All language subtitles for Broadmoor.2024.S01E04.1080p.MY5.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-RAWR_track3_[eng]

NARRATOR:
Deep in the Berkshire countryside

sits one of Britain's
most feared institutions...

My first impression was,
"This is a prison."

..Broadmoor Hospital.

It's notorious
because of who's there.

A place
where dangerous men are sent...

..when there's nowhere else
for them to go.

You are dealing with people

who carry substantial risk of harm
to the public.

There's always that risk
that violence might erupt.

This is the inside story

told by those
who've worked behind its walls...

One patient suddenly turned on me
and said,

"The trouble with you
is that you won't let me be mad."

..those once detained here...

..and by the most notorious of all.

He called me Bob,
and I called him Peter.

PHONE RINGS

AUTOMATED MESSAGE:

Secretly recorded
and speaking from beyond the grave.

Some will never leave.

You're there until it's deemed fit
that you could be released.

This is the story
of how to get out of Broadmoor.

People have escaped
from high secure units.

It does happen,
and it happened while I was there.

NARRATOR: Broadmoor Hospital

is one of the most secure
institutions in Britain,

home to over 200 men
with mental illness

or personality disorders.

It is surrounded by dense woodland,
22ft-high walls

and cutting-edge CCTV cameras.

But despite all the security,

there's still one sound
synonymous with Broadmoor.

SIREN BLARES

The escape siren.
SIREN BLARES

If there was an escape...

..these sirens would wail,
warning the local citizens

that someone dangerous
had left Broadmoor.

They were tested
every Monday morning at 10am

and, I think, sent terrible waves

through the community
and the local area,

making it very aware
that Broadmoor was there.

Break-outs from Broadmoor
are incredibly rare -

but escape is not impossible.

People have escaped
from high-secure units.

It does happen,
and it happened while I was there.

In July 1991,

one of Broadmoor's
most dangerous and depraved patients

managed to escape.

SIREN BLARES

It was in the morning, and I heard
this noise, and I thought...

"..Oh, that's the siren."

I remember that siren.

It was a wailing...

whirring god-awful noise.

As the escaped patient
vanished into the woods,

the surrounding village
of Crowthorne went into lockdown.

Everybody locally
were told to lock their doors.

The kids,
the doors all closed at the schools.

REPORTER: Schools in the area
were closed,

and parents were told to keep
their children off the streets.

With a violent offender on the run,

staff members
were expected to drop everything

and report for duty.

Got in the car.
Drove to Broadmoor quite fast.

Went straight
to where the reception's all set up.

So, maps came out
from behind the ward

so that the police and everybody
knew the areas.

Masses and masses of telephones,
maps, everything.

It was like a huge war room, if
you like, and there must have been

60 police cars in there
from all over.

Police roadblocks, helicopters -
the lot.

The whole jamboree.

Nurses and police were sent out
to search for the runaway patient.

And we were all put in teams,

and you paired up with the police,
and off you went.

But the search teams
had their work cut out.

The man on the loose
was no ordinary patient.

He was convicted child rapist
James Saunders,

also known as the "Wolfman"

because he'd lived in the wild
whilst being hunted by police.

They called him the Wolfman

because he went on the run

and decided to live rough
in the Wiltshire countryside.

So, you have this man
who's been on the run.

It creates a storm nationally

and earned him the nickname
of the Wolfman.

After five years and seven months
in Broadmoor for violent rape,

Saunders was on the run once again.

Staff scrambled to work out
how on earth he'd got away.

Evidence of Saunders' cleverness
is that to distract attention

from the fact
that he was planning to escape,

he helped to organise
a pizza-making competition

which involved the chef
and the staff in Broadmoor.

Neil Wheatcroft was Broadmoor's
head chef at the time.

He was a wiry muscly patient, who...

When I first met him,

he said, "Would I be prepared to do
a demonstration of pizza making?"

