Much of the public reaction to the charging of Ian Huntley and Maxine Carr is based on lack of understanding and emotionalism - perhaps at the expense of justice, suggests Patricia Casey
Since the disappearance of Holly Wells and Jessica Chapman, knees have been jerked, assumptions have been made and conclusions reached which have little or no basis in reality. In the process, honesty - and ultimately justice - may become the casualties. The necessary cloak of secrecy around their deaths, for legal and emotional reasons, has further fuelled speculation, but the truth of what happened will only become apparent as the investigation progresses.
Early speculation, even before their tragic deaths were confirmed and when there was still a glimmer of hope, gave way almost to certainty that their disappearance was linked to a paedophilic crime.
Immediately, there were calls in Britain to limit Internet chatrooms so as to prevent the "grooming" of potential victims. At that point, it was thought that Holly and Jessica had been enticed from their homes through such a connection. When politicians, eager to see their successes bandied about, begin to draft the legislation, it may then become apparent to them that there was no Internet chatroom contact and that the girls' movements cannot be explained by any such enticement.
The paedophilic undertone has continued to dominate this sad event to the extent that newspapers have rehearsed the aftermath of the Sarah Payne murder, when a "name and shame" campaign was established by a tabloid newspaper. There have been calls for even greater screening of those working with children in Britain, as if the present assessment was inadequate.
For now, we simply have no information on why they left the house, and such calls for further legal sanctions are a mark of the helplessness felt by many; helplessness so profound that some action - any action - is believed to be better than none.
The Western world prides itself on its putative understanding of the basic principles of justice and fairness. Liberal democracies, of which Britain is ostensibly to the fore, have always subscribed to the principle of innocence until proven guilty.
Yet the hysterical scenes when Maxine Carr appeared before magistrates earlier this week belied this. The crowd was baying for blood; nostrils flared, they chanted slogans about rotting in hell and called for "a life for a life". Meanwhile, terrified children clung to each other as they tried to make sense of their parents' uncontrollable rage.
Ian Huntley is evoking more complex responses. Initially, he seemed a genuinely concerned local person, performing well during his media interviews. Later, he became a possible murderer.
In his case, the presumption of innocence is even more lacking, amid calls for the death penalty to be restored as newspaper polls suggest that 56 per cent of the British public now want this. Other conundrums have also presented themselves to the public as people speculate about what might happen to him in the future. There is an emerging belief that, having been sent to Rampton high-security hospital, Huntley will not stand trial and ultimately will not have to face the rigour of the law.
However, such a conclusion is not warranted and stems from a lack of understanding of the procedures involved in many murder cases. Huntley has been sent for psychiatric assessment at the request of the police. The media coverage strongly hinted that he was suspected of feigning psychiatric illness, but we do not know for certain the reason for this request and must accept that it was a valid one, coming from the police and agreed upon by the psychiatric team.
The belief that psychiatry is a "soft touch" for those seeking to evade the law is a common one and was articulated very forcibly during the trial of Peter Sutcliffe, the "Yorkshire Ripper". Ultimately, he did require transfer from prison to a high-security hospital, where he remains to this day with a diagnosis of schizophrenia. During the trial of Brendan O'Donnell, similar sentiments were expressed here.
However, the evaluation of Huntley will be rigorous, consisting of constant surveillance by a team of forensically trained doctors, nurses, psychologists and occupational therapists. His mail will be read and his telephone calls intercepted.
The ultimate decision regarding his fitness to plead is governed by the Criminal Procedures (Insanity and Unfitness to Plead) Act, 1991. If, following the assessment, an opinion is reached that he does not understand the charges, that he does not understand the effect of a guilty/not guilty plea, that he cannot instruct counsel, follow evidence or challenge a juror, he will be deemed unfit to plead. This would not result in his discharge from hospital, but would demand continuing monitoring there.
There would then be a trial to examine the facts of the case. In addition, there will be the added protection of an evaluation by a psychiatrist acting for the prosecution. If it transpires that Huntley was malingering, he will stand trial, and his assumptions about psychiatric illness, what it is and its place in the forensic process, will have been as misplaced as those of the general public.
Anger is understandable when innocent lives are lost. The very public manner in which the investigation was conducted by the police and the ordinariness of the children wearing their Manchester United jerseys made their disappearance very immediate and personal. It was as if our own children had gone missing.
Emotions are at fever-pitch at present. In such a climate, common procedures are misconstrued, calls for further laws abound and there is a clamour for vengeance. Justice could ultimately suffer.
Patricia Casey is professor of psychiatry at University College, Dublin, and at the Mater Hospital