Yours to a cinder,
Alice
Roberts noticed similarities between the letter and the postcard. Both were written in indelible pencil by the same hand and both contained the same misspelling of Phyllis. The letter was burnt, presumably because it was signed by a man and would be a dangerous item to leave lying around. The postcard was returned to the chest of drawers, presumably to add to the collection. The signature of Alice made it harmless.
The charred remains of the letter were found in the grate but the postcard did not come to light until Shaw, on packing up to leave the apartment, found it under a sheet of newspaper lining one of the drawers. Roberts identified it as the one he had seen on the Wednesday morning.
Owing to the nature of the crime and the mysterious circumstances in which it was committed the case received wide publicity while the investigation was going on. A leading article in the Daily Chronicle reflects one aspect of public opinion:
To the moralist and every serious-minded citizen who considers the state of society, how terrible are the sidelights which the case throws on life in London. Of scandals in high life we often hear much, and the publicity which they attract is perhaps out of proportion to their proper dimensions. Here we have the limelight thrown on scandals in low life and it is a saddening and sickening spectacle that is revealed. How awful is the picture of the murdered woman—“the lowest of the low” as she is called—passing at the end of the week as the wife of one man and for the rest of it consorting promiscuously, ending with her throat cut by some stray companion. Englishmen are proud of their civilizing mission in the dark countries of the world. We are not among those who would ridicule or discourage such work, but is there not some civilizing to be done nearer home? There are savages, as we call them, who would be ashamed to live the life that is led by some in Camden Town.
Despite this editorial exhortation it would seem that things have changed little in this neighbourhood in the last sixty years. It is not long since the murder of a newspaper reporter by a gang of louts on the fringe of Camden Town.
The most important clue so far was the postcard with the sketch of the rising sun, but it did not go far towards solving the mystery, since there was no means of identifying the writer. The Commissioner of Police enlisted the cooperation of the Press in this matter. In the album found in Dimmock’s bedroom were other postcards written in the same handwriting and it was obvious that the writer had been a regular associate of the dead girl. The postcards, four in all, were circulated to the Press. The News of the World was quick to take advantage of this circulation booster. This newspaper used a facsimile of the Rising Sun card over the bold caption: “Do you recognize this handwriting?” A reward of £100 was offered for information.
Among the readers of this popular Sunday paper was a young woman named Ruby Young. She called herself an artist’s model but in fact followed the same profession as Emily Dimmock, though possibly in a somewhat higher class. She recognized the handwriting on the postcard and wrote a letter to the newspaper attaching the cutting. But she never posted it. That same evening she had a visitor, a young artist and an ex-lover of hers whose name was Robert Wood.
Wood was in a responsible position as an artist-engraver in the glass works of Messrs J. R. Carson of Holborn. His father was a Scot who had worked for a quarter of a century as a compositor on the Scotsman. Wood’s boyhood was normal and unremarkable save for the marked artistic talent that he showed at an early age and which was encouraged at the church school he attended. When he grew up he took a job as an assistant steward at the Medical Students Club in Chancery Lane where he was frequently asked to draw medical diagrams and copy illustrations from technical papers. When the club was disbanded owing to financial losses Robert Wood went to Carson’s and rose steadily in the firm. His character was excellent. He was good-natured and kind-hearted and everybody liked him. His work attracted the attention of the great William Morris who gave him personal encouragement and advice.
But Wood had a weakness for low company. His friendship with Ruby Young had developed into a love affair. He apparently had no objection to the girl’s mode of life which was continued after they became lovers. Ruby at one time lived quite near his home at King’s Cross but moved with her mother to Earl’s Court. Wood found the journey somewhat tiresome and began to meet her less frequently. The break in their relations came when Ruby heard that he was associating with other women. In July they had a serious quarrel. Their next meeting was a chance one in the street in August after Wood had returned from a holiday in Belgium. After this casual encounter they made no further arrangements to meet. But on Friday, 20 September, a week after the murder of Emily Dimmock, Ruby received a telegram from Wood asking her to meet him at the Phit-Eesie shop in Southampton Row. This had been their former rendezvous. Ruby kept the appointment. Directly they met, and almost before they had exchanged greetings, Wood said, “Ruby, I want you to help me. If any questions are ever asked you by anyone, will you say that you always saw me on Monday and Wednesday nights?”
This was an odd request to make from a girl who had been treated somewhat shabbily. Ruby was justifiably curious and a little annoyed, particularly since he refused to give her any explanation. However after a good deal of argument she consented to the request and they parted. Wood next called on a friend of his who was employed by a bookseller in Charing Cross Road. This man, whose name was Lambert, had been in the Eagle public house opposite Camden Town Station on the Wednesday before the murder. He had seen Wood there accompanied by a young woman with her hair in curling pins who apologized for her untidiness, saying she had “just run out”. When Lambert inquired what had brought him to a public house he did not normally visit Wood replied that he had business to attend to. When Lambert left Wood had remained behind with the girl.
