FDSD Islington

by John Eddleston

  After John Francis Warden had told his story about the coin gambling, and Lucas’s later attack upon Marden, Constable Merritt took the stand. After telling the court of the abortive trip to the hospital with the stricken man, Merritt explained that he had later searched the dead man’s pockets. He had found three £1 notes, two ten shilling notes, eight shillings in silver and seven pence in bronze. Much of that money, it was later shown, had belonged to the prisoner at the bar.

  Detective Sergeant Peter Beveridge had been the officer who went to 15 Church Lane, to arrest Lucas. On the way to the police station, Lucas seemed to show little understanding of why he had been placed under arrest and at one stage said: ‘I know nothing.’

  At the police station, Lucas was seen by Detective Inspector John Coles. At 9.20pm, he charged the prisoner with murder, to which Lucas replied: ‘I don’t remember nothing [sic].’ When he was searched, only one halfpenny was found on Lucas. There was no knife or razor and, indeed, none had been found since. Although he had been questioned about it, Lucas could not remember what he had done with the weapon. Finally, Inspector Coles was able to confirm that on the day after his arrest, 13 October, Lucas had suffered a severe fit in the cells, and had to receive urgent medical treatment.

  Details were given of Lucas’s past life. He had been in the Army, and although he had received a good discharge, he had never seemed to be the same since. He worked for the London Midland and Scottish Railway, at St Pancras and, originally, was given the job of driving carts around the platform. After a number of minor accidents, during which he blanked out and received minor injuries, he was given lighter duties.

  There could be no doubt that James Lucas had taken the life of Francis Edward Marden, but it was equally clear that he had some severe health problems, and often had no idea what he had done, especially in times of excitement or stress. It was this which caused the jury to return the verdict that Lucas was guilty of murder, but had been insane at the time he committed the crime.

  Spared the death penalty, Lucas was then sentenced to be detained until His Majesty’s pleasure be known.

  Chapter 33

  Frederick Williams

  1931

  Although they lived just around the corner from each other, there was bad blood between forty-nine-year-old Frederick Williams and his cousin. Frederick lived at 27 Church Lane, Islington, whilst his cousin, Amelia Gazzard, lived at 6 Rothery Street, and was involved with a man named Edward Ackland, who was known in the district as Ted Burns. Ackland had something of a reputation for violence, and was certainly a figure that anyone would readily recognise, for he only had one eye.

  On Friday 31 July 1931, Amelia Gazzard had an argument with Frederick’s wife. It was all over nothing, but it didn’t help the already strained relationship between the two families. Things were not helped when, at 11.00pm that same night, Amelia saw Frederick outside his house, and called him some rather rude names. Frederick retaliated by punching his cousin in the face.

  At some time early the next morning, Saturday 1 August, Edward Ackland, who lodged at 26 Langton Road, called on Amelia and heard the story of her altercation with Williams. Not one to let this matter lie, Edward marched Amelia around to Williams house to find him, once again, at his front door. Once again harsh words were exchanged, and the argument ended with Ackland saying that he would do for Williams that very night.

  Frederick Williams spent most of that day in town, but at 10.00pm he was, yet again, standing at his front door, when Ackland returned. This time there was no conversation. Ackland simply lashed out, throwing punches and kicks at Williams, who retaliated. There was a brief fight, during which both men ended up rolling on the ground until, finally, Ackland pulled himself to his feet and walked off towards Amelia’s house.

  What happened next would vary depending on which story people believed. The upshot was that Williams followed Ackland, and that the fight continued at the end of the street. It ended when Williams pulled out a razor and pulled it across the back of Ackland’s neck. What is certain is that Williams must have known that he had hurt Ackland quite badly, because he did not return home immediately. Instead he walked to Islington Green, where he jumped onto a tramcar and went to Holborn. There he had a drink in the Bull public house before returning to Church Lane. There Williams discovered that Ackland had been rushed to hospital and the police had called at his home, wishing to speak to him.

  Believing that he would be facing no more than a charge of assault, Williams then walked to Islington police station, where he identified himself to Sergeant Alfred Willis. Williams did not try to hide the fact that he had cut Ackland, saying: ‘He came at me first. I did not cut him with a razor. It must have been done with the bottle he had, when we had a fight. He struck at me with a bottle and I hit him.’

