The Supernatural Murders

by Jonathan Goodman

  The Protracted Murder of Gregory Rasputin

  LADY LUCY WINGFIELD

  EDITOR’S NOTE. The Russian prince, Felix Yousoupoff (who was also entitled to the title of Count Sumarokov-Elston), was the husband of Princess Irina, daughter of the Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich and Tsar Nicholas II’s sister, the Grand Duchess Xenia. In 1916, when he was twenty-nine, he, with others, murdered the ‘Satanic Monk’, Gregory Rasputin (whose full surname was Rasputin-Novy or -Novykh). Rasputin was believed by many (foremost among them, both royal and noble ‘Sister-Disciples’) to be a miracle-worker, and by comparatively few others to be a dangerous charlatan; the majority of both the adorers and the haters agreed that he was the most influential man in Russia – and more powerful even than the Tsar. Just what Yousoupoff’s motive was – whether political, patriotic, sexual or superstitious – is argued over by people who believe that motives for murder are always finite and tidy, capable of being described in one or at most two words. Leon Trotsky, a founder of the Communist Party, considered that the murder of Rasputin ‘was carried out in the manner of a scenario designed for people of bad taste’. (In 1940, which was Trotsky’s thirteenth year of Stalin-imposed exile from the USSR, he himself was murdered, also untastefully – with an ice-axe wielded by a Stalinist agent who, having pretended admiration for Trotsky, had been welcomed into his heavily guarded villa near Mexico City.)

  Lady Lucy Wingfield was the fascinatingly beautiful wife of the diplomat Sir Charles, who from 1915 until 1919 was attached to the British Embassy at Tokyo. From there, on 28 November 1917 (three weeks after the start of the Russian Revolution), she wrote the following letter to Lady Fane, in England.

  Darling Mother,

  … This is the true story of the killing of Rasputin as told by Yousoupoff himself. It is particularly horrid and medieval but interesting. I remember first seeing Rasputin at the tourney when Lady Curzon was Queen of Beauty. He was so beautiful that I asked who he was.

  Rasputin, besides being vicious, was given to drink and was quite illiterate. He had a fine presence, great physical strength and a highly-developed magnetic power which enabled him to cure by the laying on of hands. Though he had relations with most of the ladies of the court and society, he was never really more to the Empress and young Archduchesses than arch-prophet and hypnotiser….

  Yousoupoff, who is young and handsome and of the intensely ‘Russian’ Party, got news at the beginning of November last year that a separate peace was to be declared by the Court Party. He could think of no way to prevent this but by the removal of Rasputin, and set to work to devise means to remove him. This was extremely difficult as Rasputin was always shadowed around Saint Petersburg by his secret police and, suspecting Yousoupoff’s clique, always refused to meet the young man. Finally Yousoupoff went to one of the court ladies, who had had an affair with Rasputin, and told her that he, Yousoupoff, was tuberculous – which he looks – and that having heard of Rasputin’s strange powers, he prayed her to implore Rasputin’s assistance. Finally Rasputin consented, stipulating that the interview must be at Rasputin’s house.

  Yousoupoff went on the day appointed, and was told to undress and lie on a sofa while Rasputin proceeded to make passes over him. Yousoupoff said that he felt as though streams of fire were running through him, and he melted like wax except for one square patch of resistance in the middle of his chest. These visits and treatments continued daily for some time, the square of resistance each time increasing till finally Yousoupoff said he felt himself entirely proof against Rasputin’s power. During these weeks he laid himself out in every way to fascinate Rasputin, who ended by becoming quite infatuated with him and, being very musical, used to spend hours listening to Yousoupoff’s singing and playing – but never forgot himself sufficiently to visit Yousoupoff at his own house or even to accept invitations to Yousoupoff’s friends. By this time they were on Christian-name terms and extremely intimate.

  The days were passing and Yousoupoff was in despair as he knew Rasputin was leaving for the Crimea in December and he wouldn’t get another chance in time to avert the disaster of a separate peace. He made a last appeal to Rasputin, saying he would take offence if he didn’t pay him one visit to see his curios, etc., before his departure. To his amazement and joy, Rasputin consented – but only on condition that Yousoupoff’s servants were sent away for the night – that no one knew of the visit – that they were entirely alone…. Overjoyed, Yousoupoff agreed to everything and dashed off to the Grand Duke Dimitri, who was his great friend and fellow-conspirator. They finally added two more members to the plot – a doctor to prepare the poison (as they had settled that as the easiest way to do the deed) and a member of the Duma – of the right – as a witness.

