Foul Deeds in Richmond and Kingston Page 7

  There was great public concern over what had happened, though whether it was due to shock at the constable’s death or worry that murderous burglars were in the neighbourhood, it is not possible to discern. One newspaper noted:

  The quiet neighbourhood of Kingston on Hill was early yesterday morning thrown into a state of excitement by the perpetration of another of those desperate outrages by burglars on the police which of late years have startled the public of the metropolis and the provinces.

  Walton-on-Thames church, 1900s. Author’s collection

  A reward of £200 was advertised for the apprehension of the killer.

  The inquest was held on Saturday 24 September, at The Clarence Arms, Kingston. Atkins’ relatives, principally John Atkins, a postman, identified the body and then the coroner for Mid-Surrey adjourned the hearing for another week. He did, however, allow the family to remove the corpse to Walton-on-Thames for burial. This took place at the parish church on Thursday 29 September. It was very well attended. Superintendent Digby and eleven inspectors from V division were there, as were 1,500 other police officers from various parts of London. Members of the local fire brigades also turned out to pay their respects, as did many local people. Shops were shut on the day of the funeral as a mark of respect. The funeral procession was followed by the police band playing the Dead March from Saul.

  The murder investigation was led by Howard Vincent and two other detectives from the division. Additional clues were that the killer had fled towards the main road first, before going to the Park. The screwdriver had the initials GB on it, which were those of G Bessell, of Commercial Road, East London, but none of this design had been made since 1876. Enquiries to the maker were not helpful. The revolver used in the crime was a six barrel, .450 bore. There was some question as to why Atkins should have left his beat to go up to the private house. Did he see something suspicious? Did the house’s owner pay him to keep a look out on his house? The answer was that the Commissioner had given orders that the house be kept a special eye on.

  Another witness was William Brown, the lodge keeper at The Knoll, who recalled being awoken from his sleep by the opening of the gate and from his window he saw the flashing of a bull’s eye lantern. This would have been Atkins. Brown then heard someone cry ‘All right’. Brown returned to his bed and remained there until after Atkins had been shot and one of his fellow servants told him what had happened. He then went up to the house and saw Short and Bloomfield with Atkins. Apparently the dying man made a number of remarks to those assembled: ‘I saw no one’, ‘I heard no one’, ‘I was coming to the house when fired at’, ‘I saw no one about on my beat and ‘I heard no one run away’.

  The adjourned inquest was concluded at The Clarence Arms on 3 October, and the witnesses told how they found the victim, and then the police officials and doctors spoke of what they found. Digby concluded that, despite all their efforts, and an increased reward of £300, there was very little chance that the perpetrator would be caught:

  I am desired to explain the extreme difficulties which we labour in this case and to say that in the absence of any evidence, direct or indirect, entering upon the tragedy, also in the absence of any marks either upon the chisel or on the lantern, we are almost hopeless of ever being able to bring this crime home to the person who committed the murder … The large reward may lead to something tangible, but as yet we have not a single thing to work on.

  The jury found that this was a case of ‘murder by person or persons unknown’. He was never found, whoever he was. It was supposed that he was a local burglar, who had committed other offences, but only one with such fatal consequences.

  There were a few letters to the local press about this murder. All had different angles. One was shocked at the seeming inhumanity of the servants of the house who did not take the wounded man inside in order to relieve his sufferings, ‘such unkind disregard shown to an individual who among all others was most deserving of commendation’ should be noted.

  Another was a concerned householder, who pointed out the shortcomings of the police. He thought that the notable fact which had hitherto been overlooked was that ordinarily one PC Kavanagh would have been on the beat which on the fatal night had been Atkins’ lot. The writer noted that Kavanagh had been on duty at a race meeting at Hampton on the previous day so had not been allotted to the beat in question. He thought that the burglar would have been aware of this fact. He also thought that the burglar must have been casing the joint hitherto because he seemed to know where a possible entry might be affected. Another pointer to the fact that this burglary was carefully planned was that the palings around the grounds were potentially highly dangerous and so the man probably found a safe exit in advance of his expedition. He hoped the police would look further into the matter.

  The third letter writer was rather more positive towards the police. He recalled that there had been an attempt to burgle his house one night two years ago. He also noted another occasion, when he shot at the burglar (such practices were not officially frowned upon then), and four police officers arrived on the spot in record time, even though his house was fairly isolated. He concluded, ‘I address you in the hope that it will be satisfactory to the local force to show them that their efforts and willingness to aid are truly appreciated in this neighbourhood.’

  The local press concluded with the following observation on the matter:

  We were quite prepared to hear that the police were hopeless of ever being able to bring the murderer to justice. The police, perhaps, have never had any case to investigate in which there has been as little ground to work upon as in this; but it is to be hoped, that although public excitement in reference to this tragedy is fast passing away, they will not relax their hitherto ceaseless efforts to have the crime brought home to the villain who committed it.

  Mr Powys-Keck continued to live at The Knoll until his death in about 1912; by that time he was a JP and a Deputy Lord-Lieutenant.

  A plaque was unveiled to the memory of PC Frederick Atkins in New Malden High Street in 1996.

