a glimpse of the man whose five-year reign has brought terror to the streets of every Northern city. A reign that would now appear to be at an end.’

Radio off, thinking -

What looks like morning, it is the beginning of the endless night.

Leeds, fucking Leeds:

Medieval, Victorian, Concrete fucking Leeds -

Decay, murder, hell -

Dead city:

Just the crows and the rain -

The Ripper gone -

The crows and the rain, his meat-picked bones -

Leeds, fucking Leeds -

The King is dead, long live the King.

I park under the dark arches with the water and the rats -

Out of the car, coat up -

Running up through the arches, past the Scarborough -

Into the Griffin -

Ringing the bell, waiting -

Fuck it -

Snatching the key from behind the desk -

Into the lift -

Pressing 7 -

1,2,3,4,5,6 -

Out of the lift -

Down the corridor -

Tripping -

On the dark stair, we miss our step:

Room 77 -

Key in the door -

Into the room -

Checking my watch, radio on, picking up the phone, getting a dialling tone, pulling the numbers round -

Ringing, ringing -

‘Joan?’