[excerpt from the police interviews]

Q: You requested that myself and Dave Tanner come into the room, is that right?

A: Yeah.

Q: And what was it that you told us?

A: That I killed James.

It was inconceivable: two ten-year-old schoolboys, accused of having abducted a soon-to-be three-year-old Liverpudlian toddler (whom neither boy knew) from a local shopping centre in Bootle, taking him on a 2 ½ mile journey across Liverpool, and then, as night fell, bludgeoning him into a half-conscious state and leaving him for dead.

Two days after James Bulger went missing, the child’s half-nude and severely mutilated body was discovered abandoned on a lonely stretch of sleepers in Walton. The forces of a passing train had severed James’s body in two, although he was believed to have died prior, the result of blunt force trauma to the head. Due to the multiple amounts of wounds James had suffered to his face and scull, the pathologist who later performed the postmortem examination found it impossible to determine the exact blow to have killed him.

In the days following James’s death, the people of Bootle were “shrouded in grief.” The whole of Britain (particularly those residing in Merseyside, where the gruesome crime had occurred) were both horrified and perplexed. How could such a thing have happened in their hometown?

By the following Wednesday, well-wishers and camera crews alike were already swarming in large crowds by the embankment, where hundreds and thousands of floral tributes were being left in James’s memory. But as miserable as everyone was over this heartrending tragedy, nowhere was it more evident than Bootle New Strand, where the toddler had first gone missing. Fuzzy teddy bears and other stuffed toys were being brought in by the carload, and floral wreaths decorated many a shop’s window.

Inside A.R. Tym’s, the butcher’s shop where James had last been seen before his disappearance, flowers embroidered a window display of freshly sliced pork. A sign, ‘This is our way of saying sorry and deepest sympathy to the parents of Little James,’ was set atop a sandwich board, in an effort to collect any and all charity donations for the Bulger family. When news first broke of the discovery of their son’s body that bitter winter morning, Ralph and Denise had received letters of condolences by the box-full.

“For us it’s like the shooting of JFK,” one of Ralph Bulger’s former schoolmates later said. “Everyone remembers where they were when they heard about it.” But the shocking brutality of James’s murder wasn’t the only horror his family would have to face. When police officers correctly identified his killers after a week of grueling inquiry and over 50 TIEs (trace, interview, eliminate), the Merseyside community was flabbergasted to learn the extraordinarily young ages of the two boys being charged. Why would two children, still so small themselves, murder another child in such a heinous fashion?

“I just don’t think that any of us will ever get over it: the violence done to the baby, the suffering of his parents and . . . well . . . the confrontations with the two boys,” Superintendent Albert Kirby (now retired), who led the investigation into the murder of James Bulger, later told lady journalist, Gitta Sereny, in a 1994 interview. “They were so . . . so small; they had these young, young voices,” he said, still sounding stunned. “When I looked at them the first time, I just thought ‘It's impossible’. . .”

It had been rumored that Neil Venables, the father of one of the boys responsible for the killing, had a penchant for horror films (a record of his past video rentals, later acquired by the Merseyside authorities, included such films as: Dolly Dearest, Child’s Play 2, Marked for Murder, Freddy 6, Stepfather 2, The Rain Killer, Halloween, Whore, Marked for Death and, most notoriously, Child’s Play 3) and would oftentimes take them out on his video membership card at Videoscene to watch after the children had gone up to bed. Neil strongly maintained, however, that his son had never been permitted to watch any of these violent videos, and that he, himself, only engaged in them while the children were away. But despite the fact that investigators had, on the day of the boys’ arrest, looked through Neil’s movie selection in search of anything conspicuous, and quickly dismissed the possibility that any video the boys might have seen could have possibly inspired them to commit such an act, Mr. Venables was consequently labeled by fellow Liverpudlians as a “pervert,” “horror addict,” or “porn buff.”

