Unsolved London Murders

by Jonathan Oates

  Kensington Cemetery, 2008. Author’s collection

  Several women claimed that they heard Vera just before she was killed. Oddie made a reference to a deaf woman who claimed she heard a child’s voice in Rush’s rooms on the 14 December. However, he added, ‘This lady was deaf and may therefore easily have been mistaken.’ Two women who lived in a flat in Ladbrooke Grove, opposite Stanley Gardens, said that on the same night, at about 8.30 pm they heard a scream, ‘It was the scream of a child in pain’. They could not, however, see anyone from across the road. As one declared, ‘There was not a soul in sight. It was most eerie. This sudden single shrill cry coming through the night.’

  Another witness said that he had noticed rather odd behaviour on the early morning of 15 December, on Montpelier Road. There was rustling in the bushes in the front garden, and then he saw a man running in the direction of Clarendon Road. This may not have had any connection with the murder, however, but was probably a would-be burglar.

  Inspector Neil thought that the killer was either a maniac or/and insane. He noted that 7,000 people were released annually, apparently cured, from asylums, but he thought that some remained dangerous. With this case in mind, he asked the rhetorical question, ‘What do the police know of the mental history of the male population in and around the densely populated neighbourhood in which little Vera Page was done to death?’ It is unclear, though, whether the killer was insane as well as evil.

  The police investigation was grinding to a halt. Detective Inspector Emanuel wrote on 18 January 1932:

  So far, some thousands of statements have been taken, and every channel explored to trace the murderer, but unfortunately, up to the present, we have not met with success, and indeed our only suspect in this case is Rush. Intensive enquiries are being continued in every direction, including special attention to Rush and the possibility, even now, of finding some person who saw him on Monday 14th in company with the dead girl, or under circumstances that would strengthen our suspicion of his being the person sought.

  In public, they were upbeat, referring to new clues and a man being strongly suspected.

  Despite that, the adjourned inquest was resumed on 10 February. The witnesses and evidence were presented to the jury, but their inconclusive nature was also pointed out, too. Rush elected to give evidence. He stressed that he was wholly innocent, that he barely knew Vera and had not been near Blenheim Crescent, Stanley Crescent nor Addison Road on 14–16 December. He described his movements and said that he had not seen her on 14 December. He now said that he had very little knowledge of Vera and had only spoken to her once. He claimed he would not know her again, despite being pressed on this matter by Oddie. At one point, when being asked about the bandage, he began to show signs of stress, drumming his fingers on the witness box and then smiling at the questions he was asked. This earned him a rebuke and he denied he was laughing. On being asked if he had seen her on 14 December, he was adamant that he had not and swore on the Bible to that effect. During his statement, a woman stood up at the back of the court and said ‘That man is telling lies.’ Unfortunately, we do not know who she was or on what grounds, if any, she made such a remark. After a balanced summing up, when Oddie told the jury that they must be very sure of the evidence before coming to their conclusion, the jury retired for five minutes and then returned to declare that this was a case of murder by person or persons unknown. The jury were not reminded of Rush’s previous offences (though they could have read in the local press about his recent appearances at the West London Magistrates’ Court) or that there was semen found on his coat, but they did know of his loitering at nights. Oddie then passed on his sympathies to the grieving parents.

  Oddie concluded: ‘the most interesting and horrible inquest I ever held was brought to an unsatisfactory termination’. He did make some tentative conclusions. First, that Vera knew her killer, that he probably enticed her to a house with the promise of a meal and there he fed her and probably killed her after the meal. He hid the body in a warm room, and then in a coal cellar. The corpse was carried through the streets on Wednesday morning. The beret, candle and certificates were thrown away on the night after the murder. He had three questions. These were, where was Vera between 5 and 6.45 pm? Why did she walk past her house when she was hungry and knew she could have a meal there? Finally, who gave her last meal?

