Gahan, now 28, is angry. Howard got away
with what he did to her. Hannah Williams' mother is angry.
She believes Howard should have been in jail at the time he
preyed on her daughter. The Arkinson family is angry,
believing he could and should have been convicted of
murdering Arlene, whose body has never been found. "We need
a full public inquiry into how this man got let go again and
again to do the things he did," says Arlene's sister,
Kathleen.
The case of Robert Howard suggests that
the authorities - from the police to the prosecutors to the
judiciary - simply haven't taken rape seriously enough.
Howard got nine days in borstal for the assault on the six-year-old.
He got six years for attempted rape of the young woman, and
was free within three. After he raped the older woman, a
psychiatrist warned that Howard was a dangerous psychopath
and should be jailed for as long as possible. He got 10
years and was out in seven.
In 1994, after Howard raped Gahan,
another psychiatrist warned that he was dangerous to women
and becoming more so. He got a suspended sentence. Howard
moved easily between the Republic of Ireland and the north,
and across the Irish Sea to England and Scotland. He was
rarely monitored, and never for long. Liaison between police
forces was minimal.
Gahan, who has moved back to the Irish
midlands where she was born, is still deeply traumatised by
the violence Howard inflicted on her. She left home as a 15-year-old
emerging from a troubled childhood. Her mother had been
killed in an accident when she was five. "My father was
finding it hard to control us," she says. "There were 10 of
us. My friend had moved up to the north and I decided to
follow. I was running away from Daddy, really, but it wasn't
his fault. I was wild."
Her friend's boyfriend knew a middle-aged
woman called Pat Quinn, who said Gahan could stay in her
house in Castlederg, where she lived with her own teenage
daughter, Donna. Castlederg is one of those small Northern
Irish towns that is well described by Yeats's phrase, "Great
hatred, little room." It was deeply afflicted by the
Troubles.
Gahan liked it. She got a job washing
dishes in a Chinese restaurant. She became part of a circle
of teenagers, including Donna and Arlene Arkinson. Their
social life revolved around nights in bars and discos in
Castlederg and neighbouring towns in Tyrone, and in Donegal
in the Republic, reached by a network of narrow, mountainous
roads through woods and bogs. The border meanders crazily
across this lonely territory. Robert Howard, then nearly 50,
was Pat Quinn's boyfriend, though he was more interested in
the teenage girls he met through Donna. He let them stay at
his flat on Main Street.
"He knew I had nothing," says Gahan. "He
knew everything about me. He bought me cigarettes and
runners and things. He used to bring us up to the bog to cut
turf. He brought me out for drinks. I knew him as Bob. He
called me Mick. He was so nice to me. He was from the south,
like me. I'd left Daddy, and he was like a daddy who let me
do what I wanted. I thought the world of him."
A few months after Gahan had arrived in
Castlederg, Howard suggested an elaborate plan to her.
Ostensibly, he was fixing her up with a young taxi driver
she fancied. She was to tell everyone she was going away for
the weekend, get a bus to the next town, and then come back
secretly to meet Howard - and the taxi driver - at his flat.
Except the taxi driver never came.
Howard took Gahan to a pub in the village
of Sion Mills that night, but left when they saw someone
they knew. "I was afraid," says Gahan, "but I don't remember
why. When we got to the flat, I had a pounding headache. He
gave me some pills. I remember sitting on his knee. I
remember nothing then until I woke up the next morning naked
in his bed. He started coming on to me, and I said no. He
said I hadn't said that last night. He started getting
annoyed then, and that is when he put the rope round my neck."
When she escaped, after three days held
captive, Gahan told police she'd been raped, but she felt
they didn't believe her. "They banged the table and shouted
at me," she says. They wanted to know why she hadn't tried
to get away sooner, and why she did not, initially, tell
them about her interest in the taxi driver. Looking back,
she can see the control Howard had over her. "It was the way
he had me thinking," she says. There was compelling evidence
to back her account of what had happened: strangulation
marks on her neck; her fingerprints on the windowsill from
which she had jumped; a rope.
