By Patrick Sawer
Bernard Hogan-Howe, the new head of Scotland Yard, is the illegitimate son of a steelworker brought up by a single mother in working-class Sheffield.
He is Britain's top policeman, chosen to be Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police for his no-nonsense attitude to fighting crime.
Bernard Hogan-Howe, appointed in the wake of the riots and phone hacking scandal which have tarnished the force, has pledged to clean up Scotland Yard's reputation and relentlessly pursue criminals with his strategy of "total policing".
But his journey to the top has not been an easy one.
Indeed Mr Hogan-Howe's own experience suggests he may have a particular insight into the broken homes and tough backgrounds which shape the lives of so many who fall foul of the law.
In an interview last week Mr Hogan-Howe hinted at the toughness of his own upbringing, stating: "I think with the whole family unit people have a better chance. I had an unmarried mum, I saw my father not very often, about 10 times in my life. But some single parents do a fantastic job, and I think my mum did a fantastic job."
Now, for the first time, the full story can be revealed of how Bernard Hogan-Howe was raised by a single mother who gave birth to him after an affair with a married man, and how his tight-knit working-class family rallied round to help the boy who went on to show such promise.
It is a fascinating story of social mobility borne out of straitened family circumstances, exacerbated by the stigma of single motherhood prevalent in post-war Britain.
Britain's future top cop was born in the City General Hospital in Sheffield, in October 1957, the son of Cecilia Hogan, a 30-year-old office worker who lived in Hope Square, one of the densely-packed terraced back-to-back streets of the city's Brightside district, surrounded by the belching chimneys and furnaces of the Lower Don Valley's steel plants.
Miss Hogan, known as Celia to her family and friends, had met and fallen in love with 34-year-old Bernard Howe, one of the thousands of steel workers in the area.
But it was only when she told him that she had fallen pregnant that Mr Howe, a good looking, tall and impeccably turned-out man, chose to inform her that he was already married.
Terence Key, one of Mr Hogan-Howe's cousins, said: "Celia didn't know he was married and when she found out that's when she parted from him. I know from my mother that she was upset about it."
As was the practice of the day, Bernard was given his father's surname – though he would later add Hogan to it in recognition of his mother.
Heartbroken, Miss Hogan was left to bring up the baby boy on her own. But according to those who knew her, she did not allow herself to succumb to feelings of shame or embarrassment about giving birth out of wedlock. Instead she concentrated on providing a secure and loving environment for her son.
Fortunately her family pitched in, particularly her elder sister Kathleen and her husband Lionel Key, also a steelworker.
The couple would frequently help Celia, looking after Bernard when necessary and taking him and his mother on trips to seaside resorts such as Blackpool and Torquay to make sure he did not miss out.
"There was a lot of stigma about that kind of thing at the time," said Mr Key, Kathleen's son. "But she brought him up well, all credit to her.
"She doted on him. She didn't have a lot of money of course, so I think she struggled. She stopped work when Bernard was born, but she wasn't the type to leave him wondering around the streets so she could work.
"My mum and dad did a lot for her, taking them on holiday and helping out. They were both very fond of Bernard."
When Hope Square was demolished and its residents decanted to bright new housing estates during the mid 1960s, as part of Sheffield city council's policy of slum clearance, Miss Hogan and Bernard moved first across the River Don to Attercliffe and then further out to a flat in the suburb of Pitsmoor, on one of Sheffield's seven hills.
Bernard began attending nearby Hinde House Comprehensive School, where he appears to have been a diligent student. Though some of his police colleagues now describe Mr Hogan-Howe as "brash" and "supremely ambitious", Mr Key, 71, remembers him as a "gentle lad" who loved playing with his younger daughters.
By the time Bernard reached his early teens he had started showing an interest in who his father was.
"He got in touch with his father and saw a bit of him when he was 15 or 16," said Mr Key, now a retired electrician. "I think he just wanted to meet him. By this point I think his father had become a manager in one of the steel plants."
In fact Bernard's birth had already caused friction between his father and his wife Edith.
Bernard Howe Snr had met Edith Beevor when he was stationed with the RAF in Whiteley Bay, Northumberland, helping to protect the nation's coastline during World War Two. He brought her back to Sheffield, where they married in September 1943, and after the war found work in the city's steel industry.
