Murder Mile True-Crime Podcast #34 - Brian Alexander Robinson and the D'Arblay Street Death11/7/2018 
Nominated BEST TRUE-CRIME PODCAST at British Podcast Awards 2018. Subscribe via iTunes, Podcast Addict, Podbean, Stitcher, Tune-In, Otto Radio, Spotify or Acast.
EPISODE THIRTY-FOUR
Episode Thirty-Four: Brian Alexander Robinson, a 19 year old part-time DJ who murdered a man he had never met before, for no financial gain nor personal malice. And yet, although he was found guilty, Brian should never have been tried for murder.
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 here - "Podcast Transcripts"
THE LOCATIONS
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
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
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Nominated BEST TRUE-CRIME PODCAST at British Podcast Awards 2018. Subscribe via iTunes, Podcast Addict, Podbean, Stitcher, Tune-In, Otto Radio, Spotify or Acast.
EPISODE THIRTY-THREE
Episode Thirty-Three: At the Lyon's Corner House Tearoom on Oxford Street, on the 20th April 1945, Jacques Adrian Tratsart decided to shoot to death his father, sister, brother and himself, but what drove this hardworking, well educated man to believe he was doing the right thing?
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 PLAY button on the embedded media player below. For transcripts of each episode? Click "Podcast Transcripts".
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
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 wal
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
Gordon Frederick Cummins (The Blackout Ripper), reproduced with permission of National Archives
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.
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.
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
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?
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
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.
 Do you watch Sherlock? Remember the scene in 'A Study in Pink' when Sherlock and Watson are seated opposite each other in a Soho tapas bar, having texted the phone of murder victim - Jennifer Wilson - knowing her killer still has it on him. It was filmed here, at 46 Broadwick Street, Soho, at the window-side table of a lovely little restaurant called Tapas Brindisa. Try it! The food's lovely. But what neither the cast or crew would have known is that just two floors above then, in the second floor flat of 46 Broadwick Street, was a real-life murder, which even today - now almost seventy years on - it remains unsolved.  46 Broadwick Street Ten years after the Soho Strangler - a sadistic maniac who would terrorise West London's notorious red-light district, strangling at least four prostitutes ("Dutch Leah", "French Marie", "French Fifi" and Marie Jeanette Cotton), and whose identity has never been uncovered - three more prostitutes would be murdered. As before, all were Soho prostitutes, all were female, and all lived just streets from each other; they were “Russian Dora” on Long Acre, “Black Rita” on Rupert Street, Margaret Cooke on Carnaby Street and “Ginger Rae” on Broadwick Street. None of their murders have ever been solved. On 26th September 1948, 41 year old Rachel Fennick (alias “Ginger Rae”), a prostitute since the mid 1920’s with eighty-seven convictions for soliciting, theft and brothel keeping, was found murdered in her flat, on the second floor of number 46 Broadwick Street. But unlike those before her, she hadn’t been strangled, mutilated or bludgeoned; instead she had been stabbed, once, in the stomach. Police knew this wasn’t the work of a sadistic killer. No, this was a contract killing. “Ginger Rae” died instantly, having been stabbed with a “Mediterranean” style knife, either a Sphairai or Janbiya. A short-handled dagger with a curved heavy blade, designed to cut through muscle and bone, but when stabbed, can be twisted upwards, slitting the internal organs (such as the intestines, lungs, liver or heart) in one swift movement, making it a much feared weapon. Suspicion rightfully fell on her new pimps, the Messina Brothers; Salvatore, Carmelo, Alfredo, Attilio and Eugene, who were Italian born but Maltese raised, and who from the 1930’s to the 1950’s dominated London’s criminal underworld. They ran over thirty brothels in Soho, Mayfair & Fitzrovia, and bribed the Police with such efficiency that they ran unchecked in the city. Attilio Messina reportedly stated to the press: "We Messina's are more powerful than the British Government. We do as we like." So were they ever arrested for the murder of (one of their prostitutes) "Ginger Rae"? No. Of course they weren't. So why was Ginger Rae killed? Well that we’ll never know. But one thing we do know is that the Messina Brothers were fans of issuing a big clear message to any of their "working girls" who stepped out of line, either by cutting off their tongue if they'd talked too much, gouging out their eyes if they'd seen something they shouldn't have, or... ...by the single slit to Ginger Rae’s stomach, which was a rather brutal warning to the other girls, about the dangers of “spilling your guts”. Whether that's true, we shall never know. 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 18 murderers, 3 serial killers, across 21 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.