There was the popular theory that Jon had been influenced in some way, after viewing one of his father’s videos, Child’s Play 3. This speculative notion had came to light after police officers discovered a “bizarre coincidence” between a scene in the film (in which Chucky, the evil doll, is splattered in the face with Humbrol azure blue modeling paint, after a game of war ensues with paint guns) and the killing of James Bulger (whose face was also stained with Humbrol azure blue modeling paint, upon the discovery of his body). However, those who had been closely involved in the investigation wrote this off as “absolute bullocks.” Although Neil would later concede that it might well have been possible for Jon to have watched his father’s films in the early A.M. hours of the morning, while Neil slept, there was no conclusive evidence to suggest that either boy had seen the film. Thompson watched kids’ animations such as Bugs Bunny, Beauty and the Beast and Fievel Goes West, while Venables dreamed of the world becoming a giant chocolate factory like the one depicted in Roald Dahl's children's book, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, idolized computer icon, Sonic the Hedgehog, and was enthralled by The Goonies and Thunderbirds, both children’s fantasies.

The primary concern thereafter was that if it wasn’t the fault of any television obscenities, what was it that had prompted these two children, whose only prior misdemeanors were truancy and shoplifting, to bear such incredible hostility towards an innocent two-year-old? The death of a child, whatever the circumstances, is always the most tragic of misfortune and heartbreak, but James’s murder seemed as though it was set apart from the others, emboldened in some way, and in its own right, all the more devastating. For in this case, the killers had not been middle-aged madmen on murderous rampages, twisted elders, drunk behind the wheel, or child pedophiles whose mugshots we see weekly on the six o’clock news, but little boys, who had played truant from school that Friday morning and gone seeking after troll dolls and sweets. Desperate, if only for themselves, to explain away the magnitude of horror surrounding James’s death, the people came to a simpler reckoning: the age-old sentiment of innate evilness. To have brutally slain another with such hate and viciousness, and at such a youthful age (“the age of innocence”) these boys were surely the root to all evil. The headlines supported this belief, publicly deeming the boys as ‘evil,’ ‘bad seeds,’ ‘monsters,’ and ‘demons,’ and comparing them with the infamous Moors murderers, Myra Hindley and accomplice Ian Brady (this pair, back in the 1960s, brutally tortured and murdered a number of small children, and later buried their corpses on the moors above Manchester), and the nefarious terrorist, Saddam Hussein.

On 24 November, tried not in family court, but instead as adults in Preston Crown, the pair was convicted of James’s murder and sentenced to be detained at Her Majesty's Pleasure, indefinitely (the trial judge, Sir Justice Michael Morland, recommended a tariff of eight years, minimum. At the time of the offense, they were children; in eight years time, they would be young men, he stated). Both boys cracked under the weight of the charges, sobbing as the judge addressed them, calling their crime “an act of unparalleled evil and barbarity.” He ordered them to be detained for “very, very many years,” until it was believed that they no longer posed a threat to the general public. Outside of court, angry mobs gathered, baying for blood.“Murderous scum,” they screamed. “Hang them!”

In Sefton, back in February, when the boys had first been charged with the abduction and murder of James Bulger, several hundred people gathered outside the court, shouting abuse as they pummeled eggs and rocks at the police vans carrying the two boys. They tried, without success, to topple the vans into wreckage, beating them fiercely with their hands as they drove past. “He was terrified, literally terrified,” said Dominic Lloyd, solicitor for Robert Thompson, during an on-camera interview with Panorama. “There were shouts that he should be handed over, shouts that he should be strung up. I think that was the view of the outside world that he took with him into custody. It’s likely to have a lasting effect on his view of the outside world for some time yet.”

During the month of February 1993, Lawrence Lee was appointed Jon Venables’ solicitor, and stayed with the case for a little over a year following the boys’ conviction. “I looked out the window and I saw this baying mob outside and I thought, ‘Gosh, how can people of my city of Liverpool behave like this?’” he told Panorama anchorwoman, Jane Corbin, during that same broadcast. “And, it was as if rent-a-mob had arrived and they were throwing bricks at the police van. I can't condone the level of violence, but I can understand the anger. . .”