  The other question to be asked is why were the beret, candle and certificates found in Stanley Crescent? The murder probably took place elsewhere, because there were traces of paraffin on the beret and the beret had probably picked up paraffin in the killer’s room. But if so, why take the risk of throwing the three clues out as a separate trip, presumably on his way to or from work? Why not dispose of them and the body all together? And why did he tear the certificates up?

  Another mystery is Rush’s wife, who was never named in the proceedings and is rarely referred to. There is not even a reference to her being questioned about her husband. If Rush was guilty, then he almost certainly concealed the corpse of Vera in his rooms. If so, she could hardly fail to notice the corpse. Was she an accessory after the fact? Presumably she was. The idea that a woman could be involved in such a heinous crime would have been, at this time, inconceivable, but with our greater knowledge of women being involved in child murders (e.g. Myra Hindley and Rosemary West), we know that this is sadly not the case. Another, even more disturbing possibility is that she may have played a more direct part in her husband’s crime by giving Vera a meal between 5 and 6.30 pm on 14 December when Vera’s whereabouts are unknown. We don’t know what her movements were on the day of the murder, so this is, of course, speculation. She, and her husband, could have been perfectly innocent. Yet the police did think that someone was shielding the killer and a woman was used to decoy the victim, and a little girl is more likely to have gone off with a woman than a man.

  The police investigation continued. Mrs Key told them on 30 March that she had seen Rush with the barrow, whereas earlier she said she had not been certain. Cornish dismissed this, claiming ‘She is too unreliable to take serious notice of.’ The official police report admitted on 26 April:

  I beg to report that this enquiry has been followed up in all possible directions but unfortunately we have not been able to obtain the slightest information which would carry this matter further. Since submitting last report, nothing of note has come to light worth mentioning.

  Mr J A Duncan, MP for North Kensington, asked the Home Secretary whether the suspects would be tailed, but this was not to occur, despite a continuing investigation. Cornish certainly wanted to catch the killer – he wrote: ‘if ever a man deserved hanging, he does’. Yet the police were not convinced of Rush’s guilt. The case remained open for decades, but had effectively ended in 1932. There were many other leads given to the police from 1932 and for the next 20 years. Cornish recalled that there were letters by theorists, spiritualists and others, giving help, but as the superintendent wrote, there was ‘nothing of any practical value’. One Snarey, a convict in Cardiff prison, wrote to say he had relevant information, but on investigation it was found he had not and only made such comments in order to be transferred to another jail. A Chelmsford prisoner said he had seen a man at Birmingham prison who he thought was responsible. Mrs Roth of Cricklewood told police that she had seen a gardener with a cut finger, but did not know who he was. Some of the information sent was downright odd. One Thomas Rance of Camberwell, on 20 April, said that a stranger gave him a tennis ball with the words ‘Vera Page’ on it. Others accused men they disliked. In 1933, one Mr Alexander accused his new brother in-law, Henry Hill, of the killing, as he had begun to grow a beard shortly after the murder, had a vile temper and was heard to ‘express his intention of strangling other children’. Yet Alexander’s motive in telling the police this was that he hated his sister’s husband. A report in the Daily Express on 25 August 1932 claimed the police had fresh evidence, in this case and that of Louisa Steele (murdered on Blackheath in 1931). Y
et this was wholly unfounded and merely served to distress the mothers of the two murdered girls (at least the killer of Miss Steele had, unbeknown to the public, been incarcerated for life for another murder).

  In 1943, an anonymous telegram was sent to the police: ‘Beware the phantom found Holland Park Road, London, 12 years ago the child Vera Page’. John Howell, who was serving in the Navy, was accused, and the police suspected that his estranged alcoholic wife, who lived in Edinburgh, might be responsible. Mrs Howell admitted this, and as the police noted, ‘She has drinking bouts and does these silly things whilst under the influence.’

