Foul Deeds in Kensington and Chelsea

by John J Eddleston

  They discussed going to see a film and she had told him that she wanted to see one called Manhattan Melodrama. He agreed, but first they went for a walk to the Portobello market, where he bought her some grapes, before they went on to the Blue Hall cimema, back in Edgware Road. They bought two shilling circle seats and, like almost everything else that day, Harvey paid with a handful of silver coins.

  At one stage, just after the film had started, Harvey excused himself, saying that he needed to use the toilet. He was gone for quite a long time and, when he returned to his seat, he immediately made it clear that he didn’t like the film. Despite her protestations, he insisted they leave the cinema immediately.

  From there, they went to a public house, Finch’s, on the corner of Elgin Road and Portobello Road. Yet again more coins were brought out and at one stage Harvey asked the barman to change three shillings worth of coppers for him. They then went back to Clara’s house and spent the night together. Clara woke up a number of times that night and each time she found that Harvey was sitting up in bed, smoking. He said he couldn’t sleep and had something on his mind.

  The next morning, they were both up at 6.00am. Harvey counted what money he had left and handed Clara a bloodstained postal order for 1/6d. He said that he had accepted it as payment for a bet he had taken. As he counted his money, Clara saw that he still had lots of small change and, curiously, a French 25 centime piece. He also had a key, which he said was to his large house in Wembley. He gave this to Clara for safekeeping, saying that he might lose it.

  Later that day, Harvey bought a copy of the Evening Standard and mentioned that there had been a murder in the workhouse in Chelsea. That night they went to the Metropolitan Theatre, to watch a show, and then returned to Clara’s house once again for the night.

  The following morning, 27 October, Harvey admitted to Clara that he had been the man who had committed the murder. She was so shocked, that she fainted. When she came round, she begged him to go to the police, and said she would go with him if it helped. They decided to go to Hyde Park to talk things through and it was there that Harvey told Clara that if she went to the police he would kill her and then would kill himself. He added, ‘They won’t catch me alive.’ She was terrified of what he would do and, after talking for hours, she agreed to go off on her own but said she would go back and meet him in the park at midnight. Instead she went straight home and bolted the door. She went to the police herself, the next day, not knowing that Harvey had already handed himself in.

  Only three more witnesses were needed to tie up all the loose ends. Henry John Clarke worked at the Blue Hall cinema and he confirmed that he had found a bloodstained shirt in the gentlemen’s toilets, on 26 October. The shirt bore the number B/132.

  Walter Blanchett was another of the inmates at the institute, and he said that on 21 October, he had received a 1/6d postal order from his sister. He had given this to George Hamblin on 23 October, to cover a bet of 9d each way on a horse. Finally, yet another inmate, Charles Bushell, told the court that he knew that Hamblin kept a French 25 centime piece, as a good luck charm.

  Giving his own testimony, Harvey claimed that the coins, which he had spent, had all been earned by him from selling cups of tea to the other inmates at a few pence a time. He went on to say that Hamblin had confided in him that he was being blackmailed. At one stage Hamblin had showed him a curious note which read, ‘Yes, 13, Yes’, but he would not say what it meant. However, none of this explained the bloodstained shirt, or his confession to Clara Barnes. The jury were far from satisfied and returned the expected guilty verdict. An appeal was entered and heard on 25 February, before Justices Avory, MacKinnon and Greaves-Lord. They found no reason to overrule the trial verdict and the appeal was consequently dismissed, and the death sentence confirmed.

  At his trial, Harvey had revealed that this was not his real name. He claimed that he didn’t want his family to know the trouble he was in, or that he had been living in poverty at the institute. It transpired that there were other things he had not wanted his family to know, including the fact that he had four previous convictions, all for stealing, and had served two terms of imprisonment, the last being a six months’ sentence on 22 October 1929.

  On Wednesday, 13 March 1935, thirty-seven-year-old George Frank Harvey was hanged at Pentonville by Robert Baxter and Henry Pollard. Only now did the authorities reveal that his real name had been Charles Malcolm Lake.

