Five time nominated BEST BRITISH TRUE-CRIME PODCAST at the True Crime Awards, Independent Podcast Award and The British Podcast Awards, and voted 4th Best True-Crime Podcast by This Week, iTunes Top 25 Podcast, Podcast Magazine's Hot 50, The Telegraph's Top 5, Crime & Investigation Top 20 True-Crime Podcasts, also seen on BBC Radio, Sky News, The Guardian and TalkRadio's Podcast of the Week.
'The Mercer's (today)
This is a ten-part crossover series written and created by Murder Mile and True Crime Enthusiast. Parts A to F (covering the murders that serial killer Patrick MacKay confessed or was suspected of) are available via Murder Mile, and Parts 1 to 4 (covering the murders he was convicted of, as well as his life, his upbringing and his trial is available via the True Crime Enthusiast podcast.
PATRICK MACKAY: TWO SIDES OF A PSYCHOPATH: This is Part C of F of Patrick MacKay: Two Sides of a Psychopath, about the killing of Stephanie Britton and Christopher Martin. On the night of Friday 11th of January 1974, inside the six-bedroomed home called ‘The Mercers’ on Hadley Green Road in Barnet, north-west London, the bodies of 58-year-old window Stephanie Britton and her 4-year-old grandson Christopher Martin were found. This was two of the additional eight murders that British serial killer Patrick MacKay was suspected of, but why would he deny it? This series explores the killings he confessed to, and which he committed.
Part C of F by Murder Mile covers the murder of Stephanie Britton & Christopher Martin:
Part 3 of 4 by True Crime Enthusiast covers the life of Patrick MacKay:
SOURCES: a selection sourced from various archives:
MUSIC:
UNEDITED TRANSCRIPT: ‘Maniac’, ‘Monster’, ‘Crazed’, these are the words proceeding MacKay’s name in every article written about him, and it’s how he’s been described by psychiatrists since his first diagnosis as a ‘psychopath’ aged 11. But it wasn’t a mental illness manageable by drugs, but an untreatable personality disorder caused by neglect and abuse, in which he would try “to solve his emotional problems with violence”. In his 40-page memoir written in Brixton Prison before his trial, MacKay stated “I only had the best of intentions in living my life, but one cannot, unfortunately, always foresee the certain type of stigmas that can form… in such an imperfect world”, as being a boy who distrusted adults, the system and was bounced between institutions, the only consistency in his life was solitude, violence and getting drunk. July 1966, aged 14, four years after the death of his drunken father who he idolised but never grieved, MacKay was sent to West Hill in Dartford, one of many psychiatric hospitals where as a young boy he spent his most formative years. January 1967, aged 15, he was back at West Hill. May 1968, aged 16, he was at Gravesend. That October, charged with the robbery and GBH of a 12-year-old boy, he was held at Moss Side Hospital in Liverpool (hundreds of miles from his home in Kent). And bounced from Moss Side to Stonehouse in Dartford - as a succession of doctors had no idea what to do with him - how could a child grow-up to be ‘normal’, if they’ve been told that they’re a ‘maniac’ or a ‘monster’? Medical experts stated he wasn’t mentally unwell, but plagued by depression and suicide attempts (in which many times he tried to drown, stab himself or jump in front of a train), were they a cry for help, were they spawned by a sense of shame, and were hospitals the only place he felt loved, or accepted? Title: Patrick MacKay: Two Sides of a Psychopath – Part C. Calling the early years of MacKay’s criminal career a ‘crime spree’ is a gross exaggeration, as in all parts of his life, he was an under-achiever; he had jobs but no focus, an education but it was fractured, he could be charming but had few friends and no girlfriend, and although when he wrote he was eloquent, in every institution he was lumped-in with the low-IQ kids doing menial work for low pay. He drank to quieten his mind and committed crimes to quell his boredom. By 1973, aged 21, although it’s unlikely that he murdered Heidi Mnilk, and 11 days later, it’s improbable that the killed Mary Hynds - as arrested on 15th of July for chasing a homeless man with a metal pole, he was held on remand at Ashford and wasn’t released until the 27th of July when he was given a six-month suspended sentence – he had two more convictions that year; 24th of September at Dartford for being drunk and disorderly and 25th of October at Highgate for stealing a bicycle - hardly the crimes of a infamous serial killer. That said, although a petty thief and a wastrel, he’d found himself a job, as being 6 foot 2 and solidly built, he was hired as a van boy for Perrin’s of Finchley, a furniture removals firm covering towns in the north-west London borough of Barnet which included Hendon, Golders Green, Edgware and Finchley where he was then living with Father ‘Ted’ Brack, as well as the wealthier villages like Hadley. Said to be “quiet and solitary”, this was one of the longest periods of employment he had, and with his bosses accepting his bouts of arrest and incarceration, it also marked a key moment in what truly was his ‘crime spree’, as the first provable incident in which he targeted wealthy old ladies had begun. In November 1973, 83-year-old actress Jane Comfort was appearing in the Agatha Christie thriller ‘The Mousetrap’ at the Ambassador Theatre in London’s West End. Mid-performance, MacKay snuck in via the stage door, stole £4 (£60 today) and fled as she’d seen his face. Oddly, two months later, asking an elderly lady for directions on her doorstep at Gloucester Place, it was only after he had punched her in the face and thrown her to the ground for the sake of £40, that he realised this again was Jane. She gave detectives an accurate description of her attacker, later discovered to be Patrick MacKay. Just days later, in an unnervingly similar attack three miles south in Cheyne Walk, he gained entry to the home of 84-year-old Isabella Griffiths and murdered her, marking his very first confirmed kill... …but in between both, did he also murder Stephanie Britton? She was the epitome of MacKay’s new victims, and although younger than most being just 58, she was a wealthy widow who lived alone. Born on 9th of April 1916 in Barnet, north-west London, Stephanie Elizabeth Nunn lived in the picturesque village of Hadley all of her life, from birth through to death. As a baby, she was born in The White House in Hadley Green, she was baptised in St Mary the Virgin church in Monken Hadley, in her early school years she’d lived on nearby Barnet High Street as one of three children to Dr John Wilfred Nunn and Hilda (who the census lists as a ‘householder’ as with three domestic servants, normally a ‘wife’ would be listed as doing ‘unpaid domestic duties’, but not here). This was a life of middle-class privilege, just a few miles from the city, but a distance from the slums, the poverty and the choking fumes, and as a picture-perfect idyll, it was safe and serene place to live. Like her brothers, Michael and John (who ran the local doctor’s surgery with his father), Stephanie was well-educated, but her place in life was as a wife and mother, and that is what she was to be. Having married at St Mary the Virgin church at the outset of World War Two to Mervyn Anthony Britton, a good man who later became a well-known solicitor at Longmore’s of Hertford, together they lived in the village of Hadley, where their two children - Oliver and Joanna - were also born and raised. Unlike most, their lives weren’t blighted by tragic pasts, as it was peaceful and calm, at least for now. In October 1969, around the time that MacKay was committed to Moss Side Psychiatric Hospital, after more than 30 years of marriage, Stephanie was widowed when her beloved husband Mervyn passed. Emotionally, it broke her, but surrounded by all she had ever known; her family, her friends, her priest, her clubs, and the familiar warm bosom of the village she loved, Hadley was always her safety net. Described as “kind, quiet, generous and modest with an immense charm”, Stephanie was ‘popular and well liked’, and was active in her local charities and organisations, like Barnet Arts Club, the Darby and Joan Club (as treasurer of this OAP’s social club) and the Barnet Old People’s Welfare Committee. With her grey hair, spectacles and neat clothes, she exuded a sense of propriety as she cycled about on an old-fashioned bicycle and was easy to spot. And hating fuss and being strong-willed, although it was said she was “gentle and lady-like”, she had a boisterous sense of humour, described as ‘masculine’. In 1965, with her husband still alive, they moved into a six bedroomed £60,000 Georgian house called ‘The Mercers’ on Hadley Green Road, worth £3.25 million today. Overlooking the soothing silence of the village green with its gently swaying trees and its duck filled ponds, it was her place of happiness. But by 1973, with her daughter Joanna having married and her son Oliver moving out, this family home was too big and empty for this widow to live alone, so in the New Year, she was planning to sell up. Stephanie’s life had changed to such an extent that – unaware of MacKay, his crimes and his need for attention forming in the mind of a serial killer to-be - she unwittingly became his perfect victim; she was lonely yet kind; isolated and defenceless, being a wealthy widow with a warm-heart whose door was always open, and whose home which was full of easy-to-steal antiques, jewellery and cash. Stephanie Britton would be victim number three of the infamous eleven… …the problem was, he never confessed to her killing. In fact, he “vehemently denied it”. But why? Friday 11th of January 1974 was a brutally horrible day, as with temperatures barely above freezing, a bruised black sky unleashed a bitter torrent of hard hail, lashing rain and violent thunderstorms across London. Many, like Stephanie may have chosen to wade it out inside a warm bright house, but on 1st of January, sparked by the worldwide energy crisis, the UK Government had introduced the Three-Day Week meaning that electricity and gas supplies were strictly rationed to conserve its dwindling supply. Inside ‘The Mercers’, this oversized nine-roomed house where Stephanie lived alone, that night, it was only lit by candle light, only warmed by a log fire, and with entertainments like television and radio off at a respectable hour, from the outside, it looked as if no-one was in, except for the flicker of a torch. Stephanie was last seen alive by her daughter at 6:30pm, two hours after dusk, and was said to be in good spirits. She had no worries, she hadn’t enemies, she hadn’t befriended a stranger and although these houses were often the target for professional burglars, her worldly goods weren’t all on display. On the 1st of February, three weeks after her murder but crucially a full year before MacKay was even on the Police’s radar as a burglar and murderer of lone elderly ladies, an eye-witness in Hadley recalled seeing a man at 8pm near Joslin’s pond, a 30 second walk from ‘The Mercers’. He was “tall, about 30, with dark short hair and wearing a long military top coat with a belt”. MacKay was 6 foot 2, 23 but looked older, had dark short hair and wore military style coats, which although not unique, it is similar. At the time, MacKay lived with Reverand Brack in East Finchley, five stops south of the Northern Line, a short ride by bus, and having quit his job at the Perrin’s on 5th of January, he was unemployed and broke until the 14th, three days after her killing, and that day, he couldn’t account for his whereabouts. Typical of his crimes, Police said “there was no evidence of a break-in”, as MacKay’s method was either to snatch his victim’s handbag on a street, attack them on their doorstep, or using a sympathetic ploy by asking for a directions, a glass of water or to use the toilet, he’d come across as a softly spoken boy. Joanna, Stephanie’s daughter later stated “she was not very careful about locking-up”, but that night, her front door would be deliberately left off the latch, as at around 8pm, she was expecting a visitor. Later found on a table in the sitting room, it is believed she had left a handwritten note on the front door which read, ‘Alan, I am on the telephone, please come in, Steph”. Said to be “a prolific user of the telephone”, she had a lot friends locally and across the country, but all Alan’s were unaccounted for. Even though it’s clear that she knew him, she trusted him and (as planned) she was expecting him. MacKay often used the alias of Peter McCann, but was he the ‘Alan’ she was expecting? Many of his victims weren’t strangers, as being amiable and charming like a kindly grandson, prior to his attacks, he would chat with them, drink with them and carry their shopping like a family friend. Records also show that she received a call at roughly 8pm, but detectives couldn’t tell who or where it came from. So, if this was MacKay, what was his motive… …a robbery for greed, an attack for thrills, or an accidental murder resulting in shame? Detective Chief Superintendent William Wilson of Scotland Yard’s Murder Squad stated, “if it was an intruder, there was no need to kill a small, defenceless woman, there wasn’t even a dog in the house”. Found downstairs in the sitting room, not far from the phone, Stephanie was fully dressed and lying prone on the floor (identical to Adele Price and Isabella Griffiths). With a seven-to-nine-inch single-edged knife with a brown handle missing from her kitchen, it was likely but unconfirmed that this was the weapon used to kill her, as it was never found. And yet, with some early confusion over the length and type of the blade, it could easily have been a five-inch stiletto MacKay admitted he often carried. With cuts, grazes and bruises to her head and hands, the pathologist said these were signs of a violent struggle as – fighting for her life - Stephanie was kicked and punched to the ground by her assailant. Overpowered and helpless, nine times he had stabbed her in her chest, her neck, her back and under her armpit, penetrating her most vital of organs like her lung and heart. Described