Gahan was taken to a children's home and
soon afterwards returned to her family, then to a job in
England. Howard was arrested and released on bail. He was
ordered to stay with the Quinns, even though this was a
household that included the teenage Donna. He was instructed
not to go out at night, or into pubs. In the summer of 1994,
Gahan was informed by the police in Northern Ireland that
her case was coming up. She returned to Ireland, but was not,
in fact, called to give evidence. Howard had originally been
charged with five rapes and with buggery. But the charges
were dropped.
Instead, Howard agreed to plead guilty to
unlawful carnal knowledge. The implication was that Gahan
had been a willing partner and that the offence lay only in
the fact that she was, at 16, under the legal age of consent
(17 in Northern Ireland). Her statements had been heavily
edited. A prosecuting lawyer told the court that no rope had
been found. Judge David Smyth ordered that a psychiatric
report be prepared on Howard, and said that if it was
satisfactory, he would not be sent to jail. He was released
again on bail. This was extraordinary - by that stage,
Howard was suspected of having murdered 15-year-old Arlene
Arkinson.
On August 13 1994, Arlene was babysitting
at her sister Kathleen's home on a housing estate in
Castlederg. Kathleen returned home at about 11pm, and soon
afterwards Donna Quinn arrived to pick up Arlene. "She said
it was her and her boyfriend and her mother and Bob Howard
that were going out," says Kathleen. They were going to a
disco at the Palace Hotel in Bundoran. An old-fashioned
resort full of boarding houses and bars and amusement
arcades, Bundoran is perched on the chilly edge of the
Atlantic in Donegal. Donna said they'd be back by two the
following morning. Kathleen said good night to her youngest
sister. She never saw her again.
"Arlene was wild, like me," Gahan recalls.
"We were alike, too, because I had no one telling me what to
do and nor had she. We got on great."
Arlene's mother had died when she was 11.
She lived between the homes of her older brothers and
sisters, though she sometimes returned to her father's house.
"I used to hear her upstairs, crying, 'I want my mummy,' "
he remembers, as he sits in his living room, looking at
photographs of his lovely, laughing daughter, missing now
for more than a decade.
At first, after Arlene disappeared, the
Quinns covered up for Howard, claiming Arlene hadn't gone to
Bundoran. However, it quickly emerged that after the night
out in Bundoran, Howard had dropped off the others before
driving away with Arlene. He claimed that he had dropped her
off in Castlederg, and that he'd seen her in a car in the
town the next day. He was not believed. Pat Quinn admitted
Howard had got back home much later than she had originally
said. The terms of his bail on the charges concerning Gahan
included a curfew, which he'd broken, but still he was not
held in custody.
A petrol bomb was thrown into the Quinns'
house. Howard was driven out of Castlederg by members of
Arlene's family. He sold the car he'd used the night Arlene
disappeared. For a time, he lived rough in a van across the
border. Again, he was moved on by local men who knew his
reputation. It was a full six weeks after Arlene disappeared
before he was arrested. One of Arlene's sisters recalls
something a local RUC officer said at this time: "He said,
'I wish I could show you that man's file. You wouldn't
believe it.' " Still, at the time he was neither charged nor
brought to trial.
As an adult, Robert Howard called himself
the Wolfman and the Wolfhill Werewolf. He gave himself a new
middle name, Lesarian, believed to be a reference to a
mythical child killer. He was born in Wolfhill, County Laois,
in the south-east of Ireland, in 1944. He was a tall, gangly
boy, bright enough at school, according to some of those who
knew him then, but edgy, easily distracted. "He mitched [played
truant] a lot," says one contemporary. "His father worked in
the local brick factory and drank heavily in the local pub.
His mother had nine children to raise. There would have been
very little money brought home."
By the time he was 13, Robert was in
trouble. Convicted of burglary, he was sent to St Joseph's
Industrial School, in Clonmel, not far from his home area, a
reformatory run by priests and brothers. The truth about how
such Irish Catholic institutions were run has begun to
emerge in recent years. "These people were monsters," says
one former inmate. "The place was unbelievable. We were
starved. We were beaten with leather straps with coins sewn
into them until we were bleeding. We had to gather turnips
and stones for the local farmers. You had no name. You had a
number. There were boys in there going around like zombies.
We were terrified, all the time - a lot of us were damaged
for life. Love was never spoken of, never shown. There was
never a comforting word. Just relentless violence." There
was also sexual abuse, and Howard would later claim to have
been a victim of this.