  Chapter 30

  Harold Dorian Trevor

  1942

  Sixty-five-year-old Theodora Jessie Greenhall had lived in her flat at 71a Elsham Road, West Kensington, for some years, but now, in 1941, she was growing rather concerned about the German bombing of the capital. For her own peace of mind, she decided to move out of London and rent out her flat. With that in mind, in the autumn of that year, she contacted a local estate agent, Sladden, Stuart and Powell, of Royal Crescent.

  On Monday, 13 October, the agent sent around a well-dressed and very polite gentleman who viewed the flat and said he was very interested in taking it. He arranged to call again, at 11.00am the following morning, for a second viewing.

  On Tuesday, 14 October, the tall, distinguished man, with greying hair, did call again as he had promised. He even sported a monocle and, having been shown around the flat for a second time, said that he had fallen in love with it so much, that he would take it on the spot.

  A few pounds were handed over as a deposit against the first month’s rent, in order to fasten the deal and Mrs Greenhall then sat down at her bureau, in the drawing room, to write a receipt. She began, ‘Received from Dr HD Trevor, the sum of ….’

  The receipt was never finished for, as she wrote, the prospective tenant struck Mrs Greenhall over the head with a beer bottle. The bottle shattered into pieces, one large piece falling into a nearby waste-paper basket. Mrs Greenhall fell to the floor, unconscious, whereupon her ‘tenant’ fell upon her and strangled her to death with a ligature. He then ransacked the house, taking jewellery, money from a cash-box and some other items of value. As a final gesture, he placed a handkerchief over his victim’s face.

  Mrs Greenhall’s body was discovered later that same day when her daughter from her first marriage, Miss Tattersall, paid her a visit. She called in the police and the case was put into the capable hands of Detective Chief Inspector Salisbury. He immediately called in the assistance of Scotland Yard and Detective Chief Superintendent Frederick Cherrell was sent to Kensington to assist.

  Within a very short time indeed, Cherrell had all but solved the case, though he could not believe that the killer could have been so stupid. The partly completed receipt still lay upon the writing bureau and Cherrell read the name HD Trevor with interest. He knew of a petty criminal named Harold Dorian Trevor, who had spent most of the last forty years inside various prisons. In fact, sixty-two-year-old Trevor had only been free for a total of about eleven months, in the last forty years.

  Trevor’s prison career had started back in 1899. On 21 October of that year he had been sentenced to eighteen months in prison for stealing a dressing case. Eight other prison sentences followed, including one of five years in May 1905, one of seven years in July 1914 and one of ten years in August 1925. All had been for theft, larceny, stealing or false pretences. His last period of incarceration had started on 27 April 1936 when he received five years for larceny and receiving stolen goods.

  Cherrell found it hard to believe that a killer would use his real name and then leave such incriminating evidence at the scene, so it was important that he check things out. He sent an officer to fetch Trevor’s file and check up on his present whereabouts. As he waited, other officers found fingerprints on some of the broken glass, on a table top, and on the cash box.

  Trevor’s file duly arrived and, with the aid of a magnifying glass, Cherrell compared the fingerprints found at the murder scene, to those held on file. They were a perfect match, proving that the man who had leaned against that table, wielded the bot
tle and rifled the cash-box, was Harold Dorian Trevor. Further checks showed that Trevor had only finished his latest jail sentence a few days previously. In fact, he had been released from Parkhurst prison on 3 October, just eleven days before Mrs Greenhall had been killed. Finally, when the estate agent was spoken to, he confirmed that an appointment to view had been made in the name of Dr HD Trevor, of Devon. The hunt was on for the wanted man.

  In fact, it soon became clear that Trevor had started on yet another of his crime sprees. The police soon discovered that on 9 October, Trevor had visited another estate agents, Harrods, of 62 Brompton Road. They had given him details of a flat at 8 Sloane Street and he had called there to see the owner, Beatrice Mary Haydock, that same day. At one stage she had left Trevor alone in one of the rooms and he had repaid her trust by stealing her handbag.