On discovering that he had not only had an affair, but fathered a child, Edith – now in her late 80s and living in a care home in Sheffield – was both furious and deeply upset.
Her brother, Hugh Beevor, 81, said: "She desperately wanted children of her own, but she just couldn't, despite trying many times. She told me how much she would have loved to have children and grandchildren around her.
"Edie worshipped the ground Bernard walked on. Nothing he could do was wrong. She had great taste and she always chose his clothes, so he was very well dressed. So when she told me about the affair I was flabbergasted."
The revelation that her husband had a son with another woman came as a terrible shock. So much so that Edith packed her bags and left Bernard, becoming the personal companion to a wealthier, middle-class lady in Sheffield, before returning to Whitley Bay.
She only returned to the marital home when her husband appeared on her family's doorstep, pleading for her to come back to him.
Much to her mother's fury she consented and returned to Sheffield. But even now Edith retains some bitterness about the affair.
"Bernard wanted to go out a lot and leave me at home," she said. "He had this girlfriend, who I met once. But I didn't meet his son. I was left a bit out of it. Bernard was very bright himself, so I don't think he would have been surprised that his son ended up as a senior police officer."
Mr Hogan-Howe's mother died in February 2002, aged 75. Mr Howe Snr died in May 2001, having apparently followed from a distance the course of his son's increasingly successful career.
Intriguingly, joining the force was not young Bernard's first choice of career. At one stage he had ambitions to become a doctor, but did not achieve the right grades in his A-levels so found work as a lab technician for the NHS.
But after four years in the health service he found his true vocation. Aged 22, Mr Hogan-Howe joined South Yorkshire police, working on uniform patrol, CID and traffic. During the 1984-85 miners' strike he was stationed in Doncaster, tasked with the difficult job of policing the area's mining communities during one of the most bitter industrial disputes of modern times.
At the age of 28 his potential was spotted by his superiors, who dispatched him to Oxford to study an MA in law. He also gained a diploma in applied criminology and an MBA in business administration from Sheffield University.
But it was in crime-fighting that Mr Hogan-Howe made his name, leading a largely successful fight against gun and knife crime, gangs and anti-social behaviour in Liverpool, first as Assistant Chief Constable of Merseyside from 1997 to 2001 and, after a stint at the Met, as Chief Constable from 2004 to 2009.
In Merseyside he introduced a model of 'total policing' to target gun and knife crime, binge drinking and the use of stolen and uninsured vehicles. One of his innovations was Operation Matrix, which aggressively targeted anyone with the slightest connection to weapons.
This approach was credited with cutting crime by a third and reducing anti-social behaviour by 26 per cent. The force was also responsible for the highest level of criminal asset recovery outside of London, with over £20 million seized in three years.
In October 2009 he was appointed to Her Majesty's Inspectorate of Constabulary, with responsibility for overseeing the police response to the 2012 Olympics, counter-terrorism and serious organised crime.
He recently took time off to marry his partner Marion White, who works as assistant to the Crown Equerry responsible for the Royal family's horses, carriages and cars at Buckingham Palace. Miss White was awarded an MVO in the Queen's birthday honours in June. They both share a love of riding – Mr Hogan-Howe becoming the first Chief Constable to lead the Grand National parade at Aintree.
On his appointment as Commissioner, Theresa May, the Home Secretary, described Mr Hogan-Howe as a "tough, single-minded crime fighter" while Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London, said he would restore confidence and crack down on disorder.
Once crime in particular illustrates the qualities for which Mr Hogan-Howe was selected.
During his tenure in the north-west Mr Hogan-Howe had to deal with the shocking murder of 11-year-old Rhys Jones, who was shot dead in August 2007 by a gang member who fled on a bicycle.
The investigation was faced with a wall of silence and an entrenched criminal subculture, but the killer – Sean Mercer, an 18-year-old member of the Croxteth Crew gang – was finally caught and sentenced to life, after eight months of dogged and determined work by detectives.
Other gang members, one as young as 16, were imprisoned for assisting an offender, while some of their parents were convicted for perverting the course of justice.
It is an experience that should stand the new Met Commisioner in good stead.
