Sadistic bully Stephen Spence begins the first day of a prison sentence today.

Jim Entwistle speaks to police and victims of domestic violence about how such perpetrators are brought to justice, and why a register would save lives.

STEPHEN SPENCE will awake this morning surrounded by the bars that will contain him for years ahead. The 51-year-old slaughterman was jailed yesterday for a string of horrific domestic abuse offences against two women. His favourite trick was branding them with a steam iron when they disobeyed him. A laugh out of place and he would punch them until they lost consciousness, and then punch them some more.

The indefinite sentence, with a minimum term of four years, has been met with a notable silence by police, who are pushing for domestic violence perpetrators to be punished with tougher sentences.

Last week, at Darlington Magistrates’ Court, a 21-year-old man admitted assaulting his former partner in her own home, in front of their one-year-old son. He was given a conditional discharge. For that man, life carries on as normal.

I show the story to Detective Sergeant Carl Moss, of Darlington police’s domestic violence unit. He recoils. The violence alone is hard enough to read, but it is the sentence that is most painful for him. Soft sentencing undermines everything the police are trying to achieve. Police want women to summon the courage to come forward, and they want them to do so in the knowledge that if they do speak out, their tormentors will be punished accordingly.

A conditional discharge doesn’t inspire that sort of confidence, says Det Sgt Moss.

“In my experience with victims, they often feel let down at the point of sentence,” he says.

“They have been brave enough to come forward and pursue these prosecutions. Sentences need to reflect how serious these crimes are, and until they do how can we reassure victims and persuade others to come forward?”

Det Sgt Moss is supporting a move to introduce a register for repeat offenders of domestic violence, which would allow a prospective partner to be checked against a database of known offenders.

“Spence is a prime example of why there should be a register,” he says. “He is a guy who, as far as we are aware, for the past few decades, has regularly abused women, moving from one partner to the next. If there was a register in place, perhaps some of this damage could have been prevented.

“We have a register for sex offenders. Although these crimes are different, they are still as heinous and are as devastating in effect.”

The register would add to a growing armoury used by police and their partners in the fight against domestic abuse. But the amount of resources being channelled into the effort has not always been high.

Recalling an incident when he first joined the force, Det Sgt Moss says: “I remember as an 18-year-old probation officer in London going to a domestic incident with my sergeant. I thought we needed to speak with this woman, but the sergeant said, ‘no let’s just go’. It was always in my mind, we shouldn’t be walking away from this. Unfortunately, 20 years ago we were reluctant to become involved.”

Another person with her own experience of the police turning a blind eye is Kim Baird, 48, of Darlington, who was trapped in an abusive relationship for more than 30 years. “I remember the first time he beat me up,” she says. “He cut me with a razor blade, there was blood everywhere. When the policeman arrived he told me to clean myself up, he told my husband to go for a few pints down the pub, told me to get the dinner on, and that was it.”

There has been a seismic shift in the way domestic violence is dealt with. Across the region, Multi-Agency Risk Assessment Conferences (Maracs) bring together police, finance, housing, health and drugs workers.

It was Darlington’s Marac that led to the conviction of Spence. The support of agencies allowed one of his victims to be rehomed immediately, removing the danger of her falling back in with her tormentor, and providing her with stability, first to recuperate, and then to work with the police to secure his conviction.

Emma Bryant, 35, of Darlington, has been through the whole process twice, in the aftermath of two disastrous relationships, both of which she was lucky to survive. But, with the support services now on offer, she has managed to get her life back on track.

THE solution to existing problems is improving, but Emma and Kim are both adamant that a register would help prevent women falling into the abuse trap in the first place.

“If I had known that my partner was a perpetrator, I would never have got with him, and would never have ended up in this position,”

Emma says. “I think the register would save lives.”

But despite the protestations of the frontline workers, and the endless harrowing accounts of those whose lives have been derailed by domestic violence, a Home Office spokeswoman says the introduction of a register would be an unlikely move at this point.

In a statement she says: “We are not convinced that we need to make that change at this time and we are working hard to make sure that existing laws are used to their full effect.”

Meanwhile, Kim has to focus on rebuilding her life. “I really don’t think I will find anybody else,” she says. “I look for faults in everybody.

I try to appear confident, I don’t want to look like that little person who hides in the corner.”