This was the initial meeting
with him, and I said, "Yes, we can."

But the pizza party
was just a diversion.

With the staff preoccupied,
Saunders made his escape.

And it's during this
he used the time to slip away

and exit through
the shower room window.

He'd stolen a hacksaw blade
from the workshop.

And he sawed through
three window bars.

He's also tied bed sheets together

so that he could
go down to the ground.

And he would have dropped
to the deck,

ran across an open courtyard...

..to the next wall

and then over into the woods
and gone. Very clever.

I mean,
it was extraordinary ability.

I'm not saying for a moment

that he shouldn't be incarcerated,
of course,

but my goodness me,
that was some achievement.

Saunders was strong, fast
and easily able to hide in the wild.

REPORTER:
Hunting him is no easy matter.

Broadmoor is bordered
by dense, thick pine forests.

All day, helicopters
have been scouring the area,

flying at treetop height

whilst men on foot
searched the undergrowth beneath.

A day and a half passed
with no sign of Saunders.

I've done nine-hour stints
on the road, searching cars.

And then a breakthrough.

Around 40 hours
after the alarm was raised,

a member of the public

spotted a man acting strangely
in the woods

outside the Somerset village
of Croscombe,

almost 90 miles from Broadmoor.

They called the police.

A neighbour apparently
said something to a policeman,

and then they sent the truck down
to fetch him.

And he didn't put up a fight,
particularly.

He just acknowledged it and said,
"Well, you've got me,"

and went back to Broadmoor.

Although Saunders
had been recaptured,

questions were raised

as to how he had managed
to saw through the window bars.

One of the things that we used to do
for security purposes

was we used to
go into patients' rooms,

and we would rattle our keys
along the bars.

And if you heard a different sound
from one of the bars,

that was an indicator
that it had been sawn through.

It's very complicated
to escape from Broadmoor.

It's a lot of locks to go through,

a lot of guards to pass,
a lot of security.

At Broadmoor, a patient escape
is known as a "Never Event",

something that
under no circumstances

should be allowed to happen.

So what happened next
was doubly damaging.

And, so, a couple of years later,
in 1993,

the Wolfman decides to escape again.

He just took off like a roadrunner.

Off he went.
And over the wall - gone.

NARRATOR: Broadmoor had been rocked

by the escape of child rapist
James Saunders.

The 40-hour manhunt
caused a national scandal.

It was deeply wounding to Broadmoor

that such a dangerous man
should be allowed to escape.

But although he had been recaptured,

the patient known as the Wolfman
was undeterred.

Saunders wasn't content
to remain in Broadmoor,

and so a couple of years later,

in 1993,
the Wolfman decides to escape again.

This time, Saunders seized
a chance opportunity.

He was escorted off the unit
to go to a work area.

So, there was actually staff there,

and he just took off
like a roadrunner.

And he ran just full tilt
and then up a lamp

and jumped from the lamp onto
the 22ft wall down the other side.

Off he went and over the wall -
gone.

Remarkable,
and worthy of the circus.

My friend said, "Bloody hell,
he just got over the wall.

"God, he's done it again."

SIREN BLARES
Yet again.

The siren sounded yet again.

It proved that you could escape
from Broadmoor

if you were determined
and if you were lucky.

But on this occasion,
luck wasn't on his side.

When he landed on the other side,
he did his ankle in.

Saunders was recaptured.

But that was the last time

those sirens were sounded in anger
at Broadmoor.

There was never another escape.

Things tightened up.
They got more security.

A lot more cameras
were being installed outside.

The reality is it's very hard
to escape from Broadmoor, indeed.

As Saunders discovered,
the only guaranteed way

out of Broadmoor Hospital
is to get officially discharged...

..and many patients
do get out the right way,

like former patient Joshua,
who made progress with his recovery

and was allowed to leave
after seven years.

After making
a series of violent threats,

Joshua was sectioned and sent
to Broadmoor Hospital in 2004.