Councillor Bill Weightman, the Chairman of Merseyside Police Authority, who worked closely with Mr Hogan-Howe in Liverpool, said: "Bernard does understand the issue of social problems and broken families. He comes from a very tough working class background. He worked in those areas in Sheffield and Merseyside and he can communicate at all levels."
Reflecting last week on the pressing question of Britain's 'broken society', Mr Hogan-Howe's comments clearly carried the weight of his personal history.
"There is possibly more risk when there is just one parent, they have difficulties in managing responsibilities," he said. "I don't make moral judgements about it, but for me family values are the most important.
"If you get a really good start you have the best chance of success. Would I have turned out the same if my parent had been a burglar?"
It is a fascinating story of social mobility borne out of straitened family circumstances, exacerbated by the stigma of single motherhood prevalent in post-war Britain.
Britain's future top cop was born in the City General Hospital in Sheffield, in October 1957, the son of Cecilia Hogan, a 30-year-old office worker who lived in Hope Square, one of the densely-packed terraced back-to-back streets of the city's Brightside district, surrounded by the belching chimneys and furnaces of the Lower Don Valley's steel plants.
Miss Hogan, known as Celia to her family and friends, had met and fallen in love with 34-year-old Bernard Howe, one of the thousands of steel workers in the area.
But it was only when she told him that she had fallen pregnant that Mr Howe, a good looking, tall and impeccably turned-out man, chose to inform her that he was already married.
Terence Key, one of Mr Hogan-Howe's cousins, said: "Celia didn't know he was married and when she found out that's when she parted from him. I know from my mother that she was upset about it."
As was the practice of the day, Bernard was given his father's surname – though he would later add Hogan to it in recognition of his mother.
Heartbroken, Miss Hogan was left to bring up the baby boy on her own. But according to those who knew her, she did not allow herself to succumb to feelings of shame or embarrassment about giving birth out of wedlock. Instead she concentrated on providing a secure and loving environment for her son.
Fortunately her family pitched in, particularly her elder sister Kathleen and her husband Lionel Key, also a steelworker.
The couple would frequently help Celia, looking after Bernard when necessary and taking him and his mother on trips to seaside resorts such as Blackpool and Torquay to make sure he did not miss out.
"There was a lot of stigma about that kind of thing at the time," said Mr Key, Kathleen's son. "But she brought him up well, all credit to her.
"She doted on him. She didn't have a lot of money of course, so I think she struggled. She stopped work when Bernard was born, but she wasn't the type to leave him wondering around the streets so she could work.
"My mum and dad did a lot for her, taking them on holiday and helping out. They were both very fond of Bernard."
When Hope Square was demolished and its residents decanted to bright new housing estates during the mid 1960s, as part of Sheffield city council's policy of slum clearance, Miss Hogan and Bernard moved first across the River Don to Attercliffe and then further out to a flat in the suburb of Pitsmoor, on one of Sheffield's seven hills.
Bernard began attending nearby Hinde House Comprehensive School, where he appears to have been a diligent student. Though some of his police colleagues now describe Mr Hogan-Howe as "brash" and "supremely ambitious", Mr Key, 71, remembers him as a "gentle lad" who loved playing with his younger daughters.
By the time Bernard reached his early teens he had started showing an interest in who his father was.
"He got in touch with his father and saw a bit of him when he was 15 or 16," said Mr Key, now a retired electrician. "I think he just wanted to meet him. By this point I think his father had become a manager in one of the steel plants."
In fact Bernard's birth had already caused friction between his father and his wife Edith.
Bernard Howe Snr had met Edith Beevor when he was stationed with the RAF in Whiteley Bay, Northumberland, helping to protect the nation's coastline during World War Two. He brought her back to Sheffield, where they married in September 1943, and after the war found work in the city's steel industry.
On discovering that he had not only had an affair, but fathered a child, Edith – now in her late 80s and living in a care home in Sheffield – was both furious and deeply upset.
Her brother, Hugh Beevor, 81, said: "She desperately wanted children of her own, but she just couldn't, despite trying many times. She told me how much she would have loved to have children and grandchildren around her.
"Edie worshipped the ground Bernard walked on. Nothing he could do was wrong. She had great taste and she always chose his clothes, so he was very well dressed. So when she told me about the affair I was flabbergasted."