by DCS Wilson as “a frenzied attack, one of the worst murders I have ever encountered”, with a single ferocious strike, one of the stab wounds was so vicious, the blade had penetrated her body and the floorboard below. Again, MacKay would later state the same fact about Isabella Griffiths, but was this untrue, or had he conflated the 25+ identical attacks on elderly ladies, as he had done with the murder of Mary Hynds? As was said, nothing was stolen, so either robbery wasn’t the motive, or he had been disturbed? But either way, as with other attacks by MacKay, detectives felt it was a cruel and “a motiveless killing”. With the energy crisis making the house inordinately cold, pathologist Dr David Bowen could only put a time of death - as she died not long after the attack - somewhere from 8:30pm to 10pm. As was his method, it looked like a robbery, but detectives felt the rooms had been “superficially ransacked” as if the suspect was obfuscating his crime “as nothing of value was taken… other than a kitchen knife”. But perhaps, what began as a robbery had ended in a brutal murder, due to something unforeseen? That night, except for ‘Alan’ - who may have been MacKay using an alias, or an unknown guest who might not have turned up - Stephanie was supposed to have been alone in her large empty house, but at the last minute, her plans for the evening had changed, and for her, it would change for the worse. On the 3rd of March 1969, having previously married 32-year-old Michael Martin, Stephanie was elated that she’d become a grandmother, as her daughter Joanna had given birth to a boy called Christopher. Like his granny, being born, baptised, raised and living his whole short life in Hadley, Christopher Jan Nicholas Martin was small, fair-haired and described as a “happy and brilliant little boy”, who always smiled, eternally giggled, was quiet but bright, and was often seen helping his granny in her garden. A year earlier, Joanna & Michael had separated, and not wanting to disrupt his education, aged just 4, he lived with his mother at Hadley Highstone and went to Monken Hadley junior school. That evening, with his mother out with friends and his father flying over from Ireland the next day to see him, Joanna had dropped him off at ‘The Mercer’s at 6:30pm, so he could sleep - as he often did - at his granny’s. It was a place he felt safe, they both did, and yet someone would devastate this entire family. DCS Wilson stated “if it was an intruder, there was no need to kill a small, defenceless woman…and why go upstairs and kill a sleeping child? It would only delay his escape. No-one in their right mind could have murdered those two”, clarifying “no normal person would have gone to those lengths”. Dressed in his pyjamas and having been told a bedtime story, about 7pm, Christopher lay curled up in his bedroom, with the lights off, wrapped-up in a warm duvet, and by 8pm, he was sound asleep. With no witnesses to the crime, only a trail of devastation, it's uncertain what had occurred. Was Christopher sleeping as was stated? Was he awoken by his granny’s screams, did he see her brutal death from the stairs, and racing back up to his bedroom where he mistakenly thought he was safe - with the intruder not wanting to leave behind an eyewitness – was he killed to ensure he never spoke? Using possibly the same blade which had slayed his granny, in his bed, the tiny boy was stabbed several times, as the knife penetrated his pyjamas and blanket, held over him for warmth and protection. That night, two murders occurred; one was the epitome of a MacKay victim, the other was not. At an undetermined hour, the killer left. As MacKay often did; the lights were off but only because of the energy crisis, the front door was locked with the key taken but the French doors at the back were open, and - possibly with the killer prone to depression and staying with the body hours after the murder - just as an eyewitness had seen “a tall man, about 30, in a military style top coat” walking by Joslin’s pond at 8pm, another saw a man fitting that description leaving Hadley Green at 5:30am. But was it MacKay? The next morning, with Stephanie having not returned Christopher back to his mum’s house, at 10am, she went to ‘The Mercer’s. It was a sight so horrifying, it left her traumatised until her death in 2007. On Wednesday 23rd of January, at Monken Hadley Church, 300 mourners attended the double funeral of Stephanie Britton and Christopher Martin, with both buried side-by-side at Bells Hill burial ground. An incident room was set-up in the top two rooms of Barnet Police Station on the High Street, with 30 detectives, a few desks, two phones, and a bookcase bowing with the weight of statements, maps and street plans. Dog handlers scoured the green, frogmen searched the ponds, 3000 people were spoken to, with 1000+ statements taken. DCI Joe Pallett stated “the biggest headache was the lack of motive. The house was ransacked. It had all the appearance of a burglary with the thief being disturbed. But nothing was stolen… It’s got all the signs of a break-in, but there are too many inconsistencies”. Again, what was clear was that the killer was “a maniac”. DCI Pallett said “whoever committed these murders was unbalanced at the time. That does not necessarily mean that we believe whoever did it is permanently unstable, but the severity and brutality of the attacks indicate a kind of frenzy” – so someone who wasn’t necessarily ‘mentally unwell’, but had a ‘severe psychotic personality disorder’. Local hospitals and psychiatric units were checked for missing patients, drug addicts were questioned, as well as felons with a history of burglary and violence, but no-one seemed to fit the bill. MacKay wasn’t questioned, as being just a petty thief, he was yet to appear on the police’s radar as a murderer. Forensics swarmed The Mercer’s, but with the doors left open and the night bitterly cold, they couldn’t shorten the ‘time of death’ window to less than 8:30pm (when Stephanie ended her call) and 10pm, and as a very popular woman whose large home was used as a meeting place for her many charities and clubs, more than 200 sets of fingerprints were found, one of which may have been her killer. What was clear, as DCI Pallett said “someone went to a lot of trouble to disguise these killings”. But who, and why? Three days after the discovery of the bodies, Police stated that a man “early 30s, well built, fair hair… had spent his third night at (Barnet police station)”. They refused to name him, “but he has not been detained and came to the station voluntarily”. Some have suggested that this was the Police’s primary suspect, or Patrick MacKay in disguise? In truth, it was Christopher’s grieving father, Michael. Having flown from Ireland, he spent 60 hrs being questioned, and as must be done was ruled out as a suspect. The ”tall, dark haired man in the military style top coat” was never identified. But was it MacKay? The killing of Isabella Griffiths - his first confirmed kill - four weeks after Stephanie’s murder had as many similarities as dissimilarities, but as we know, MacKay’s method of killing was inconsistent. On Thursday the 8th of August 1974, at Hornsey Coroner’s Court, it was ruled as a ‘murder by persons unknown’. With no-one charged or suspected, and every angle investigated, the case went cold until Patrick MacKay made his miraculous confession, “I killed eleven people”. On Sunday 20th of April 1975, the Sunday Mirror declared ‘Scotland Yard is carrying out one of the most sensational mass murder investigation in its history. Detectives are examining clues which could link several killings with one maniac… Deputy Assistant Commissioner Ernest Bond… ordered detectives to make urgent inquiries based on a multiple murder theory. Originally there were no grounds to suspect the murders might be connected’ – but one of those was Stephanie Britton & Christopher Martin, along with Mary Hynds. Unlike the killing of Heidi Mnilk, this one was sparsely covered, so even if he had lied in his confession, he would have got most of the facts wrong. Unlike in Mary Hynds’ murder, detectives couldn’t coerce him to wrap-up to an unsolvable case, as he ‘vigorously denied’ he had anything to do with the murder. In ‘Psychopath’ by Tim Clark & John Penycate, it states “Mackay is said to have confessed to this crime to a fellow prisoner”, but this cannot be verified, and many details in this book are woefully incorrect, such as claiming “MacKay had visited the house when working for the removals firm, Perrin’s”, but why would Stephanie call a removals company, when she hadn’t even put her house on the market? Handcuffed and driven to ‘The Mercer’s in a police van, in his memoir, MacKay wrote “I went to view the outside of the house. However having said that, it is my belief that they will always wonder whether I knew something about this bizarre slaying or not. The answer is, of course, that I did not”. MacKay remains the Police’s only suspect in this double murder… and it makes perfect sense why. Stephanie was the epitome of a MacKay victim, the murder mirrors that of Isabella Griffiths and Adele Price, he was possibly seen in the area at the time of the killings, he was local, knew the area, and the next job he got just three weeks later was as a patrolling ‘trustee’ picking up litter in Hadley Green. When he was tried at the Old Bailey in November 1975, Patrick MacKay was subsequently convicted of three murders – Adele Price, Isabella Griffiths and Father Anthony Crean – and of the two additional murders he was suspected of, confessed to and was charged with, Stephanie & Christopher’s killings weren’t ‘left on file’. In fact, the evidence against MacKay was so slim, it wasn’t even brought to trial. In 2012, with this cold case being reviewed, MacKay still hasn’t been charged, he denies their killing, and even the last surviving members of Stephanie’s family “don’t think MacKay was the killer”. (Out) But why would this attention-seeking serial-killer, who had already murdered three and had confessed to eight more murders, deny – in the strongest, unwavering words – that he’d anything to do with it? It could all just be a game, a ploy to keep his name in the headlines, because as we know, detectives stated that MacKay was “an inveterate liar”, or again, he’s simply mistaking one attack for another? Maybe realising that - as a nobody who had achieved nothing and was destined to be forgotten - now having become an infamous serial killer, that he wanted to be written about like John Reginald Christie and John George Haigh, but not hated like Myra Hindley & Ian Brady – The Moor’s Murderers, was the murder of Stephanie Britton acceptable in his warped moral code, but not the killing of her grandson? Were both killings a mistake, as there’s no hard evidence to prove that the murders he was convicted of were premeditated, beyond being robberies which went wrong. And as a psychopath prone to short powerful burst of violent rage followed by long periods of self-hatred and depression, are we too ready to accept his retelling of the murders in his 40-page prison memoir, which bolsters his infamy? Maybe he “vehemently denied” the killing of Christopher Martin, as having been routinely beaten and abused as a young boy himself, did this killing make him realise that he was becoming like his drunken violent father, a man he hero-worshipped but couldn’t mourn? Either way, MacKay did have a history of attacking young boys; as in 1967, he was charged with the assault of two boys on a building site by smashing their heads into the rubble, and in 1968, he attempted to strangle a 12-year-old boy who he robbed for a watch, in which a Home Office psychiatrist described him as a ‘cold blooded psychopath’. That said, when he attacked those boys, he was little more than a child himself… …but was it all because of shame, confusion, or was he building a legacy? Part D of ‘Patrick MacKay: Two Sides of a Psychopath’ continues next week, with Part 1 of 4 (covering in detail the killings of Father Crean, Isabella Griffith and Adele Price, as well as MacKay’s life, crimes and trial) available now via as part of this cross-over series with the True Crime Enthusiast podcast. Just search ‘Patrick MacKay: Two Sides of a Psychopath’, or click on the link in the show-notes. The Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast has been researched using the original declassified police investigation files, court records, press reports and as many authentic sources as possible, which are freely available in the public domain, including eye-witness testimony, confessions, autopsy reports, first-hand accounts and independent investigation, where possible. But these documents are only as accurate as those recounting them and recording them, and are always incomplete or full of opinion rather than fact, therefore mistakes and misrepresentations can be made. As stated at the beginning of each episode (and as is clear by the way it is presented) Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast is a 'dramatisation' of the events and not a documentary, therefore a certain amount of dramatic licence, selective characterisation and story-telling (within logical reason and based on extensive research) has been taken to create a fuller picture. It is not a full and complete representation of the case, the people or the investigation, and therefore should not be taken as such. It is also often (for the sake of clarity, speed and the drama) presented from a single person's perspective, usually (but not exclusively) the victim's, and therefore it will contain a certain level of bias and opinion to get across this single perspective, which may not be the overall opinion of those involved or associated. Murder Mile is just one possible retelling of each case. Murder Mile does not set out to cause any harm or distress to those involved, and those who listen to the podcast or read the transcripts provided should be aware that by accessing anything created by Murder Mile (or any source related to any each) that they may discover some details about a person, an incident or the police investigation itself, that they were unaware of.
