Foul Deeds and Suspicious Deaths in Reading

by John J Eddleston

  On 12 June 12 1915, Ada Cook, an unmarried domestic servant, gave birth to a healthy baby boy, who she named Stanley. For a couple of years, Ada managed to take care of the child herself. They lived with Ada’s mother but, in the autumn of 1917, Ada’s mother died and so, on 24 August 1917, when Stanley was two years old, he was taken to the house of Ann Caroline Brooker, Ada’s aunt, at 19 Foundry Street, Reading.

  The terms of the arrangement were that Ada would pay Ann Brooker four shillings per week for the child’s upkeep. This was not really a problem for Ada, because, in September 1917, she obtained employment at a factory close to Ann’s home. As a result, Ada also moved in with her aunt and increased the weekly payments to fourteen shillings to cover both her and her son.

  Ada had made a mistake by getting herself pregnant but now, slowly, she was getting on her feet. In January 1918, she moved out of her aunt’s house, leaving her son behind, and took lodgings with William and Maria Priest at 30 Castle Street, also in Reading. It seemed, at last, that life was improving for Ada Cook but then, in March, things all began to go wrong.

  It was on 10 March 1918, that Ann Brooker appeared at Ada’s new lodgings in Castle Street. She had Stanley with her and explained that he was now getting too big for her to look after. She was sorry, but Ada would have to take the child back and have him live with her. Faced with this dilemma, Ada begged Maria Priest to allow him to stay there, until she could get something more permanent sorted out. Reluctantly, Maria Priest agreed but made it plain that she was far from happy with the arrangement; a lodger was one thing but a lodger with a young child was quite another.

  In fact this new arrangement lasted all of two days. On 12 March, Maria Priest explained that she had spoken to her husband at length and decided that the boy had to go and, if Ada couldn’t make new arrangements immediately, then she would have to go too.

  At her wit’s end, Ada took Stanley back to her aunt’s house and begged her to take him back. She explained that she would be turned out of her lodgings if Ann Brooker refused the request, but Ann was adamant. She had made her decision and could not have Stanley back.

  It seemed, though, that Ada Cook did find a solution after all. When she returned to Maria Priest’s house that same evening, there was no child with her and Ada explained that she had found him a very comfortable place where he would be well looked after.

  Once again Ada’s life appeared to be improving for, on 3 April 1918, she found new employment as a domestic at the Women’s Training Colony at Cope Hall, Newbury. Further she could live in there and, it seems, was well liked by all the students and staff. At long last, her troubles all seemed to be behind her.

  Frederick Charles Watson was the resident foreman at Huntley and Palmer’s factory and lived on the premises at 2 Gasworks Road, Reading. On 7 April, he was fishing in the river Kennet when he spotted what appeared to be the body of a large dog, floating in the water. Disgusted that some vandal could just dump an animal in this way, Frederick took his boat, rowed out to the bundle and then dragged it to the shore. Once there it became clear that the bundle was not a dead dog but the body of a male child. He immediately ran for the police.

  The first officer on the scene was Constable William Kerry, who timed his arrival at 10.00am. He did not disturb the bundle but carried it to the mortuary in Bridge Street. It was there that the body was examined, by Dr Percy William House.

  The child was fully dressed with a coat placed over the face and the sleeves wrapped around and tied about the neck. A scarf had also been tied tightly over the boy’s mouth and nose, and when this was removed, Dr House found that a handkerchief had been stuffed tightly into his mouth. The post-mortem showed that death had been due to suffocation.

  The boy was identified as Stanley Cook within a very short time, due to the fact that his mother had actually been taken into custody earlier and questioned about his disappearance.

  On 25 March, Ada Cook had visited 305 Oxford Road, the home of William Bansor the local inspector for the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. She explained that she had just been to her aunt’s house in Foundry Street and tried to collect some child’s clothing. Her aunt had not believed her story that Stanley was now being looked after in a good home and demanded more details before she would hand over any of the child’s belongings. Ada had now called on Mr Bansor to ask him for a note so that she could go back and get the items belonging to her son.