  CHAPTER 9

  The Major and his Wayward Son

  1888

  You had better speak to me: it is a matter of life or death.

  Middle-class murders are unusual in real life, though not in the pages of fiction. This was an exception to the rule and, in a year overshadowed by the deeds of a more infamous (and anonymous) criminal, it has been all but forgotten. The autumn of 1888 had been, in any case, a grim one in the locality of Kingston. There had been a railway accident at Hampton Wick, where four people had been burnt to death; a drayman was killed in Thames Street, Kingston, and a man was killed in the hayfield near the town. Then there were two deaths by gunshots which are about to be detailed.

  Thomas Hare, born in Ireland in 1817, joined the 27th Regiment, the Royal Inniskillings Fusiliers, on 27 March 1835, as an ensign. He became a lieutenant on 11 November 1838. He switched to a colonial unit, becoming a captain on 1 April 1847 in the Cape Mounted Rifles in South Africa and saw distinguished service in the Kaffir Wars, reaching the rank of major on 26 October 1858 and being awarded the Kaffir Medal. He should, after his retirement shortly afterwards, have had a pleasing life. He had married Frances (born in 1828) from Cape Town and they had at least five sons: Gordon Horace (the third oldest), born in 1855, Waltham, born in 1861 and lastly Maynard, born in 1867. The latter two went into business, as City clerks. After residing in Bournemouth and then Harrow, in the 1860s, since about 1876, they had lived in St James’ Road, Kingston, a street lived in by the middle class. Dr Holberton, who had examined the corpse of Sarah Martin in 1872, lived there.

  Hare lived a fairly retired life, not taking a prominent part in local affairs, as a magistrate or a councillor, as some retired officers did. Yet his local friends talked of his kindness. He was also a keen churchgoer, though he did not attend any one particular church. He also attended meetings of the Liberal Party, supporting local candidates. He was a very healthy man an
d thought nothing of regularly walking long distances.

  Yet there was a fly in the ointment. Gordon Hare was that fly. It is not certain exactly what the reason for his falling out with his father was, but it concerned money. Although his brothers settled down into the ordered world of work, he did not. Perhaps he could not. In 1873, he went to America to pursue cattle farming. He spent most of his adult life abroad, including spells in Australia and Mexico, and had a gift for languages, being able to speak four or five. At first his parents had indulged him to the extent of giving him several thousand pounds. His ventures abroad had not been a success. The money spent, he returned from America to England in 1885, but he was not a prodigal son. He began to threaten his father, to such a serious extent that his father took the extreme step of charging him before the magistrates. Certainly the old man went in fear of his life.

  At the magistrates’ court, in November 1885, the major told the sorry story. As soon as Gordon returned, he had called on his parents and demanded money from them. They told him that he had no claim on them. He returned and caused a scene. He threatened to shoot his father, but he claimed that if his father could not find him a job, he would have to go to the workhouse or kill his father and then commit suicide. Given that he had resisted arrest and had a revolver on his person, his father’s testimony was enough for him to be found guilty of threatening words. He was told by the magistrates that he must find sureties for his good behaviour or be gaoled for three months. Lacking any money, he was imprisoned for the time mentioned.

  On leaving gaol in the following year, he is alleged to have openly repeated his threats. In February 1887, Hare thought about bringing charges again, but was talked out of it. Gordon then went abroad.

  Gordon returned to England in August 1888 and took up residence in Burlington Road, Bayswater. On Friday 24 August, he was seen by Maynard, who lived with his parents, when the latter was leaving his offices. Maynard tried to avoid him, but was unsuccessful, and told Gordon, ‘It is no use for me to speak to you, everybody has tried to speak to you, but it is no good.’ His brother replied, ‘You had better speak to me: it is a matter of life or death.’ The two brothers then lunched together. Maynard was shown some revolver cartridges and his elder brother talked about his money troubles and how no one would help him. There was no explicit threat made against anyone, least of all their father. Gordon then visited his parents, a fact he mentioned to his brother. The major spoke quietly, but firmly to his wayward son, telling him that if he did not leave, he would be trespassing. Martha Hodsell, a housemaid, was instructed not to admit Gordon should he call again.

  It should be noted that Major Hare was not in a position to do much more to financially help his wayward son. On his death, he had but £41 2s 6d. There were no Army pensions for those leaving the forces until 1872; instead, officers sold the commissions they had first paid for, often investing the cash in order to provide an income.

  On the following day, Gordon visited his brother’s place of business. He showed him a number of revolver cartridges and talked of ‘a matter of life and death’, but did not directly threaten their father. Maynard knew that his brother was excitable, especially on the subject of money and he was convinced that he had been ill treated financially and should receive all the help he needed. It should be noted that he was given one guinea a week by his parents which would be enough to prevent him starving. He told Maynard that he was taking sleeping draughts in large quantities. Gordon spent the Saturday night in a hotel in Kingston.

  The climax came on the Sunday evening of 26 August 1888. Major Hare had attended St Mark’s church that evening, as he usually did. Whilst he was at prayer, Gordon called at the family house, at about 7.10 pm but when the housemaid saw who it was, she did not open the door. After waiting on the steps for a few minutes, he tried the back door and then went away, but not for long, for he was waiting for when his father, when he finished his walk home and was on the threshold, unaware of who was waiting for him. It was just before 8 pm.

