Deborah Orr on Barry George: Why was this unstable and messed-up man left largely to fend for himself?

There is a chance now that, guilty or innocent, this man may get the help he needs. That is a terrible indictment against the way our mental health provision works. This column was written by Deborah Orr in 2001

(Rex Features)

Perhaps it is no surprise that a crime that seemed utterly inexplicable and completely unbelievable should turn out to have been perpetrated by a man whose guilt also seems inexplicable and unbelievable.

Only one thing seems certain. The guilty verdict delivered against Barry George, now sentenced to life imprisonment for the killing of Jill Dando, was not the verdict that was widely expected.

Nor is it a verdict that draws a line under this investigation as cleanly as might be hoped, based as it is on the most tenuous of forensic evidence, alongside circumstantial evidence that does not appear utterly convincing.

Long before the trial began, local and criminal gossip suggested that the police had got the wrong man. George was portrayed as a victim, a simpleton, a fantasist, a local loony, stereotypical fodder for a "fit-up". The police, rumour said, had finally alighted on him because there was no one else and because he had lived near by. That, it was alleged, was the reason it had taken a year to make a charge.

The word from inside the prison where he had been held on remand was that he had spent all of his time in the medical wing, heavily sedated and speaking to no one, mentally ill, pathetic, an object of pity even to the criminals who lived under the same roof.

George was, and is, considered to to a man of low intelligence and therefore of limited ability to plan and commit audacious schemes. This particular murder seemed to have been ruthlessly planned, coolly executed and expertly covered up.

Surely this was quite out of keeping with the scatty and random manner in which George had been alleged later to have attempted to establish an alibi, or even with his boastful hints about his involvement? The former, in fact, was the suspicious behaviour that prompted local people to alert the police to George's possible involvement in the murder in the first place.

Again, even before the trial, it was rumoured that the forensic science evidence that had been gathered by the police was hardly credible.

During the trial, there were first of all rumours that the judge was going to throw out the case. Even yesterday morning I was told that various experts considered that the judge may yet order a retrial. Instead, after hearing eight weeks of evidence, and deliberating for five days, a jury delivered a majority verdict.

Unsurprisingly, George's defence immediately announced that there would be an appeal. Ms Dando's fiancé, Alan Farthing, has said he hopes the verdict will be a "milestone" for all those recovering from their grief at her loss. Her brother, Nigel, likewise hopes for some peace.

One desperately wishes, for the sake of all those close to Ms Dando, that all this could be different. But instead there is not likely to be peace for anyone unless George, as many criminals do once they have been found guilty, feels the need to confess. Perhaps he will. That would certainly be the best possible outcome in this wretched case.

Because now, with the trial over, and a deluge of background information about George gushing out into the public domain, he does look like just the sort of person who might have committed such a cruel and unusual crime.

From the beginning it seemed clear that Ms Dando had been killed for some reason connected to her fame. George's mental difficulties – all sorts of illnesses from childhood hyperactivity, to Asperger's syndrome, from personality disorder to psychopathology are now being cited – are not in question.

Already, this case is being discussed as one that points up our tremendous shortcomings in dealing with the mentally ill, particularly when symptoms show up during childhood, particularly when mental illnesses of various kinds lead people into the orbit of the criminal justice system, to no avail or help.

Floral tributes left near Jill Dando's home after her murder (Fiona Hanson/PA Archive/PA Images)

In fact, one irony here is that a woman such as Ms Dando herself would feel great compassion for the child and the man who never got the help with his problems that he needed if disaster was to be averted. With the wisdom of hindsight, it does seem strange that a man such as George had been left largely to fend for himself, when it turns out that he was as unstable as he is now portrayed. In his summing up, the judge described him as "unpredictable and dangerous"; what a pity this was not realised before.

The saddest aspect of this case, apart of course from the loss of a vital and lovely woman, is that, in a decent prison system, this verdict should be the best thing that has happened to George in his life so far.

George has always been imprisoned, by the limitations imposed by his own messed-up mind. It is heartbreaking that his very evident mental problems should hitherto never have received a solid diagnosis – let alone adequate treatment.

There is a chance now that, guilty or innocent, this man may get the help he needs. That is a terrible indictment against the way our mental health provision works. It is devoutly to be hoped that this verdict is not a terrible indictment of any of our other systems. There will never be enough evidence for absolute certainty. But there is surely enough evidence for absolute compassion as this man spends his days in captivity.

This column was written by Deborah Orr in 2001