Just wanted to flag an interview I’ve done about The Hunt for the 60s’ Ripper for Crime Country, a new YouTube channel.
It’s been launched by Nick Barksdale. He also runs the hugely popular Study of Antiquity and the Middle Ages channel on YouTube, which has 109,000 subscribers.
We chat for around 45 minutes about the case of the West London serial killer who eluded Scotland Yard’s biggest ever manhunt in 1964-65. We talk about why the investigation failed and what makes Harold Jones the number-one suspect for the crimes.
Coming to BBC iPlayer this evening is this new four-part series. It uses contemporary experts to reinvestigate notorious cold cases to unearth possible clues to the killers’ identities.
I am a contributor to one of the films, which explores the murder of showgirl Mamie Shotton, who went missing in 1920. Her body was found 41 years later in a cave on the Gower coastline.
The ‘dark land’ referred to here is Wales because all the crimes occurred there. The first case is the murder of Maureen Mulcahy at Port Talbot in 1976.
Suspicion fell on bigamist George Shotton
The other two are the murders of six-year-old Carol Ann Stephens in Cardiff in 1959 and Muriel Drinkwater, aged 12, in Swansea in 1946.
The Mamie Shotton case is one I researched for an episode of Murder by the Sea on CBS Reality, and it is intriguing. Suspicion fell on her husband, George, a marine surveyor who was 13 years older than his wife.
George Shotton was also a bigamist. When Mamie disappeared from their home in Swansea, her husband had another home nearby where he was also living with his first wife and their son.
The absence of Mamie’s body for several decades meant that police ended up only being able to charge George Shotton with bigamy. When she was discovered, by some pot-holers in 1961, not far from where George Shotton lived, he had already died.
Links beween Shotton and another notorious case?
Dark Land, however, speculates about his possible links to another notorious crime that occurred in the 1930s. Shotton was known to travel around, was arrogant and violent. The programme, hosted by author Dr Nell Darby and produced by Monster Films, looks at how he may have been responsible for more than one horrific crime.
The other crime, which caused a sensation in Britain in 1934, was the first Brighton Trunk Murder. This was the discovery of a torso in a trunk found in left luggage at Brighton railway station.
The victim was around 25 years old and found to be pregnant. Neither she nor her killer were ever identified.
For the programme I trawled through the archive at The Keep, Brighton, reviewing the police reports, before being filmed in Brighton.
Scotland Yard worked tirelessly to break the case but luck was against them. All the potential leads came to nothing and the decision to appeal to the public for information backfired when they were inundated with crank calls and useless tips.
‘It is difficult to speak with restraint…’
One extraordinary moment highlights how unlucky detectives were.
A man called Frederick Claridge, 37, was strolling along under the cliff at Black Rock with his friend, Barbara Naides. Incredibly, they found a female human head in a pool of water.
More incredibly, Claridge convinced his friend that they should not report this horrific discovery to the police. His reasoning was that someone had committed suicide and police had discarded the head.
The Chief Inspector notes, with commendable understatement, ‘It is difficult to speak with restraint as to why a normal and intelligent individual should form this view…’
Two young women lost their lives and their families never got any justice or insight into what happened to them. I’m sure Nell Darby will place their stories firmly and sympathetically at the centre of this documentary, but how strongly will George Shotton be implicated in both?
I wrote a feature for the Mirror‘s We Love TV mag this week and wanted to flag up this series.
It’s a three-part look at the appalling Harold Shipman case made by filmmaker Chris Wilson for BBC Two. It is 20 years since this family doctor was exposed as probably the worst serial murderer in modern times, but it’s hard to watch these films and still not be shocked today.
This is a serious, well-made series of documentaries, sensitively speaking to relatives of victims, detectives, journalists and others with a connection to the case. Chris Wilson’s aim is to explore how Shipman got away with murdering so many of his patients in plain sight for more than 20 years. His final total of victims is thought to be up to 250.