  Unfortunately for Williams, Ackland did not respond to medical treatment. Taken to the hospital, he was seen by Dr Lois Munro at 11.00pm on the night of 1 August. She stitched the deep wound on the back of his neck, during which time she found and removed a small piece of steel, such as that which might have come from an open razor. Ackland remained conscious for about two hours, then slipped into a coma. He was given a blood transfusion but died at 2.40am on 2 August. Williams, still in his police cell, was roused soon afterwards, and told that he was now facing a charge of murder.

  Frederick Williams’ trial took place on 9 September 1931. The prosecution case was detailed by Mr Eustace Fulton, who was assisted by Mr Gerald Dodson. Williams was defended by Mr Martin O’Connor.

  One of the early witnesses was George Robert Gazzard, Amelia’s fifteen-year-old son. He said that he had seen Ted Burns, the name by which he knew the dead man, go towards his mother’s house. He was followed by the prisoner, and the two men started to fight in the street. One of the men was carrying either a glass or a bottle and this fell during the struggle and smashed on the pavement.

  At this point, Williams left the scene, but returned just a few minutes later. George warned Ackland of his approach and, once again, the two men met in the middle of the road. A second fight began and then George saw a flash of light on a blade of some sort. Ackland then staggered backwards, bleeding badly from a wound on the back of his neck. George immediately ran off to find a police officer.

  Constable Charles Bailey was, in fact, further up the street at the time that the fight erupted for the second time. He saw one of the two men collapse to the ground and ran to see what assistance he could give. He found Ackland lying on the ground. in a pool of blood, and arranged for an ambulance to take him to the Royal Free Hospital.

  Dr Bernard Henry Spilsbury had performed the post-mortem on Ackland, on 3 August. He reported a deep wound across the back of Ackland’s neck and a second, superficial wound, on his right arm. The wound on the neck began behind the right ear, extended all the way around the back, and ended on Ackland’s left cheek. It was almost down to the spinal column at the deepest part. Death had been caused by the amount of blood lost.

  Rebecca Ackland was the dead man’s wife. She lived at 51 Trego Road, Hackney Wick and stated that she and Ackland were separated. They had not lived together for twelve years. Rebecca might well have greatly improved Williams’ chances of escaping the noose, when she told the court that her husband had been a very violent man and had started many fights with other men.

  A statement Williams had made, when charged with murder was then read out in court. In that he claimed again that the fight had all been down to Ackland, and denied that he had used a razor on the man. He ended his statement with the words: ‘I had no intention of killing Ted. I had never had a row with him before. That is all I have to say.’

  The jury had a number of points to ponder. The medical evidence of Dr Munro showed that some kind of metallic blade had been used to inflict the wound on Ackland. Tests had shown that the smashed bottle, found at the scene, bore no traces of blood and also that the individual pieces were not sharp enough to cause such a wound. Against that,
they had to balance the fact that whilst Williams had taken Ackland’s life, the latter had, almost certainly, started the fight. It was, perhaps, those points that led them to return the verdict that William was not guilty of murder, but was guilty of manslaughter.

  For Frederick Williams, that verdict meant that a term of imprisonment replaced the hangman’s noose.

  Chapter 34

  Frederick George Murphy

  1937

  Wednesday 12 May 1937, was a day of celebration throughout the United Kingdom, for it was Coronation Day for King George VI and his wife, Queen Mary. The entire nation enjoyed a public holiday. Many businesses, especially in London, were closed on that day, and the next, and only due to re-open on Friday 14 May.

  Stanley Herbert Wilton, was a salesman for a furniture company, based at 22 Islington Green and, early on the Friday morning, he received a visitor, Ethel May Marshall, who handed him a note. The note read, in part:

  Dear Stan,

  Don’t get frighten [sic] there is a dead woman in number 22 and you can believe me, Stan. It [sic] nothing to do with me, but you know what the police will say.

  The note ended with:

  Stan you can believe me. I don’t know anything about how this woman got in the cellar of number 22.

