Pure Evil. How Tracie Andrews Murdered My Son, Decieved the Nation and Sentenced Me to a...

176 Pages·2008·0.87 MB·English

by  Maureen Harvey

Pure Evil
How Tracie Andrews murdered my son, deceived the nation and
sentenced me to a life of pain and misery
MAUREEN HARVEY
Dedication
For my son Lee…
Lee, your life was cut short. I now know why you were always in a hurry.
Watching the clock, wearing out the carpet walking up and down the lounge,
waiting for your friends to arrive, complaining they were late, ready for a good
night on the town.

You lived life to the full and I was so proud of you.

Lee, thank you for being my son and my friend. My love for you will never end.

God bless, my darling. Love you, miss you, Mum x

Special thanks to Ray, Michelle, Steve, my family, my friend Joyce and to West
Mercia Constabulary.
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
1 The Nightmare Begins
2 The Reality of Grief
3 Suspicion
4 Press Conference
5 The Breakthrough
6 Suicide Bid
7 Closing in on a Killer
8 Charged
9 Tears for Lee
10 The Trial
11 The Verdict
12 The Aftermath
13 Picking up the Pieces
14 Edge of Reason
15 The Appeal
16 Tracie’s Confession
17 The Tariff
18 Facing the Future
19 Among Friends
20 Playing the Victim
21 Fighting Our Corner
22 Brief Encounter
23 Costa del Foston
24 Remembering Lee
Copyright
1
The Nightmare Begins
It was 3.20am on Sunday, 1 December 1996. The sound of a car pulling up
outside had woken Ray and me. Who else would turn up in the middle of the
night but Lee?
I lay awake in the darkness wondering why I couldn’t hear him letting
himself in downstairs. Typical, I thought, getting out of bed. He’s probably
forgotten his front-door key. But, when I pulled back the curtains and saw a
white car parked at the end of our drive, I realised it wasn’t Lee’s. I was horrified
when I saw two uniformed police officers get out of the car and make their way
up the garden path.
I can remember shouting, ‘No!’ as they were knocking on the front door and,
in that split-second, as Ray leaped out of bed and nearly fell over as he tried to
put both legs in one trouser hole, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind.
Had Lee been in an accident? Was he hurt? Was it Michelle, my daughter? She
was pregnant and on a Center Parcs holiday with her husband Steve and two-
year-old daughter Paige. What in God’s name had happened?
Even as Ray and I were running down the stairs, I was silently praying,
‘Please, God, let everything be all right. Let them have the wrong address.’
Facing a policeman and woman on the doorstep, I gripped Ray’s arm. ‘Are
you the parents of Lee Harvey?’ one of them asked.
The blood was pounding in my head as Ray nodded and stepped back to let
them into the hallway.
‘I’m afraid he’s been in some sort of row,’ the officer continued. ‘A road-rage
attack. He’s been stabbed.’
I could hardly breathe. ‘Is he all right?’ I asked.
His face said it all. ‘We’re very sorry, Mrs Harvey…’
‘Oh, God!’ I screamed. ‘Please don’t tell me he’s dead.’
Ray was crying as the officers followed us into the sitting room. The
policewoman put her arm round me and said she’d make us a cup of tea. I went
into the kitchen and started getting cups out of the cupboard. I was in such a
state of shock that I couldn’t find anything else. I stood shaking by the sink and
let the policewoman gently take a cup from my hands.
This couldn’t be happening to us. It happened on the television to other
people. I’d read harrowing interviews in the newspapers and magazines where
other parents had relived this nightmare. It was too much to take in that now it
was our turn and that our son was dead.
‘It can’t be Lee,’ Ray said. His voice was choked, barely audible.
‘No,’ I heard myself say. ‘You’ve made a mistake… It’s not him… It can’t
be.’
‘I’m afraid it is Lee,’ the first policeman began.
‘What about Tracie?’ I interrupted him. My mind was racing. Lee stabbed?
Murdered? A road-rage attack?
‘Was she with him?’ I asked. ‘Is she hurt?’
‘She’s been taken to the Alexandra Hospital in Redditch,’ he said, watching
Ray pace up and down the room. ‘She’s in shock and has some bruising from
where she was attacked, but she’s all right. We’ll be talking to her later.’
‘What do you mean, “She’s all right”?’ Ray demanded. ‘Why didn’t she
phone us? If she was with Lee when someone killed him, she’s a witness. Why
would anyone leave a witness to identify them?’
