The Mammoth Book of Bizarre Crimes

by Odell, Robin

  Mister Indestructible

  A five-man murder ring operating in New York during the Great Depression targeted individuals who were down on their luck whom they insured and then murdered to claim the money. When they selected Mike Malloy, his resistance to numerous attempts on his life earned him the nickname “Indestructible Mike”.

  The gang had claimed their first victim a year earlier and collected on the insurance. They got Betty Carlsen drunk, took her back to her room, stripped her, poured cold water over her body and left the window open. When she expired, the cause of death was indicated as pneumonia and no questions were asked.

  Next in line was Mike Malloy who hung around the bars looking for a handout. He was easily persuaded to sign up for life insurance. The plotters’ first tactic was to buy him enough drinks to kill him by alcoholism. When he seemed to thrive on this treatment, they tried car antifreeze, which Malloy consumed without hesitation and after being unwell, soon returned to his old routine.

  The gang persisted with the antifreeze and laced it first with turpentine, then horse liniment and finally rat poison. Malloy thrived on these cocktails so the plotters switched to offering him adulterated food. He was still on his feet after consuming poisoned oysters and rotten fish. The next move was to get him drunk and expose him to the elements, a strategy that had worked with the first victim.

  Amazingly, he survived, having been found wandering naked around a public park. The plotters were becoming desperate and opted for even more brutal tactics. A taxi-driver was bribed to run him down in the street, and after examining Malloy’s senseless body, they decided they had succeeded this time. To their disappointment, he turned up three weeks later, saying he had been concussed and asking for a drink.

  Running out of ideas, the gang resolved at this stage to go for direct murder. On 22 February 1933, the five-member gang visited Malloy in his rented room and gassed him. A doctor was persuaded to issue a certificate giving pneumonia as the cause of death and Mike Malloy was buried with indecent haste.

  By now, rumours of a murder-for-profit gang operating in the city had reached the New York Police Department. Following enquiries, Malloy’s body was exhumed and the true nature of his death established. The gang members, when questioned, each blamed the others and one turned States Evidence. Tony Marino, Harry Green, Joe Murphy, Dan Kreisberg and Frank Pasqua were found guilty and all except Green sentenced to death. They were executed in the electric chair at Sing Sing in 1934.

  A footnote to this affair was that the gang spent more on their efforts to kill “Indestructible Mike” than they re-couped by claiming on his insurance.

  Murder In A Locked Room

  A murder committed in a locked room is one of the crime world’s classic mysteries. The death of a laundry operator in New York in 1929 teased the imagination of film director, Alfred Hitchcock, and writer Ben Hecht. Neither came up with an explanation.

  Isidor Fink, orphaned in his native Poland, emigrated to America where he worked hard and saved enough money to start his own laundry on East 123rd Street. He occupied one large ground-floor room in a tenement block which served both his business and domestic needs. He also had two rooms at the rear of the building, which he sub-let to an elderly woman who lived on her own. There was a connecting door to these rooms, which was permanently bolted shut on both sides.

  Fink was very conscious of the need for security in an area where crime was commonplace. Accordingly, every door and window was secured with locks, bolts and bars. On 9 March, after making a few local laundry deliveries, he returned home about 10.15 p.m. A neighbouring shopkeeper noticed that Fink’s premises were closed up with no lights showing.

  At about 10.30, the tenant in the rooms adjoining the laundry heard three shots, followed by a heavy thud. She raised the alarm by running into the street and calling for help. A police patrolman on duty nearby responded within a minute. After listening to the woman’s explanation of what she heard, the officer tried the door and found it locked. Next, he tried the connecting door from the rented rooms. It too was locked on the laundry side.

  The patrolman’s next brainwave was to ask a boy among the crowd that had gathered if he would crawl through a small window, enabling him to gain access to the front door and release the bolt. This proved difficult because the window had been nailed to the frame and did not, therefore, open. Finally, by breaking the glass, the officer made an opening for the boy to get through.

