Meeting of the Parliament 28 June 2023
George Beattie is innocent. Two years ago, those were the first words that I spoke in this chamber. I suspect that all MSPs remember their maiden speech and I am sure that we all carefully consider what we intend to say, so why did I begin my time as an MSP by saying that George Beattie is innocent of the murder of a young woman called Margaret McLaughlin? It is quite simply because I firmly believe that George Beattie is the victim of a miscarriage of justice—a miscarriage that casts a dark shadow across Scotland’s justice system and has done so for half a century.
Before I get much further, I would like to acknowledge the attendance of some guests this evening. George Beattie is in poor health and cannot be here, but his elder brother Robert Beattie and Robert’s wife, Anne, are in the public gallery. Robert and his family believe that George Beattie is innocent.
Also present is Peter Hill, the journalist who produced the BBC “Rough Justice” documentaries, which first shone a light on George Beattie’s conviction. Peter believes that George Beattie is innocent.
We are also joined by Bob Alexander and his wife, Elizabeth. In 1973, Bob was engaged to Margaret McLaughlin. Bob believes that George Beattie is innocent.
Let us go back to the summer evening of 6 July 1973. Margaret had left her family home in Carluke’s Glenburn Terrace to catch a train to Glasgow. During the short walk, beside a small, wooded area known as Colonel’s Glen, she was murdered. She was stabbed 19 times.
The police officer in charge of the investigation was Chief Superintendent William Muncie, who happened to come from Carluke. Muncie was a celebrated detective, who revelled in his 100 per cent conviction rate for the crime of murder. He made his name by catching 1950s serial killer Peter Manuel, who was hanged for the murder of seven people. Very quickly, George Beattie was in his sights, and less than three months later, Beattie was convicted of murder.
George was aged just 19 at the time. He was a cheerful, happy-go-lucky figure in Carluke. He loved trainspotting and model railways. His sister Ena tells me that he is a “big softie”. One of eight children, he was doted on by his mum, Jeanie, who passed away five years ago.
It is important to understand that George is of below-average intelligence, according to psychological assessments. Such tests found him to be a slow learner and with a tendency to provide elaborate descriptions of events. They also showed that he was prone to changing his answers when subjected to interrogative pressure. He was interviewed alone by the police, which would never happen today. He supposedly confessed, telling a strange story about seeing men with mirrored top hats.
I met George three years ago, while working as a journalist with STV News. He was gentle and polite, and almost childlike in his manner. It was obvious that I was not face to face with some savage killer trying to play the system.
Accompanying George that day was Peter Hill. Peter was protective of George and passionate about his innocence. With an encyclopaedic knowledge of the case, Peter did most of the talking.
I refer members to speeches that were made in the House of Commons by the late Jimmy Hood MP. Alongside Peter Hill, Jimmy Hood campaigned for years to clear George’s name. He savaged William Muncie in the Commons, ripping apart the police investigation and its lack of integrity. In the seven minutes that are available to me today, it would be impossible to go into the necessary level of detail, but had today’s standards been used, George Beattie would have been quickly eliminated as a suspect. By today’s standards, there is absolutely no chance that he would have ended up in the dock of the High Court and, from there, a Barlinnie prison cell.
Put simply, there was no forensic evidence and no corroboration, and his legal defence was woeful. Damningly, it was later found that the police had suppressed evidence that supported George Beattie’s innocence.
For many years, the campaign dropped off the public radar. The world moved on.