The revelation that her husband had a son with another woman came as a terrible shock. So much so that Edith packed her bags and left Bernard, becoming the personal companion to a wealthier, middle-class lady in Sheffield, before returning to Whitley Bay.
She only returned to the marital home when her husband appeared on her family's doorstep, pleading for her to come back to him.
Much to her mother's fury she consented and returned to Sheffield. But even now Edith retains some bitterness about the affair.
"Bernard wanted to go out a lot and leave me at home," she said. "He had this girlfriend, who I met once. But I didn't meet his son. I was left a bit out of it. Bernard was very bright himself, so I don't think he would have been surprised that his son ended up as a senior police officer."
Mr Hogan-Howe's mother died in February 2002, aged 75. Mr Howe Snr died in May 2001, having apparently followed from a distance the course of his son's increasingly successful career.
Intriguingly, joining the force was not young Bernard's first choice of career. At one stage he had ambitions to become a doctor, but did not achieve the right grades in his A-levels so found work as a lab technician for the NHS.
But after four years in the health service he found his true vocation. Aged 22, Mr Hogan-Howe joined South Yorkshire police, working on uniform patrol, CID and traffic. During the 1984-85 miners' strike he was stationed in Doncaster, tasked with the difficult job of policing the area's mining communities during one of the most bitter industrial disputes of modern times.
At the age of 28 his potential was spotted by his superiors, who dispatched him to Oxford to study an MA in law. He also gained a diploma in applied criminology and an MBA in business administration from Sheffield University.
But it was in crime-fighting that Mr Hogan-Howe made his name, leading a largely successful fight against gun and knife crime, gangs and anti-social behaviour in Liverpool, first as Assistant Chief Constable of Merseyside from 1997 to 2001 and, after a stint at the Met, as Chief Constable from 2004 to 2009.
In Merseyside he introduced a model of 'total policing' to target gun and knife crime, binge drinking and the use of stolen and uninsured vehicles. One of his innovations was Operation Matrix, which aggressively targeted anyone with the slightest connection to weapons.
This approach was credited with cutting crime by a third and reducing anti-social behaviour by 26 per cent. The force was also responsible for the highest level of criminal asset recovery outside of London, with over £20 million seized in three years.
In October 2009 he was appointed to Her Majesty's Inspectorate of Constabulary, with responsibility for overseeing the police response to the 2012 Olympics, counter-terrorism and serious organised crime.
He recently took time off to marry his partner Marion White, who works as assistant to the Crown Equerry responsible for the Royal family's horses, carriages and cars at Buckingham Palace. Miss White was awarded an MVO in the Queen's birthday honours in June. They both share a love of riding – Mr Hogan-Howe becoming the first Chief Constable to lead the Grand National parade at Aintree.
On his appointment as Commissioner, Theresa May, the Home Secretary, described Mr Hogan-Howe as a "tough, single-minded crime fighter" while Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London, said he would restore confidence and crack down on disorder.
Once crime in particular illustrates the qualities for which Mr Hogan-Howe was selected.
During his tenure in the north-west Mr Hogan-Howe had to deal with the shocking murder of 11-year-old Rhys Jones, who was shot dead in August 2007 by a gang member who fled on a bicycle.
The investigation was faced with a wall of silence and an entrenched criminal subculture, but the killer – Sean Mercer, an 18-year-old member of the Croxteth Crew gang – was finally caught and sentenced to life, after eight months of dogged and determined work by detectives.
Other gang members, one as young as 16, were imprisoned for assisting an offender, while some of their parents were convicted for perverting the course of justice.
It is an experience that should stand the new Met Commisioner in good stead.
Councillor Bill Weightman, the Chairman of Merseyside Police Authority, who worked closely with Mr Hogan-Howe in Liverpool, said: "Bernard does understand the issue of social problems and broken families. He comes from a very tough working class background. He worked in those areas in Sheffield and Merseyside and he can communicate at all levels."
Reflecting last week on the pressing question of Britain's 'broken society', Mr Hogan-Howe's comments clearly carried the weight of his personal history.
"There is possibly more risk when there is just one parent, they have difficulties in managing responsibilities," he said. "I don't make moral judgements about it, but for me family values are the most important.
"If you get a really good start you have the best chance of success. Would I have turned out the same if my parent had been a burglar?"
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