  Interest in the murder continued after 1945. Neville Heath (1917–46), who murdered two women (one of them in a hotel in Notting Hill), was accused of being the murderer, yet as he was only 14 when Vera was killed, it seemed impossible. A letter was sent in 1955 by Thomas Harrington, a convict, implicating two men because he had had a quarrel with them and wanted to get them into trouble. William Muir, ‘a victim of confused thinking’, wrote in the following year about the murder and was the last one to do so.

  Mrs Short, who had found the beret and candle, faced other issues in August 1932. She and her family were given notice to quit from their lodgings and were unable to find new accommodation. She considered changing her name so no one would associate her with the murder. She had had no idea that her actions would have had such consequences.

  Yet none of the information sent to the police was taken seriously. The principal suspect remained Rush. Was he guilty? There was certainly a great deal of circumstantial evidence against him. He was in the vicinity of the murder when it happened, he had known the district for much of his life and had no alibi. He had a record of sexual offences. He had recently worn a bandage and one had been found with the victim. He knew the murdered girl. There was also a degree of local suspicion against him. He could have seen Vera on the day before the murder, when he was at his parents, and have arranged to meet her on the following evening after work, when he assaulted her, killed her, hid her in his rooms and then wheeled her corpse to the address in Addison Road. His wife may have assisted him after the deed was done or aided him beforehand. Writers discussing the Ripper murders have accused many blameless men on far less evidence, but in this case, most seem unconvinced about Rush’s guilt, though they did not know all there is to know about him.

  Yet it could not be certain that he was responsible, for he had not been seen with Vera on the night in question and much of the other evidence is inconclusive. Where did he find the crucial barrow, for instance? No one is known to have reported one missing, or to have lent/sold one to Rush, and one was not found abandoned or in Rush’s possession. Could he have borrowed one from work and returned it shortly afterwards? Laundries used them to convey clothes from and to their clients. Yet there is still certainly room for reasonable doubt. It was right that he was not charged, for this was a hanging offence, but the question mark over his guilt or innocence must remain. The killer must have been a man who knew Vera to an extent, if it was true that she did not speak to strangers, and he clearly had a peculiar sexual kink. Killers usually commit lesser offences before they carry out the ultimate crime of murder (John Christie was responsible for several minor crimes before turning to serial murder, as was Arthur Salvage, a double murderer of 1931). He also lived locally and had a bandaged finger. Rush had all these characteristics, but there may have been someone else in the neighbourhood who also did, but who never came under the police’s radar, or under any local suspicion. No one else is noted as a suspect, but that does not mean that Rush was guilty of such a heinous crime.

  In more recent times, there has been much more study on the topic of child abuse and murder. The conclusions reached are that the perpetrator is almost always someone known to the child. They have usually been getting to know the child (and their family) for some time before the attack/s, gaining their confidence with sweets or toys, and spending time with them. They are usually cunning as well as cruel. Rush would certainly meet this profile, but there might have been others. There are references in the West London Magistrates’ Court to other men who we would now term ‘sex offenders’. Yet a child’s social circle of adult friends is usually limited and no one else was mentioned. It is presumed that a member of the Page family was not the perpetrator of this foul deed, though family members have been known to commit such acts. No one seems to have investigated this possibility at the time, and there seems to have been no psychiatric examination of Rush, either. Had he stood trial, there would have been. Modern forensic methods, too, would have been able to have conclusively proved whether there was a link between Vera and Rush, based on the relatively copious physical evidence. Yet these techniques were sadly lacking in 1931. This may have led to a vicious killer escaping the price of his crimes.

  The postscript to the story is that the Pages, having spent Christmas with relatives in Hammersmith, moved away from Blenheim Crescent in 1932, leaving the foul associations of the district behind as best they could. Charles Page died in 1959, aged 67 and was buried with his daughter. Rush’s father died in 1933. As to Rush himself, he remained at Talbot Road until moving in 1947, though his wife died in early 1937, aged only 46. His mother lived with him for the remainder of her life, dying in 1944. We know little of Rush’s later years, except that he is not known to have committed any more crimes. Rush clearly was not sensitive to his surroundings, nor felt any social pressure/hostility to move away. Was this evidence of innocence or callousness? In any case, he died in obscurity in the autumn of 1961 in the Ealing district. His guilty secrets, if any, died with him. But if he did not kill Vera, who did?

