Five time nominated BEST BRITISH TRUE-CRIME PODCAST at the True Crime Awards, Independent Podcast Award and The British Podcast Awards, and voted 4th Best True-Crime Podcast by This Week, iTunes Top 25 Podcast, Podcast Magazine's Hot 50, The Telegraph's Top 5, Crime & Investigation Top 20 True-Crime Podcasts, also seen on BBC Radio, Sky News, The Guardian and TalkRadio's Podcast of the Week.
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EPISODE THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN: This is Part One of Two of The un-Holy Trinity.
On Friday 6th of January 1967, 17-year-old Bernard Oliver vanished from Muswell Hill. 10 days later, his body was found 85 miles away in Suffolk. He had been strangled and assaulted, with his body cut into eight pieces. But who had abducted him, and why?
THE LOCATION:
The location is marked with a YELLOW P near the words 'EAST FINCHLEY' - top middle.
SOURCES: a selection sourced from various archives:
MUSIC:
UNEDITED TRANSCRIPT: Why was a boy’s dismembered body split between two suitcases? Find out on Murder Mile. Today I’m standing on Steeds Road in Muswell Hill, N10; six roads east of where Alexander Litvinenko first felt the effects of Polonium 210, four roads north of the happier times of the Mercy Murderess, a short walk from another psych’ ward that the Camden Ripper conned his way out of, and three roads west of the dead pig, the tatty suit and the very romantic couple - coming soon to Murder Mile. Steeds Road is a sweet little residential street made of mostly two-storey late-Victorian to post-World War One featureless council houses with three windows, a thin door, picket fences and small gardens. 10 Steeds Road is no different. It’s the kind of house an old dear whose butt-cheeks could swallow a stool whole may have once lived, as she gossiped over the wall dispensing all her family’s secrets; like her husband’s bum grapes, her daughter’s manky ovaries, or her son-in-law’s persistently limp todger. People spoke so openly, as in their houses, they felt safe. And yet, one topic is still only whispered on this street, and that’s the disappearance of 17-year-old Bernard Oliver back in January 1967. It’s a case so horrific, it shocked a nation, it baffled a police force and it broke a fragmented family forever. Even to this day, 58 years on, his brutal killing remains riddled with more questions than answers. But why? My name is Michael, I am your tour guide, and this is Murder Mile. Episode 317: The (Un)Holy Trinity – Part One. Monday 6th of February 1967, exactly one month after he went missing, a cold wind blew over Islington and St Pancras Cemetery in East Finchley, two streets from his home and the places he used to play. It was silent and still except for a mumbled prayer for his soul, as with heads bowed and all dressed in black, his family surrounded his small grave; his father George, his mother Sheelah and his five siblings; Maureen, Andrew, Philip, Chris and Tony. Marked by a simple wooden cross, it was later replaced by a black marble gravestone chiselled with the words ‘Bernard Michael Oliver, born 1950, died 1967, so sad was the day you were taken from us. You will always be in our hearts forever dearest brother. Always loved. Never Forgotten. R.I.P’, but it wasn’t only this family who were mourning this lost boy. Staring, as his small coffin was lowered into the frosty ground, wasn’t just local mothers who hugged their children tight for fear of what could happen to them, but also more friends than this lonely lad ever had, as everyone came to say heartfelt goodbye to this boy who was kind, innocent and loved. Tony, Bernard’s youngest brother later recalled "there are times, even now, when I can't believe what happened. I think we could have accepted it, if Bernard had been shot or killed in a fight… It's hard to come to terms with. I can't bury it. I don't think I ever go a week without thinking about Bernard", as although no-one said it, they all thought it, as although his body was buried complete, it wasn’t whole. Every death is hard, a child’s death is harder, but never knowing how their child or sibling died or why was harder still, as this indescribable pain broke his family’s hearts forever and plagued their minds. So, who murdered him, and why? Bernard was raised in a solid working-class family as the fourth of six children to George (who worked at a printers) and Sheila (a housewife). His childhood was happy and simple, as living in a small council house at 10 Steeds Road, unlike the inner-city kids, Muswell Hill was a safe place to play where Bernard and his brothers would go scrumping for apples, making dens in the woods, or riding their bicycles. Being barely 17 years old, he was the spit of his father; handsome and striking, with thick lashes over grey-blue eyes, curly brown hair in a wavey crest, and a mottling of distinctive moles on his face and neck, yet being slim and just a dot at 5 feet and 3 inches tall, he was often mistaken for a 12-year-old. Bernard