  Stanley hadn’t been down in the shop cellar since 5 May, and, thinking that the note was a joke in very poor taste indeed, went to check for himself. There, in the cellar, hidden behind a trunk, was the body of a woman. Stanley immediately called in the police. Fortunately for the investigation, Stanley Wilton was able to tell the police exactly who had written the note. He knew that Ethel Marshall was the girlfriend of fifty-three-year-old Frederick George Murphy, a man employed by the company as an odd-job man.

  Dr Sydney Boyd Faulkner arrived at the shop at 11.30am, and made his initial examination of the body. He estimated that she had been dead for at least twenty-four hours, possibly longer, and noticed that there was a bruise, beneath the point of the woman’s chin, another on her neck, and that the left side of her face was swollen. Though it looked as though she might have been struck, the cause of death appeared to be strangulation, though that would need to be confirmed at the post-mortem. That post-mortem was duly carried out by Sir Bernard Spilsbury, who confirmed that death had been due to strangulation. The cricoid and hyoid bones, in the throat, were both fractured, and it was determined that the strangulation had been carried out manually.

  A description of the dead woman was published in the newspapers, and this led Mary Ann Leat to come forward, and identify the body as that of her sister, forty-eight-year-old Rosina Field. Rosina was the wife of William Edward Field, but had been separated from him for some time, and had since been living at a lodging house at 13 Duncan Terrace, also in Islington.

  Meanwhile, Frederick Murphy was absent from his own lodgings, at 57a Colebrooke Row, and a police hunt was launched for him. However, before officers had the chance to find him, Murphy walked into the police station at Poplar, on 15 May, and said he wished to make a statement about the body in the cellar.

  In that statement, Murphy claimed that he had gone into the shop on Thursday 13 May, in order to do some cleaning, and in the course of his work, had gone down into the cellar, and found the woman’s body. He admitted that he had moved the body, in order to hide it, but denied having anything whatsoever to do with her death. He had, since then, told much the same story to Ethel Marshall, which is why she had agreed to deliver the letter for him on the Friday. However, further inquiries showed that Murphy was not telling the whole truth.

  Morris Fieldberry was a builder, and had recently been doing some work at 17 Islington Green. He told the police that at 7.00am, on 12 May, he had seen Murphy, a man he knew well, letting himself into number 22. He had had a woman with him and, although Fieldberry was unable to positive identify the woman, he did remember a very distinctive blue coat, which she had been wearing. Shown the coat that Rosina had been wearing, when her body was discovered, Fieldberry confirmed that it was the one he had seen.

  Herbert Robert Fleming had known Murphy for some eighteen months, and also knew Rosina, though he knew her as Rosie. Fleming told the police that on Coronation Day, 12 May, Rosie had borrowed 2d from him, so that she could buy herself a cup of tea at a cafe. Later that same day, just after 8.00pm, he saw Rosie again, and this time she was with Murphy. Two hours later, at 10.00pm, he saw Murphy again, and this time he was alone.

  The statements given by those two men, placed the dead woman in Murphy’s company throughout 12 May. It must be remembered that Murphy had not only claimed that he knew nothing about Rosina’s murder, but claimed that he had not known the woman at all. It was enough to arrest him, and charge him with her murder.

  Frederick Murphy appeared at the Old Bailey on 30 June 1937, before the Lord Chief Justice, Lord Hewart. The proceedings lasted until 2 July, during which time the prisoner was defended by Mr F Ashe Lincoln and Mr Michael Peacock. The case for the Crown was led by Mr L A Byrne, who was assisted by Mr Christmas Humphreys.

  Witnesses were called who showed that not only had Murphy known the dead woman, but that he had known her for some considerable time. John Donoghue recalled going to the Blue Hall cinema, on Upper Street, on 26 February 1937. As he left the cinema, at around 10.00pm, he noticed a woman, a known prostitute, who had accosted him some days before. She was now with a man, aged around fifty, and five feet six, or seven, inches tall. Donoghue was walking in the same direction as the couple, and eventually saw them stop at a furniture shop at 22 Islington Green. The man looked about the street, and then used a key to open the door. Both he and the woman, then entered the shop. Since that time, Donoghue had positively identified Murphy as the man, and Rosina as the woman.

