Foul Deeds in Richmond and Kingston Read online

  It is unlikely that Constance knew much about her new young man. If she had, she might have been a little less enthusiastic about him. Not that Sydney Bernard Goulter, to give him his full name, was all bad. He came from a reasonably respectable background. Born on 18 September 1902, he was one of six children and his father was a police inspector, based at Kingston and residing at Bockhampton Road from 1915–40. Some of his employers spoke highly of him. When he worked at The Blue Anchor, Weybridge, as a barman, in 1921, it was said he was ‘a hard working and intelligent lad’. Another employer said he was ‘willing and intelligent’ and another thought he was a good worker when he was actually at work.

  Bockhampton Road, 2009. The Author

  Yet his life since leaving school aged fifteen was generally a troubled one. He had had a number of jobs, none of which lasted very long. These included, not only bar work in 1921, but also as an engineer at the Battersea Borough Electricity wiring and meter department (1919-20), at A C Cars Ltd, at Thames Ditton (1922-23) and in the Royal Engineers (1924–25). In August 1927, he bought a coffee stall franchise in Falcon Grove, for 10s a week, from Eleanor Lewois, of Parkham Street, Battersea, as said, though this didn’t last long; and on 21 September he had given it up. One of his problems was that he was a very bad time keeper – frequently late or not turning up at all – and sometimes just walked out of jobs without giving any notice. Whilst in the Army, he annoyed his superiors by telling lies, being improperly dressed, disobeying orders, being absent without leave and other irregular conduct.

  Richmond Park. Author’s collection

  But it was not only his work pattern which was worrying. He was also a petty criminal with a number of convictions. In 1924, he was charged with impersonating a police officer and thus obtaining money from the public under false pretences, at Effingham. He was bound over for twelve months. In the following year, he committed a burglary at Gillingham and stole goods worth £14 17s. However, he was an incompetent burglar and left his army uniform behind in the house in Arden Street, which he had robbed. On another occasion, he stole a bicycle. He was given a two-month gaol sentence with hard labour in 1926, as well as being drummed out of the Army. It was not just crime that he was found guilty of; he was also served with a bastardy order, in January 1925, accused of making Miss Doris Halford of Deacon Road, Kingston, pregnant.

  There were also problems at home. His mother, Sarah, said, in 1927, ‘For the past five or six years he has been a source of trouble.’ His father (by now retired from the police force) noted, ‘For some time past I have had doubts as to the mental stability of my son, Sydney. He has seemed peculiar to me and seemed to have a generally morbid mind.’ At one time, he took his youngest daughter to school himself, fearing she might be at risk from his son. His eldest daughter refused to go with Goulter to the Hippodrome on one occasion, to his great anger. In August 1927, he left home, living in lodging houses (in September 1927 he was living in a room in Church Road, Battersea, paying 8s a week to Samuel Fitzpatrick) and only returning home to have his dirty clothing washed. In late September, Sarah was worrying more about her wayward son, and said, ‘I told my husband I could not stop in the same house alone as Bernard, as I was afraid of him.’ He often followed his mother around the house. On one of his last visits there, at the end of that month, he stole a ten shilling note from his mother’s purse.

  We shall now return to Constance. Her life was entirely different to that of her lover. She was born in February 1906 and was from a working-class background. Her father, Edwin Oliver, was a lowly watchman and she was one of a family of ten children; six of whom still lived at home in 1927 and Constance was the eldest of these six. They lived in Falcon Grove, Battersea. On leaving school in 1920, aged fourteen, she began work as a typist at the British Steam Specialities, Tarnmill Road, Clerkenwell, and continued in that occupation from then on. She was healthy and behaved well, helping her mother in the house in the evenings and enjoyed singing and playing the piano. Occasionally she spent time with Mildred who lived nearby. It was said, she was ‘highly respected at her place of business, and by all who knew her’. All in all, she was a steady worker and a model daughter – a great contrast to Goulter, indeed.