  Once inside the laundry, the patrolman saw the body of Isidor Fink lying on the floor. He was dead with two bullet wounds in the chest and another in his arm. The immediate reading of the scene suggested suicide, but where was the gun?

  A thorough search of the premises failed to find the weapon, which the medical examiner thought was probably .38 calibre. The doctor thought the death was a murder because of the distance from the body that the firearm had been discharged. Robbery did not appear to be the motive as no money had been taken. The only fingerprints found at the scene were those of Isidor Fink.

  After months of investigation, detectives came no nearer to solving the laundryman’s death. They were satisfied that the room and every conceivable entry or exit point had been locked and bolted when the shots were fired. Searches were made for possible secret panels that might conceal a weapon. None was found. The violent death of the thirty-year-old laundryman remained a mystery as far as crime scene investigators were concerned. The only hope of solving it lay with the ingenuity of fiction writers.

  Hats Off !

  Ernest Key, a sixty-four-year-old jeweller who had been in business in Surbiton, Surrey, for twenty years, was found unconscious in his shop on Christmas Eve 1938. His son and daughter discovered their father lying in a pool of blood after a savage knife attack. He had sustained thirty-one wounds and died on the way to hospital.

  It was evident that the murder had occurred in the course of a robbery as jewellery was missing from the shop. Intriguingly, the murderer had appeared to leave his bowler hat behind when he fled from the crime scene. One of the first officials to arrive at the premises in Victoria Road, Surbiton, was the County Pathologist, Dr Eric Gardner. He made a preliminary assessment of the scene pending the arrival of the Home Office expert, Sir Bernard Spilsbury.

  Dr Gardner looked at the abandoned headgear and gave the police some ideas about the likely wearer. As events unfolded, these clues proved unnecessary because the murderer, who had injured his hand in the attack on Ernest Key, presented himself at Kingston County Hospital seeking treatment. As it happened, he saw the same doctor who, an hour earlier, had been called out to attend Mr Key. Twenty-nine-year-old William Butler, an unemployed driver with convictions for house-breaking, had taken a taxi to the hospital where he gave a false name and said he had injured his hand in an accident using a wood-cutting machine.

  When questioned by the police, he changed his story, claiming that he had been knocked down by a motorcycle in the street. He had given false information at the hospital he said, because he could not afford to pay for treatment.

  Butler was charged with murder and appeared on trial at the Old Bailey in February 1938. His contention that he had acted in self-defence did not find favour with the jury who brought in a guilty verdict. He was sentenced to death and hanged at Wandsworth Prison on 29 March 1939.

  The bowler hat left at the crime scene was something of a red herring but Dr Gardner’s observations made international news and prompted the Berlin police to enquire about the British clairvoyant crime expert.

  A Man Who Knew Too Much

  Recognized as a knowledgeable local man, Paul Belvin was flattered to be asked by detectives if he would help them reconstruct a murder. He accepted whole-heartedly, and in the process, revealed knowledge possessed only by the crime investigators and the murderer himself.

  Twenty-four-year-old Jean Burrows was a British journalist working in Bermuda. On 3 July 1971, she and her husband, together with two friends, dined at a harbourside restaurant in Ham
ilton. After their meal, they decided to return to the Burrows’ home for coffee and set off on their mopeds around 1.00 a.m. Jean Burrows never arrived.

  A search was mounted at daylight and her body was found floating in the harbour. She had sustained severe head injuries and been partially strangled; she had also been raped. The pathologist believed that after being rendered unconscious, she was held under water until she expired.

  A search of the area discovered several of her possessions scattered about on swampy ground and her moped was recovered from a patch of long grass. Local enquiries produced useful information including the name of a man who had been noticed on the beach because of the attention he paid to young women swimming and sunbathing. He was twenty-eight-year-old Paul Belvin, who was something of a drifter with no fixed address.

  Belvin had become a minor local celebrity when he won a prize in a competition and attracted a good deal of publicity. Detectives decided to question him and were impressed by the extent of his knowledge of the locals and of peoples’ comings and goings.

