Colin Pitchfork (21 years old) was arrested just months before his 1981 wedding for inappropriately showing himself to young women.
He was caught not flashing for the second time, but he managed to escape with a mere rape on his knuckles.
That court appearance came just two years before Pitchfork killed for the first time – and by then he was already a master at running rings around the authorities, who he’d convinced he would ‘outgrow his problem’.
In 1987, Lynda Mann was arrested and charged with the murders of Dawn Ashworth and Dawn Ashworth. He laughed at the ease it took to get the wool over the eyes of people since he started offending in Boy Scouts as a depraved sweet-faced boy scout.
Pitchfork was delighted at the inability of authorities to stop his strange compulsions.
Interviews with police revealed that he felt it was futile to try to assist him at The Woodlands. This is a hospital which treats ‘neurotic disorder’. He was “a bleeding waste”.
Pictured is Colin Pitchfork during his wedding. Pitchfork was sentenced in January 1988 to life after pleading guilty to the murders of both his wife and son in September 1987. Pitchfork pleaded guilty to both murders in September 1987 and was sentenced by the judge to life imprisonment in January 1988.
Officers were told by him that probation officers and psychiatrists are very happy when they hear what they desire to hear. These people are so easy to please, I cannot believe it.
Joseph Wambaugh was a former Los Angeles detective and wrote an enlightening account of Pitchfork’s crimes. Wambaugh had extensive access to Pitchfork’s case files, taped confessions and other evidence for his 1989 book The Blooding. He gained a unique insight into Pitchfork’s wicked mindset and his love of dissembling.
Yesterday the author (now aged 84), told me, “It’s virtually impossible for murdering sociopaths not to be what they are.” The ‘deceitful killer’ was not allowed to be released because he “didn’t know what he was doing”.
Colin Pitchfork’s mugshot, who was the first person to be convicted using DNA evidence.
Wambaugh states that murdering psychopaths possess a vague superego. This is what we refer to as a conscience. His crimes are not understood by him in the same way as a normal person. He is a danger.
Wambaugh recounted in his book that Pitchfork started revealing his sexual deviance as an eleven-year-old to friends and family. Pitchfork admitted that flashing was something he got a buzz off of because it wasn’t something he should do.
Detectives were told by him that it was the highest high he needed and that part of the excitement was not knowing “how it would end”.
Wambaugh, thanks to his unique access, paints a remarkable picture of Pitchfork’s psychopathic tendencies. He notes how he boasted that he had “flashed a thousand women in his life” during interviews.
As he “described these triumphs with gusto”, he spoke freely and without any trace of regret.
Wambaugh stated that Pitchfork’s speech was “grandiose” and “laced in macho profanity”.
Lynda Mann was strangled and raped by Pitchfork in Narborough (Leicestershire) November 1983. Dawn Ashworth was raped, murdered, and killed three years later in Enderby.
“Ordinarily, he spoke in monotone. But when he described the flashings, he spoke with delight.” Pitchfork needed to be in control, even during interviews with police. Pitchfork demanded and got a Chinese take-out halfway through an interview. On another, he pulled a metal bolt from his sock – removed from a brass plaque in his cell – as well as a shoelace (routinely confiscated from prisoners because they present a hanging risk).
Wambaugh says he set them down on the table expecting homage because he showed detectives that they could be outwitted.
Was it possible that the Parole Board members, who approved Pitchfork’s September release from prison did not pay attention to Pitchfork’s complete disrespect of authority and his blatant boasts about how he couldn’t be trusted to keep his promises? They should have noticed that Pitchfork’s thrill came from his ability to race around people who could stop him, and the possibility of being caught.
Pitchfork was not allowed to leave prison despite being warned repeatedly. The lure of violating the law was just as tempting and powerful once Pitchfork got out.
Sue Gratrick, the older sister of Pitchfork’s first victim, Lynda Mann, said yesterday – on the 38th anniversary of Lynda’s murder – that her family was praying that this time he will stay behind bars. “I am just thankful that no other person has been injured, as that is my greatest fear.”