  Far from being satisfied with this explanation, Mr Bansor himself demanded to know where the child was. Ada explained that she had taken Stanley to a woman in Newbury who had contacts in certain children’s homes in London. Stanley was now in one of those homes but when asked for more details, Ada was somewhat vague. As a result, Mr Banson escorted Ada to the police station for interview.

  At the station, Ada was seen by Detective Constable Charles Henderson. Here she told the same story, but claimed not to know the name of the woman in Newbury, or the address of the home in London. As a result, Ada appeared in court two days later, on 27 March, on a charge of child abandonment. She was remanded to 3 April but on that date, as no evidence was offered, was discharged.

  To be absolutely sure that the child found in the Kennet was actually Stanley, Ann Brooker was taken to the Bridge Street mortuary to view the body. She positively identified the child as Stanley and so, on that same day, 7 April, Ada Cook was arrested at the Women’s Training Colony by Constable Henderson.

  Ada faced her trial for murder, at Reading, on 4 June 1918. The presiding judge was Mr Justice Lawrence and the case for the Crown was outlined by Mr HJ Farrant. Ada’s defence rested in the hands of Mr McKenna.

  In addition to the witnesses already referred to, the prosecution called Frederick Durston Whitcombe, a senior warder at Reading prison. He told the court that he was in Forbury Road at around 6.25pm on 12 March and, as he passed over Plates Bridge, he saw a woman with a child. He noticed them in particular because they were walking down the tow path towards the river and he thought it strange that an unaccompanied woman should be in such a place at that time.

  Whitcombe watched as the woman turned towards Addis Square and in all, he observed her for some fifty yards. On 8 April, he attended an identity parade of nine women and without hesitation picked out Ada Cook as the woman he had seen. The defence tried their best to discredit Whitcombe’s testimony, stating that it was dark in that area and there were large trees overhanging the tow path but they failed to shake him in any way.

  It was no surprise when the jury announced their verdict; Ada was guilty of the murder of her son. She was then sentenced to death and moved to Oxford prison to await execution.

  An appeal was entered and this was heard on 24 June 1918, by Mr Justice Bray, Mr Justice Darling and Mr Justice Coleridge. Much was made of the state of mind of the prisoner at the time she committed this awful crime, but the judges were not to be moved and the death sentence was confirmed.

  Ada Cook did not hang, however. Her sentence was commuted to one of life imprisonment and she was taken from the condemned cell at Oxford and moved to Liverpool to serve out her sentence.

  Every single year, Ada petitioned the Home Office for her release. She admitted that she had done a terrible thing, but had been driven to it out of sheer desperation. She was truly sorry for what she had done and wished to rebuild her life as soon as she possibly could.

  Mr Justice Darling, one of the Appeal Court judges who confirmed Ada Cook’s death sentence. Author’s Collection

  By 1921, the authorities had decided that there should be a minimum tariff in this case of ten years’ imprisonment. However, Ada was told that she could be released on licence after six and two-thirds years, providing she behaved herself whilst in custody.

  Ada did indeed prove to be a model prisoner and by 1923, she was being prepared for release. There was however one problem, not made public at the time but certainly mentioned in the various Home Office and prison authority communications. It was believed
that the father of Ada’s child was none other than her own father, a drunken brute of a man with many convictions for assault. He was now living in Henley and the authorities were determined that Ada should not return to his care.

  Eventually, a place was found for Ada and on 13 May 1923, she was released on licence. She took a position as a domestic servant in one of the Thompson’s Homes at 4 Liverpool Street, King’s Cross, London. Finally she could start to rebuild her life.

  CHAPTER 5

  Avoiding the Noose Edith Agnes Loader 1919

  On 29 March 1918, twenty-six-year-old Edith Loader gave birth to a child, a girl, at her married sister’s house in Oxted. The child was named Maisie Clough Loader, the middle name of the baby being a clue to the identity of her father.