Wilson’s contention is that because many victims were elderly women they were not valued as members of society and too easily written off when found dead. It was a simple matter for Shipman to give them a dose of diamorphine and write ‘old age’ on their death certificate without raising suspicion.
Shipman the drug addict
Also in Shipman’s favour was the unwarranted level of trust and respect placed in GPs at this time. Earlier in his career Shipman had been revealed to be a drug addict himself, only to be give a second chance to continue his career by the authorities.
Shipman appeared to be a caring family doctor, frequently making housecalls apparently out of the goodness of his heart. These were often cover for his murders.
He was an arrogant, odious murderer of many perfectly healthy and active people. In a telling moment in the final film we see him turning his back on detectives in the interview room, refusing to answer a single question and closing his eyes when shown crime photos.
This is a moving and thought-provoking series in the best tradition of true-crime documentary reporting.
As the second wave of coronavirus lockdown looms, we all need cheering, so ITV’s three nights devoted to a drama about serial killer Dennis Nilsen this week may be approached with trepidation.
Nilsen was found guilty of murdering 15 boys and young men between 1978 and 1983. The case still has the power to dismay us, being a perplexing tale of loneliness and inexplicable horror. Most of the victims were not even missed.
ITV’s series, starring David Tennant as Nilsen, who was known as Des, is not a lurid recreation of the crimes, however. It comes at the events from an unusual angle, which should make the drama fascinating.
Writer Brian Masters got close to Nilsen while he was behind bars, and this relationship is central to the drama. Masters wrote a classic account of his dealings with Nilsen, Killing for Company, using the killer’s own writings and poems in addition to their interviews to offer psychological insights into the man.
The book starts with a description of Muswell Hill, where Nilsen had been living when he was arrested. It looks at his Scottish background and slowly builds a portrait of this solitary but intelligent civil servant.
Masters also spoke to Nilsen’s mother and leading detectives on the case, and wrote a balanced and rare depiction of a strange, shocking predator.
In the drama, Masters, played by Jason Watkins, is exhilarated to be involved in writing up the case, but he underestimates the impact his new obsession will have on his life. The series considers the ethics of our interest in such figures.
Undoubtedly, these are dark events, but I don’t feel our inclination to watch such series is prurient. Our curiosity to understand how these crimes occur and who commits them is powerful.
But after each episode, I might switch over for some escapism and watch Battlestar Galactica.
This is good news for the many viewers who have become devoted followers of these documentaries, recounting difficult murder cases that have confronted police around UK coastal towns.
Presented by the flamboyant Geoffrey Wansell, each episode interviews detectives and other experts – including true-crime writers like myself – to review cases ranging from the bizarre to the shocking.
In recent days this blog has been receiving hundreds of hits from viewers who have been watching summer repeats of the series. In response, I would love to hear which episodes you have found most compelling…
Barbara Tate’s memoir West End Girls is a totally absorbing and revelatory memoir about the author’s two-year stint working as a maid for the Queen of Soho – aka 1940s prostitute Mae.
It’s a remarkable glimpse at a lost Soho – grubby, still a residential neighbourhood with small businesses, seedy and with an air of criminality.
Barbara is a wide-eyed 21-year-old who has escaped a miserable childhood and has ambitions to be an artist, when she is invited by Mae to earn a lot of money as her companion, security guard and tea-maker.
I read this book as research about Soho in the 1940s, the background for a series of shocking murders that may become a book and/or TV documentary. It is informative, revelatory and hugely enjoyable.
Bondage, cross-dressers and ponces
Mae is a charismatic force of nature and introduces young Babs to her twilight world of bondage devotees, cross-dressers, punters, Maltese ponces and sister prostitutes. Barbara would eventually become a successful artist but reveals herself here to be a fantastic, empathetic writer.
She is never seduced into joining the sisterhood, but is a witty, non-judgmental and loyal observer throughout. Her recollections of Mae’s world are not for the faint-hearted, but, my goodness, it is hilarious, while ending on a tragic note. A brilliant and unforgettable read.