  One of the detectives suggested that Belvin might be able to help in the reconstruction they were planning to stage of Jean Burrows’ murder. No doubt flattered, he agreed, and accompanied officers to the harbour area. He proceeded to give a graphic portrayal of how and where the killer might have hidden in order to ambush his victim. Indeed, he indicated the exact spot where she was found.

  Asked about the injuries Burrows had sustained, Belvin’s view was that the murderer had probably used an iron pipe to batter her into submission. No mention had previously been made about such a murder weapon. Belvin made the helpful suggestion that the pipe had probably been thrown into the sea. His prediction proved to be entirely accurate when naval divers retrieved a metal pipe from the sea within throwing distance from the shore.

  Belvin had already revealed knowledge of the crime known only to the police and he quickly found himself under arrest. Forensic examination of some of his clothing showed trace evidence connecting him to the victim. He was charged with murder on 1 September 1971 and made a full statement.

  The man who knew too much for his own good was put on trial for murder and found guilty. The death sentence imposed on Belvin was subsequently commuted to life imprisonment.

  Not A Good Place

  David Chenery-Wickens was a spiritualist minister known as “The Reverend”. He killed his wife and dumped her body. Then, using her mobile phone, he sent text messages for her friends to make it appear she was still alive. He also left a message for his dead wife: “I’m trying to tune into you. You seem to be in not a good place . . .”

  The “not in a good place” was a bramble patch about ten miles from their home in East Sussex where Diane Chenery-Wickens’ decomposed body was found five months later. She had confronted her husband on 22 January 2008 with the discovery of a telephone bill itemizing calls to one of his mistresses and to a gay chatline.

  Fearing exposure of his secret life, he killed Diane and, two days later, reported her missing. He told the police that they had gone together to London where she had an appointment at the BBC and they agreed to meet up afterwards. According to him, she failed to turn up. CCTV evidence proved that Diane had travelled alone to London and there was no scheduled appointment at the BBC where she worked as an accomplished television make-up artist.

  He subsequently changed his story, directing blame on to Diane for the breakdown of their marriage, and claiming she was going to start a new life in Spain. Meanwhile, within days of her disappearance, he was busy pawning her jewellery.

  Fifty-two-year-old Chenery-Wickens came to believe, when he was still in his early twenties, that he had the gift of communicating with the dead. In due course, he gained accreditation as a spiritual healer and began to call himself “The Reverend”. To his workmates at the time, when he was driving trucks, he was known as “Cosmic Dave”.

  By 2003, he had given up truck driving and began to work as a healer offering counselling. When a spiritual church was established at Crowborough in Sussex, he led a teaching group of mainly female participants. He learned a great deal about their private lives, which enabled him to control his relationships with them. He was a sexual predator and had a string of affairs. He was also constantly short of money and, by spinning tales about needing funds to pay for medical treatment, persuaded some of his conquests to lend him money.

  Diane, a respected professional in her field, was the breadwinner with a high salary who paid for everything in their home. When she learned of her husband’s deception, he killed her without hesitation and manufactured a web of lies in his attempt to cover up his crime.

  Chenery-Wickens was tried for murder at Lewes Crown Court in March 2009. He was found guilty by a unanimous decision of the jury and Mr Justice Cooke sentenced him to imprisonment for at least eighteen years.

  “Murder In Their Hearts”

  Gerry Tobin, a thirty-five-year-old mechanic and member of the Hell’s Angels, was driving home to London riding his Harley-Davidson motorcycle on 12 August 2007. He was returning from the Bulldog Bash biker festival in Warwickshire, travelling down the M40 motorway when he was followed by a fast-moving car. As the car drew level, two shots were fired at Tobin. He died instantly and the car sped away.

  CCTV images at a motorway filling station picked up a green Rover car believed to have been used by the gunman. Such a car was later found abandoned as a burnt-out wreck, denying investigators any hope of retrieving forensic material. By tracing previous owners of the car, however, police were led to forty-four-year-old Sean Creighton from Coventry. He was described as Sergeant-at-arms of the South Warwickshire chapter of the Outlaws, a rival biker gang to the Hell’s Angels.