Even when you’re facing the kind of shock that feels like a sledgehammer
punch in the chest, like someone is squeezing the breath out of you, you still,
somehow, focus on trying to make sense of the unthinkable.
Tracie Andrews… we’d lost count of the times our son had driven or caught a
taxi back home in the early hours after yet another row with Tracie. The
arguments between them were the only predictable thing about their on-off
relationship.
Usually, after one or both of them had downed one too many drinks, Tracie
would end up either phoning her mum or the police to say she wanted Lee out of
her flat for good. She’d claim he was throwing things at her, threatening her,
taunting her. Like us, the police knew it was a case of six of one and half-a-
dozen of the other and would log the call as another domestic. They’d turn up,
Tracie would turn on the waterworks and play the victim, and Lee would pick up
his jacket and leave. He’d get home covered in scratches and bruises, while
Tracie would be crying on her mum’s shoulder, blaming Lee for causing yet
another bust-up.
A couple of days later, the phone would ring and Lee would listen to her in
floods of tears begging him to come back… and off he’d go. That was just the
way things were between them. Tracie seemed to thrive on the drama and Lee
was so besotted with her that, for most of the two years they’d been together, he
wouldn’t have a bad word said against her. Just so long as they ended up in bed
together once they’d kissed and made up, he went along with it.
Ray and I had given up trying to convince him that they’d never be happy
together, even though they were engaged and planning their wedding. Arrogant
and self-obsessed, Tracie had been bad news from the day we’d met her. We’d
both recognised a controlling young woman whose bleached blonde hair and
caked-on make-up masked a deep insecurity and manipulative personality. She
was the kind of good-time girl who ruthlessly traded on her sexuality to seek the
attention she craved.
Lee, a good-looking lad, who’d bedded more women than he’d had hot
dinners, saw what every other red-blooded male would have seen – another
trophy girlfriend who wouldn’t take much persuading to get into bed.
‘He’s not in love,’ Ray had said to me when Lee brought Tracie home for
Sunday lunch a week after they’d met in Baker’s nightclub in Birmingham.
‘He’s in lust.’
That had been back in May 1994. We’d all hoped we’d see the back of her
within a few weeks and that Lee would see through her. But sex was always
Tracie’s trump card and, within just six months of meeting Lee, she had a
diamond engagement ring on her finger and was planning a full-on white
wedding to prove it.
‘We’re meant to be together,’ she’d announced on the day Lee brought her
home to meet us. ‘It’s our destiny.’
Lee could have had his pick of any girl who caught his eye. But Tracie was
different, he’d told me. ‘It’s the best sex I’ve ever had, Mum,’ he’d joked.
There was nothing he and I didn’t talk about and I was used to hearing him
describe how he’d often get home from work and find her waiting for him in
stockings and suspenders, ready to drag him upstairs. Lee had even told
Michelle, his sister, that he thought he’d tried most things in bed until he met
Tracie.
But even knowing how besotted Lee was with her wasn’t enough for Tracie.
From the moment they’d met, she’d tried every trick in the book to drive a
wedge between him and us. She carried a deep-rooted insecurity that made her
cynical and paranoid. Everyone, or so she thought, was trying to take Lee away
from her. Tracie was especially jealous of his relationship with his five-year-old
daughter Danielle’s mum Anita Curtis and the fact that Lee was so close to his
sister.
It was far from ideal, and particularly heart-breaking for me because we were
so close and I couldn’t bear to see him so unhappy when he’d turn up at home
after yet another argument. You never stop worrying about your kids or wanting
to protect them, no matter what age they are, but as adults they have to lead their
own lives, and learn from their own mistakes. It’s hard to sit on the sidelines and
watch, but it’s part and parcel of being a parent. If you get too involved, it can
make things worse. Once you’ve said your piece, you just have to let them get
on with it.
In the week leading up to 1 December, I hadn’t seen Lee for a week. He’d