Little while ago @FlipLondonTours tweeted a pic of Paul McCartney filming a scene for A Hard Day’s Night in 1964. He’s seen going into The Bush on Goldhawk Road, London.
The scene was never used in the final film, but the picture gave me a jolt because I wrote about this pub in The Hunt for the 60s’ Ripper without knowing of this Beatles connection. It was the boozer in which the serial killer’s final victim, Bridie O’Hara, was last seen at closing time on 11 January 1965.
I commented in the book on the juxtaposition of so much Swinging Sixties culture being made in Shepherd’s Bush – Doctor Who at the Beeb round the corner, the Beatles themselves at the Hammersmith Odeon etc – while the area was also the stomping ground for a devious killer.
It’s bizarre to think this photo puts one of most famous 1960s movies on the same premises probably frequented by the killer.
The BBC4 documentary Dark Son even suggested that the man who is a strong suspect as the perpetrator of the crimes, Harold Jones, lived nearby in Aldensley Road.
Shepherd’s Bush was literally a crossroads between the explosion of popular postwar culture and the city’s dark side.
Many thanks to Aidan McManus of @FlipLondonTours for posting the pic.
A painstakingly researched and totally absorbing account of a once sensational, now forgotten, murder from 1935. Alma Rattenbury and her young lover, George Stoner, 18, faced the hangman in an Old Bailey trial following the murder of her husband, distinguished architect Francis Rattenbury. The case shocked, horrified, electrified the nation and went on to inspire plays and TV dramas.
Francis Rattenbury was a rather ratty old husband, pushing 70, his best years behind him. Alma was a flamboyant 43-year-old, a former musical prodigy, now stuck in a loveless, sexless marriage in a suburb of Bournemouth.
She fell passionately for teenage Stoner when he was taken on as the family’s driver, and all the fevered elements of a drawing-room tragedy were finally in place. In March 1935 Rattenbury had his brains bashed in and the lovers were soon in the dock.
Author Sean O’Connor, who is also a director and producer in TV, radio and film, conjures the mood and prejudices of the era for a superb account of the trial and its heartbreaking aftermath.
Michelle McNamara, who died in 2016, wrote one of the most fascinating true-crime books of the last 10 years.
I’ll Be Gone in the Dark charted her obsession with a case about an unknown perpetrator she called the Golden State Killer. The crimes graduated from burglaries to rapes and then murders.
They were chilling in their sadism, remorselessness and sheer volume.
McNamara was a graduate in creative writing who had an interest in true crime. She ran a website called TrueCrimeDiary and started to explore the crimes of a burglar and attacker known as the East Area Rapist, who operated in the Sacramento area in the late 1970s.
Between 1979 and 1986 there was then a series of murders attributed to the Original Night Stalker. It wasn’t until 2001 that DNA evidence confirmed it was one man committing this multitude of crimes.
Joseph James DeAngelo arrested
McNamara’s mission was to make the case better known and to uncover who had been getting away with these attacks for decades.
She died before she saw a suspect, former police officerJoseph James DeAngelo, aged 74, get arrested in 2018. He is charged with multiple first-degree murders and is awaiting trial.
The documentary is directed by Oscar-nominated filmmaker Liz Garbus. This should be an intriguing account of the case, but also, via McNamara’s own fixation on it, an insight into why so many people are fascinated by true crime.
I watched the opener of Jackie Malton’s latest series last night and thought it was a particularly sensitive and interesting episode.
The case was the heartbreaking kidnap of Muriel McKay from her home in Wimbledon in 1969. It was extraordinary for several reasons.
Muriel was the wife of Alick McKay, a newspaper executive and right-hand man of Rupert Murdoch. In 1969 Murdoch had just begun his move into expanding his newspaper interests into Britain from Australia, having recently bought the News of the World and The Sun.
The bungling kidnappers thought they were abducting Murdoch’s wife, Anna, rather than Muriel McKay, but still demanded £1million in ransom despite their blunder.