What are you like with time-keeping? Are you always early, often arriving anywhere a full hour before to “get your bearings”, having been there before, blocked out the route, and leaving nothing to chance, just in case? Are you a bastion of being bang-on-time, scraping in by the skin of your teeth as the clock bongs, lamenting the lateness of others with a tut as each whole minute passes? Or, are you a notoriously late ninny, not caring how long others have had to wait, as you regale them, all red-faced and flustered with an over-long tale, as you blame someone else? Whichever you are, maybe it’s time to rethink your relationship with punctuality? As every second of life is precious, and beside, you never know which second… will be your last. What follows is a true story, compiled from archive sources and first-hand accounts, about how a simple momentary hint of hesitation, a split second’s kindness to a stranger, or even an overwhelming desire to jog instead of walk…can be the death of you. During the Blitz of 1940 to 41, as fifty thousand bombs and over one million incendiary devices rained down from the heavily droning heavens, pockmarking the bustling streets of London with hot pockets of fire, that turned the sunlight black, the night skyline red, and killed forty-three thousand civilians in its wake – a bomb dropped on Soho. On the 24th September 1940 at 11:38pm, in Orange Yard (a small cul-de-sac between Manette Street and Goslett’s Yard, just to the side of the site formerly occupied by Foyles, where Boardwalk now stands) killing three people. That bomb was an SC50, a 50kg weapon, containing 25kgs of TNT (high explosive), and was the most common bomb dropped by the Luftwaffe during the Second World War. Of those three victims*, the first died in a merchant’s building in Orange Yard, as a result of a direct hit. No-one is sure what killed the occupant first, whether he was crushed by falling debris as the structure gave way, whether it was the strength of the blast-wave which blew his arms, legs and head from his torso, or whether it was the intensity of the heat which vaporised his body, either way there was very little for his family to identify his body. The second victim died on the first floor of no 16 Manette Street. And although the building was only partially occupied at the time, most of the lodgers got away with nothing more than superficial cuts and shock, as much of the blast-wave from the explosion was dissipated by the strength of the walls. Unfortunately, one lady was not so lucky. A piece of shrapnel from the bomb casing - which can travel as far as a kilometre away and up to seven times the speed of sound - pierced the wall and struck her in the head, killing her instantly as she lay in her bed. Where-as the third victim died on Manette Street (just outside of Foyles), over one hundred feet away. But unlike the others, she had no injuries of any kind; no cuts, no bruises, no grazes, no burns. Her clothes weren’t even ruffled. At first, as she lay there, in the street, passers-by thought that she was asleep, but she wasn’t, she was dead. Rescue teams during the Blitz referred this kind of injury as “Blast Lung”. Effectively, as the SC50 bomb exploded, it sent out a massive pressure wave which did untold damage the merchants building which stood in Orange Yard, killing the occupant (Victim #1) instantly. But, as the weakened blast-wave hit 16 Manette Street, it hadn’t got enough strength left to cause any serious damage, but it was the shrapnel which caused the fatality (Victim #2). Where-as, with Victim #3 being beyond the blast radius, away from the scorching heat and with no razor-sharp shrapnel heading her way like white hot bullets, she still wasn’t safe. With no walls between the blast and the Victim #3 to dissipate the blast, the much weakened blast-wave made its way down the alley of Orange Yard, using the walls like a barrel of a gun, focussing the pressure wave, so that – the by time it hit her – it hadn’t got enough energy to knock her off her feet, but it had just enough left to crush her lungs, squeezing all the life and oxygen out of her body, therefore she keeled over and died of asphyxiation. No-one knows where Victim #3 was going that night. It’s logical to assume she was on her way to the local air-raid shelter. The nearest to Orange Yard is underneath Soho Square; it held between two to three hundred people, and it’s still there today. So, what has her time-keeping got to do with this? How can a “simple momentary hint of hesitation, a split second’s kindness to a stranger, or even an overwhelming desire to jog instead of walk” cause her to “almost miss her own death” in an event as random as a bomb being dropped on a city from ten thousand feet up? According to eye-witness testimony, Victim #3 (who was never formally identified, but it is believed she was “not local”) was last seen walking quickly but carefully across Charing Cross Road towards Manette Street, when she stopped to help a little boy who’d fallen. And then, as the desperate wail of the air-raid sirens grew louder, she quickened her pace - only slightly – but it was enough to ensure she kept her date with destiny. As the bomb was dropped, both she and the little boy were safe, being shielded as they stood behind the walls of 16 Manette Street. But by the time the bomb had exploded, she had already moved on, between the two walls in the alley of Orange Yard – exposed - away from safety and into the path of a killer blast-wave. It is approximately eighteen feet between the walls of Orange Yard, which means, if she was running… the difference between her life and her death… was barely two seconds.