wasn’t the youngest, but all his siblings looked out for him, as being educated at Oak Lodge Special Needs School in East Finchley, Bernard had learning disabilities and he needed more protecting than most. Described as a shy boy who was quiet and gentle, it was also said that he was ‘easily led’. Tony, his brother (4 years his junior) who he shared a bedroom with, later said “he had a great sense of humour. I idolised him in many ways. He could be humorous, but normally kept himself to himself". Defined by his era as ‘slow’ or ‘backwards’, local kids knew him and liked him, but with no best friends or close friends except his brothers and his sister, Bernard was always a bit of a loner. Often seen taking long walks in the woods with his beloved white Poodle called Pepe, Terry his neighbour said “he said he’d like to work on a farm with animals one day”, but as a late bloomer, he also wanted to find romance. And although he claimed Margaret Prescott was his girlfriend, she rarely spoke to him. Aged 15, Bernard left school, and although he still struggled with reading and writing, he got a job as a washer boy at a Wimpy bar fast-food restaurant in Muswell Hill, and in November 1966, 11 weeks before he vanished, he worked as a warehouseman at the plastic bag factory Clear View Transparent Paper Works in Crouch End. Colleagues said “he was happy, friendly, would do anything for anyone”, and although he was said to be friends with several lorry drivers, at lunchtime he always ate by himself. The Christmas of 1966, he spent at home with his family, and it was said to be good but unremarkable. He had no known reason to go missing, but on Friday 6th of January 1967, he vanished without a trace. He wasn’t a drinker, he didn’t do drugs and he wasn’t involved in anything criminal. He wasn’t bullied at work or abused at home, as everybody loved him. He was lonely, often hanging seen around coffee bars and parks in the hope that girls would speak to him, but he was too shy to be a bother to anyone. There was joy in the house as his sister Maureen had a baby, making Bernard a first-time uncle, and although the family was fragmented as his parents had separated one year before after 18 years, neighbours said “he seemed depressed since last summer”, but George & Sheila did their best to keep the family running as smoothly as possible, so all the kids stayed with their father in the family home. He quit his job at the factory just before Christmas, so he had no money. He had no secrets, as his life was simple. He wasn’t gay, as he was interested in girls. He was clearly searching for something, as he had recently visited a spiritualist. And although he’d never gone missing before, just shy of Christmas 1966, Bernard’s father recalled “I had talked him out of leaving home… I said he wasn’t old enough to leave home. He accepted it without argument. No more was said”, but what was his motive to leave? His brother Tony later recalled “It had a massive impact on us. You can’t describe it. Even today it still upsets me. To be honest I don’t think any one of us have properly sat down and spoken and grieved. It split my family apart. It is still really raw after all this time. I just feel like I want to burst out crying”. Bernard vanished, and to this day, no-one knows why. The last day that Bernard was seen alive was Friday 6th of January 1967. It was an ordinary day, there were no issues, dramas or arguments as he left the family home at 10 Steeds Road, kissing goodbye to his dog. He wore a light sports jacket but no hat, gloves or scarf, and with it cold, this suggests he planned to stay inside, and with no bag or suitcase, he hadn’t intended to travel far or stay over night. Leaving, he told one of his brothers, he was going out with some friends to the cinema (either the ABC on Muswell Hill Broadway) or The Odeon (on Fortis Green Road) to watch ‘The Ten Commandments’, the 3 hour 40 minute religious epic starring Charlton Heston, although whether he did is unreported. His last confirmed sighting was in a café on Muswell Hill with his friend, 16-year-old Christine Willars; she recalled “Bernard was quiet all night, but at about 8:30pm, he suddenly said ‘well, I’m going off to see a friend’, he said ‘goodbye’, walked out, I haven’t seen him since’”. She last saw him on Muswell Hill Broadway walking in the bitterly cold drizzle, and thought that he was heading home, but he didn’t. There are no confirmed sightings of Bernard after that, no reports of an abduction, and with only a few small abrasions to his body, it’s unlikely that he was kidnapped, but – being ‘easily led’ – did he believe his dreams had been answered by a kindly stranger, when all he would find was a nightmare? By midnight, “we were worried”, so his father and his older brother Andrew checked the cinema (this was shut), the Wimpy bar (but they hadn’t seen him) and stayed up all night searching the streets as this was unusual for him. Andrew said “we didn’t think he’d run away from home, because he was so