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EPISODE TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY-TWO: On 9th November 1940, just before 4am, the pay office of George Wimpey & Co was broken into at 16 Railway Arches in Hammersmith. The pay clerk was murdered, two gang masters were seriously injured, there were no witnesses to the attack and nothing was stolen. But why?
THE LOCATION
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SOURCES: This case was researched using some of the sources below.
MUSIC:
UNEDITED TRANSCRIPT OF THE EPISODE: Welcome to Murder Mile. Today, I’m standing on Hammersmith Grove in Hammersmith, W6; one street west of the pick-up by George Edward Heath, one street north of the blind obsession murders, and just three streets south of the cruel and sadistic killing spree by the Shoe Box Killer - coming very soon to Murder Mile. To the side of Hammersmith Broadway station on the Hammersmith & City line stands a defunct set of railway arches for the disused Grove Road station. It’s the kind of place you might go for a baggie of scag, a swift hand shandy, a dodgy geezer doing barely legal MOT’s for a tenner, a hand gun for a pony, and a safe blown for a score, but mostly it’s full of rats, mice, litter, porn mags and pigeon poop. Back in the 1940s, 16 Railway Arches was the pay office for George Wimpey & Co, with a little window where labourers came to collect their weekly wage from Alfred Mitchell, the pay clerk. Being a discrete wooden office in a yard full of lorries, steam rollers and building materials - with no signs as to this arch’s purpose - you would only go there if you knew where it was, what it was and why it was there. So it’s odd, that on 9th November 1940, just before 4am, the pay office was broken into and three men were attacked in their beds as they slept. But was this a robbery, a cover-up or was it revenge? My name is Michael, I am your tour guide, and this is Murder Mile. Episode 252 – The Sleepers. By November 1940, two months into a perpetual eight-month bombing campaign by the Luftwaffe, an enforced blackout had left the city in total darkness and with millions of civilians evacuated to the country, a fleet of labourers remained to repair the infrastructure and to keep the city running. That night, Hammersmith Grove was patrolled by George Chinnery, an air raid warden who ensured that not a lamp, a bulb, a fire or a match gave away any location in the city to the looming bombers above. On Saturday 9th of November, at precisely four AM, “I know it was that time as the clock had struck four” George stated, “I saw a bright light shining from one of the arches”. As a local lad, he knew the yard was always open, he knew it was regularly patrolled by William Sturgeon the night watchmen, he knew that 16 Railway Arches was the pay office of George Wimpey & Co, and he knew that Alfred Mitchell known as Fred had recently begun sleeping there with his bosses permission - as had two of the gang masters (Wilfred Dyer and Harry Jamieson) owing to the long shifts they had been working. Entering the yard, he saw nothing suspicious, just a shaft of light from a bare bulb in the rear office shining through a wide-open window in the front office, whose blackout cloth had been removed. It happens, cloths fall down, and with it being against blackout regulations, it was his job to enforce it. Sticking his head in through the window, “I saw a man asleep on a camp bed”. Dressed in pyjamas, with his head on a pillow and his blankets up to his chest. George shouted to the sleeper “is anyone awake?”, and although the sleeper didn’t stir, from a rear office the silhouette of Harry Jamieson did. “Put that light out” George barked, the large ‘W’ on his helmet making it clear who he was and why he was here, but as Jamieson slowly stumbled into the light, it was clear that something was wrong. The warden was let in via a door which wasn’t locked, but then, it never was locked. Inside the rear office, barely 14 feet long by 9 feet wide, the windows were closed, the blackout cloth was still in place, nothing had been ransacked, and on one of the two camp beds sat Wilfred Dyer. In shock, he nursed a three-inch wound from his left eye to his ear, as a suspected skull fracture bled. Jamieson, also wearing pyjamas, had a two-inch wound to his forehead, two puncture wounds to his forearm and right shoulder, a suspected skull fracture, and although the office itself was intact, with nothing obviously missing, the walls were spattered with blood as both men had stumbled deliriously. Struggling to recall what had happened, as both men drifted in and out of consciousness, Dyer stated “a man broke in and attacked us while we slept”, which was