At Broadmoor, Joshua received
much-needed treatment.

Joshua was discharged from Broadmoor

after a long programme of treatment,
therapy and reflection.

Though Broadmoor
might look like a prison...

..it is in fact a secure hospital

treating some of the country's most
dangerous mental health patients.

We work, as anyone else
in psychiatry would work,

with all the most modern treatments.

It's just that we have security
as well,

so it's a proper modern hospital
but with security.

At Broadmoor,
patients who have committed a crime

are detained with a hospital order,

a legal declaration
that detains those criminals

whose mental health makes them
a risk to themselves or others.

Unlike a prison sentence,

a hospital order
has no set end date,

so patients must remain in Broadmoor

for as long as doctors
deem it necessary.

One of the extraordinary things
about Broadmoor is that

you aren't really sent
for a determined term.

You're there until it's deemed fit
that you could be released.

This means that if you want
to get discharged from Broadmoor,

you'll have to follow a rigorous
process of treatment and therapy.

The first stage in all of this

is to get the mental illness
under control,

and so the person
is without the symptoms

that caused the problem
in the first place.

On top of that, you then want
to make sure the person has insight

into the past difficulties
that they had...

..and that they have
an understanding of some of the ways

of dealing with the illness
in the future if it were to return.

So, within Broadmoor,

there are different levels
of security on the wards,

and you want to see

someone progressing
to the lowest level of supervision.

So it's about a gradually reducing
the level of surveillance

until you can reintroduce someone
to the outside world.

If a patient has served out
their criminal sentence

and can demonstrate that
their symptoms are under control,

then even serial killers
can be considered

for discharge to the outside world.

One such patient is Kenneth Erskine,

more commonly known
as the Stockwell Strangler.

REPORTER:
They were the sort of people

least able to defend themselves -

the elderly,
the sick and the frightened.

They were the victims of
a psychopath who roamed the streets

at night for nearly five months,
looking for pensioners

who he strangled to death
and sexually abused.

The period
between April and July 1986,

we know for certain
that Erskine killed seven times.

He deliberately targeted
vulnerable old individuals.

He was 23.
They were between 67 and 94.

They were people
that he could exercise

a level of control and power over.

REPORTER:
This morning, police repeated

their warning to elderly people

to keep all doors and windows locked
at night.

He would climb into the house,
through the window

and attack the old person,
often sexually.

He would strangle them.
He would sodomise them.

It's impossible to imagine

what that must have felt like
to his victims. Out of nowhere.

Fred Prentice was asleep
in bed in an old folks home

when a man climbed in through
a window and tried to strangle him.

He was just out of control.

He wouldn't stop, indeed,
until he was stopped.

REPORTER:
When eventually caught and tried,

24-year-old Erskine
was sentenced to 40 years,

at the time, the longest ever
jail term handed down in Britain.

Sentenced in 1988,

Erskine was initially sent
to a high security prison.

Shortly after his conviction,

he was sectioned
under the Mental Health Act.

During the trial,

Erskine is reported to have behaved
really quite inappropriately.

Whilst in the dock, he was seen
to be giggling and laughing

and speaking to himself,
and there was also a point

where he was observed
to be masturbating within the dock.

That behaviour really is telling

of somebody who is experiencing
a mental illness.

Erskine was diagnosed
with a personality disorder

as well as his chronic schizophrenia
and goes to Broadmoor.

On arrival at Broadmoor,
Erskine's symptoms were assessed.

Erskine would have been in quite
an acute state of mental illness,

so he would be extremely
destabilised, really quite paranoid,

mistrusting
of the people around him.

He talked about experiencing
what's called command hallucinations

that commanded him
to undertake certain actions,

to do certain things.

I think the key thing
with his experience of psychosis

is that he was completely
out of touch with reality.

So I think he would have presented
as being quite challenging.

At Broadmoor, Erskine received
therapeutic treatment.