  The evening [of Friday, 16 December] arrived – the servants were dismissed. Yousoupoff went off in his little two-seater car to collect Rasputin. He found him gorgeously dressed in a silk soutane, with a jewelled cross on his chest. He helped him into a big fur-coat and motored him to his house, where he ushered him into the luxurious sitting-room. This room was on the ground floor, filled with objects of art, and had six doors to it. In the middle stood a table with poisoned fruit, cakes and wine at one end, while opposite were corresponding refreshments not poisoned. This poison, prepared by the doctor, was supposed to work instantaneously.

  They sat down and, pouring out some of the poisoned wine, Yousoupoff handed it to his guest, saying, ‘Drink, Gregory, to our next happy meeting.’ To his horror, Rasputin refused. He also refused to eat. This was the first time Yousoupoff had known him to refuse a drink, and naturally concluded that the plot was discovered. It wasn’t till ages afterwards that he found out that Rasputin belonged to a strange sect which would not eat or drink the first time they crossed the threshold of a house.

  Rasputin said, ‘Fetch your guitar and play and sing to me, as I cannot remain long.’ Yousoupoff played and sang, and Rasputin got more and more fascinated – till suddenly he held out his glass to be filled. Still singing, Yousoupoff filled it and watched him gulp it down. Again and again Rasputin tossed down glassfuls of the poisoned wine and then began eating the poisoned cakes and fruit. Yousoupoff watched anxiously for the expected result and – nothing happened! The hours passed; Rasputin drank and Yousoupoff sang, thinking desperately what could be done, knowing that this night was his last chance. The poison had no effect beyond making Rasputin rather drunk.

  Suddenly Yousoupoff thought of a plan. Leaning forward, he said, ‘You remember, Gregory, I told you of the fine crucifix I picked up last week and which you haven’t seen yet. I simply must show it to you before you leave – just wait a minute while I get it.’ He ran upstairs to his bedroom, where the three other conspirators were anxiously waiting and wondering why things took so long. He hurriedly told them what had happened, seized the crucifix and his revolver, and rushed back to find Rasputin leaning in an armchair, half asleep.

  Handing Rasputin the crucifix, he said, ‘Take it to the light, Gregory, it is a very fine one.’ Rasputin rose and, holding the crucifix in both hands up to the lamp, was just saying ‘Yes, the expression is …’ when Yousoupoff shot him through the shoulders from behind. Rasputin fell with a crash. Hearing the shot, the three other men came down, and the doctor said that Rasputin was in his death-agony and could only last a few minutes. Thereupon they left him lying on the floor and all four went up to the bedroom, shutting the door.

  All at once they heard a noise, and there was Rasputin covered in blood and foam – on all fours – having crawled up the stairs. He seemed to have superhuman strength. He wrenched the handle of the door and, seeing Yousoupoff, he gathered himself together for a spring – but the Deputy drew his revolver and shot him twice. Yousoupoff then seems to have broken down completely and, throwing himself on the corpse, tore it and mauled it like a dog.

  By this time, the secret police were hammering on the door. Yousoupoff and the Deputy sent the Grand Duke down to parley with them. The police asked wha
t the shots were and Dimitri carelessly answered, ‘Absolutely nothing – Yousoupoff’s dog turned savage and flew at me, so I shot him.’ Seeing who it was, the police made no more inquiries and departed. The conspirators then dressed Rasputin in his fur-coat, put the body on a sledge, drove it to the River Neva, broke a hole in the ice and bundled him in – but, in so doing, one of Rasputin’s fur boots fell off. This the police found next day, and so recovered the body.

  The Empress, on hearing of her favourite’s murder, went nearly mad and swore that, when caught, the murderers should be hanged without trial. But Yousoupoff and Dimitri went to the Czar and confessed, and he, worried that he might be implicated, didn’t dare to touch them beyond banishing them. The Empress and her Lady-in-Waiting visited the hut on the Neva where Rasputin’s body lay and wrapped it in rich silk. The Lady-in-Waiting’s name was something like Vourouba.