consistent with their injuries. But having occurred during a blackout and having sustained a head wound, all Jamieson recalled was “I caught a shadow of a man in the doorway of the front office. I was on my knees at the time so cannot judge his height. He was wearing a hat of some sort, it wasn’t a cap, but a felt type Trilby”, and that was all. The air-raid warden called the police and administered first aid to the two injured men, but it was as he went to the front office to check on the silent and (seemingly) sleeping frame of Alfred Mitchell… …that he realised he was dead. Mitchell’s autopsy conducted by Sir Bernard Spilsbury stated “a violent single blow from behind, whilst in a sitting position, caused a wound two inches in length on the right side top of head, the skull was not completely exposed, and the cause of death was haemorrhage on the lower region of the brain”. The investigation was headed up by Divisional Detective Inspector Frederick Young who was left with a perplexing mystery; as with no signs of any struggle or robbery, even though the temperature of the body confirmed that they had been attacked within the last hour - with no other witnesses - Jamieson had only brief flashes of memory of the attack, and whereas Dyer could remember almost nothing. The theory that this was a burglary proved problematic, as whoever had broken in, had used a crowbar to jemmy the front office window. Only with it not being locked and only held shut with a hasp, it didn’t need a crowbar to open it, which anyone who had been there before would have known. Below the window, on a desk, police found a palm print and a boot mark which matched none of those who were injured or murdered, but proved that the assailant had entered and exited via this route, which – just like the crowbar – made no sense, as everyone knew that the main door was never locked. Recreating the event, the police hypothesised that “as the suspect got in, his entry awakened Mitchell from his drunken sleep”, having had several pints of beer that night “and he was bludgeoned over the head with a fire poker” or the crowbar, which was never found, suggesting the killer took it with them. Mitchell’s body was mistaken by the warden as sleeping as there were no signs of any struggle, and “having entered the rear office, the assailant attacked Dyer then Jamieson, and then made his escape”. But what was the motive? Outside of the open window, a wooden tray containing documents was found, but none were of any financial value. In the rear office nothing was taken, and although the front office had a desk, a deed box and an iron safe containing £150, 2 shillings & 8 pence (roughly £8000 today), nothing was stolen. It may seem odd that the security was so lax, but even though the weekly wage stored in the safe for upwards of 120 men was sometimes as much as £1000 (£53000 today), they’d never had a robbery, as very few people knew that the money was there, and no-one was stupid enough to try and steal it. There was no signs of disorder, no drawers were opened, and still in Mitchell’s pocket was his wallet, as well as his savings book, his letters and the keys to the safe. So, if the culprit hadn’t been disturbed, or a robbery wasn’t the motive, was this a case of mistaken identity, or was the attack personal? Several beer bottles were found in the office, confirming what Dyer and Jamieson had stated, that all three men had a drink together before they went to bed at 11:15pm. On the bottles, the fingerprints of Dyer, Jamieson and Mitchell were found, as well as one other person. But who was he? As part of the investigation, every street, bush and drain was searched in vain for a possible murder weapon, all employees who were paid weekly by the dead man were interrogated, their clothing was checked for bloodstains (in an era when most workmen had just two sets of clothes), and although hundreds of current and former employees were questioned, not a single suspect was identified. So, why had these three men been attacked? The dead man was 41-year-old Alfred Mitchell, known as ‘Fred’. Born and raised in Peterhead, a port town in the Scottish county of Aberdeenshire, he left school aged 14, and being short and stocky, he was destined to become a labourer, but also being good at maths, he progressed to being a pay clerk. Recently separated from his wife, at the start of the war, Mitchell had moved into his sister’s home at 77 Verulam Road in St Alban’s, but finding the daily commute to Hammersmith too long, his bosses let him sleep in the office (as some of the gangmasters did), providing added security for the wages. Mitchell was reliable and strict with no criminal record, but he wasn’t what you’d call popular. Described