  A check with the other estate agents in Royal Crescent, showed that Trevor had been given four addresses. In addition to the one at 71a Elsham Road, they had also given him details of properties at 42 Holland Road, 6 Norland Square and 9 St James Gardens. The owners of those properties were interviewed and all confirmed that Trevor had called on them on 13 October. His first visit, at 4.00pm, had been to St James Gardens, where he had agreed to take the flat but had not paid any deposit. At 5.15pm, he had visited Norland Square and less than an hour later, at approximately 6.00pm, he had visited Holland Road.

  Back at Elsham Road, Mrs Tattersall was able to give the police details of the jewellery stolen from the house and the descriptions of the various pieces were circulated throughout the country. This tactic led police in Birmingham to report that two rings on the stolen list had been sold to a jeweller in that city. Trevor, it seemed, was moving north. Other pieces were traced to other shops, with the final piece being sold in Rhyl. Police in that town were told to be on the look-out for Trevor and this led to his arrest, on Saturday, 18 October, as he left a public telephone box.

  Charged with murder, Trevor replied, ‘It wasn’t murder. There was never any intent to murder. I have never used violence on anyone in my life before. What came over me I do not know. After I hit her, my mind went completely blank and it is still like that now. Something seemed to crack in my head.’

  Trevor’s trial for murder opened at the Old Bailey, before Mr Justice Asquith, on 28 January 1942. During the two days of the hearing, Trevor was defended by Mr John Flowers and Mr Derek Curtis Bennett. The case for the Crown lay in the hands of Mr L A Byrne.

  With the cast-iron evidence found at the murder scene, the defence did not try to deny that Trevor had claimed the life of Mrs Greenhall, but tried to persuade the jury that he must have been insane at the time of the attack. It was true that Trevor had an incredibly long criminal record, but all his previous offences had involved simple fraud and theft. He had never used violence before and its use in this case was completely out of character. The jury, however, chose to believe that Trevor was perfectly sane and, therefore, guilty of murder.

  Asked if he had anything to say before the sentence of death was passed, Trevor made a long, rather flowery speech which, in part, said:

  I would like, once and for all, to say this: that I, as a man who stands, so to speak, at death’s door, would like to confirm all I have already said, regarding this lady’s death. I have no knowledge of it.

  Even as I am speaking, the moving finger is writing on the wall, and the words, once written, can never be recalled. I sincerely hope that each of you, gentlemen of the jury, and the judge too, in passing sentence, will remember these words. That when each of you, as you surely must some day, yourself stand before a higher tribunal, you will receive a greater measure of mercy than had been meted out to me in this world. No fear touches my heart. My heart is dead. It died when my mother left me.

  Having finished his diatribe, Trevor was then sentenced to death by hanging.

  An appeal was heard on 23 February, before Justices Humphreys, Singleton and Cassells, but they saw no reason to interfere with either the verdict or the death sentence. There was to be no reprieve and, on Wednesday, 11 March 1942, Harold Dorian Trevor was hanged at Wandsworth by Albert Pierrepoint, who was assisted by Herbert Morris. The forty-year crime spree was finally over.

  Chapter 31

  George Cyril Epton

  1946

  Albert Edward Stamp lived at 7 Billing Road, Kensington and, at 5.45am, on the morning of Monday, 6 May 1946, was on his way to work. Following his usual route, at one stage Albert walked down Finborough Road, and what he found there meant that he would certainly be late for work on this occasion.

  Each of the houses down this street had steps leading up to the front door, with another set leading down to the basement. On the steps outside number 17, Albert found the body of a young woman. Her legs were on the top step and her head hung downwards, towards the basement. It seemed likely that she had fallen from one of the flats at 17 Finborough Road, and Albert could not help but notice that she wore no shoes. It was obvious that the woman was dead, but, rather surprisingly perhaps, Albert did not report the matter to the police. Instead, he found the nearest public telephone box and reported his find to St Stephen’s Hospital.

  It was the hospital who contacted the police and, at approximately 6.40am, Detective Inspector Albert Webb arrived to take charge of the scene. Looking up at the house it seemed that the most likely point of exit for the woman had been the flat on the first floor. This flat had a small balcony, directly overlooking the spot where the woman’s body lay. It was probably the best place to start.