possessive”, but still missing by morning, they had Police place him on the Missing Person’s Register. He left behind everything he owned, loved or trusted… …and had little knowledge of the wider world beyond. From his last sighting at 8:30pm on Saturday the 7th to when his body was found at 9:20am on Monday the 16th January, there were many so-called sightings of Bernard in Muswell Hill and Soho, but as no-one really knew this quiet lonely boy who looked younger than 17, it’s hard to say if they’re even true. Detectives know that he travelled 80+ miles east to Ipswich in East Anglia, “possibly in search of farm work as he loved animals, but a check with the Farmer’s Union, who often found jobs for boys drew a blank”, as did the manifests for every coach service out of London, every truck driver who regularly drove that route along the A12, and every transport café he may have stopped at to hitch a lift. Given what had happened to him, Police searched every beach hut in the eastern seaside resorts of Felixstowe, Clacton, and Walton-on-the-Naze for signs of assault or indecency, but nothing was found. In fact, an abduction seemed unlikely, as when Bernard’s body was found, although his sports jacket was bloodstained, it wasn’t dirty like he’d been living rough. The nights were bitterly cold and wet, yet his skin was barely blemished. In his stomach, a partially digested meal was found, even though he’d left 8 days prior with enough money for coffee and a cinema ticket. And yet, most bafflingly, whoever looked after him, hadn’t notified the police, but they had given him a wash, a haircut and a manicure. But why? Why treat Bernard so well, only to then strangle him? Pathologist Dr Alfred Lintott confirmed that Bernard was murdered about 48 hours before his body was found, sometime on Saturday 14th of January, a week after he’d gone missing from Muswell Hill. As for where he died, detectives were hindered by the fact no murder site was found, but it’s likely he was alive when he left London, as no-one would risk transporting a dead body too far and risking their apprehension. Tony said “I’m sure that somebody knows. But it won’t make a difference. It won’t bring him back, nothing can. That is just the way I feel”, as 58-years-on, that vital clue has been lost forever. Likely to be on Saturday 14th of January 1967 in an undisclosed building somewhere in Ipswich, 17-year-old Bernard Oliver was murdered, having been fed, and given a recent haircut and manicure, and yet, it was clear that before his killing, Bernard had bitten his nails. But was he excited, upset or afraid? At some point, we know this young boy either undressed or was made to strip naked, as although only his sports jacket was found, it wasn’t torn or ripped. And with no marks on his wrists or ankles, we know he wasn’t restrained, but was he paid to strip, duped by an adult, or was he too terrified to flee? Why he was killed is uncertain, but in his last hour alive, he received two small lacerations to the back of his head and a few bruises to his body, as Police believe – that naked, cold and afraid – “he put up a vain fight for his life”, but before he was strangled to death, that same man or men had raped him. Tony recalled "I can't believe what happened. I think we could have accepted it if Bernard had been shot or killed in a fight. But the way his body was dissected, in such a clinical way, was spine chilling". Likely, Bernard was raped, murdered and his body dismembered in the same building, maybe a farm, a warehouse, a basement or a crypt, somewhere isolated, where his screams would never be heard. A clinical forensic psychologist (unconnected to the case) later stated that the killer was likely a mature person, possibly 30s or 40s, as their method of disposal suggested "criminal sophistication", and a consultant surgeon at Ipswich and East Suffolk Hospital said at the time “it was most likely committed by someone with a knowledge of anatomy, with previous experience of dismemberment”, maybe a doctor, surgeon or butcher, “as (it had been) expertly accomplished with the exception of one joint”. The body had been dissected with precision into eight pieces – a head, a torso, two arms, two thighs and two lower legs – and neatly packed in two suitcases, but “one would expect the person dissecting, irrespective of how calm he may be, to show some sign of nerves, anxiety or excitement towards the end. This could well be the reason for the bad workmanship on the left knee joint”. And we know his body hadn’t been stolen from a hospital or a mortuary, as none of the limbs had any surgical flaps. Detectives and psychologists agreed it was likely that Bernard was murdered and dissected within a short radius of just 4 or 5 miles of where his body was found, so Ipswich seemed possible, but where? In 2011, when this cold case was re-opened for the fifth time, a new witness came forward. Back in January 1967, on an undetermined week-night just before Bernard’s body was found, teenager Robert Thurston was pushing a scooter up Key Street by Ipswich docks, it was between 1am and 2am. As he and his friend approached ‘R & W Paul’, a large historic dockside warehouse on Salthouse Street, “as we came around the corner we heard a bang… there were a pair of main gates and a courtyard. We were right outside the gate and looked through the iron railings” past this unlit warehouse, which wasn’t open at this time of night, and shouldn’t have been occupied, except by a lone nightwatchman. “We stopped and looked around to see who was there. There were two suitcases which sat to the left-hand side of the archway and we thought ‘why would there be two suitcases standing there?’”