by Dyer as “bad-tempered”, all agreed “he was a heavy drinker with an officious manner with the labourers”, many of whom were Irish. Like many of the ill-informed who get their ‘facts’ from a ‘tabloid’, Mitchell despised the Irish and (with all the irony lost on him) he accused these ‘foreigners’ of not being ‘good workers’, he blamed them for being both workshy and stealing local’s jobs, even though he himself had travelled from Scotland to take a Londoner’s job, being paid at a lower wage. He was a bigot, but as many of those who knew him would agree, “he was all mouth and no trousers”. The two injured men were Wilfred John Dyer and Harry Jamieson. Born at Hooknorton in Banbury in 1902, Dyer had spent his working life from the age of 13 in manual labour, as a farm hand, a carter, a timber merchant and a builder, until 1933 when he joined Wimpey’s and had been there ever since. As a liked and respected gangmaster, when the windows of his home were blown in by a bomb, with his wife being evacuated, he was permitted to sleep in the office. His roommate in the back office was fellow gangmaster Harry Jamieson. Born in the Scottish town of Laurencekirk in 1908, Jamieson (a son of a gangmaster) had worked from the age of 14, as a baker, an attendant at Fife & Kinross Mental Hospital and the nightshift at Dundee Mental Ward, until in 1937, when he became foreman at Wimpey’s, and he slept onsite as the wartime road repairs kept him busy. None of the three men who were attacked had criminal records, they had no debts, they had known each other for at least three years, and all three were described as “powerfully built” and more than able to defend themselves from an attack… but not if they were attacked while they were asleep. Of the former employees of Wimpey’s who were questioned, Dyer couldn’t recall a single incident or person who would have reason to attack him, Jamieson had a minor falling out with a labourer who had stolen a pick and a shovel, and although there were two recent events where Alfred Mitchell had been accused of short-changing a labourer, police said “it was suspected that one of the men may have killed Alfred Mitchell out of spite, almost all were contacted but without a good result”. Only Alfred didn’t decide the rates of pay, that was his bosses, and just because he was the one who had died of his injuries, that didn’t mean that he was the intended target… but he could have been. Friday the 8th of November 1940 was an ordinary night for the three men. With the skies bruised by dark clouds and the unlit streets like a flat sheet of black ice, the chance of a blitz bombing that night was slim but not unexpected. Having spent the day shuttling their labourers across the West End to fill in bomb craters in the roads, at 6pm, they finished for the day, as per usual. Catching up with gangmaster John Nicoll (whose finger, palm and boot prints didn’t match those found at the crime scene) as Dyer & Jamieson went to the chippy, Nicoll & Mitchell headed to the Maltsman & Shovel public house at 6 King Street in Hammersmith, where the two others would join them. As pub regulars, the landlord described them as “some of my most well-behaved customers”, being good friends “I have never heard them have a disagreement in the year they’ve been coming here and they come in every night”, and drinking “2-3 pints of stout and a double whiskey chaser”, they were merry but not drunk when they left at 10pm, closing time, “having bought three bottles of brown ale”. It was a carbon copy of every night which had proceeded it… …only a hint of political disquiet would creep in. At 10:15pm, at the entrance to the railway arches, Jamieson met two Irish labourers who he knew, being part of his civil defence crew. They were John Crowley (aged 23) & Joseph Molloy (aged 25), and having been to the nearby George pub, the chat was friendly - “hey Jock, how you doing?”, “ah, not so bad, yourself?” – as they spoke about work, life, family and the war. John said “I didn’t know Dyer, but I knew Fred Mitchell who was a pay clerk at Wimpey’s as he has paid me my money each week”. Everything seemed fine, until Mitchell’s anti-Irish bigotry rose to the surface. The Second World War would prove to a decisive moment for Ireland, as with the Irish head of state, Eamon DeValera fighting for independence from Britain, although some advocated for Ireland to fight in the war on the Allied side, others like Eamon stated "England's difficulty is Ireland's opportunity". Britain needed Ireland, but unwilling to give up sovereignty, Ireland had Britain over a barrel. As a Scotsman, Mitchell had no experience of Irish politics except for the toilet bowl of half-truths he had read in his tabloid rag, believing