Murder Mile Podcast #19 - Norah Upchurch and her Lonely Death in the Empty Shop Part Two - TRANSCRIPT
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Full Transcript - Ep #19 Norah Upchurch and her Lonely Death in the Empty Shop Part Two
INTRO: Thank you for downloading episode nineteen of the Murder Mile true-crime podcast.
If you’re a new listener? Hello, thank you, welcome and I hope you enjoy the show. Just to let you know that this episode is the concluding part of the murder of Norah Upchurch, so I would strongly advise downloading episode eighteen first. To my regular listeners, thank you so much for your continued support, for the fabulous feedback, for sharing this podcast with your friends and especially for your lovely five star reviews, which truly does warm my cockles (that’s not a sexual thing).
Don’t forget to stay tuned to the end of this episode to hear more about Murder Mile’s podcast of the week, this time it’s the brilliant True-Crime Finland; thank you for listening and enjoy the episode.
SCRIPT: Welcome to Murder Mile; a true-crime podcast and audio guided walk featuring many of London’s untold, unsolved and long-forgotten murders, all set within one square mile of the West End. Today’s episode is the concluding part of the murder of Norah Upchurch; a West End prostitute who was found strangled in a locked and empty shop by Frederick Field, a local handy-man whose detailed description of her supposed killer ultimately lead the Police to their chief suspect – himself. Murder Mile contains grisly details which may offend, as well as realistic sounds, so that no matter where you listen to this podcast, you’ll feel like you’re actually there.My name is Michael, I am your tour-guide and this is Murder Mile. Episode 19: Norah Upchurch and her Lonely Death in the Empty Shop Part Two.
On Tuesday 25th July 1933 at 12:30pm, in Shoe Lane; a tightly cobble-stoned road just off Fleet Street, (which is the supposed workplace of the bloody barber Sweeney Todd, but is more famously the home of many of Britain’s worst tabloid hacks who’d happily slit their own mother’s throat, spill their grannie’s guts and package up the entrails into a steamy festering pie, simply to lure their easily-duped readers into swallowing great mouthfuls of unfettered bullshit) a man paced nervously back and forth, his black scuffed boots almost wearing a hole in the pavement, the rough callused fingers of his trembling hand shaking as he chain-smoked another cigarette.
And although he didn’t look like a journalist - being just five-foot seven inches tall, ten stone in weight, with odd little elfin-like ears, hollow brown eyes, a large bulbous nose, ruffled brown hair and dressed in a tatty dark suit, he looked out of place amongst the throng of typists, scribblers and finger-smiths, and more at home on a building site, a factory or renovating an empty shop - the deep dark secret he had held onto for almost two years would be front page news for weeks to come.
With a deep breath and a determined nod, the man stubbed out his cigarette, turned on his heels and – having made a life-changing decision which would lead to his grisly death – he walked into the London offices of right-wing tabloid newspaper, the Daily Sketch, and asked for Mister Leaver, a senior reporter he had met just two years before, when the man was the principle witness in the unresolved murder trial of a 20 year old West End prostitute who died in the dark passage of an empty shop,
Tentatively greeting the nervous man with a vague smile and a distant handshake, senior reporter Mr Leaver enquired “So, tell me, what’s this is all about?” To which the man gulped, his saliva unable to swallow back the words which for so long had been stuck in his throat, and muttered “well… I did it”. Mister Leaver’s eyes widened, an eye-brow raised, with a nervous grin which crinkled the sides of his mouth, and casually asked “you mean… you killed Norah Upchurch?” The man replied “yes”. His name… was Frederick Field, and three years later, he would be dead. (INTERSTITIAL)
Born on the 16th April 1904, in Acton (West London, just three miles from the childhood home of Norah Upchurch), although poor, Frederick Herbert Charles Field was a spoilt brat and a habitual liar who was born to a strict disciplinarian father who ruled his brood with an iron rod, a drunken fist and an ever thrashing leather belt, and a molly-coddling mother whose son (in her eyes) was a blameless angel. With mixed-signals dominating his young life, Field grew-up courting trouble, openly lying and always believing that (no matter how bad he was) he would always be protected.
Being disinterested and distracted, Field left school aged fourteen with few qualifications, he drifted in and out of various menial jobs, until 1926, when aged 22, his father forced his listless son to enlist as an Aircraftsman in the Royal Air Force, which he did, for three whole years. But on 7th April 1929, having married his sweetheart Bessie Matilda, Field was discharged from the Air Force for an “unspecified” offence, and once again drifted between jobs, pubs, pawn-shops, bookies and brothels.
