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EPISODE THIRTY-ONE

Episode Thirty One: The Blackout Ripper Part 7: On Friday 13th February 1942, Gordon Frederick Cummins was arrested for assault, and as the evidence mounted, it became clear that to the Police that in their cells was The Blackout Ripper. But could they prove it, and could they make him confess to his crimes?

• Date: Friday 13th February 1942
  
• Victims: 6 (Evelyn Hamilton, Evelyn Oatley, Margaret Florence Lowe, Doris Elizabeth Jouanett, Greta Hayward and Kathryn Mulcahy)
  
• Culprit: The Blackout Ripper
  

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THE LOCATIONS

THE BLACKOUT RIPPER Part 7 – The Trial and Execution (“Why Did He Do It?”)

INTRO: On Friday 13th February 1942, 28 year old Royal Air Force air-cadet Gordon Frederick Cummins (a married man with no prior convictions) was arrested and charged with causing grievous bodily harm to 30 year old Greta Haywood in a suspected robbery in a back street just off Piccadilly Circus.

Faced with insurmountable evidence; including an accurate description which identified Cummins as her attacker (having had drinks with him barely an hour before), a corroborated witness statement by the man who had come to her aide, her home telephone number written in her handwriting which was found inside his grate-coat pocket, and his military issued gas-respirator discovered at the scene of the crime inside which he had written his RAF serial number - 525987 - a number so unique, it led the Police directly to Cummins; who apologised, feigned memory loss, blamed the incident on drink and would be remanded in custody at Brixton Prison until his court appearance.

With the trial being a legal formality, no loose ends to tie-up and the investigation into the attack on Greta Haywood being short, neat and complete, the Metropolitan Police could focus their efforts on more pressing matters, such as murder.

As on two consecutive days, on two different streets in London’s West End, two unrelated women (Evelyn Hamilton and Evelyn Oatley) had been strangled, mutilated and posed by a serial sexual sadist, in two sickening and unnervingly similar attacks. With their attacker’s fingerprints not on record, no eye-witnesses to either murder and the victim’s last known movements being uncertain, the Police knew they had to catch him quick before he struck again…

…but little did they know that he had already murdered two others women (Margaret Florence Lowe and Doris Jouanett), whose bodies were yet to be discovered, and that the Police had already caught The Blackout Ripper.

My name is Michael. I am your tour-guide. This is Murder Mile. And I present to you, part seven of the full, true and untold story of The Blackout Ripper.

SCRIPT: Today, I’m standing outside of the Central Criminal Court, more affectionately known as The Old Bailey, which stands on the medieval grounds of the infamous execution site of Newgate Prison, on the junction of Holborn Viaduct and Newgate Street. Destroyed by fire and rebuilt between 1902 and 1907, The (new) Old Bailey is a stunning Georgian court-house made from sculpted blocks of pale Portland stone, designed in an imposing neo-Baroque style, and stood atop its 67 foot domed roof is a shimmering bronze statue of Lady Justice; a beacon of truth, with a sword in her left hand, scales in her right, and although she’s supposed to be blindfolded (as justice is meant to be blind), Lady Justice isn’t, as apparently, in the eyes of its sculptor, all ladies are fair, honest and unbiased. (snigger)

And although, as Britain’s most high-profile court, The Old Bailey has hosted such sensational murder trials as Dr Crippen, Kray Twins, Ruth Ellis and the Yorkshire Ripper, today its oak-panelled chambers mostly echo to the sounds of big business ducking hefty tax bills, failed pop-stars insisting they only snort sherbet (having recently been diagnosed with a severe sugar addiction), billionaires paying for the privilege to build a penis-shaped penthouse which overlooks Buckingham Palace (having previously been denied a passport) and undeniably dull TV nobodies supressing salacious stories about their nightly love sessions with a royal, a tub of butter, a ring-piece and a large root vegetable.

But it was here, on Monday 27th April 1942, in the bomb-damaged remains of The Old Bailey, that London’s most infamous spree-killer would be tried for murder. (Interstitial)

As Gordon Frederick Cummins sat in his prison cell, smoking and smirking, something just didn’t sit right with Detective Inspector Clarence Jeffrey, as although the assault on Greta Haywood was clear-cut, several unnervingly similar elements of the case sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Although the attack took place at night and in private, which many in the West End do, Cummins stole cash from Greta’s handbag, and yet (according to her testimony) his wallet was stuffed full with close to thirty £1 notes, an amount that was considerably more than his fortnightly wage.

During the unprovoked assault on Greta, he didn’t shove, kick, punch, or even threaten her with a weapon, instead he strangled her with his left hand - a slow and sadistic method of attack, rarely used by robbers and muggers, which is more akin to murderers and rapists – and across his middle fingers were the bloody scabs of an injury, easily more than a few hours old, but most probably a few days.

And upon his arrest, not only did Cummins have in his possession a gold wrist-watch, a silver cigarette case and a greeny-blue comb with several teeth missing, none of which he said he owned, had seen before, or could account as to why they were found in his pockets, but (in the bright lights of West End Central police station) several blood splashes were visible on his brown shirt and blue tunic, and although she was bruised and unconscious, Greta Hayward didn’t bleed. So whose was the blood?

On the morning of Friday 13th February 1942, at around the time that Cummins was arrested, feisty Paddington prostitute Kathryn Mulcahy was examined by Dr Alexander Baldie who confirmed that her injuries were consistent with strangulation. Giving the Police a detailed description of her attacker, which was corroborated by her neighbours (Agnes Morris and Kitty McQuillan) and exactly matched Gordon Frederick Cummins, having handed-in the missing blue belt to his RAF tunic, on which were two specks of blood, feeling that the assaults on Greta Haywood and Kathryn Mulcahy required further investigation, they were escalated to Chief Inspector Edward Greeno, one of the West End’s most senior detectives, who also headed up the murder investigation of Evelyn Hamilton and Evelyn Oatley.

But before Chief Inspector Greeno could even begin to consider Cummins as a viable suspect to two assaults and two unnervingly similar murders, two more bodies would be found.

At 4:30pm, having broken down the locked bedroom door of flat 4 at 9/10 Gosfield Street, Detective Sergeant Leonard Blacktop discovered 43 year old Margaret Florence Lowe; her left-handed attacker had strangled her, posed the body, mutilated her using a variety of readily available household objects, and (although rape hadn’t occurred) he had violated her with a candle. Cash was taken, personal items were stolen and once again no-one saw her murder, or her murderer.

And even though Superintendent Frederick Cherrill of Scotland Yard’s Print Bureau had found three sets of his fingerprints; one on the base of the candlestick, one on a bottle in the kitchen and one on the half full glass of stout, which Margaret and her killer had shared, which he had then left on the mantelpiece, he couldn’t be identified as (with Cummins having been arrested for the first time, that very morning and the assault charge still pending) his fingerprints had yet to be put on file.

Then, at 7:50pm, having broken down the locked bedroom of flat 1 at 187 Sussex Gardens, PC Payne discovered 32 year old Doris Elizabeth Jouanett; her left-handed attacker had strangled her, posed the body and mutilated her using a variety of readily available household objects, but (this time) he hadn’t raped or violated her, as through sheer fear, she had wet herself. Cash was taken, personal items were stolen and once again no-one saw her murder, or her murderer.

And although no fingerprints were found, Home Office chief pathologist Sir Bernard Spilsbury, who conducted all four autopsies on Evelyn Hamilton, Evelyn Oatley, Margaret Florence Lowe and Doris Jouanett, confirmed that it was highly likely that all four murders had been committed by one man.

There was no denying it, London’s West End was in the grip of a serial sexual sadist and spree-killer, who had murdered four women in just four days, and (with the press getting wind of the story) the Police had to catch The Blackout Ripper before he struck again. But Chief Inspector Greeno already had a prime suspect in his sights and – better still – he already had him locked-up in prison.

On Saturday 14th February 1942, Detective Inspector Freshney interviewed Cummins at Brixton Prison to ascertain his whereabouts between Sunday 8th and Thursday 12th February, and although the prisoner appeared pleasant, charming and helpful, his answers were deliberately vague and evasive.

In summary, he stated that these were his movements:

(Typewriter) Sunday 8th February (the night that Evelyn Hamilton was murdered): Cummins visited his wife in Barnes (South West London), said goodbye to her at 6pm, took a bus and tube to Baker Street, headed to his flat at St James Court and was in bed by 10pm. There is no mention of Maison Lyonese, Marble Arch or Montagu Place in his statement.

(Typewriter) Monday 9th February (the night that Evelyn Oatley was murdered): being on duty all day, he left his flat just after 6pm, headed into Piccadilly with a red-headed corporal, he got drunk, met two prostitutes (later identified Laura Denmark and Molly DeSantos-Alves) and returned back to his flat after midnight. Although partially true, there is no mention of Wardour Street in his statement.

(Typewriter) Tuesday 10th February (no known murders were committed by The Blackout Ripper that night): but being on duty all day, he finished at 6pm, went to the YMCA bar, and was in bed by 9:30pm.

(Typewriter) Wednesday 11th February (the night Margaret Florence Lowe was murdered): being on duty all day, he finished at 6pm, went to the YMCA bar, and was in bed by 9:30pm. There is no mention of Piccadilly Circus, Soho or Gosfield Street in his statement.

(Typewriter) Thursday 12th February (the night of Doris Jouanett’s murder, and the attacks on Greta Haywood and Kathryn Mulcahy): being on duty all day, he left his flat just after 6pm, headed to the Volunteer public house by Baker Street with a red-headed corporal, got drunk, headed into Piccadilly, met Greta Haywood at Brasserie Universalle, but as he doesn’t remember much after that, he ended-up in bed with an unknown prostitute in Paddington (believed to be Doreen Lytton), arrived back at Abbey Lodge at 4:30am and was detained by the Orderly Corporal prior to the arrival of the police.

In his statement, Cummins deliberately admitted only to being in the places he knew he’d been seen, he avoids any reference to the murder locations, and by repeatedly stating that he returned to his billets before curfew on all other nights, with all of the air-cadets at Abbey Lodge and St James Close being unfamiliar with each other’s names, faces and movements (having met barely one week before), he knew that the chance of anyone accurately confirming his precise whereabouts across that whole week, in a major metropolitan city, at war-time and during the blackout, would be slim.

With an incomplete timeline and no witnesses to accurately corroborate his whereabouts, the Police were relying on one vital piece of evidence to either confirm or deny his story – the log-book.

As an active military instillation working under tight war-time conditions, the Royal Air Force dictated that no person was permitted to leave his or her station (whether at Abbey Lodge or St James Close) without signing in or out in the log-book first, using their name, rank and serial number, all of which was cross-checked using their military ID card in a visual inspection by an armed sentry.
It was supposed to be a fool-proof system, but with security amongst the cadets being lax – with many airmen signing in/out for each other, stuffing their bedsheets with clothes to thwart the midnight bed-check and accessing their flats via an often unguarded fire escape which led directly from the ground-floor – often the logbook (into which you could write in either pen or pencil) was incomplete.

When Detective Inspector Freshney examined each page of the log-book for Cummins’ whereabouts, his heart almost stopped dead: the page for Saturday 7th February had been torn-out, the page for Sunday 8th had no entry for Cummins, on Monday 9th he had signed out at 18:20 but never signed in, the pages for Tuesday 10th February and Wednesday 11th February had no entry for Cummins at all, and on Thursday 12th February he had signed out at 18:29, but never signed in.

Wherever Gordon Frederick Cummins was, during that week, was a mystery, which couldn’t be unravelled by relying on eye-witness testimony or military records. And so far, in terms of conviction, the Police had a lot of circumstantial evidence, but very little of which would stick.

With Cummins almost certain to be charged with causing the grievous bodily harm of Greta Haywood, the Police’s next steps were to confirm that Cummins (on the same night) had attacked Kathryn Mulcahy, to prove that both attacks were connected, and that this left-hander was a serial strangler.

And no matter how small, slim or seemingly insignificant, the over-worked and under-staffed detectives of the Metropolitan Police had to scrutinise every single piece of evidence they had, starting with his clothes, the spare gas-respirator and his money.

On Sunday 15th February, Cummins’ Royal Air Force uniform – consisting of a brown shirt, brown tie, long grate coat, blue woollen side-cap, blue trousers, blue tunic and the misplaced blue belt – were removed from Brixton Prison, and having spotted thirteen small blood stains on the shirt and belt, they were sent to the Police Laboratory in Hendon for an examination, which would take four days.

Having traced Paddington prostitute Doreen Lytton, she confirmed she had met Cummins in Piccadilly at roughly 2am on Friday 13th February, had gone back to her flat in Polygon Mews, and that she had given him her spare gas-respirator having found it the Saturday before. With its original owner having inked his army serial number of 823863 inside the gas-mask, Police confirmed it belonged to Gunner Aubrey John King of the 96th Field Regiment, who had lost it back in November 1941, and was stationed in Clacton-on-Sea, 70 miles away, during the full duration of the murders, ruling him out as a suspect.

Upon his arrest, Cummins had £10 in his possession (£2 in his wallet, £8 in the spare gas-respirator) but also, that evening he had given Kathryn Mulcahy ten £1 notes; £2 on Regent Street, £3 in the taxi and £5 as an apology for attempting to strangle her, which she handed into the Police as evidence.

According to the paymaster’s records (which - unlike the log-book at Abbey Lodge - was the epitome of military precision), Cummins received his fortnightly wage of £12 on Saturday 1st February, which was distributed by Pilot Officer John Rowan from a fresh block of 500 £1 notes that he had withdrawn from the bank that day, meaning the notes serial-numbers were all in an unbroken sequential order.

On Sunday 8th February, six days before his next pay-day, with Cummins being broke he was only able to borrow £1 off his wife, but by Monday 9th, Felix Sands Lebron Johnson (the red-headed corporal who Cummins treated to pints and whiskies, that night in Piccadilly) noted he had £19 on him. And yet, Cummins had no savings, no loans, no debts owing, no inheritance and no other source of funds.

With the paymaster having distributed each wage in alphabetical order, Pilot Officer Rowan checked the remaining bank notes of any cadet whose surname began with the letters b, c and d, and was able to accurately determine what the serial numbers of Cummins’ bank-notes would have been.

The Police cross-checked the serial-numbers of the bank notes in evidence and confirmed that, of his original £12 wage; one £1 note was found in the bundle of eight which Cummins had stashed inside the spare gas-respirator (along with the gold watch), two £1 notes were given to Kathryn Mulcahy and a further two £1 notes were found in the daily takings at Brasserie Universalle and the Salted Almond.

Without a shred of doubt, the Police could prove that Cummins had strangled two women - Greta Haywood and Kathryn Mulcahy - on the same night, now they just needed to piece together a picture of his movements that week, and prove that Gordon Frederick Cummins was The Blackout Ripper.

At 6:30pm on Saturday 14th February 1942, Detective Sergeant Leonard Crawford searched flat 27 at St James Close in Regent’s Park. On his bunk in room b, he found Cummins’ kitbag which was marked with his rank and surname - ‘LAC Cummins’ – and his spare blue tunic which was missing a blue belt, in the left pocket of which was his identity discs (etched with his serial number of 525987) and in his right breast pocket, DS Crawford found a black fountain pen, engraved with the initials of ‘DJ’.

On a hunch, Chief Inspector Greeno asked the victim’s next of kin to identify three personal items found in Cummins possession; Margaret Florence Lowe’s 15 year old daughter Barbara confirmed that the silver cigarette case was her mother’s, and Henri Jouanett, Doris’ husband identified the greeny-blue comb with several teeth missing as Doris’, as well as the gold wrist-watch, which he had brought in France in 1927 and had gifted it to his wife on their wedding anniversary just four years prior.

Within just three days, Police had conclusively linked Cummins to two stranglings and three murders, within streets of each other on London’s West End and the evidence against him was escalating.

Eager to cross-check his whereabouts, on Monday 16th February, Chief Inspector Greeno interviewed Cummins at Brixton Prison, stating “I’m conducting an enquiry into the murder of three women”, and once again, although the prisoner was pleasant, charming and helpful, his answers were deliberately vague and evasive.

Keeping a straight face as he calmly toked on a smoke, Cummins denied he’d ever been to Gosfield Street or Sussex Gardens, denied going to any flat with a West End prostitute (even though he’d previously admitted he had had sex with both Laura Denmark and Doreen Lytton) and denied he had ever seen the black fountain pen, the gold watch or the silver cigarette case before, and yet, strangely, he admitted that Doris Jouanett’s broken greeny-blue comb was his, even though it wasn’t.

And once again, confirming that his statement was true and accurate, he signed it with his left hand, as across his middle fingers were a series of bloody scabs, all at least one week old.

Having noticed that his scuffed black boots made an unusually flat sound as he walked, Chief Inspector Greeno asked “Are those your RAF boots?”, to which Cummins nodded, grinned and removed his size 8’s. Now, whether the Police had found his footprints at either crime scene was irrelevant, as (during the full hour that Cummins was left unsupervised in his flat, surrounded by sleeping airmen) in an attempt to outwit the Police, he had crudely cut-off the rubber soles of his RAF boots, having hastily disposed of them and gave no explanation why.

With the interview over, Chief Inspector Greeno stated to Cummins that “tomorrow, on Tuesday 17th February 1942, you will be brought to Bow Street Magistrates Court and charged with murder”. Remaining calm, composed and almost cocky, Cummins replied “am I to be charged with murder? Oh…”, only to casually enquire “how many women did you say?”, to which Greeno replied “three”, and Cummins was led away to his cell, a smug grin spread across his face, knowing there were four.

On Tuesday 17th February at 10am, at the back of Bow Street Magistrates Court, Gordon Frederick Cummins was charged with the murder of Doris Jouanett, he was cautioned but made no reply.

As part of the formal process, Superintendent Frederick Cherrill of Scotland Yard’s print bureau took Cummins’ fingerprints, and compared them to the left thumbprint found on Evelyn Oatley compact mirror, the left little finger found on her can-opener, and the left index finger found on the bottle and the glass of stout he had shared with Margaret Florence Lowe, all of which were a perfect match.

And with Dr Davidson of Hendon Police Laboratory confirming that the thirteen blood-spots found on his blue RAF tunic, his blue belt and the left sleeve of his brown shirt were not Cummins’ own blood, but that the blood type matched that of Doris Jouanett’s. Police could conclusively link Cummins to the attacks on Greta Haywood and Kathryn Mulcahy, as well as the murder of Evelyn Oatley, Margaret Florence Lowe and Doris Jouanett, but sadly, not Evelyn Hamilton.

It was then that the Police were blessed with an amazing piece of good fortune.

That same day, Cummins’ bunk-mate, Sergeant Keith Edward Moon was cleaning out the kitchenette they shared in flat 27 of St James Close, when he discovered secreted on the top shelf of their fridge, a silver cigarette case, which Cummins had hidden during his hour of solitude, and it contained a small photograph of a pretty blonde lady and the case was etched with the initials ‘LW’.  

Concerned that this may be evidence, the cadets conducted their own search. And at 2:30pm, Corporal Gordon Arthur Freeman found in the kitchen bin, the hastily sawn-off rubber soles to Cummins’ black scuffed boots, a green and black pencil and a handkerchief etched with the laundry mark of E2474.