he was reading the truth rather than piece of propaganda by the publishers for financial or political gain, but that didn’t stop him from expressing his ill formed opinion. Everyone from both groups agreed “Mitchell started arguing”. Molloy said “he shouted ‘to blazes with the Irish’ and said we were no good, and why don’t we go back to our own country”, missing the irony. Crowly said “he started talking about the Irish bases. We didn’t have a row and I ignored what he said about us. I told Mitchell I was just as proud of being an Irishman as he was of being a Scotchman”, and there was no pushing and no shoving, it was a one-sided dispute by a bigoted turd with a big mouth. It doesn’t seem like the spark which ignited a murder and two attempted murders. But that was it? Dyer said “the argument was a friendly one”, Molloy said “I didn’t get upset, I could see that he was a bit unhappy, but he wasn’t much drunk, so we bid them all a goodnight”, Nicoll agreed that’s what happened, and Jamieson would state “I could see a fight was brewing so I told them to clear off”. With the tension defused, Crowley & Molloy went back to their lodgings at 170 Hammersmith Grove, as seen by their landlady, the lodgers and they didn’t emerge until 7:30am. And doing the same, Nicoll said goodbye, as Jamieson, Dyer and Mitchell headed back to their camp beds at No 16 Railway Arches. Back at the office, as planned, they changed into pyjamas, they finished their bottles of beer, they had a friendly chat (with no-one upset by the previous political spat) and at 11:15pm, they went to bed. Nobody left during the next five hours, and they snored noisily… …until someone attacked them in their sleep. But if it wasn’t Crowley and Molloy, who was it? From what little Jamieson could remember, he’d state “I was asleep. I heard someone moving. I got up and received a blow on the head”, as the dark shadow in the felt trilby hat whacked him over the head with (possibly) the crowbar. Falling to his knees, “I got up and pushed a man against the partition. The next thing I know he struck me with several blows. I shouted for Dyer to look out”. Or did he? One theory that the police investigated was that this could have been an inside job, that Jamieson and Dyer had attacked themselves to create an alibi, but with nothing stolen, no issue with Mitchell, and no way or time to dispose of the weapon, their injuries were deemed too severe to be self-inflicted. Of the shadowy assailant, Jamieson said “I couldn’t see who it was”, giving no age, height or details of this mysterious attacker, but he did say “his shadow was a similar to the build of the night watchman”. 63-year-old William Sturgeon was the nightwatchman at the Railway Arches. Said to be small and frail, he wasn’t there as security, but to check the offices and keep the boiler fires burning during the night. Friday 8th November was a regular shift for William. Starting at 5:30pm when most of the labourers were going off-duty, in his office at the back of 16 Railway Arches, he put his food away, and locked-up the garage at the far end of the yard. He went to Wimpey’s main office at 27 Hammersmith Grove to secure it, put the lights out, lock the doors, fuel the boiler, “and I returned at 7:15pm to collect my helmet and coat. I heard the voices of Mitchell, Jamieson and Dyer in the adjoining office, I didn’t see them, but I told them to lock up properly to prevent any light leakage. I mentioned this as they had a habit of leaving the office open and the lights on. I returned to the main office and stayed until 10pm”. This is what the nightwatchman told the police; “at about midnight, I checked their office, I couldn’t tell if they were in or not, as the lights were off and the passage door shut but not locked”. And as was his duty “at 2am, I did another round of boiler fires, everything was alright, again the lights were off, and the door was shut. I heard nothing and I didn’t see anyone else in the yard at all that night”. When questioned, William would state “I was on the best of terms with these men”, which they agreed was true “and sometimes they gave me a bottle of beer to drink”. But how truthful was his statement? He claimed “I don’t know if there was any money kept in the offices”, although he knew it was a pay office and that it has a safe within it. When asked to corroborate his movements, Jamieson and Nicoll both said “we did not see or hear the night watchman all night” (not at 7:30pm, not at midnight and not at 2am) and by the time the police had arrived, the nightwatchmen turned up looking shocked, only for Jamieson to ask “where’ve you been?”, at which he replied “over in the shelter, I saw nothing”. Next to Arch 16 was an air-raid