Unsolved London Murders

by Jonathan Oates

  Regent Street, 1920s. Author’s collection

  Yet not every woman was so choosy – or greedy. Dolores Blandford recalled that Dora got into a cab with the man whom Florence had rejected. Dolores agreed with Florence’s description of him and added that he was of slim build. The police were later very sceptical about the evidence of these women, ‘Their statements as to times therefore are none too reliable’, coming as they did from ‘low type prostitutes and sodden with drink and “pick me ups”’.

  Meanwhile, at Lanark Villas, another lodger, Alexander Fraser, a 28-year-old unemployed motor driver, had returned home at ten to midnight. Unable to sleep, he sat up reading. He heard the sound of a car stopping outside the house, followed by a noise on the stairs, a knock at the door and a man’s voice. A few minutes later he heard a gurgling sound, followed by several thumps. Silence followed, then the street door was banged and he heard the sound of footsteps in the street of someone walking away.

  Fraser took no action until the following day, when he informed the landlady, Mrs Haddock. She did not know anything about the events her lodger described, but the two knocked on Dora’s door and then, when there was no response, opened it. The gas light was still burning, so the scene was all too easy to see. Mrs Haddock fainted when she saw what was in the room. They called the police.

  PC Charles Wrighton arrived at two in the afternoon and, after noting that Fraser ‘seemed very agitated and upset’, as well he might, described what he saw in the room: ‘I saw the dead body of a nude woman lying on her back; her face was bruised and bloodstained. Her left arm was lying across her chest and the right hand was resting on the right groin.’

  Dora’s corpse was lying on the bed; the bed clothes were disarranged and her clothing was on the table and on the floor. There was a ten shilling note, a handbag, a mirror, a handkerchief, three pawn tickets and a newspaper on the floor, too. These pointed to the fact that the motive for the crime was not theft, and also that Dora was short of money. A preventative (a sheath) was also found. There was only one possible clue – a pair of dark suede gentleman’s gloves which were found lying on the chest and which Helen Herbert said were not there on the previous evening. The room was photographed and checked for fingerprints. Although fingerprints were found on the mirror, these were those of the deceased and Helen Herbert’s. Detective Inspector Mallet was in charge of the case.

  At half past two, the corpse was examined by Dr Alex Baldie. He put the time of death as being about twelve hours before. He noticed that there was bruising on the forearm and right hand of the deceased, which had probably been caused as Dora tried to defend herself. The face was also bruised and bloody. The cause of death was manual strangulation. Spilsbury later examined the corpse.

  A few other facts emerged about the dead woman. She often moved address and had only been renting the bed-sitting room in Lanark Villas since 28 January 1932. A neighbour said she was absent-minded, and once went to the adjoining house under the impression she lived there. She was often known to frequent the West End in the early hours. She had a son, Charles, who had been brought up by his uncle in Cardiff. He had not seen his mother for some years and, ironically, had recently joined the Bristol Police Force.

  Dora’s fellow lodgers could shed little light on her life and death. Fraser did not know her at all. Walter Powderham, a 29 year-old labourer, had been drinking on the evening of the murder and had arrived home at about midnight. He had apparently slept soundly and heard nothing.

  Using Dora’s diary, the police tracked down a number of Dora’s male acquaintances. One was Frederick Cole, aged 56, of Porchester Terrace. He was a married man and of poor physique. He had met her several times in 1930 and had paid her for her services on each occasion. He had met her after then, though only for drinks. He ended his acquaintanceship with her because he felt it was ‘morally wrong to associate with her’. He had returned home on the fateful Saturday between 10.30 and 11. The police could not find any marks on his clothes and thought he was ‘a foolish old man’, physically incapable of murder.

  Porchester Terrace, 2008. Author’s collection

  Then there were two others. One was Walter Sandford, a retired engineer, who had briefly lived with Dora in March 1931. He had not seen her after April 1931, he said. This was despite Dora trying to renew the acquaintanceship in January 1932. Henry Grain, aged 61, a lawyer, had had some business dealings with Dora when she tried to convince him that her late husband had been a freemason and so she was entitled to money from them. He had last seen her on 13 February and had told her that her chances was non-existent.