Again, Chief Inspector Greeno asked those closest to the victims to identify two personal items found in Cummins’ flat; grieving widower Harold Oatley confirmed that the silver cigarette case etched with the initials ‘LW’ belonged to his wife Evelyn Oatley (also known as Lita Ward) and that the photo inside was of her mother Rossina,. And former chemist’s assistant 14 year old Bettina Grace Gray confirmed that she had loaned the green and black pencil to her manager Evelyn Hamilton one week prior.

With the handkerchief’s laundry mark of E2474 verified by Thorpebay Laundry Company in Romford, which matched an identical set found in Evelyn Hamilton’s suitcase, left in her hotel room at The Three Arts Club in Marylebone, and having confirmed that the grey brick mortar found in Cummins’ own gas respirator matched the sample taken from the air-raid shelter in Montague Place, the Police now had more than enough evidence to go to trial and (they hoped) to convince Cummins to confess…

On Tuesday 10th March 1942, at the back of The Old Bailey, Cummins was charged with the murders of Evelyn Hamilton, Margaret Florence Lowe, Doris Jouanett and the assaults on Greta Haywood and Kathryn Mulcahy, to which he replied “absurd”.

On Thursday 26th March 1942, at the back of The Old Bailey, Cummins was charged with the murder of Evelyn Oatley, to which he replied “that’s ridiculous”.

…Cummins denied all charges and gave no confession.

On Monday 27th April 1942, 28 year old Gordon Frederick Cummins was tried before Mr Justice Asquith and a jury of twelve men in court two of the Central Criminal Court, known as The Old Bailey. As was his prerogative, even in the face of the overwhelming and irrefutable evidence against him, Cummins – in a mixture of either stupidity, confidence or arrogance – gave no evidence in his defence, submitted no witnesses to back-up his claims, didn’t enter an insanity plea, or put forward any mitigating factors (like a history of mental illness), and – facing almost certain death - he pleaded not guilty to all charges.

If anything, as his face beamed bright with a contented grin, as mawkish crowds of spectators jostled in the gallery and rabid journalists jotted down his name, in a legal defence entirely funded by the British tax-payer, although brief, he actually seemed to relish his time in the limelight.

In a trial which didn’t even last the whole day, the jury only needed to deliberate for just thirty-five minutes before they came to a unanimous conclusion, and found Gordon Frederick Cummins, on the charges of four counts of murder, one count of grievous bodily harm and one charge of assault – guilty.

And although he protested his innocence, his parents put forward several legal appeals and his wife applied for clemency, Gordon Frederick Cummins, the West End’s most infamous spree-killer and serial sexual sadist, who also known as The Blackout Ripper was sentenced to death.

On Thursday 25th June 1942, at a little before 9am, in the condemned man’s cell in Wandsworth Prison, Cummins sat wearing itchy woollen prison-issue fatigues which caused him to shift uncomfortably as he sat on a hard wooden chair, trapped by four cold stone walls, a barred window and a steel door.

The room was cold, basic and simple, sparsely furnished with few comforts, not unlike the bedrooms of the many women he had mauled, mutilated and massacred. But this time there were no knives, no razors, no candle, curling tongs nor can-opener to occupy his endless hours, as all he had here was a bed with a sheet, a simple wooden chair, a table with a jug of water, a bucket to defecate in and a large wardrobe (not unlike the kind his victim’s filled with hats, coats and handbags) but this particular wardrobe held a big surprise for Cummins, which even he wouldn’t expect

Having declined a final meal, instead supping back a glass of brandy, whether to settle his nerves, toast his life or celebrate his crimes, Cummins sat with his back to the wardrobe, facing the pale white wall with a sickly green hue, smoking and smirking, excitably chatting away, as having had no company for the last three months but his own dark thoughts, he was desperate to talk, but the guards said nothing.

Having written a few farewell letters, Cummins knew that today was the day of his death and that at precisely 9am - not a minute early and not a minute late – that he would be dead. But with no clock on the wall, no watch on his wrist and guards motionless and silent, as the morning sun of a bright new day raised up into the sky, time dragged slowly for Cummins, as (just like with his victims) he would be forced to live with the terrifying agony of never knowing when his end would come.

During those last days of his wasted life, having had many lonely nights to contemplate his killings, visualise his victims and mull-over the mutilation, full of horrifying images which would haunt their families forever, Cummins often visited the prison chapel; to pray for his wife, his father, his mother, his brother, his friends and especially for himself, but he never prayed for his victims or for forgiveness.

Although his visitors were few; mostly consisting of close family, Police officers and a priest, never once in those three months of solemn reflection did he ever confess to his crimes, and when asked why he did it, he’d simply reply “I didn’t”, as in his mind, he was innocent.

And the morning dragged on and time seemed to stall, the more his leg jiggled, his fingers strummed and his charming façade dropped as he became more even more impatient. And although he wouldn’t know this, the time was one minute to nine…

…in the briefest of moments, with a hard heavy clunk, the cold steel door of the cell would swing open, and as his two flanking guards would sharply raise Cummins to his feet, in would swiftly walk the prison governor, the doctor and the chaplain, accompanied by a slight and almost debonair 30 year old who would shackle the prisoner’s hands behind his back, as Cummins came face-to-face with a slim, short and unassuming man in a brown suit, with a kind face and a small wisp of hair on his head.

This was Albert Pierrepoint – his executioner.

Just like Cummins, Pierrepoint was a Yorkshireman. Just like Cummins, Pierrepoint was synonymous with death. And just like Cummins; Pierrepoint was charming, well-mannered and polite, and in his company Cummins felt safe, so for those who were due to die at his hands, his kindly demeanour was a false sense of security. And that’s where the similarities ended.

Pierrepoint was a professional whose precisely calculated, intricately rehearsed and swiftly performed executions were the epitome of efficiency, designed to be as humane and painless as possible, with the time from the prisoner hearing the cell door open to their body dangling at the end of a rope being less than ten seconds, and (as a master of his art) his quickest was seven.

Unlike his victims, Cummins wouldn’t suffer a horrendously painful death, as a sadistic maniac slowly strangled every breath out of his trembling body, crushing his throat and vocal chords, as with joyous glaring eyes his executioner clutched both sides of the stocking around his neck and pulled, chocking every ounce of life out of him, over several long, agonising and terrifying minutes.
No. He wouldn’t be mutilated, he wouldn’t be violated and he wouldn’t be posed. His loved ones wouldn’t witness his dead dangling corpse and his burial would be simple but dignified.

With Harry Allen, the executioner’s assistant having shackled the prisoner’s hands behind his back, as a prison guard slid aside the large wooden wardrobe, Cummins would be turned to face the dark secret behind the wardrobe, as barely ten feet from where he stood was the execution chamber. There was no long walk and no green mile, death had come to him.

Being led into the cold stone chamber, barely forty feet wide, high and deep, the eerily empty room had pale green walls, a set of sprung trap-doors in the centre and a wooden beam across the ceiling from which dangled a thick hemp rope, its end curled into a noose, measured to fit Cummins’ head.

And as they would swiftly position Cummins onto the chalk-marked ‘T’, dead-centre on the trap-doors, before he could even realise where he was, a white silken hood would be pulled down over his head, the silk-lined noose would be placed around his neck, and – having precisely calculated the prisoner’s five foot nine inch / eleven and a half stone frame – Pierrepoint would remove the bolt, and Cummins would drop. His six foot three inch fall, lasting less than half a second and releasing 1000 foot lbs of energy, as his motionless body was stopped from hitting the stone-tiled floor by the thick hemp rope, which would dislocated the second and third vertebrae of his neck, as fast as a foot snaps a stick.

As a legal requirement, his body would be left to hang for a full hour to ensure he was dead, and with no cheer, no joy and no applause, Cummins would be buried and Pierrepoint would be paid his £12.

That would be the end of The Blackout Ripper.

But before the strike of 9am, in his last minute alive, Gordon Frederick Cummins - the man who had terrorised London’s West End, brutally and savagely slaying four women and leaving two more scarred for life – continued to profess his innocence, gave no further statements and made no confession.
Instead, having stubbed out his cigarette and huffing like a man who had better things to do, Cummins impatiently protested to his guards “come on, let’s get this done”. And as the steel door opened, his arms were shackled, the wardrobe was slid back, his legs were secured, his head was hooded, his neck was noosed and Pierrepoint gripped the bolt – amidst the irony that London, that very morning, was in the grip of an air-raid, with a cacophony of sirens wailing, almost like a fond farewell to the West End’s most sadistic spree-killer – from underneath the heaving hood as his terrified breath quickened, with barely a second left to utter his final words, The Blackout Ripper said… nothing. (OUT)

OUTRO: Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for listening to Murder Mile.

Don’t forget to join us next week for the eighth part of the true story of The Blackout Ripper. Yes, that’s right, the eighth part, as although this was the finale of The Blackout Ripper’s story, because he professed his innocence and never gave a confession, I think it’s only right to re-examine the case. So, next week, for the first time ever, we’ll dive deep into the personal life of The Blackout Ripper, to look at his childhood, his relationships and his life leading up to the murders to see if there are any clues as to why he committed these murders, and we’ll do an episode showing his exact movements at the time of the killings and a Q&A episode where you can post me any questions, and post your theories as to why he did it. Message me on any social media platform with a Q&A question or theory.

If you love The Blackout Ripper story, please rate it and share it with your friends, as the more listeners Murder Mile gets, the more stories I can tell, and the longer this podcast can keep going.
This week’s recommended podcast of the week is Murderish, hosted by Jami, Murderish is an intriguing true-crime series which dives into the minds, method and the madness of murderers and those who track them, with excellent interviews with retired FBI profiler Jim Fitzgerald (who played a significant role in catching the Unabomber), Rob Demery (homicide investigator) and Emily Meehan (daughter of the infamous Dirty John) to name but a few. Check out Murderish. (play promo)

This week’s new Patreon supporter is Coralee, whose donation to the Keep Murder Mile Alive Fund is really appreciated, and truly helps cover the costs of researching each episode, as well as the 50-60 hours a week they each take to write, record and edit, so every penny really is appreciated. In answer to your question, my preferred method of attack is a ball kick, up-cut to the nose and a throat smash followed by a head-butt, or (if that’s sounds too aggressive) simply rip off his wig, mock his small hands, and tell him that Obama was a much better President, that should work. Good luck.

And a quick shout-out to two excellent true-crime podcasts that I heartily recommend; first is Redrum Blonde, hosted by Erin, the latest episode of Redrum Blonde is a real kicker, as she deep-dives into the sinister world of Scientology and the mysterious death of Lisa McPherson, so if you love true-crime with a twist, check out Redrum Blonde. And second is Heist Podcast, co-hosted by Matt & Simon, Heist Podcast trawls the news archives to bring you some of the world’s craziest, most bizarre and baffling robberies, from across the world, whether historical or topical. So if these podcasts sound perfect for you, check them out on iTunes and all podcast platforms.

Murder Mile was researched, written & performed by myself, with the main musical themes written and performed by Erik Stein & Jon Boux of Cult With No Name.

Next week’s episode… is part eight, about the early life of The Blackout Ripper.

Thank you for listening and sleep well.

*** LEGAL DISCLAIMER ***
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 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, therefore mistakes will be made. As stated at the beginning of each episode (and as is clear by the way it is presented) Murder Mile 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. It is not a full representation of the case, the people or the investigation in its entirety, and therefore should not be taken as such. It is also often (for the sake of clarity and drama) presented from a single person's perspective, usually (but not exclusively) the victim's, therefore it will contain a certain level of bias to get across this single perspective, which may not be the overall opinion of those involved or associated.
*** LEGAL DISCLAIMER ***

Credits: The Murder Mile true-crime podcast was researched, written and recorded by Michael J Buchanan-Dunne, with the sounds recorded on location (where possible), and the music written and performed by Erik Stein & Jon Boux of Cult With No Name. ​​Additional music was written and performed by various artists, as used under the Creative Common Agreement 4.0. A list of tracks used and the links are listed on the relevant transcript blog here

Michael J Buchanan-Dunne is a writer, crime historian, podcaster and tour-guide who runs Murder Mile Walks, a guided tour of Soho’s most notorious murder cases, hailed as “one of the top ten curious, quirky, unusual and different things to do in London” and featuring 12 murderers, including 3 serial killers, across 15 locations, totaling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.

Nominated BEST TRUE-CRIME PODCAST at British Podcast Awards 2018. Subscribe via  iTunes, Podcast Addict, Podbean, Stitcher, Acast, Tune-In, Otto Radio, Spotify or Libsyn

Welcome to the Murder Mile true-crime podcast and audio guided walk of London's most infamous and often forgotten murder cases, set within one square mile of the West End. 

• A weekly true-crime podcast - EVERY THURSDAY
• 300+ infamous, untold or often forgotten true murders
• Based on Soho's FIVE STAR rated Murder Mile Walks
• Research collected from original and first-hand sources
• Authentic sounds recorded from the location itself
• An audio guided walk... all from the comfort of your home

To accompany your audio guided walk, what follows is a series of photos, videos and maps, so that no matter where you are listening to this podcast, you'll feel like you're actually there.

EPISODE THIRTY

Episode Thirty: The Blackout Ripper Part 6: On the morning of Friday 13th February 1942, The Blackout Ripper was caught and arrested, but not for the brutal murder of four women in London’s West End, and the Police had no idea who he really was.

• Date: Friday 13th February 1942
  
• Location: West End Central police station
  
• Victims: 6
  
• Culprit: The Blackout Ripper
  

CLICK HERE to download the Murder Mile podcast via iTunes and to receive the latest episodes, click "subscribe". You can listen to it now by clicking the green PLAY button on the embedded media player below. All transcribed versions are available in "Podcast Transcripts" (right)

THE LOCATION

As many photos of the case are copyright protected by greedy news organisations (and I don't want to be billed £300 for copyright infringement again), to view them, take a peek at my entirely legal social media accounts - Facebook, Twitter or Instagram

BLACKOUT RIPPER – Part 6 The Arrest of The Blackout Ripper

INTRO: Between the 9th and the 12th February 1942, a sadistic sexual maniac stalked London’s West End brutally murdering four women (Evelyn Hamilton, Evelyn Oatley, Margaret Florence Lowe and Doris Jouanett) and strangling two others (Greta Hayward and Kathryn Mulcahy). And as much as the government kept a lid on any stories which could cause hysteria, none of The Blackout Ripper’s killings made front page news, instead they were relegated to small columns hidden on the inside pages. 

The first recorded use of the term “Blackout Ripper” was just one day after Evelyn Oatley’s death. But with few papers taking up this salacious moniker, although it was muttered amongst the locals (almost as if he was a bogie-man), as soon as the trial was over, the case-files were archived, the story was lost, the victims were forgotten and “The Blackout Ripper” didn’t reappear in print until the mid-1950’s when a resurgence in true-crime led to these stories being sensationally and inaccurately retold.

And although The Blackout Ripper had echoes of the infamous Jack the Ripper case 54 years earlier, by the turn of 1942, not only had cinema audiences become incredibly savvy having been raised on a diet of sensational thrillers and the tired clichés of the tabloid press, but by living under the constant threat of the Nazi invasion with a terrifying barrage of bombs raining down from the skies, soldiers and civilians being slaughtered in their millions and ordinary people witnessing death on their doorsteps on an almost daily basis, in the grand scheme of things, the bloody murders of The Blackout Ripper were insignificant during war-time London. And so, once again, one of Britain’s most sadistic spree-killers disappeared into the darkness and his name was almost forgotten.  

My name is Michael. I am your tour-guide. This is Murder Mile. And I present to you; part six of the full, true and untold story of The Blackout Ripper.

SCRIPT: Today, I’m standing outside of West End Central police station on Saville Row, W1; a tall, grey, drab but imposing seven-storey concrete monstrosity just off Regent Street. And although police stations are supposed to instil into a nervous victim a reassuring sense of safety; having a flat featureless façade like a mummified face, a multitude of black shiny windows like a spider’s eye and an ominously wide main-door, lying dead-centre like the dark gaping mouth of a starving snake, West End Central evokes an intake of breath, a tightness in the chest and the spackling of the anal sphincter.

Built in 1940 to support local police stations like Vine Street, Bow Street and Great Marlborough Street as a war-time crime-wave swept through the city, sadly West End Central is now defunct as a working police station. And although it is still used as a local support unit, being full of coppers, panda-cars and riot vans, the glory days are gone and the good old London Bobbie has been relegated to posing for tourists photos, letting pregnant ladies pee in their helmets and having American tourists repeatedly ask them “excuse me sir, can you tell me the way to Li-Ces-Tur Square” and other such places that they deliberately mispronounce just to piss us off, such as Ed-in-bu-ro, Wor-chuster-shire and of course Loogaburg (which – for those of us who actually speak English – is Loughborough).

And yet, although West End Central police station is now nothing more than an admin block, it was here, on Thursday 12th February 1942, where Greta Hayward gave the Police a description of the man who had attacked her. But little would she know that these details would lead to the capture of one of London’s most prolific spree-killers, who was known as The Blackout Ripper. (Interstitial)

The mug of milky tea was warm and soothing as Greta raised it to her trembling lips, most of which she spilled as her hands violently shook, and yet as reassuring as its sweetness was, even swallowing the smallest of gulps caused Greta to wince in pain, as the tea trickled down her swollen throat and an ominous purple-y yellow outline of a left hand formed across her bruised neck.

And although her attacker was still out there, somewhere, possibly prowling the back-streets of Soho and Piccadilly, inside Interview Room 2 of West End Central police station Greta was safe, as she gave a detailed description to Detective Inspector Clarence Jeffrey; a semi-senior detective whose remit was muggings, robberies and violent assaults (which this most certainly was), as well as murders.

So, for DI Jeffrey, with divisional surgeon Dr Alexander Baldie having confirmed that her injuries were consistent with strangulation, with Greta having provided an accurate sketch of the airman, aided by John Shine’s credible witness statement and the swift discovery of her eight inch torch and her stolen handbag (with the paper money missing), although none of these items retained any fingerprints owing to the wet weather, Greta’s attacker was quickly identified by his unique military serial number he had written in indelible ink inside his Royal Air Force issued gas respirator.

With a kind smile, tired eyes and a world-weary face, which had barely slept in several days - as every time he blinked; the ripped, splayed and mutilated body of Evelyn Oatley flashed before his eyes, having witnessed the horror on Wardour Street just two days before - DI Jeffrey reassured Greta that this was an open-and-shut case and they should have her attacker in custody by the morning.

Having deduced that the airman was stationed at the nearby RAF aircrew reception centre in Regent’s Park, DI Jeffrey telephoned Corporal William Crook, the orderly corporal in charge of Abbey Lodge where the aircrew were stationed, he confirmed that the serial number of ‘525987’ belonged to Leading Aircraftman Gordon Frederick Cummins, a 28 year old blue-eyed fair-haired airmen, and that being under investigation for a possible robbery and an assault, DI Jeffrey instructed the orderly corporal to place Cummins under arrest until the arrival of the Police.

Of course, there were elements of this case which didn’t make any sense - such as why would a total stranger would want to attack Greta Hayward, why a robber would treat his victim to supper first, why (if this was an attempted murder) did he not bring any weapons with him, and why were there several scrapes and a few odd fragments of grey brick mortar inside of the gas-respirator, which didn’t match any wall found in or near where Greta was attacked? But then again, not all cases are neat.

So, as DI Jeffrey prepared the necessary paperwork for the attack on Greta Hayward, as a seasoned detective he knew that – if this actually ended up in court, which many cases (for various reasons) don’t – even with the evidence and statements they had, at best Cummins would be convicted of the lesser charge of grievous bodily harm, and sentenced to a few months in prison, or more likely (with him being an airman, this being war-time and – especially -if this was his first offence) he may get off with just a fine.