shelter, but with no air-raids that night, the shelter should have been empty. Only with Arthur Martin, the transport manager for Wimpey’s sleeping there as he had missed his bus, he didn’t mention seeing or speaking to the nightwatchman, at all that night. William Sturgeon was initially a suspect, but as the police would clarify “without doubt, this old man was asleep during the time of the murder, but this is strongly denied by him for fear of losing his job. He is old, weak and hardly strong enough to have crept in via the window or dealt the blow which killed Mitchell or caused serious wounds to Dyer and Jamieson”, therefore he was released. (End) An inquest was opened on 12th November 1940 at Hammersmith Coroner’s Court before Mr Neville Stafford. It was assumed, but not proven that “the thief would have no necessity to force the office window to gain entry and the marks were made expressly to make the murder appear to the work of an outside thief”. Although which one of the three men were the intended victim couldn’t be decided. Jamieson and Dyer were ruled out as accomplices, as both of their injuries were made while they were “seated or asleep”, based on the timings they had “no opportunity to dispose of the weapon”, and with George Chinnery the air raid warden being injured in a bomb attack a week later, only his initial statement proved viable, as like the two survivors, his memory would prove both hazy and unreliable. When interviewed, the Irish labourers made statements which Jamieson & Dyer corroborated, they admitted to a brief political argument but denied knowledge of the murder, both had alibis for the time of the attack, their lodgings were searched but no weapon was found, and their finger, palm and boot prints did not match any of those found inside the office, or on the desk below the window. On 23rd January 1941 at Hammersmith Coroner’s Court, Margaret Hodges, Alfred Mitchell’s sister was asked “do you know anyone who was likely to do him harm?”, she replied “no”, and with no-one arrested for either crime and nothing having been stolen – not a single penny – a Jury of twelve men recorded a verdict of “murder against person or persons unknown”, and the case was closed. 83 years on, the murder of Alfred Mitchell remains unsolved, with no suspects charged, no evidence pointing to a motive, and with it unclear who the intended victim was. Whether it was a failed robbery, a case of mistaken identity, a personal grudge, or an inside job, the truth may have gone to the graves of all those involved, with the memory of what happened being as hazy as those three dozing sleepers. The Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast has been researched using the original declassified police investigation files, court records, press reports and as many authentic sources as possible, which are freely available in the public domain, including eye-witness testimony, confessions, autopsy reports, first-hand accounts and independent investigation, where possible. But these documents are only as accurate as those recounting them and recording them, and are always incomplete or full of opinion rather than fact, therefore mistakes and misrepresentations can be made. As stated at the beginning of each episode (and as is clear by the way it is presented) Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast is a 'dramatisation' of the events and not a documentary, therefore a certain amount of dramatic licence, selective characterisation and story-telling (within logical reason and based on extensive research) has been taken to create a fuller picture. It is not a full and complete representation of the case, the people or the investigation, and therefore should not be taken as such. It is also often (for the sake of clarity, speed and the drama) presented from a single person's perspective, usually (but not exclusively) the victim's, and therefore it will contain a certain level of bias and opinion to get across this single perspective, which may not be the overall opinion of those involved or associated. Murder Mile is just one possible retelling of each case. Murder Mile does not set out to cause any harm or distress to those involved, and those who listen to the podcast or read the transcripts provided should be aware that by accessing anything created by Murder Mile (or any source related to any each) that they may discover some details about a person, an incident or the police investigation itself, that they were unaware of.
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AuthorMichael J Buchanan-Dunne is a crime writer, podcaster of Murder Mile UK True Crime and creator of true-crime TV series. 
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