That said, if you’re travelling on the tube? It might be worth reading about my blog about The London Underground’s Very Own Serial Killer or to read more about “blitz spirit”in this article, or Malcolm Gladwell's fabulous book 'David & Goliath - The Art of Battling Giants' * Their names of the victims have been deliberately redacted out of respect. 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 18 murderers, 3 serial killers, across 21 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.
In July 2015, a ninety-one year old British ex-pat living in a care home in Canada was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and given just a few months to live.
Wracked with guilt, plagued by nightmares, and unable to pass away peacefully because of the bloody burdens of his past, he promptly walked into a local Police station and admitted to the murder of Soho prostitute Margaret Cooke, outside the Blue Lagoon club at 50 Carnaby Street, on 10th November 1946. This is the longest gap between a crime and a confession in British criminal history.
What started as a relatively straight-forward murder - a local prostitute / exotic dancer / singer in a suspected argument with a punter is shot to death outside of nightclub - soon descended into urban myth, local legend and journalistic farce, as once again the tabloid press, keen to increase sales with a salacious story, attributed her death with a convenient character who'd proved profitable before, causing panic amongst the peddlers, prostitutes and populous of the seedy streets of Soho.
His name was "The Soho Strangler". From 1946 to 48, four sex workers had been murdered within streets of each other, gripping Soho in fear, as their brutal slaying seemingly echoed not only Jack the Ripper, but also The Blackout Ripper, and The Soho's Strangler's original killing spree just a decade earlier.
But then again, following the sensational murders of a still disputed number of street-walkers in London's East End of the 1888's, to a convenient character concocted by the newly formed tabloid press, dubbed Jack the Ripper, fact was far less important than a good story, some gory details and a sinister name to strike fear into a gullible public and - more importantly - increase sales. Therefore the 1948 so-called Soho Strangler killings were just as inaccurate:
In 1935-36, suspicion for the killings of "French Fifi", "French Marie", Marie Jeanette Cotton and "Dutch Leah" fell onto their pimp, known locally as "Red Max Kassel", even though - hardly reported in the press - he'd actually been murdered on 24th January 1936 by his partner "Roger Vernon" who was subsequently imprisoned just two days later, meaning neither man could have possibly committed all four murders. in 1948, suspicion for these four murders of "Russian Dora", "Black Rita", "Ginger Rae" and Margaret Cook, again fell onto those of their pimps - The Messina Brothers, even though only the symbolic murder of "Ginger Rae" matched their very specific method of enforcement, and by 1948, The Messina's were long gone. The Messina Brothers had dominated Soho vice since the mid 1930’s, but by the late 1940’s, a Police Task Force had been set up to stamp out prostitution, shut down the brothels and convict those who had a strangle-hold on Soho. The Messina's; Alfredo, Attilo, Eugene and Carmelo all fled Britain, they were hunted, captured and imprisoned, with each serving a paltry four to six years before being deported back to Malta. The remaining brother, Salvatore went into hiding and was never found.
And yet, in the case of Margaret Cook? The facts is, that she was last seen, outside of The Blue Lagoon Club at 50 Carnaby Street, arguing with her boyfriend - a local hoodlum - who owned a revolver. He fled the country, no-one knew where, just a few days later.