  All these men were ruled out of the list of suspects. None met the description of the man seen with Dora as all were far too elderly. The police believed that the killer was a man who, before the morning of the murder, was a complete stranger to Dora.

  Helen Herbert also told the police what she knew. She said that Dora read The Matrimonial Post (this was the newspaper found in her room, which she had purchased earlier that night). This was so she could write to all the old bachelors who advertised there. She also wanted to extract more money from Frederick Cole, especially as she was not making much money by streetwalking. Another female acquaintance alleged that Dora had told her that she was afraid of a man who used to knock her about. Alas, this man was not named.

  It was thought that the killer might have been a regular frequenter of prostitutes in Piccadilly, as he ‘seemed to have been familiar to several of these girls who had seen him about the district before’. Indeed, when one man persuaded a drunk woman to take him to her flat, the taxi they entered was surrounded by women, who told the taxi driver that the man was the killer. The man went to a police station, but was cleared because his description did not meet that of the wanted man.

  Although no one saw the killer leaving the cab or Lanark Villas, several other people came forward with evidence. On 26 February, cab driver Albert Corbett said that a passenger, one Monica Moroney, told him that her fellow passenger was the killer. A man with a bloody hand was seen on a train from Redhill to Reading on the day of the murder. He was five feet six inches tall, with a red face, grey hair and grey gloves. William Dunlee, who sold newspapers in Westbourne Grove, recalled a man approaching him on the morning of the murder, telling him that he had had a tussle with a woman who had tried to rob him. The man was aged between 35 and 40, was between five feet six and six feet tall, of medium build and was wearing a dark overcoat and a cap. The doorkeeper at the Salvation Army hostel on Old Street was asked to vouch for one James Mackenzie who frequently slept there and told the police that the suspect had not been absent that night. None of these leads led anywhere.

  Following the lack of success, there was a conference at Scotland Yard on 24 February between Cornish, Mallett (who were both still investigating the murder of Vera Page, too), the Assistant Commissioner, Norman Kendall and Chief Constable Ashley. They concluded that the cab driver was crucial and put out the following statement:

  The police are anxious to trace the driver of a taxi cab, who is believed to have picked up Mrs Lloyd and a man at the corner of Air Street and Regent Street, W., about 1 o’clock in the morning of Sunday last. The cab, which came from Regent Street, drove away in the direction of Oxford Circus, and was probably dismissed at Lanark Villas. The driver is requested to communicate with Paddington Police Station (telephone, Paddington 0661) at the nearest possible moment.

  The Cab Driver’s Guild also put out a similar request in their journal. No one came forward, however, to either request, doubtless because they did not want to be mixed up in a murder inquiry.

  The adjourned inquest was concluded on 7 April. Nothing conclusive emerged from it, except to state that this was a case of murder, caused by person or persons unknown. Oddie, the Westminster coroner, later noted, of the killer, ‘No doubt he is still wandering about the West End streets carrying this dreadful secret and probably awaiting the next insane impulse to kill.’ He added, ‘it is only on the
rarest occasion that the perpetrators of these murders by unknown casual visitors to prostitutes living entirely alone can be discovered’.

  It seems clear that the killer had no personal grudge against Dora. He went in search of a prostitute and, having found Dora, went back to her lodgings with her. He proffered money (a ten shilling note) immediately. She prepared, almost at once, for sex, having removed all her clothing. Then, for whatever reason, he had a radical change of mind. Perhaps he felt a sense of moral outrage against Dora, and perhaps himself, that he could only assuage by murder. Perhaps it was unpremeditated, for he had not brought a weapon with him. Or perhaps he had a general hatred against women or prostitutes in particular. Possibly he hated one woman in particular, but was unable to kill her with impunity and therefore killed another instead. As soon as he had killed her, he left the house in a hurry, leaving behind him his gloves and the money. He was certainly an angry man, as Cornish commented, ‘It is a curiosity that he did not creep out of the house … he left noisily and walked away like a man in a furious temper, his footsteps echoing along the street.’ His identity was never established and the police never had any firm suspects. Had the cab driver come forward, he might have been able to provide more information, but even so, this probably would not have added much to that given by the women of Air Street. His name and address would still have been unknown and almost impossible to ascertain.