But first they would need to find him, as with Gordon Frederick Cummins not asleep in his bed, and the logbook at Abbey Lodge confirming that he hadn’t returned from a night out, that meant that somewhere across the West End, still stalking the city’s streets was The Blackout Ripper. (Interstitial)

It may seem strange, sinister or even stupid, but at 2am on Friday 13th February 1942, barely a few hours after he had committed a brutal murder and two attempted murders, that Gordon Frederick Cummins would return to Piccadilly Circus, but that’s exactly what he did.

By that ungodly hour, Piccadilly Circus was dark, cold and deathly quiet, so with the streets speckled with a smattering of police constables on the look-out for anyone suspicious whether muggers eyeing-up drunken marks, peepers perving through sexy lady’s keyholes and lost servicemen who accidentally ask for directions from lone women who just happened to be prostitutes, it’s almost inconceivable that Cummins would flock here like some-kind of homicidal pigeon, but he did.

I mean, he could have picked literally anywhere in the whole of London’s West End to return to. But instead, being slightly drunk, strangely bored and more than a little arrogant, Cummins headed back to Piccadilly Circus; the place where murdered prostitutes Evelyn Oatley and Margaret Florence Lowe were last seen alive, where mutilated sex-worker Doris Jouanett was heading that night, where that very evening he had picked-up feisty Irish women Kathryn Mulcahy who had kicked six shades of shit out of his guts, and where – just five hours earlier – in a doorway just one street away – he had robbed, assaulted and strangled Greta Hayward; a women who was still alive, had seen his face, knew his history and at whose feet he had dropped his ridiculously unique gas respirator, who was now barely a six minute walk away at West End Central police station, and yet still, like a bad smell in a blocked toilet, Cummins returns to Piccadilly Circus.

Oh yes, Piccadilly Circus was the perfect place for a wanted murderer to blend-in; if you exclude the fact that he had cuts on his left hand, scuff marks on his boots, that the Police had his missing gas-mask and would soon have the belt to his blue tunic which he had misplaced in Kathryn Mulcahy’s flat, and as long as you entirely ignore the fact that the blue Royal Air Force uniform he was wearing right then was splattered with the blood of Doris Jouanett, there was nothing suspicious about Gordon Frederick Cummins at all. So it made perfect sense for him to be in Piccadilly Circus.

But it was here, on the north-side of Piccadilly Circus, right outside of the notorious Café Monaco, that he picked-up another prostitute, hopped in a taxi with her and – in a move which once again was either strange, sinister or just plain stupid – he headed back to her flat, which (given the irony of where he had just been) was quite possibly in the second worst place in the whole of the West End for The Blackout Ripper to return to. Her flat was in Paddington and her name was Doreen Lytton (Interstitial)

As the taxi chugged back along the desolate darkness of West End, Doreen Lytton (a recently married mother of two, housewife and part-time prostitute) sat in the taxi’s back-seat with Cummins, unable to see the deep-red blood on his dark-blue clothes, as in the darkness, everything looked black.

Having slugged back a few too many whiskies, he was clearly tipsy, but unlike her usual clients who – having got her alone, on a back-seat, in a taxi – would feverishly fondle and grope this lone female to satisfy their strange sexual urges, but this one seemed different; he was quiet, calm and distant. And as he stared out of the window, watching the world go by, as the cab passed Maison Lyonese and turned right onto the all-too familiar sight of Edgware Road, Cummins politely enquired “Can I spend an hour with you? I’ll give you £3”, to which Doreen said “yeah, okay”, as in his company she felt safe.

Moments later, the taxi dropped them off at Porchester Place; two streets south of Kathryn Mulcahy’s flat at 28 Southwick Street (where the Police had just recently been, taken a statement and picked-up the missing belt to his blue tunic) and three streets south-east of 187 Sussex Gardens (where the mutilated body of Doris Jouanett would lay undiscovered for the next 17 hours), they walked through to Polygon Mews, Doreen unlocked her door and welcomed into her flat The Blackout Ripper.

Being a small first-floor flat rented solely for sex-work, it was basic, drab and fitted with only the bare essentials, such as a bed with a sheet, a table with a candlestick, a wash-stand with a packet of razor-blades and a wardrobe full of clothes, hats, curling tongs and a collection of kitchen cutlery. And having put the £3 on the mantelpiece, behind a framed photograph of her two beloved babies, Doreen popped a shilling in the coin-slot of her gas-fire to warm the flat up and she started to undress.

But being slumped on her bed, his tired face all sunken, his bloodshot eyes all sullen and expelling a deep exhale of exhaustion, Cummins shook his head and calmly said “that won’t be necessary, I only want to talk, I have been drinking too much”, and so, being unable to perform, Doreen sat, in her flat, on an armchair, opposite the West End’s most prolific spree-killer and serial sexual sadist, and for an hour, over a nice warm cup of tea, they just sat and chatted.

Doreen would later state that he was polite, calm and courteous; a real gentleman, who sat quietly, listened intently and truly seemed to care about her life, as with a genuinely warm smile and a twinkle in his eyes, she showed him the photograph of her beloved family; a husband, a wife and two kids, and the more they talked, with her maternal instincts kicking in, Doreen felt pity for him.

During that very pleasant hour together, nothing immoral took place and they both remained clothed, seated and apart. Being honest with Doreen, Cummins apologised for his lack of libido and reassured her that he definitely did fancy her, but that his real reason for being here was simply to pass an hour or two, as (on tonight of all nights) he was in big trouble.

Of course, during their conversation, he never once mentioned that he was a deeply disturbed sexual sadist who (over the last few days) had strangled and tortured four women; sliced, ripped and filleted their skins, had taken a deeply-disturbing level of pleasure in disfiguring their genitals, into which he had inserted a series of phallic household objects, having then posed each women like morbid mannequins, stolen a creepy collection of souvenirs, and let two women live, who (just like Doreen) knew most of his life story. No, instead, Cummins was concerned with more pressing matters.

As being several hours too late for his 10:30pm curfew back at Abbey Lodge, having misplaced the blue belt to his RAF tunic and lost his serial-numbered gas-respirator, all of which were chargeable offences under the Royal Air Force’s code of conduct, Leading Aircraftman Gordon Frederick Cummins (who was only in London on a three week course) was less concerned with his brutal murders, and more concerned about these minor misdemeanours, as any black mark against his name could seriously jeopardise his chance of ever becoming an RAF pilot. 

With the hour almost up and his £3 spent, taking pity on his plea, Doreen handed the airman an almost identical gas-respirator in a beige canvas bag, that she had found just one week before, he thanked her for the tea, took her telephone number saying he’d love to see her again, and at a little before 4am, Doreen Lytton waved goodbye to The Blackout Ripper, as he disappeared into the darkness.

Today, Abbey Lodge - with its art-deco stylings, wrought iron gates and intricate gold inlayed doors - is a stunning six-storey Georgian mansion-block for the supremely wealthy, situated in the exclusive north-west corner of Regent’s Park, with flats selling for just £3-12million, or rented for £5000 a week. But in 1942, having been requisitioned by the military, Abbey Lodge was known as Number Three Reception Centre, where trainee pilots for the Royal Air Force were stationed.

Although stationed at Abbey Lodge, Cummins resided at the newly built apartments on St James Close on the north-side of Regent’s Park. But with armed sentries positioned on all the doors, added security patrolling the perimeter (especially the fire-escapes which airmen, having missed their curfew would often climb up and sneak into their flats unnoticed) and with a higher risk of him being shot if he tried to break-in, with no other options, Cummins approached the main entrance of Abbey Lodge.

From the darkness of the doorway, into his startled face, the hollow muzzle of a Lee Enfield .303 rifle was aimed as Air Cadets Cyril Woolfenden and David Alfred Arch challenged Cummins. Playing it cool, Cummins beamed a winning smile, showed the sentries his identification card; clarified his name, rank and serial number (“Cummins; Gordon Frederick; Leading Aircraftman, 525987”) and following strict orders to detain Cummins on sight, he was swiftly marched to the guard-room.

Entering the guardroom, Cummins gulped, knowing he was in deep shit, when he was confronted by Corporal Charles Johnson (the Orderly Sargent with an overpowering smell of body-odour and starch) who’s long thin fingers strummed on the battered log-book and Corporal William Crook (the fresh-faced, squat-framed and spud-headed Orderly Corporal) who had taken the call from DI Jeffrey of West End Central.

Feigning ignorance, having smeared on his best poker-face, Cummins casually enquired “what’s this all about?”, to which Orderly Corporal Crook replied “a woman’s been attacked in Piccadilly, your respirator was found at the scene”. But without missing a beat, Cummins let out an audible sigh and uttered “thank God for that” (or words to that affect), tapped the black gas-respirator in a beige canvas bag which was slung over his left shoulder, and having reassured both orderlies that this was nothing more than a silly mix-up, Cummins was escorted on a 15 minute walk back to his billets.

Still partially under construction, Cummins was billeted at St James Close; a seven-storey brown-brick art-deco building, situated on Prince Albert Road on the northern perimeter of Regent’s Park, and although he was not permitted to leave the premises until the Police arrived, at no time during his detention was he ever searched, supervised, locked-in or even placed under armed guard.

At roughly 4:50am, on Friday 13th February 1942, Cummins quietly crept into flat 27, on the first floor of St James Close, trying not to wake his buddies who slept as soundly as seven men could on wire-sprung cots with scratchy woollen bedsheets, but as silent as he was, he was desperate to talk.

Having shaken his bunk-buddy awake, with Flight Sargent Raymond Snelus noticing it was still dark and that Cummins was dressed, he groggily asked “where have you been”, to which Cummins replied “I am in the shit, someone swapped my respirator and it was found at the scene of a crime”. But being unimpressed and needing his extra hour of sleep, Snelus rolled over, farted and nodded off.

And so, for almost a whole hour, amongst a sea of sleeping airmen, Cummins was unobserved.

Having been alerted of his arrival, the police were on their way to question Cummins, but with this being a simple assault and robbery charge, with clear evidence, corroborated witness statements and their only suspect being held inside a secure military location, given that the Police had more pressing matters to deal with – like a sadistic maniac who, so far, had brutally murdered two women in the West End, with two more bodies still to be discovered - there was no real rush to arrest Cummins.

So what he did, during that hour, would determine the course of the rest of his life. It would be the difference between a career and unemployment, prison and freedom, and even life and death,

What did the police really know? Was this about the assault, or was this about the murders? Did they only know about Greta Hayward? Had Kathryn Mulcahy blabbed? Or had they linked him to the murders of Evelyn Hamilton and Evelyn Oatley, and later Margaret Florence Lowe and Doris Jouanett? Did the Police know more than they said, or could Gordon Frederick Cummins outwit them?

Time was on his side… but the clock was ticking.

At 5:45am on Friday 13th February 1942 - Detective Charles Bennett and Detective Sargent Thomas Shepherd - arrived at flat 27 of St James Close to interview Leading Aircraftman Gordon Frederick Cummins, who was nonchalantly lying on his bunk, fully clothed and smoking a cigarette from a silver cigarette case, as he casually greeted the plain-clothed officers with a courteous “good morning”.

Having established Cummins’ identity using his military ID, Detective Bennett stated “your respirator has been found by the side of a woman who had been badly assaulted and you answer the description of a man who she described”, to which Cummins simply nodded and said nothing.

“Is that your respirator, sir?” Detective Bennett enquired, pointing to the black rubber gas-mask in the beige canvas bag on his bunk (which just hours before Doreen Lytton had given him), but knowing full well that the serial number etched inside didn’t match his own, Cummins replied “no, I picked that up in the Universal Brasserie, someone must have picked up my one by mistake, so I took this one”.

With Cummins fitting the description, Detective Bennett stated “I’m arresting you for causing grievous bodily harm to Mrs Greta Hayward on St Alban’s Street, on the evening of Thursday 12th February 1942”. Cummins was cautioned and handcuffed but made no reply. Calmly stubbing out his cigarette underfoot, the officers escorted their suspect to the awaiting police car, his scuffed black boots making a very slight and unusually flat sound as he walked, which (amongst the hubbub) nobody noticed.

At 9am, a few hours later, having been transferred to West End Central police station, Cummins – who was composed, polite, helpful and almost jokey at the ridiculousness of the situation - was questioned by Detective Inspector Clarence Jeffrey who stated “I understand you deny being the man who assaulted Mrs Heyward, it will therefore be necessary to hold you for an identification parade”.

But confronted with the overwhelming evidence against him – the gas-respirator etched with his serial number (525987), the witness statements by Greta Hayward and John Shine, the scuff marks on his left hand, the blood-stains on his shirt and having found a small slip of paper in his grate-coat pocket on which had been written “Colindale 6622” (which was Greta Hayward’s phone number) - Cummins quickly confessed, stating “No, that won’t be necessary, I am the man, I was drinking very heavily that night and I remember being with a woman in Piccadilly, but I cannot remember anything else that happened.” At which, Cummins asked to make a full statement.

Part of it read: “… I had several whiskies and brandies, I cannot remember how many, but I know I had several. After some minutes, I cannot recall how many exactly, I went over and spoke to a woman standing at the bottom of the stairs (in the Universal Brasserie), I had some conversation with her and I believe I brought her a drink. I cannot remember exactly what followed but I have a hazy recollection of walking around the streets with her. By this time, I was very drunk and did not know what I was doing. The next thing I remember, it was around 02:30am, I found myself in Marble Arch and caught a cab back to Regent’s Park. I have a hazy recollection of being with a woman but I cannot remember striking her. I deeply regret what has happened and I am willing to pay her compensation”. Cummins re-read his statement, confirmed its accuracy and signed it with his left hand.

As was standard protocol, Cummins agreed to be searched by Detective Bennett in the presence of DI Jeffrey, and his unremarkable personal affects included two £1 notes in his wallet, three shillings and six pence in his pocket, his RAF identity card, a few personal letters on RAF notepaper, a silver cigarette case, a greeny-blue comb with several teeth missing, and in the other gas-respirator (given to him by Doreen Lytton) he had stashed eight £1 notes and a gold wrist-watch.

None of which seemed strange, suspicious or out of the ordinary; a worn leather wallet, a few crinkled pound notes, his military ID, a slightly battered silver cigarette case, an old broken comb and a gold wrist-watch (the type that married couples – like  Mrs & Mrs Cummins – would give each other on a special anniversary). To the untrained eye, they were nothing more than a random assortment of everyday items that most men would carry, and which meant nothing to the Police. But to Cummins, they were personal items, too precious to dispose of or destroy during a vital last hour alone, they were mementoes of his morbid memories and souvenirs of his sadistic crimes.

On the afternoon of Friday 13th February 1942, a grinning Gordon Frederick Cummins appeared at Bow Street Magistrates Court where he was charged with the minor offence of causing grievous bodily harm to Mrs Greta Hayward. As a condition of this charge, Cummins would be remanded in custody at Brixton Prison until his court appearance on 12th March 1942.

If found guilty of GHB, having already spent a month in prison awaiting his trial, although this custodial sentence would be inconvenient, Cummins would most likely be released owing to “time served”, imposed with a small fine and (having missed the remainder of his three week course in Regent’s Park) with the Royal Air Force in need of strong young men to fight off the impending German invasion, Cummins would most likely be demoted and redeployed elsewhere, where he could retrain as a pilot. And once again, into the darkness of the West End, The Blackout Ripper would disappear.

And as he sat there, smoking in the privacy of his small prison cell in Brixton Prison, as his slight grin slowly morphed to a beaming smirk, having outsmarted both the Metropolitan Police, Scotland Yard and left a bloody trail of terror across the West End with four women brutally mutilated and two attacked, all in just four days, Cummins knew that he had literally gotten away with murder.

OUTRO: Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for listening to Murder Mile.

Don’t forget to join us next week for the seventh part of the true story of The Blackout Ripper.

This week’s recommended podcast of the week is True-Crime Island, brilliantly hosted by your very own Aussie news anchor-man called Cambo, True-Crime Island covers the very latest breaking true-crime news stories from around the world. So if you like your true-crime delivered to you in a fast, fresh and fun way, check out True-Crime Island. (Play Promo)

If you fancy becoming a Patreon supporter, receiving exclusive access to original Murder Mile content including crime-scene photos, murder location videos and Patron-only Extra Mile episodes for the first 20 cases, as well as ensuring the future of Murder Mile, you can do this for just £2 a month (or £2 in real money) by clicking on the link in the show-notes.

And a quick shout-out to two truly excellent true-crime podcasts that I heartily recommend; first is Pleasing Terrors; hosted by Mike (who like myself is a tour guide), Pleasing Terrors is a really well-told series of creepy but true tales which will have you on the edge of your seat (trust me the ouiji board episode in Charleston Prison, I had to switch off, as I knew I wouldn’t get to sleep. And second is Swindled, hosted by an unnamed narrator, Swindled dives into the murky world of white collar crime, focussing on corporate crimes, scandals and swindles, such as the Bopal disaster, Love canal and the mysterious death of the pizza delivery man. So check out Pleasing Terrors and Swindled on iTunes and all podcast platforms.

Murder Mile was researched, written & performed by myself, with the main musical themes written and performed by Erik Stein & Jon Boux of Cult With No Name.

Next week’s episode… is part seven of The Blackout Ripper.

Thank you for listening and sleep well.

*** LEGAL DISCLAIMER ***
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 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, therefore mistakes will be made. As stated at the beginning of each episode (and as is clear by the way it is presented) Murder Mile 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. It is not a full representation of the case, the people or the investigation in its entirety, and therefore should not be taken as such. It is also often (for the sake of clarity and drama) presented from a single person's perspective, usually (but not exclusively) the victim's, therefore it will contain a certain level of bias to get across this single perspective, which may not be the overall opinion of those involved or associated.
*** LEGAL DISCLAIMER ***

Credits: The Murder Mile true-crime podcast was researched, written and recorded by Michael J Buchanan-Dunne, with the sounds recorded on location (where possible), and the music written and performed by Erik Stein & Jon Boux of Cult With No Name. ​​Additional music was written and performed by various artists, as used under the Creative Common Agreement 4.0. A list of tracks used and the links are listed on the relevant transcript blog here

Michael J Buchanan-Dunne is a writer, crime historian, podcaster and tour-guide who runs Murder Mile Walks, a guided tour of Soho’s most notorious murder cases, hailed as “one of the top ten curious, quirky, unusual and different things to do in London”, nominated "one of the best true-crime  podcasts at the British podcast Awards 2018", and featuring 12 murderers, including 3 serial killers, across 15 locations, totaling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk

Love true-crime podcasts? Subscribe to Murder Mile on iTunes, Podcast Addict, Podbean, Pocketcast, Stitcher, Acast, Tune-In, Otto Radio, Spotify or Libsyn

EPISODE TWENTY-NINE

Episode Twenty Nine: The Blackout Ripper Part 5: before the brutal murder of 34 year old Doris Jouanett on Thursday 12th February 1942 at roughly 11pm, The Blackout Ripper had attacked two more women in London's West End - Greta Hayward and Kathryn Mulcahy - but why did his killing spree abruptly come to an end?

