Sunnyfields Lanarkshire
PSYCHIATRIC REPORT ON ANDREW GOW DATE OF BIRTH: JUNE 23, 1965
I hereby certify on soul and conscience that at the request of the Procurator Fiscal, Glasgow, I examined Mr. Andrew Gow in Barlinnie prison 2/13/1994 and that the following is a true report.
I am recognized in terms of Section 20 of the Mental Health (Scotland) Act 1984.
The report that follows is based upon statements that Gow made to me during my meeting with him and my only other source of information is certain background details provided for me by the Procurator Fiscal at Glasgow. The fact that I record Mr. Gow’s statements here does not mean that I accept them as being true and accurate.
THE CHARGE
I understand that Mr. Gow faces several concurrent charges of murder. He will not discuss the charges. Although he refuses to talk about it when questioned, he claims that he does understand the nature of the charges, that they are for murder, and that he fully remembers the events of the nights in question. Questioned about the charges, he smiles inappropriately but is aware of the meaning of murder and can recite the names of the women he is charged with killing. He says he never met any of them and had not heard of them before he was charged with their murders. Asked what the women had in common he says they were all prostitutes. Asked about his attitudes to prostitution he shrugs and says he wouldn’t want his sisters doing it. He claims to have a full memory for all events and was in a normal state of health throughout the period charged.
FAMILY AND SOCIAL BACKGROUND
Mr. Gow grew up in Bridgeton. His father had a drink problem and separated from his family when Mr. Gow was eight. His mother does not drink. He has three sisters, one older and two younger. He states that his childhood was unhappy. He blames his mother’s reliance on his looking after the other children for his failure to do well at school. He has worked as a minicab driver since school. His father died of cancer two years ago. He has fallen out with his mother and sisters because of a dispute between them and his wife. He seems quite bitter about his family’s unwillingness to accept his wife. Mr. Gow and his wife have no children.
PAST MEDICAL HISTORY
There is no history of psychiatric treatment or contact of any kind. He attempted suicide when he was twelve by taking an overdose of acetaminophen. His mother took him to Casualty and claimed he had taken them by accident. He does not recall why he took the overdose. There is no past history of physical illness.
ALCOHOL AND DRUG HISTORY
Regarding alcohol, he told me he used to drink, sometimes heavily, but “got a fright” after his arrest for drunk and disorderly conduct and stopped drinking. He has never taken drugs. He has been offered them in prison but does not want them.
BEHAVIOR PATTERN
He told me that he does not want to discuss the charges with me but is fully able to discuss them with his lawyer and understands what is about to happen in the trial. He is fully oriented and aware of his surroundings during interview. He is a healthy-looking man who, when not discussing the charges, smiles readily and appropriately and presents well.
He performed well in the reading skill and memory functioning. His handwriting is neat.
There was no evidence of abnormality either of the form or content of his thinking and no evidence that he has ever experienced perceptual disorders.
There was no evidence of primary abnormality in his mood in either direction.
OPINION
Gow is sane and fit to plead.
There was no evidence of mental illness or mental handicap.
There are no psychiatric grounds for diminished responsibility.
An EEG examination is not indicated.
J. Compton, MD MRC Psych, DCh.
Physician Superintendent
Reports like this one are being drawn up about Susie right now. I wonder what they’ll say about our home life.
1. Husband is unemployed/unemployable.
2. A dispute about her husband has led to tensions with her sole surviving relative, her Aunt Trisha.
3. Her husband is sticking by her even though she was having an affair with a half-man/half-monkey-type creature.
There must be something in among all the dross in here; something Susie doesn’t want me to know about. I’ve been through all the computer files in the “My Documents” file and they’re all cases, notes, timetables, research ideas, stuff like that. If there is a faint possibility that we could base an appeal on something in here, it’s got to be worth my looking through it, whatever she says. She can’t be objecting on the grounds that this stuff is confidential. She can hardly take a hard line on patient confidentiality, given that she was dressing up like a tart and giving interviews about Gow to lads’ mags.
It occurred to me while I was bathing Margie: Susie had a lock on the door and a computer password, which suggests that there might be something in the room, not just in the computer, that she doesn’t want me to see. I’ll start at one end and work my way around the walls.
I’ve spent the day with Mum and Dad and Trisha, being chirpy to reassure them all that I’m all right, that they can actually go home. We took Margie to the Haughhead center and let her run amok in the playroom. Mum and Dad like it out there because it’s warm and everything’s indoors. They wanted to leave Trisha behind and spend a bit of time just the four of us but it seemed so unkind to leave her out. We were talking about it in the kitchen and she came in to make a cup of tea, clearly feeling excluded, staying away from the table and looking out of the window with her arms crossed. I invited her to come out with us, and she pretended that she might have something else to do before agreeing enthusiastically. I wish she got on better with Mum so that they could go clothes shopping and I could get a chat with Dad. Trisha isn’t warm, but she is nice to Margie. When we got to the mall, she watched Margie climbing about in the playroom for nearly forty minutes while Dad and I walked around the supermarket and Mum went looking for an electric blanket to take back to Spain.
It’s scary spending long tracts of time with Dad; it reminds me how nervous and elderly he is. He’s lost half a foot in the past three years, and we’re not allowed to mention it because of the implication that his bones might snap in a high wind. But I know it’s not brittle bones or bad hips that make him old, it’s the fear. He treads carefully, is nervous around rough children, tries not to lift heavy stuff. In the supermarket he came to a complete stop at a spill of milk. I saw it happen to Mrs. Wilkens. Once the fear gets hold of them, they start to think that every fast-running child or hot bath or mild bout of diarrhea is the start of an inexorable descent into indignity. The fear is all-pervasive until they’re sitting in all afternoon watching the matinees on TV, afraid to leave the house in case they die.
I’m visiting Susie tomorrow, and I don’t want to fall asleep because then the morning will come sooner. Mum and Dad have insisted on accompanying me, saying that they’ll look after Margie while we’re in the car. Coincidentally, a big antiques fair is taking place nearby on the same day and they might just pop along to look while we’re in visiting. Trisha has told Margie that she will see her mummy, so there’s no backing out. Each time I think of simple questions to ask about the food and conditions, another, bolder, question leapfrogs to the tip of my tongue. What did I ever do to you? How could you come home and look at me in the evenings? Why were you fucking Gow? But Margie’ll be there, and Susie will pay scant attention to me. It occurred to me as I lay awake and burning-eyed on the settee that she only stayed with me for the sake of Margie. She was counting on my bringing up her child for her while she got on with her life, having affairs and progressing in her career. I’m like Yeni but paid better.