By 1931, the year that Norah Upchurch was murdered, with Field now being the father of new born baby daughter and finally holding down a semi-steady job as a sign-fixer at Hilder & Co in Soho, money was tight, tempers were frayed and their marital-bed was icy cold. Not because of the baby, but because of the very simple reason that at the Inquest into the murder of Norah Upchurch, Frederick Field wasn’t just their star witness, he was also… a suspect. (INTERSTITIAL).
On Friday 20th July 1933, five days prior to his confession, Field had lost his employment with Hilder & Co, and he was hungry, desperate and broke. But it wasn’t the shame, the guilt or even the horror at having strangled Norah to death and deprived her three year old daughter of a mother which drove him to confess, it was money and fame. Before he would talk, Field demanded full payment upfront, his family’s safety assured, a front page spread with his photo, and the Daily Sketch to fully fund his legal defence. When Mr Leaver said no, he wanted to hear the story first, after a whole second of thought, Field cracked and began to spill every sordid detail.
At 10:30pm that evening, at the Marlborough Street Police Station, Frederick Field made a full confession to Superintendent George Cornish. It went roughly like this: On Tuesday 29th September 1931, at exactly 1:40pm, Field left Hilder & Co at 23 Great Pulteney Street to remove the ‘To Let’ signs from 173/177 Shaftesbury Avenue, having collected the keys off Miss Keenan at Perry & Ball first. We know this as a fact. At 2pm, Field handed the only set of keys to the premises to an unidentified man in a Plus Fours suit, having been duped by a false work-order and lured by the offer of future employment, they agreed to meet later that evening. Only Field can verify if this as fact, as neither the Plus Fours man nor the keys were ever seen again.
At 5pm, that evening, Field headed home to 148 Clensham Lane (in Sutton, South London); his squalid basement flat which he shared with his wife, baby daughter, brother-in-law and mother, arriving at roughly 6:30pm. With little time to spare, Field ate his dinner, washed, and dressed in his best suit.
Leaving home at 7:30pm, Field arrived at Piccadilly Circus tube station by 9pm for his ill-fated meeting with the Plus Fours man who oddly had forgotten his keys to 177 Shaftesbury Avenue and although he promised to return in just “ten minutes”, having handed Field £2 (which is roughly £140 in today’s money) for materials to start the job, Field waited for him in the St James’ Tavern on the corner of Great Windmill Street and Denham Street, but he never returned.
Now, whether we choose to believe Field’s story about the Plus Fours man is irrelevant. And even if every word of his confession, so far, is complete and utter lies, it is all vital to excavating the truth, as it is right here, from this point onwards, that Field takes us closer to what may have actually happened that night, and later, he is undone by his own web of lies. So take a deep breath… and let’s begin.
Dressed in his best suit for a meeting which didn’t happen, and at a loose end, Field dawdled around the West End for an hour, until 10:25pm as he was strolling down Bear Street, a side street off Leicester Square, he was beckoned forth by a petite pretty brunette with bobbed hair who was soliciting for sex, she wore a green two-piece outfit, black gloves, stockings and shoes, a black leather handbag, a green felt hat and a green felt belt. They’d never met before, and he never asked her name, but this was Norah Upchurch. Having procured sex-worker’s services many times prior, Field bartered briefly with Norah outside of 7 Bear Street, and invited her back to “his place” at 177 Shaftesbury Avenue.
Unlocking the glass-fronted dark wooden door with his keys, Field escorted Norah along the dark unlit passageway, passed the partition wall, and turned right into the backroom of the empty shop. Being almost pitch-black and barely illuminated by the street-lights outside; with no bed, sofa, sheets or soft furnishings of any kind, Field asked her to lay down on the cold stone floor.
Rightly, not wishing to ruin her pretty green dress, dirty her hair or scuff her black heeled shoes, Norah said “no”, which left them at a bit of a sexual impasse. Field enquired “well what are you going to do?”, to which Norah, not wanting to pass-up a few pounds and thinking on her feet, placed a few scattered pages of newspaper on the floor, and dropping to her knees, in her best East End slang she said “I’m gonna gam you”, and she proceeded to felate his floppy penis.
According to Field’s own confession, he didn’t ask for a blowjob and he didn’t want a blowjob, in fact he didn’t want sex with Norah at all, but during the sex-act, with the frustrated Field standing upright and Norah on her knees, her green felt hat bobbing back-and-forth like a circus seal performing for fish, Field states that Norah (whether accidentally, sexually or maliciously) bit his penis; sinking her teeth into his wrinkled gnarly knob, scraping his fleshy shaft and drawing blood. Of course, by the time of this confession, a full month later, the teeth-marks on his bloodied manhood had healed.