  They had a short lived romance, yet in that time Constance had grown to love and trust Goulter. On Friday 30 September, they had arranged to meet on the following day at Putney railway station. They did so and went to the cinema, Putney Hippodrome. Goulter then saw her home. They then arranged to meet on the next evening, too. Therefore, the last time her family saw her alive was on Sunday evening, 2 October. She told her father that she was meeting her lover at Putney Station, telling him at 7 pm, ‘I’m going to meet Bernard.’ She had not introduced him to her family. She had not returned by 10 pm, which was very unusual for her. On the following day, her father found that she had not reported to her employers. He then reported her disappearance to the police at West Hill Police Station.

  On Tuesday 4 October, Mrs Annie Martin, one of Constance’s two married sisters, saw Goulter in Wandsworth High Street. She knew of her younger sister’s romance with him and had seen her on the Sunday before she disappeared. Naturally, she was anxious and addressed him thus:

  ‘Have you seen Connie?’

  ‘No, and I don’t want to,’ was his reply.

  Goulter seemed both startled to be asked such a question, and more than that, angry. But Mrs Martin persisted in her enquiry:

  ‘You are the last person she was supposed to meet and its funny she hasn’t been home. My mother is worried to death.’

  ‘No, I was supposed to meet her at Putney Station about 7 pm, and she didn’t turn up. I waited till 8 o’clock, and got fed up; and then went home to my mother.’

  Whether Mrs Martin was satisfied by the answer given, we don’t know. Perhaps not. Certainly, the next person to speak to Goulter found him to be in an odd mood. This was William Turbard, who knew of Goulter’s romance with Constance. Goulter turned up at his friend’s house that evening. Turbard thought that his friend was behaving oddly, and asked him, ‘What’s the trouble, Bert [he knew Goulter as Bert Randall]? you look very worried.’ No answer was forthcoming and he asked Goulter to leave, which he did.

  However, it was Charles Hicks, a parkkeeper employed in Richmond Park, who played the next part in the unfolding drama. He later told the police:

  On the morning of the 5th October I started my duty at 9 o’clock. At 9.50 I was doing my usual rounds. When I was south of the middle road, near the triangle, I noticed something white in the bracken, which I took to be a dead deer. On approaching the object I found it was a woman. The woman was dead. Her right leg was drawn up.

  The body was that of a young woman. She was lying on her back and her clothing was torn and disarranged. Parts of her body were exposed. A white cloth had been tied around her neck, with a knot on the right side. Her bloomers had been burnt and her arms were by her side. Hicks ran to find a passing motorist, who in turn fetched a policeman. PC John Frost was first to arrive, having been found by Robin Hood Gate. At 10.15 pm he was at the scene of the crime, and at 11 Dr Athelstane Nobbs, the Divisional Surgeon, had arrived. When the body was removed in the back of a police car because no ambulance was available, a number of articles were found near or under the corpse. There were five pieces of a broken umbrella, a hair slide, a fur necklet, a broken string of imitation pearls and a handbag with an empty purse. Clearly a struggle had taken place as the bracken all around the corpse had been trodden down.

  It was also obvious who the victim was. Mr Oliver was taken to Kingston Mortuary to identify the body, which was that of his daughter. Later that day, Spilsbury and Dr Nobbs conducted a postmortem examination. Death had occurred some time ago; at least thirty-six hours before the body had been found. Hence the murder must have occurred on Sunday or Monday. Oddly enough, Fred Cooper, another park keeper, had patrolled the park on the Monday and Tuesday and had not noticed the corpse, but then the park covers over 2,000 acres, so thi
s is not too surprising. The time of death was indicated thus because rigor mortis had set in and insects were found on her hand and in her nose. There was a scalp wound on the head and marks around her neck. She had been battered by the umbrella and then had been strangled. She had also been robbed. The doctors concluded, ‘It was quite evident from the general condition of the body, that before her death a fierce struggle had taken place.’