On his release, his father threw him out
of the family home. The 16-year-old lived rough in barns and
outhouses, and possibly in old shafts and tunnels from the
days when Wolfhill had coalmines. One man, a child in the
1950s, recalls making a disturbing discovery in his father's
hayshed. "We found old cans and blankets and things - Howard
must have been sleeping there. We also found a diary. It was
all about how he wanted to break into women's houses when
they were in the bath, and the violent things he'd do to
them. My father caught us reading it and took it away."
Another local man recalls being told by a
neighbour that, while out hunting one day, he had come upon
a local farmer performing a sexual act on the teenage Howard
in the woods. The man didn't intervene, but fired a shot
into the air.
Howard continued to steal. He'd rob from
local shops and take cars. He was sent to a second reform
school, St Conleth's, in Daingean, County Offaly, another of
the most notorious of Ireland's brutal institutions for
young offenders. A former priest who worked there said the
priests were "programmed with an extraordinary level of
violence" and that "most of the boys ended up totally
disturbed".
Howard moved to England. In 1965, when he
was 21, he broke into a house in London and ordered a six-year-old
girl to undress, claiming he was a doctor. He attempted to
rape the child, and hurt her. A week later he returned and
tried to break in again. This time he was caught. His
punishment was nine days in a borstal, after which he was
sent back to Ireland. At that time it was common for Irish
criminals to be sent home in this way, a system of informal
deportation. He didn't stay.
In 1969, Howard broke into the home of a
young married woman in Durham and attempted to rape her. She
ran, naked and screaming, from the house. He grabbed her by
the throat before neighbours managed to drag him away. He
was sentenced to six years in jail, and served three, in
Frankland Prison. During his time there, he assaulted a
female member of staff. By 1973, he was free, and was again
sent back to Ireland. Using the name Lesley Cahill, he got a
factory job in the then prospering seaside town of Youghal,
County Cork.
One night in May that year, a 58-year-old
woman who lived alone woke up to find Howard in her bedroom.
He had broken into her house, which was beside his lodgings.
He made her hand over her money and keys, then forced her
upstairs again, breaking her ankle in the process. He tied
her to her bed, stuffed her mouth with cotton wool and raped
her, before driving off in her car. "She was a very
vulnerable person," says Willie Doyle, then the local Garda
sergeant. "She might have suffocated, but luckily for her
some relations called the next morning and found her. She
was very traumatised."
Howard was arrested at Dublin airport.
"He was very soft-spoken," recalls Doyle. "You would never
imagine he could be violent." Psychiatrist Dr David Dunne,
who interviewed Howard at the time, says he, too, was
surprised by Howard's "extremely courteous" demeanour. "He
was a very refined man, but I had seen his record and knew
he was also extremely dangerous. I sensed and feared he had
already killed someone. I knew his violence was likely to
get far worse, especially towards women. I believed him to
be an explosive psychopath. I wanted him to be sent to jail
for an indefinite period."
Howard could have got life. Instead, he
got 10 years. He was out again in 1981. An internal Garda
bulletin noted that he had returned to Wolfhill and "local
opinion is that he is not going to waste any time before
returning to his old tricks".
A woman who remembers him from this time
had her own horrific experience of sexual brutality. She was
the teenager who would become known a decade later as "the
Kilkenny incest victim". In 1981, aged 15, she was pregnant
with her father's child. He was beating and raping her
routinely, and used to take pornographic pictures of her
which he'd show to other men in local pubs.
"Bob used to come to our house sometimes
at night, and he and my father would drink whiskey and
poitín together," she says. "My father would say to him, 'Where
have you been?' He'd say, 'I've been visiting relations.' My
father would laugh. I always felt it was some sort of code.
He was creepy. They were birds of a feather." Her father was
eventually jailed for seven years.
In 1983, Howard got married to a young
woman he met in a Dublin hospital. The marriage lasted three
years. They lived at various addresses in Dublin. She, too,
was described as vulnerable, with emotional troubles; her
friends revealed recently that Howard was violent and cruel
to her. In 1988, he was jailed for 15 months for larceny. He
went to Northern Ireland in 1990 to attend an alcohol
treatment unit run by nuns in Newry, County Down. It was at
around this time that he met Pat Quinn and moved to
Castlederg.