It was midmorning before Denise Bulger dressed her two-year-old son and walked with him the few blocks to her mother’s home, for their usual visit. Outdoors were dreary, but James was happy all the same, bundled up in his warm cotton coat. Denise came from a considerably large family, thus, her mother was never without the forgathering of kin passing through. As it happened, Nicola Bailey, the fiancée of Denise’s brother, Paul, was looking after his three-year-old niece that day. Nicola wanted to exchange some underwear she had purchased earlier in the week while clothes shopping, but because her vehicle was without a baby-seat, she would need for someone to take the back seat and mind the child while she drove.

When Denise learned that Nicola had been looking for someone to accompany her into the city, she was more than happy to volunteer her services. It was always nice to get out of the house for a bit, and James often had fun riding around in Nicola’s Ford Orion. They drove the couple of miles from Kirkby to Bootle New Strand, a popular shopping centre just outside of Walton, where they spent the afternoon browsing the various department stores. Later, as they prepared for the trip home, they decided to stop by A.R. Tym’s to purchase some meat slices.

By this time the children had become restless, and James began making a fuss. Denise, feeling self-conscious, picked him up as she waited to pay for her order, but James squirmed to get free. He was eager to explore these big, new surroundings. Because there wasn't much of a line behind the checkout counter, Denise let James go loose, believing him to be okay for only a moments time. Sadly, this was a decision that would come to haunt her every day thereafter.

Earlier that morning, two ten-year-old schoolmates, Robert Thompson and Jon Venables, opted to play truant from school and journeyed into the heart of Bootle, also in pursuit of the Strand. Liverpool’s younger generation found its sundry shops an easy target for theft, and children often went there to “pinch.” Indeed, this was what Robert and Jon had been doing the whole of the morning, before setting their sights on little James, snacking on a packet of Smarties candies immediately outside the butcher’s shop.

Robert, who was an adept at “skipping school” and well-known for thievery, readily taught Jon the ropes. It didn’t appear to make much of a difference what the boys stole. More often than not, they would discard of the items before leaving. The excitement was all about getting away with it. Sometimes they would overstep their boundaries and get caught, but those incidents paled in comparison to the times when they had succeeded in seizing their prize.

Usually it was something so trivial that no one, aside from the meticulous sales clerk, would have been likely to take heed in its absence. That day, they had taken a plastic wind-up figurine, some marking pens, candy bars, a couple cartons of yogurt, a troll doll, a packet of AA batteries, and a few small tins of Humbrol azure blue modeling paint. Nothing overly conspicuous...until the little boy went missing.

By 3:38 PM, Robert and Jon had hit all the shops in the Strand, and the place was beginning to lose its appeal. They were outside TJ Hughes (a favorite clothing outlet, where Nicola had last been to exchange her undergarments), pondering what to do next, when they took notice of a little boy. It was apparent that he was without adult supervision. Jon would later concede to the authorities that it had been his idea to approach the toddler, believing him to be “lost or something.”

Both boys stepped towards James, with Jon beckoning him to follow. "Come on, baby..." he called, alluringly. Without hesitation, the little boy raised his tiny hand in faith, and the three children left the precinct. James Bulger would not live to celebrate his third birthday.

In the midst of his mother’s panic, James was swinging contentedly in the arms of his abductors, all the while wholly unaware of the atrocities that awaited him. It is not unlikely that in his innocence, he looked upon Jon and Robert not as a threat, but as two big and captivating new friends. For the first while, James gave very little trouble, perhaps feeling secure in the knowledge that he was in the company of those older than he, even if they were strangers. Nonetheless, a little explorer can only venture so far before his interest wanes and his feet grow tired. James dragged his heels desperately, his wearied eyes beseeching for rest. “I want my mummy,” he cried.