  CHAPTER 15

  The Croydon Mystery, 1932

  Don’t let them try and work anything on you, son

  Apart from the mysterious poisonings in Croydon in 1928–9, there was another, even more baffling, murder case which occurred in the town in the inter-war years. Mr Ellis Dagnall was a 72-year-old playwright and actor who lived in a house on Addiscombe Road, Croydon. He had starred in Who’s the Lady? at the Garrick in 1913. He employed Miss Susan Emberton, aged 56, as his housekeeper. Miss Emberton had been born in Salford in 1877, and her father had been a boat builder. In 1901 she was employed as a servant in Salford.

  Dagnall had decided to sell the property and had a sales notice put outside. He left home on Friday 18 March 1932 at 10.45 am to see his daughter, Mrs Dorothy Penley, who lived in Southampton Row, London. Although he had anticipated returning between 7.30 and 8 pm, he did not arrive home until about 9.10. He was surprised to find that the house was in darkness, because his employee was there and a light was usually on in the hallway.

  Addiscombe Road, 2008. © John Coulter

  Opening the front door, he entered the house, switched on the hallway light and found a suitcase in the hallway. He had never seen it before and it contained most of his silverware. Inside he found the place in a state of disorder. The drawers in the sideboard in the dining room had been opened and were nearly empty. Clearly, there had been an attempt at burglary, ‘I was then sure we had had burglars and rushed to the telephone in the lounge and after a little delay got through to the police.’ Two officers arrived and searched the house.

  Although the suitcase full of silver remained, other items of value had been taken. These were a small cash box with silver, a pair of gold cuff links, a diamond scarf pin and a gold watch. The total value of the goods lost was £177 and a further £15 in cash had also been taken. Descriptions of these goods were later circulated to police stations over the country. Meanwhile, the silverware which had not been taken was tested for fingerprints. None were found, save for those of Miss Emberton. As the police report noted, ‘There was therefore no clue of any description that could assist in establishing the identity of the authors of the crime.’ There was no evidence of a break-in.

  There were other clues. Mrs Penley later found, when she was tidying her father’s house, a dark-brown button in a pool of blood in the back bedroom. An ancient police truncheon was found in the house, which was a possession of Dagnall’s. This had been used to sinister result.

  Worse was to come. The unconscious body of his housekeeper, wearing her day clothes, was found lying on a bed on the first floor, and she had been hit on the head, which rested on a pillow. Dagnall declared, ‘My God. It is my poor housekeeper, Susan. They have tried to kill the poor soul.’ Dr Dorothy Day lived next door and her advice was sought. She advised removal to hospital as soon as possible. The injured woman was taken to the local hospital, where efforts were made to revive her. Dr J R Crumbie, the Resident Medical Officer, noted two head wounds; one on her crown and one in the back of her head. However, the doctors were unsuccessful and she was unable to make a statement about her attack. Miss Emberton died at Croydon Hospital on the evening of Sunday 20 March.

  The police theory, in public, was that a gang of men who were operating in the locality were responsible. They gained admission to houses by pretending to be representatives from the post office telephone service. They may have visited Dagnall’s house, perhaps using this tactic or possibly claiming to be interested in purchasing the house. There had been many callers there previously, and perhaps some had been ‘casing the joint’. The housekeeper had been given permission to show anyone who called around the place, if they seemed respectable. Apparently she was not afraid of being alone with strangers in the house. It was surmised that Miss Emberton had returned from a shopping trip and had been struck down by one of the gang, who were panic-stricken at her return. They then fled, leaving the suitcase behind.