  It was soon known to the police that Goulter had been seeing her. Once the police were aware of who they were looking for, they quickly got to work and patrols were dispatched in order to locate Goulter. Goulter’s sister, on the instigation of her mother, had telephoned them to say that he had paid their home a visit earlier that evening. She had told Goulter, ‘You cannot come in here, Bernard, you had better go to the police. Have you seen the papers, then?’ Goulter had replied that he had and went to Richmond Park. Meanwhile, his father was summoned to Kingston police station, although he had offered to help his former colleagues. Yet they felt he had no intention of helping and would merely hinder their investigations.

  It was PS Loring and PC Joseph Rogers who were in the patrol car which found the wanted man. They saw him at 9 pm standing at a bus stop on Kingston Hill, waiting for a bus to take him to London. It was a dark night, but they spotted Goulter by the lights of a bus. PC Rogers later recalled, ‘I saw the accused about to board an 85 bus proceeding to Putney.’ He was taken by the officers to Kingston police station. The two arresting officers were commended by their superiors thus, ‘The officers referred to acted with great discretion, persistence and ability, with the result that what at first appeared to be a troublesome murder was satisfactorily cleared up by the arrest of the prisoner.’

  Initially, Goulter said nothing to the police. Then he decided to make a confession, after he had been properly cautioned. He said that he had met Constance at 7.15 on Sunday 2 October at Putney station as arranged. They then took a bus to Richmond Park. Once at the park they entered via Robin Hood Gate. They strolled across to the Kingston Gate. They then sat in the ferns. He asked her to meet him on the following night, too. Constance had already seen him on the two last nights and as much as she loved him, did not see herself as exclusively belonging to him. She told Goulter that she was planning to go to the Lyceum with a female friend and a few other young people. A row followed.

  Goulter then stated what happened next:

  I lost my head. I set about her. I hit her on the head with her umbrella which she was carrying – I hit her on the back of the head with the knob of the umbrella. She fell down, but did not go right out. She struck me in the face with her handbag and then I got hold of her by the throat, and held her until she was still alive, although she was in a very dazed condition. Her clothing, when I left her, was torn. That was torn during the struggle … The fight we had was purely owing to jealousy on my part because she was going out with a girl on Monday, and two men.

  He added, ‘She put up a terrific fight, but I beat her at the end.’ Before he left her, he tied a piece of white cloth around her neck so she would not regain consciousness until he was long gone, and stole her money from her purse – all of 2s 4 1/2d.

  The police were convinced of the young man’s guilt and concluded that he had ‘brutally mauled’ the deceased and that it had been a ‘cruel and cold blooded murder’. They thought the reasons behind the crime were as follows, ‘Goulter took the deceased to Richmond Park with one of two, or both intentions in his mind. It or they were to seduce her, or to rob her, or both’. It seems, though, that robbery was not the motive for the murder, but the one which Goulter gave them, namely jealously. In the next few weeks, the police sought additional information about the prisoner, writing to his former employers and enquiring about the mental health of his family.

  Goulter was tried at the Guilford Assizes on 5 December. It had been thought he should have been tried at the Old Bailey because a London jury would not be biased against him, whereas a Surrey jury who had doubtless already read about the case in newspapers such as the Surrey Comet, might well be ill disposed against him. Goulter pleaded not guilty. His defence was one of insanity. It was said, ‘The prisoner is a confirmed masturbator, and that masturbation is not uncommonly associated with many forms of mental disorder.’ It was also noted that his great grandfather, George Henry Goulter, had suffered from mental ill health in his old age, dying at home in Kingston Avenue Road in 1882, and so had two other distant relations on his mother’s side of the family. This type of defence, based on mental illness in the family of the accused, was not uncommon at this time – in 1926 a man accused of a murder in Catford was defended likewise (see the author’s Foul Deeds and Suspicious Deaths in Lewisham and Deptford). However, in both cases, it was unsuccessful. The prosecution brought forward a number of eminent medical witnesses, such as Spilsbury and Dr Hugh Grierson, who countered such a defence. The prison doctor noted, ‘The prisoner had not shown any signs whatsoever of insanity.’ After twenty-five minutes of deliberation, the jury found Goulter guilty and the judge then passed the death sentence. Goulter sobbed and buried his head in his hands on the passing of the sentence.