. Robert couldn’t describe them owing to the distance and because it was dark, but they were medium sized. “A guy walked from the right, his forearms to his chest with his hands in the air. He had pink gloves on. I recognised them…”, they were surgical gloves, “as it wasn’t long after my appendix operation. (He) was frightening. He had a really long drawn face, he was well-dressed with a long black mac, dark trousers and polished shoes. We ran, bump-started the bike and fled. I can still see that drawn face”. Robert said he approached the Police ten years after Bernard’s murder, but didn’t make a statement, as he “wasn’t taken seriously”. But was this Bernard’s killer or an innocent man? Did Robert fabricate an unprovable story for attention? Or being 45 years after the killing and with memory only being 30% accurate immediately after an event, was it the truth, a lie, or a reality peppered with false memories? It seems plausible, but did those suitcases contain Bernard’s body? Monday 16th of January 1967 was a bitter winter’s day, the ground was hard and frosty, which may be why his body wasn’t buried. Dawn had broken at 7:17am, and at the north-easterly edge of Folly Farm in the remote village of Tattingstone in Suffolk, 43-year-old farmer Fred Burggy was ploughing a field when he spotted two suitcases hidden in a hedge of bracken. Feet from the crossroads of Station Road, Church Road and the A137 to Ipswich, Fred said “we get a lot of rubbish dumped here, so I didn’t take interest at first. Then I got off my tractor… opened one of the cases and that was enough for me”. He called the Police at 9:20am and spoke to Detective Chief Superintendent Tarling of East Suffolk CID. The investigation was led by DCS Tom Tarling, but given the seriousness of the case, it was escalated to the Metropolitan Police’s Murder Squad and taken over by Detective Superintendent Harry Tappin. 27 officers sealed off the area, sniffer dogs searched the bushes, lines of constables scoured the fields, on the crossroads a road-block had every motorist questioned, and working day and night, they rigged up generators to power floodlights to illuminate the scene, as there were no streetlights for miles. Fred Burggy hadn’t seen the suitcases when he ploughed that field two days before, and being close to the road but far from a bus or train, the Police had a likely window of when it was dumped by car. Across those two key nights, witnesses spotted two vehicles parked near the hedge, a blue Commer campervan on Saturday the 14th, and a light-coloured Ford Anglia on Sunday the 15th, and although 390 possible matches were found, every car was checked, but every statement proved to be fruitless. Psychologists believed the killer was local “as people are rarely random often guided by a mental map” of places they know and trust. They believed the plan was to dissect the body and bury the suitcases in separate sites to make Bernard harder to identify – hence his wallet, clothes and any ID was missing – but that the cases had been carelessly dumped together, as maybe he’d been spotted or got scared? As it was, it was impossible to identify Bernard, as he had no dental records, no fingerprints on file, and the Missing Person’s Register wasn’t held nationally. They thought he was possibly local, but with dark hair and olive-skin colouring, stated “he may be foreign, possibly Latin American or Continental”, and being slim, a late bloomer and just 5 foot 3, as many people did, they thought he was 12, not 17. Protected from frost, the sub-zero temperatures and the suitcases had preserved his body remarkably well, but although his description was issued, including those of his moles, no-one recognised him. As for the suitcases, neither belonged to Bernard, but they did contain several possible leads to his killer. Suitcase 1 containing the torso and head was 24 inches by 14 by 7 ½ inches, made of cardboard and covered in a dark green canvas with reinforced steel corners and a brown metal handle. On the front was a golden lion above the word Monarch, and to the left in black ink was scrawled the initials - P.V.A. 840 people in the UK were found to have those initials, everyone of them was checked and cleared. Attached was also an old war-time label for the Union Castle steamship called ‘Clan’, and with a letter ‘R’ written on