• Date: Thursday 12th February 1942
  
• Location: St Alban's Street & 29 Southwick Street
• Victims: 2 (Greta Hayward & Kathryn Mulcahy)
• Culprit: The Blackout Ripper

CLICK HERE to download the Murder Mile podcast via iTunes and to receive the latest episodes, click "subscribe". You can listen to it now by clicking the green PLAY button on the embedded media player below. All transcribed versions are available in "Podcast Transcripts" (right)

THE LOCATIONS

As The Blackout Ripper committed two separate attacks, on the same day (technically three) both of which occur in this episode, I've included two Murder Mile maps below.

The Attack on Greta Hayward

The Attack on Kathryn Mulcahy

BLACKOUT RIPPER – Part 5 – Greta Hayward & Kathyrn Mulcahy

INTRO: After Britain declared war against Germany on 3rd September 1939, the first liberation took place, starting in British prisons. With the country desperate to clear its cells for the true enemies of the state; such as spies, traitors, looters and deserters, and in short supply of eligible young men for conscription, any prisoners with three months or less to serve were granted their freedom.

Buoyed by a sense of national pride, some prisoners enlisted, but others did not. And with the cities short on experienced Police officers, rationing enforced, and with basic essentials (such as soap and fuel) being sold at vastly over-inflated prices, some ex-con’s saw war-time as the perfect opportunity for criminal enterprise, and even honest people turned to crime under the cover of the blackout.

Between 1939 and 1945, the crime rate in England & Wales rose by 57%, with the number of reported murder cases increasing from 280 in 1939 to 490 in 1945, and with death, injury and disappearance being a daily occurrence in most war-time cities, many murders were impossible to prove.

But four horrifying deaths, over four nights, in four different parts of the London’s West End, were unmistakable as murders committed by a serial sexual sadist; whose attacks were random, bloody and brutal. And although, by Thursday 12th February 1942, on the fifth day of his five-day killing spree, only the badly mutilated bodies of Evelyn Hamilton and Evelyn Oatley had been found, with Margaret Florence Lowe still lying undiscovered, barely hours before the agonising death of his final victim – Doris Jouanett – in one night, having met them just one hour and two hundred feet apart, as his bloodlust escalated, the West End’s most prolific spree-killer would attack two more women.

My name is Michael. I am your tour-guide. This is Murder Mile. And I present to you; part five of the full, true and untold story of The Blackout Ripper.

SCRIPT: Today, I’m standing in Piccadilly Circus, W1; an iconic London landmark which interconnects the roads of Regent Street, Coventry Street, Shaftesbury Avenue, Piccadilly and Haymarket. Built in 1819 under its original name of Regent’s Circus, it later became Piccadilly Circus, after the area it covered, coined after local tailor Robert Baker’s infamous 17th century collar, called the “piccadillio”. And that’s about as exciting as it gets.

Featuring the infamous Criterion Theatre, the London Pavilion, the ghost of Tower Records, two truly hideous tourist attractions (where – for an insulting steep amount of money – you too can stare at badly sculpted plastic replicas of real people) and a statue which every idiot calls Eros (even though it’s not Eros, it’s Anteros - the angel of Christian charity, but then again being educated is so overrated), as everyone stares at Piccadilly’s infamous neon advertising and feels an overwhelming urge to scoff fatty chicken corpses, drink fizzy sugary piss, or smell like a footballer’s arse, they suddenly realise that Piccadilly Circus is nothing more than a world-famous semi-circular traffic contraflow, where every year millions of dipsticks flock to watch traffic; “oh look there’s a truck”, “oh look a bus”, “oh look a bike”, “oh look an accident”, “oh look blood”, “oh look brains”, “oh look entrails”, “oh look a road sweeper”, “oh look a lovely clean road”, as the tourist takes a selfie and says “oh look, there’s a Albanian immigrant wearing a cheap Yoda mask who’s pretending to float, that does look fun”. Sigh!

But actually, for us murder aficionados, Piccadilly Circus is fascinating, As it’s here that Doris Jouanett was heading for her date with The Captain, where both Evelyn Oatley and Margaret Florence Lowe were last seen alive, where two local prostitutes Laura Denmark and Molly Desantos-Alves met a red-headed corporal and a blue-eyed fair-haired airman, and waved goodbye to Evelyn Oatley just hours before her death. And yet, it was here, on Thursday 12th February 1942 at 8pm, where The Blackout Ripper would meet his fourth victim. And her name was Greta Hayward (Interstitial).

As always, being a little too eager and (if she was honest with herself) enthusiastic to escape her home in Kingsbury (North West London) which she shared with her soon-to-be ex-husband; 30 year old Margaret Mary Theresa Hayward, whose friends called her “Greta”, had hopped on the Metropolitan line to Baker Street, changed onto the Bakerloo Line to Piccadilly Circus and was stood outside of the Criterion Theatre – a full hour too early for her date – with nothing to do but wait.

With the shops shut, she couldn’t blow an hour by browsing. With only two films on at the flicks being Bette Davis in The Man Who Came To Dinner and Will Hay in The Black Sheep of Whitehall, she didn’t want to waste a shilling watching a newsreel, a cartoon and half of the pre-feature five-reel b-movie. With the Criterion Theatre having been requisitioned by the BBC to perform live radio for the duration of the war, and tonight’s broadcast being the brutally-dull music show ‘Take Your Choice‘ followed by the BBC Salon Orchestra conducted by Leslie Bridgewater, Greta was already bored of waiting, but she didn’t fancy falling into a coma. And even though Café Monaco was only on the opposite side of Piccadilly Circus, being packed full of sozzled servicemen, as an attractive blonde female sitting by herself, her chance of enjoying a quiet drink was zero.

And so, it was there, at the bottom of the steps of the Criterion Theatre, with time ticking by, her date an hour away and Greta all out of options that a blue-eyed fair-haired airman approached her, with a polite and pleasant proposition she simply couldn’t refuse. (Interstitial)

“Excuse me, are you waiting for somebody?” the airman asked, in an accent which, although well-spoken with the appearance of wealth, class and status, had the unmistakable twang and reassuring hints of North Yorkshire, where Greta was from. Sensing a pick-up attempt, she brushed off his request with the truth that she was awaiting a date with an Army Captain - her clever ploy being to pull rank on this inferior airman, the distinctive white flash on his side-cap suggesting he was still a cadet – but with the snow turning to drizzle, 9pm still an hour away, and the airman seeming harmless enough, with a sweet smile, a kind face and his gentlemanly offer that “I could buy you a drink while you wait for your friend?”, she thought it would certainly pass the time, and in his presence she felt safe.

The Criterion Theatre on Piccadilly Circus began life in the late 1800’s as a grand concert-hall full of cafes, galleries and a fine-dining restaurant in an opulent ballroom, which played host to stars, artists and royals. But after years of neglect and being on its last legs, by 1942, the restaurant had descended into being simply another shoddy pick-up joint for sailors, soldiers and airmen. It was called ‘Brasserie Universelle’, but it was more appropriately known as ‘The Universal Brothel’ or ‘The Brass Ass’.

As always, the bar of Brasserie Universelle was rammed with the sticky bustle of hot bodies as British and Canadian servicemen drank, danced and dry-humped their latest squeeze or conquest. And with the air thick with lewd chatter, fast jazz, cigarette smoke and the unpleasant whiff of jizz, as Greta and the airman drank a whiskey together, it was hard to heard themselves think.

And as much as he failed to flirt with her, by telling her she was beautiful and trotting out other equally unimaginative and retch-worthy chat-up lines, she reminded him of her impending date, he politely apologised and invited her to a spot of supper in the quieter, calmer and the less boisterous ambience of the Salted Almond Cocktail bar in the nearby Trocadero. So with fifty minutes still to go, feeling a little peckish having not eaten since lunch, and with him having agreed to escort her back to the brasserie by 9pm, a time which suited him fine as the rules of the RAF dictated that he had to be back in his Regent’s Park billets by 10:30pm, Greta headed out to supper with the unnamed airman.

He didn’t seem like a bad sort, Greta thought. Yes, he was a little tipsy, but he wasn’t rude, crude or abusive. Yes, the knuckles of his left-hand were scraped, but being an airman he probably did a manual job like a mechanic. And yes, he was a little forward in his approach, but looking rather dashing in his long military grate coat, his shiny black rubber-soled boots, his starched blue tunic with matching belt, his neat brown shirt and straightened tie, his side-cap emblazoned with the insignia of the Royal Air Force, and slung over his left shoulder was a black gas-respirator in a beige canvas bag (the kind of gas-mask that all military personnel were required to carry); she knew nothing bad would happen to her, as on the middle finger of his left hand he wore a gold wedding band, and having proffered her a smoke, she spied a small black & white photo of a pretty blonde lady hidden inside his silver cigarette case, which (she thought) was engraved with her initials of ‘LW’.

The Salted Almond situated in the Trocadero’s original location on the corner of Shaftesbury Avenue and Great Windmill Street, just off the north-east corner of Piccadilly Circus, would have been a good choice for a quiet spot of supper, as being owned by J Lyon & Sons, creators of corner-house tearooms such as Maison Lyonese, it prided itself on being safe, calm and pleasant for women, but sadly, as the night drew on, the same could not be said for Greta’s new companion.

Being a few whiskies in, with supper looking unlikely and his disarmingly charming tone having shifted to that of a lecherous oaf, the airman lustfully enquired “are you a naughty girl?” - ignoring her plea that she wasn’t a prostitute, had never been and had no plans to be – and bragged that “I’m not broke, look”, as he pried open his wallet, which was stuffed thick with thirty £1 notes (almost £1000 today).

Getting petulant as Greta batted away his advances, he stated “I don’t think there’s time for supper now…” and quickly piped-up with “…come out to dinner with me tomorrow evening?” And with Greta eager to leave, she reluctantly agreed to a date, impressed upon him that sex would not happen and wrote on a slip of paper her phone number (of Colindale 6622) which he pocketed. And as he huffed “Alright, if you don’t want to, I can’t make you, but you seem a nice girl and I really do want you”, Greta brushed him off again, and as promised, at 8:45pm, he escorted her back for her 9pm date.

With the blackout in full force, with every light dipped, dulled or turned-off and even the illuminated signs of Piccadilly Circus switched-off, the streets would have been in near-darkness as Greta was guided out of the Trocadero, taking the brisk three minute walk, straight down the bustling throng of Shaftesbury Avenue and across Piccadilly Circus, back to the front entrance of the Criterion Theatre.

But then again, the airman didn’t take the most direct route. And with Greta having been subjected to a tirade of moody drunken mumblings by the airman, having bragged that he’d “once knocked a girl out”, she didn’t argue with him for fear of incurring his wrath, as he led the nervous lady down the thinner, quieter and darker side-streets to the brasserie’s back entrance.

And as they entered Jermyn Street, an almost pitch-black empty side-street behind Piccadilly Circus, as Greta pulled out of her handbag an eight inch metal torch to see her way and possibly alert a passing Policeman to her need for help, the airman snatched the torch from her hand, balking “you won’t be needing that” and pocketed it, as he casually strolled passed the brasserie’s back entrance.

With her heart racing, her eyes wide and her mouth dry, as the airman led her south down St Alban’s Street, a narrow alley heading away from the brasserie, he expressed his wish to give her a goodnight kiss, and in a chillingly eerie statement (possibly uttered barely four nights before to a painfully shy 41 year old pharmacist in Montagu Place), he said “aren’t there any air-raid shelters nearby?”

Although petite, standing her ground, Greta replied “I don’t know and in any case I wouldn’t go in one of them with you”, but as he led her into the ominous silence of the equally dark St James’ Market, in the cold shadow of the Captain’s Cabin pub, the airman dragged Greta into an unlit doorway.

Removing his RAF issue gas-respirator in its beige canvas bag from his left shoulder and placing it on the ground, the airman pulled Greta’s trembling body close as he started to kiss her; the feted stench of tobacco on his breath, as he rammed his tongue deep into her mouth. And as his hands grabbed at her hips, tugged at her blouse and groped at her breasts, she pushed him away gasping “you mustn’t, you mustn’t do that”. But with his passion enflamed and not being a man who took no for an answer, with an odd glint in his eyes, having placed both hands on her quivering cheeks, she thought (having heard her plea) he was either forthcoming with an apology or a tender but friendly kiss? But as his left hand slipped down her face, slowly caressing her neck, he tightly gripped her throat and squeezed, all the while muttering “you won’t, you won’t”, until her vision went black. 

Nobody heard her screams. Nobody saw his face. Nobody found any weapons.

And at 9pm, on Thursday 12th February 1942, at the back of the Criterion Theatre on Piccadilly Circus, barely two hours before the brutal, shocking and sadistic murder of Doris Jouanett, Margaret Mary Theresa Hayward, known to her friends as “Greta” became the fourth victim of The Blackout Ripper.

Just like the others, she was a lone female. Just like the others, she was attacked in private. Just like the others, she was robbed. But unlike the others… she didn’t die.

Hearing shoes scuffling, a muffled croaky voice and seeing a torch frantically flickering, as 24 year old night-porter John Shine approached St Alban’s Street, he spotted a pair of women’s legs slumped on the wet floor and sticking out of an unlit doorway. Sensing something was wrong, John Shine shouted “Police!” at the top of his lungs, panicking the ominous shape which loomed over the collapsed lady, and before he could do anything, The Blackout Ripper disappeared into the darkness.

And although she was unconscious, Greta was alive…

…but did her survival lead to the death of another woman?

At a little after 10pm, barely an hour later; with his heart pumping, his nerves tingling and his bloodlust unsated, having sunk several more whiskies, the slightly dishevelled airman spotted a lone female, standing in the darkened doorway of Oddenino’s restaurant, near the corner of Regent Street and Piccadilly Circus, where just two days before, Evelyn Oatley was last seen alive.

Being a tall, slim and attractive lady, with bobbed flame-red hair, luminous pale skin, stunning grey-eyes and dressed in a black tailored coat, skirt and hat, he was instantly aroused by her. As a 34 year old soon-to-be divorcee who had succumbed to sex-work simply to pay the rent, she reluctantly hopped in a taxi with the drunken airman and took him back to her Paddington flat. And although she was known locally as “Mrs King”, her real name was Kathryn Mulcahy. (Interstitial)

Unlike before, the sozzled airman wasn’t in the mood for small-talk, and having paid her two £1 notes upfront for sex (roughly £60 today), Kathryn sighed “I wish I could make £5 tonight”, at which he flashed his bulging wallet, peeled-off three further £1 notes for her, and in the backseat of the taxi, having got down on his knees, lifted up her skirt and pulled aside her knickers, he began to kiss her genitals, as their taxi drove west along Oxford Street, passing Selfridges, and Doris Jouanett.

Having politely pacified his advances in her soft Irish brogue, stating “don’t be silly, we’ll be in my flat soon enough”, Kathryn was intimidated by his eagerness, as their taxi continued up Edgware Road, along Sussex Gardens and stopped just shy of Paddington Station, outside of 29 Southwick Street.

As the taxi pulled away, a bitterly cold wind blew down the dark and strangely quiet side-street, and although Kathryn shivered, it wasn’t just the icy gust which riddled her skin with goose-bumps, and as she led the amorous airman, off the side-street, under a darkened archway and into eerie silence of Southwick Mews, she unlocked her front door, and welcomed into her flat The Blackout Ripper.

With Kathryn having been out most of the day, and a winter frost having settled on the icy snow, her small second-floor flat was chillingly cold, and being only sparsely furnished with few comforts (just the basics, like a bed with a sheet, a table with a candlestick, a wash-stand with a packet of razor-blades, and a wardrobe full of clothes, hats, curling tongs and a collection of kitchen cutlery) she popped a shilling in the coin-slot of her gas-fire, to warm the flat up, as they undressed.

Being naked, all except for her boots (with her toes too cold to be exposed), Kathryn was desperate for the sex to be over-and-done with quickly, but with the airman ignoring her pleas, the unrolled condom in her hand and his penis still flaccid, he continued fondling her breasts and kissing her vagina.

Lying flat on her back, her trembling body sprawled diagonally across the bed, the airman never once attempted to have sex with Kathryn; instead straddling her slim pale torso, with his knees either side of her hips and an odd glint in his wide blue eyes, he placed both hands on her quivering cheeks, as if to tenderly kiss her, but as his left hand slowly caressed the nap of her neck, he tightly gripped her throat and squeezed, until her vision went black. 

But as a feisty Irish woman, raised by a drunken father, an absent mother and several brothers, who had suffered at the hands of an abusive husband and had given her only child up for adoption, although timid, Kathryn was a born fighter. And having yanked both of thumbs back so hard that the bone almost snapped, making him squeal, having freed her leg, Kathryn booted him squarely in the chest, kicking her assailant right off the bed.

Not wishing to spend a second longer with this maniac, Kathryn ran from her flat screaming “Murder! Police!”, banging on the doors of her neighbours – Agnes Morris and Kitty McQuillan – who came to the naked woman’s aide. But he didn’t run. Instead, seeming unflustered, almost as if nothing had actually happened, as the airman calmly dressed, fixed his hair and sparked up a cigarette (even stooping so low as to ask Kitty if she had a light), being cocky in his lack of haste, he casually apologised to Kathryn, tossed her five £1 notes, and left.

The time was roughly 11pm. The date was Thursday 12th February 1942. And with his anger rising, his hatred fuming and his bloodlust unsated, having turned right and strolled down Southwick Street, The Blackout Ripper disappeared into the darkness of Sussex Gardens, and the home of his final victim.

But unlike his other attacks; this time there were screams, this time there were witnesses, this time they had seen his face, and this time he had left behind evidence. And not just the canvas belt to his blue military tunic he’d misplaced in Kathryn Mulcahy’s flat. No, this was something different.

Roughly one mile away, in a dark alley at the back of Piccadilly Circus, having sustained cuts, bruises, concussion and a fractured larynx, although she struggled to breathe, with the aid of the night-porter John Shine, Greta Hayward made her way to West End Central Police Station on nearby Saville Row, where she gave a description of the man who had attacked her.

Although a little fuzzy at first, Greta quickly compiled a detailed description of her unnamed attacker, stating he was “a British Airman, aged 30-ish, 5 foot 9 inches tall, clean shaven, soft features, light blue eyes, slim build, fair-haired, dressed in an Royal Air Force blue uniform, with long black grate coat, a woollen side-cap with a white cadet’s emblem, and over his left shoulder he carried a black gas respirator in beige canvas bag”. And although her depiction was highly accurate, with his attacks all occurring during World War Two, that description could easily match one of thousands of airmen in and around London, that day. But one detail was unique…

…in his haste to escape, Greta’s attacker had dropped his gas-mask; and although it was nothing more than a standard-issue gas respirator, made in a generic black rubber, fitted with a readily available air-filter and carried in a nondescript beige canvas bag, which was mass-produced, cheaply made and widely distributed to all military personnel across the entire British Armed Forces…

…inside his gas respirator, for fear of confusing it with the millions of others which dotted the country, in black permanent marker, he had written his Royal Air Force serial number; a very unique six-digit code and identifiable to just one man. And his name was Gordon Frederick Cummins.

OUTRO: Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for listening to Murder Mile.

Don’t forget to join us next week for the sixth part of the true story of The Blackout Ripper.

And, although we still have a few more episodes to go, if you have any questions about the previous episodes, please message me on social media, and I will include these in a special Q&A episode at the end of this series.

