Paul, an English boy, wrote about his experience with the police. A few fragments:
"The next day two or three officers came to our home at about 8:45 a.m. and took us als in the same car to Bofors police station. We all waited downstairs for 5 to 10 minutes or so and then, one by one starting with my oldest brother and going downwards in age, they took us into separater rooms and started questioning us. I was interviewed by successive officers one at a time but I was frequently visited by the fat man. (...)
I was left alone from time to time. They asked if Roger had done anything to me ever. I said, 'No.' (...) Coming up to lunchtime they started to pressure me, saying, he has made a full confession, he is downstairs right now and you will be helping him if you tell us. It will be quicker and easier. I thoght, if Roger had admitted it himself, what is the use of saying anything different? They went back into the holidays saying, 'Would you like to go through it in more detail now?' I did not say anything and they left me for half an hour. (...)
They brought in a load of photograph albums belonging to Roger and asked me to name the people in the photos. Most of them I could name. (..) By now it was early evening. The fat one, the one I hated most, started by saying I had left bits out and I was not telling the truth; he would not let me go home until I told them, 'the other bit'. I did not know what he was on about. He insisted that I did. This lasted some time. I was getting frustrated and upset. He kept saying if I told him that one thing, he would let me back in the snooker room with my brothers. He said he and his colleague would go out of the room and leave me a pen and paper to write it down. They left the room. I wrote nothing much. They came in two or three times. Finally, they say they would try and boost my memory. They said, 'You wouldn't be like this if you weren't hiding something.' By then I was nearly crying. The long tall officer who looked like a lamp post had one more try to get me to say whatever I was supposed to say and then they let me back in the snooker room. Before I was crying, they kept asking me if Roger touched my dick or willie. I kept saying 'No', which was the truth, but it was getting me nowhere and they had told me Roger and Steve had told them about these things so in the end I just agreed. Once they asked me if he had ever put his willie up my bum. I said 'No'. They said, 'Could he have ever done it while he was sleeping with you in the caravan and such places?' I said no, definitely not. After going back into the pool room, the tall officer came and drove us home. They said if I was lying about this, a doctor could do a medical on us and find out the truth. They said he was already on his way, but 'We can put it off if you like and if you tell the truth.' I said, 'You can examine me if you like.' A few days later the police came to our home one night. There were two or three of them. We went over it again. I said a few damaging things in fromt of my father but even they were not true. I thought if I took it all back they would think I was lying again and I would have to go over it all again. (Moody 1980, p.23)
Paul and his brothers wanted to tell the judge they had been forced by the police to make false statements. But they never had to appear in court. The accused was acquitted. Paul's father observed, "The police did more harm to my boys than Roger Moody could have done in three years." (Moody 1980, p.23)