Lambert now guessed that the girl must have been Emily Dimmock and this was confirmed when the purpose of Wood’s visit to the bookshop emerged. Wood had come to ask him to say, if questioned, that they had had a drink together but not to mention the girl. “I can clear myself,” he said, “but I don’t want it to come to my father’s ears.”
During the following week Wood took Ruby to a theatre and on the way home reminded her of the promise she had given him: “Don’t forget now. Mondays and Wednesdays.”
There were further meetings and a lot of discussion before they finally concocted a plan. Ruby Young said: “The best thing for me to do is to say that I met you at six-thirty at Phit-Eesie’s and we had tea at Lyons’ Café, and after tea we went down Kingsway to the Strand and on to Hyde Park Corner. Then we’d better say we walked along the Park out to Brompton Oratory and got there at half past ten. We’ll say that we parted there and that you went back by tube to King’s Cross and got home before midnight.” Wood agreed to this whole-heartedly.
They met several times during the ensuing week and each time Wood reminded Ruby of her promise. She was by now getting thoroughly irritated as well as worried and she repeated that she would keep her word. “But don’t keep bothering me. It’s getting on my nerves.”
Ruby Young was a most unsuitable ally in a cloak and dagger plan of this sort, for she could not keep a secret. She confided her worries to a girl friend. The friend repeated the story in confidence to a reporter on the Weekly Dispatch. The newspaper informed Scotland Yard and Inspector Neill, who was in charge of the case, was sent to interview Ruby Young. The outcome was that she went to meet Robert Wood with the Inspector in attendance and as she shook hands with her former lover he was taken into custody. After an identification parade on 5 October, when he was identified by a number of people as having been seen in the Eagle on the night of the murder in Emily Dimmock’s company, he was formally charged with her murder.
From the time of his first talk with Arthur Newton after delivery of the brief, Marshall Hall was convinced of Robert Wood’s innocence. But the task of formulating a defence in the face of Wood’s tissue of lies about his whereabouts on the nig
ht of the crime needed all his ingenuity and the painstaking assistance of his colleague Wellesley Orr.
Marshall was well aware that a great deal hung upon the outcome of this case not only for his client but for himself. It was the most important criminal trial that had come his way since his fortunes began to mend. He needed to test his newly restored confidence in an arena lit by the full glare of publicity and he was determined to make the utmost of this opportunity.
Not least among the many difficulties with which he had to contend was Wood’s peculiar behaviour. Marshall formed the opinion that he had a dual personality. He was certainly abnormal in one respect for he seemed unable to comprehend the appalling situation he was in. Wellesley Orr considered that the evidence of the ship’s cook was of great importance. He also felt that Wood must be called in his own defence. Marshall Hall opposed this, believing that because of his obvious abnormality he would make an unreliable witness. But Orr insisted that if Wood were not called he would certainly hang. Marshall had still some lingering doubt as to whether he could, or should, trust his own judgment and allowed himself to be overruled. Accordingly the form of declaration he customarily used in such eventualities was sent to Wood who signed it, thereby giving his consent to be called.
The trial opened at the rebuilt Central Criminal Court on Thursday, 12 December, before Mr Justice Grantham. Sir Charles Mathews, K.C. appeared for the prosecution assisted by Archibald Bodkin and L. A. Symmons. Marshall Hall led for the defence with Herman Cohen, Huntly Jenkins and J. R. Lort-Williams.
Marshall had had few cases which looked more hopeless at the start. He had also had few which offered more scope for his particular brand of shrewd, lucid and hardhitting advocacy. He did not make the mistake which a lesser man might have done. He did not say, “Wood must be innocent because X is guilty.” He maintained throughout the trial that there was insufficient evidence to convict anyone. He was thus absolved from defending one man by accusing another and in consequence had a freer hand.
Mathews opened quietly and reasonably, making the most of Wood’s futile efforts to cover up his association with the dead woman. The main point he brought out was the similarity of the handwriting on the Rising Sun postcard and the charred letter found in Dimmock’s room. If the evidence of Roberts was to be believed Wood had arranged to meet Emily at the Eagle on the night she was murdered. The curling pins seen in her hair on the Wednesday night were still there when her body was found. The inference was that Wood intended to kill her either on Wednesday evening or Thursday morning and arranged to meet her at a place where he was unlikely to be recognized. The hair curlers indicated that she was going to meet someone she knew very well. The Crown also relied on the evidence of another witness, McCowan, who said he had seen Wood in the area of St Paul’s Road at the time when, according to the medical evidence, the crime had been committed. Mathews stressed the importance of this evidence. At the identity parade the witness had unhesitatingly picked out Wood by his walk. Corroboration of the fact that Wood walked with a nervous jerk or twitch of the shoulder came from Ruby Young.
Mathews gradually built up his case into a formidable indictment against Robert Wood. The state of the apartment, he said, when the murder was discovered showed that Wood had gone to considerable lengths to find and destroy the Rising Sun postcard. The shutters had been half opened to admit light. Why had the murderer wasted valuable time looking through the postcard album unless it contained something of an incriminating nature? The articles which were missing had obviously been taken to provide a robbery motive for the crime; but if robbery was indeed the motive why had more valuable articles been left behind?