  St Mark’s church, Surbiton, 1900s. Author’s collection

  It is uncertain whether the Major saw his son or spoke even briefly to him. It was a busy road and he was not expecting to see him there. But as soon as he had opened the gate to the house and had rang the door bell, Gordon addressed him in an angry tone, then pulled out a revolver and discharged two bullets into his father, who fell at once. Then a third shot was fired and the killer dropped to the ground, too. Mrs Hare opened the door on hearing the shots and subsequently fainted at the sight. This was no surprise. Her husband was lying over the gate and her son lay on the steps, but was still breathing. Dr Matthew Owen Coleman was also on hand at once – he had indeed attended the same church service as the major, but left after he had. He examined the body of the major, but he was already dead. On his recommendation, Gordon was sent to Surbiton Cottage Hospital, which was on the other side of the road, but despite being given brandy, he died a few minutes after admission. The police were called, with Inspector Thornby and PC Butcher being quickly on hand.

  The murder weapon was obvious. It was the sixchambered revolver which Gordon still clutched in his right hand. He had shot his father in the neck, severing the blood vessels there. He had then put the barrel of the gun into his own mouth and pulled the trigger. The bullet had entered his brain and killed him shortly afterwards. Thornby searched the body. He found spare cartridges, a little money and a letter from a man in the tea business, informing Gordon that he could not recommend him for employment. The gun was confiscated by PC Alfred Mitchener.

  Dr Braxton Hicks was the coroner who oversaw the inquest at the Cottage Hospital on 28 August. The jury had the nauseous task of trooping into the major’s study where his body lay, then returned to the hospital to see the son’s body, which was in a coffin in the hospital mortuary. The policemen, doctor and Maynard Hare all gave evidence. The conclusion was that this was murder followed by suicide. Dr Hicks suggested that the only ray of comfort from the whole tragedy was that the family had been spared the ordeal of a murder trial which could only have resulted in Gordon’s being hanged. A message of sympathy was sent to the grieving widow. On the same day, the major and his son were buried in the same grave in Kingston Cemetery. His widow soon left the house and went to live in Parklands, Surbiton Hill, dying there in 1893.

  This was a shocking crime. Although we don’t know the full details of the story leading up to the double shooting, it does seem that Gordon had wasted the money his parents had given him, but could not accept that they could not give him any more large sums. Perhaps his father’s sympathy was less than it should have been, but to threaten to kill him was a step too far. To murder his own father was the ultimate revenge on the man who he thought had wronged him.

  Ironically, in London’s East End, on the day after the inquest, Polly Nichols was killed and mutilated by an unknown man subsequently known as Jack the Ripper – she was perhaps his first victim – and poor Major Hare was forgotten by the newspaper reading public.

  CHAPTER 10

  The First Fred West

  1894

  Barnes Common is a rather lonely spot, and does not bear the best of reputations.

  Exactly a century before grim revelations were made at Cromwell Road, Gloucester, one Fred West was at the centre of another murder investigation. Although his predecessor was almost certainly unknown to the multiple murderer of the early 1990s, it is an eerie coincidence. Although this case was not as terrible as the later one, it did leave the police and public with unfinished business on their hands, whereas at least the later case was cleared up.

  James Robert Wells was born in Somers Town, London, in 1863. In 1891, he was living with his widowed stepmother and one of his sisters (both named Maria), in a house in Glenthorne Road, Hammersmith; indeed he had lived in Hammersmith for most of his life. His occupation was that of a butcher and he lived above the shop. Although he was a teetotaller, he enjoyed gambling and this may have led him to his un
timely demise in 1894. He was also a bachelor.

  Glenthorne Road, 2009. The Author

  On Thursday evening, 1 May 1894, Wells had been at his younger brother’s house on Tabor Road, Hammersmith. Josiah Richard Wells later recalled that his brother left the house at about 10.45 pm, and was walking his sisters home safely to their home in Winchmore Street, Putney. Miss Alice Ada and Miss Jane Wells thus accompanied their brother. He did not plan to walk the entire way with them, but would see them past the lonely stretch on Barnes Common. He left them at the Lodge, near Rock Lane on the west side of the common. The time was about 11.20 pm. Ada saw him begin his return trip and that was the last time she saw him alive. What happened next is unclear, but what is certain is that Wells was attacked.

  Perhaps we should pause for a moment to consider a contemporary assessment of the Common on which the tragedy was about to occur:

  Barnes Common is a rather lonely spot, and does not bear the best of reputations. The roads converge near the spot where the body was found, but the nearest house is that of the Common keeper. The common is a pleasant enough place during the day time, and just now is in the fresh green of early spring time. Many who live in Hammersmith enjoy a walk amongst the gorse and undergrowth, but at night time most respectable people avoid the spot for the simple reason that it is then the resort of loose characters of both sexes. It would not be at all surprising for anyone to be stopped and robbed there, although murder is a length to which the footpad does not usually go.