Nominated BEST BRITISH TRUE-CRIME PODCAST, triple nominated at the True Crime Awards, 4th Best True-Crime Podcast by This Week, iTunes Top 25 Podcast, Podcast Magazine's Hot 50, The Telegraph's Top 5, Crime & Investigation Channel's Top 20 True-Crime Podcasts, also seen on BBC Radio, Sky News, The Guardian and TalkRadio's Podcast of the Week.
EPISODE TWO HUNDRED AND NINETY-ONE:
On Saturday 25th of May 1963 at 12:20am, four men were ejected from The Establishment Club on Greek Street in Soho. They left without a struggle, with no blood spilled, no damage done and nobody hurt. And yet, with accusations of corruption, violence and an attempted murder in its wake, it sparked a criminal trial and an inquiry which almost brought down the Metropolitan Police, courtesy of one of West End Central’s most corrupt officers – Detective Sergeant Harold ‘Tanky’ Challoner.
THE LOCATION:
The location is marked with a orange symbol of a 'P' just under the words Soho'. To use the map, click it. If you want to see the other maps, click here.
SOURCES: a selection sourced from various sources
MUSIC:
UNEDITED TRANSCRIPT: Welcome to Murder Mile. Today, I’m standing on Greek Street in Soho, W1; one street north of Edith McQuaid and the Black Cap Farce, a few doors up from Raphael Ciclino and the Good Samaritan, a few doors down Eliza Crees’ Honeymoon from Hell, and a short walk from old Elsie’s black hole - coming soon to Murder Mile. At 18 Greek Street now stands Soho Zabrano, a cocktail bar cum nightclub cum restaurant but back in 1963, this was The Establishment, an infamous comedy and jazz club co-founded by satirist Peter Cook where anarchic comedy acts like Lenny Bruce, Pete & Dud and Frankie Howerd regularly performed, but although legendary, it lasted just 3 years, closing down in 1964 just one year after this minor fracas. Unrelated to its demise, on Saturday 25th of May 1963 at 12:20am, four men were ejected from this private member’s club by the Police. They left without a struggle, with no blood spilled, no damage done and nobody hurt. And yet, with accusations of corruption, violence and an attempted murder in its wake, it sparked a criminal trial and an inquiry which almost brought down the Metropolitan Police. My name is Michael, I am your tour guide, and this is Murder Mile. Episode 291: The Scourge of Soho. ‘Pinky’ was a terrifying thug. That was the reputation which proceeded him; his face was known, his anger was feared and when he walked, he loomed large like a sculking shadow of death. Standing six feet and six inches high, and weighing 20 stone, as a flame-haired hulk of solid muscle, his fists were heavy and his temper quick. As a persistent criminal, his arrest record was lengthy; July 1953 he was convicted of theft; December 1953 of garage-breaking and going equipped; August 1955 of car theft, burglary and shop-breaking; and in July 1956 of car theft, burglary, grievous bodily harm and possession of an offensive weapon. Sentenced to just seven months, he swiftly rose up the ranks of the felons the coppers wanted to stop. In 1957, barely out of prison, Ernest George Pink aka Pinky and his partner Charles Parson bludgeoned two men, stealing £24000 (£760,000 today). Inflicting what was described as ‘brutal violence’, Parsons was sent to prison for seven years, whereas ‘Pinky’ was acquitted, as – being savvy about police’s forensic techniques - the detectives couldn’t prove if he’d touched the money, or even spent a penny. Again, having slipped the detective’s grasp by being collared for just the lesser crimes, it was like he was laughing at them as he was sentenced to 12 months in 1958 for shop-breaking, but barely served half and (embarrassingly of all) the best they could pin on him in 1960 was being drunk and disorderly. He was strong and sharp to the police’s practices, yet his reputation as an aggressive scourge wasn’t entirely down to his size and anger, as a childhood disability had made him ogrish to the uneducated. As one of nine children, like both brothers and three of his sisters, ‘Pinky’ was born deaf from birth, and although he attended the St John's Institute for the Deaf up to age 16, having never been able to hear how a syllable should sound, his mouth could only make unintelligible grunts and mumbles. Trapped in a world where he could hear nothing and could speak to no-one except in sign language, even with his wife (Mary), he said “I feel isolated, people think I’m mental”, and with his height causing him varicose veins, the only legitimate work he could do was as a doorman at several Soho nightclubs. ‘Pinky’ was a thug who terrorised the West End, and although misunderstood… …he wasn’t the Scourge of Soho. Friday 24th of May 1963 was a typical night out as ‘Pinky’ headed out to the Rehearsal Club in Leicester Square with his pal Robert Brown, a completely deaf scrap-dealer from Chiswick