But that evening, in the pitch-black backroom of 177 Shaftesbury Avenue, as he stood over Norah, Field saw red; not just on her lips, not just on his penis, but in his eyes. And as his rage grew, in his right hand he gripped Norah around the throat, squeezing tightly, trapping her airway, until a few seconds later, never once speaking or screaming, her body went limp and slumped to the floor.
In Field’s own words he would state “I knew that something was seriously wrong when she fell back, I lost control of myself and I cannot remember exactly what happened afterwards”. But then again, the crime-scene evidence tells us exactly what happened next; as lying unconscious on the floor, Field clawed at Norah’s vests, shredding the slight material from her breast to her naval, and ripping apart her white silk jumper he rolled it into a ball and forced the makeshift gag into her mouth, suffocating her as he gripped both ends of her green felt belt, strangling her, until her body had stopped struggling, her legs had stopped twitching, her lungs had stopped breathing, and Norah Upchurch was dead.
Before locking-up and leaving her body lying in the cold empty shop for three days, Field states he took Norah’s black leather handbag, which contained four £1 notes, a set of keys, a small ring and a packet of French letters (which is slang for condoms). At Leicester Square tube station, he boarded the Northern Line train taking it to the end of the line at Morden, hopped on a bus to the Rose Hill Estate and into a dark hedge by the Sutton bypass, he threw Norah’s black handbag and the keys to the shop. Field arrived home at 11:45pm, as witnessed by his wife.
Over the next two days, Field returned to his regular work duties as if nothing had happened, with no mention of the missing keys, the Plus Fours man, or the strangled body of Norah Upchurch.
But on Thursday 1st October, a plumber at Hilder & Co called William Thomas Finlay who was assigned to fix a leaky pipe at 177 Shaftesbury Avenue was struggling to find the keys; they weren’t at Hilder & Co, they hadn’t been returned to Perry & Ball, and just two days before, both keys were signed for by Frederick Field and were currently missing. Which brings us right back where this story began.
As on Friday 2nd October 1931 at roughly 10am, having been chastised by Miss Keenan of Perry & Ball for handing over the only set of keys to a mysterious man in a Plus Four suit who was holding a clearly falsified work-order, Douglas W L Bartram and his shamed workmate Frederick Field, using an iron hammer and a chisel, forced entry at the rear of 177 Shaftesbury Avenue, planning to remove the ‘To Let’ signs, to fix a leaky pipe and to await the arrival of a locksmith to secure the property. And it is, at that moment, that Field (shaking, trembling and frightened) discovers the body of Norah Upchurch.
That was the confession of Frederick Field, as made on Tuesday 25th July 1933 at 12:30pm to Mr Leaver of the Daily Sketch, and later that evening, to Superintendent George Cornish of the Marlborough Street Police Station, where he was promptly cautioned and arrested.
With his wife and baby-daughter safely ensconced at her parent’s home in Cardiff (South Wales), a full page spread and photo of himself in almost every newspaper, the Daily Sketch covering his full legal defence, instructing Mr Henry Flint as his solicitor and having given a full confession detailing his crime, Frederick Herbert Charles Field was tried on the 20th September 1933, at the Old Bailey, for the murder of 20 year old Annie Louise Norah Upchurch. (Silence / long pause).
But… can Frederick Field’s confession to the Daily Sketch, or even the Police, be trusted?
At the original inquest into the murder of Norah Upchurch on Thursday 19th November 1931, at which Field was both the star witness and a prime suspect, Coroner Mr Ingleby Oddie, upon hearing Field’s baffling statement about the missing keys, the Plus Fours man and his shocking discovery of Norah’s body, Mr Oddie made it clear to the jury that they were entitled to either accept his evidence as fact, or not, stating “You might express your disbelief in his story, but at the same time you might well record a verdict against some person or person unknown”. And presented with no concrete evidence, the jury did what they were told to do, which is why they declared her murder unsolved.
Hidden behind his eye-witness accounts, court testimony, Police statements and even a confession, which was a heady mix of provable facts, half-truths and outright lies, was the arrogance of a man who – since his birth – believed he could do as he pleased and could get away with it; whether spinning an elaborate lie, leading the police across London on a wild goose-chase as he thumbed through the Police Crime Index and pointed the finger of guilt at Peter Webb, an innocent man wrongly arrested at Richmond Police Station, and all the while – at the inquest into Norah’s tragic death – feeling that he was the smartest man in the room, later stating “I was pitting my brains against the Coroner and the Police and I won”. As with arrogant relish, he added “One thing that annoyed me all the time is my realisation that, although I committed the murder and got away with it, the people I wanted to prove this to do not know it… but they will now”. Never once showing an ounce of remorse for the murder, for Norah, or her orphaned child – Marjorie.
