The trial of Gillygate killer John Paul Marshall uncovered the depths of York's drugs underworld, reports Chris Greenwood.

WHEN police officers, responding to a routine complaint about an evil smell, stepped inside 74a Gillygate they opened the door on to the full horror of York's drugs underworld.

This world, as outlined before a jury at Leeds Crown Court, is the kind of place in which a man, driven to illness and desperation by his all-consuming addiction to heroin, could in cold blood smash in the heads of two friends.

It is a place where drug dealers get rich and lazy, by selling tiny doses of drugs to hooked customers with up to 20 people an hour queuing at the door to buy.

The marketplace is chaotic and dangerous. According to the court evidence, Marshall carried a large knife to protect himself when he went to Chapeltown in Leeds to collect more supplies after the killings, while Kevin Mulgrew kept a bayonet at hand in a sofa cushion.

Unemployed and introverted, Marshall sold cannabis to fund his heroin addiction, and described his stock of cannabis as his "livelihood" because it allowed him to live a quiet life.

He sought help for his addiction at Compass, a help group based in Bridge Street, and through his GP and family.

But they were unable to break the cycle.

Meanwhile, the jury was told, Mr Mulgrew and Daniel Wall dealt heroin to dozens of people across the city.

Prosecutors alleged that they didn't just get cash - they took over addicts' homes, and used their desperate craving to control them.

Judge James Stewart described them as "scroungers" and said the name of their addict friend Stephanie Sad was more of a description than a title.

He told the jury the case revolved around the "sad lives" of three people ravaged by drug use. "If only some of today's young could have heard the evidence in this case, it would certainly have put them off using heroin, would it not?" he said.

When the two men first met Marshall in April 2003 they gave him small amounts of the drug as payment for his help. He drove them around and stored cash and drugs.

But the relationship turned sour in October after they left him to mind their Cemetery Road "shop" while they visited Amsterdam. On their return they accused him of ripping them off. Their relationship became unbalanced, and eventually tipped over the edge, when the dealers moved in to Marshall's cramped flat.

On the morning of December 1 2003 he sat at the living room table, watching the two men as they lay slumped in a drugged stupor.

Moments later he took the decision to end their lives. He thought it was the only way he could escape, and continue to take drugs in peace. He was tragically wrong.

Chris Greenwood traces the life of the quiet boy from York who grew into an addict and a murderer

John Marshall was on the run from York Police when he telephoned his mother from a public call box in Amsterdam and told her he had nothing to lose.

As jurors heard during his trial, he had come a long way, both geographically and personally, from a time when his life was full of promise.

They heard from family and friends that his life had been poisoned by heroin, a drug he was first introduced to while in prison when he could not get cannabis.

The eldest of four children, he showed no signs of this terrible fate while at Osbaldwick Primary School, where teachers found him to be bright and keen on sports and music.

He became the "man of the house" aged nine in 1971 when his parents divorced, an event which his mother Susan said left him devastated.

The young man went on the Archbishop Holgate's School in Hull Road, where a former school friend said he was "easy-going and quiet".

The man, who has since emigrated to Australia, called the Evening Press days after the murder hunt began to register his disbelief that Marshall could be involved.

In 1973 Susan married Ian Lightfoot, described in court as a strict disciplinarian, and he and Marshall clashed repeatedly. Aged 16, after teachers warned he was mixing the "wrong people", Susan sought professional child guidance after a row over a moped.

She said her son then began to drift away, failing his exams and moving between jobs at Clifton Bingo and a men's outfitter in Coppergate.

In his early 20s he was sent to prison for a cannabis-related offence, and was later jailed for dangerous driving after a road accident in which someone died.

On his release from the later jail term, he continued taking heroin, by smoking it - he didn't like needles - and paid for the habit by selling up to £200-worth of cannabis each week.

He was known as a guitarist and visited the Bay Horse in Gillygate to watch his sister sing in a band, but he didn't drink alcohol.

His mother described him as "trying to change the world", and he felt like he was being persecuted for his cannabis use.

Several years later his heroin habit escalated and he needed up to £30-worth of the drug each day.

Despite this, he continued to shop for his elderly neighbours, and was known at shops in Gillygate as an introverted musician.

At the time of killings, the 5ft 7in council tenant weighed just six-and-a-half stone, he was in ill-health and had few possessions after selling them to pay for drugs.

He really did have nothing to lose.

Rosie Wall and her murdered son Daniel, in the photograph she carried into court with her every day

DANIEL Wall's descent into heroin addiction never stopped him being a loving family man.

His mother Rosie Wall, from Chapelfields, said he always made a special effort to keep in touch and their love for him was "unconditional".

She carried a picture of Daniel, beaming broadly in a smart suit, every day during the harrowing five-day murder trial at Leeds Crown Court, to remind her of happier days.

Rosie revealed she reported her son missing when he failed to get in touch, unaware his life had been brutally cut short by Paul Marshall.

The Wall family reacted with numb disbelief at this shocking news, but it was not long before they were given a ray of hope to help them through the tragedy.

In a remarkable twist of fate, Daniel's sister Becca gave birth to her daughter, Keeleigh Marie, only hours after attending his funeral.

Becca, 25, of Bramham Road, suffered painful contractions throughout the service, but was determined to pay her last respects.

Rosie said it was destiny that ten-month-old Keeleigh was born on that day because it gave them "something to go on for".

In a touching poem about Daniel to Keeleigh, written by Rosie, she says: "Although he is not here today, He loves you very much, He wanted to see your little face, And your little hands to touch. We'll always talk about him, As often as we can, We want you to remember, Your special Uncle Dan."

Rosie said Daniel, 27, was a "lovely child" who fell into heroin addiction in 1996 after his cousin committed suicide. She insists he was not a dealer. "Danny always cared about us and was protective over us," she said.

"He wasn't a bad lad and wasn't a heroin dealer. Danny was a heroin addict, which is nothing to be ashamed of. He was our son and we loved him unconditionally.

"When he was a kid he loved mimicking people which had us in stitches. He also loved drawing and Liverpool FC. He would always design football grounds."

Rosie added that Daniel visited his father, Jeff, practically every day when he suffered a heart attack last year and was "always there for us if we needed him".

Matthew Woodcock

Updated: 09:37 Thursday, December 23, 2004