  Public enquiries identified six other members of the chapter and, along with Creighton, they were charged with the murder of Tobin. Creighton appeared to have been the instigator of a plan to kill a Hell’s Angel biker after the festival held at Long Marston, which the Outlaws regarded as their territory.

  When the festival closed on 12 August, Tobin set off home, riding his Harley-Davidson, in convoy with two other bikers. Creighton, together with Dave Garside and Simon Turner, waited in the Rover at a lay-by on the A46. They were looking for a passing biker wearing the Hell’s Angels’ insignia. Karl Garside and two others waited as back-up in another vehicle and a third vehicle driven by Malcolm Bull. Tobin was targeted as he drove past for no better reason than that he was a Hell’s Angel biker and a member of a rival group.

  Charges were brought against seven of the Outlaws and they were sent for trial at Birmingham Crown Court in October 2008. Creighton pleaded guilty to murder at the outset and did not give evidence. Dave Garside said he drove the car on the day of the shooting but was unaware that violence was planned. Simon Turner from Nuneaton, Malcolm Bull, Karl Garside, Dean Taylor and Ian Cameron, all from Coventry, were in the other cars. They pleaded not guilty to murder.

  The prosecutor described the killing of Tobin as “a thoroughly cold-blooded business” which had been planned in considerable detail. The victim had been targeted, selected and, he suggested, some might say, executed. Tobin was hit in the neck by a shot which penetrated his skull. Bearing in mind that the car containing the gunman, and Tobin on his Harley-Davidson, were all travelling at around 80 mph, indicated that the shooting was carried out with skill and precision.

  The jury at Birmingham Crown Court deliberated for eight days and gave their judgment in stages. When all the verdicts were in, the outcome was that six members of the Outlaws were found guilty of murder and Creighton, who admitted guilt at the outset, made it seven convictions. Mr Justice Treacy, who described the Outlaws as having “murder in their hearts”, sentenced all seven accused to life imprisonment with varying terms to be served.

  Private Eye Gets His Man

  When the German freighter, Gertrude Schultz, encountered a storm in the Atlantic, high winds damaged one of the oil tanks that were part of the deck cargo. A seaman sent to
inspect the damage found more than an oil spill. The leaking oil tank contained the naked bodies of two young women who had evidently been shot.

  The vessel had been at sea for six days, sailing from Galveston, Texas, and heading for the German port of Hamburg. The year was 1914 and the USA was still exporting oil to the country that was about to precipitate a world war. The captain of the Gertrude Schultz decided to continue his journey to Europe.

  On reaching his destination, the captain reported the discovery of the two bodies on his ship. The owners of the vessel decided on the unorthodox step of not pursuing an enquiry through usual channels but to hire a private investigator in the United States. When the ship next traversed the Atlantic, heading for Houston, the services of Joe Hunter were obtained to enquire into the curious affair of the two corpses found on the previous voyage.

  He contacted the authorities in Hamburg and established that there were no reports of missing twenty-year-old women at the time in question. Next, he turned his attention to Chicago where the rail tanker cars had originated. There were no reports of missing women there either. Hunter was nothing if not doggedly determined in his enquiries. His next move was to check the stations on the route that the rail cars had taken from Chicago to Galveston. Here he found something positive; a report of a woman who had gone missing two weeks before the Gertrude Schultz left port. She was twenty-three-year-old Adele Drucker whose disappearance had been reported by her aunt, Ella Abington. The young woman was the daughter of Hans Drucker who with his brother, Oscar, were the sons of a wealthy German steel producer. Hans had died and Oscar emigrated to America where he married Ella.

  After Hans died, his two daughters, Adele and Ida went to America to stay with Abington who, by this time, was divorced from Oscar. He had remarried and gone to live in Chicago. Adele and Ida went to see him but he claimed they never arrived.

  With this new information, private detective Hunter traced Adele to an address in St Louis. There he located a house which had been rented by Oscar Drucker in a false name. By the time Hunter called, the bird had flown but crucial evidence was found among the rubbish he left behind. This consisted of half-burned letters indicating that Adele and Ida had been invited to visit him.