Paying little mind to the toddler’s distressed state, Robert and Jon carried further on, to a nearby canal. “Let’s throw him in the water,” one of them suggested, prodding him toward the channel’s edge. This time, notwithstanding their efforts, James would not be enticed. Incited perhaps by his defiance, either boy lifted him up and dropped him headfirst onto the concrete. James, his forehead badly bruised, let out an earsplitting cry. Panicked, the boys raced up the embankment, leaving the frightened and bewildered toddler abandoned by the waterside, wailing.

This moment, had a kindly stranger’s worry prevailed, might well have led to James’s relinquishment; his despondent mother’s fear allayed by her child’s sweet embrace. But for Denise, this moment would not arrive. For Denise and her husband, the horrors would run on...

By evening’s end, some thirty-eight people had crossed paths with the two bigger boys, together with a smaller child: a fair-faced little blonde one, his big blue eyes wide with apprehension, his soft golden-brown locks matted beneath a hooded winter coat. Most, believing them to be brothers or relatives, elected not to raise question. To suspect anything maleficent from children of such a young age was extraordinary, suggested another townsman. Even after witnessing one of the older boys exert violence towards James, he did not feel this implied in any way that the toddler was being held against his will. “It’s usually grown-up fellas who do that kind of thing...”

Those who did challenge this assertion, the boys told they had discovered the toddler, left to himself, nearby:

“What's going on?”

“We’ve found him at the bottom of the hill...”

“Do you know him?”

“No...”

Despite their concerns, hesitant adults directed the boys to the nearest police station. One woman, herself the mother of a small child, felt particularly inclined to intervene. The little boy seemed frightened, and the boys weren’t being entirely forthcoming. Robert appeared on edge, briefly letting go of James’ hand, but Jon calmly resumed control, assuring the woman that they were taking the toddler to the police station near their Walton homes. “Are you sure you know the way?” she called, watching as the boys disappeared into the night.

Jon pointed a finger down a darkened road. “I'll go that way missus...”

“I was going to take the little boy to the police myself,” the woman later testified, dismally. “The little boy gave me his hands and I thought he was tired. I looked down and saw his little eyes...I managed to get my little girl to take his hand, but the taller boy said, ‘It’s all right. We’ll take the boy to the police station.’ The chubbier one grabbed the little boy again...”

Ironically, one of these witnesses turned out to be an acquaintance of Robert's mother, Ann Thompson, and would have been familiar with her boys. But because Robert’s face had been shrouded in part by the blackness of the hour, the man had unhappily failed to make the connection. As he reached the stretch between the railway line and his home, he noticed a trio of two small boys and a toddler just ahead. Concerned over the little boy’s disheveled state, he stopped, but his presentiments were quashed when Jon once again stepped into reins. Robert, who would later be depicted as the willful aggressor, remained quiet, perhaps recognizing the man as a friend of his mother’s.

Jon explained, in the soft-spoken words of a ten-year-old, that James was a little brother. It was a story which, in a community where young children were often saddled with the responsibility of caring for their younger siblings from an exceedingly premature age, seemed plausible enough. “I'm fed up having the little brother,” Jon said, looking the stranger square in the face. “He’s always the same. I’m going to tell Mum I’m not having him anymore”

With grocery bags still suspended at his sides, from what had begun as a routine trip to the supermarket, the man took one last look at the sad-faced little boy, and silently relented. It was a decision which would come back to haunt him in the weeks and months that followed. In retrospection, the man said he was aware that, had he stopped, he might well have rescued James from a terrible fate. “But I didn’t stop. I didn't know.” Even so, like so many other witnesses, he was offered little sympathy from the general public, and, despite his guilt, was severely chastised by the press. Offered Justice Morland, on their behalf, “Many of the witnesses were doing the humdrum things of everyday life on that Friday afternoon when, wholly unawares, they were caught up in the last few tragic hours of James Bulger’s life.”