Doctors will generally utilise
evidence-based interventions,

such as cognitive behavioural
therapy, schema therapy,

dialectical behaviour therapy, and
these are evidence-based therapies

that we know
that will impact mental illness.

Erskine's mental illness
was also treated with medication.

In general, schizophrenia
is responsive to medication.

These are not just tranquillisers,
they are very specific

antipsychotic,
anti-schizophrenic medications.

And in 90% of cases
of schizophrenia,

they're going to produce
an improvement,

often a very dramatic improvement.

Certainly my experience,

if you remove from the picture
the acute mental illness,

give them some medication,
basically,

the risk practically disappears.

You can't believe when they
first came in, how they presented,

how destructive, how aggressive,
to turn out...

where you think, "My gosh,

"they've gone through
all that therapy and medication,

"and look at them now."

It's just unbelievable, really.

And that's what keeps you going
as a nurse.

In order to be considered eligible
for discharge from Broadmoor,

a patient's entire clinical team
has to be in agreement.

Everybody that's had input with
that patient would have their say,

a long, long process.

And then once everybody in that team
are satisfied,

they go to a tribunal.

Introduced in 1983,

a mental health tribunal
is an independent panel of experts

who meet in a special tribunal suite
to assess patients at Broadmoor.

All patients, including Erskine,
have the legal right

for their detention under the
Mental Health Act to be considered

at a tribunal hearing once a year.

It's essentially
a small court of law

which considers whether the criteria
for detention are still met.

There's a judge,
a medical member and a lay member.

The Mental Health Review Tribunal
either says,

"Yes, we're gonna lift
the hospital order

"and leave the restrictions
in place."

Or, "No, we don't agree
that this person is ready."

For Joshua, regular dialogues
with his clinical team

helped him keep his recovery
on track.

But every release from Broadmoor
Hospital has its risks.

And when things go wrong,
the results can be deadly.

He games the system. He is indeed
duly released from Broadmoor.

Then he embarks on what
can only be called a killing spree.

Broadmoor Hospital houses some
of Britain's most violent criminals.

So it's no surprise that

many patient discharges come
under intense scrutiny.

Whenever somebody is discharged
from hospital,

it is on the balance of risks,
really.

You can never be certain of what's
going to happen in the future.

There is a risk that...

that violence might erupt again.

I think there's pressure
in Broadmoor to make sure

that any patient they discharge
was completely safe.

But human behaviour
is so unpredictable.

If you release someone

on the theory that they have been
cured or rehabilitated,

and they proceed to kill again,

then you are hanged
by public opinion and by the media.

And the most notable example
of that, of course, is Graham Young.

In 1962, Graham Young was convicted
of poisoning members of his family

by slipping the dangerous chemical
thallium into their tea.

After being diagnosed
with psychopathic traits,

the Teacup Poisoner
was sent to Broadmoor.

He was just 14 years old.

He had taken a fascination
with chemistry,

and he started off
by killing his stepmother

and trying to kill
his father and sister.

In Broadmoor, he was rather a weird,
creepy man. Sort of remote figure.

Sort of on the periphery
of everything.

Nobody drank
any tea that he'd prepared.

After just two years in Broadmoor,
Young set his sights on freedom.

He was determined
not to spend any longer

in Broadmoor than he can help it.

So he games the system.

He was very, very capable
of saying the right things,

appealing to the authorities
in the correct manner.

I believe that
he was thinking to himself,

"I can groom Broadmoor
to my advantage.

"Convince the authorities
that I am actually rehabilitated,

"regardless of what is in my mind."

In the 1960s, there were
no mental health tribunals.

Young only had to convince his
psychiatrist that he was reformed.

The psychiatrist petitions
the Home Secretary on his behalf,

saying he's given up his mischievous
interest in poisons and violence.

The truth was rather different.

I think he wrote a letter
to his sister at one point,

saying,
"Your friendly local Frankenstein

"is about to be released again."