This week’s recommended podcast of the week is Eye For An Eye, hosted by Lisa and Matt, Eye For An Eye is a weekly true-crime podcast which delves into the deeply disturbing mind of murderers, sociopaths and psychotics, with a big dose of humour, and songs a-plenty. If this sounds perfect for you, check out the promo for Eye For An Eye. (Play Promo)

A big thank you goes to my brand new Patreon supporters who get exclusive access to original Murder Mile content, including crime-scene photos, murder location videos and Patron-only Extra Mile episodes for the first 20 cases. They are Jim Balfour, Steve Stadalink, Kathryn Williams, and an extra special friend who asked to be anonymous, all have asked “which bits of human flesh are the tastiest?” Well friends, in ascending order they are; the bum-bum, the boobie, the winkie, the nu-nu, the flaps, the muffin-top and the calamari. Bon appetite.

Murder Mile was researched, written & performed by myself, with the main musical themes written and performed by Erik Stein & Jon Boux of Cult With No Name.

Next week’s episode… is part six of The Blackout Ripper.

Thank you for listening and sleep well.

*** LEGAL DISCLAIMER ***
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 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, therefore mistakes will be made. As stated at the beginning of each episode (and as is clear by the way it is presented) Murder Mile 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. It is not a full representation of the case, the people or the investigation in its entirety, and therefore should not be taken as such. It is also often (for the sake of clarity and drama) presented from a single person's perspective, usually (but not exclusively) the victim's, therefore it will contain a certain level of bias to get across this single perspective, which may not be the overall opinion of those involved or associated.
*** LEGAL DISCLAIMER ***

Credits: The Murder Mile true-crime podcast was researched, written and recorded by Michael J Buchanan-Dunne, with the sounds recorded on location (where possible), and the music written and performed by Erik Stein & Jon Boux of Cult With No Name. ​​Additional music was written and performed by various artists, as used under the Creative Common Agreement 4.0. A list of tracks used and the links are listed on the relevant transcript blog here

Michael J Buchanan-Dunne is a writer, crime historian, podcaster and tour-guide who runs Murder Mile Walks, a guided tour of Soho’s most notorious murder cases, hailed as “one of the top ten curious, quirky, unusual and different things to do in London” and featuring 12 murderers, including 3 serial killers, across 15 locations, totaling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.

If you love true-crime podcasts, check out the Murder Mile true-crime podcast on iTunes, Soundcloud, Podbean, Pocketcast, Stitcher, Acast, Tune-In, Otto Radio or Libsyn

In the second part of Murder Mile's three part blog on whether a star-sign, birthday or lunar cycle could be a factor in whether anyone is predisposed to being a serial killer, we present... Serial Killers and their Birthdays. Which is not to say that the day a serial killer was born on is the sole determining factor on whether someone becomes a serial killer, that's just stupid - but that (as seen in my blog on serial killer's star-signs in which three times as many killers were born under Gemini than any other star sign), what I'm asking is could this be a contributing factor? 

So, what can you tell about a person's personality by the day they were born? Is Wednesday's child full of woe, Friday's child loving and giving, or are they both a bubbling pot of rage and hatred waiting to explode? And - compared with my other studies on murderer's names, jobs, music, foods and favourite drinks, etc - do you also share similarities with a serial killer? Let's find out. As before, the following is taken from a sample of 100 of the world's most infamous serial killers, mass-murders, killer couples and spree-killers, with a few exceptions where I was unable to track their date of birth (listed in the footnotes**). 

Listen to Ep1 of the Murder Mile true-crime podcast, which focuses of Britain's most infamous and least known mass murder, the Denmark Place fire? Press PLAY on the media player below.

Subscribe to the Murder Mile true-crime podcast on Podcast Addict, iTunes, Soundcloud, Podbean, Pocketcast, Stitcher, Acast, Tune-In, Otto Radio or Libsyn

What Date Were Serial Killers / Murderers Born On?

Here's three handy charts created by the Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast showing you a serial killer / murderer / spree-killer / war-criminal for every day of the year. If you'd like to download them, click here - JAN to APR, MAY to AUG and SEPT to DEC.

Which Serial Killer Shares My Birth Month? 

• JANUARY: Cynthia Coffman, Dorothea Puente, George Joseph Smith, Harold Shipman, John Bodkin Adams, Jeremy Bamber, Ian Brady, Joel Rifkin, Luis Alfredo Garavito and Ronald Dominique. (a total of 10 )
• FEBRUARY: Aileen Wuornos, Gary Ridgway, David Birnie, John Straffen, Richard Ramirez, Lee Boyd Malvo, Robert Napper and Stephen Port (9, oddly both Wuornos & Ramirez were born on a the 29th of the month, a leap year). 
• MARCH: Colin Ireland, Dennis Rader, Donald Henry Gaskins, Doug Clark, John Wayne Gacy and Peter Manuel (6). 
• APRIL: Alexander Pichushkin, Henri Desire Landru, Orville Lynn Majors, John Reginald Christie, Judy Buenoano, Robert Black, Herbert Mullin and Steven Wright. (8) 
• MAY: Albert Fish, Anthony Hardy, Catherine Birnie, David Copeland, H H Holmes, Karla Homolka, Michael Ryan, Ted Kaczynski, Richard Chase, Peter Kurten, Kenneth Bianchi, Jeffrey Dahmer and Levi Bellfield. (13) 
• JUNE: Arthur Shawcross, David Berkowitz, Peter Sutcliffe, Robert Maudsley and Trevor Hardy. (4)
• JULY: Anatoly Yuriyovych Onoprienko, Myra Hindley, Glen Edward Rogers and John George Haigh (4)
• AUGUST: Carol M. Bundy, Donald Neilson, Ed Gein, Henry Lee Lucas, Faye Copeland, Paul Bernardo, Peter Tobin, Raymond Morris and Rodney Alcala (9)
• SEPTEMBER: Albert DeSalvo, Graham Young, Fred West and Patrick MacKay (4)
• OCTOBER: Andrei Chikatilo, Beverley Allitt, Peter Bryan, Robert “Willie” Pickton, Velma Barfield, Javed Iqbal Mughal and Fritz Haarmann. (7) 
• NOVEMBER: David Ray Parker, Dennis Nilsen, Derrick Bird, Kristen Gilbert, Martha Beck, Moses Sithole, Ted Bundy and Rose West. (8)
• DECEMBER: Dean Arnold Corll, Edmund Kemper, Stephen Griffiths, Steven Grieveson, Janie Lou Gibbs, John Allen Muhammad, Larry Eyler, Randall Woodfield, Ray Copeland and Ray Fernandez (10)

Which Serial Killer Shares My Day Of Birth?

MONDAY: David Berkowitz, David Ray Parker, Richard Ramirez, Donald Henry Gaskins, Fred West, Harold Shipman, Javed Iqbal Mughal, Orville Lynn Majors, Ed Gein, Kristen Gilbert, Lee Boyd Malvo, Karla Homolka, Henri Desire Landru, Robert “Willie” Pickton, Robert Black, Rodney Alcala, Steven Grieveson, Trevor Hardy and Paul Bernardo. (20)
TUESDAY: Alexander Pichushkin, Colin Ireland, Joel Rifkin, John Wayne Gacy, Moses Sithole, Randall Woodfield, Peter Tobin, Raymond Morris, Richard Chase, Kenneth Bianchi and Ronald Dominique (11)
WEDNESDAY: Aileen Wuornos, Arthur Shawcross, Carol M. Bundy, Derrick Bird, Catherine Birnie, Dorothea Puente, Doug Clark, Ray Copeland, Michael Ryan and Stephen Griffiths (10). 
THURSDAY: Albert DeSalvo, Albert Fish, Anthony Hardy, H H Holmes, Faye Copeland, Myra Hindley, Patrick MacKay, Steven Wright, Ray Fernandez, Martha Beck, George Joseph Smith and John Straffen. (12) 
FRIDAY: Beverley Allitt, Dennis Nilsen, Dennis Rader, Andrei Chikatilo, Cynthia Coffman, David Birnie, Gary Ridgway, Levi Bellfield, Luis Alfredo Garavito, Robert Maudsley, Ted Kaczynski, Robert Napper, Jeremy Bamber and Herbert Mullin. (14) 
SATURDAY: David Copeland, Anatoly Onoprienko, Donald Neilson, Edmund Kemper, Jeffrey Dahmer, John Allen Muhammad, John Bodkin Adams, John George Haigh, Peter Bryan, Peter Kurten, Stephen Port, Velma Barfield, John Reginald Christie and Fritz Haarmann (14)
SUNDAY: Dean Arnold Corll, Glen Edward Rogers, Graham Young, Henry Lee Lucas, Ian Brady, Janie Lou Gibbs, Judy Buenoano, Larry Eyler, Peter Manuel, Rose West, Ted Bundy and Peter Sutcliffe (12). 

Here, let's delve a little deeper into whether the day you were born affects your personality, with the following details kindly purloined from the numerology website dayofbirth.com. You can find out what day you were born on there. ​

​MONDAY: you are blessed with a good memory, softly spoken, often whimsical, sensitive, emotional and prone to get nervous easily. You love to spend time with family and friends, and are always the pacifier of quarrels. Men born on Mondays lead a disciplined life and are immensely successful in their jobs. Women born on Mondays grow up to be very good wives and mothers, who are loving and caring of their families.

​Serial killers who were born on a Monday include Fred West (who brutally tortured and murdered his own daughter, together with his wife), Harold Shipman (who euthenised 287+ elderly patients) and Ed Gein (who slept every night snuggled-up with the decomposing corpse of his dead mother)

​TUESDAY: you are very active, lively and vivacious, with warrior-like qualities, brave and serious in your work, and yet always willing to help others out. A great worrier who attracts problems, finds it difficult to let go, or simplify their life. You are overtly materialistic, tend to overindulge and are bad with money. Although you ask your mother’s opinion a lot, you tend to go your own way, and because you often don’t think before you speak others often misunderstand you. You are hardworking, sensitive but often difficult to deal with.

​Serial killers who were born on a Tuesday include John Wayne Gacy (the killer clown who kept the dismembered corpse's of his 33 victims underneath his floorboards) and "Joel the Ripper" Rifkin (who scattered his victim's limbs far and wide, whether in the East River or dumped on the New Jersey golf course). 

​WEDNESDAY: you are witty, creative, disorganised, not concerned about looks, but are hugely curious in nature and eager to learn and develop as a person. You are satisfied with life, efficient at work, but often short-tempered when it comes to maintaining good relationships. You are materialistic, highly intelligent, often sly, and always do things which warrant something in return. Wednesday’s woman (especially after 6pm) often exhibit very different characteristics to those listed above.

​Serial killers who were born on a Wednesday include Michael Ryan (spree killer of the "Hungerford Massacre) and Aileen Wuornos (prostitute who murdered seven of her punters). 

​THURSDAY: you are wise, optimistic, understanding, respected and attract a lot of attention wherever you go. You’re a good leader, who carves their own path, and is very independent, yet you are stubborn, difficult, unable to accept criticism and easily bored. Although you are well behaved and treat others with respect, you often hold a grudge and take revenge. You are intelligent, conscientious, irritable and “an unusual character”, which makes you difficult for others to cope with.

​Serial killers who were born on a Thursday include Albert DeSalvo (aka the boston strangler who lured his way into his victim's apartments by measuring them for the latest fashions, hence he was dubbed "The Measuring Man") and Myra Hindley (who coerced young children into her car - for her and her boyfriend Ian Brady to kill - with the promise of sweets if they'd help her with a little task)

​FRIDAY: you are a creative and artistic spirit, you are the harbinger of peace, love, beauty and pleasure. You are happy-go-lucky, sensitive, but do not take heartbreak well at all. Friday’s woman is highly emotional, very possessive, yet quick witted and business minded. Friday’s male loves being a ladies man, but terrible with family affairs. You are intuitive, spiritual, worldly wise and strong in constitution (but when you get ill, it takes you longer than normal to recover).

​Serial killers who were born on a Friday include Cynthia Coffman, Beverly "The Angel of Death" Allitt and Britain's most notorious serial-killer Dennis Nilsen, whose murderous killing spree of 15+ victims and 9+ attempted murders was sparked when "Twinkle" his boyfriend left him. read more about this in my blog on London's Deadliest Pubs. 

​SATURDAY: you are serious, responsible, trusted, but a real worrier who lives in the past. You are very intelligent, a perfectionist, who maintains a high standard in everything you do, but is prone to rebellion (without good reason), hard to control, stubborn and unlikely to trust others, even close friends, colleagues or family.

Serial killers who were born on a Saturday include Peter "The Vampire of Dusseldorf" Kurten, Jeffrey "The Killer Cannibal" Dahmer, John "The Acid Bath Murderer" George Haigh, John Reginald Christie (the friendly neighbourhood abortionist, strangler and necrophile) and Velma Barfield (who murdered six residents in the old people's home that she ran). 

​SUNDAY: you have a positive attitude to life, generous, trustworthy, and yet are introverted, with very few friends, owing to a deeply suspicious nature and an inability to trust others. You are too sensitive, an over-thinker, a procrastinator, who loses focus from reality. Although helpful and caring, your stubborn independent streak (combined with a short-fuse) means you find it hard to work with others, making it difficult for you to compromise or conform.

Serial killers who were born on a Sunday include such notorious loners Peter "Yorkshire Ripper" Sutcliffe, Ian "Moors Murderer" Brady, Rose West and Ted Bundy (serial killer, burglar, rapist of 30+ young women, who once described himself as "the most cold-hearted son of a bitch you'll ever meet".

Whether you believe in Numerology or not, I think it's safe to say, by the personality traits alone, steer clear of anyone who is was born on a Sunday or a Monday, as - even without comparing them to serial killers - there's very little about them to like. 

Join me for next week's blog which asks: "does the lunar cycle, on the day you were born, mean you could be a serial killer?"​ 

** Those I couldn't find the exact birth dates of were Linda Hazzard 1867, Catherine Flannagan, “Black Widows of Liverpool” 1829, Margaret Higgins “Black Widows of Liverpool” 1829, Mary Elizabeth Wilson 1893, Rhonda Belle Martin 1907, Tillie Klimek 1876, Jane Toppan 1857, Amy Archer-Gilligan 1868, Amelia Dyer 1837, Gordon Frederick Cummins 1913/14, William Burke “The body snatchers” 1792, William Hare “The body snatchers” 1792, and Michael Lupo 1953. Oddly, excluding those born overseas, the majority were working-class females. 

If you "enjoyed" this blog post, take a peek at other intreguing topics such as; Killer Couples Part 1 & Part 2, Life, Death & Whole Life Sentences, Famous British Serial Killers - Where Are They Now? Serial Killers & Murderers Who Were Never Caught, London's Deadliest & Often Forgotten Disasters, KIllers Born During a Full Moon, Killer's Birthdays / Star Signs, Serial Killers Who Were On TV, Celebrities Who Have Killed, London's Railway of Death, Serial Killers as Kids and the World's Weirdest Death Rituals

Michael J Buchanan-Dunne is a writer, crime historian and tour-guide who runs Murder Mile Walks, a guided tour of Soho’s most notorious murder cases, hailed as “one of the top ten quirky & unusual things to do in London” and featuring 12 murderers, including 3 serial killers, across 15 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.

If you love true-crime podcasts, subscribe to the Murder Mile true-crime podcast on iTunes, Podcast Addict, Podbean, Pocketcast, Stitcher, Acast, Tune-In, Otto Radio or Libsyn

As a Valentine's Day treat, here's the second part of my list of deadly couples; whose dark fantasties, morbid passions and murderous desires only come to the surface when they fall head-over-heels in love with a kindred spirit, who is willing to do anything to prove their love for each other... even going so far as to commit murder. Often, when we think of "couples who kill", we usually think of Myra Hindley & Ian Brady, Fred & Rose West and even Bonnie & Clyde, but they were not the first and they won't be the last. What follows is a list of "murderous lovers", so shocking are the stories that it's hard to simplify them, and so long is the list that I've barely touched the surface and had to split this list into a two-part blog, the first part can be viewed here. Warning: this blog contains graphic (& very unromantic) details. 

Jasmine Richardson & Jeremy Steinke
On 23rd April 2006, 23 year old self-confessed “vampire” Jeremy Steinke and his 12 year old girlfriend Jasmine Richardson brutally murdered her family including her father Marc (42), mother Debra (48) and brother Jacob (8) in the basement of their home, it is claimed they’d been inspired by the film Natural Born Killers which Steinke told an undercover officer is “the best love story of all time”. 

On 15th December 2008, Steinke was sentenced to 3 life sentences and is eligible for parole in 25 years. On 9th July 2007, Richardson was found guilty of three counts of first degree murder, but was sentenced to 10 years (the maximum sentence given her age); with 4 ½ spent in a psychiatric institution and the remainder as a student at the University of Calgary and Mount Royal University (Calgary). On 6th May 2016 her sentence was completed and she was freed. Read more. 

Jens Söring & Elizabeth Haysom
In 1985, Canadian couple Elizabeth Roxanne Haysom & German national Jens Söring murdered her parents - Derek & Nancy Haysom – in their Boonsboro home (Virginia). They’d been brutally slashed, stabbed and (so ferocious was the attack that they were) almost decapitated. Both blamed the other during their trials – even though it is believed that Jens committed the murders - but both were found guilty. 

Elizabeth Haysom acknowledged her guilt and was sentenced to 90 years at the Fluvanna Correctional Centre (Troy, VA) and won’t be eligible for parole until 2032, aged 68. Jens Söring fought extradition, and following a plea bargain (which saw the death sentence dropped) was sentenced to life imprisonment at the Buckingham Correctional Center in Dillwyn (VA), and became eligible for parole in 2003... but his application was rejected. Jens Söring maintains his innocence. A recent documentary cast doubt on the conviction. Read more. ​

Judith & Alvin Neelley
On 25th September 1982, Judith & Alvin Neelley kidnapped Lisa Ann Millican from the Riverbend Mall in Rome (Georgia). Driven to the Neelley’s motel room, the frightened 13 year old girl was repeatedly raped and tortured for three days, and later injected with liquid drain cleaner in the neck, arms and buttocks, which – although a hideously painful death – didn’t kill her, so Judith shot her in the back and tossed her body off a cliff. 

One week later, with their sadism unsated, the Neeley’s abducted young couple Janice Chatman & John Hancock and were brought back to the same motel room, during which John Hancock was shot in the head… but did not die, and subsequently identified Judith & Alvin Neelley as the culprits. To avoid Georgia’s mandatory death penalty, Alvin pleaded guilty to murder and received a life sentence served at the Bostick State Prison until his death in November 2005, whilst undergoing surgery. Having given birth in prison, Judith Neelley was convicted of the torture & murder of Lisa Ann Millican and was sentenced to death at the Julia Tutwiler Prison for Women (Alabama), making her the youngest woman on death row in the USA. But on 15th January 1999, days from execution, she was granted clemency and the state governor commuted her sentence to life in prison without parole. She is now 52. Watch a documentary about them here. ​

Michelle Michaud & James Daveggio
On 2nd December 1997, sadistic lovers Michelle Michaud (38) & James Daveggio (42) lured 22 year old university student Vanessa Lei Samson into their green Dodge caravan (specially fitted with hooks and ropes) in Pleasanton (California) and repeatedly raped and tortured her as they drove to South Lake Tahoe, forcing her to wear a rubber-ball gag, strangled her with nylon rope and then dumped her body in the snow. 