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Five time nominated BEST BRITISH TRUE-CRIME PODCAST at the True Crime Awards, Independent Podcast Award and The British Podcast Awards, and voted 4th Best True-Crime Podcast by This Week, iTunes Top 25 Podcast, Podcast Magazine's Hot 50, The Telegraph's Top 5, Crime & Investigation Top 20 True-Crime Podcasts, also seen on BBC Radio, Sky News, The Guardian and TalkRadio's Podcast of the Week.
This series explores the killings he confessed to, and which he committed.
PART B of Murder Mile covers the murder of Mary Hynds:
PART 2 of True Crime Enthusiast covers the murders of Adele Price & Isabella Griffiths:
SOURCES: a selection sourced from various archives:
MUSIC:
UNEDITED TRANSCRIPT: 11 days after the murder of Heidi Mnilk, a lone elderly woman was brutally murdered in her home, and with Patrick MacKay having confessed to it, this was more in keeping with his method and motive. 22nd of April 1975, Canon Row police station, with MacKay having admitted to “killing eleven people” stating “all I want to do is to be frank and honest”, one of the eight earlier killings he was suspected of or had confessed to was so compelling for the Police that MacKay was charged with her murder. Detective Superintendent John Bland was stunned as Mary Hynds was the epitome of a MacKay victim; an elderly lady who lived alone, had let her killer in, and with no obvious motive, she was strangled or suffocated like Adele Price & Isabella Griffiths, bludgeoned to death like Father Anthony Crean, and with little or nothing stolen, the weapon was left, the keys taken, the door locked and the body hidden. MacKay’s memory would always be an issue being questioned about so many almost identical attacks months or years prior, and as a drunk and a drug-abuser whose recall was clouded by what he called “a white mist”, Justice Milmo who tried MacKay at the Old Bailey stated “it is quite clear that you are not insane”, but subject to “eruptions of violence followed by deep depressions which wiped from his mind any memories of what had happened”, serial-killer MacKay presented as “a classic psychopath”. When questioned, he remembered being in Kentish Town, he recalled that the house “had trees or a big hedge”, he asked for a glass of water, dragged her inside and the backdoor was nailed shut. DS Bland stated “I must be fair Patrick, this appears identical to the method you used because not only was the body covered, as in the Cheyne Walk job, but the doors were locked and the keys taken away, which as you admit, is your method”. And MacKay agreed, but owing to time “I just can’t remember”. With Mary’s murder under the jurisdiction of Detective Chief Inspector John Harris, interviewed again on the 3rd of July 1975 at Albany Street police station, MacKay was forthcoming, politely asking “if you can help clear my mind, I will tell you what I know”, and being shown ten crime scene photos of Mary’s murder to refresh his memory, MacKay said “it certainly sounds like me… but I just can’t remember”. Later that day, handcuffed in the back of a police van, MacKay was driven to Mary’s home at 4 Willes Road and declared “yes, I can positively say this is the house I went into, there is no doubt at all”. And with DCI Harris “quite satisfied” that MacKay was Mary’s murderer, he was formerly charged and even thanked the officer, again saying “this is a great weight off my mind. I have been worrying about this”. So if MacKay didn’t murder Heidi Mnilk, was the murder of Mary Hynds his first fledgling killing? Title: Patrick MacKay: Two Sides of a Psychopath – Part B. Patrick MacKay fits the archetype of a psychopath, yet it’s unclear why he became a murderer, maybe for thrills, to sate a sadistic streak, or maybe - as nobody who had achieved nothing - for attention? As a loner born in a family of fear with an abusive drunken father and a battered mother on the verge of another breakdown, although intelligent, when his dad died when he was just 10, he hadn’t the facility to process the trauma, so feeling abandoned by his mother, his emotional outlet was violence. As a lost boy, he stole, but it was rarely out of necessity. He lied, even when it served no purpose. He bullied, but his attacks were often random. And what is an arsonist, if it’s not a cry for attention? His split personality - that of an angel one minute and a devil the next - mirrors his lack of trust in the systems there to protect him, as – being described by himself as a chaotic “to and fro” - his life swung wildly from periods of happiness and semi-stability, to being put in foster homes, remand centres, borstals and long stints in psychiatric hospitals like Moss Side in Liverpool and Stone House in Dartford. Lashing out in rage at the only family he had left, across his teens and into his twenties, he never had a home, he hated every institution he was forcibly sent to, and seen as ‘a waste space’ by those who dictated his fate, every job he did – as an egg-packer, a labourer or a litter picker – frustrated him. Some of the most infamous moments in his upbringing, readily recounted by the press with real relish are those defined as the ‘making of a monster’; him strangling a dog, tortured a rabbit, glueing bird’s feet to the road to watch them get runover, and putting a live tortoise on a fire to watch it burn, as well as his only ‘pleasant memory’ being when his father told him his war stories of death and murder. His sadistic streak is a stick many would beat him with, failing to acknowledge that (as the Police called him) “an inveterate liar”, but many of these stories were told in hindsight by those who wanted to distance themselves from a serial killer and psychopath. So how much of this is proven, or even true? Cruelty was part of his life and empathy wasn’t a skill he possessed, and in the same way his dad doled out beatings for no real reason except to satisfy himself, one fascinating aspect of his supposed sadism was MacKay’s obsession with the Nazi’s. He reads books like Mein Kampf, he had a poster of Hitler, a bedside photo of Himmler, he made himself a fake SS uniform with jackboots and an Iron Cross, and saying to a friend “if I ruled, I’d exterminate all the useless old people”, it was said (although never verified) he was seen in the streets of Dartford goose-stepping, giving a Nazi salute with a ‘Heil Hitler’. This was just two decades after the end of the World War Two, London was still pockmarked with the ruins of the Blitz, and the trauma still plagued its survivors in a raw naked pain, like an exposed nerve. And yet, he also claimed that he believed in eugenics, he said he was of ‘Aryan’ stock and was ‘racially pure’, even though his hair was black as his mother was Guyanese meaning that he was of mixed race. He was a nobody, a nothing, who society had forgotten, and his crime spree were pointless and petty. So, was it all ploy to draw attention to himself, as were the murders, or the confessions? Mary Hynds was typical of the women that MacKay targeted. Mary Brigid Hynds was born on the 16th of November 1898 in Upper Strangford, a windswept village in a rural inlet overlooking the Irish Sea in what is now Northern Ireland. As the third eldest of ten in a staunch Roman Catholic family, they were working-class but literate, and like many families of that era were burdened by trauma as the First World War turned brave young men into rotting flesh piles. Both of her older brothers fought and died in the Belgian region of Flanders, with Patrick killed in 1914, John in 1917, and now the eldest of eight, Mary did her bit to support the family (like her parents did being farm workers), but having never married or had children, at some point, she moved to London. This is where Mary vanishes from official records, as being a childless spinster who wasn’t allowed her own home or bank account (as that law came two years after her death), instead she lived a hand-to-mouth existence being kept alive by a paltry state pension and living alone in a grotty lodging house. Sources state she was either 73 or 79 when she died, in truth, she was 75, but as a slightly larger lady who didn’t eat particularly well, was fond of the drink, and limped with a crippled leg, although she a solitary figure, she was a well-liked character who the locals of Kentish Town knew only as ‘Molly’. Flo Morton, one of her friends said “she was a quiet inoffensive person who wouldn’t hurt a fly”, which was literally true, as nicknamed ‘the animals’ guardian angel’, Mary spent many hours on park benches feeding the pigeons, she’d leave her door open so the stray cats could sling in for food and warmth, and as a creature of habit, twice a week he ate a modest pub lunch in Busby Place, and enjoying an ale at the Wolsey Arms and Assembly House pubs, she often staggered home a little worse for wear. Everyone who knew her agreed, she was a sweet old lady who was friendly to everyone… …so why was Mary Hynds murdered; was it a robbery, a mistake, or a killing for attention? MacKay’s so-called crime-spree, up to that point, had been nothing short of pathetic; an intermittent splurge of drunkenness, bike theft, bag snatching and smashing up a public loo, he couldn’t hold down a job for more than a few days, and blew the money he stole or was given as dole money on booze. Prior to Heidi’s killing, on the 21st of June 1973 at Northfleet Magistrates Court, MacKay pleaded guilty to cashing in a £30 cheque given to him by Father Crean who he’d met a month before, and having crudely amended it to £80, he was given a two year conditional discharge and agreed to pay it back. By July, with his only job (a cellar assistant at a Pimlico wine merchants) lasting a few days, his mother having kicked him out again of her Gravesend home, and the Cowdrey’s (his surrogate family) also booting him out owing to his bad behaviour, on the 14th of July, he was picked up by the Police because he was so drunk, he was unconscious. Released the next day, he was arrested for throwing bricks into a pedestrian subway and (as an ‘Aryan’) claiming he wanted to ‘kill all Jewish bastards’, said to be in a manic state, he was formally charged with chasing a homeless man with a four-foot-long metal pole. This was seven months after he’d allegedly drowned a vagrant by throwing him off Hungerford Bridge. Five days later and two miles north, Mary Hynds was murdered by someone described as a ‘maniac’. Friday the 20th of July 1973 was as ordinary as any other day for 75-year-old pensioner Mary Hynds; she’d fed the birds, had a modest lunch, a pint or two at the pub, and at 5:30pm, she chatted briefly with Brian Johnson, her neighbour who lived with his wife on the upper floor of this two-storey terrace at 4 Willes Road in Kentish Town, and with Hannah Carter, Brian’s mother-in-law living in the front two rooms of the ground floor, Mary paid £5 a week for a back-bedroom, which was cold and dark. Mary was polite and friendly, but as a solitary lady who kept to herself, rarely made a sound and had few visitors except a social worker, they only knew she was in as she left a lightbulb burning. But as her neighbour Barbara Herman said “she had been burgled twice recently… she seemed to take the attitude that if they wanted to steal £5 from an old lady, they were in a bad way”, and although as a security measure she had nailed the back door shut, she left the front door open for her two pet cats. When questioned, having had his memory refreshed by DCI Harris’ crime scene photos, as drink, drugs, time and the proverbial “white mist” had clouded his recollection, MacKay then recalled Mary’s killing. He stated “I would like to say that when I knocked on her door, my only thought was to get a glass of water”. It hadn’t been a hot summer, if anything it was cool and rainy, but as a tactic he later used to win an old ladies’ trust with sympathy, it was an effective way of getting in, without any forced entry. And although a psychopath who was prone to short bursts of rage, MacKay gave an interesting insight into his warped moral code. He stated “she shuffled away down the passage and came back with the water… It was when I told her that she shouldn’t answer the door to strangers… I just flipped and lost my head… I got hold of her by the elbows and pushed her down the passageway” towards her room. No-one came to her aid, as MacKay recalled “she wasn’t yelling, she seemed in a state of shock”. Said to be drunk during his attacks, MacKay’s description of Mary was predictably vague; “she wore slippers… was late 60s, early 70s… greyish black hair, not very tidy… she seemed to hobble”. And even though she blurred in the myriad of old ladies he’d robbed in a two-year crime spree, he said “there is one thing I remember, and that is the back door… it was black… I couldn’t open it, and I saw it was nailed up”, at which, in front of Robin Clark, MacKay’s solicitor, DCI Harris noted “this is significant”. And it was significant, it was a key piece of evidence which would prove MacKay’s guilt… …as MacKay’s memory of the murder was hazy at best. The next afternoon, with Saturday 21st of July being rent day, Hannah the landlady was worried, and asked Brian her lodger and son-in-law to check on Mary. Brian said “she hadn’t left the rent out, which is due on a Saturday morning and Miss Hynes never used to miss it. She always used to play her radio on a Saturday morning, and I remembered I hadn’t heard the radio”. But maybe she was ill in bed? They knocked, but she didn’t reply. Her front door was locked and the key was nowhere to be found. With no other option, Hannah & Brian went into the back garden, but with her backdoor still nailed shut, they peered in through the slightly dirty back window, and it was then that they saw her body. Like Adele Price & Isabella Griffiths, through a crack in the curtains, initially they thought she’d had a fall, having slumped off her bed onto the floor with all but her legs obscured by an eiderdown, but when ambulance man David Gilhead forced open the window, the true horror of the scene hit them. Although tiny, the room had been ransacked, but given her poverty, it’s unclear if anything was taken. Still fully dressed, she hadn’t been sexual assaulted, which we know wasn’t part of MacKay’s MO, but the body had