And yet... the murder, up until a few months ago, remained unsolved. Along with the murders of "French Fifi", "French Marie", Marie Jeanette Cotton, "Dutch Leah", “Ginger Rae”, “Russian Dora”, and “Black Rita”. None of these cases has ever been solved, none of their killers were ever caught, and many of these murders attributed to prostitution being a notoriously dangerous profession*. Over the last ten years in the UK, sixty prostitutes (both male and female, that we know of) have been murdered, meaning that if you are a sex-worker you are forty-two times more likely to be murdered than anyone else, and yet, it is sixty-four percent less likely that your case will lead to a conviction. As of today, the - still unnamed - 91 year old British ex-pat who confessed to the murder of Margaret Cook outside of the Blue Lagoon club in 1946 is currently awaiting extradition for his crime. But given his age, infirmity and declining health, British Authorities are unsure whether he’s fit to stand trial for murder, or whether the case will even go to trial... at all. * on average there are 562 murders in UK per year, that’s less than two per day, but that accounts for one prostitute being murdered every two months.
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 18 murderers, 3 serial killers, across 21 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.
Pubs - the perfect pastime for London's ever expanding populous, whether you're popular, poor, parched or are just a perpetual piss-head.
With over 7000 pubs in our capital alone, you're never short of a hospitable hostelry to wet your whistle in, whether your refreshment needs be a little libation, a "wee swally", a few cheekies or a full on sesh'.
But... have you ever been perched on a stool next to a serial killer? Ever got chatting to a "really nice chap" who - unbeknownst to you - keeps corpses in his cellar? What, not even swigged back a Martini with a murderer, a pint with a poisoner, or cadged a fag outside off a callous killer? No.
Are you sure? Because the chances are... you have. What follows is a hand little list of pubs which the more infamous of London's serial killers and murders hung out in, either for a "swifty", a "nibble", or as a pick-up joint to prey on their next - slightly intoxicated - victims.
Colin Ireland, a sadomasochist who was supposedly "heterosexual", lured five gay men to their deaths (Peter Walker, Christopher Dunn, Peter Bradley III, Andrew Collier and Emanuel Spiteri) in 1993, having made a New Year's resolution to become a serial killer. His victims were chosen, courtesy of the Coleherne customer's colour-coded handkerchiefs (indicating which were sexually passive and into sadomasochism). Michael Lupo, an Italian who travelled extensively, murdered four young men who - like Nilsen and Ireland - preyed upon on his colour-coded victims at The Coleherne. Later sentenced to four life sentences, plus 14 years for two attempted murders, Lupo is believed to have committed murders wherever he travelled including America, Italy and Germany.
This is by no means an exhaustive list. There are certainly other pubs, and other killers, which you are more than welcome to add in the comments section below. And, obviously, I can't include all the serial killers who are currently out there, right now, sitting next to you in a bar, asking you for the time, borrowing your paper, or (supposedly) whistling a merry little tune as they mind their own business - or so you think? Anyway, stay safe. Cheers!
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 18 murderers, 3 serial killers, across 21 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.
This Sunday 8th May 2016, Murder Mile Walks marks the 80th anniversary of the brutal murder of the Soho prostitute Constance May Hinds alias “Dutch Leah” in her second floor lodgings at 66 Old Compton Street. Her death was attributed to Soho’s very own “Jack the Ripper”, a man who was never identified or caught, and dubbed by the press as “The Soho Strangler”. And so, 80 years on…
…the murder of “Dutch Leah” remains unsolved. So who was “Dutch Leah”, why was she killed, why was her murder attributed to “The Soho Strangler” and – more importantly – who killed her? Murder Mile Walks investigates. Born Constance May Hinds in 1912 to mother Kathleen Hinds (a career criminal, convicted thief, alcoholic and prostitute) and an unknown father, Constance had a tough upbringing, which didn’t get any easier the older she got. By the tender age of 18 years old, she’d been married twice, dated a slew of unsavoury characters, was forced to give her own daughter up for adoption, and had eight convictions for prostitution, which funded her rampant alcoholism. Nicknamed “Dutch Leah”, Constance Hinds was born and raised in London, and had no connection to Holland at all, except having – like most London-born prostitutes – adopted a street-name that made her sound more “exotic” than she really was. By 1936, the year of her death, “Dutch Leah” was known by a range of non-de-plumes including Leah Hinds, Connie Smith, Connie May Hinds, Constance Smith, and was affectionately known as “Stilts Leah” on account of her love of wearing very high heels. But with arrears spiralling, she frequently moved from shabby lodging to hideous hovel, leaving a trail of angry debtors behind her. On the evening of the 8th May 1936, “Dutch Leah” – having partied a little too hard and drank a little too much in a local Soho gin palace– was last seen entering her lodgings at 66 Old Compton Street with a “gentleman friend”. The next morning, her diminutive husband - Stanley King – knocked on the door, but got no reply. Not having a key, and fearing the worst, he procured the help of a passing labourer called Addams, who broke down the door. Stanley found his wife lying on their matrimonial bed. Her dress was rucked up around her midriff, her genitals exposed, as if she was awaiting a customer - but no sex had taken place - instead she’d been violently strangled with a thin copper wire, and her head had been brutally bashed in with a rusty flat iron, splitting her skull wide open.