  Perhaps the final words should be the epitaph on Vera’s gravestone, flanked by angels:

  In Loving

  Memory of

  VERA

  BELOVED CHILD OF C. AND I. PAGE

  PASSED AWAY

  14TH DECEMBER 1931

  AGED 10 YEARS

  GOD GAVE THE TREASURE FOR A WHILE

  TO FILL US WITH HIS LOVE

  AND THEN HE TOOK HIS DARLING CHILD

  TO DWELL WITH HIM ABOVE.

  CHAPTER 14

  The Most Dangerous Game, 1932

  The unsolved murder of Dora Alicia Lloyd is a perfect short story with the night life of the streets around Piccadilly Circus for its background. (Superintendent Cornish)

  The oldest profession is also one of the most dangerous for the practitioner, as they inhabit a no man’s land just outside the law. Serial killers often make them their prey, as in the East End in the late nineteenth century (Jack the Ripper) or in the 1940s and 1950s (John Christie), or perhaps as happened in the London of the 1930s (see Chapter 17). Yet in this period, it was the seedy West End, not Whitechapel and Spitalfields, that was the scene of foul deeds. Thorp wrote ‘It is unfortunate, but true: The West End of London spells VICE’. Killers could easily escape because they came and went in great secrecy. They rarely revisited the scenes of their crimes, either before or afterwards and usually had no previous acquaintanceship with the victim, so could not be connected to them in any way.

  Dora Alicia Lloyd had had seventeen convictions at Marlborough Street Police Station for prostitution from 1919 to 1928. By 1932 she was a widow, as her husband, Walter Lloyd, alias Walter O’Brien, a music hall artiste, had died in 1927. She was described at that time thus:

  aged 44, 5 ft. 3 in. or 5 ft. 4 in. in height, very stout build, full round face, dressed in brown dress, black velvet coat, trimmed dark fur at bottom and collar, small black tight-fitting hat, light coloured stockings, probably light coloured shoes. She was carrying a folded newspaper and a small parcel wrapped in white paper.

  However, she was said to look younger than her real age. She spent the early evening of Saturday 20 February 1932 in her lodgings in Lanark Villas, Maida Vale, with one Helen Herbert, drinking port. At half past ten they left together. Soon afterwards, Dora was in the company of Margaret Marsters, an old friend of 20 years’ standing.
They had two drinks each at Noah’s Ark, a pub on Or Street. They left at eleven, taking a bus to Piccadilly. They then went to Heppell’s, a well known chemists for a ‘pick me up’ (in Brideshead Revisited, similar concoctions were purchased from Heppell’s for Charles Ryder and friends to help them sober up).

  Piccadilly Circus at night. Paul Lang’s collection

  The two women took a bus to Oxford Circus. Dora bought a newspaper there and then they returned to Heppell’s. They then went to a cafe in Shaftesbury Avenue for a coffee and parted at Air Street at one in the morning. Margaret recalled Dora’s parting words, ‘Ta-ta, cock’. There were other women in Air Street, also touting for business. One was Florence Crocker, who recalled a man approaching her. He was aged 35, five feet nine tall, of medium build, darkish, with dark hair and was clean shaven. He was wearing horn-rimmed glasses, a blue melton coat and a black trilby. According to Florence, ‘He spoke in a very nice and gentlemanly manner.’ However, he was unemployed and could only offer Florence fifteen shillings (which seems a very reasonable fee), so she told him to go home. Apparently he may have lived in Kensington or Wimbledon. Florence said that she would know him again. Margaret James said that the man said hello to her and that he was slightly drunk.