been moved from where she’d been attacked and partially obscured, which we know was, as it seemed as if her killer had tried to get her into bed as if she had died there, but he had failed. Both her wrists and ankles were bound with a stocking, likely her own, as MacKay never arrived armed to kill. Instead he used whatever came to hand as if each murder was a soured robbery. And described by ambulanceman Eric Talmadge as “not a natural death, she died violently”, having strangled her, a stocking was forced into her throat as if to silence or suffocate her - which MacKay recalled “it’s a bit hazy. I do remember I stuffed stockings into her mouth” - and then, in a short pique of rage, identical to the killing of Father Crean, she was beaten about the face with a block of wood until her head split. It was sadistic and motiveless attack on a lone elderly woman in her own home - the hallmark of Patrick MacKay. It was so savage, Brian recalled “blood was up the walls, the ceiling… and the pillow”. Then, as he would do in later murders, instead of fleeing, he may have sat near the body, sleeping, listening to the radio or feeling depressed, stating “what I normally do is lock the door and take the keys. I’ve got a thing about keys. I usually thrown them away. I don’t remember doing it on this occasion”. Mary’s body was identified by her two younger brothers at St Pancras Mortuary. Her nephew, Michael said “it had a great effect on them… but their way of dealing with it was to not talk about it. It was all too horrific”. Flown back to Northern Ireland, with the coffin inspected by the Army, “one of the soldiers” a veteran “apparently said they had never seen anything like it, and never wanted to again”. Mary was buried Kilclief cemetery in County Down, with her mother, her father, and the two brothers who had died before her. To this day, Michael states “I’m 100 per cent sure that Patrick MacKay did it. I don’t feel anything about him… but I think he should have been convicted as part of the killings he is in prison for… MacKay was mad. You look at the photos of him and you can almost see it in him”. Even the detectives stated that the killer was likely ‘a maniac’, and with MacKay described by Dr Peter Duncan Scott, consultant psychiatrist who observed him for the seven months he was in HMP Brixton’s hospital wing as having “well marked sadistic interests…”, he gave evidence in court that MacKay has a “gross personality disorder, and a continuing need to try to solve emotional problems with violence”. MacKay admitted to him “any man doing a killing enjoys it at the time. It is an animal experience”. MacKay would confess to Mary’s murder, but was he really her killer? The investigation was headed up by Detective Chief Inspector John Harris, and although, there were no fingerprints found at the scene, the Police had a sighting of a potential suspect – “a man in a bright orange sweater was seen climbing on roofs in Willes Road on the day of the murder… we think he may be a totter”, a rag n bone man, “and have been making inquiries in local scrapyards”, detectives said. Compiling a Photofit, he was described as “average height, medium build, with a long face, long nose, thin lips, and light brown brushed forward hair (as if balding)”. In short, nothing like MacKay, again. Similar attacks on elderly women in their own homes in London caught the detectives’ eye, including the murder of 60-year-old spinster Irene Hoye on Old Montague Street in Bethnal Green, East London. On Monday the 23rd of July 1973, just three days later, having been drinking in the pub, this lone lady was strangled in her bedroom with a pair of her own stockings. Sentenced to life at the Old Bailey in March 1974, 36-year-old John Ward, a recently separated father-of-nine had mistakenly broken into the former home of his estranged wife, and drunkenly seeking revenge, instead he’d murdered Irene. The cases weren’t connected. MacKay wasn’t suspected of either. And with Mary’s murder garnering less press attention than the killing of pretty Heidi Mnilk, after a few short months, the case stalled… …until Patrick MacKay confessed “I killed eleven people”, and a unique opportunity arose. On the front page of the Sunday Mirror on 20th of April 1975, it read; “Deputy Assistant Commissioner Ernest Bond, Scotland Yard’s director of operations… ordered detectives to make urgent inquiries based on a multiple murder theory”, linking MacKay to any unsolved murders matching his MO, and stating “originally, there were no obvious grounds to suspect that the murders might be connected…”, but with a “psychopath” willing to admit to eight other murders, his confession could close the case. Openly confessing to being drunk, on drugs, a psychiatric patient, said to be ‘a maniac’, and stating “I have bag snatched and bashed in a lot of old ladies”, he recalled the house, her shuffling walk, asking for water, dragging her in, stuffing stockings in her mouth, taking the keys, and that the back door was nailed shut in what Police described as “an almost photographic description of the murder scene”. And although, unlike with the three killings he was convicted of, his memory was hazy, he said it was only “probable” that he had killed Mary, and that “although I cannot remember the details, I am sure that I, and only I, could have committed this murder. I am positive of that… I flipped and lost my head”. That said, these words were captured in an era before police interviews were recorded on audio tape, so we can only go by what his written statement declares, even though he was an “an inveterate liar”. So, could MacKay have fabricated his testimony using articles from the newspapers? No, as the case was barely covered, even locally. And when it was, in small paragraphs hidden on page 17, Mary’s age and name was wrong, her photo was never issued, her injuries were incorrect, several said she’d been sexually assaulted, her address wasn’t given on this street of 83 houses and 200+ flats and bedsits, and some of the press also incorrectly stated that the killer had left the gas taps on. DCI John Harris also stated they had deliberately kept “this detail of her having stockings in her mouth out of the press”, as the smallest clue can trap a killer. But this was incorrect, as the Sunday Express dated 22nd of July 1973 states “Molly Hinds… was gagged with a stocking stuffed into her mouth”, and in the Sunday Mirror of the same day, “Miss Hynes had… a stocking forced down her throat”. On the 4th of July 1975, at Clerkenwell Magistrates Court, Patrick MacKay, while awaiting trial for the murders of Adele Price, Isabella Griffths & Father Anthony Crean was charged with killing Mary Hynds. And yet he had an iron clad alibi… as on the 15th of July 1973, five days before her murder, while drunk, MacKay was arrested for chasing a homeless man with a four-foot-long metal pole, and was held at Ashford Remand Centre in Kent. At first, he wasn’t a suspect, but owing to his “photographic memory of the crime scene”, Police decided that – owing to staff shortages and a strike - he escaped, travelled 2 hours north to the home of a women he’d never met, killed her taking nothing, and broke back into the remand centre, where no-one noticed he had gone missing for the five hours it would have taken. In a report to the Crown Prosecution Service, DCI Harris admitted “…there is nothing to show that he either legally or illegally left prison… it would be impossible to climb the outer fence…”, yet he believed that MacKay had somehow ditched his prison uniform for his own clothes and walked out of the gate. On the 26th of August 1975, Robin Clark, MacKay’s solicitor wrote to the Director of Public Prosecutions stating that his confession to killing eleven people was officially withdrawn with MacKay stating “there is no evidence to tie me, except statements I made in a fed-up and couldn’t-care-less frame of mind”. But, if he’d lied, how did MacKay have “an almost photographic memory of the murder scene”? The answer was in the statements themselves. When questioned at Canon Row police station about the murder of Mary Hynds, DS John Bland stated he told MacKay “she was murdered by being hit over the head with a piece of wood. After that, a stocking was stuffed into her mouth and I think one was tied around her throat. I must be fair Patrick, this appears identical to the method you used because not only was the body covered, as in the Cheyne Walk job, but the doors were locked and the keys taken away, which as you admit, is your method”. DCI Harris later probed MacKay to be specific; (Harris) “can you remember moving the woman?”, (MacKay) “what do you mean?”, (Harris) “did you try to pick her up and put her in bed?”, (MacKay) “I may have done out of a sense of decency”, (Harris) “do you remember covering her in an eiderdown?”, (Mackay) “no, I can’t remember that”, and it was then, with his memory being woefully hazy, that MacKay asked “have you photographs of the house?”. MacKay later recalled “there is one thing I remember and that is the back door… it was black. I couldn’t open it and I saw it was nailed up”, which DCI Harris said was “significant”. Yet, in the presence of the solicitor, Harris clarified, “I have in the past, and this morning, shown you photographs. Have I ever shown you a photograph with the back door in it?”, at which MacKay stated “no, I don’t think so”. Shown crime scene photos, MacKay initially said “that looks like the house I went to, but I had the impression that it was the last house in the street”, which 4 Willes Road was not. Shown a photo of the rear, MacKay said “that doesn’t ring a bell at all”, and of the bedroom, “no, that means nothing to me”. Yet, when driven to the murder location in a police van, MacKay stated “yes, I can positively say this is the house I went into, there is no doubt at all”, and he was charged with her murder. (Out) Tried at the Old Bailey on three undeniable and easily provable counts of murder – Isabella Griffiths, Adele Price and Father Anthony Crean – the trial itself lasted barely half a day, as the main focus wasn’t his guilt, but whether he should be convicted of murder or manslaughter by diminished responsibility. The murder of Mary Hynds, although both tragic and horrific, was a mere footnote in the proceedings, as detectives were unable to prove his miraculous escape from Ashford Remand Centre, his journey to Kentish Town and any connection to Mary or her lodging at all, so with MacKay’s solicitors stating he would deny killing her if he was tried for her murder, his confession was inadmissible as evidence. As one of the eight murders he confessed to, but just one of the two further murders he was charged with, the killing of Mary Hynds was never brought to trial. It was ‘left on file’, meaning the charge was dropped, MacKay would be (technically) found ‘not guilty’, and the investigation was closed. It can only be reactivated by a sitting Judge if and when evidence is found which could lead to a conviction. At his sentencing, Justice Milmo said of MacKay “you are a highly dangerous man and it is my duty to protect the public”, which was an undeniable fact based on cast iron evidence. He was a psychopath and a sadist, who killed for thrills and subjected his victims to unimaginable pain and fear in their last moments alive. He showed no remorse, except for himself, and was rightfully imprisoned for life. Whether he murdered Mary Hynds or not is unknown. Whether he escaped Ashford Remand Centre to kill her is unprovable. Whether his confession was real or a lie remains a secret only he knows. And whether the detectives deliberately refreshed his memory with photos, and coerced his testimony to wrap up an unsolvable murder by blaming it on a loose-lipped ‘maniac’ with a hazy recall is uncertain. But as a confirmed serial-killer with at least three brutal murders on his hands, why would he confess to eleven killings, only then to deny it? Was it due to drink, drugs, mental illness, or a cry for attention? Part C of ‘Patrick MacKay: Two Sides of a Psychopath’ continues next week, with Part 1 of 4 (covering in detail the killings of Father Crean, Isabella Griffith and Adele Price, as well as MacKay’s life, crimes and trial) available now via as part of this cross-over series with the True Crime Enthusiast podcast. Just search ‘Patrick MacKay: Two Sides of a Psychopath’, or click on the link in the show-notes. The Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast has been researched using the original declassified police investigation files, court records, press reports and as many authentic sources as possible, which are freely available in the public domain, including eye-witness testimony, confessions, autopsy reports, first-hand accounts and independent investigation, where possible. But these documents are only as accurate as those recounting them and recording them, and are always incomplete or full of opinion rather than fact, therefore mistakes and misrepresentations can be made. As stated at the beginning of each episode (and as is clear by the way it is presented) Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast is a 'dramatisation' of the events and not a documentary, therefore a certain amount of dramatic licence, selective characterisation and story-telling (within logical reason and based on extensive research) has been taken to create a fuller picture. It is not a full and complete representation of the case, the people or the investigation, and therefore should not be taken as such. It is also often (for the sake of clarity, speed and the drama) presented from a single person's perspective, usually (but not exclusively) the victim's, and therefore it will contain a certain level of bias and opinion to get across this single perspective, which may not be the overall opinion of those involved or associated. Murder Mile is just one possible retelling of each case. Murder Mile does not set out to cause any harm or distress to those involved, and those who listen to the podcast or read the transcripts provided should be aware that by accessing anything created by Murder Mile (or any source related to any each) that they may discover some details about a person, an incident or the police investigation itself, that they were unaware of.