who being able to talk often acted as Pinky’s interpreter. Accompanied by Robert’s wife, they met two men who they barely knew but liked; William Francis an electrician, Frederick Bridgeman a window cleaner, and unlike Pinky, the worst any of them had been convicted of was bad driving and stealing a pair of socks. At 11:30pm, the Rehearsal Club closed, and wanting another drink and a dance, Pinky signed that he knew a place - The Establishment on Greek Street. And that was the decision which sealed their fate. The night was tinged with an odd tension as although revellers staggered through Soho, a swarm of riot vans lined the streets as 80 police officers with truncheons awaited a drugs raid at the Roaring Twenties club on Carnaby Street, and detectives eagerly perched at West End Central police station. Their reputation was worse than any criminal, as although accusations of brutality and bribery (being just four years after Gunther Podola’s beating) had led to a public inquiry, the Met’ Police Chief would state “the CID was the most routinely corrupt organisation in London”, and acting like the Mafia, by the 1960s, most bank robberies didn’t take place without the CID giving it the nod and taking a cut. At 12:15am, Pinky, Robert, William, Frederick and Mrs Brown arrived at The Establishment Club, but what witnesses claim happened was coloured by Pinky’s colossal size, aggression and bad reputation. The five of them confirmed that, although they weren’t members, as Pinky had been there before, he signed the guest book and the doorman let them in, no hassle or issue. But later, when questioned, the doorman said that Pinky had threatened him stating “I knew Pinky, he was a bit mad and capable of tearing me to pieces… he’d caused trouble in here before”, with the receptionist also bafflingly stating “one or two of the party had their hands in their pockets… and might be carrying weapons”. They weren’t, and why would they? But then part of Pinky’s reputation wasn’t what he did, but what others who didn’t know him feared he might do, and yet, to his friends, “he was a good bloke”. As they entered the downstairs Theatre Bar, witnesses would later state “dancing stopped and people started leaving”, failing to mention that a jazz quintet had finished their set. Mrs Brown ordered a few drinks, but as the barman (who had convictions for theft) overcharged them, seeing this, Pinky signed “you’ve fiddled us”, but all the barman saw was a giant angry man growling, his hands furiously waving like Bruce Lee’s fists, and as he pushed the bar’s panic button, the night manager called the police. Patched straight through to West End Central, as the CID knew Pinky and that he was “violent and dangerous”, although they were awaiting a drugs raid, they diverted a squad of officers to arrest him. For five minutes, the party of five sat quietly chatting in the half empty bar, they bothered no-one and thought the issue with being overcharged for the drinks was resolved, but all that was about to change. At 12:20am, needing the loo, Pinky & Robert headed upstairs. Half way up, the doorman pointed to them, and being surrounded by eight men in suits, even though Pinky knew who the lead one was, he showed him his warrant card – Detective Sergeant Harold Challoner known as ‘Tanky’, a short and stocky detective who had described crime-fighting in London as "swimming against a tide of sewage". The Police claimed they “struggled violently”, the men denied this saying they were “cooperative and quiet”. One officer said “Pinky made a throat cutting gesture with his left hand, and kept his right in his pocket”, as behind him an unidentified voice supposedly shouted “look out, they’re tooled up”. Bundled into the backseat of the CID’s Hillman Minx, Pinky wasn’t handcuffed, arrested or searched, and believing this was just a minor mistake, he sat quietly and said he was treated “quite pleasantly” describing their behaviour as ‘larking about’ and that Detective Sergeant Challenor was ‘very friendly’. Robert, William & Frederick all said similar… …only they couldn’t see that the con was on. At 12:30am, all four were escorted into West End Central police station on Savile Row. With the Male Charge Room on the ground floor supposedly busy due to one drunk causing a minor nuisance, they were processed in the quiet of the Female Charge Room on the first floor, and having been arrested many times before, Pinky knew the process and shook hands with DS Harrison, the Duty Officer. For him, he knew the Police were just intimidating him, making it clear to this known felon who they were desperate to arrest that they were the boss, but having done nothing illegal – they weren’t drunk, rude or disruptive, they hadn’t even got a speeding ticket - Pinky knew he’d be out within the hour. Handing over his ID, Pinky was playing the game, but as the Duty