Newsmonster has uncovered a dossier of disturbing letters written by Nilsen in which he admits his book would be an “ordeal” for the friends and relatives of his victims. In 14 separate letters Nilsen, 60, who recently confessed that 14-year old Stephen Holmes was the first of 12 victims, never once expresses remorse over his crimes.

Warped Nilsen shows more concern for the health of his pet Budgie Hamish than for his victims. And today’s shocking revelations show why the Home Office ban on him publishing his 3,250 page Nilsen Trilogy should never be overturned by the European Court of Human Rights.

Sick Nilsen plans to go to the court claiming his autobiography will not cause distress to the relatives of his victims – the main reason for the ban. But in one letter the twisted killer admits he knows his book WILL cause distress when he says his crimes are …”graphically unpleasant and many would be well advised to leave it alone (especially the friends and relatives of the deceased).”

He rants against authority boasting that he will “never be broken” and reveals that even he is filled with “shock and self-loathing” over his monstrous crimes.

And in another astonishing passage Britain’s most notorious serial killer claims he killed because he is a “maverick” who “spent too long in the Sahara Desert waiting for rain” and that “one day the sun got to me”.

Astonishingly he pours out his grief over the death of his gay lover David Martin who hanged himself in his cell in 1984 saying: “His has been a shattering loss to all those who loved him.”

Even more amazingly he writes with concern about his pet budgie Hamish falling ill after being poisoned by pecking at the prison bars covered in lead paint, saying :”I have asked for a vet to see Hamish because the paint has attacked his nervous system and his feet have gone numb.” But there is never a word of sympathy for his victims or their relatives.

The letters were written to Ralph and Joan Martin, the parents of his dead gay lover David Martin.

Nilsen opened his heart to his friend’s mother and father  after Martin’s death and in so doing revealed in black and white the perverted workings of one of the sickest minds in British criminal history.

Stephen Holmes was the first of twelve victims murdered over a five year period, starting in 1978 with the teenager’s slaying.

Holmes was not even formally identified until last year (2005).

Police believe Nilsen, who was convicted and jailed for life in 1983, killed at least 15 men, including rent boys, students and the homeless.

Nilsen, a civil servant in a job centre who had previously worked in the army and police, lured them to his home in Cricklewood and Muswell Hill, north-west London, before killing them usually by strangulation.

He sexually interfered with their corpses which he then dismembered before hiding body parts under his floorboards and then burning them in his garden.

He was only caught after moving house without a garden where he stuffed body parts in the drains instead of burning them.

After complaints about the smell a plumber found 30 to 40 pieces of flesh leading to Nilsen’s arrest.

The letters written by Nilsen, prisoner number 1362006, reveal why his book should never be published.

In one later dated February 18th, 1985, Nilsen refers to the book about his murders by Brian Masters called Killing For Company and says even his blood runs cold at his gruesome crimes.

It is the strongest argument yet for the killer never to publish his own story and it has come from his own pen.

He says of Masters’ book: “It is regretted that truth always hurts and I must give you advanced warning that my mother was quite ill after she had read parts of it.

“It is definitely not suitable reading for anyone of a nervous emotional disposition. Reliving past events filled even me with shock and self-loathing. Much of its contents are graphically unpleasant and many would be well advised to leave it alone (especially the friends and relatives of the deceased). It doesn’t portray me in a favourable light and that is the price of truth.”

And in another letter dated October 7th, 1985 he says: “I’m sorry that you had to go through the harrowing ordeal reading Killing For Company,” again virtually admitting that his crimes were so horrific his own book should never be published.

Sickeningly any remorse he feels is reserved for his dead gay prison lover David Martin.

He says he feels responsible for his death.

He writes:” I knew he needed me but I feel I could have done so much more to cheer him up – to bring him out of his depression.

“I knew that mentally he was sinking lower by cutting himself off from everyone, including me.”

In the letter written from Wormwood Scrubbs on April 12th, 1984, before he was moved Wakefield Prison and then Full Sutton prison near York, he goes on: “His has been a shattering loss to all those who loved him and miss him deeply. I just can’t begin to even grasp the fact that he’s gone from us. I sat here blankly sometimes still trying to handle it all.

“There is pain, there is guilt, there is emptiness and there is regret.”

Chillingly he adds: “It was as if all the warmth had been drained out of me.

“I feel guilty about not having been at Parkhurst to support him during his hour of need.”

And he says of his gay pal: “The limits of mere mortality will never erase from my mind the sound of his voice and the memory of his infectious smile.

“The only good thing that ever happened to me was David.”

Martin, 35, became notorious after escaping from his prison cell on Christmas Eve 1982.

He picked the lock and climbed on to the roof of the neighbouring London Palladium minutes before he was due in court and walked away disguised as a woman. He was facing a charge of attempting to murder of a policeman when he did a runner.

During the hunt for Martin the innocent Steven Waldorf, a 26-year-old film editor, was shot in the head five times by police in a case of mistaken identity as his car sat in a traffic jam in London. Miraculously, he lived.

Martin was soon captured but unable to face doing time, and despite his affair with Nilsen, hanged himself before his case came to trial in 1984.

Sick Nilsen drones on about being dumped by another gay prison lover he names only as Jimmy B and who he took up with after Martin’s death.

In a letter dated November 5th, 1985 he says: “These days Jimmy keeps himself to his cell with his new lover and he resents greatly just seeing me around which is a constant reminder to him of what he is.

“My best friend of 12 months duration has cut me down because my psychological usefulness to him has given way to some other temporary attraction.

“Jimmy B dismissed our friendship as if it had never happened.”

Alarmingly Nilsen brags in another letter dated January 12th, 1988: “The system has not broken me. It will take more than the Home Office to break an old soldier.”

Disturbingly he adds: “I will prevail over the limited subjugation of grey walls and bars and the official predatory rampages of any system. People are real – systems are nothing.”

And in an earlier letter dated August 16th 1984 he arrogantly states: “I have no need of self pity. I like to receive adversity as an intellectual challenge. I might not survive it all intact – but that’s life.”

And in another letter dated November 12th, 1984, the monster even has a pop at God: “He says: “There can be no comfort in religion because God cannot change the past(therefore his omnipotent power is subject to severe limitations).”

His incredible conceit comes across in a later dated December 12th, 1984 in which he explains his crimes away without a word of sympathy or remorse for his victims or their relatives.

He says: “I suppose I was always a maverick in a conforming, conventional world.

“In one respect I am the eternal optimist who spent most of his life standing in the middle of the Sahara Desert waiting for rain

“If you do that kind of thing long enough then the pressure of a ceaseless sun will get to you one day.

“One day the sun did get to me and that, in a nutshell, is why I wound up in gaol.”

Possibly more disturbing is his own description of himself as a child growing up in Scotland.

On October 18th 1984 he wrote: “I suppose I must have seemed like a strange child with my quiet, self conscious, solitary, withdrawn ways.

“When I was a small boy I was quiet and well behaved at home in all outward appearances but fell more and more into my own secret world of fantasy.

“I seemed to be one of nature’s rebels who felt instinctively different from the rest of the ‘heard’.

I suppose even at that early age I felt guilty and somehow unclear about my natural emotional feelings and, suppressed within, they had no natural outlet for expression except my childhood fantasy. One disguises these things even from parents.”

Comments (0) >>

Show/Hide comments

Write comment

Show/Hide comment form

Name

Comment

Write the displayed characters

Add Comment