  In 1917, Edith had been living with her mother in Manchester. Another lodger at the house had been a Staff Sergeant named Clough, and Edith and he had started walking out together. In due course, Edith had discovered that she was pregnant, but by now, Clough had left Manchester and all attempts to trace him had failed. It was to avoid a scandal that Edith had then travelled to the home of Florence Louisa Turner, her sister, for the latter part of the confinement.

  After the birth, mother and child both stayed with Florence Turner until 25 April. On that date, Edith left Florence’s home but couldn’t return to her mother’s house because, in the meantime, that lady had died. Instead, Edith went to live with another married sister, Mrs Reid. Little Maisie was left with Florence Turner and her husband. That arrangement did not last long, however, for in July 1918, Edith collected her four-month-old daughter and moved down to Reading in order to make a fresh start.

  Edith and Maisie had no home to actually go to in Reading and that was why they eventually fell upon the mercy of the Salvation Army. Maria Goodyer was the caretaker for the Army at 123 Queen’s Road, Reading, and she first met Edith on 9 October, when she called and asked to speak to one of the officers. Unfortunately, all of the officers were away at the time and there was therefore no-one to help Edith or offer her any advice.

  Maria next saw Edith on 13 October when they met, by arrangement in, of all places, the local cemetery. After listening to Edith’s story, Maria took the mother and child back to Queen’s Road. They were allowed board and lodgings and, in return, Edith did whatever work Maria asked of her. For a time at least, things seemed to be progressing well and by all accounts, Edith appeared to be a most devoted mother.

  The problem was that with a young baby to take care of, Edith could not find real work for herself and so, in turn, was unable to establish a proper new life. The solution, obviously, was to find a home for Maisie in order that Edith could make a proper career for herself.

  A temporary solution presented itself in mid-October when Edith was able to leave the child with Miss Margaret Esther Payne, the Superintendent of the East Reading Day Nursery, but this only lasted for three days, from 18 October until 21 October. After that time, Edith asked if she could leave Maisie there permanently but was told that this was not possible.

  Maria Goodyer knew very well that Edith was trying to find a permanent home for the baby and was somewhat relieved when, on 21 October, Edith left the Salvation Army Home with Maisie but returned that evening without her. Edith informed Maria that she had, at last, found a foster mother to take permanent care of the little girl. Asked for further details, Edith told Maria that Maisie was with a Mrs Page who lived in Chumleigh Road.

  Free of the burden of the baby, Edith now began to improve her life. Two days after Maisie had been placed with Mrs Page, Edith obtained employment as a domestic servant with a nurse, Anne Marie Barker, and moved in to her house on 23 October. At last, Edith was getting on her feet.

  It was on 9 November that James Midwinter, a gardener living in Henley-on-Thames, found the body of a little girl floating in the river near Shiplake Lock at Wargrave. The child was wearing a blue spotted frock, a blue striped petticoat, a white petticoat underneath, a lace pinafore, a flannel chemise and woollen leggings, knickers and bonnet.

  Midwinter ran for the police and the first officer on the scene was Constable Ernest Thatcher, who collected the body and took it to the mortuary. A post-mortem was carried out by Dr FC Young, who confirmed that the cause of death was drowning. The problem now was identifying the poor child.

  As a matter of routine, all women who were known to have young children were spoken to. This was the reason that caused Sergeant James Pierce to call at Miss Barker’s house on 16 November. Edith was spoken to and asked what had happened to her child. She again told the story of Maisie being placed with Mrs Page, but when Sergeant Pierce went to check he found that not only was there no trace of Maisie, but there was no trace of a Mrs Page either. That same day, Edith was taken into custody but she was not held in jail or even in the police cells. Instead, Edith was given over to the care of Elizabeth Haddrell, the wife of Inspector Haddrell who was based at Wokingham.

  The investigation continued and any establishments that might possibly deal with young children were spoken too and that included the Salvation Army at Reading. Maria Goodyer thought that the description of the clothing might well match items which she had seen Maisie Loader dressed in. Three days after the child’s body had been found, the tragic bundle had been buried in Wargrave churchyard but the baby was now exhumed and, on 27 November, Maria viewed the body and made a positive identification. The child found at Wargrave was indeed Maisie Loader and Edith was then charged with murder.