The case against Wood, although circumstantial, was strong. Great care in the handling of the defence was needed. Marshall Hall scored his first point when dealing with the street plan prepared by Sergeant Grosse. The inference to be drawn from this plan was that St Paul’s Road was in a brilliantly lit area. Under cross-examination the sergeant admitted that the street lights were extinguished at four thirty-seven a.m. Marshall saw the opportunity he needed and asked:
“If that is so, they would be useless for lighting purposes at five minutes to five?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think this is a fair plan?”
“I do.”
“I put it to you, have you ever seen a more misleading plan in your life?” No answer.
“Would not anybody, looking at this plan, come to the conclusion that the light was reflected upon the front of 29 St Paul’s Road?”
“Not on the front of the house, but in the neighbourhood.”
“You know the electric standard lights were extinguished at four thirty-seven on the morning of 12 September?”
“Yes.”
“You know it was a dark, muggy morning. If the electric standards were extinguished at that time they would be useless for any purpose of light at five to five?”
“Yes.”
“Is it not the case that, this being so, you have been specially asked to prepare a map that would show, as your evidence suggests, a sufficiency of light coming from the railway cutting forty feet below the road?” No reply.
“If it was a drizzly, thick, muggy morning, the refracting and reflecting power of the arc lights would be at a minimum, would they not?”
“Yes.”
“Is there, at the railway bridge, a wall nine feet high? High enough to prevent me, for instance, from seeing over?”
“Yes.”
“Is that wall shown on the map?”
“No, it was not necessary.”
By this forceful questioning Marshall Hall was able to cast doubt on the veracity of the police in relation to the street lighting at the time Wood was said to have been seen in St Paul’s Road. His purpose was to challenge the identification of Wood by other witnesses, and it was a move both shrewd and subtle.
Much has been written about Marshall’s talent as an orator. But less attention has been paid to his ability to elicit by clever questioning the priorities in a line of reasoning. He was faced with the fact that no other suspect in the case had both the means and the opportunity to commit the crime. He had to break one by one the links in the chain of evidence against his client.
Roberts, the ship’s cook, was the next witness. In his cross-examination it is fascinating to see how the man is manoeuvred into a difficult position and forced to admit that he might have invented his story.
“Do you know a woman named May Campbell?”
“By sight, yes.”
“Have you ever spoken to her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you talk about the case?”
“It was talked of all over the place.”
“Did May Campbell give you a description of someone who, she said, was known as a friend of Dimmock?”
“Yes.”
“And did that description correspond very much with the description of the accused?”
“It tallied very much.”
“So you could have picked him out from May Campbell’s description?”
“Not unless I knew him.”
“Was the description, published in the newspapers on 22 September of the man who was wanted, and which was described as official, very like the description Campbell gave you?”
“Yes.”
“Was the description: ‘Age twenty-eight to thirty. Height five feet seven inches. Sallow complexion. Dark hair. Clean shaven. Peculiar difference about eyes’?”
“Something like it.”
“Almost word for word, was it not?”
“Yes.”
“Did she add: ‘Pimples on lower part of face and neck’?”
“She said something about pimples. Pimples do not always stay there.”
“Do not argue. Were you not in a great fright when you heard of the murder?”
“No, I was not in any fright.”
“When you heard of the murder did you realize that except for the murderer—”
“That I was next to him.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, I realized that. That is why I stopped at the Rising Sun when I heard of the murder. I said I would stop all night until the police came.”
Having strengthened his attack on the question of identification by suggesting that Roberts and May Campbell had acted in collusion Marshall turned to the charred letter Roberts claimed to have read.
“How could anybody writing that on the Tuesday write ‘tonight’ for Wednesday?”
“You generally write that way to let a person know.”
“Do you usually, when writing on a Tuesday to make an appointment for a Wednesday, write ‘Meet me tonight’?”
“I do not.”
“I put it to you that that piece of burned paper is a fragment which might have come from anywhere and which never came through the post.”
“It did.”
“Where did the name ‘Bert’ come from?”
“I tell you it was written.”
“If the object had been to put suspicion on Shaw, the suggestion would have been very useful?” No answer.
At this point Sir Charles Mathews interrupted to ask if Marshall Hall were accusing Roberts of the murder.
“Most certainly I am not,” said Marshall.
The second day of the trial produced further proof that Marshall had fully regained his skill in cross-examination. Confidently and ruthlessly he discredited three of the Crown’s witnesses by making them so confused that the evidence they gave was worthless. One of these was the man McCowan, on whose statement that he had seen Wood coming out of 29 St Paul’s Road on the morning of the murder the prosecution placed great reliance.
With Ruby Young Marshall dealt more gently. She had incurred general resentment by her betrayal of Wood for, it was alleged, the reward offered by the News of the World.
“Have you ever thought that, having regard to the evidence of Doctor Thompson who places the time of the murder at three or four in the morning, the alibi arranged with you from six-thirty to ten-thirty on the evening previous to the murder would be a useless alibi for the murder but a perfect one for the meeting of the girl?”
The Mammoth Book of Unsolved Crimes Page 68