That is Graham Young...
in a nutshell,

"your friendly local Frankenstein".

In 1971,
just nine years after his arrest,

Young's wish was granted, and he was
allowed to leave Broadmoor Hospital.

It appears that
he was discharged prematurely

by persuading his psychiatrist
and the Broadmoor authorities

that he was fully reformed.

He was only a young man.
So he was discharged.

They helped him to get a job
in a photo development shop.

He has access to poisons,
including thallium.

Within just weeks,
Young began poisoning his colleagues

in his trademark manner
by lacing their tea with thallium.

He embarks on what
can only be called a killing spree.

Not only tried to kill
his own family,

but now he's killing
random people he works with.

One by one, Young's colleagues
began to fall ill.

Many were hospitalised.

The police began an investigation,

and the Teacup Poisoner
couldn't resist the limelight.

He took great delight in going
to the police press conferences

about the number of people who
were becoming sick in his workplace.

And he showed an abnormal interest,

so much so that the police
picked up on him quite quickly.

And then when they checked on
his background,

they found out that
he'd been in Broadmoor for poisoning

and had recently been released.

By the time Young was caught,
two of his colleagues were dead

and several more
were critically ill.

When Young is re-arrested
in November 1971,

he's attempted to poison
no fewer than 70 people.

He has thallium in his pocket.

He has a diary which notes
exactly what dose is given to whom.

So, of course he was arrested and
convicted and returned to prison.

The revelations about Young
caused a national outcry.

I think Broadmoor was hugely damaged
by Graham Young's release.

He's incarcerated
for one set of crimes,

is released and then does exactly
the same thing all over again.

The Graham Young discharge led
to public inquiry

as to how he could be released
and then kill again.

I don't think any country in the
world could produce a better record

than our doctors in Broadmoor,

but the best doctor in the world
can occasionally make a mistake.

That's where the tribunal
can come in handy, really.

Because if there's
a serious difference of opinion,

a judge, an independent doctor
and a social worker

can take a look
at both sides and decide.

The Young inquiry led

to the reform of the psychiatric
hospital system nationally

and eventually the introduction

of high, medium and low secure
psychiatric units.

Today, these units form

a vital part of the discharge
process for every patient.

No-one goes straight from Broadmoor
to the outside world.

Young was probably the most chilling

and the most compulsive
serial killer

we've created in this country.

I don't think
he could stop poisoning.

I think he would have gone on as
long as he could get away with it.

Graham Young's psychopathy meant
that he was able to come across

as calm, sane and rational.

This helped him fool
his Broadmoor psychiatrist.

Psychopaths don't appear,
on the face of it,

to be mentally unwell.

They can plan, they can organise,

they can, you know...
they can think rationally.

They display very charming behaviour

because they knew that
that's what was required.

So they were able to manipulate
particularly their psychiatrists

because that person held the key
to them being discharged.

The challenge for Broadmoor's
doctors becomes even more acute

when a patient has been convicted
of violent, notorious crimes.

With the people who've committed

very serious and
particularly high profile offences,

you are playing
with quite high stakes in this.

And the stakes don't get much higher
than with the Stockwell Strangler.

After 21 years at Broadmoor,

in 2009,
Erskine appealed his conviction.

The Court of Appeals reduced
the murder conviction

to manslaughter on the grounds
of diminished responsibility.

Appeal judges heard
new medical evidence proving

Erskine had been suffering
from severe schizophrenia

at the time of the killings.

With his conviction reduced,

Erskine's future was now largely in
the hands of his Broadmoor doctors.

But should a man guilty
of seven killings ever be set free?

So, Erskine would have
to really demonstrate compliance

with treatment and that medication.

He would have to demonstrate an
insight into his violent offending

and the factors that led to that
and contributed towards that.

Seven killings.

I mean, a man who clearly suffers
from some kind of disease.

