When Innocence Ends: The Case of Mary Bell and the Scotswood Murders
- dthholland
- 22 hours ago
- 8 min read
In the summer of 1968, as children ran barefoot through the derelict streets of Scotswood, a working-class neighbourhood in Newcastle upon Tyne, two boys would never return home. Their deaths would not only shock a community but also shake a nation’s belief in childhood innocence. At the centre of this disturbing case stood Mary Bell – just 11 years old when she was convicted of manslaughter – a child herself, yet capable of unfathomable violence. Her story is one of neglect, abuse, and psychological damage that would manifest in ways no one could have anticipated.
A Troubled Beginning
Mary Flora Bell was born on 26 May 1957 into chaos. Her mother, Elizabeth “Betty” Bell (née McCrickett), was a sex worker with a well-known presence on the Newcastle scene. Often away on “business” in Glasgow, Betty left Mary and her half-siblings in the unreliable care of various adults, including William “Billy” Bell, a violent alcoholic with a string of criminal convictions. Though Mary believed Billy to be her biological father, this was never confirmed, and she was a baby when he married her mother.
Mary’s early years were defined by rejection and danger. Her aunt, Isa McCrickett, recalled that immediately after her birth, Betty refused to hold her, reportedly exclaiming to hospital staff, “Take the thing away from me!” From infancy, Mary was the subject of suspicion within her family, who believed Betty was either wilfully careless or deliberately trying to harm her child. There were repeated incidents: falls, overdoses on sleeping pills, and even one episode where Mary was handed over to a mentally unstable woman via an informal adoption, only to be rescued by her older sister Catherine.
Despite all this, Betty refused to let anyone else take custody. By the mid-1960s, things turned far darker. According to later testimony and Mary’s own account in Cries Unheard (1998), Betty—rumoured to have been involved in dominatrix sex work, allegedly began allowing her clients to sexually abuse Mary during sadomasochistic sessions. The trauma Mary experienced in these years would lay the foundation for the disturbing events that followed.
Early Warning Signs
Mary’s behaviour began to raise eyebrows both at home and at Delaval Road Junior School. She was prone to sudden mood swings, chronic bedwetting, and erratic, often violent actions toward her peers. Children described how she would sometimes try to strangle them during play, and on one occasion, she reportedly tried to suffocate a girl by stuffing sand down her throat. These weren’t just idle threats. Her classmate recalled how Mary’s sudden changes in demeanour – her stare becoming fixed, her body rigid – acted as an ominous signal that an attack was coming.
Her closest companion was 13-year-old Norma Joyce Bell (no relation), a neighbour with learning difficulties. Together, the pair became known for mischievous and sometimes troubling behaviour, but few could have predicted how far things would go.
First Signs of Violence
On 11 May 1968, a three-year-old boy was found wandering dazed and bleeding near a disused air raid shelter in the Scotswood area of Newcastle. When questioned, the little boy said he had been playing atop the shelter with two girls—Mary Bell and Norma Bell—before he fell, or possibly was pushed, from the roof, a drop of around seven feet. The fall had left him with a deep gash on his head. Though he couldn’t say for certain which girl had pushed him, he made it clear he hadn’t fallen by accident.
That same evening, police received further troubling reports. The parents of three other young girls contacted the authorities to allege that Mary and Norma had attempted to strangle their daughters while they played in a local sandpit. One girl was seen turning purple as Mary squeezed her neck, and it reportedly took intervention from Norma to get her to stop. Norma later admitted that Mary had asked, chillingly:
“What happens if you choke someone—do they die?”
In any other setting, these allegations might have set off alarm bells. But at the time, the police viewed the incidents as little more than “childish roughhousing.” Despite the injuries and multiple complaints, both Mary and Norma were issued a warning and sent home. It was, in hindsight, a profound failure of judgement. The authorities underestimated the seriousness of the girls’ behaviour, brushing off violent signs that would escalate dramatically within a fortnight.
The Death of Martin Brown
Just two weeks later, on 25 May 1968, four-year-old Martin Brown was found dead in a derelict house at 85 St. Margaret’s Road—a partially demolished building awaiting clearance as part of the city’s urban redevelopment plans. His body was discovered by a group of local children who had wandered into the house while exploring.
Martin was lying on his back with his arms outstretched. There were no visible injuries apart from some foam around his mouth and a few flecks of blood, leading initial investigators to wonder whether he had accidentally swallowed something poisonous. A workman named John Hall, who lived nearby, tried to resuscitate the child but failed.
Shortly after Hall’s arrival, Mary and Norma appeared at the doorway. They were shooed out of the building, but they made their way to the home of Martin’s aunt, Rita Finlay, and delivered a grim message:
“One of your sister’s bairns has just had an accident. We think it’s Martin, but we can’t tell because there’s blood all over him.”
A post-mortem examination was carried out the next day, but the cause of death was inconclusive. No internal injuries or signs of trauma could be confirmed. The coroner returned an open verdict. The idea that another child might have killed Martin wasn’t seriously entertained at this stage.
A Disturbing Pattern Emerges
The day after Martin’s death—coinciding with Mary’s 11th birthday—she and Norma broke into a local nursery on Woodland Crescent. Gaining entry by removing tiles from the roof, they overturned furniture, tore up books, and daubed ink and paint across the walls. More significantly, they left four handwritten notes behind. Though the spelling and grammar were crude, the messages were sinister in tone. One note read:
“I murder SO That I may come back.”