Five time nominated BEST BRITISH TRUE-CRIME PODCAST at the True Crime Awards, Independent Podcast Award and The British Podcast Awards, and voted 4th Best True-Crime Podcast by This Week, iTunes Top 25 Podcast, Podcast Magazine's Hot 50, The Telegraph's Top 5, Crime & Investigation Top 20 True-Crime Podcasts, also seen on BBC Radio, Sky News, The Guardian and TalkRadio's Podcast of the Week.
This is a ten-part crossover series written and created by Murder Mile and True Crime Enthusiast. Parts A to F (covering the murders that serial killer Patrick MacKay confessed or was suspected of) are available via Murder Mile, and Parts 1 to 4 (covering the murders he was convicted of, as well as his life, his upbringing and his trial is available via the True Crime Enthusiast podcast.
PATRICK MACKAY: TWO SIDES OF A PSYCHOPATH:
This is Part A of F of Patrick MacKay: Two Sides of a Psychopath. . On Sunday the 8th of July 1973, 17-year-old German tourist Heidi Mnilk boarded the 4:57pm train to Hayes at Charing Cross station. At 5:08pm, just 90 seconds outside of London Bridge station, a scream was heard, she was stabbed and her body was thrown onto the tracks at Bermondsey. Her murder has never been solved. But on Thursday 17th of April at Brixton Prison, serial killer Patrick MacKay (awaiting trial for the murders of Adele Price, Isabella Griffith and Father Anthony Crean) confessed to "killing eleven people". One of them, he claimed, was Heidi Mnilk. But did he? This series explores the killings he confessed to, and which he committed.
Part A of F by Murder Mile covers the murder of Heidi Mnilk:
Part 1 of 4 by True Crime Enthusiast covers the murder of Father Anthony Crean:
SOURCES: a selection sourced from various archives:
MUSIC:
UNEDITED TRANSCRIPT: 1st May 2023, Bristol bus station in the south-west of England, 73 year old David Groves casually strolls among the mums, kids and elderly, all rightfully oblivious to this tall vague pensioner. With grey hair, a goatee and glasses, a waterproof jacket, grey jogging bottoms and comfortable trainers, he visits the doctors, buys a newspaper, sips a coffee, chats politely, and then, like everyone else, he heads home. Only home since 2017 has been HMP Leyhill in Gloucestershire, a Category D low-security men’s open prison. Housing low-risk prisoners and offenders nearing the end of their sentence, it has been praised for its rehabilitation of convicts as they rejoin society by providing counselling, training, day-release, they even won an award at the Chelsea Flower Show, which is ironic, given its most infamous inmate. David Groves is “the UK's longest-serving continuous prisoner”. Sentenced on Friday 21st of November 1975 to life with a minimum of 20 years for the brutal murders of 84-year-old Isabella Griffith, 89-year-old Adele Price and 64-year-old priest Father Anthony Crean, he has been described as “sick”, “twisted”, “sadistic” and “cruel”, he has never shown any remorse, his name is often spoken in the same breath as The Yorkshire Ripper and The Moors Murderers, and being dubbed as “one of Britain’s worst serial killers”, since his teens, he’s been diagnosed by psychiatrists as a ‘cold psychopathic killer’. Trapped in a cycle of parole rejection, he’s the killer no-one wants to release, and although his lawyers fought to get him committed to Broadmoor due to ‘diminished responsibility’, declared sane, he knew his crimes were evil as he wasn’t mentally unwell but had a ‘severe psychopathic personality disorder’. David Groves was known as the Monster of Belgravia and the Devil’s Disciple, yet his real name is far more infamous, being a psychotic killer who terrorised elderly ladies of 1970s London and although convicted of those three murders, he confessed and was suspected of as many as eleven, making him possibly one of the Britain’s most prolific serial killers in his two-year-spree – but what’s the truth? Title: Patrick MacKay: Two Sides of a Psychopath – Part A. MacKay’s ‘psychopathic personality’ was formed in an adolescence of neglect, abuse and trauma. Born in 1952 in Park Royal, west London, he was raised in Dartford, Kent, to a violent and drunken Scottish father and a battered Guyanese mother, being witness and victim to assaults like it was normal life. With no good role model to shape his malleable brain, MacKay bullied the weakest, he stole for thrills, he was lonely, abandoned and lashed out in cruel violence, and although his education was broken by stints in borstals, young offenders institutes and mental institutions; he spoke well, he was intelligent, he had a passion for words and storytelling, and a patience to collect stamps and make Air-Fix models. He was bright, bored, angry, and seen as an underachiever, diagnosed as a ‘psychopath’ aged eleven, his early life became a repetitive catalogue of pointlessness, cruelty, sadism and attention-seeking. On the 15th of August 1972, 20-year-old MacKay left Moss Side Psychiatric Hospital in Liverpool for the final time. Being discharged against doctor’s wishes, he was unable to live with his widowed mother in Gravesend, Kent, so moving to London, he slept in hostels, and in his own words “I virtually spent a year on the bottle”, necking a half bottle of vodka and 8 to 10 pints of beer a night, and as a user of amphetamines and cannabis, his memory and judgment was clouded by what he called “a white mist”. The nearest thing he had to family was an auntie in Catford, one in Wandsworth, her friend VI & Bert Cowdry who were like surrogate parents, and an ex-social worker in East Finchley, Reverand Ted Brack. MacKay was always broke, homeless, lost, and unable to hold down a job for more than a few days – like in February 1973, being hired as a cutter serviceman at Imperial Paper Mills, he was fired having only turned up twice, meaning his report card was marked with ‘waste of time… a split personality’ – he was convicted that season of three petty crimes; the burglary of a tobacconists in Greenhithe where he stole cigars and cigarettes, a grocer’s in Dartford having nicked three tins of Old Oak Ham and some Easter eggs as he was hungry, and in May 1973 – in a theft which led to his capture – he stole a cheque from Father Crean, the man he would later murder, and was given a two year conditional discharge. It was all very petty and pointless… then two months later, it is said, he committed his first murder. Terrorising the wealthier parts of west London, across Chelsea and Belgravia, MacKay committed a spree of muggings and robberies on lone elderly widows. Later gaining entry to their homes using his charm, carrying their shopping or asking for ‘a glass of water’, most he stole from, but at least two - Isabella Griffith and Adele Price – he brutally murdered in a short powerful burst of violent rage (some of which he could recall vividly, other parts which were patchy possibly due to drink, drugs, mania or shame) followed by a long period of self-hatred and depression often culminating in a suicide attempt. On Saturday 6th of April 1975, after his arrest for Father Crean’s murder, and with his fingerprint found on a teaspoon in the burgled home of Margaret Diver, Detective Superintendent John Bland didn’t think much of MacKay; a drunk, a junkie, a loser, who stole to feed his habit, had gone too far by killing a priest in a rage, who was currently awaiting trial for stealing old ladies handbags, and now, a murder. On Thursday 17th of April in Brixton Prison, DS Bland expected a ‘no comment’ reply to his questions about this spate of muggings of old ladies in the West End, but MacKay was so forthcoming; he openly admitted to two murders the Police hadn’t connected. Of Adele Price, he calmly said “yes, I did that” providing provable details which hadn’t been made public, and of Isabella Griffith, “yeah, I did that”, with DS Bland recalling “he seemed relieved that at last he was telling someone what he had done”… …but this was not the end of his murderous confession. MacKay sighed and said “all I want to do is to be frank and honest. But before I start, I have got another murder I want to get off my mind. The only trouble is, I don’t know whether he drowned or not… I threw a vagrant off Hungerford Bridge at Waterloo, and I saw the water open up and take him in”. It wasn’t until 1988 that it was standard Police procedure to record all interviews, so that confession was only scribbled in a notebook. Taken to Canon Row Police Station to make a written statement, on Tuesday 22nd of April, although DS Bland had heard word that when asked what he was in prison for, MacKay had bragged to other prisoners in the hospital wing “because I killed eleven people”; some he would confess to, some he was suspected of, three he was convicted of, two he was charged with and others matched a series of unsolved London murders, many of which mirrored his method and motive. Detective Chief Superintendent Bill Ramsey who headed up the investigation stated “it will be at least a week before we can establish if the confession is genuine”, but with three of the eleven (Adele Price, Isabella Griffith and Father Anthony Crean) later proven with so little doubt that even MacKay’s own defence didn’t contest it, the other eight that MacKay was either suspected of or confessed to were… …Heidi Mnilk, Mary Hynds, Stephanie Britton, Christopher Martin, the unnamed homeless man, Leslie Goodman, Sarah Rodmell & Ivy Davies, many of whom may have been his fledgling forays into murder. So, if he had murdered eleven people, not three, was his first killing Heidi Mnilk? Heidi Ann-Marie Mnilk was born on the 12th of November 1955 in Kassel, West Germany, a small but cultural university city being home to the Brothers Grimm and one of Europe's most palatial gardens. As the only child of her father Bruno, who was invalided in the war, his daughter was his everything. Described as blonde, pretty and slim, although a 17-year-old who caught many man’s eye, in truth she wasn’t cocky or brash, but pleasant, shy and quiet, and having saved up her wage as a pharmaceutical apprentice – not as an au-pair as many sources state – on the 2nd of July 1973, Heidi and her friend Doris Thurau arrived in London on a two-week coach trip, and said to be “nice young women”, they shared a back bedroom in the B&B of the travel agent, Bob & Pauline Isaacson in West Wickham, Kent. Sunday the 8th of July 1973 was a typically British summer’s day being cold, wet and cloudy. As a keen photographer, Heidi joined a coach of German sightseers at 9am, taking photos of Big Ben, Piccadilly Circus, Buckingham Palace, and in the afternoon, the girls went shopping in Oxford Street and Soho. Heidi was impossible to lose among the throng of commuters and shoppers, as stylishly dressed in red flared slacks, a red cotton top, a red handbag, black shoes, and a blue and white ¾ length houndstooth checked jacket with a bare midriff, even if he snuck away to take some snaps, you couldn’t miss her. At 4:50pm, having seen the sights, Heidi & Doris entered Charing Cross station on The Strand, and on Platform 2, they boarded the 4:57pm train to Hayes, using their return tickets to West Wickham. But as Doris wanted to smoke and Heidi passionately disliked the smell, Doris recalled “that is why we split on the train. I went to the smoker’s compartment in the middle and Heidi went into a non-smoker”. As an old-fashioned Class 201-207 Thumpers train with eight to ten BR Mark 1 coaches painted in a rich maroon livery, the smoking coaches comprised of seven to eight private compartments with six seats and a sliding door, accessed by a corridor up the right-hand-side, or its own door to the platform. Whereas the non-smoking carriages had no corridor, the only way to access each private compartment was via the platform door, meaning that if Heidi got into trouble, none of the 40 people onboard in her one-quarter-full coach could get into her compartment until the train had stopped at the station, making it a hot-spot for muggings and assaults, which tourists like Heidi wouldn’t have been aware of. At 4:57pm, the train departed Charing Cross, with Heidi sitting in the left-hand window-seat facing front, and as far as we know, no-one else was in her compartment, as it headed to London Bridge. At 5:06pm precisely, it departed London Bridge Station and headed to its next stop, New Cross... …so by 5:08pm, just 90 seconds later, it had picked up speed and was one mile out. In the next private compartment sat two boys, Andrew Lee (17) and Stephen Arnold (16) of Catford. They recalled “there was nothing unusual, until just past London Bridge”, no shouting, no thuds, “then suddenly there were some screams from the compartment behind”. Said to last around 20 seconds, “it sounded like a young woman’s voice. We thought there was just horseplay going on”. But it wasn’t. Suddenly, although the train was moving fast, “the carriage door opened in the next compartment… I saw this sort of red thing flapping about… it hung there for a few moments”, a bright flailing blur against a flash of grey as the train thundered faster, “then it fell onto the tracks. By then, the screams had stopped”. Crashing hard onto the steel rails, at first, they thought someone had lost their luggage, but as it rounded a bend, “there was a mop of something resembling hair… it could have been a body”. Passing the Abbey Street bridge in Bermondsey, Stephen recalled “a man appeared at our window”, up to his waist and peering into their compartment from the outside of the speeding train, “I could see him clearly… he was leaning out and he looked at me… his hair was blown back by the force of the wind. He had this little smirk on his face, as if he was saying ‘oh, it’s all good fun, isn’t it chaps?’”