  Edith Loader appeared to face the charge, at Reading before Mr Justice Rowlatt, on 15 January 1919. The case for the prosecution rested in the hands of Mr Jordan whilst Edith was defended by Mr Snagge.

  There really was little hope for the defence since Edith had confessed her guilt to two people. The first of these was Mrs Haddrell, the wife of the police inspector. Whilst Edith was in her care she had said:

  I was driven by desperation to do it. I went down to the river two or three times to do it and the third time I laid my baby in the river.

  I kissed her. Then I realised what I had done and I tried to reach her but could not, the stream having washed her too far away. I loved my baby very much indeed. I am very sorry for what I have done.

  Edith had also confessed to Sergeant Pierce, whilst being interviewed by him. She said to him: ‘I have done it in desperation. I was desperate at the time. I put it in the water two days before I came here, down by the ice factory. I have been sorry ever since I done it.’

  The jury had little trouble in adjudging Edith to be guilty of murder but they did add a strong recommendation to mercy. After all, everyone had said that she was a most loving mother and she had apparently been driven to this out of desperation. The law, however, only allowed for one possible sentence and the judge donned the black cap and sentenced Edith to death by hanging. She was then sent to Oxford prison to await her fate.

  The very next day, 16 January, Mr Justice Rowlatt presided over another murder trial at the same Reading assizes. Joseph Rose was accused of killing his girlfriend, Sarah Rose, who also happened to be his cousin, and their five-month-old daughter, Isabella, by cutting their throats near Newbury. He too was found guilty and sentenced to death and he too was sent to Oxford to await his fate.

  On Wednesday 19 February, Joseph Rose was hanged at Oxford by John Ellis and Edward Taylor. Edith Loader, however, managed to avoid the hangman’s noose as her sentence was commuted to life imprisonment, just five days after her trial, on 20 January 1919 and she was transferred to Liverpool to serve out her sentence.

  Although Edith should have served a long prison term, the authorities did look upon her with mercy. She only served a little more than four years, being released on licence on 18 April 1923. She would never forget the child she had loved so much.

  CHAPTER 6

  A Gentleman of the Theatre The Murder of Alfred Oliver 1929

  Alfred Oliver had not had the happiest of lives. His first wife had drowned herself after the d
eath of their only child, but things had begun to improve for him when he met and married his second wife, Annie Elizabeth, in 1920. The couple lived a quiet enough life and friends would say that they were deliriously happy together. Now, in 1929, Alfred ran his tobacconist’s shop from 15 Cross Street, Reading, whilst his wife ran a corsetiere business from the house at the back.

  At around 5.00pm on Saturday 22 June 1929, Alfred went into the dining room behind the shop, with Annie, for his evening meal. After they had finished, Annie Elizabeth took over in the shop whilst Alfred cleared the crockery away and, during the next twenty-five minutes or so, served six male customers.

  Once he had finished, Alfred returned to his duties behind the shop counter whilst his wife went upstairs. It was then some five or ten minutes before 6.00pm, and soon afterwards, Annie heard the clock strike six.

  It was about then that Annie took the dog through the yard at the back of the shop, and took it for a short walk. She was gone for perhaps fifteen minutes, during which she heard no sounds of any disturbance. It was around 6.15pm when she went back inside.

  The shop in Cross Street, Reading, where Alfred Oliver was attacked. Author’s Collection

  Annie called out for her husband, but there was no reply. She noticed that the door, which separated the shop from the dining room, was closed. That was strange, for Alfred always kept the door open in the summer. Annie pushed the door open and saw Alfred, sitting with his back to the shop fittings. Alfred held a handkerchief to his mouth and a pool of blood lay on the floor nearby, with a pair of broken false teeth resting in the crimson liquid. To the left, Annie saw a pair of broken glasses and part of a set of scales, which were normally kept on the counter. Alfred was obviously hurt but when Annie asked him what had happened, he could only reply: ‘I don’t know, darling.’