moved back in with Tracie three months before, even though we’d told him, yet
again, that he was making a big mistake. But then they’d had another huge bust-
up and Lee had come home yet again.
‘If you even think about going back to her again after all this crap, you
needn’t bother coming back here again,’ Ray had shouted when Lee said he was
going to try to sort things out with her once and for all. ‘We’re not running a
bloody hotel, you know.’
I followed Lee into the kitchen and watched him slam a half-drunk coffee on
the sink unit.
‘Jean will let me stay with her,’ Lee said angrily. ‘She won’t mind having
me.’
Lee had stayed with Ray’s sister before when Ray had told him he was sick of
him leaving Tracie and then coming home with his tail between his legs. But, on
this occasion, Ray was having none of it. ‘Oh, no, you’re not going to Jean’s,’ he
shouted. ‘You’re not involving my family in this nightmare with that little slut.’
I didn’t want to take sides because, like Ray, I’d had enough of Tracie getting
her own way. It seemed like she only had to snap her fingers and Lee would cave
in and go running back to her. I knew Ray was only trying to make a point but at
the same time I couldn’t bear the thought of Lee having nowhere to go.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Ray,’ I said, ‘this is his home. He can come back any
time he likes.’
Lee had said nothing as he picked up his car keys and walked towards the
front door.
‘You’re making the biggest mistake of your life, son,’ Ray shouted. ‘She’s not
worth all the grief she gives you.’
‘Right! I’ll go and live in a hostel,’ said Lee. ‘At least I’ll get some bloody
peace and quiet.’
I knew Ray was trying to get Lee to change his mind and that he was just as
angry and frustrated as I was. We all say things we regret in the heat of the
moment. Especially when you love someone and don’t want to see them hurt.
But I know, even after all this time, that the memory of that afternoon is one that
will haunt Ray until he takes his last breath. Not just because of what he’d said
to Lee, but because he let him walk out without saying goodbye.
Normally – but then nothing was normal after Tracie Andrews came into our
lives – they’d have been hugging each other, joking, enjoying the lad–dad banter
that was so much a part of their relationship. They adored each other but they
were both pig-headed, stubborn men.
Lee had left the house after saying goodbye to me, Michelle and her husband
Steve but had barely given his dad a second glance. He knew how angry and
disappointed Ray was but he also knew that neither of them was prepared to
back down.
I was so relieved when Lee turned up a few days later. ‘Where have you been
staying?’ I asked him.
‘Mum, I’m fine,’ he said, ‘don’t worry about me… I’ve just come back to get
some more clothes. I’m back at Tracie’s. She’s not as bad as you think she is and
I love her, Mum. We really are going to make it work this time. OK?’
I looked at him. He was grinning. I loved him so much it was impossible to
stay cross with him. There was nothing I could say or do to stop him being with
Tracie. I shrugged my shoulders. ‘OK, it’s your life,’ I said.
That night in December, it wouldn’t have mattered if Lee had come home and
woken us up. We’d missed him so much and I knew Ray would be really
chuffed. I knew he’d regretted losing his temper. He’d even taped an American
football game for Lee that evening so I knew how much he was missing him.
And, anyway, the house wasn’t the same without Lee around. He livened
things up with his crap jokes and funny stories. The music on his stereo was
always playing too loudly, the washing machine was always full of his clothes
and the frying pan was always sizzling with eggs and bacon. In fact, he’d often
come home late after a night out with the boys and ask me to make him bacon,
egg and chips. It didn’t matter how late it was, or whether I was engrossed in a
film or something on the television, I’d happily start cooking. Ray knew that, if
he had asked for a cup of tea after 8pm, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. The
kitchen was closed to everyone – except Lee.
Sometimes, Ray would be upstairs in bed and would hear our laughter and the
clatter of pans; or the smell of bacon, egg and chips cooking would waft upstairs
and he’d come down to the kitchen. ‘I don’t believe it!’ he’d say, just like the