  Windmill Road, 2008. © John Coulter

  A couple of witnesses described suspicious figures. Miss Amy Barge saw a young man at the door to the house at 5.20. Mr W H Davies saw a woman leaving the house. She was aged between 25 and 30, about five feet eight inches in height and was good looking. She looked flustered and was rushing towards East Croydon station. Yet, as we shall see, neither of these witnesses was accurate.

  One possible clue was that various papers which had been taken from the house – insurance policies, Dagnall’s will and a property deed – were found on the following day in a public toilet in Windmill Road, Croydon. This was a mile from the house and ‘situated in the worst district in Croydon where most of the local thieves reside’. It was also rumoured that a blue saloon car was used by the criminals, and indeed one had been stolen in Shoreditch on the day of the murder. Yet it was found again at 6.48 pm in Shoreditch on the same day, so this car could not have been used in Croydon two hours later.

  Dr Henry Beecher Jackson, the Croydon coroner, began the inquest on 25 March. Mrs Alice Hall, aged about 57, a widow of Stretford, Manchester, and the elder sister of the deceased, identified the corpse. Mrs Annie Brockhill of Stafford House, Upper Kensington Lane, had known Miss Emberton for between 30 and 40 years. The two had once lived together, and Miss Emberton had been her servant for 15 years. On 9 March 1932, the two had gone to the theatre and the now deceased woman had then seemed to be in good health. She was not known to have any male friends. Dagnall had employed her as housekeeper for seven or eight years. He had never known her to be in poor health. She was also able to save £108 15s 7d, which Alice Hall received after the will had been proved.

  The inquest was concluded on 8 June. Another clue was produced – the truncheon with bloodstains on it. Yet there was no proof that it had been used against the victim. Possibly she had used it against them. The thieves had shown some respect to their victim, by placing her on the bed. Although the police had made strenuous efforts to find them, they had apparently failed to discover their identity. The verdict could only be wilful murder by person or persons unknown.

  Yet the police thought that they knew who the guilty party was, though they did not disclose this to the public, because the evidence against their suspect was minimal, at best. One Mrs May had passed Dagnall’s house at five to six on the day of the assault. She saw two men being admitted to the premises. One was tall, wearing a dark waistcoat, a hat and carrying a small case. The police put much store by her evidence, claiming, ‘Mrs May seems a sensible woman and there appears to be no reason to doubt her statement.’ At six, one Mrs Overton had seen Miss Emberton at the corner of
Cherry Orchard Road, going into central Croydon to do the shopping. However, she was not known to have visited a single shop.

  One of the men was identified as Alfred Philpotts, aged 25, but already an experienced thief and a professional housebreaker, who had spent time in Oxford prison in 1931. On 28 April 1932, he was sent to Wandsworth prison for 21 months for burglary committed in Kensington and Finchley. On searching his father’s rooms, they found a small case which was Philpotts’s, and there were indentations inside it which suggested that metal objects – stolen goods – had been stored therein. Philpotts had been seen in Norbury (not too far from Croydon) on the morning of the crime by Detective Inspector Morrish and the policeman picked him out of an identity parade. Dagnall thought he had seen someone like Philpotts knocking at the door of his house two days before he was robbed, though the man he saw told him ‘It’s the wrong house’. Yet he could not pick Philpotts out from the identity parade.

  Philpotts was allegedly told by his father, ‘Don’t let them try and work anything on you, son.’ The young man was quick to assert his innocence, ‘I did not enter – Addiscombe Road, Croydon, on the night of the 18th March or on any other date. I do not know where it is.’ Furthermore, he had an explanation as to his movements on the night of the crime. Apparently he and William Baldock and another ex-convict had gone to Battersea to rob a bank messenger. This story did not convince the police, who argued, ‘It is significant that Philpotts should have an alibi on the tip of his tongue as soon as he is spoken to about this offence, and he puts up his alibi before he has taken the trouble to deny the offence.’ The police, as much as they were convinced that they had found their man, had to admit ‘There is not at the moment any real evidence against him.’