THE Yorkshire Ripper staged an audacious bid to escape Broadmoor – with help from fellow patient Ronnie Kray.
The London gangster supplied a hacksaw blade Peter Sutcliffe used to try to saw through a metal bar on his window.
The plot was foiled by chance after serial killer Sutcliffe was moved to another room at the top-security hospital.
But when bosses spotted it, they DENIED it was the Ripper’s work.
Now, 30 years on from what would have been Britain’s most shocking breakout, The Sun can finally reveal Sutcliffe WAS trying to escape — and Kray was instrumental in the plot.
The full truth is laid bare in I’m The Yorkshire Ripper, my new book with Alfie James, who was in contact with Sutcliffe for nearly 20 years before the killer died in November 2020, aged 74.
Based on hundreds of phone calls and letters from the Ripper, it tells his life story in more detail than ever.
At the time of the attempted break-out in 1992 Alan Franey, general manager of Broadmoor, claimed: “There is absolutely no truth in the stories that Peter Sutcliffe has been planning an escape from the hospital. The stories circulating are causing unnecessary public anxiety and those responsible for them are acting irresponsibly.”
But our book puts the lie to that, when Sutcliffe himself says: “I nearly managed to cut through one of the bars.”
He also talks of his love for ex-wife Sonia and finally answers the question of whether she knew about his reign of terror — 13 murders and seven attempted murders between 1975 and 1980 — that struck fear in northern England.
For the first time, he talks at length about the voices he says drove him to kill — how they sounded and how he interacted with them.
He also reveals the extent of his relationship with Kray while they were both locked up in Broadmoor after each being diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia.
Sutcliffe dismisses reports that Kray hated him and put a price on his head, and tells how they were such good pals he would cut Ronnie’s hair.
He says of the rumour mill: “It said Ronnie had put a contract out on me, but when I met him I pulled him up about it and he totally denied any such thing. If it was true, he must have been scared to admit it, but I believed him and we got on OK.
“I used to cut his hair and we used to sit and chat. Ronnie couldn’t stand his hair being long, he always had to have it short and looking smart.
“He always thought people were talking about him but he trusted me, he trusted me to cut his hair and we got on all right.”
Kray, sent to Broadmoor in 1979 ten years after being sentenced to life for the murder of George Cornell at the Blind Beggar pub in Whitechapel, East London, had a reputation as a sharp dresser.
He wore a suit, monogrammed handkerchief and cufflinks to meet friends and celebrities who visited him inside.
These included actress Barbara Windsor, The Who frontman Roger Daltrey and the pop stars the Kemp brothers Martin and Gary when they were researching their respective parts as gangster twins Ronnie and Reggie in 1990 movie The Krays. But Sutcliffe reveals this was just for public show.
He says of Kray: “He dressed like a tramp on the ward. Scruffy old jeans and scruffy shirt. He wore suits to show off, to impress people, but when he came back to the ward he was a bit of a slob.”
When you got up in the morning, you came out of your room stark-b*****k naked and waited till they unlocked locker with your clothes in. It was meant to humiliate people.
Sutcliffe also tells how Ronnie was never far from drama.
He says: “I remember when he came back with blood on his suit from a visit where his visitor punched him in the face.
“Ronnie was a bit trusting. He thought everybody who wanted to visit him were a good friend. He hadn’t seen this bloke for donkey’s years and he had a grudge against Ronnie and punched him. They had to drag him out.
“Them Kemp brothers came to visit Ronnie and Reggie (who was in prison) many times and discussed everything, got to know their personalities so they could portray them. Ronnie was happy with that and so was Reggie. They thought they’d done a pretty good job.
“He didn’t like his mother portrayed as cursing. But they were fairly happy with the outcome of the film.”
Sutcliffe denies stories Ronnie got perks at Broadmoor and reveals he even cleaned toilets for extra money.
He says: “He was treated the same as everyone. One time his job was to clean the toilets. A member of staff went into a cubicle and took a look, shouting out to Ron.
“He said, ‘Ron, did you clean the toilets?’ To which Ron shouted back that he had. With that, the member of staff said, ‘Well, get back and clean the s**t off properly’. “Ron went back and cleaned the toilet. After that, Ron packed that job in. It was a voluntary job to earn a little bit of extra money.”
Recounting his escape bid, Sutcliffe reveals he hid his hacksaw blade behind a skirting board in the day and at night used it to cut the bar.
