It is every parent’s nightmare.
A child vanishing – in this case as she walked home, just yards from her front door – leaving the unthinkable and unimaginable swirling around your thoughts.
Over the years as a reporter, I had visited many parents in the depths of despair. Children killed in accidents, others gone after terrible illness. And families worried for youngsters who had upped and left, for a variety of reasons.
But Victoria Hall was different. From the outset it was certain she was not a runaway – it appeared she had been abducted.
A teenager’s piercing screams in the dark hours of an autumn night, and the throaty roar of a car exhaust as it sped away left police fearing the worst as they began the hunt for the schoolgirl.
For the next few days, her distraught parents Graham and Lorinda clung on to the faint hope that this was an abduction, that she was being held somewhere, that she would be returned.
I visited the Halls’ home in Trimley St Mary the day after sixth former Victoria, 17, went missing. Making my way through a knot of waiting journalists outside, the police officer at the door said the family were waiting for me. I was the first to interview them.
Graham and Lorinda were in a state of shock, disbelief, sitting in a world of unreality – the kind of situation you see in a TV drama, not appear in in your own lounge. Tearfully, they told what they knew. Lorinda had gone to bed, Graham had been watching Match of the Day, waiting for Victoria to arrive home, but had fallen asleep.
In the morning, they realised her bed had not been slept in.
Victoria was a model daughter, a warm-hearted girl who worked hard at her studies at Orwell High School, cared for her family, loved her friends, and had a “golden smile”.
I had written a story for the papers about her when she was eight or nine and won a dancing award.
The next few days were frenetic. Fifty police officers on door-to-door inquiries, extensive searches with tracker dogs.
They interviewed all Victoria’s friends, scoured CCTV footage and spoke to countless witnesses who had seen her and best friend Gemma Algar at the Bandbox nightclub in Felixstowe, buying chips at the Bodrum Grill, and walking home to Trimley St Mary, carrying their shoes, laughing and chatting in the warm night air, parting at the junction of High Road and Faulkeners Way.
It felt unreal to see so much activity in the usually quiet and safe village. You could feel the shock of the community, a stillness and sadness thick with uncertainty and tension, waiting for news. But despite their efforts, the police had no idea where Victoria had gone.
I spoke to Gemma Algar, 17, composed but stunned, terribly frightened by what had happened on September 19, 1999, the abduction of her best friend. Victoria had promised, “I'll ring you in the morning”, as she headed home but they never spoke or saw each other again.
The man leading the hunt, Det Supt Roy Lambert told me: “It is possible that she may have got into someone’s car willingly and also possible that she was grabbed and put into the car. You can speculate on any amount of different scenarios but we can only work on what we know and that way we won’t miss anything vital.”
Five days later, the most heart-wrenching news of all. Her body, naked, was found by dog walker Jim Armour in a water-filled ditch 25 miles away at Creeting St Peter. The abduction became a murder investigation – the biggest at that stage in Suffolk Constabulary’s history.
As villagers worried that the murderer could strike again, I carried on reporting the efforts to find her killer – post mortems (inconclusive, showing only “some degree of asphyxiation”), information appeals, fresh photos, CCTV images – and spoke to her friends, and attended Victoria’s funeral when a community came together to grieve.
Graham and Lorinda repeatedly told me that they didn’t want Victoria to be forgotten – they wanted to keep her memory alive in a way that would benefit others.
After discussions with the family, the Evening Star launched a memorial appeal. The aim was to build a new pavilion for the Trimley Red Devils football club, a lasting legacy that would bear her name and bring enormous benefit to so many young sports players locally.
Victoria regularly attended Red Devils' matches at Stennetts Memorial Playing Field to cheer on her brother Steven and friends who played, while her mum, as club secretary, and dad, as president, had been closely involved with the management of the club for many years.
A charitable trust was set up with myself, Star editor Nigel Pickover, Red Devils’ chairman Bob Race and Victoria’s parents as trustees.
The public support was overwhelming, raising £100,000-plus. People of all ages held sales, collections, sponsored events, donated their pocket money. Councils and businesses gave grants. The Football Foundation gave £160,000 to the building fund and £50,000 towards creation of an area mini soccer academy.
Five years after its launch, the appeal created a modern pavilion that enabled the club to attract many more youngsters and set up a girls' team and senior side and ensured Victoria would be remembered forever.
Share