At approximately 5:40 PM, Robert and Jon reached the entrance to the railway, with James. By this time, the toddler was exhausted and disoriented, and the two boys were more than ready to bring an end to their day-long façade of brotherhood. While the exact details of his death will most likely never be known in their entirety, both boys’ confessions suggested that the attack on James began with a splatter of the previously pilfered modeling paint. Neither, however, implicated themselves as the initiator. James began crying, his face, neck and head covered in large splashes of blue enamel. Jon claimed James touched him then, as he knelt down “to see if his eyes were alright,” and was later linked to the crime, when investigating officers discovered what appeared to be a small, childlike handprint on the sleeve of Jon’s jacket.

What had perhaps started out as a cruel and poorly thought-out caper had suddenly spiraled out of control, quickly reaching a dangerously aggressive level. It was no longer a case of two older boys browbeating a younger child into submission, but extreme and brutal violence. With no weapons on hand, the boys used what was available to them, pummeling rocks, bricks and stones at the wobbly-legged toddler, who cried in terror at each painful blow. “Stay down, you stupid divvie,” Robert shouted, more in shock, as James, in spite of the grievous nature of his injuries, still fought to keep his footing. When he finally did yield to the beating, the boys stripped James at the waist, kicking the immobilized child repeatedly in the head, chest and groin. At some point thereafter, it is believed that one or both of the boys examined the little boy intimately, sexually assaulting him before ultimately leaving him for dead.

While both boys were disturbed by the mere suggestion of a sexually motivated assault, it was Robert who became the most hysterical, so much so that his interrogators were forced, for the first and only time, to terminate the interview. “I never,” he sobbed. As the sessions dragged on, tired and exasperated by the incessant questioning, he became increasingly defensive. “I’m not a pervert, you know,” he told the officers, resentfully. Unfortunately, for Robert, the knowledge and use of the word “pervert” by a ten-year-old boy, together with his tell-tale response when questioned about the dirty marks seen on his face on the night James was murdered, only further persuaded the officers that their frightful intuition was correct. “What do you mean, dirty marks?” Robert had replied, confusedly: “…Like sex marks? Dirty.” In her controversial book, CHILDREN WHO KILL, author Carol Anne Davis writes, “It’s very likely that Robert had been sexually abused himself - and children who have been molested often feel compelled to repeat the abuse.”

Many years later, some months prior to his release in 2001, Robert claimed that he had in fact been repeatedly sexually abused by a family member from the ages of 6 to 10 years, and would say that this was why he never wanted to come home until the late hours of the night. Even so, despite this personal revelation, he continued to steadfastly deny that the attack against James had been sexually motivated or that James had been sexually abused at any time during the assault. He claimed instead, as he had during the interviews in February 1993, that he had been distressed by the sight of blood coming from James’s mouth, and had used James’s underclothes to try and cover it. Jon Venables also denied the sexual abuse, saying that the AA batteries found at the scene, which investigating officers initially felt might have been inserted into James’s rectum, were actually “pushed” into James’s mouth, which would explain the horrific injuries James suffered to his oral cavity. Nonetheless, in spite of both boys’ fervent denials, together with the seeming lack of evidence, this aspect of the crime remains a thing of controversy.

The most devastating injury James suffered came in the form of a massive twenty-two pound iron bar. “Just feel the weight of that,” one of the boys said, in awe, before landing a crushing blow to the side of James’s head. Then, James was still.

“I tried to see if the baby was still alive, and he wouldn’t move,” Robert told authorities, during the interviews. “I was trying to see if he could breathe. I’ve got me ear against his belly, and he wasn’t breathing.”

In a final, bizarre gesture, the boys piled bricks around James’s bloodied head, and covered his face. When they left him, Jon said, he was “making spluttering noises, lying on the rail, on his tummy.” Asked why they had left the toddler unaided, Jon responded, “I just said to Robert, don’t you think we’ve done enough now?”