Officer asked “what’s he charged with?”, DS Challoner shoved him aside, and from Pinky’s pocket, he pulled a deadly cutthroat razor. Aghast, to the detectives who didn’t know sign language and couldn’t understand his words, his pleas fell on deaf ears, as they all laughed as the giant mute was led to the cells, unable to argue his case. Before the door slammed shut, he signed to Robert “they put knife in pocket”, but it was too late; in Robert’s pocket they found a dagger with a badly bent blade, in Frederick’s a brown-handled knife with a serrated edge, and when the Duty Officer asked William “you ever been in trouble before?”, replying “no”, DS Challoner smirked “well, you have now”, as with all the officers laughing, Detective Constable Smith returned from a side room with a crude butcher’s cleaver bound with electrical tape. Charged with ‘possession of an offensive weapon’, a crime carrying at least two years in prison, but with DS Challoner also claiming they were “part of a protection racket”, he strode about the charge room gleefully rubbing his hands saying “lovely, lovely, lovely”, knowing it was their word against his. In the car, Robert was punched in the face, only that didn’t appear in the officer’s statements. In the charge room, William was beaten up and had his money stolen, that also wasn’t mentioned. Robert, William and Frederick apparently blamed the whole thing on Pinky claiming “Pinky got me into this”, “he’s the brains” and “I should have known better than to do this with Pinky” which they all denied. And when asked to sign a list of their personal property (wallets, combs, cigarettes, etc), hidden among this mess of everyday items we all carry was the ‘knife’ that each man was charged with possessing. They saw this, they refused to sign it, they kept their hands in their pockets when asked to examine the knife, and although each man – being denied access to a solicitor, and a deaf interpreter for the first two hours - asked for their fingerprints to be taken to prove their innocence, although this was a standard part of processing a prisoner, the Police didn’t, and the men weren’t charged until 5:30am. Being bailed, DS Challoner boasted “I’ll let you walk for £150, the whole matter could be squared for a ton and a half”. But knowing that the four men were screwed, that the evidence was against them, and that any talk of false arrest, assault, theft, extortion and knives being ‘planted’ on them by the officers wouldn’t be believed, even William’s solicitor suggested they admit the knives were theirs. On the 23rd of July 1963, at The Old Bailey, Judge Dodson summed up “there is no evidence that Challenor instructed evidence to be planted… borne on what can only be termed as ridiculous”. Found guilty, Robert, William & Frederick were all sentenced to 12 months, with Pinky to two years. The trial was a joke, none of the men were believed, and they couldn’t fight against it… …as DS Challoner was not only a respected detective, but a decorated war hero. Enlisting in 1942 aged 20, Harold Gordon Challoner served in Egypt and Italy under No62 Commando, a highly trained tactical raiding force tasked with blowing up German targets under the command of Churchill’s Special Operations Executive, and later as a Lance-Corporal in the infamous and secretive SAS, ‘Tanky’ described himself as "the most aggressive medical orderly the Commandos ever had". Awarded the Military Medal, his citation states that as part of Operation Speedwell “L/Cpl. Challenor was dropped by parachute north of Spezia in Italy on 7th of September 1943”, and as a team of six, he destroyed train tracks and “derailed two trains… with a third south of Villafranca”, and although captured behind enemy lines, he “succeeded in escaping twice from Aquila Camp…”. As one of only two members of 2 SAS (C Squadron) to survive, “he displayed the highest courage and determination”. Promoted to Quartermaster Sergeant, ‘Tanky’ Challoner was a fearless soldier who some said “showed a propensity for violence towards his captive Gestapo prisoners”, even boasting in his autobiography “one of them made the mistake of smiling at me. The gaze I returned had him backing away. Then I took them out one by one, and exercised them with some stiff fisticuffs". Said to be displaying “signs of delusion”, his service ended with honours in 1947, and four years later, he joined the Met’ Police. In his memoirs, ‘Tanky Challenor: SAS and the Met’, he bragged that even as a Constable in Mitcham, “I knew I was always going to be a maverick”, as instead of booking a suspect, he would freely give them a good kicking when it suited him stating “I knew where my duty lay, but I ignored the rule book”. Joining the CID, he became a detective constable in 1956, a Detective Sergeant in 1960, and assigned to West End Central in 1962, he amassed a whopping 100 arrests in just