The Metropolitan Police first suspected Field on the day that Norah’s body was found, as so rare is this occurrence that anyone who finds a corpse is instantly the prime suspect. But also because (having met this mysterious Plus Fours man for just ten minutes) three days later, after the emotional shock of having discovered a dead body, Field gave the Police a remarkably detailed description of this man, stating he was “aged about 30, 6 feet 1 inches tall, tanned complexion, mousey hair cropped short at the back and sides, with a mousey coloured thin moustache with a gap in the middle, a gold tooth in his right upper jaw, he was of medium build, with square shoulders, was well-spoken and was dressed in a biscuit or beige coloured plus four suit with a two inch square pattern, he wore a gingery brown tweed cap and a gold watch on a leather strap on his left wrist, and he looked like a well-to-do man who was a native of London”. And yet, just days later, when Field was volunteering his time to patrol the West End with the Police to find this mad-man, his description had been refined to “aged 22, 6ft 3in, medium complexion, greyish blue eyes, light brown hair, rather long face, broad shoulders, and he was dressed dark grey lounge suit with a double breasted waistcoat”. An almost entirely different man, with no reference to his gold tooth, gold watch, gingery cap, and no plus fours suit.
But then again, the inconsistencies in the first two statements made by Frederick Field to the Police pale into insignificance when you unravel the truth and lies hidden within Field’s own confession. If you’re ready? Let’s attack them in chronological order:
On Tuesday 29th September 1931, the day of Norah’s murder, Field was assigned by Hilder & Co to remove the ‘To Let’ signs from the exterior of 177 Shaftesbury Avenue. And yet, why is it that three days later, on the day Norah’s body was discovered, clearly visible on the Police crime-scene photos, on the outside of the empty shop were the ‘To Let’ signs, a simple job he attempted to do… twice?
That day, having met the mysterious Plus Fours man inside 177 Shaftesbury Avenue, in broad daylight, during which they briefly discussed the lighting layout for the shop, why would Field (who was a trained electrician) choose to meet a prospective client, at night, in a dark building, with no lights?
And why, at 9:20pm, having waited twenty minutes for the forgetful Plus Fours man, did Field over the next hour during which he was at a loose end, why did he not go back to 177 Shaftesbury Avenue where he knew the Plus Fours man had gone to get the keys for, and would eventually arrive?
Given that the Plus Fours man was Field’s alibi for the missing keys, and that these keys were the only way that Norah’s killer could have entered and exited the empty shop, why is his alibi so full of holes? Is he merely misremembering these details, or is this a desperate lie he’s making up on the spot? Which brings us onto the night of the murder.
At 10:25pm, Field states he met Norah Upchurch on Bear Street, just off Leicester Square, and having procured her services for sex, he invited her back to (what he referred to as) “his place”. And yet, on the first floor of 7 Bear Street, right where they had met, Norah had rented flat which she used to entertain her customers, so why would she go with him to Shaftesbury Avenue?
Upon entering the empty shop at 177 Shaftesbury Avenue, Field states that he and Norah walked through the passageway and into a dark and dusty backroom, where supposedly the sex-act and her strangulation took place. But if the evidence shows us that they shared a cigarette by the doorway, and having strangled her in front of the glass-fronted door, Field then dragged her unconscious body, by the legs, ten feet up the passageway? Why would he make such as arbitrary change the location of the murder, when there was no evidence of anyone, or any assault, in the backroom, at all?
Field states that his impulse to kill was provoked when she had bitten his penis - a bizarre claim which is impossible to prove or refute as by the time he’d made his confession, these marks had supposedly healed – but more importantly, why would a professional prostitute who has performed oral sex hundreds if not thousands of times, deliberately or accidentally injure his penis and draw blood?
Having lashed out in anger, Fields claims he strangled Norah with his right hand until she passed out. But why would he admit this when the autopsy would clearly confirm that she was brutally garrotted using her own green felt belt, and there were no finger marks found on or around her throat?
And yet, having given a full confession to Mr Leaver of the Daily Sketch - stating that unlike his Police statements before, that this time he was telling the truth - whilst he claims that the murder of Norah Upchurch was a crime-of-passion, Field (in the same confession) would claim his motive was to attempt to pull-off the “perfect murder”; to kill a stranger (like Norah Upchurch), have someone else blamed for the crime (like Peter Webb) and to get away with it?