So, who was this “gentleman friend” she was last seen with? Was he “The Soho Strangler?” Unfortunately, no-one knows, as the man dubbed “The Soho Strangler” was never caught. What we do know is that her “gentleman friend” was “tall, slim, clean shaven, foreign, had long hair and a slouching gait, and he wore a dark raincoat… but not a hat (unusual for the period)”. Three sets of finger prints were found in the room by Police; Dutch Leah’s. Stanley King’s… and one other - never identified.
And that is all the evidence we have. Unfortunately, in 1936, forensic science was still in its formative years, with Home Office Pathologist Sir Bernard Spilbury’s “murder kit” (a suitcase for evidence gathering) only introduced a few years earlier. Which is why no corroborative evidence exists on many of London’s earlier and most infamous murder cases – especially “Jack the Ripper” - as during the birth of the Police Force, “beat officers” were effectively little more than untrained “moral guardians”, who – upon discovering a murder – would often reposition the body, remove the murder weapon, and would have the blood-soaked street washed down for fear of offending the public’s moral decency. So, was “Dutch Leah” murdered by “The Soho Strangler”? No. Of course she wasn’t. “The Soho Strangler” is just a name; a convenient yet slightly sensational character, created by eager-journalists, during the early days of tabloid, to sell newspapers. Just as they had done fifty years earlier in the “Jack the Ripper” case. With literacy amongst the British working class starting to blossom, newspapers had stopped being the preserve of the educated elite, and tabloid news born, with an eye towards sensational stories to lure the “less educated” readers in. So, there wasn’t a “Soho Strangler”? It’s possible, but unlikely. As with the Jack the Ripper case, there are as many similarities as there are dissimilarities between each of the victims, which can easily skew your perception of “who killed who”, either one way or another. So, let’s look at what the Press purported to be “facts”: Fact #1: “All four victims of the Soho Strangler were prostitutes”? Incorrect. Although Paulette “French Marie” Estelle, Josephine “French Fifi” Martin and Constance “Dutch Leah” Hinds all worked in the sex trade, the third victim – Marie Jeanette Cotton – had no prior convictions for soliciting, no pimp and (unlike the others) no known street name. Fact #2: “All four of the victims of the Soho Strangler were murdered in Soho?” No. The first victim of the man dubbed "The Soho Strangler" by the Press was actually murdered in Bath Row… which was in Euston, one and a half miles away. Fact #3: “All four Soho Strangler victims were strangled?” – Yes, all were strangled, but each in a different way, which suggests they weren’t strangled by the same perpetrator.
Three facts, purported by the Press, all with big gaping holes. Still that didn’t stop unscrupulous tabloids like The Mirror proclaiming “Maniac’s Three Soho Victims! Girl’s Friends Fear to Talk”, even though they seemed to find enough “friends” willing to talk in the article itself, even though the Police confirmed that they could find “no clear link between either of the women”.
The Press had also wrongly attributed the “Soho Strangler” murders to Soho’s very own Kings of Sleaze and the pimps of the West End’s red-light district (1920’s to the mid 1930’s) Roger Vernon and his partner "Red Max" Kassel (photo on right). Unfortunately, their proof is easily dispelled. Fact #4: Although Roger Vernon and “Red Max” were Soho pimps – just like most illicit relationships between pimps and prostitutes, very little connection is provable or ever written down. Fact #5: Yes, “Red Max” had a fondness for strangling, hence he was the Police’s number one suspect in the strangulation of “French Fifi” who lived & died in his flat, but… Fact #6: …although “Red Max” was a Soho pimp, and the prime suspect in the murder of the Soho Strangler’s second victim, before murders #3 (Marie Jeanette Cotton) and #4 “Dutch Leah”, Red Max Kassel was already dead and Roger Vernon was in prison. So, if we remove this whole myth about “The Soho Strangler” and what facts are we left with?