I think it's a very difficult thing
to decide what you should do

with someone like Kenneth Erskine.

I hesitate to say lock them up
and throw away the key,

but I am profoundly cautious
about releasing someone like Erskine

so that they may soon taste freedom

because I fear that they may
commit the same crimes again.

But Erskine has appeared to be
making progress with his recovery.

In 2016, he was transferred
from Broadmoor to Thornford Park,

a nearby medium-secure unit.

I think it can be difficult
for people to understand sometimes

that somebody who has done
something really horrendous

can ever be safely discharged
into the community.

But once you give them
some medication,

get the illness under control,
you're often left with someone

who actually presents very little,
if any, risk to anybody.

And it's very important to recognise
that in those circumstances.

Now one of Britain's
most prolific serial killers

is reportedly eligible
for day release.

It's a very interesting arc

for this extraordinarily violent,
vicious man

to go through a period
of rehabilitation

with the help of Broadmoor.

I think the fact that Erskine is now
in a lower security environment

is, to some extent,
a reflection of Broadmoor's success.

Probably they regard it
as a success.

I suppose it gives you hope.

It's important to know
that there's always a chance,

no matter what they've done,
it's really important.

There's always a chance
that in the future,

they will be able to be released.

There will be freedom for them
in the capacity that they can feel,

that actually, they can go
the other side of the wall.

The mission of Broadmoor is to...

..exercise and practice therapy

so that people can get better.

The patient is going
to be back out in society,

living with us as our neighbours.

Shouldn't we invest everything so
that they are restored in some way,

so that we can continue
to live in harmony?

That's a challenge,

to start looking at bringing
somebody back out into society

because you're there
to protect the society as well,

protect the public.

That's a duty of care.

But there's the crux of the debate.

The public want to be protected.

They do not see Broadmoor's role
as rehabilitation.

They say we just simply don't want
those dreadful, dangerous men

anywhere on the streets.

It's a conflict.

And Erskine precisely captures
the conflict.

Whether Kenneth Erskine will ever be
completely free remains to be seen,

but one of Broadmoor's
most infamous residents

was content to stay there forever.

Ronnie Kray, in many ways,

Broadmoor was probably
the ideal place for him.

He was content in Broadmoor.

He had everything he wanted.

I think one of the Krays
once called it cushty.

NARRATOR: The majority of patients
released from Broadmoor Hospital

pose little threat
to the British public.

But no patient goes straight
from Broadmoor to the outside world.

They are first sent
to medium-secure units

outside the hospital.

Patients in medium security

are granted access
to certain privileges.

The security is always there,
but relaxed.

A lot more relaxed.

The move from Broadmoor
to a medium-secure unit

can be a momentous day
for both patients and staff.

I felt good about the ones
I'd helped get to that stage,

and you get a shake of your hand
and say,

"Thanks for looking after me."

And you think,
"Yeah, OK, it's been worth it."

The best thing for myself personally
as a nurse,

the fact that you do see
a day coming

where somebody eventually
gets transferred.

It just gives me so much joy
to see somebody leaving.

And they've got a whole life
out there to live.

But life after Broadmoor
can be difficult.

After years inside, the outside
world can be a disorientating place.

They haven't seen a car
for ten years,

haven't been to the pub,

haven't been out for a meal
or a walk in the park.

It's so different for them,
you know.

Once transferred
to a medium-secure unit,

escorted trips are an option,
but they can be challenging.

Even fully discharged patients
remain in contact

with Broadmoor staff,

staying in touch
in case any problems arise.

People would be discharged,

and it would be part of my job
to supervise them in the community.

They couldn't just go out
to the shops,

they couldn't form
normal social relationships

like the rest of us could.

You'd hear examples
of people in their own flat

looking around for somebody to ask
for permission to go to the toilet.

Really institutionalised
and very, very difficult to adapt.

When I was at Broadmoor,
one of the patients

who was being prepared for discharge

was taken out to Reading
on a shopping trip on a train.