  An appeal against the verdict was made on 20 December, but all Goulter’s barrister, Laurence Vine’s attempts were in vain. After eighteen minutes the Lord Chief Justice turned down the plea and the sentence passed was upheld.

  Goulter’s last thoughts on the murder were as follows:

  I am very sorry I murdered the girl. I should like to offer my deepest sympathy to the parents of Constance and tell them how sorry I am for what I have done … I did it because I was jealous.

  Such regrets are not uncommon among killers, belated as they are. It seems that Goulter was an immature young man who was unable to control himself. He was also a very possessive and controlling man, who could not abide ‘his’ girlfriend to have a social life of her own. When she stood up to him, he used the only language he knew – violence – and, being physically stronger, was able to overwhelm her resistance to his assault. After having attacked her with her own umbrella, he then strangled her and left her to die – if she was not already dead – in the lonely park that night.

  Goulter paid the penalty for his crime, by being hanged by the neck until he was dead, at Wandsworth prison, on 6 January 1928, at 8am.

  CHAPTER 14

  Murder in the Park (2)

  1931

  I sat with her for hours waiting for her to come round, and did not realise that I had killed her.

  Richmond Park was not always a happy rendezvous for lovers and this chapter narrates a second deadly encounter. Yet the similarities with the previous chapter should not blind us to the differences, too. This story begins on a Sunday evening, 6 April 1931. Kathleen Wallis, of St James’ Avenue, Hampton Hill, was a nineteen-year-old in domestic service, and was returning to her employer’s house after seeing her parents. She was walking adjacent to Richmond Park at about 9 pm and later recalled:

  I was walking down a pathway which runs along the garden fence. About half way down the pathway to the road I stopped and heard a sound. I thought it sounded like someone trying to cry out, but unable to do so. My sister remarked that it sounded like a child. Just then the noise stopped. I looked towards from where the sound came and could just see a dark form. I saw a red glow which looked like a lighted cigarette. We both walked towards the road and again stopped but could hear no further noise. I then went to Kingston Gate. The dark figure did not move. I could not see if it was a man or a woman.

  Later that night, a young man entered Kingston police station. He was in an excitable condition and made a most surprising statement. He said, to PS Gillespie, at 1.14am on 7 April, ‘I believe I have done a girl in at Richmond Park.’

  The young man was William Gordon Baldwin. He had been born on 31 January 1905, at Gibbon Road, Kingston. After leaving school in 1919 he worked as a gas fitter for Kingston Gas Company. He joined the Army on 15 November 1920 and served as a private in the RAMC.
During his military service, which included duty in Eygpt, he suffered from malaria. When he was discharged after his seven year service on 14 November 1927, it was stated that his record was exemplary. On 13 December 1924, he had married one Doris Hodgson at St Stephen’s church, Paddington, and in the following April they had a son, Dennis. However, by 1930 they had separated by mutual consent, and whenever he was in work gave his wife small weekly sums of money. She lived in Clapham and then Kennington.

  Gibbon Road, 2009. The Author

  Baldwin was not in a good state. In July 1930, he lodged at Bessborough Street, Westminster, with one Louisa Green, his landlady. He was then briefly employed at the Army Clothing Store and claimed he needed money to buy his alleged girlfriend, one Daisy, from North Kensington, a present. He borrowed £7 from his landlady and then absconded. On 18 October, he went to his mother’s house in Hampton and stole a wireless and clothing to the value of £29. On 19 October, he took Lysol in order to kill himself, but failed. He explained, ‘I bought the Lysol at Charing Cross. If a certain person had met me at 8 pm as previously arranged I should never have taken Lysol. I waited until 9.15 pm, the certain friend did not come so I made up my mind to do myself in and I will do myself in when I choose.’ He failed and was admitted into Kingston Hospital where he was visited by his parents and left five days later. Dr Percy Davies later said of him, ‘I noticed no signs of mental derangement.’