  Webb walked into the house and went up to the first floor. The door was opened by a man, who greeted Webb with, ‘I suppose you have come about the murder.’ No mention of murder had been made and, indeed, the police were still not sure that this was a case of murder. ‘What murder?’ replied Webb. ‘The one outside,’ said the man. Webb was not prepared to go any further with that line, and demanded to know who occupied this particular flat. ‘I do,’ replied the man, who went on to identify himself as George Cyril Epton.

  Inspector Webb said he was going to have a look around the flat, and Epton did not object. Walking over to the French windows, which led out onto the small balcony, Webb saw that they were fastened shut. Webb opened them and looked out, seeing what he believed were bloodstains on the stone floor.

  ‘When were you out here last?’ asked Webb. Epton said that he rarely went onto the balcony, except on hot days in the summer. ‘Then how did these bloodstains get here?’ continued Webb. Epton glanced at the stains and replied, ‘That’s not blood. That’s dirt.’ He then paused for a few seconds before adding, ‘Well, they might be blood. My wife recently died of TB and she used to spit blood.’

  Continuing his look around the flat, Inspector Webb entered the bedroom, and saw more stains, which looked like blood, on the bottom of the bed. Epton claimed that these stains were red ink. Then, after another pause, he admitted that they might be blood too, but claimed that if they were blood, then they were his blood as he had recently suffered a nose bleed. Inspector Webb said he was not satisfied with Epton’s answers, and he would be taken to the police station for further questioning.

  At the police station, Epton continued to say that he knew nothing of the dead woman. He had never seen her before, he did not know her and he certainly had had nothing to do with her death. Nevertheless, he was held in the cells overnight, whilst the police investigation continued.

  By this time, the police had spoken to another resident of 17 Finborough Road, John Edward Eldred. He had returned home from work at some time between 9.00pm and 9.30pm on the evening of 5 May, and there had certainly been no body on the steps at that time. This proved that the woman must have been killed sometime on 5 May and her body dumped before 5.45am on 6 May. Meanwhile, items in the woman’s handbag had identified her as Winifred Mulholland, who lodged at 8 Braemar Road, Brixton. When officers spoke to Winifred’s landlady, Lilian Hall, she confirmed that Winifred had been staying there for about eight weeks
. She was also able to see that she had last seen Winifred at around 4.00pm on Sunday, 5 May, when she left the house. Later, Lilian made a positive identification of Winifred’s body and also of the distinctive fur coat she had been wearing when she left Braemar Road.

  Back at the police station, later that same day, 6 May, Epton was asked for a full statement outlining his personal details, and his movements over the last few days. He began by saying that he had lived at the flat for six years, initially with his wife. She had died, from consumption, on 24 February, since which time he had lived there alone. He had been unemployed since the end of February, and before that, had been an engineer’s assistant at Fulham Cross.

  Epton then turned to his movements on the days preceding Winifred Mulholland’s death. He gave a timetable, which involved visits to the Labour Exchange, meeting a lady friend in Tottenham Court Road, and taking her to the pictures. On the Sunday, the day Winifred had last been seen alive, Epton said he had walked to the Kings Road in Chelsea, and had a drink in the Six Bells public house, but had been home in bed by 10.30pm.

  At around 4.00am, on the morning of Monday, 6 May, Epton had been woken, by someone ringing the bell of the house next door. A minute or two later, his own front door bell rang and he heard voices in the street outside, but could not distinguish what they said. This was followed by the sound of a car racing off, after which it went quiet. He went back to sleep and knew nothing of the crime until someone knocked at his door and the police came in to talk to him.

  Epton was then asked to explain a few things that did not add up. The dead woman had been wearing no shoes when she was found. A pair of women’s shoes had been found in Epton’s fire grate, partly burned. Black, with red sides, Epton claimed that they had belonged to his wife and he had put them on the fire because they were of no use now. For the time being, the police decided that they had questioned Epton enough and he was returned to the cells.