… …but until the train had stopped six minutes later, there was nothing that anyone could do. At 5:14pm, the train pulled into New Cross station. The boys recalled “he got out… he was near enough for us to grab him… he hitched up his trousers and just stands there looking at the two of us. It seemed like hours but it must have been seconds, then he turned and fled through the ticket barrier”. No-one stopped him as his return ticket to New Cross was valid, and nobody else onboard had heard a thing. The boys checked the next compartment which was empty. They reported it to the station staff stating “that man’s just thrown a girl off the train”, but suspecting a prank, senior trainman Uriah Johnson dismissed it and ordered the train onwards, the boys boarded it, and Heidi’s killing wasn’t reported until the boys got home to Catford Bridge and rang the police, “but they didn’t believe us either”. A passing train spotted her body, and reported it, but not before she had been hit by several more. Pathologist, Professor Arthur Mant stated “cuts on her hands showed she had struggled”, injuries to her face and possible strangulation suggested “she may have been unconscious when she was thrown from the train”, and with her cause of death being “a single stab wound to the neck and chest, which pierced her jugular vein” and left little blood in the carriage, she was killed using a five-inch kitchen knife with a brown handle, matching a bloodied blade found 600 feet from the body, two days later. Detective Chief Inspector Tom Parry of Tower Bridge police station, and DCS ‘Bill’ Ramsey who would later head up the investigation into MacKay’s confession, also investigated the murder of Heidi Mnilk. It was well-covered by the press, a reconstruction appeared on Police 5, 80,000 statements taken with 20,000 premises visited, but it remained hindered as 30 of those 40 passengers didn’t come forward. With the train only identified later that day, the slightly-bloodied compartment had already been used by as many as 30 commuters in the intervening hours, meaning the crime-scene was contaminated, and no fingerprints were found, just as there were none on the knife to connect it to a viable culprit. It was described as “a motiveless crime” on a lone young woman. Detectives ruled out robbery as her handbag, purse and gold chain hadn’t been stolen, and although her expensive houndstooth jacket was missing, it could have been taken by the killer, or a passenger, or misplaced in lost property? Sexual assault was dismissed, although maybe it was a failed rape, and revenge couldn’t be proven. Detective Sergeant Prendergast said the man who exited the train at New Cross station was definitely a local as all the tickets collected were for that station and “he was seen exiting the turnstile through a tunnel underneath the railway track… only a local would know about that”. Oddly, the next stop after New Cross was Catford Bridge where the boys got off, and MacKay was then living with his auntie. The boys gave a very detailed description of Heidi’s killer who they had seen twice from just feet away. He was described as 5 foot 6, mid-40s, pointed chin, a thin face, with dark greasy swept-back hair “and his face looked like an Arab, or as if he wasn’t shaved”. He was wearing tatty clothes, “a black or dark grey ill-fitting jacket and trousers, and possibly a red or blue check shirt” and “he appeared to be squinting. He had narrow eyes as if he had bad eyesight”. And with a Photo-Fit published in the papers, Tom Herbert, an ex-docker who lodged with MacKay’s aunts in Catford, positively recognised it as him. On the second day of the investigation, Police interviewed Patrick MacKay, a local drunk with a history of petty theft, but as, back then, assaulting women wasn’t his MO, he was released without charge. So, had the Police released a fledgling killer to kill again? MacKay was a likely suspect; he knew London well, he was local, the next stop was his home, he rode that same route to visit his mother in Gravesend, and admitted to carrying knives. Based on the killings he was convicted of – Adele Price, Isabella Griffith and Father Anthony Crean – there are similarities with Heidi’s murder; as little or nothing was stolen, she was killed by a single stab to the neck or chest, and the knife was casually disposed of, as if the killing meant nothing, or he wanted it to be found. But then, there are dissimilarities which don’t match his known method; as his provable victims were mostly lone elderly widows many of whom were wealthy, not young women who could fight back. He often attacked in houses and behind locked doors, but then, he also struck on streets or doorsteps, and what is this train compartment if it’s not a locked and private space? And although he used knives, he also attacked with a bayonet and an axe, some of whom he stabbed, strangled or bludgeoned. With MacKay nothing is ever consistent, and if this was his first killing, was he still finding his feet? Five months before Heidi’s murder, a similar attack occurred on the same trainline in February 1973. With her traumatic tale retold at Southwark Coroner’s Court, this middle-aged blonde Danish woman, known only as ‘Mrs A’ said she got on at Waterloo (the stop between Charing Cross and London Bridge) and – as with Heidi - a man had entered her non-smoking private compartment, and sat opposite her. They chatted pleasantly at first, as was MacKay’s habit. He asked “are you German”, which she wasn’t but Heidi was. He spat “I hate all Germans especially women”, and pulled out “a five inch kitchen knife with a rivet missing on the handle”, identical to the one reported in the press as used by Heidi’s killer. She recalled “he had a dreadful hate, I thought he was going to stab me… I kept him talking”, he spoke about Spain, Toronto, roses, art, “and he was taking a refresher course in catering to become a chef”, and as the train pulled into London Bridge Station, she seized the moment, and fled for her life. His description was remarkably similar to the man suspected of killing Heidi, and she added “he had a terrible smell of oil and boiled onions. His shoes were spattered with fat” like he worked at a burger stall, “his face was badly pockmarked… his hands were filthy, his hair greasy and he seemed to squint”. After an in-depth investigation which lasted 15 months, on the 30th of October 1974, Dr Arthur Davies of Southwark Coroner’s Court declared “the killer of Heidi Mnlik was a man with a paranoid hatred of German women” and said to be ‘a maniac’, it was determined she was murdered by persons unknown. It’s a case which remains unsolved to his day, but did it mark Patrick MacKay’s first failure to kill? Heidi’s attack wasn’t unique. That trainline was synonymous with assaults on woman to such an extent that they were dubbed the ‘cattle cars’, and by the 1990s, open-plan carriages had become standard. On the 12th of February 1974, a man “early 30s, unkept, Mediterranean, with black brushed back hair” exposed himself to a woman on a train travelling between Catford and Waterloo, he was armed with a knife. We know it probably wasn’t MacKay, as although single, his crimes lacked any sexual element. On the 30th of September 1973, two months after Heidi’s murder, the raped and strangled body of 16-year-old Jacqueline Johns was found beside a railway line by Spicer’s Wharf near Chelsea Bridge. But again, MacKay wasn’t a rapist, and he rarely attacked the young, choosing lone and elderly women. On the 1st of August 1975, Wendy Hall was attacked in a private compartment on the 4:09pm train to Sutton, South London. Stabbed four times in the neck, back and chest, her attacker stole £1, and she survived having pulled the ‘emergency cord’. It matched an attack on a 60-year-old woman travelling from Victoria to Balham, with the man’s face described, as ‘Mrs A’ had, as being “heavily pockmarked”. Only MacKay’s skin wasn’t pockmarked. And on the 4th of January 1977, Kim Taylor was attacked on the 4:58pm train from Norwood to London Bridge, she was stabbed three times in the shoulder and chest, and survived by pulling the comm’s cord. Detectives stated “this stabbing bears all the hallmarks of others in the last 18 months. We believe the same maniac is responsible… but we have not been able to link it to the murder of Heidi Mnilk”. By which time, MacKay had been in prison for two years. Two possible suspects were Allan Pearey, the Bexleyheath Rapist, who from 1968 to 1985 attacked young lone women on trains on that same route, or as they walked home. Or Andreas Diomedous, a knife-wielding paranoid schizophrenic who attacked Ann Clements in May 1974 on a train between Clapham and Battersea Park. Convicted of a boy’s murder, and remains locked-up in Broadmoor. There were many possible suspects, but only one of them had confessed to Heidi’s killing – MacKay. The press reported that in August 1974 “a 30-year-old Covent Garden porter” had confessed and was being questioning by Police, but one week later, he retracted it. This is often confused for MacKay, but he wasn’t 30, he didn’t work in Covent Garden until January 1975, and with no proof of an arrest, it’s likely this is a reference to Alfred Hitchcock’s 1972 film ‘Frenzy’, whose killer is a Covent Garden grocer. MacKay confessed “I killed eleven people”, with Heidi possibly being his first, but when the Police dug deeper into his life, his upbringing and his motives, the evidence didn’t stack up to his boastful claims. The Photo-Fit of Heidi’s attacker, as produced by the boys who saw him in broad daylight from a few feet away, described him as “5 foot 6, mid-40s, pointed chin, oval face, with dark greasy swept-back hair, and squinting like he’d bad eyesight”. ‘Mrs A’, the Dutch woman stated it matched her attacker. But Patrick MacKay was 23, so 20 years younger. 6 foot 2, so half a foot taller. His face wasn’t pock-marked and thin, but clean and oval. And although, Tom Herbert who lodged at MacKay’s aunt’s house stated that the Photo-Fit matched Patrick MacKay, it can’t have done, as they look totally different. When MacKay confessed to ‘eleven murders’, he never mentioned Heidi by name, as why would he know his random stranger’s name, and when he confessed to the proven killing of Isabella Griffith, he asked “you mean Cheyne Walk? Yeah, I did that” as it was the killing’s details that sparked his memory. When quizzed about Heidi’s murder, many details he had gleaned from the newspapers as its coverage was front-page news for months, but when asked to recount the events (as he could in vivid detail in the three killings he was convicted of), MacKay’s memory was often mistaken and sketchy, stating “from what I was told, she was stabbed once in the throat and flung from a speeding train”. But when asked about what he had stolen from Heidi, he knew nothing about her missing houndstooth jacket. Detective Chief Superintendent ‘Bill’ Ramsey later commented, “we are not satisfied he was the killer, as a key clue was the disappearance of Heidi’s raincoat… he showed he knew nothing about this”. It wasn’t the first time he’d potentially lied for his own gain, as when Police investigated the possible drowning of the homeless man by MacKay on Hungerford Bridge, although he stated “I heaved him over… the water sprayed up… he started splashing as though he couldn’t swim… I didn’t care if he sank or not”. Of the three bodies washed up that day, none matched his detailed description of the man, or were attributed to MacKay. So, was he confused, lying, drunk, or was his truth impossible to prove? An ID parade was held at Brixton Prison. Stephen & Andrew, the boys who had seen Heidi’s killer failed to pick him out, as did ‘Mrs A’ the Dutch lady. Yet Detective Sergeant Prendergast would later query if her tale about being attacked by Heidi’s killer was even true, as many of the details she spoke of had clearly been taken from the news coverage, and some details, it later transpired, were complete lies. Several of the officers who interviewed MacKay referred to him as “an inveterate liar”, with DI Hart stating “he lies about trivial matters, even when it is unnecessary. Telling lies is part of his way of life”, so when MacKay went to court charged with murder, he withdrew all eight of those additional killings. He was convicted of three murders, all provable without a shred of doubt in a court of law, and which his defence team wouldn’t contest owing to the weight of evidence. And yet, of those eight killings he confessed to, two of them were strong enough for him to be charged with, and to be used in evidence against him. So was MacKay mistaken when he confessed to Heidi’s murder, as if he didn’t kill her… …why did he lie? Part B of ‘Patrick MacKay: Two Sides of a Psychopath’ continues next week, with Part 1 of 4 (covering in detail the killings of Father Crean, Isabella Griffith and Adele Price, as well as MacKay’s life, crimes and trial) available now via as part of this cross-over series with the True Crime Enthusiast podcast. Just search ‘Patrick MacKay: Two Sides of a Psychopath’, or click on the link in the show-notes. The Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast has been researched using the original declassified police investigation files, court records, press reports and as many authentic sources as possible, which are freely available in the public domain, including eye-witness testimony, confessions, autopsy reports, first-hand accounts and independent investigation, where possible. But these documents are only as accurate as those recounting them and recording them, and are always incomplete or full of opinion rather than fact, therefore mistakes and misrepresentations can be made. As stated at the beginning of each episode (and as is clear by the way it is presented) Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast is a 'dramatisation' of the events and not a documentary, therefore a certain amount of dramatic licence, selective characterisation and story-telling (within logical reason and based on extensive research) has been taken to create a fuller picture. It is not a full and complete representation of the case, the people or the investigation, and therefore should not be taken as such. It is also often (for the sake of clarity, speed and the drama) presented from a single person's perspective, usually (but not exclusively) the victim's, and therefore it will contain a certain level of bias and opinion to get across this single perspective, which may not be the overall opinion of those involved or associated. Murder Mile is just one possible retelling of each case. Murder Mile does not set out to cause any harm or distress to those involved, and those who listen to the podcast or read the transcripts provided should be aware that by accessing anything created by Murder Mile (or any source related to any each) that they may discover some details about a person, an incident or the police investigation itself, that they were unaware of.