seven months, and in his first weeks, he had smashed a ‘protection gang’ who were extorting money from strip clubs. The criminals claimed they were ‘framed’, ‘beaten up’ and had ‘weapons planted’ on them, but with this efficient but aggressive bully boy’s record totalling 600 arrests and receiving 18 commendations, DS Challenor was the self-appointed ‘Scourge of Soho’, and getting serious results, that’s what his superiors wanted. By the 1960s, DS Challoner was unstoppable, criminals were fleeing and there was no-one he couldn’t or wouldn’t fit up for a crime if he felt they deserved it. Ernest Pink alias ‘Pinky’ was high up his list… …only this wasn’t because Pinky was a felon the cops had failed to stop, this was personal. Friday 27th of July 1962 at 11:30pm, 10 months prior to his arrest, Pinky stood outside of The Contessa Club at 12 Archer Street in Soho, a cabaret club where Pinky had been banned for being drunk and violent. Again what witnesses claim happened was coloured by Pinky’s size, aggression and reputation. Turker Vehibi, the doorman stated “I saw Pinky, who I knew, speaking in sign language to a man on the pavement, he was making a sign running his fingers down his cheeks”, and it was no coincidence that the club’s manager, Michael Connor, who had barred Pinky, had scars down both of his cheeks. A few minutes later, with the club about to open as a crowd of 30 people queued up outside, Michael Connor entered the hallway, and it was then that a shot rang out. (Bang) Screaming in panic, the crowd fled, so not one of them could provide a statement as to the description of the gun or the shooter. When questioned, Pinky admitted he was at the club but “someone fired the gun, I was frightened and ran away”. The cloakroom attendant heard the shot, then claimed “I saw Pinky holding the gun”. The doorman stated from 12 feet away “I saw Pinky fire it with his right hand, and ran”. But with the .45 calibre bullet whistling past the manager’s head and embedding in a door, he didn’t see who tried to kill him, in fact, because of the noise from the band starting up, he didn’t know he’d been shot at. A mangled bullet and spent casing was found, police patrols scoured Soho looking for (radio) “a male, 6 foot 6, red hair, deaf and mute, goes by the name of Pinky”, and finding him asleep in bed at 1:15am, Detective Sergeant Ronald Taylor wrote on a piece of paper ‘firearm?’, but Pinky shook his head. They could have searched his flat, but they didn’t, and they should have searched his pockets, but didn’t. Driven in a Hillman Minx to West End Central for an ID parade, as an experienced felon, Pinky refused to give them his house keys for a search unless he was present, stating “what if someone try to frame me?”, and as he hadn’t been charged, he knew “you can’t search me, and you can’t bring me to a cell”. On Saturday 28th of July at 5:05am, bafflingly he was charged with ‘possession of an offensive weapon’ even though a search found nothing in his flat or his pockets, ‘shooting with intent to cause GBH’ even though only one of more than thirty-plus witnesses said they saw him fire the missing gun, as well as the ‘attempted murder of Michael Connor’, even though there was no proof that this was his motive. Tried at the Old Bailey on the 11th of September 1962, Pinky pleaded ‘not guilty’, and with his defence being to call no witnesses or give any evidence, he risked serving at least ten years in prison. But with the Police’s evidence being flimsy and their golden reputation in tatters as case after case collapsed in the years prior owing to their abuse and corruption, Pinky was found guilty of the lesser charge of ‘possession of an offensive weapon’, and acquitted of ‘intent to cause GBH’ and ‘attempted murder’. Once again, CID had let this deaf mute thug who hadn’t put up any defence evade the justice they felt he deserved, and sentenced to one year in prison, he left HMP Wandsworth after only nine months. The CID was a laughing stock, and although DS Challoner, the Scourge of Soho wasn’t directly involved in this case, he made it his mission to punish Pinky who had made such a mockery of the detectives. Released on 26th of April 1963 and being ‘bound over’ for two years, meaning if he was convicted again of ‘possessing an offensive weapon’ that the full weight of the law would be thrown at him, the day they went to The Establishment, he only met Robert to thank him for helping him get an honest job, and Frederick met William just to get a quote for some electrical work on a flat. It was all very innocent. Frederick & William were innocent bystanders in the CID’s plan to punish Pinky, but as four men sat together is technically ‘a conspiracy’, with a few fabricated statements and a battered set of knives taken from the evidence room, they could charge their No1 felon with ‘running a protection racket’. Knowing