Another declared:
“WE did murder martain brown fuckof you bastard.”
At the time, police and nursery staff dismissed the messages as tasteless pranks. But these notes—written in a child’s hand and left at the scene of vandalism—were an early, unheeded confession.
Days later, Mary and Norma took their macabre interest further by calling at Martin Brown’s house. When Martin’s mother told them he was dead, Mary reportedly replied:
“I know, I want to see him in his coffin.”
The Murder of Brian Howe
On 31 July 1968, just over two months after Martin’s death, another local child vanished. Three-year-old Brian Howe had been playing outside his home on St. Margaret’s Road with his siblings and the family dog. He was last seen in the company of Mary and Norma Bell.
When Brian didn’t come home for tea, his family and neighbours began a frantic search. By late evening, at around 11:10 p.m., a local search party discovered his body between two concrete slabs on the “Tin Lizzie”—a rubble-strewn wasteland used as a makeshift playground by local children.
Brian had been strangled. His lips were tinged blue, a sign of cyanosis, and small bruises and cuts marked his neck. More disturbingly, his genitals had been partially mutilated, several sections of hair had been cut from his scalp, and a crude letter “M” had been carved into his abdomen with a razor blade. A pair of broken scissors was found near the body.
The injuries were light in terms of force—leading pathologists to suspect they were inflicted by someone small and lacking strength. Forensic analysis of Brian’s clothing revealed grey fibres that matched a dress belonging to Mary, and maroon fibres traced back to Norma’s skirt. This was enough to place them both at the scene, but it was Mary’s own statements that would raise further alarm.
The Fatal Slip
When questioned by police, Mary tried to shift suspicion onto another boy. She claimed to have seen him playing with Brian and described him as “covered in grass and weeds” and holding a pair of scissors. But detectives grew suspicious when she mentioned the broken scissors—details that had not been released publicly. It was clear Mary knew more than she was letting on.
The police already knew Mary and Norma were the last to be seen with Brian. And now Mary had revealed specific knowledge of the crime scene. The case was tightening around her.
Norma’s Confession
On 4 August 1968, Norma Bell broke. Her parents contacted police to say she wanted to speak. In her interview, Norma told detectives that Mary had taken her to the “Tin Lizzie,” shown her Brian’s body, and bragged about what she’d done.
Mary, she claimed, had said she “enjoyed” strangling the boy, then used a razor blade and the broken scissors to mutilate him. Norma even drew diagrams of the wounds—illustrations that precisely matched the coroner’s findings. She also led police to the hidden razor blade, still concealed at the crime scene.
The next day, Mary was arrested. When officers confronted her with inconsistencies in her previous account, she lashed out:
“You’re trying to brainwash me. I’ll get a solicitor to get me out of this.”
Forensic evidence backed Norma’s story. Both girls’ clothing matched the fibres found on Brian’s body. The same grey fibres were also found on Martin Brown, linking Mary to both crimes.
Trial and Conviction
The trial began on 5 December 1968 at Newcastle Assizes. Mary Bell was 11; Norma Bell was 13. Despite protests from the defence, the judge allowed their names and images to be published. The prosecution argued both girls were guilty, although Mary was clearly the dominant one.
Mary claimed she had only watched the murders. Norma insisted she had been too frightened to intervene. The jury found Norma not guilty, while Mary was convicted of two counts of manslaughter on grounds of diminished responsibility. She was sentenced to be detained “at Her Majesty’s pleasure” – an open-ended sentence usually reserved for the most dangerous offenders.
At just 11 years and six months old, Mary Bell became the youngest female killer in modern British history.
After Prison
Mary served her sentence in a series of secure units and prisons, claiming later that she was abused by staff and inmates at Red Bank, where she was the only girl. In 1977, she briefly escaped with another inmate, dyed her hair, and went on the run for several days before being recaptured.
She was released in 1980, aged 23, and given a new identity. In 1984, she had a daughter, whose life was turned upside down in 1998 when journalists exposed Mary’s identity and location. The family was forced into hiding. In 2003, Mary Bell won a lifetime anonymity order to protect herself, her daughter, and later her granddaughter.
Mary Bell’s life was later documented in Cries Unheard by journalist Gitta Sereny (1998), which included interviews with Mary, her family, and professionals involved in her case. Bell did not claim innocence. She acknowledged the horror of her actions and the role her abusive upbringing played. She insisted this did not excuse the murders but hoped it helped explain them.
As of today, Mary Bell lives somewhere in the UK under a new identity. Her case remains a chilling example of what happens when early trauma, neglect, and abuse go unaddressed. It also sparked important debates on the age of criminal responsibility, media intrusion, and the rehabilitation of juvenile offenders.
Sources:
Sereny, Gitta. Cries Unheard: The Story of Mary Bell. Macmillan, 1998.
Harrison, James. Mary Bell: To Kill a Child. The Guardian, 1998.
“Mary Bell: The 11-Year-Old Strangler.” Crime+Investigation UK.
BBC Archive: “1968 – The Mary Bell Case”
Northumbria Police archives, public records, and Newcastle Assizes transcripts.
