In Plain Sight by Dan Davies
Several years ago when I was working for BBC radio I took a call, off air from a listener. She told me she was ringing in to explain why she was going to refuse to pay her TV licence. She said it was due to abuse she suffered at the hands of Jimmy Savile. It was long before his death and the subsequent catalogue of his life of abusing. Even then though, and from memory it must have been the late 1990's, there were rumours about him. I spent a good few minutes listening to the caller, giving her time to speak. I recall tearful emotion in her voice but also a quiet anger. She wouldn't go into details about the abuse, where and when etc., and I gently told her she must report it to the authorities. I asked her if she would like to talk more to me about what happened, face to face with in an interview I could record. She replied that she would, if she was taken to court for refusing to pay her licence fee, as she would tell the magistrates the reason why. She gave me her name and number and I called her a few times but her mind had changed. She told me there was no point in refusing to pay the licence fee as no one would believe her story.
Sadly, my caller turned out to be one of scores, if not hundreds of teenagers abused by Savile. After all the TV docs and newspaper articles about him, Dan Davies' In Plain Sight is by far the most comprehensive account of Savile's life, what he was responsible for, how he managed it, and how police, BBC, hospitals, professional people failed to stop him despite some knowledge. He doesn't provide complete answers as to how Savile got away with it. It's clear from his own research and attempts to interview those people with knowledge that there are so many who still refuse to reveal the shocking truth.
Davies writes that he was fascinated by Savile from childhood, keeping scrapbooks of clippings about him but always sensing, he claims, something evil about him. His book is largely based on numerous interviews Savile gave him mainly at his flat in Leeds. He describes how difficult it was to get Savile to open up, but chillingly reveals how he gave clues not only to him but to other interviewers. He includes the well documented episodes of Savile brazenly abusing guests on his TV shows.
Savile's rise from a back street in Leeds, his short time as a miner and then the life in showbusiness from early party DJ through to TV and radio household name, charity fundraiser, friend of former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and of our now king Charles; it's all in the book and it's a gripping but unpleasant read. There are near graphic episodes Davies relates and you're filled with a sense of disgust, sadness and regret at so many lives ruined, some ended, by Savile's evil. You're also left with anger that those who did see what he was doing and reported it, were not believed. Why? Because either those it was reported to either dismissed the claims due to his great charitable works and the public adulation he commanded, or that they were in on it.
It's quite clear from Davies's book that a group of police officers were regular visitors to Savile's flat. He attempts to find out how deep into the police was Savile's influence. There's a similar suspicion of Savile and a group of local businessmen in Scarborough. Davies relates how nurses reported him interfering with hospital patients, in one case while a child's parent was present. He writes how a BBC producer saw acts being performed in a dressing room.
Davies also digs further than others by investigating whether Savile was a member of a paedophile ring, a group of powerful men including the former Liberal heavyweight politician Cyril Smith and former Conservative politicians, who abused youngsters trafficked to a south London house for abuse.
Revelatory is Davies's account of former sixties pirate Radio Caroline DJ Ray Teret, who, for many years both worked and acted with Jimmy Savile. Davies relates part of a court case against Teret for sex abuse in which the judge equivocally states that Savile and Teret abused victims together.
Davies only touches on Savile's religious faith, trying to explain that Savile followed the mediaeval belief in Catholicism of doing more good than bad in one's life as a way of getting to heaven. In that topic, I wrote a letter to The Tablet after Savile's death which was published, pointing out that confession, if Savile ever did confess, is only deemed true if the confession includes full redemption and sorrow, a plea for forgives, and a vow to never repeat. In Savile's case, his lifelong actions would make confession questionable. Davies writes that when his body was found, his fingers were crossed. I've been trying to work out how he managed to do that in the final throes of death.
Davies gives the reader a good insight into Savile's childhood, his family, his odd relationship with his mother, his lack of a relationship with his father, and only scant details of how he got on with older siblings. There's a hint of abuse within the family but no evidence is given.
Despite this being the definitive account of Savile, this book is lacking in those six areas. Despite the author's wealth of research from countless interviews, more forensic work and proving interviews are required of surviving family members, priests and figures in the church who he met and even confided in (though the rules of the confessional may sadly stunt that attempt), surviving business, police, hospital, charity officials and politicians who should be encouraged to reveal more, though they would probably refuse.
Why? Because we owe it to those who endure life, their days, their hopes, their futures ruined by Savile.
Also, while they're still alive, those surviving dj's from the 60's and 70's who may know more, should be approached. Davies has an account of one. I've spoken to a few myself and they're happy to talk about how they attended orgies in London and how when pirate radio fans came out to see them on the ships, the boys would go off the engine room and the girls to their cabins.
Though Savile wasn't a pirate radio DJ, he was there when the likes of the now discredited John Peel and others came ashore and developed and enjoyed the excesses of pop stardom Djs in the 1970's. Those DJs will tell you how women offered themselves to them, something which Davies describes as one of the temptations every DJ, on the radio or not, faced.
That leads me on to one final thought, which is a somewhat distasteful juxtaposition to the hordes of Savile's victims. It is that there were probably similar numbers who consensually cavorted and more with Savile. Davies doesn't touch on them, probably because they remain silent.