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EPISODE THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-THREE: On Monday 15th of February 2010 at 1:30am, Saud Abdulaziz bin Nasser, a 34-year-old Saudi Prince entered Room 312 of The Landmark hotel in Marylebone accompanied by his ever-faithful servant, 32-year-old Bandar. For the second time in so many weeks, he brutally beat his servant, inflicting cuts, bruises, a fractured eye socket, his ear to swell so large it was three times it’s normal size, as well as a brain haemorrhage. But why?
SOURCES: a selection sourced from various archives:
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UNEDITED TRANSCRIPT: What led a Saudi Prince to brutally murder his faithful servant? Find out on Murder Mile. Today, I’m standing outside of The Landmark hotel in Marylebone, NW1; three streets west of the killing of William Raven for a pair of clean underpants, two streets north of the pointless slaughter of sex-worker Marina Koppel, one street south of the crack-fuelled attack on Sharon Pickles, and two roads north of the sadistic gang who used acid to torture their victims - coming soon to Murder Mile. At 222 Marylebone Road stands The Landmark, a five-star luxury hotel covering a whole square block, with 300 rooms, 51 suites, a vast interior courtyard with palm trees, a pianist and a glass roof, and to ensure its clientele need never be sullied by the street-dwelling scum which surround it, it has dainty tea rooms, swanky cocktail bars and award-winning restaurants where you won’t find the footie on the telly, Carling on tap, chips with every meal and complimentary racism – as that is the local ‘spoons. But just because a hotel is posh, it doesn’t mean that its customers are any less desirable or sinister. On the night of Sunday the 14th of February 2010, a Saudi Prince entered the atrium bar, accompanied by his ever-faithful servant. This may sound like a tale from centuries ago, but trust me, it isn’t. They had a few drinks, the Prince was polite to the staff, he tipped well, then headed off to his luxury suite. That night, he sadistically beat his servant to death, and although all the evidence pointed to the Prince being the killer as the door was locked, they weren’t burgled and he received no guests or intruders, the biggest issue in court wasn’t whether he had murdered his servant, but why. As if the truth ever got out about his motive, a second killing could be ordered resulting in the brutal death of the Prince. My name is Michael, I am your tour guide, and this is Murder Mile. Episode 323: The Deadly House of Saud. Across the world, there are 43 sovereign states, being countries with a royal family. In the UK, we have a mere smattering of Princes by birth and marriage; being William and Henry, King Charles’ sons; Louis, George and Archie his grandsons; Richard, Duke of Gloucester, Prince Michael of Kent, and (on paper) James Mountbatten the Earl of Wessex; as well as Prince Edward, Charles’ brother, and unfortunately, for now, as the proverbial black sheep of the family, Prince Andrew, the crowned prince of utter sleaze. Thankfully, all we have is ten pampered pointless nobodies, as it could be much worse? The Sovereign State of Saudi Arabia has an estimated 15,000 Princes, and – just like ours - not all of them are good. Born in 1977, not 1877 or a century earlier as this story may seem, Prince Saud Abdulaziz bin Nasser was born in the Saudi capital of Riyadh to one of the wealthiest, most powerful families in the world in a dynasty of power, money and privilege. In a country of 34 million people with 58,000 millionaires and 15 billionaires, Princes are ten-a-penny in this state, but not all are members of the royal family. Back in 2010, the ‘House of Saud’ was ruled by King Abdullah, the Prince’s maternal grandfather and founder of the modern Saudi state. His mother, Princess Fahda was the King’s daughter, who married her first cousin, Prince Abdulaziz bin Nasser, and they had a son. But Fahda stood out in Saudi Arabia. Unlike many Saudi Princesses raised under the strict cultural austerity and laws which penalise women solely because of their gender, she was a strong leader and forward-thinker with a degree in political science, she studied art in Paris and London, she was well-travelled, erudite, caring, and – in a secretive state like Saudi which is known for its draconian laws, public executions and human rights abuses – she spearheaded many charities and organisations focussed on women’s rights and humanitarian aid. Keen to steer her son away from the ‘House of Saud’ where privilege is seen as a birthright, the poor are treated like dogs, and government positions are handed out based on bloodline not experience, she raised him to be polite, kind and generous, he too studied Political Science at university, and being described as “dashing” like “a cross between Omar Sharif and Nigel Havers”, he was charming Prince. In 2009, aged 33 - possibly to expand his horizons, or maybe to disguise a shameful (and illegal) family secret – the Prince was given a generous annual allowance, and she paid for him to travel the world. Across the autumn of 2009, he stayed in all the best hotels and dined in Michelin-starred restaurants in Milan, Budapest, Prague, Marrakesh and the Maldives, arriving at London Heathrow by December. Unlike the plebs, he bypassed customs due to his diplomatic passport, he was chauffeured across the city by a Saudi embassy driver called Abadi Abadella, and was accompanied by his full-time live-in servant, 32-year-old Bandar Abdulaziz. As a quiet and shy Somali orphan, raised in poverty and adopted by a low ranking civil servant in Jeddah, he was introduced to the Saudi royals, and like an unbelievable fairytale told to every poor orphan, for the last three years, he wasn’t just the Prince’s personal aide, he was also his closest friend and companion on this dream holiday around the world. It was said, the Prince had been raised well by his mother… …unlike so many others, who were a law unto themselves. As feckless man-babies with inexhaustible funds, no responsibility and zero compassion for anyone but themselves, often they believe they’re above the law, flouting customs and their own Islamic faith. On the 23rd of September 2015, five years after the murder, Prince Majed, one of the King’s sons had hosted a debauched drink and drug fuelled ‘party’ at a $37 million mansion in Beverly Hills. According to three women, one being his girlfriend - and another who had alerted the Police having scaled the high walls, bloodied, semi-clad and screaming, having been held captive for three days - Prince Majed had terrorised, humiliated and assaulted them. For his own sick gratification, he had demanded they “lick my entire body” and “fart in my face”, he publicly shamed the staff into stripping so he could “see everyone’s naked pussy”, and was witnessed being masturbated by a man, all while snorting cocaine. When one of his victims pleaded for him to stop, it is said, he shouted “You’re not a woman! You’re nobody! I am a Prince and I’ll do what I want and nobody will do anything to me”, as being high on his own wealth and power, he would “exert emotional and physical abuse on those more vulnerable”. Prince Majed was charged with forced oral copulation, false imprisonment, sexual battery, and he was released the next day on a $300,000 bail, which to him was chump change. Just one month later, the case was dropped owing to “a lack of evidence”, all felony charges were dismissed, and with a civil lawsuit brought against him, his lawyers claimed he had diplomatic immunity from prosecution, which he didn’t. They claimed the allegations were false and ‘a shakedown for money’, which it wasn’t, and a earlier stop-over in New York that month resulted in more women accusing him of sexual assault. He was so arrogant, in the presence of the Police, he told one of the bleeding and terrified women, “tomorrow, I will have a party with you, and you will do everything I want, or I will kill you”. As seems to be an all-too familiar trait, Prince Majed got away with his crimes, not just because of his wealth, but as a high-ranking member of an oil-rich dynasty, they were a key ally in the West’s war on terror. As we know, every royal family has its bad seeds… …but raised better than that, surely Prince Abdulaziz was different? On the 20th of January 2010, two weeks into his visit to London, The Prince checked into The Landmark hotel in Marylebone, a six-floor five-star deluxe hotel in the heart of London’s West End, and although a Saudi Prince, he didn’t stay in the stately Presidential Suite costing a whopping £1500 a night, but in the more affordable £259-a-night Marylebone or Atrium Suite. It had a king-sized bed, a big TV, a lounge, a sofa, and a white marbled bathroom with a walk-in-shower and a deep bath. Every suite came with complimentary bathrobe and slippers for two, and 24-hour room-service and a concierge. His allowance from his mother was modest, so he shared the suite with his friend and servant, Bandar. Room 312 at The Landmark hotel was the Prince’s home-from-home in London, and across those three weeks in this liberal city, the Prince and his servant who he described as his "friend" and “an equal” were regularly seen shopping at Harrods, dining at the best restaurants and partying in the West End. The photos stored on the Prince’s phone were like a centre-spread in celebrity-gossip rag ‘Hello!’, with these two buddies, smiling, dancing and in one snap supping a giant cocktail through two straws. The Prince didn’t have a job or responsibility, so with a girlfriend said to be back in Saudi, it was Bandar’s role to be the Prince’s companion. They stayed up late, they danced, they got drunk (which although forbidden in Islam, here, who was to know?) and they were rarely roused until at least mid-afternoon. The Prince was on holiday, and although he acted like a playboy and wore expensive clothes, the hotel staff stated that (unlike other Princes) he was always polite, charming, well-mannered and generous. By all accounts he was a good prince, and being 6000km from home, he broke some of the laws of his faith (like drinking alcohol), but even here, he knew he had to be careful, being a member of the Saudi royal family who should have been held to a higher standard than most in this Sunni branch of Islam. That said, the three major sins of Islam; shirk, murder and adultery didn’t apply to him; shirk meant to believe in other deities, which he didn’t. Murder, as human life is considered sacred, but everyone said he was a ‘gentleman’. And not being married, he couldn’t commit adultery. But owing to a vague ‘interpretation’ of Sharia Law, he was committing an illegal act with the maximum penalty being death. The Prince, some say, was gay. He denied it vehemently, Saudi representatives stonewalled the investigation, and his lawyers fought to stop any details about his homosexuality from being revealed in the press or this public trial, arguing that it should be “held behind closed doors”. But his money, his power or his immunity meant nothing. Professor Gregory Gause of the University of Vermont stated in court "in Saudi, homosexuality is extremely shameful… it's a closeted country. But for young Saudi men, contact with the opposite sex is extremely difficult, so there might be a temptation to experiment before marriage", and given their archaic laws, “if he returns, he faces the possibility of execution because being gay is a capital offence”. Even Jonathan Laidlaw, QC for the prosecution agreed “the country in which the act takes place has little relevance under Sharia Law… (so) keeping back his homosexuality might in other circumstances, because of the cultural background perhaps, be explained away by embarrassment, or indeed, fear”. But the evidence of his lifestyle was glaring. The barman at the Sanderson Hotel told the Police that the Prince “flirted with him”. In his hotel room was the 2009 Spartacus International Gay Guide full of details of gay-safe clubs and rent boys. On the Prince’s laptop he had searched hundreds of gay websites. And – although that could all be speculative – he ordered, paid for and entertained a gay masseuse and two male gay escorts in his hotel suite. Pablo Silva, a Brazilian part-time prostitute who performed sex acts on the Prince to pay for his maths doctorate, stated in court, “he was a very polite and well-brought up person. I was very well treated and I felt so comfortable… I did the massage and was free to leave”, being paid in crisp £50 notes. But it wasn’t just the Prince who was gay, as his servant, Bandar, was more than just a ‘compassion’. Hotel porter at The Landmark, Dobromir Dimitrov stated “they were a gay couple”. They ate together, were never apart and even though the Prince could afford a second room, they shared the suite’s bed. At his arrest, on the Prince’s phone were stored hundreds of sexually explicit photographs of the two of them, in “compromising" positions, with the Prince as the dominant and Bandar as the subordinate. So, was this why the Prince was paid by his mother to take a four month holiday… …was it to expand his culturally horizons, or to hide a shameful (and illegal) secret? It could have been the overwhelming weight of hiding his true self that led the Prince to blame his faithful