And if she was murdered by a punter – given that prostitution is a notoriously dangerous profession – why was she not raped, and not robbed? Was “Dutch Leah’s” murder the work of someone with an intolerable hatred for prostitutes, a vendetta against “Dutch Leah” herself, or simply - given the severity of her murder – had a severe mental illness, such as Neurosyphilis (a common illness of that era, the symptoms of which include headaches, mood swings, hallucinations and violent rages)? Unfortunately, we shall never know. 
And yet, one piece of the puzzle still perplexes me? Stanley King, “Dutch Leah’s” husband had to break down the door of their second floor flat on 66 Old Compton Street (see photo on left), as he “didn’t have a key”? But with the “Dutch Leah’s” key still in her handbag, the door must have been locked from the inside? So, if that’s true, how did her killer escape? Her flat’s two stories up, with nothing to grip onto?
Had the British tabloid press chosen to accurately investigate the murders of “French Marie”, “French Fifi”, Marie Jeanette Cotton and “Dutch Leah”, instead of concocting a sensational if slightly ludicrous story such as “The Soho Strangler”, then maybe these murders would be solved today? Instead they sold an eager public a lie, to sell newspapers, just as they’d done fifty years earlier in the Jack the Ripper case. And so, 80 years on… …the murder of “Dutch Leah” remains unsolved.
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 18 murderers, 3 serial killers, across 21 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.
www.murdermiletours.com 
But for each “King”, on every street; life was as dangerous as it was short, and often messy. During the 50’s and 60’s, Italian-born “King of Sleaze” Anthony Mella ran most of Soho’s hostess clubs. As his name suggests, “Big Tony” was tall and muscular, he was an ex-boxer who sparred with the infamous enforcer for The Richardson Gang - “Mad Frankie Fraser”, and was feared and respected. In 1963, “Big Tony” bought the Grill Club at 48 Dean Street, which he renamed The Bus Stop. It comprised of a law-abiding café on the ground floor, a drinking den serviced by scantily clad ladies in the basement, and comfortable offices above for himself and the club’s manager, his life-long friend, Alfred Melvin. But on January 28th 1963, at eleven fifteen pm, “Big Tony” burst through this door (see photo to right) and staggered into Dean Street, having been shot three times in back; the first bullet punctured his lung, the second ripped through his stomach - his hand struggling to stem the blood flow - and the third nicked a small hole in his heart. He collapsed just shy of Romilly Street, and died face down in the gutter. Inside the club, Tony’s best friend, Alfred Melvin lay dead; a skilful single gunshot had blasted a hole through his head, blowing his brains up their newly decorated wall. Police suspected this was the work of rival gangsters hoping to muscle in on Big Tony’s patch. When questioned, a waiter at The French House said he’d heard shouting, followed by four loud pops. At Melvin’s feet, the killer had dropped a small calibre Browning pistol, and with fingerprints on the butt & trigger, this confirmed their suspicions. But, as the Police were reminded by anyone who knew the two, no-one was stupid enough to take on “Big Tony”. No-one. Or so you’d think? Upon examination, in the breast pocket of Alfred Melvin’s jacket, Police found a hastily scrawled note, detailing to his wife how he pressed “Big Tony” into repaying a £400 debt, as Tony, now flush, had the funds to afford it, but had refused, and had humiliated Alfred Melvin in front of the hostesses. In a fit of anger, Alfred shot his best friend three times in the back, then fearing retaliation, turned the gun on himself. But... in a rare act of forgiveness, Tony’s wife sent a wreath to Melvin’s funeral and visa-versa. But before either of their husbands were even buried, “Big Tony’s” patch had already been carved up, and a new “King of Sleaze” was crowned. Life went on, and soon, both men were forgotten. 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 (and often forgotten) murder cases, featuring 18 murderers, 3 serial killers, across 21 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.
www.murdermiletours.com |
AuthorMichael J Buchanan-Dunne is a crime writer, podcaster & tour guide of Murder Mile Walks, hailed as one of the best "quirky curious & unusual things to do in London". 
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Note: This blog contains only licence-free images or photos shot by myself in compliance with UK & EU copyright laws. If any image breaches these laws, blame Google Images.
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