  John William Glover knew Rosina well, and he recalled a meeting with her, in Clerkenwell. Glover, who knew she was a prostitute, asked her how business was, and she replied that there wasn’t much about. She went on to say that she wasn’t unduly worried, though, as she knew a man, who would let her sleep in a furniture shop, opposite to Collins Music Hall, if she ever ran out of money. The prosecution pointed out that almost directly opposite the music hall, was number 22, Islington Green.

  The next witness proved that Murphy was in the habit of using the shop for his own sexual purposes. Emily Robinson, who was a fellow lodger at 13 Duncan Terrace, with Rosina, and who also worked as a prostitute, testified that on 6 May, she had been approached by Murphy, who invited her into number 22, so that they might have sex. She had agreed, and they had performed the deed, on a dirty mattress in the cellar. For her services, Murphy paid her the princely sum of 8d, but also told her to help herself to a rug in the shop.

  All this was enough for the jury, who, after a deliberation of forty-five minutes, found Murphy guilty as charged. Only now could a number of interesting facts be revealed. The first, was that Murphy had a long criminal record. No less than five previous offences were listed against his name, and these included convictions for assault, living on immoral earnings, receiving, and theft. Of more relevance, though, was an event in 1929.

  On 12 March 1929, a woman’s body had been found in Flint Street, Walworth. Catherine Peck had been found with her throat cut, and the police investigation showed that earlier that night, she had been seen drinking in the Wheatsheaf public house in Leman Street, with a man named Frederick Murphy. Murphy had been arrested and charged with murder but, at his trial on 28 May, had been found not guilty and discharged. Coincidentally, Catherine Peck’s nickname had been Rose.

  Murphy entered an appeal against his conviction for the murder of Rosina Field, and this was heard, on 29 July, by Justices Swift, Finlay and du Parcq. They saw no reason to interfere with either the verdict or the sentence of death, and duly dismissed the application. As Murphy left the courtroom he shouted at the judges: ‘I hope you have a good holiday.’

  There was no reprieve and, on Tuesday 17 August 1937, Frederick Murphy was hanged at Pentonville, by Alfred
Allen and Thomas Phillips.

  Chapter 35

  Harry Morley

  1947

  Martha Ann Varley was very pleased with her extra present. It was Christmas Eve 1947, and her husband had just given her a cigarette case and a lighter. The only problem was that the lighter did not have any fuel. She would have to get some from the shops.

  Taking three penny coins from her purse, Martha asked her eight-year-old son, Ronald James Varley, to run down to Hall’s shop at 62 Tollington Way. It was around 6.00pm when Ronald left the house to go on his errand.

  The round trip should have only taken Ronald a few minutes, even if the shop were busy, but by 6.30pm, he had still not returned home. Martha was not unduly worried, however. She knew that her two other sons, twelve-year-old Frederick and ten-year-old Henry, had gone to look in a toy shop in Holloway Road. She had no doubt that Ronald had gone to meet up with them. It was, after all, Christmas.

  At 6.40pm, Frederick and Henry arrived home to say that had seen nothing of Ronald. The family began to search for the missing boy, even drafting in help from some of the neighbours, but still there was no trace of young Ronald. At 7.00pm, Ronald’s parents reported the boy missing at Holloway police station, before returning home to see if Ronald had appeared yet.

  A list of all Ronald’s friends was made and Frederick and Henry were despatched to the various houses to see if Ronald was at any of them. The search continued, but by the time Mr and Mrs Varley returned home, at 10.20pm, there was still no news of Ronald.

  One of the people who had been helping in the search was George Murphy, Martha’s brother-in-law. At 10.20pm, as the Varley’s returned home, George updated them as to how the search was going, and said that he did not think there was much more they could do that night. The search party was going to go home, and intended to call in at a pub on the way, for a quick drink. However, before that, George would search the bomb site nearby. He did, after all, have a powerful torch with him. There was an old bombed out shop there, a large area of cleared land, and an old air-raid shelter and George said he would check them all out before he went for his drink.