He says: “It came from a friend of Ronnie’s, a patient in Broadmoor. “It could have been brought in, as security wasn’t that good then. But inside Broadmoor we had workshops, that’s where I think it came from. I just know Ronnie Kray was involved in getting us the blade.
“For some reason I was moved to another cell, nothing to do with what I’d been trying to do. After a while that cell was being decorated and it was noticed the bar on the window had been nearly cut through.
“Because it had been a while since I’d done it, it had turned rusty so no connection was made to me.”
Sutcliffe had arrived at Broadmoor in 1984, three years after being given life imprisonment for his killing spree.
The regime he found at the Berkshire hospital was much harsher than that of today. He recalls: “They take you into the bathroom, stripped completely, and you have a bath, wash your hair.
“There’s about ten of them stood round you, grinning and talking. You feel like you’re in a goldfish bowl.
“I was locked in with just my pyjamas for three days before being allowed to join the community in the day room.
“It was very strict in those days and you just had to sit in your chair. If you wanted to use the toilet you had to raise your hand and ask permission.
“When you used to get up in the morning, you come out of your room in the nude, stand in the corridor and wait till they came and unlocked your locker, that was fastened to the wall at the other side of the corridor with your clothes in.
“You had to leave your pyjamas inside your cell and everybody’s stood in the corridor b*****k-naked waiting to get dressed. It was weird.
“And the same time at night, you had to get all your clothes off, stood in the corridor, put them all in the cupboard.
“They came and locked the cupboards and then they opened your doors, so you had to stand there b**k-naked till they came and opened your doors to let you in at night and then you put your pyjamas on. It was meant to humiliate people.
“And you used to have to wear a shirt and tie at your meal times. It’s all changed now.”
Yet Sutcliffe grew to enjoy some aspects of Broadmoor — especially the food. His weight ballooned partly due to medication and diabetes but mostly because of his vast food intake.
He recalls one Broadmoor barbecue: “It was really enjoyable. The food was brilliant and plentiful. There was everything you could think of to go with the meat, and lots to drink plus different gateaux.”
At a Christmas party one year, Sutcliffe surpassed himself when he managed to eat THREE meals.
He says: “I had the steak and the chips and onion rings and mushrooms, then I had sausage and mash with peas and thick gravy, and then I had a chicken curry with rice and peas.”
He finished it off with “a big gateau with ice cream”. Eating is such a cherished hobby among Broadmoor patients that food items and soft drinks take on a value which far outweighs their actual worth — leading to huge dramas if anything goes missing.
One day Sutcliffe discovered a pair of two-litre bottles of cola belonging to him and another patient had vanished from a fridge which was usually locked, with only staff members holding keys.
He was furious and said: “Talk about sneaky — we’ve got a tea leaf on the ward.
“Stole two bottles of Diet Coke. It’s diabolical, stealing our stuff.”
BRITAIN’S most notorious serial killer cherished his friendship with the nation’s most prolific paedophile.
Peter Sutcliffe and fellow Yorkshireman Jimmy Savile hit it off in Parkhurst prison on the Isle of Wight when the TV host, a volunteer jail visitor, asked Sutcliffe to paint his portrait.
Sutcliffe says: “He came in chatting to me, asking how I was, did I miss Yorkshire? He said, ‘I wonder if I could ask you a favour? Would you do a portrait of me for Stoke Mandeville Hospital?’
“I said, ‘Yeah, all right.’ So I did a big picture of him, really big, in his tracksuit, and he’s supposed to have hung it up there.”
Their friendship grew when Sutcliffe moved to Broadmoor, where Savile was the unofficial entertainments manager.
The Ripper added: “He used to come round to the visiting hall for a chat. I used to introduce him to my visitors. He had his funny little sayings, ‘Now then, now then’.
“Lovely fella. Always had a good laugh with him.”
Sutcliffe refused to believe his old mate was a sex attacker after the full extent of his offending was uncovered following his death in 2011. And he was horrified when asked if he had ever been a victim.
He said: “I got a questionnaire through the post saying, ‘You knew Jimmy Savile, would you like to be interviewed and see if you can list any wrongdoings?’
“I’m not having ’owt to do with that. They’re trying to use him as a scapegoat so they can dig more dirt. That’s what’s been going on all along.”
Even when Savile’s decades of abuse were laid bare, Sutcliffe was still in denial. He said: “I don’t believe half of it. Nobody’s sticking up for Jimmy.”
