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Ian Brady and Myra Hindley.


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Ian Brady and Myra Hindley.

On a freezing cold October morning, just after 6.00am, 17 year old David Smith, accompanied by his girlfriend, made his way to a red, public telephone box. Smith had just witnessed one of the most cold-blooded, notorious killings imaginable.

While Smith dialled 999 with trembling fingers, a hammer in the other hand for protection, his girlfriend nervously kept watch outside the phone box armed with a screwdriver. Within an hour, the mist cloaked, empty streets of a sixties Manchester housing estate would surrender their evil secrets and go down in infamy.

Unbeknown to Smith at the time, the bodies of several innocent children would also be discovered in lonely graves, on a barren, windswept moor. The moors murderers, Ian Brady and Myra Hindley were about to be unmasked - and their callous, premeditated crimes brought out in to the open.

Late the previous night, Ian Brady had gone and collected David Smith from Myra Hindley's sister's home and taken him to 16 Walder Brook Avenue. Once inside, Smith found another teenager, Edward Evans, waiting. As David Smith slumped in an armchair opposite, Brady edged his way in to position behind Evans, drew an axe, and then ruthless battered Evans to death. Brady hoped, by letting Smith witness his calculating act of homicide, he too would be brought in to the wicked world of blood lust and murder.

Although, at the time, Brady didn't bank on the honesty of Smith. Revolted by what took place in front of him, Smith knew he had to bide his time -or become another victim of Brady's psychotic, inhumane behaviour. After Smith's initial call to the police early next morning, an officer arrived on the scene at 7.30am, where upon he was directed by Smith to 16 Walder brook avenue. The officer was greeted at the front door by the unemotional Hindley. She stood without a care in the world, as the young police officer demanded entry.

After a brief search of the premisies downstairs, the constable slowly climbed the creaky wooden staircase. In front of him he found a locked bedroom door. When he demanded access to the room, Hindley bluffed. She said the room was locked, and her dogs were on the other side.

The officers diligence and persistence paid off. Ian Brady realised the officer wasn't about to leave. It was then he instructed Hindley to open the door.

Inside the small spartanly furnished bedroom, the fresh faced constable found the body of Edward

Evans, tired up in a white bed sheet, the blood stains apparent around the top, the lifeless corpse ready for disposal: Myra Hindley looked on. Sickening though the find was, worse was to come. Edward Evans was only the culmination of a sadistic campaign of abduction, sex, torture, sexual depravity and frenzied killing. As Hindley would later say of the children: "They followed like lambs to the slaughter."

The following weeks and months would reduce hardened police officers to tears, and leave a nation wondering how such wickedness could manifest among their community.

This wasn't just about murder, as disgusting as that maybe, this was about the depths of human depravity and the betrayal of trust.

Kids who trusted a woman to protect them, but found themselves caught in a web of deceit.

Myra Hindley had a normal childhood. She grew up on a run-down housing estate in Galton Manchester, of two-up, two down tenement buildings. Money was tight, as it was for everyone. Brady's childhood greatly differed. The illegitimate son of a Glasgow waitress and unknown father, he would mature with a passion for literature and classical music. It's well known Brady had fantasies about killing, but kept these fantasies hidden beneath the surface until he met Myra Hindley. It would be her who encouraged him to take them farther and play out his lust for murder as she fed from it by proxy.

Pauline Reade was to be their first, unsuspecting victim on Friday, the 12 of July, 1963. Little Pauline had been looking forward to going to a local dance with friends, when they cancelled at the last minute. All dressed up in her finest dress, wearing a treasured necklace from her mother, she made arrangements to go to the dance with other friends. It would be a fatal mistake, and as her proud mother walked her to the street corner, and tenderly kissed her goodbye, she would never see Pauline alive again.

Whilst Pauline Reade readied herself for the dance - Myra Hindley and Ian Brady plotted something much more sinister.

Hindley borrowed a mini van and was already trawling the claustrophobic streets and tiny back alleys looking for her prey. Pauline

Reade came into sight as she sauntered down the road, her head down, her mind lost in happy teenage thoughts. While Hindley patrolled the streets in the mini van, Brady followed behind on his motorcycle. he instinctively knew a child would be less likely to get in the car with him in it. The minutiae planned to the last detail, Hindley pulls the mini van to a halt just in front of Pauline Reade.

As Pauline levels with the passenger window, Myra Hindley lurches across the seat and calls to her through the open window. Already acquainted with Myra Hindley, Pauline Reade didn't suspect anything out of the ordinary. It's then Hindley puts the plan into force whilst Brady sits astride his motorcycle a few yards behind them, the engine ticking over, the bike ready to move.

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