He lived at first in a caravan park on
the edge of the town, a down-at-heel place where many of
those awaiting public housing lived. Not long after his
arrival there, in 1991, a young woman came from Dublin to
stay with him. He was 47, she was 22. He tied her up and
raped her repeatedly, was extremely violent and kept her as
a prisoner until, three weeks later, her parents arrived and
took her home.
The woman became pregnant as a result of
the rape and now has a 14-year-old child. The details of
what happened to her did not emerge until her family told
gardaí six years later, in 1997. Police decided she was too
vulnerable to give evidence and Howard was not charged. His
next known victim was Gahan.
"He has a strong desire to dominate
teenage girls both sexually and physically," wrote Dr Ian
Bownes, the forensic psychiatrist asked in September 1994 to
provide an assessment of Howard to assist Judge Smyth in
sentencing him for the "unlawful carnal knowledge" of Gahan.
"He has the propensity not only to commit further offences
of a similar nature ... but also to escalate his offending
behaviour." His activities were premeditated, involving the
identification and targeting of "a vulnerable victim" and
the use of a "sophisticated grooming process". Bownes said
he was pessimistic about Howard's ability to undergo any
treatment programme - his pattern of behaviour had been
established over many years and would be "extremely
resistant to change".
When Howard appeared in court again for
sentencing in January 1995, despite the damning psychiatric
report, Judge Smyth gave him a three-year suspended sentence.
As he freed Howard, the judge told him to stay away from
teenage girls. Bownes heard the news on the radio. "I was
somewhat surprised by the leniency of the sentence," he says.
"In retrospect, we can see the system failed disastrously."
Bownes never saw Dr Dunne's 1973 report on Howard. He was
not told that Gahan had alleged Howard used a noose.
What Howard would later refer to as "dark
days in Castlederg" were over. In March 1995, he moved to
Scotland, where he told local housing authorities that he
had left Northern Ireland "in a hurry". He said the IRA was
after him.
He was given a flat in the rough Glasgow
suburb of Drumchapel, near two schools. Pat Quinn came over
from Castlederg to join him. The Northern Ireland police
informed Strathclyde police about Howard's criminal record -
and that he was the chief suspect for the murder of Arlene
Arkinson.
Howard returned to Ireland several times,
but kept his Scottish base. Pat Quinn left in October, by
which time Howard already had another girlfriend, a woman
he'd met in a pub. She had a 10-year-old daughter. Then the
Sunday Mail, presumably acting on information obtained from
the police, outed Howard. The newspaper printed a photograph
of the "Face Of Evil" over a piece about the "twisted child
sex fiend" that detailed his criminal record and described
him as "one of Ireland's most dangerous sex offenders". The
sub-headline had a simple message: "Kick him out!"
Within hours, a crowd had descended on
the tenement house and the windows of Howard's second-floor
flat were smashed. He used a rope to escape from a back
window.
Howard was on the move again. A police
surveillance team located him at a hostel in Hither Green,
south-east London, but he was hounded out by other residents
who found out about his past. He disappeared for a time, and
was later traced to Brockley, then to Catford. A child
protection officer noted at the time that Howard was a
difficult subject to monitor.
By 1999, he was living with a woman
called Mary Scollom at her house in Northfleet, Kent.
Scollom had formerly been involved with the father of Hannah
Williams and had remained friendly with the girl after the
relationship ended. Scollom would take her for walks with
her dogs around the Blue Lake at the back of her house.
Hannah Williams' parents had separated
before she was born. When she was four, she had been
sexually abused by a boyfriend of her mother's and had spent
some time in care. In 2001, she was 14 and living with her
mother in the outer London suburb of Deptford. She had
learning difficulties and was described as immature.
Howard met Hannah through Scollom and
showed a great interest in her. In February 2001, he took a
home video of her, cuddling the dogs at the house he and
Scollom shared. On April 21, she left home to go shopping in
Deptford market, around the corner from her home in Elgar
Close. She had very little money, but she liked looking at
clothes. Her brother, Kevin, who had a Saturday job in the
market, heard her answering her mobile and having a very
brief conversation. She told the caller, "I'm going now."