  This account of the macabre incident is from Lady

  Muriel Paget, who had it direct from Yousoupoff himself. She arrived here in Tokyo on her way from Russia via Siberia with a troop of nurses and governesses….

  Love,

  LUCY

  EDITOR’S NOTE. None of the murderers was tried for the crime; but, as has been said, the Tsar ordered the banishment of two of them – Yousoupoff to his estates in the province of Kursk, north of the Ukraine (where he remained but a short while before becoming an émigré).

  The Gutteridge Murder

  W. TEIGNMOUTH SHORE

  EARLY ON THE MORNING of Tuesday, 27 September 1927, William Ward, the driver of a van carrying mail, set out from Romford to Abridge, both in the county of Essex, north-east of London. About six o’clock, near Howe Green on the Romford Ongar Road, he came to a bend, and on turning the corner saw on his right hand a huddled form lying against the hedge. It was the body of Police Constable George Gutteridge. Quoting Mr Ward:

  I then got out. He was lying in a sort of semi-sitting position, resting against the bank. His left hand was closed. I took hold of his hand and it was cold. In his right hand there was a pencil. I also noted a pocket-book on the ground, and his helmet. I immediately went to a cottage nearby and fetched the occupier…. Later on, I telephoned to Romford Police Station.

  On receipt of this message, Detective Inspector John Crockford of the Essex Constabulary drove to the spot. This is what he observed:

  I noticed a pocket-book lying close to the body. A little farther on, his helmet was lying in the road. I noticed blood on the road. The blood started six feet from the rear side of the road as you go up-hill [that is, towards Ongar] till you came to the deceased’s head. It was a continuous trail of blood. At the place where the head itself lay, there was a pool of blood. There was no entry in the pocket-book relating to what had occurred. The constable was wearing his cape ….

  The two buttons of his tunic were undone, and his whistle was hanging from his pocket on its chain …. His pencil was in his right hand between his thumb and finger …. His truncheon was in his truncheon-pocket on his right-hand side. His torch was also in his pocket ….

  Dr Robert Woodhouse was summoned from Romford, arriving at about nine o’clock.

  Police Constable Gutteridge, a member of the Essex Constabulary, was stationed at Stapleford Abbotts, living there with his wife Rose. On the foggy night of Monday, 26 September, he was on duty, and went out again early the following morning, to meet Constable Sydney Taylor, who was stationed at Lambourne End, at a ‘conference point’ outside Grove House, close by Howe Green. They met at three o’clock, parting about half an hour later, each going in the direction of his home. Howe Green is in a quiet country neighbourhood, with few houses; the road is unlit and little frequented at night by passenger or vehicular traffic.

  It was decided by the Chief Constable of Essex to ask the assistance of New Scotland Yard, particularly as the crime had been committed close on the boundary of the Metropolitan Police district, and as there was therefore a considerable probability that the murderer or murderers would have come from and returned to London. The Commissioner of the Police of the Metropolis immediately dispatched Chief Inspector James Berrett and Detective Sergeant John Harris of the CID, who arrived on the scene early in the afternoon.

  Medical Evidence

  The testimony of Doctor Woodhouse was as follows:

  I was called to the spot where PC Gutteridge’s body was lying at about nine o’clock in the morning…. Life was extinct when I arrived. As far as I can judge, he had been dead between four and five hours.

  The next day I made a post-mortem examination. There were altogether seven wounds in the head. As far as I could see, there were four entrance wounds and three exit wounds. The four entrance wounds have been divided into two groups, those in the cheek and those through the eyes, two of each.

  With regard to the wounds through the cheek, it was the left cheek, and they were on a line with the lobe of the ear, one an inch and a quarter from the lobe of the ear, and the other three-quarters of an inch from the lobe of the ear. As regards the one which was farthest from the lobe of the ear, I was able to trace the exit; I was able to pass a probe through it out at the other side. The exit was at the level of the ear, about an inch in front of it, the track of that wound having risen one inch. It had gone through the palate and out through the jaw-bone at the side, fracturing it as it came out. The wound taken by itself would not necessarily have been fatal. As regards the second wound, the wound nearer the ear, I also tried that wound with a probe and found that it came out on the right side of the neck two inches below the mastoid process1 on the right side…. This second wound in its passage cut through the right internal carotid artery, and death from that wound would have taken place, very probably in the space of a minute or a minute and a half, from haemorrhage. It is the sort of wound from which the blood would be spurting…. The skin round the wounds showed a large number of small black specks.

