Peter Turnbull I was fourteen years old when I first murdered someone. Not the youngest murderer in crime’s long and dark history, but still not bad, as I am sure you will agree. It happened quite spontaneously. A sports shop in our little town took delivery of a batch of catapults which were made in Italy. The word spread about them, and a lot were sold to boys of my age. The aluminium frame lasted indefinitely but the rubber band tore in half after a very short time. But when they were brand new, well, by God, they were powerful.

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