By 10pm that night, Hannah's mother,
Bernadette Williams, was worried. Hannah had been supposed
to meet a friend that evening but hadn't shown up. She
wasn't answering her mobile. By 5am, Bernadette was frantic.
She went to the police. She felt she wasn't taken seriously
- several officers have since been disciplined for their
role in the initial stages of the investigation. Bernadette
made her own "Missing" posters and took them round local
shops and bars. But Hannah was gone.
Almost a year later, a workman was using
a digger to clear dense undergrowth on land near the Blue
Lake at Northfleet as part of the Channel Tunnel development.
He found a badly decomposed body wrapped in a blue tarpaulin.
Police initially thought it might be another missing girl,
but when they released a description of the clothes,
Bernadette knew it was her only daughter. "I finally found
out my daughter was dead, and that her body had been found,
by watching it on the telly," she says. "To find out that
way was unforgivable. I screamed and then I cried and cried."
Hannah's coffin was placed in a carriage
drawn by white horses. "She would have made a beautiful
bride," says her mother. "But instead of a white wedding, we
had a white funeral."
Hannah had been raped and strangled. The
blue rope that had been used to kill her was still wrapped
around her neck. Howard was arrested in March 2002 and
charged with her murder. During his trial, at Maidstone,
Kent, in October 2003, it was revealed that he had used his
girlfriend's mobile to call Hannah to her death.
Detective Inspector Colin Murray (now
retired), who led the investigation, had no witnesses and no
DNA evidence. However, he had circumstantial evidence and he
was also able to rely on "similar fact" evidence. A
traumatised young woman gave evidence that Howard had
brought her to the same place where Hannah Williams' body
was later found, and that he had tried to sexually assault
her. She had escaped.
Gahan came over from Ireland to give
evidence that showed Howard's grooming techniques.
Crucially, she also described how, when he was raping her,
Howard had put a noose around her neck. Kathleen Arkinson
gave evidence about Howard's part in Arlene's disappearance.
It took the jury just three hours to convict him. Sentencing
him to life imprisonment, Mr Justice McKinnon said, "It is
clear that you are a danger to teenage girls and other
women, and have been for a long time."
Reporting on the trial was severely
restricted because Howard had, by this time, also been
charged with murdering Arlene. "Mrs Williams hugged us at
the end of Hannah's trial and said, 'See you in Ireland,'"
says Kathleen Arkinson. "We assumed that she would be called,
and the others, too." But the public prosecution service in
Northern Ireland did not attempt to introduce similar fact
evidence. It has not explained this decision.
The jury that heard the case in Belfast's
crown court in the summer of 2005 knew nothing of the
patterns of behaviour Howard had established in a career of
sexual violence that spanned four decades. He was acquitted.
Weeks later, he was also acquitted of other charges of
sexual abuse against a 17-year-old girl in the 1990s.
Police from Northern Ireland, the
Republic and England have already held a one-day conference
to discuss other crimes with which Howard might be connected.
The police ombudsman for Northern Ireland, Nuala O'Loan, has
launched an inquiry into the handling of complaints against
Howard there. Gardaí in the Republic have applied for
permission to question Howard in connection with the
disappearances of at least two young women in the 1980s and
1990s. British police questioned him earlier this year about
13-year-old Amanda "Milly" Dowler, abducted and murdered in
2002.
Barry Cummins, a journalist who has
written a book about missing Irish women and children, says
a thorough investigation into Howard's life is now needed. "This
was a man who travelled freely all over Ireland and the UK,
and lived in many places," he says. "The police should be
looking at all unsolved disappearances, murders and sex
crimes against women and girls during the periods when he
was at large. They should be asking, 'Where was Howard?' "
Ireland established a sex offenders'
register only in 2001, and liaison on the monitoring of sex
offenders between the authorities in the North and the South,
and between Ireland and the UK, is seriously underdeveloped.
Howard was a skilled hunter. He carried
out random attacks on some of his victims, while others were
groomed. He could live rough, but also knew how to play the
system to get accommodation. He favoured poor areas. It was
easy to win women with low expectations. He tracked down
socially marginalised women to use as cover while providing
access to vulnerable young girls. The ones he chose had
typically already had bad experiences with men, and were
relatively unprotected. He faked kindness, and deceived many.
In the desolate boglands around
Castlederg, the search for Arlene Arkinson's body continues.