  There was a wound in each eye, through each eyelid, the one on the right being a trifle higher than the one on the left. The actual skin of the eyelids was broken as if something had been driven through it, and there was what I should call ‘peppering’ round the wounds. It was the same on both sides of the face, only it was more marked in the case of the right eye than the left. They were bullet-wounds, somewhat oval in shape and scorched round the edges. That was in addition to the black marks I have referred to. I was only able to trace the exit wound of the wound in the right eye, and it came out through a large wound in the back of the head. In the case of the left eye, the probe would not go through it; it came to a dead stop. Later I examined the brain, and found a distorted bullet. It was on the left side of the brain. That is consistent with its being the bullet which went through the eye….

  In my opinion, death was due to haemorrhage and lacerations of the brain caused by bullets.

  1. The portion of bone projecting behind the ear.

  The doctor added that the bullets which made the cheek-wounds had been fired at a distance of about ten inches.

  We are now at this: we know the cause of death and have certain clues which indicate what probably took place. Gutteridge seemingly had blown his whistle, possibly hoping that Constable Taylor was still within hearing of it. He had been about to make some notes in his book. There were no signs of a struggle, but on the bank opposite to where the body lay were marks of the tyres of a motor-car that had partly left the roadway.

  Bearing all these points in mind, it appeared probable that the constable had been shot by the occupant or occupants of a car which he had stopped, desiring to make some inquiry. As he lay dying, the shots had been fired into his eyes, an act of brutality and ruthlessness which suggested the work of a hardened criminal.

  Theft of the Car

  That same night – or rather, morning – a Morris-Cowley car had been stolen at Billericay, about twelve miles from the scene of the murder. Was that the car which Gutteridge had challenged? If so, what was it that had made the people in it so vindictive and desperate
? About half-past two, this car had been taken from the garage of Doctor Lovell at Billericay. Five hours later, it was discovered, abandoned, at Brixton, South London. A resident there, in Foxley Road, was in the habit of leaving home at about 7.30am, going out by the back door through a little passage-way shut off from the road by iron gates. This morning he was surprised to find a Morris-Cowley car drawn up close to the house-wall. As he went round the front of the car, he put his hand on the radiator and found it quite warm. Returning in the evening about six and finding the car still there, he communicated with the police. The number on the car proved it to be that which had been stolen from Billericay.

  The doctor’s two cases of instruments and a small case containing a few drugs were gone. A further and most important point was this : the doctor estimated that when the car left his garage, the mileometer’s terminal figures must have been 40.9. The terminal figures at Brixton read 84.3; therefore the car must have been driven some 42 miles. Was there any route from Billericay that would fit these figures?

  The distance the car had travelled showed that the direct route from Billericay to London had not been followed, presumably because the thief or thieves desired to avoid Brentwood High Street, where a police officer, on duty all night, might stop them and ask awkward questions. Stage by stage, the route was traced: on past Gutteridge’s house; again it was heard close to the scene of the murder; after that, stage by stage, to London. The circuitous ways taken on this foggy night proved that the driver must have intimate knowledge of the countryside. So to Brixton. It is worth quoting here the evidence by Detective Sergeant Harris at the trial:

  On 9 February I went from the address in Brixton, 21 Foxley Road, to Billericay, to Doctor Lovell’s house. It was a test-drive with regard to the mileage from this place to the doctor’s house. On the first journey we went by the main road, passing through Romford and Brentford, turning off at Shenfield. That is the most direct route we could discover, going by main roads. The mileage was exactly 27 miles. Before we made the return journey, we set the mileometer at zero, and returned to the place we had started from by quite another route. On that occasion we went down the Mountnessing Road past the spot where Gutteridge’s body was found, and thence, via Abridge, Chigwell, Buckhurst Hill and Woodford, to Stratford, and we there rejoined the main road and travelled the same route as before, continuing to Aldgate and the Elephant and Castle to Foxley Road. When we stopped at Foxley Road, the mileage was 42.1 miles.