Ignoring the fact that a “perfect murder” is only committed if you don’t confess to it, even if we accept his assertion that her murder was pre-meditated, why didn’t Field bring a weapon with him (such as a rope, a knife, or a cosh), rather than using Norah’s own belt? And why, rather than relying on the bizarre story of the Plus Fours man as his alibi, a man who was never identified (and probably never existed) why didn’t Field simply return the keys to Perry & Ball, having first made a copy for himself?
Not to mention the fact that neither the Daily Sketch nor the Police could find Norah’s handbag or the keys in the bushes by the Sutton bypass where Field claims he’d thrown them? Why is it that the day after the murder, Bessie Field’s wife had seen Field place on the bedside dressed £2 in notes and a few coins in silvers, even he had told her he was broke and wouldn’t be paid till the Saturday?
Which brings us to the two most important inconsistences in Field’s confession: if Fields gave the Plus Fours man the only set of keys to the empty shop, how did both he and Norah Upchurch unlock the glass-fronted door and enter 177 Shaftesbury Avenue?
And, that evening, at 8pm, with Norah Upchurch having paid the rent to her first floor flat at 7 Bear Street and purchased a four-pack of condoms, leaving her with four £1 notes? How is it that Field knows the exact contents of her black leather handbag, which (just like the keys) were never found?
Armed with Field’s confession, on Wednesday 29th September 1933, Frederick Herbert Charles Field was tried at the Old Bailey on the capital charge of murdering Annie Louisa Norah Upchurch in an empty shop on the 29th September 1931, a crime which (if found guilty of both charges of murder and theft, and having been declared sane by a medical profession) would warrant a death sentence.
Having fully confessed to his crimes, signed this statement, and having sworn on the Bible to tell “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth”, with the Judge, the Police prosecution and his own defence funded by the Daily Sketch, all of whom readied themselves for his “guilty” plea, making the trial a mere formality, which would be done and dusted before lunch, when Mister Justice Swift asked how the accused pleaded to the charge of murder, with a wry smile, Field replied…“not guilty”.
As gasps and shocked silences gripped the room, it was clear that had Field admitted his guilt that the evidence would be irrelevant, but having pleaded “not guilty”, the burden of proof was placed upon the Police. Their evidence of which was wholly circumstantial and based almost entirely on the confession of Field himself, in a signed statement which (even he admitted was a fabrication), none of which could either be proved or disproved, and that, having been accused of Norah’s murder at the original inquest, Field said he had falsified his confession in order to establish his innocence.
With Mr Justice Swift readily admitting to Field that this “is a peculiar way of proving your innocence by saying you are guilty”, Field replied “it was the only way”. And after a farcical trial during which very little evidence was given, on the charge of murdering Norah Upchurch, Mr Justice Swift found Frederick Herbert Charles Field “not guilty”. He was acquitted of all charges, and – that same day – he walked free, stating to the assembled press “I am satisfied now that I have cleared my name, my future plans are indefinite but I hope to start my life again without the finger of suspicion pointing at me”.
Field’s wife Bessie remained in Cardiff with her daughter, she divorced Field a few years later. Unable to gain regular work from his old employer HIlder & Co, Field re-enlisted in the Royal Air Force, but after a short stint, Field absconded from Hendon Aerodrome having stolen four cheques.
Two weeks later, on 4th April 1936, at 8 Elmhurst Gardens in Clapham (South London), a 48 year old prostitute named Beatrice Vilna Sutton was robbed and found strangled in her bed. When arrested, although he fully confessed to the crime, in a series of events unnervingly similar to the murder of Norah Upchurch, the culprit later retracted his statement and pleaded “not guilty”. Only this time, having disclosed a little too much information, which only the Police would have known, or her killer, the accused was found guilty of her murder, and on 30th June 1936, he was executed by hanging at Wandsworth Prison. His name… was Frederick Field.
OUTRO: Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for listening to Murder Mile. If you’re looking for a new true-crime podcast, this week’s treat is the fantastic True-Crime Finland, in which our amazing host Minna, takes us on a grisly tour of land of the midnight sun, Finland, a country as strange, dark and sinister as the serial killers and murderers it has produced. Check it out. (PLAY PROMO)
Don’t forget to check out the Murder Mile website at murdermiletours.com, find us on Twitter or Instagram, or join the Murder Mile True-Crime Podcast discussion group on Facebook. 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…. The Bungling Assassins of Alexander Litvinenko. Thank you and sleep well.
Sources: As well as British Newspaper Archive and Ancestry.com The original files and photos of the National Archives have been used with thier kind permission under a Government License 3.0. With additional music used under a Creative Commons License 4.0 (Attribution) via Free Music Archive, with all additional tracks written & performed by.
With additional sounds used under the Freesound.Org Creative Commons agreement, provided by various artists, their details and links available below:
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.
Michael 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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