Both were found guilty, sentenced to death and are currently on Death Row. At their trial, Judge Goodman said "the death penalty is the appropriate penalty", adding that Samson's slaying and torture was "vile, cruel, senseless, depraved, brutal, evil and vicious", especially after – in her own defence – Michaud described each assault as an “adventure” and “huntings". Records show that Daveggio & Michaud sexually assaulted at least six other young women, two of whom were relatives. Read more. ​

Paul Bernardo & Karla Homolka – The Barbie & Ken Killers
In October 1987, Karla Homolka met Paul Bernardo and fell in love. But unlike most loving/sexual relationships, between 4th May 1987 and 27th December 1992, she encouraged his sadistic sexual desires and together they’d stalk, assault, abduct, drug, rape, torture and murder at least 20 young women in the Scarborough area of Toronto (Canada), as they exited buses late at night… although the true victim count is estimated to be as many as 100+. Found guilty of sexual assault, kidnapping and murder, Paul Bernardo was declared a dangerous offender in 1995 having amassed a score of 35/40 on the psychopathy checklist and was sentenced to life imprisonment at Millhaven Institution. 

He is eligible for parole this year. Karla Homolka agreed a plea-bargain, testified against Bernardo, and was subsequently sentenced to just 12 years in prison, having claimed she was an “unwilling accomplice”, even though there is evidence against this, including video footage of Karla performing oral sex on their victims. Karla Homolka is currently living with her children in Châteauguay, Quebec. Read more. ​

Ray & Faye Copeland
Aged 76 & 69, Ray & Faye Copeland are the oldest couple sentenced to death in the United States. Between 17th October 1986 and 1st May 1989, the Copeland’s killed at least five homeless drifters, shooting them with a .22 Marlin rifle to the back of the head and burying their bodies in a nearby barn. Following a conviction for fraud, Ray couldn’t buy or sell cattle, so he’d employ hobos as farmhands, got them to buy cattle for him using fake cheques, and then the men would ”disappear”. 

Both were sentenced to death. When Ray learned that his wife of 50 years had been sentenced to death, he unemotionally said “well, those things happen to some, you know". But neither Ray nor Faye were executed. On 19th October 1993 Ray died of natural causes and in September 2002, following a severe stroke which left her paralysed, and having been moved to the Morningside Centre nursing home in Chillicothe (Missouri), Faye died aged 82. Read more. ​

Ricky Davis & Dena Riley
In April 2006, serial rapist and methamphetamine addicts Richard D. Davis & Dena D. Riley, who were once the FBI’s most wanted couple, kidnapped, tortured and murdered mother-of-four Michelle Huff-Ricci (36). When Police searched the couple’s apartment, whilst investigating the disappearance of Marsha Speer on 14th May 2006, they discovered a stash of videotapes depicting the torture, beating, rape and strangulation of Marsha Speer and Michelle Huff-Ricci. One tape was more than two hours long. 

The bodies of Marsha Speer and Michelle Huff-Ricci were subsequently dumped and doused with lighter fluid. But before David & Riley could be arrested, they fled, sparking an 8-day manhunt, during which they abducted and sexually assaulted a 5 year old girl. In August 2008, Dena Riley & Ricky David were given nine life sentences. Read more. ​

​Suzan & James Carson
Now, I don’t wish to denigrate stoners but… between March 1981 and March 1983, heavy cannabis-users and radical anarchists (who predicted a nuclear apocalypse within the year) Suzan & James Carson murdered three people in California and San Francisco Bay. First, their 22 year old roommate Keryn Barnes, who’d been stabbed 13 times and had her skull bashed in with a frying pan, as Suzan was convinced she was a witch. Secondly, Clarke Stephen, a fellow worker at the cannabis farm, who Suzan also thought was a witch, who they shot, burned and buried. 

And thirdly, whilst on the run, a 30 year old hitchhiker called Jon Charles Hellyar, who (have you guessed it?) Suzan thought was a witch. Whilst driving at speed on Route 101 near Santa Rosa (Sonoma County), Suzan repeatedly stabbed Jon and James shot him dead at point blank range, all in view of passing motorists. On 12th June 1984, the Carsons were found guilty of murder and sentenced to 25 years a piece for the murder of Jon Charles Hellyar, with their sentence extended to 50 to 75 years for the two subsequent murders. Read more. ​

Ray Fernandez & Martha Beck - The Lonely Hearts Killers
Between 1947-49, convicted fraudster Raymond Fernandez and his lover Martha Beck killed 20+ women who’d they’d met through lonely hearts adverts. Desperate to marry her lover, Martha fled Milton (Florida) to New York City, abandoning her children with the Salvation Army, believing this to be a sign of her unconditional love for him. Besotted and fully accepting of his criminal plan, Martha posed as his sister / chaperone as Raymond would lure hopeful “lonely hearts” to his Long Island apartment, and con monies out of them, having made them believe they were in love with a much younger man. 

Unfortunately, Martha had an awful temper and – in fits of jealousy, witnessing the couples kissing, or worse – would smash the “lonely hearts” over the head with a hammer, strangle them, drown them... and even their children. Fernandez quickly confessed and on 8th March 1951, both were executed by electric chair at the infamous Sing Sing prison (Ossining, New York). Their final words were Raymond: "I wanna shout it out; I love Martha! What do the public know about love?" and Martha: "My story is a love story. But only those tortured by love can know what I mean. I am not unfeeling, stupid or moronic. I am a woman who had a great love and always will have it. Imprisonment in the Death House has only strengthened my feeling for Raymond". Read more. ​

If you "enjoyed" this blog post, why not take a peek at; Serial Killers & Murderers Who Were Never Caught, London's Deadliest & Often Forgotten Disasters, Are More Serial KIllers Born During a Full Moon, Killer's Birthdays / Star Signs, Serial Killers Who Were On TV, Celebrities Who Have Killed, London's Railway of Death, Serial Killers as Kids and the World's Weirdest Death Rituals

Michael J Buchanan-Dunne is a writer, crime historian and tour-guide who runs Murder Mile Walks, a guided tour of Soho’s most notorious murder cases, hailed as “one of the top ten quirky & unusual things to do in London” and featuring 12 murderers, including 3 serial killers, across 15 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.

If you love true-crime podcasts, subscribe to the Murder Mile true-crime podcast on iTunes, Podcast Addict, Podbean, Pocketcast, Stitcher, Acast, Tune-In, Otto Radio or Libsyn

Some people don't feel like they aren a whole person until they meet that certain special someone who "completes them". Whether you believe this or not? This can be the basis of the world's most successful marriages. Unfortunately the same can also be said for serial killers, especially those sadistic couples whose dark fantasties, morbid passions and murderous predelictions only come to the surface when they fall head-over-heels in love with a kindred spirit, who is willing to do anything to prove their love for each other... even going so far as to commit murder. 

So, when we think of "couples who kill", we usually think of Myra Hindley & Ian Brady, Fred & Rose West and even Bonnie & Clyde, three of the most sadistic couples who have every existed (it could be argued), but they were not the first and they won't be the last. As a Valentine's Day treat, what follows is a list of "murderous lovers", so shocking are the stories that it's hard to simplify them, and so long is the list that I've barely touched the surface and had to split this list into a two-part blog, to be continued next week. Warning: contains graphic (& unromantic) details. 

​Alton Coleman and Debra Brown
Alton Coleman was a spree killer who brutally raped and murdered eight adults and children (some as young as 9 years old) across six states in the American Midwest, between May 29th and 13th July 1984, with the help of his accomplice Debra Brown.  

Although Brown previously had no criminal record nor history of violence, she was complicit in all of the murders having (it is claimed) had a childhood head trauma which caused her to suffer from dependent personality disorder. Coleman received a death sentence in three states and was executed in Ohio on 26th April 2002 by lethal injection. Having been declared as “intellectually disabled”, Brown’s death sentence was commuted to a life sentence, which she is serving at the Dayton Correctional Institution (Ohio). Read more.

​Charles Starkweather & Caril Fugate – “The Badlands Killers”
Charles Starkweather was 19 year old spree killer who – with his 14 year old girlfriend, Caril Ann Fugate – raped and murdered eleven people (mostly by a shotgun blast to the head), during a 60 day crime spree from 1st December 1957 to 29th January 1958. Starkweather’s first victim was Robert Colvert, a gas-station attendant who refused to sell Starkweather a stuffed animal on credit and later killed Velda & Marion Bartlett (Carol’s mother and step-father). Although Caril Ann was complicit in the killings, she would later claim in court that she was Starkweather’s hostage. 

Starkweather was executed by electric chair on 25th June 1959 in Nebraska State Penitentiary. Caril Ann was sentenced to life imprisonment at Nebraska Correctional Center in Nebraska, and after 17 years was paroled. She currently lives in Hillsdale (Michigan) with her husband Fredrick, and until her recent retirement was an observer for the National Weather Service. Read more. ​

Carol M. Bundy and Doug Clark – “The Sunset Strip Killers”
Sadistic sweethearts Carol M Bundy and Doug Clark had a n odd relationship fuelled by dark fantasies, as Clark would often bring home young prostitutes for them both to have sex with, his ultimate goal being to kill a woman during sex and “feel her vaginal contractions during death”. Between 1st June and 26th August 1980, Bundy & Clark’s sick fantasies turned into a reality as Clark murdered 6 teenage prostitutes; forcing them to perform lewd sex acts, shooting them in the head, defiling their corpses and dumping their bodies, once taking a victim's head as a trophy. 

Clark is reported to have said that if ever they were arrested, he would take the blame… but at his trail, he blamed Bundy for everything. Found guilty by the court, Doug Clark was sentenced to death on 15th February 1983 and – 33 years on – still sits on Death Row in San Quentin Prison (California) with Carol M Bundy receiving a life sentence having entered a plea bargain. She died in prison on 9th December 2003 from heart failure. Read more. ​

​Charlene and Gerald Gallego – “The Love Slave Killers”
Between 11th September 1978 and 2nd November 1980, married couple Charlene & Gerald Gallego murdered 10 victims, some as young as 13 years old, across the states of California, Nevada and Oregon. Unable to be aroused during normal sex, Gerald (aided by Charlene) lured their terrified teenage victims into a van, where they were repeatedly raped, tortured and abused over the course of an evening or night, and then driven to a secluded spot, bludgeoned, shot in the head and their bodies dumped. 

Best-friends Brenda Judd (14) & Sandra Colley (13) who were abducted together, weren’t discovered until four years later when a tractor unearthed their skeletal remains. In 1984, Gerald Gallego was sentenced to death in two states (Nevada & California) but died of rectal cancer on 18th July 2002 at Nevada State Prison. Charlene testified against him in exchange for a plea bargain and having served 16 years and 8 months of her sentence, Charlene Gallego was released from Nevada State Prison and moved to Fair Oaks (California) where she changed her name to Mary Martinez. She is now 60 years old. Read more.

​Cynthia Coffman and James Gregory Marlow
Between 11th October & 12th November 1986, newly-weds Cynthia Coffman & James Marlow murdered 4 women who were withdrawing cash from an ATM. Each victim was robbed, abducted, strangled, sodomised and their bodies were dumped in a shallow grave, all whilst Cynthia & Gregory were high on methamphetamine. 

With very little evidence, Police hoped for a bit of luck, and it came when their third victim’s chequebook was found in a dumpster near Laguna Niguel, hidden inside a fast-food takeaway bag, which contained bank statements bearing the names Cynthia Coffman and James Marlow. Besotted with each other, Cynthia & Gregory married on 30th July 1986, barely months before the murders, and as a mark of her love, Cynthia had tattooed on her buttock “Property of The Folsom Wolf” (Gregory’s nickname). But upon visiting Cynthia during the trial, her lawyer asked if there was anything she wanted, she replied “Yeah! Find someone who can help me lose this damn tattoo!”. Both Cynthia & Gregory are on Death Row in San Bernardino (California) with Cynthia Coffman being the first woman to receive a death sentence in the state since capital punishment was reinstated in 1977. Read more. ​

​David and Catherine Birnie – “The Moorhouse Murderers”
Between 6th October and 5th November 1986, married couple David & Catherine Birnie of 3 Moorhouse Street in Willagee (a suburb of Perth, Western Australia) murdered four young women - Mary Neilson (22), Susannah Candy (15), Noelene Patterson (31), Denise Brown (21) - and attempted to kill Kate Moir (17), many in their own home. Fuelled by sick fantasies, the Birnie’s would abduct, gag, chain to a bed and rape their victims, then drive them to a secluded spot, where their terrified victim would be strangled, stabbed and buried in a shallow grave. 

Their victims were not known to them, they were merely strangers who were either hitchhiking, stranded, waiting for a bus or were replying to an advert for a set of tyres. Luckily, following her abduction and rape, 17 year old Kate Moir escaped and called the Police. David & Catherine Birnie were sentenced to four life terms. One day before his trial having raped a fellow inmate, David Birnie committed suicide by hanging in his cell at Casuarina Prison on 7th October 2005 at 1.33am. Catherine Birnie is imprisoned in Bandyup Women's Prison; her 2007 and 2010 application for parole was rejected, with Jim McGinty (Attorney General of Western Australia) marking her papers as “never to be released”. Her case is up for review in 2019. Read more. 

​Delfina and María de Jesús González – “Las Poquianchis”
Following the arrest of Josefina Gutiérrez, a known kidnapper of young girls in Guanajuato on 14th January 1964, Police arrested Delfina and María de Jesús González, two sisters from Guanajuato (north-central Mexico) who ran a large-scale prostitution ring known as Rancho el Angel near the city of San Francisco del Rincón. Inside the brothel they found the rotting corpses of 80 women, 11 men and numerous fetuses. 

From the early 1950’s onwards, Delfine & Maria had advertised for housemaids, but had abducted those who applied for the job, injected them heroin till they sustained a heavy drug-addiction and forced them into prostitution. When their prisoners/prostitutes became too ill, too unwilling, lost their looks, or were so badly damaged internally from being repeatedly raped, Defline & Maria murdered and dumped their bodies. Along with any unwanted babies, and any male customer who they felt was a suitable target for robbery. Both were sentenced to 40 years; Delfina died in Irapuato prison on 17th October 1968 when a workmen doing repairs above her cell “accidentally” dropped a bucket of cement on her head. Maria was subsequently freed in the mid-1990’s having completed her sentence, and vanished into obscurity. Read more. ​

​Gwendolyn Graham & Cathy Wood – “The Lethal Lovers”
in January & February 1987, two nurses aides - Gwendolyn Graham and Catherine May Wood – at Alpine Manor (Walker, Michigan) suffocated five vulnerable elderly patients, aged 65 to 97 years old, who all had Alzheimer's disease. Their victims were not murdered out of malice or for financial gain, but as part of a twisted love-bond between the two lesbian lovers, who chose their victims based on whether their first initial would spell “M-U-R-D-E-and finally - R)”. 

Ultimately the couple broke up, and Catherine Wood’s ex-husband went to the Police having been told about the murders which Wood blamed entirely on Graham. On 4th & 5th December 1988, both women were arrested and charged with two of the five murders (as three of their victims had already been cremated). On 3rd November 1989, Graham convicted of five counts of murder and given five life sentences at Women's Huron Valley Correctional Facility (Michigan). Wood – who testified against Graham – received a lesser sentence of second degree murder and is due for release from Federal Correctional Institution (Tallahassee, Florida) on 6th June 2021. The Alpine Manor nursing home – unsurprisingly - went out of business. Read more. ​

Part Two of Killer Couples is available here next Wednesday 25th January

​If you "enjoyed" this blog post, why not take a peek at; Serial Killers & Murderers Who Were Never Caught, London's Deadliest & Often Forgotten Disasters, Are More Serial KIllers Born During a Full Moon, Killer's Birthdays / Star Signs, Serial Killers Who Were On TV, Celebrities Who Have Killed, London's Railway of Death, Serial Killers as Kids and the World's Weirdest Death Rituals

Michael J Buchanan-Dunne is a writer, crime historian and tour-guide who runs Murder Mile Walks, a guided tour of Soho’s most notorious murder cases, hailed as “one of the top ten quirky & unusual things to do in London” and featuring 12 murderers, including 3 serial killers, across 15 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.

If you love true-crime podcasts, subscribe to the Murder Mile true-crime podcast on iTunes, Podcast Addict, Podbean, Pocketcast, Stitcher, Acast, Tune-In, Otto Radio or Libsyn

"How tall are the world's most infamous serial killers and murderers?" is a question often asked by wierdos like myself obsessed with pointless facts to clog up our brains. As along side famous dictators and despots, there is a belief that being off an abnormal height, causes those who are predisposed to being a serial killer or murderer to feel isolated, different and an outcast from society... but does it? Surely the heights of serial killers, murderers, despots and dictators are as varied as anyone else in the world? That said, even if it is, it's still interesting to see what height infamous serial killers actually were. 

What follows is a list (updated as and when) of infamous serial killers and murderers, arranged tallest to shortest, in feet/inches and metres/cms, as taken from their medical records, Police arrest reports, witness statements or measurements taken from their execution. 

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Infamous serial killers and murderers by height. ​For more information on each person, click the red link to the right for a full biography, or check out my other blogs listed below. .