it, likely the first initial of a passenger’s surname, Police checked the war-time manifests to uncover who this case may have belonged to, they found 190 names, and again, all were cleared. Suitcase 2 containing the limbs was 26 inches by 16 by 8, made of light cream cardboard. In 1977, 10 years later, a private investigator claimed she recognised the suitcase as belonging to three men who used a laundrette in Muswell Hill. Police investigated, she provided an artist’s impression of the man, but was this his killer, was this the Ipswich ‘suitcase man’, or had her memory been clouded by time? Police were dubious, as with a level of “criminal sophistication” had the killer made mistakes, or were these ‘red herrings’, as why would they remove the victim’s ID, yet leave a clue so glaring as initials? The only clothing, Bernard’s sports jacket was found neatly folded or rolled in the case. It was heavily-stained with his blood, in a pocket was a tatty receipt for a cheap necklace bought in Muswell Hill (which hadn’t been bought by him), as well as a matchbox of a brand marketed in Israel, even though Bernard had never been abroad, and as far as we know, he did not smoke. In the other suitcase was a striped hand-towel with the laundry mark ‘QL 42’, and although every laundrette, hotel or hospital who used a Mark IIB Polymark machine to make this unique code was checked, again, it drew a blank. The evidence was slim, and although it was circulated in the press, again drawing a blank… …the Detectives had to take an unusual step to identify the boy, and hopefully his killer Artist’s impressions are rarely accurate, so with him in immaculate condition five days after his death, a Co-op funeral director was asked to ‘dress’, prop-up and photograph Bernard’s decapitated head, and it was circulated in the press. On Thursday 19th of January at 7:10pm, while waiting for a bus to Muswell Hill, Chris, Bernard’s 15-year-old brother saw it in the London Evening Standard. "My mate said 'Chrissy, that's your brother, isn't it?'. I looked and I knew straight away. I hadn't read the story, just the picture, it read 'SUITCASE MURDER', and that's all I could see because nothing else registered". Bernard’s dad had to formerly identify the dismembered parts of his son’s body at Ipswich mortuary. Chris recalled "it was devastating to my whole family". Tony said “when his body was found I was just hollow, I just kept asking myself: 'why?’”. Still being so young when Bernard was found, “my parents didn't go into graphic detail, we never spoke about it… I think it changed all of us in different ways". Tony, the youngest took it worst, Chris said, but really “none of us spoke to each other about it because we were so hurt”, and as for his parents, “it devastated my mother and father. She felt guilty because she left the matrimonial home. All through my life, she cried, and felt really guilty even up until the day she died”. They had to deal with the loss, the pain, the never-knowing, and – as potential suspects – they had to cope with this, all while being questioned and having their home and car searched. Monday 6th of February 1967, exactly one month after he went missing, a cold wind blew over Islington and St Pancras Cemetery in East Finchley, two streets from Bernard’s home, the places that he played, and the street where he was last seen alive. Unlike so many grief-stricken parents whose son had gone missing that year, his body had been found and buried, but it didn’t take away the pain. It couldn’t. George died in February 1987 aged 73, and Sheelah in February 1996 aged 74, but neither found the piece and conclusion they deserved, as their son’s killer or killers were never brought to justice. And as Chris said, "it was terrible for my parents to go to their graves without knowing what happened to Bernard, I still believe somebody who knows what happened is still alive. I've never given up hope". But as we’ve seen, as time passes, witnesses die, evidence corrodes, places are demolished, and even when new sightings are reported, it’s hard to know if they’re the truth, a lie, an alibi, or peppered with news fragments which coincidentally fit the narrative or false memories fuelled by good intentions? 58 years after the murder of Bernard Oliver, this cold case grows increasingly harder to resolve, and although some say that time heals, for his family, the hurt only gets duller, and can never be erased. But then, maybe every speck of evidence isn’t irrelevant but is a step closer to the identity of his killer or killers, and maybe every red herring is actually a hint, as when each detail – no matter how small or spurious - is pieced together, they do link to very credible sighting of a suspect known only as ‘The Trilby Man’, and to a much darker, more sinister and truly sordid scandal, that of The Holy Trinity. The Part Two of ‘The un-Holy Trinity’ concludes next week. 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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