the system, Pinky filed a complaint that evidence had been ‘planted’ in his pocket… …but although it was impossible to make this accusation stick, it was DS Challoner who came unstuck. Five days before the trial, on the 11th of June 1963, The Queen was hosting the state visit of the King and Queen of Greece, a fascist-leaning country which had become a police state. With protests across London, 100s of cops and CID were protecting Claridge's Hotel which was on West End Central’s patch. Seeing a banner which read 'Lambrakis R.I.P', a harmless tribute to peace activist Grigoris Lambrakis who had been assassinated two weeks before, loving this chance to be a bully boy without reproach, DS Challoner confiscated the banner, gave the protestor a thump across the ear and barked "you're fucking nicked, my old beauty", as several other protesters were bundled into the back of a police van. Driving to Savile Row, Challoner joked to an officer, "aven't you got yourself a prisoner yet? Cor, you’re slow?”, as entering the darkness of West End Central, Challoner clouted the protestor again shouting "gerrup them stairs", and knocked him for six, laughing "there you go my old darling, 'ave that on me”. And as the first of four protestors were processed, Challoner pulled from his own pocket half a brick wrapped in newspaper and bragged “there, carrying an offensive weapon. You can get two years for that". He then repeated the same words and the same evidence to the other dumbfounded prisoners (two of whom it was proven had nothing to do with the protest and were merely passing by), and – as was his MO – on the ‘personal property’ list for them to sign, he’d scrawled the words ‘piece of brick’. Although entirely innocent, each man was as good as guilty having been framed by a bully boy… …only, this wasn’t any demonstrator. This was Donald Rooum, a member of the National Council for Civil Liberties, a group whose investigation into police brutality after Gunther Podola’s beating had led to a public inquest; he was wise to CID’s methods, he was savvy to their corruption, and with two forensic scientists proving that neither man had any brick dust upon them, and – although strangers – those two half pieces of brick had miraculously come from the same brick, the protestors were acquitted, and DS Challoner and his three corrupt cohorts (Battes, Goldsmith & Oakley) were arrested. Charged with ‘conspiracy to pervert the course of justice’, making unlawful arrests, false statements and fabricating evidence, all four officers were tried at the Old Bailey in June 1964. Found guilty, David Oakley, Frank Battes and Keith Goldsmith were sentenced to three years in prison but with DS Challoner unfit to plead being diagnosed with schizophrenia, he was sent to a psychiatric hospital. Said to have been caused by post-traumatic stress disorder (or ‘battle fatigue’ as it was called) due to his war work with the SAS, his sickness had reached its peak by the summer of 1963 when he arrested Pinky at The Establishment, but his seniors failed to remove him from duty as he was getting results. Due to Challoner’s mental illness, Robert Brown, William Francis, Frederick Bridgeman and Ernest Pink were all acquitted of being in ‘possession of an offensive weapon’, and described as a miscarriage of justice, their convictions were quashed and they were given compensation of between £250 to £750. An internal investigation by the Met’ Police and a public inquiry looked into the allegations of ‘planting evidence’ against Detective Sergeants Challoner and Etheridge, Detective Constables Robb, Smith and Robinson, alongside PCs Birch, Jenkins and Tweedy but with no evidence found, the case was dropped. Removed from duty, Harold Challoner didn’t serve any prison time, upon release from hospital, he worked for a firm of solicitors, and in 1990, he released his memoirs, ‘Tanky Challenor: SAS and the Met’, a boastful account of his life which was mysteriously vague about his brutality and criminality. He died in August 2008, aged 86, with Ernest Pink passing in June 1985, aged 54 years old. There was no denying that Pinky & DS Challoner were bad men who broke the law for their own gain, they were selfish, nasty and habitual criminals in their own corrupt way, but they didn’t do this alone, as the real bad guy was the system itself and those who abused it; every detective, every Constable, every solicitor and every witness who let this corruption happen, they were the true Scourges of Soho. 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.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorMichael J Buchanan-Dunne is a crime writer, podcaster of Murder Mile UK True Crime and creator of true-crime TV series. 
Archives
April 2025
Subscribe to the Murder Mile true-crime podcast
Categories
All
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.
|