• Edmund Kempner – 6 foot 9 inches (2.06 m) - aka "The Co-Ed Butcher"
• Stephen Port - 6 foot 3 inches (1.92m) - aka "The Grindr Killer"
• Joel Rifkin – 6 foot 2 inches (1.88m) - aka "Joel the Ripper"
• David Ray Parker - 6 foot 2 inches (1.87m) - aka "The Toybox Killer"
• Robert Black – 6 foot 2 inches (1.87m) - read his biog​
• Paul Barnardo -  6 foot and 1.5 inches (1.87m) - "The Schoolgirl Killer"
• Dennis Nilsen – 6 foot 1 inches (1.85m) - "The Kindly Killer"
• Levi Bellfield – 6 foot 1 inches (1.85m) - "The Bus Stop Killer"
• John Allen Muhammad - 6 foot 1 inches (1.85m) - "Washington Sniper"
• Dr Thomas Neill Cream – 6 foot 1 inches (1.85m) - "The Lambeth Poisoner"
• Randall Woodfield - 6 foot 1 inches (184m) - "The I-5 Killer"
• Richard Ramirez – 6ft 0.75 inches (1.84m) - "The Night Stalker"
• Jeffrey Dahmer – 6 foot 0.5 inches (1.84m) - "Milwaukee Cannibal"
• Ian Brady – 6 foot 0 inches (1.83m) - "Moors Murderer"
• Larry Eyler - 6 foot 0 inches (1.63m) - "The Highway Killer"
• Glen Edward Rogers- 6 foot 0 inches (1.83m)- "The Cross Country Killer"
• Arthur Shawcross - 6 foot 0 inches (1.83m) - "The Genesee River Killer"
• Stephen Griffiths - 6 foot 0 inches (1.83m) - "The Crossbow Cannibal"
• Kenneth Bianchi - 5 foot 11.5 inches (1.82m) - "Hillside Strangler"
• Colin Ireland – 5 foot 11 inches (1.80m) - "The Gay Slayer"
• Dennis Rader– 5 foot 11 inches (1.80m) - "The BTK Killer"
• Dean Corll - 5 foot 11 inches (1.80m) - "The Candy Man"
• John Staffen - 5 foot 11 inches (1.80m) - read his biog
• Ted Bundy – 5 foot 10 inches (1.78 m) - read his biog 
• Gary Ridgway - 5 foot 10 inches (1.78m) - "The Green River Killer"
• John Wayne Gacy – 5 foot 10 inches (1.78m) - "The Killer Clown"
• Peter Tobin – 5 foot 10 inches (1.77m) - possibly "Bible John"
• Henry Lee Lucas - 5 foot 9 1/2 inches (1.76m) - "The Highway Stalker"
• Ted Kaczynski – 5 foot 9 inches (1.75m) - "Unabomber"
• Anthony Hardy – 5 foot 9 inches (1.75m) - "Camden Ripper"
• Harold Shipman –5 foot 9 inches (1.75m) - "Doctor Death"
• John George Haigh – 5 foot 9 inches (1.75m) - "Acid Bath Murderer"
• Herbert Mullin - 5 foot 9 inches (1.75m) - read his biog
• Richard Loeb - 5 foot 9 inches  (1.75m) - "Leopold & Loeb"
• David Berkowitz – 5 foot 8 inches (1.72m) - "Son of Sam"
• Peter Sutcliffe – 5 foot 8 inches (1.72m) - "Yorkshire Ripper"
• Fred West – 5 foot 7.5 inches (1.71m) - "Fred & Rose West"
• Ed Gein – 5 foot 7 inches (1.70m) - "The Mad Butcher"
• George Joseph Smith - 5 foot 7 inches (1.70m) - "Brides in the Bath"
• Dr H H Holmes - 5 foot 7 inches (1.70m) - "World's Fair Killer"
• Trevor Hardy - 5 foot 7 inches (1.7m) - "The Beast of Manchester"
• Judy Buenoano - 5 foot 7 inches (1.7m) - "The Black Widow"
• Martha Beck - 5 foot 6 inches - "The Lonely Hearts Killer"
• Nathan Leopold Jnr - 5 foot 6 inches (1.68m) - "Leopold & Loeb"
• Rosemary West – 5 foot 6 inches (1.67m) - "Fred & Rose West"
• Myra Hindley – 5 foot 5 inches (1.65m) - "Moors Murderer"
• Albert Fish – 5 foot 5 inches (1.65m) - "Werewolf of Wysteria"
• Peter Kurten – 5 foot 5 inches (1.65m) - "Vampire of Dusseldorf"
• Henri Desire Landru – 5 foot 4.5 inches (1.64m) - "The Ladykiller"
• David Copeland - 5 foot 4 inches (1.63m) - "London Nail Bomber"
• Aileen Wuornos – 5 foot 4 inches (1.63m) - read her biog
• Karla Homolka - 5 foot 4 inches (1.63m) - "Ken & Barbie Murders"
• Beverley Allitt – 5 foot 4 inches (1.63m) - "Angel of Death"
• Peter Manuel – 5 foot 4 inches (1.62m) - "Beast of Birkenshaw"
• John Reginald Christie – 5 foot 4 inches (1.62m) - 10 Rillington Place
• Donald Henry Gaskins - 5 foot 4 inches (1.61m) - "Pee Wee"
• Dr H H Crippen – 5 foot 3 inches (1.60m) - read his biog
• Velma Barfield – 5 foot 3 inches (1.60m) - read her biog
  
• Dorothea Puente - 5 foot 2 inches (1.57m) - "Death House Landlady"
• John Birnie - 5 foot 2 inches (1.56m) - read his biog
  
• Charles Manson – 5 foot 2 inches (1.57m) - "Helterskelter" 
  
• Kristen Gilbert- 5 foot 0 inches (1.50m)- "The Angel of Death"
  

Yup, as expected, some are tall, some are short, but most are of average height for their sex. 

So, how do some of the world's most dangerous and demented serial killers compare to the world's most powerful people... in terms of height? As before, what follows is some of the world's most infamous world leaders, despots and dictators, arranged tallest to shortest. 

• Idi Amin – 6 foot 4 inches (1.93m)
• Donald Trump – 6 foot 3 inches (1.91m)
• Barack Obama – 6 foot 2 inches (1.85m)
• Saddam Hussein –6 foot 2 inches (1.88m)
• Muammar Gaddafi – 6 foot 0 inches (1.83m)
• George W Bush – 5 foot 11 inches (1.82m)
• Pol Pot – 5 foot 9 inches (1.75m)
• Kim-Jong Un – 5 foot 9 inches (1.75m)
• Adolf Hitler – 5ft 8 inches (1.73m)
• Vladimir Putin – 5 foot 7 inches (1.7m)
• Benito Mussolini – 5 foot 6 inches (1.69m)
• Napoleon Bonepart – 5 foot 6 inches (1.68m)
• Josef Stalin – 5 foot 5 inches (1.65m)
• Silvio Berlusconi – 5 foot 5 inches (1.65m)
• Kim-Jong Il – 5 foot 4 inches (1.6m)

If you're interested in the heights of world leaders of past and present, look at this fascinating website on World Leader Heights by The Guardian. Other famous criminals by height include: 

• Al Capone – 1.79 metres / 5ft 10.5 inches
• John Wilkes Booth – 1. 73 metres / 5ft 8 inches
• Phil Spector – 1. 65 metres / 5 feet 5 inches
• Meyer Lanskey (gangster) – 1.52 metres / 4ft 11.5 inches
• Griselda Bianco (drug lord) - 1.52 metres / 4ft 11.5 inches
• Pablo Escobar (drug lord) – 1.66 metres / 5 foot 5 inches

If you "enjoyed" this blog post, why not take a peek at; Britain's Most Famous Murderers - Dead or Alive? Serial Killer IQ's, London's Deadliest & Often Forgotten Disasters, Are More Serial KIllers Born During a Full Moon, Killer's Birthdays / Star Signs, Serial Killers Who Were On TV, Celebrities Who Have Killed, London's Railway of Death, Serial Killers as Kids and the World's Weirdest Death Rituals. 

Michael J Buchanan-Dunne is a writer, crime historian and tour-guide who runs Murder Mile Walks, a guided tour of Soho’s most notorious murder cases, hailed as “one of the top ten quirky & unusual things to do in London” and featuring 12 murderers, including 3 serial killers, across 15 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.

If you love true-crime podcasts, check out the Murder Mile true-crime podcast on iTunes, Soundcloud, Podbean, Pocketcast, Stitcher, Acast, Tune-In, Otto Radio or Libsyn

Myra Hindley - DEAD – Infamous as one of the Moor’s Murderers who, with her partner Ian Brady, lured five children to their deaths, burying four on Saddleworth Moor. Following her conviction and sentenced to 25 years (later increased to 30 years), Hindley successfully appealed to have her Category A status changed to B, which enabled Holloway’s prison governor Dorothy Wing to take her on walks around Hampstead Heath. 

Myra Hindley died on 15th November 2002 aged 60 of bronchial pneumonia. So vehement was the anger at Hindley that even 35 years after the murders, twenty undertakers refused to handle her corpse for cremation. In February 2003, Patricia Cairns – Hindley’s ex-partner – scattered her ashes in Stalybridge County Park, less than ten miles from Saddleworth Moor. Want to know more? Do serial killers make great pet lovers? Click the red link to find out. 

​Ian Brady – DEAD – Along with fellow Moor’s Murderer Myra Hindley, he lured five children to their deaths and even today heartlessly refuses to tell his victim’s grieving families where their children are buried. Brady served the first 19 years of his life sentence in various Category A prisons – Wakefield, Full Sutton, Frankland and Strangeway (it’s almost like nobody wanted him) – before he was diagnosed as a psychopath in November 1985 and transferred to the high-security Ashworth Psychiatric Hospital in Sefton, stating he never wanted to be released.

On 15th May 2017, Brady died of lung cancer at Ashworth Prison aged 60. He never apologised for his crimes, instead he stated that he “expresses his remorse through actions”, but after 20 years of transcribing classical texts into braille, his translating machine was confiscated for fear that he may ”use it as a weapon”. Want to know more? Ever wondered what a serial killers favourite drink is? Click the red link to find out. 

​Peter Sutcliffe - ALIVE – Dubbed the "Yorkshire Ripper"; Sutcliffe murdered 13 women and attacked 7 others between 1975-80. Although his defence pleaded diminished responsibility owing to a diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia, this was rejected by the jury, and although he has served much of his whole life tariff (twenty concurrent sentences with no chance of parole) in Broadmoor’s psychiatric prison, Sutcliffe was moved to HMP Frankland in Durham on 24th August 2016, having been deemed mentally fit to return to prison. Ever wondered what most serial killer's musical tastes are? Click to find out. 

​Fred West - DEAD – Along with his wife Rose West, Fred raped, tortured, murdered, dismembered and buried at least twelve young women (including Fred’s own step-daughter) in the cellar or garden of their Cromwell Street house in Gloucester. On 1st January 1995 in his cell in Winson Green Prison, Fred West committed suicide by asphyxiation by fashioning a makeshift rope using bedsheets which he attached to the bars on his window and sunk to his knees. He killed himself just a few weeks before his trial. Want to know more? Are serial killers more likely to have a specific star sign? Click to find out. 

​Rose West - ALIVE – On 22nd November 1995, Rosemary West was found guilty by a unanimous jury of 10 murders and was sentenced to life imprisonment at HMP Low Newton (a closed prison for females, part of HMP Frankland) with a recommendation that she never be released. In July 1997, Home Secretary Jack Straw had this increased to a whole life tariff meaning she will never be released. Rose West has never appealed this, whilst also maintaining her innocence of all crimes. Want to know more? Are more serial killers born under a full moon?

Beverley Allitt – ALIVE – Dubbed “The Angel of Death”, Allitt murdered four children with lethal doses of insulin and "air-bubbles in their blood" between February & April 1991, as she worked as a state registered nurse at the Grantham & Kesteven Hospital (Lincolnshire). She's serving thirteen life sentences at Rampton Secure Hospital (Nottinghamshire), with the judge - Mr Justice Latham – commenting that it is unlikely she will ever be considered safe enough to be released. Want to know if serial killer's share common first names?

​Levi Bellfield - ALIVE – Dubbed the Bus Stop Stalker, but more infamously known for the 2002 murder of Amanda “Milly” Dowler, Levi Bellfield has since been charged with the fatal hammer attacks of Marsha McDonnell and Amelie Delagrange and the attempted murder of Kate Sheedy, as well as being investigated for a string of abductions, rapes and murders across West London in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s. Bellfield is currently serving a life sentence with the recommendation that he is never released at HMP Frankland (Durham) and has since converted to Islam. Of course, it's not just strangers who kill, there's been many celebrities who have murdered too. 

​Peter Bryan - ALIVE – In 1993 Peter Bryan fatally attacked a stranger with a hammer for which he was institutionalised, until February 2004 when he walked out of a psychiatric unit in Newham and paid a little visit to his friend Brian Cherry. Alerted to screams by the neighbours, when the Police broke down the door, he was cooking Cherry’s brain in a frying pan. Diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic, Peter Bryan was committed to Broadmoor Psychiatric Hospital for treatment, where he battered and strangled a fellow inmate (Richard Loudwell) to death. Bryan – a self-confessed cannibal – has since said, had he not been interrupted, he would have devoured Loudwell’s flesh. Ever wondered what a serial killer's favourite food is? 

​Kenneth Erskine – ALIVE – Dubbed “The Stockwell Strangler”; burglar, drug-addict and homeless drifter Kenneth Erskine was sentenced to life imprisonment with a minimum recommendation of forty years for the murder of seven pensioners (and suspected murder of four others) in Stockwell, South London, many of whom had been strangled, beaten and sodomised. Erskine – who was witnessed masturbating during his trial – has since been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and committed to Broadmoor Psychiatric Hospital, with his convictions for murder reduced to manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility. Interested in serial killer's birthdays?

​Steven Grievesen - ALIVE – Dubbed “The Sunderland Strangler”, Steven Grievesen strangled four teenage boys in Sunderland (Tyne & Wear) between 1990 and 1994. He was sentenced to four terms of life imprisonment with a recommendation that he serve a minimum of 35 years at HMP Full Sutton (Yorkshire) before his release is considered by the Home Secretary. Want to know more? Ever wondered who Britain's deadliest family is? 

​Stephen Griffiths - ALIVE – Dubbed “The Crossbow Cannibal” by himself, as at his own trial, when asked by the judge for his name, this was what he gave (although there’s no evidence he ever ate any parts of his victims). Between June 2009 and April 2010, Stephen Griffiths murdered three local prostitutes – Susan Rushworth, Shelley Armitage and Suzanne Blamires - in Bradford, with the body parts of the final two victims found floating in the River Aire. No remains of Susan Rushworth have never been found. 

Although he was diagnosed as a schizoid psychopath in 1991 and received a two-year sentence for assault on a young girl with a knife, Griffiths was free to roam Bradford and even started a PHD at the University of Bradford in Homicide Studies. He is currently serving a whole life tariff at Wakefield Prison. ​Although, there are many festive customs acorss the world which are weirder. 

Dennis Nilsen – ALIVE – Dubbed “The Kindly Killer” and the "Mullwell Hill Killer", Dennis Nilsen was a north London serial killer who between 1978-83 strangled, drowned, sodomised and dismembered 15 young men and attempted to kill 7-9 others. Convicted of 6 counts of murder and 2 counts of attempted murder, Nilsen was sentence to life imprisonment – a 25 year term, which was later extended to a whole life sentence - at HMP Full Sutton (East Riding, Yorkshire). 

Nilsen was declared sane and never lodged an appeal against his conviction as he fully accepts his punishment. Now aged 71, Nilsen spends his days reading, painting and composing music. In December 1983, Nilsen was briefly transferred to Parkhurst Prison having been attacked with a razor to the face & chest by fellow prisoner Albert Moffatt, requiring 89 stitches. To learn more about London’s most dangerous pubs, and the place where Nilsen’s murderous rampage began, click the link. Or book onto Murder Mile Walks to hear the full story of Dennis Nilsen. 

​Anthony Hardy - ALIVE – On 30th December 2002, a hungry homeless man discovered the dismembered corpses of two women - Bridgette MacClennan and Elizabeth Valad – stuffed into bin-bags outside Anthony Hardy’s flat. When Police investigated, they found the battered body of Camden prostitute – Sally White – in his bed, which Hardy claimed he had no memory of, owing to his severe drink problem and tendency to blackout. Dubbed “The Camden Ripper”, Anthony Hardy is serving a whole life sentence at Broadmoor Psychiatric Prison.
Ever wondered what most serial killers do as a day-job?

​Colin Ireland - DEAD – Dubbed "The Gay Slayer" by tabloid hacks, (supposedly) heterosexual married man Colin Ireland preyed on gay men in the early 1990’s at the infamous Coleherne pub in Earls Court. Here you could pick up men with very specific sexual desires, such as sexually passive men who were into sadomasochism by the distinctive colour of handkerchief they wore, which made finding the perfect victim easier. Ireland – who always carried a murder kit and a full change of clothes with him – would often spend the night in his victim’s flat to avoid suspicion having scrubbed it of any forensic evidence. 

Sentenced to a whole life sentence in HMP Wakefield (West Yorkshire), Ireland died on 21st February 2012 (57 years old) from pulmonary fibrosis, caused by a fractured hip. Ever wondered which London pubs most serial killers frequent?

​Michael Lupo – DEAD – Real name Michele de Marco Lupo, dubbed “The Wolfman” (as his surname means “wolf” in Italian) Lupo – who boasted of having had 4000 lovers – was a serial killer who worked out of Yves Saint Laurent on Brompton Road in Kensington and was sentenced to four life terms plus 14 years at HMP Frankland (Durham) for four seemingly unrelated deaths and two attempted murders. 

In February 1995, Lupo died at HMP Frankland of an AIDS related illness. Lupo confessed that his urge to kill was out of loathing and revenge for sexually promiscuous homosexuals who had infected him with (what in the 1980’s was) a walking death sentence. ​

​Robert Maudsley - ALIVE – In 1978, whilst already serving a life sentence for the brutal (but possibly warranted) murder of a sadistic paedophile and child-rapist in Edmonton, Robert Maudsley went on to kill fellow prisoners – Salney Darwood and Bill Roberts – the latter he stabbed in the head, impaling his brain. 

Dubbed “Hannibal the Cannibal” by useless tabloid hacks, Maudsley supposedly ate Robert’s brain using the knife as a scoop and is serving a whole life sentence in solitary confinement at Wakefield Prison in a 5.5m by 4.5m glass cage, just like fictional serial killer Hannibal Lector. Which is true… unlike the cannibalism which was entirely made-up by the press, but when did that ever stop them?

​Donald Neilson – DEAD – Dubbed “The Black Panther”; burglar Donald Neilson murdered three people whilst robbing sub-post-offices between 1971 and 74 as well as kidnapping an heiress in 1975. Always believing he was smarter than the Police, Neilson briefly alluded them by adapting key aspects of each robbery, firstly by deliberately stealing a radio from each scene (almost like he had a compulsion)… and then he would suddenly stop. 

In 1976, Neilson was sentenced to a whole life tariff (five life sentences with an extra 61 years for kidnapping and blackmail) at HMP Norwich (oddly a category b/c prison), but was transferred to Norwich University Hospital on 17th December 2911 owing to breathing difficulties and died the following morning. ​Want something different? What about London's deadliest disasters? 

Stephen Port - ALIVE – Between 2014 and 2015, bus-garage chef Stephen Port lured four gay men to their deaths in Barking (East London) having met them online via dating app’s and lured them home with the promise of sex. Port drugged his victims with a lethal mix of GHB, amyl nitrate, Viagra, mephedrone (aka “meow meow”) and methamphetamine (“crystal meth”), raped and strangled the men whilst they were unconscious and dumped their bodies in a local cemetery, a faked suicide note nearby. Port was sentenced to a whole life order (with no chance of parole) on 25th November 2016.

His current location has not been announced, but as he has not been declared insane (which would require him to be committed to s secure psychiatric facility such as Broadmoor or Ashworth), murderers will often serve their sentence in a Category A prison, of which the England & Wales currently has nine (HMP Bellmarsh, Frankland, Full Sutton, Long Lartin, Manchester aka Strangeways, Wakefield, Whitemoor and Woodhill, with Bronzefield being the only category a female & young offenders prison). Read more about prison categorisation. 

​Harold Shipman - DEAD – Dubbed “Dr Death”, Harold Shipman – a friendly family GP in the sleepy towns of Hyde and Todmorden - was convicted of the murders of 15 pensioners (mostly elderly female patients who he “euthanized”), although a later inquiry concluded he killed at least 215, and possibly as many as 457 over a 25 year period, making him one of the most prolific serial killers in history. 

Sentenced to life imprisonment with a recommendation that he never be released, Shipman hung himself on the 13th January 2004 (aged 57) in his cell at HMP Wakefield, using bedsheets hanging from the bars on his window as a makeshift noose. It is said that Shipman’s “desire” to bring a peaceful end to many elderly women began when as a young boy he witnessed his mother die after a painful and protracted battle with cancer. Ever wondered what serial killers looked like as children and babies? Horrible, right? You'd be surprised. 

​Steven Wright – ALIVE – Dubbed "The Suffolk Strangler" and the “Ipswich Ripper”; Wright murdered six local prostitutes over six weeks in 2006 and dumped their bodies in ditches, but was arrested owing to keen-eyed sex-workers who had nicknamed him “Mondeo Man” and the “Silver-backed Gorilla” owing to his silvery hair, stocky build and the make of car he drove. His identity was pinpointed further because of his prediliction for wearing women’s clothes and a curly black wig. Wright was sentenced to life imprisonment, with the recommendation that he never be released, from HMP Bellmarsh (Thamesmead). 