manservant, the man he loved for his brutal actions, or deep down, the Prince could have been as arrogant, self-obsessed and sadistic as any other prince? But we shall never know the truth. The Prosecution described the case as “as an example of how misleading some appearances can be… as beneath the surface, this was a deeply abusive relationship which the (Prince) exploited”. In public, he was a good prince who was “friends” and “equals” with an orphan whose life he had changed, but behind closed doors, he was a bad prince who treated his friend, companion and ‘lover’ like a nobody. Bandar was quiet and shy, he knew his place, and never spoke-up unless the Prince instructed him to. When they travelled, the Prince flew in business class, with his servant in economy. And although that may seem like royal protocol, sometimes they shared the King-sized bed in Room 312, cuddling and spooning like a loving couple, and other times, like a lowly dog, Bandar was made to sleep on the floor. Jonathan Laidlaw QC, prosecuting described it as a "master-servant relationship for the Prince’s own personal gratification", with John Kelsey-Fry QC, defending, stating "whether Bandar was a slave”, as the hotel porter had stated, “or a servant, an aide, a companion, a friend - or for that matter, a lover - whatever that relationship was, (he) must live with the fact that he is responsible for Bandar's death”. Both sides agreed that the Prince was guilty of Bandar’s demise but to what extreme? His defence said it was nothing more than manslaughter, a crime which many Princes across the centuries had pleaded guilty to having beaten their servant to death when they were drunk, or they’d served their purpose. Yet the prosecution showed there were three sides to these assaults; physical, emotional and sexual. On Friday 22nd of January 2010 at 4:03am, three weeks before the murder, the Prince and his servant had enjoyed a night as ordinary as any other; they had dined at a swanky restaurant, sank a few flutes of champagne and necked several shots of ‘sex on the beach’ cocktails in the hotel bar, the Prince had tipped the staff well and wished them all a pleasant night. But as they entered the gold-lined mirror-covered lift at The Landmark hotel and rose up to their third floor suite, in a split second, he turned. The lift’s CCTV recorded it all, as from 4:03am and 26 seconds to 4:04am and 18 seconds, the Prince unleased a violent and unprovoked attack on Bandar. Punching and kicking with all his fury, “with the most chilling aspect”, Judge Bean stated “is that (Bandar)… was so subservient to (the Prince) that he put up no resistance at all, being treated as a human punchbag”, as without recourse, he was beaten. In that blistering 52 second attack, Bandar suffered multiple cuts, bruises, a swollen left eye, and an injury to his left ear, so horrific, it swelled to three times its size, and after, he meekly walked after his abusive master like a broken man, a shell of his former self, with many describing "how frightened he looked, how fragile he appeared, how timid he seemed", yet no-one would dare to upset the Prince. It wasn’t until seven days that a doctor was summoned to tend to Bandar’s wounds, having been given a feeble excuse by the Prince, but by then, his ear was “beyond medical treatment” and as the autopsy would suggest, being beaten not once, but over several weeks, his brain had already haemorrhaged. Not that the Prince cared… as three days before he beat Bandar to death, on Friday 12th of February at 1:30am, as his swollen and broken servant lay weakly on the nearby sofa, the Prince hired Louis Szikora, a masseuse to give him a naked and oiled-up massage known as a ‘Valentine’ and a ‘Bronco’. As before, the Prince only ever thought about himself… …and although Bandar was dying, a final beating was yet to come. Sunday 14th of February 2010, Valentine’s Day, Scalini’s Italian restaurant in Knightsbridge, the brutal Prince and his timid lover sat surrounded by love hearts and kissing couples, the air tense with friction. Bandar said nothing all night, his head bowed, with the staff stating “he looked like he’d been beaten up”, which was exactly what happened when the Prince got him outside, as captured on the cameras. By 11pm, although Bandar just wanted to sleep as his head thumped and his face ached, as was the job he was paid to do, he sat in the atrium bar at The Landmark hotel, as wilted as an old lettuce leaf, as the Prince flirted with the handsome barman and necked back drink-after-drink until last orders. At 1:30am, they again entered the gold-lined mirror-covered lift, and as before, unprovoked and in a split second the Prince snapped. As it rose up to the third floor, he unleashed a blistering attack of 37 punches and kicks with his full force, splitting his servant’s lip and breaking his teeth, yet Bandar never raised a hand to defend himself. As the Prosecution stated "he was so worn down, so subservient and submissive that Bandar had become that he was incapable of any resistance”. It was said, “he let the Prince kill him”, and with his brain bleeding, the damage was already done, but the attack didn’t stop. The door was closed to Room 312, and what happened within will never be known. A while later, a resident heard raised voices, furniture knocked over, then “a dull thud” from above, as an assault, both physical, mental and sexual rained down on the broken man. Justice Bean stated “Bandar was vulnerable, entirely subjugated to your will… which you exploited ruthlessly”, as with injuries to his eyes, teeth, ribs and stomach, for a kinky thrill, the Prince bit him so hard on both cheeks, he almost detached it, and then strangled him with his hands, as if to get himself off with his power. It was the cruel culmination of this master/slave relationship, which a sexual sadist may enjoy, but not having a choice and after weeks of being mercilessly beaten, Bandar was too weak to survive it. The Judge later stated “I cannot be sure that you intended to kill your victim. I think the most likely explanation is that you could not care less whether you killed him or not”. Bandar meant nothing to him, he was a nobody, he wasn’t a person, a friend, or a lover, he was an orphan, he was disposable. And being a typical Saudi Prince, in a crisis like this, he only thought was about himself. He didn’t call an ambulance, instead, he spent twelve hours on the phone to an unnamed Saudi trying to work out how to hide his crime. He dragged the body to the bed to (bafflingly) make it look like he’d died in his sleep, and ordered from room service, milk and bottled water to try to hide the bloodstains, with “his concealing of the sexual aspect to his abuse of the victim being for more sinister reasons". 12 hours later, at roughly 3pm, it was the Prince’s chauffeur who called the paramedics, as apparently, his boss was too traumatised, having found him dead in his bed and stiff with rigor mortis. His injuries were blamed on a fanciful mugging three weeks earlier on Edgware Road. And although the Prince was “helpful”, to Detective Chief Inspector McFarlane, the evidence against him was overwhelming. The Prince denied being gay, but they shared a bed, and his semen was found on Bandar’s underpants. His servant’s injuries were both old and fresh, physical and sexual, as depicted in the sadistic sexual photographs stored on the Prince’s phone for his own gratification. And CCTV footage from the hotel’s lift showed a series of brutal attacks by the Prince that night, as well as in the days and weeks before. DCI McFarlane said: "he used his power, money and authority over Bandar to abuse him…”, and when arrested at Paddington Green police station on the charge of GBH and murder, a huge wall of silence soon descended on the investigation, as the secretive ‘House of Saud’ slammed every possible door. The Saudi Embassy claimed that he had diplomatic status in Britain and was immune from prosecution, which he wasn’t. The Detectives requests for information via Interpol to the Saudis went un-replied, so they had no background on the Prince, his servant, or whether this killer had a history of violence. Held at Belmarsh, one of Britain’s toughest Category A Prisons, often dubbed ‘Monster Mansion’, for fear of sparking a diplomatic incident with his oil-rich family, he received ‘special treatment’; with staff were ordered to knock on his door before entering, hand deliver his post, address him as ‘your royal highness’ and ‘sir’, and he was protected from other prisoners, especially the Islamic fundamentalists. The Prince admitted he’d assaulted his servant and this led to his manslaughter, but he denied murder, and he and his lawyer vehemently denied he was gay, fighting to keep it out of the press and the trial. As his barrister, John Kelsey-Fry QC argued that “homosexual acts were a mortal sin under Islamic law” and “he could face execution in his native Saudi Arabia”. Jonathan Laidlaw QC, for the prosecution argued “if convicted… he would be able to claim asylum in Britain by arguing that his life was in danger, whether he was gay or not”, but “it wasn’t for the defendant to edit the prosecution’s evidence". Yet as Christoph Wilcke of Human Rights Watch said “a Prince in Saudi is immune from court action”. He had wealth, power and influence which could change all the rules... …but being seen as a flight risk, the Prince was denied bail. (Out) The trail began at the Old Bailey on Monday 4th of October 2010, before Judge David Bean. Deemed vital to understand his motive, even though the Prince pleaded not guilty to murder, but guilty to the lesser charge of manslaughter, the details of their homosexual relationship became key to the trial. As was his constitutional right, but seen as the epitome of this royal’s supreme arrogance at this court, this lowly judge and a jury of commoners who would decide his fate, the Prince didn’t give evidence. On Monday the 18th of October, having been deliberated by a jury of seven men and five women, after 95 minutes, the Prince was found guilty of grievous bodily harm with intent and murder. Two days later, his father Prince Abdulaziz watched from the gallery as his son was sentenced to life, meaning he’ll have to spend a minimum of twenty years in a British prison before he’s deported back to Saudi. Having lambasted him for “telling a pack of lies” to hide his crime, Judge Bean remarked “It would be wrong for me to sentence you either more severely or more leniently because of your membership of the Saudi royal family. No one in this country is above the law”, but the real punishment was yet to come. A Saudi expert stated "Irrespective of the court verdict, his humiliation has already taken place. A family council will have been held”, and to hit him where it hurts”, “he will have his money cut off." Prince Saud Abdulaziz bin Nasser served some of his sentence on the notorious D-Wing of Wakefield Prison in cell D339, surrounded by rapists and killers, but again, the red carpet was rolled out for him. He was protected, he lived well, and on Monday the 18th of March 2013, three years later, as part of a deal by British officials, he was allowed to go home as part of prisoner swap between Britain and Saudi Arabia. It is uncertain (as is the law) if he served the rest of his sentence, or where he is now. The Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast has been researched using the original declassified police investigation files, court records, press reports and as many authentic sources as possible, which are freely available in the public domain, including eye-witness testimony, confessions, autopsy reports, first-hand accounts and independent investigation, where possible. But these documents are only as accurate as those recounting them and recording them, and are always incomplete or full of opinion rather than fact, therefore mistakes and misrepresentations can be made. As stated at the beginning of each episode (and as is clear by the way it is presented) Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast is a 'dramatisation' of the events and not a documentary, therefore a certain amount of dramatic licence, selective characterisation and story-telling (within logical reason and based on extensive research) has been taken to create a fuller picture. It is not a full and complete representation of the case, the people or the investigation, and therefore should not be taken as such. It is also often (for the sake of clarity, speed and the drama) presented from a single person's perspective, usually (but not exclusively) the victim's, and therefore it will contain a certain level of bias and opinion to get across this single perspective, which may not be the overall opinion of those involved or associated. Murder Mile is just one possible retelling of each case. Murder Mile does not set out to cause any harm or distress to those involved, and those who listen to the podcast or read the transcripts provided should be aware that by accessing anything created by Murder Mile (or any source related to any each) that they may discover some details about a person, an incident or the police investigation itself, that they were unaware of. |
AuthorMichael J Buchanan-Dunne is a crime writer, podcaster of Murder Mile UK True Crime and creator of true-crime TV series. 
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