During the journey, he was
very anxious and very agitated,

and at one point, he stood up
on the train and fell over.

The train was moving so fast,
he'd never been used to such speed.

For some patients, the prospect
of living an independent life

outside Broadmoor
is too much to handle.

There is a minority of people
who don't have families

who looked upon us
as part of the family.

There was one lady
who was finally discharged,

and she was banging on the gates
to come back in.

That says a lot, really, doesn't it?

Not all patients get discharged
from Broadmoor.

In fact, not all patients
want to be discharged.

Sometimes, patients and staff
come to recognise

that Broadmoor
is simply their final home.

GEOFFREY: Ronnie Kray,
there's no question about it.

In many ways, Broadmoor was probably
the ideal place for him.

Convicted of murder,

The East End gangster Ronnie Kray
was sent to Broadmoor in 1979

after being diagnosed
with paranoid schizophrenia.

Ronnie Kray was not entirely sane.

He was by far the most dangerous
of the two twin brothers,

and he was very much a loose cannon.

Kray's friend, Maureen Flanagan,
made regular visits to Broadmoor.

He had his black moods,

where he told me when he first
woke up in the morning,

he knew it was gonna be a bad day.

He thought he was going
down a tunnel,

and at the end of it was bloodshed.

Once hospitalised,

crazed schizophrenia
was treated with medication.

He started freaking out,
and he felt he wanted to attack.

And that's what had to be subdued
in Broadmoor and regulated.

And it was.

He's been injected many times
and sedated.

They call it the liquid cosh.

And sometimes, it takes him days
to get over that.

Over time, the gangster's
fearsome persona diminished.

Author Bernard O'Mahoney
recalls meeting Kray in Broadmoor

for the first time.

I went into the visiting room.

I was looking for really big guy,

jet black hair and inky black eyes.

And this little guy

in his immaculate suit
sort of waved at me, you know?

I thought, "That can't be him."

He was like a little old man,
do you know what I mean? He...

He wasn't intimidating to me at all.

But, er, I think he was quite happy
where he was, to be honest.

He knew. He knew exactly
what was wrong with him,

and he knew he'd never come out.

When Maureen organised a petition

to try and get
the Kray twins released,

Ronnie intervened.

He said,
"Take my name off of the petition."

I went round to the East End.
I got 10,000 signatures.

He said, "Take it off.
I'm never gonna leave."

There is no doubt, too,
that some of the criminal community

regarded Broadmoor
as a holiday camp.

A soft option, a lovely place to go.

I think one of the Krays
once called it cushty.

But Broadmoor was the one place,
I think, that Kray felt comfortable.

He became more calm, more happy.

He was content in Broadmoor.

He had everything he wanted.
Number one, his room.

His room became to look like
his bedroom in his mother's house,

with the little desk there
with these pictures

and the single bed here and the rug
on the floor and the curtains.

He played his opera.
He loved to listen to Maria Callas.

I think he felt,
"I can make sense of this,

"and I can make a life for myself."

He was a very notorious gangster
indeed.

But perhaps, at Broadmoor,
he found an element of peace.

Peace, too, has descended
on the Berkshire countryside.

The Broadmoor sirens
have been decommissioned

and replaced with a high-tech
text-alert system.

In 2019,
the entire hospital was redeveloped,

transforming Broadmoor
into an institution

fit for the 21st century.

PAUL DEACON: The new hospital
that is built is now right beside

the old Broadmoor Hospital.

Very modern.

Lovely conditions inside.
Activities.

Technology. Completely different.

All those things are very crucial
to somebody

who's going through
mental health problems.

Nobody chooses
to have mental health issues.

Who on earth would choose that?

So I would say support them.

And take a minute, surely,
just to stop

and talk to somebody
who you can see they're troubled.

"Are you OK? Do you need a hand?"

Or, "You look upset.
What can we do for you?"