​Graham Young - DEAD – Dubbed “The Teacup Poisoner”, chemistry-obsessive Graham Young poisoned three members of his family at their family home in Neasden in 1962, using antimony (a poison which in small doses causes vomiting, diarrhoea and stomach cramps, but with higher and prolonged exposure causes death), killing his step-mother Molly, for which he was transferred to Broadmoor Psychiatric Hospital with a “personality disorder”*. 

But in 1971, having been declared mentally fit, Young was released, and began work at Hadland Laboratories (Bovington, Herts) where he would poison a further 70 people – spiking their tea with antimony – two of whom died. Graham Young died in 1990 at HMP Parkhurst having suffered a heart attack. * subsequently, Young was later diagnosed as a schizophrenic on the autism spectrum.

Peter Tobin - ALIVE – Scottish serial killer and sadist who is serving a whole life sentence at HMP Edinburgh* for the murder of three women between 1991 and 2006. Tobin was diagnosed as a psychopath by Professor David Wilson who also believes that Peter Tobin is the infamous “Bible John” – a Glasgow-based serial killer from the 1960’s who was never caught – hence Tobin’s body count may be a lot higher, although the true number, we shall never know. Learn more about "Bible John" and other serial killers who were never caught.  

* Although England & Wales have nine Category A prisons (HMP Bellmarsh, Frankland, Full Sutton, Long Lartin, Manchester, Wakefield, Whitemoor, Woodhill and Bronzefield), Scotland & Northern Ireland have their own prisons and classifications. Read more about prison categorisation. 

​Robert Black - DEAD – Scottish serial killer Robert Black attacked four young girls aged 5 to 11 between 1981 and 1986 as he worked as a lorry-driver. Sentenced to life imprisonment at HMP Maghaberry (Northern Ireland) with a minimum of 35 years, Black has been linked to 13 other child murders and abductions across the UK, Ireland and Europe, but died of a heart attack on 12th January 2016, as he was about to be charged with the murder of a fifth young girl. The true scale of his heinous crimes may never be known. 

​John Cooper - ALIVE – Dubbed "The Bullseye Killer", burglar John Cooper got his nickname having chillingly appeared on ITV gameshow Bullseye, the same year he would tie-up, rob and brutally murderer holidaymakers – Peter & Gwenda Dixon – just one of two double murders he committed in the Pembrokeshire area. Cooper is currently serving a whole life tariff in HMP Wakefield, having also raped and sexually assaulted a 15 and a 16 year old girl. See The Bullseye's Killers TV appearance. 

​Patrick MacKay – ALIVE – Violent alcoholic, drug-abuser and psychotic, Patrick MacKay was charged in 1975 for the murder of 5 people (including priest Father Crean who he hacked to death with an axe and a homeless tramp he drowned in the Thames), convicted of 3 owing to a lack of evidence but later confessed to the murder of 11 people between 1974 & 75. MacKay was sentenced to a whole life tariff at the psychiatric prison HMP Wayland in Norfolk, where he has been for the last 40 years, and it is unlikely he will ever be released. 

If you "enjoyed" this blog post, why not take a peek at; Serial Killers & Murderers Who Were Never Caught, London's Deadliest & Often Forgotten Disasters, Are More Serial KIllers Born During a Full Moon, Killer's Birthdays / Star Signs, Serial Killers Who Were On TV, Celebrities Who Have Killed, London's Railway of Death, Serial Killers as Kids and the World's Weirdest Death Rituals

Thankfully, with the rapid advances in DNA, finger-printing, psychological profiling and forensic science, along with living in a world awash with CCTV, security devices and social media covering every inch of the globe (with practically every person clutching a lightweight camera which beams images around the world in seconds), many modern-day mass-murderers are all too quickly caught. Hence why - in western society at least -  we've had so few serial killers in recent years. 

But that doesn't mean there aren't still serial killers out there? Not just new ones, but many who have never been caught. What follows is a non-comprehensive list of the world's most infamous serial killers and mass-murders... who were never caught. Sleep well.

The Zodiac Killer: Between 20th December 1968 and 11th October 1969, in California and possibly Nevada, The Zodiac Killer stalked, shot and stabbed 4 men and 3 women, all aged 16-29, with 2 surviving their horrifying injuries, although his death toll may have been as many as 28 (he claimed to have killed 37). The Zodiac Killer got his nickname from the symbol he used on a series of cryptograms he sent to the press, giving clues to his identity. Read more here. 

Stone Man: In the last half of 1989, a serial killer known as Stone Man brutally bashed in the skulls of at least 13 homeless people in Calcutta and 12 in Bombay, using a single rock which weighed as much as 30kg, whilst his victims slept. Even today, it is unknown whether this was the work of one person, a few , a group, or a series of copy-cat killings. 

The Northern Line Serial Kiiler - In the late 1970's/early 1980's, a serial killer stalked London Underground's Northern lines (Kensington, Clapham Common, Oval, Stockwell and Tottenham Court Road, to name but a few) where he killed 18+ people by pushing them in front of a tube train. This story went unreported by the press as nobody wanted a panic on their hands. That said, there is a lot of dispute over who Kelly actually killed. 

Although the killer himself - Kieran Kelly, a violent alcoholic - was arrested for many other crimes, including murdering a homeless beggar in Soho by stabbing him with a broken bottle in his anus, Kieran Kelly was never tried or arrested for the murder of 18 people on the tube. Read more. 

Charlie Chop-Off: Between 9th March 1972 and 7th August 1973, a sadist affectionately known as "Charlie Chop-Off" - because of his fondness for mutilating the penis of his victims - brutally stabbed and severed the penises of either 5 or 7 young black children in the Manhattan area of New York. Although Erno Solo (a serial child abductor) confessed to being "Charlie Chop-Off", he was deemed unfit to stand trail, and was sent back to the mental asylum. Read more. 

The Axeman of New Orleans: Between 22nd May 1918 to 27th October 1919, a jazz-loving serial killer known as The Axeman terrorised the New Orleans, killing 6-7 people and injuring 6-7 others, by breaking into their homes and attacking them with an axe. Oddly, on 19th March 1919, The Axeman sent a letter to the press stating that he wouldn't kill anyone who was playing jazz music. That night, the city echoed to the all-night buzz of sultry sax solos, and (true to his word) nobody died. Read more: 

The Servant Girl Annihilator: Between 30th December 1884 and 24th December 1885, in Austin (Texas, USA), 7 women and 1 man were murderered, with another 6 women and 2 men seriously injured. Many were dragged from their beds, knocked unconscious, severely mutilated and then deliberately posed, with some having had a sharp object thrust into their ears. This became the grisly calling-card of The Ssrvant Girl Annihilator, who it has been speculated was James Maybrick, a possible suspect in the Jack the Ripper case three years later. Read more. 

The West Mesa Murders: On 2nd February 2009, a dog-walker in West Mesa (Albuquerque, New Mexico) found a human bone, this discovery lead to the mutilated remains of 11 female prostitutes, aged between 15 & 32, of mostly Hispanic origin, all of whom had disappeared between 2001 to 2005. Although there have been many suspects, no-one has been arrested for these murders, so until further evidence emerges the case remains open. Read more. 

Jack the Stripper: Between 2nd February 1964 to 16th February 1965, 6 female prostitutes (and possibly 2 others) were murdered, stripped and dumped around West London, most notably near Hammersmith Bridge and floating in the River Thames, hence they are often referred to as the "Hammersmith Nudes", which was also the inspiration for Alfred Hitchock's penultimate film - Frenzy. Oddly, on many of the bodies, unusual flecks of paint were found, but were never attributed to a specific location or culprit. Read more. 

​* Statistically, there are on average 300+ murders in the United Kingdom each year, but it is 42 times more likely that, than the average person - if you work in the sex-trade - that you will be murdered. 

Bible John: Between 22nd February 1968 and 31st October 1969, three women were strangled and raped having met a man called "John" at the Barrowland Ballroom (Glasgow); 25 year old nurse Patricia Docker, 32 year old mother of three Jemima McDonald and 29 year old Helen Puttock. Helen's sister Jean described "John" as "well-dressed, tall, slim, with reddish hair, who was polite, well-spoken" and quoted from the Bible on the taxi ride home, hence his nickname of "Bible John". Unusually, these killings have uncanny similarities to those of the Scottish serial killer Peter Tobin who lived in Glasgow at the time, but this has never been proven. Read more. 

The Doodler: Between 24th January 1974 to 4th June 1975, five gay men - Gerald Earl Cavanaugh, Joseph Steven, Klaus Christmann, Frederick Elmer Capin and Harald Gullberg - were stabbed to death, in remote locations around San Fransisco Bay, having met their killer first in a bar or nightclub, for the purposes of sex. 

The Doodler's unusual nickname came about owing to his habit of sketching his victim... prior to their deaths. And although The Doodler is believed to have been responsible for 14 deaths and 3 attempted murders, many witnesses refused to come forward to the Police as "being gay" was still considered a crime in 1970's America. Read more. ​

Obviously this is just a few of the serial-killers who were never caught, there has also been unsolved serial killings in Ann Arbor, Atlanta, Bowraville, Claremont, Cleveland, Colonial Parkway, Connecticut River Valley, Daytona Beach, Edgecombe County, Frankford, Gypsy Hill, Honolulu, Hwaseong, New Bedford, Lisbon, Long Island, Udine, Novosibirsk, Oakland County, Ohio, Santa Rosa, The Monster of Florence and the Texarkana Moonlight Murders. As well as Alphabet Murders, Atlanta Ripper, B1 Butcher, Beer Man, February 9th Killer, the Flat-Tire murders, the Freeway Phantom, Jeff Davis 8, I-70 Killer, Redhead murder, Smiley Face and the Night Stalker, to name but a few. 

And last, there is - of course - Jack the Ripper: Supposedly, "London's most notorious serial killer" even though no-one is certain whether he killed 3 women, or 5, 7, 9, 11... or 22, if at all, with no conclusive evidence and 106 current suspects (many of which are preposterous). What it is though is a very clever piece of media manipulation using a wildly salacious story, spawned during the birth of tabloid news to lure in a new less-educated working-class customer... which the tabloids still do today. And yet as a piece of storytelling, you have to applaud its simplicity, as we're still talking about it over 140 years later. If you want to know the truth about Jack the Ripper? Book onto Murder Mile Walk. 

If you "enjoyed" this blog post, why not take a peek at; London's Deadliest & Often Forgotten Disasters, Are More Serial KIllers Born During a Full Moon, Killer's Birthdays / Star Signs, Serial Killers Who Were On TV, Celebrities Who Have Killed, London's Railway of Death, Serial Killers as Kids and the World's Weirdest Death Rituals

Michael J Buchanan-Dunne is a writer, crime historian and tour-guide who runs Murder Mile Walks, a guided tour of Soho’s most notorious murder cases, hailed as “one of the top ten quirky & unusual things to do in London” and featuring 12 murderers, including 3 serial killers, across 15 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.

If you love true-crime podcasts, subscribe to the Murder Mile true-crime podcast on iTunes, Podcast Addict, Podbean, Pocketcast, Stitcher, Acast, Tune-In, Otto Radio or Libsyn

In the final part of Murder Mile's three part blog on whether a star-sign, birthday or lunar cycle could help predict if anyone is more/less predisposed to being a serial killer, we present a curious look at whether serial killers are more likely to be born... during a full-moon? Just as (we've seen in my previous blogs) serial killers are three times more likely to be a Gemini than most other star signs and twice as likely to be born on a Monday than any other day. 

Which is not to say that the "position of the moon" is the overall factor in determining whether someone could become a serial killer - of course not, that's just stupid - but what I'm asking is, could these small, yet seemingly insignificant details be a contributing factor worth considering?

Consider this: the Moon is the fulcrum upon which the Earth generates and regulates its gravity, the Moon is vital for regulating time, days, moods, sleep, seasons and it is scientifically proven that more people are born and die during the ebb-tide (3am & 3pm, when the moon's gravitational pull is at its weakest). So could the position of the Moon have a significant affect on a (future) serial killer during one of the most traumatic experiences of their life - their own birth? 

As before, the following is taken from a sample of 38 of the world's most infamous serial killers (including Dennis Nilsen, Ted Bundy, Aileen Wuornos, Hindley & Brady and Dr Shipman), as used in my previous blog on the most popular names for serial killers, with a few notable exceptions where I was unable to track their exact date of birth (listed in the footnotes**). 
​
Are more serial killers born during a full moon? Or maybe, more murderers were born during a new moon, first quarter, last quarter or maybe it makes no difference what-so-ever? Let's find out. 

What Was The Lunar Cycle On The Day A Serial Killer Was Born?

What follows is a list of 38 infamous UK/USA serial killers and murderers, their birthdays and what phase the moon was in on the day they were born. You can work out what your birth lunar cycle was by clicking here and changing the year (../1976) at the end of the web address. The lunar cycle has distinct four phases: Full Moon, New (or no) Moon, First Quarter and Third Quarter (which are often referred to as a crescent moon). Simply for speed and to save confusion, I've eliminated waxing & waning crescents, although this may appear in later blogs. 

* denotes a birth on the exact day of that specific Moon phase
** denotes a birth exactly in the middle two Moon phases
No asterisk denotes being born during any other day 
​

• Dennis Nilsen, 23rd November 1945 – 1st Quarter / Full Moon **
• John Wayne Gacy, 17th March 1942 – New Moon *
• Fred West, 29th September 1941 – 1st Quarter
• Peter Sutcliffe, 2nd June 1946 – New Moon
• Ted Bundy, 24th November 1946 – New Moon
• Richard Ramirez, 29th February 1960 – New Moon
• Anthony Hardy, 31st May 1951 – New Moon / 1st Quarter **
• Colin Ireland, 16th March 1954 – Full Moon
• Orville Lynn Majors, 24th April 1961 – 1st Quarter / Full Moon **
• David Berkowitz, 1st June 1953 – Full Moon / 3rd Quarter **
• Derrick Bird, 8th October 1957 – Full Moon *
• Michael Ryan, 18th May 1960 – 3rd Quarter
• Ed Gein, 27th August 1906 – 1st Quarter *
• Ian Brady, 2nd January 1938 – New Moon
• Harold Shipman, 14th January 1946 – 1st Quarter / Full Moon **
• Jeffrey Dahmer, 21st May 1960 - 3rd Quarter / New Moon **
• Joel Rifkin, 20th January 1959 – 1st Quarter / Full Moon **
• John George Haigh, 24th July 1909 – 1st Quarter
• Albert DeSalvo, 3rd September 1931 – 3rd Quarter
• Edmund Kempner, 18th December 1948 – Full Moon
• Myra Hindley, 23rd July 1942 – 1st Quarter
• Beverly Allitt, 4th October 1968 – Full Moon
• Rose West, 29th November 1953 – 3rd Quarter
• Aileen Wuornos, 29th February 1956 – Full Moon
• Cynthia Coffman, 19th January 1962 – Full Moon
• Dorothea Puente, 9th January 1929 – New Moon
• Faye Copeland, 4th August 1921 – New Moon
• Janie Lou Gibbs, 25th December 1932 – New Moon
• Judy Buenoano, 4th April 1943 – New Moon *
• Kimberly Clark-Saenz, 11th November 1973 – Full Moon
• Kristen Gilbert, 13th November 1967 – 1st Quarter / Full Moon **
• Velma Barfield, 29th October 1932 – New Moon * 

And to summarise this: 

• Five births on the exact day of a Moon phase (*), eight born precisely between two Moon phases (**) and eighteen born on all other days, which - even statistically, based on the number of days in a week - is more likely, so no surprises there.
• Of those five born on the exact day of a Moon phase; three were born under a New Moon, only one under a Full Moon, one under a 1st Quarter and none under a 3rd Quarter. 
• Of those born exactly between two Moon phases (**); five were born under a Full Moon, five under a 1st Quarter, two under a New Moon and two under a 3rd Quarter. 

Which - as admitted above - could simply be a statistical anomaly, given such a small sample I'm working with, and yet, if we look at which phases they were born on or near: 

• Thirteen born on/near a Full Moon
• Twelve born on/near a New Moon
• Ten born on/near a 1st Quarter
• Five born on/near a 3rd Quarter

That's almost three times as many serial killers and murderers born under a Full/New Moon than under a 3rd Quarter (crescent) moon. So, could there be a correlation between the weaker gravity of a crescent moon than the strength of a total moon?

Does this mean that those born on/near a Full/New Moon are three times more likely to be a serial killer of mass murderer? Probably not. But - as before - let's delve in a little deeper into the personality traits of those born under specific moon phases to see whether the moon phase could affect your personality, as kindly purloined from the lunar natal site Cafe Astrology. 

FULL MOON: An idealist who is always searching for belief system they can relate to, has high value of family life, they are thoughtful, emotional and caring yet struggles to fit in, because of thier need for perfection and completion, so often gets bogged down by their desires. Murderers born under a full moon include; Dennis Nilsen, David Berkowitz, Dr Harold Shipman, Joel Rifkin and Beverly Allitt. 

NEW MOON: Intuitive and instinctive, who navigate life without a map or a plan, and yet seem to reach their destination with time to spare, but are often too self-involved to see the dangers and are unwilling to learn when confronted by unsavoury facts or unpleasant truths. Murderers born under a New Moon include: John Wayne Gacy, Peter Sutcluffe, Ted Bundy, Ian Brady, Jeffrey Dahmer and Velma Barfield. 

1ST QUARTER: Trail blazers, able to rise to the occasion, make split second decisions and tear down old structures, but often they get bored too easily and create havoc for the sake of excitement, and yet sometimes this conflict helps balance the status quo. ​Murderers born under a 1st Quarter include: Fred West, Ed Gein, Myra Hindley and John George Haigh "The Acid Bath Murderer". 

3RD QUARTER: Appearing to be in a world of their own and yet they are great at re-evaluating life, thoughts and actions. Although regarded by others as uncooperative and rebellious, they are often very surprising, but easily get disillusioned with the shackles of life. ​Murderers born under a 3rd Quarter include: Albert DeSalvo, Rose West and Jeffrey Dahmer. 

So, are more serial killers and murderers born under a Full Moon? Yes. But almost as many as were born under a New Moon? So what does this mean? Could there a correlation between the strength of the moon during a traumatic event (with our births being just one of many events) which could contribute to the creation of a serial killer? Who knows. 

But this information is not to be taken in isolation - as stated at the start - this is just a small exploratory study to see if the lunar phase could be a contributing factor in the early development of a serial killer, just as their names, jobs, music, foods and favourite drinks could also be? 

​If you "enjoyed" this blog post, take a peek at other intreguing topics such as; Killer Couples Part 1 & Part 2, Life, Death & Whole Life Sentences, Famous British Serial Killers - Where Are They Now? Serial Killers & Murderers Who Were Never Caught, London's Deadliest & Often Forgotten Disasters, KIllers Born During a Full Moon, Killer's Birthdays / Star Signs, Serial Killers Who Were On TV, Celebrities Who Have Killed, London's Railway of Death, Serial Killers as Kids and the World's Weirdest Death Rituals

Michael J Buchanan-Dunne is a writer, crime historian and tour-guide who runs Murder Mile Walks, a guided tour of Soho’s most notorious murder cases, hailed as “one of the top ten quirky & unusual things to do in London” and featuring 12 murderers, including 3 serial killers, across 15 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.