Foul Deeds in Richmond and Kingston Page 8
The attack cannot have happened much after his sisters last saw him, because just after 11.30 pm, William Robertson Patterson, a merchant of Putney Common, was on the scene. Patterson had taken a cab from Hammersmith Bridge, to his home, but had decided to alight before he arrived there, because he thought it would be a quicker journey if he cut across the footpath rather than taking the cab on the longer way round on the road. He walked along the footpath to Rock’s Lane and then heard cries for help. This was from a place only 130 yards from where the common keeper’s cottage was located and 200 yards from Crofts Lane. It was here where he found the dying Wells. Wells was probably taken by surprise because he was a tall and muscular man, as one would imagine a butcher would need to be, and he had a stick with him. He may well have been surprised, because of the dark night, visibility was at a premium. Patterson asked the man to get up, but he could not do so, nor could he speak. He was, however, still breathing. He then thought he saw something or someone moving in the direction of Putney, but he could not be sure whether he had or not, ‘because it would be difficult to tell a man from a tree at that distance’.
Barnes Common, c1900. Author’s collection
Patterson then tried to find anyone he could. These turned out to be two cyclists, Samuel Letts of Shepherd’s Bush and Joseph Marshall of Paddington. They went over to where the body lay. Patterson saw a man crossing the footbridge nearby, on his way to Putney. This was Henry Stallman, a commercial traveller, of Putney, who, on being told of the injured man, went with one of the cyclists to fetch the common keeper at about 11.40 pm. This was Henry Sergent, who had just turned in after returning from patrolling the common at 11.15; he had then been from the Red Lion to Putney Common and back and had seen nothing untoward. He quickly dressed and joined the other three – Stallman then departed.
Barnes railway station, 2009. The Author
The four men looked at the body of a man lying on the ground, a few yards from the path. His coat had been shuffled up his back as if he had been dragged by his feet. Then they washed the man’s face, which was bloodstained. Sergent blew his whistle to alert any policemen in the vicinity. This was heard at 11.50 pm by PS Alfred Cole, who was on Queen’s Road, Barnes, and who ran to the scene, where he found the four men standing near the dying man. Other constables arrived shortly afterwards. James Eyre, on duty at Barnes railway station, also heard the whistle and came along to investigate.
In the meantime, finding that the man was not dead, PS Cole asked him a number of questions, the dialogue as follows:
‘What is your name?’
‘Wells.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘21 Glenthorne Road, Hammersmith.’
‘Who did this?’
‘West, West.’
‘Who?’
‘Fred West.’
‘Where does he live?’
‘21 Glenthorne Road. I came across the Common and he did it.’
‘Did he strike you unawares?’
‘Yes.’
‘Had you anything to drink?’
‘No.’
‘Been to the Red Lion?’
‘No.’
‘Boileau?’
This was presumably a reference to the nearby Boileau Arms. Wells’ final words were, ‘I am cold, lift me up.’
At 11.45, at Bridge Road, Barnes, Acting PS Hunt met a man who told him that a murder had been committed on the Common. It would have taken about fifteen minutes to have walked from the place of the crime to where the sergeant was. This man may have been Stallman.
There were a few clues lying nearby. One was undoubtedly the murder weapon. It was a piece of iron, perhaps once part of a cart wheel, which had been flattened out. There were bloodstains on it and on a nearby handkerchief, probably used by the killer to wipe the weapon clean of blood. There was also a hat and a walking stick nearby, but the latter was clean.
In Well’s pockets were 30s in silver, four pence in bronze coins, a steel watch chain and a new silver watch, a ruled race card and the rules of the Cork Club. Amongst the papers found was a memorandum in which West was named and the letters ‘pd’ were stated. On another paper, the same name appeared, with the letters ‘np’ against it. It was surmised that these referred to money that Wells owed West for gambling successes and that ‘pd’ meant paid and that ‘np’ meant not paid. The writing on these notes was identified as being that of Wells.
Two doctors examined the dying man. Dr Frederick Welstead, of White Lodge, Lower Richmond Road, appears to have been the first, summoned shortly after midnight by the police. He found Wells semiconscious. The face was washed and there was no brain matter protruding. There were scalp wounds on the back of the neck. There was also a wound on the forehead, probably caused when the victim was lying on the ground. Some of the victim’s teeth had been knocked out.
Wells was then taken to the West London Hospital, where the house surgeon, Robert Ross Setter, examined him. His clothes were covered in blood and he was evidently dying. Additional wounds were found on the man’s right forehand and on the back of his right hand, where he had probably raised his arm to try and defend himself. During the autopsy, he concluded that there were about forty separate wounds to the head, which had resulted in multiple fractures to the skull, any one of which would have caused death. All this suggested that this had been a ferocious attack, caused by far more savagery and force than would be necessary to ensure that Wells would die. John Wells, younger brother to the deceased, identified his late brother in the early hours of that day.
With the dying words of the deceased in mind, Inspector Pugsley and Detective Sergeant Hawkins went to Glenthorne Road on 7.40 am on the morning after the murder. They saw West at the corner of Cambridge Road. He was described as ‘a rather short man, with bronzed face and iron-grey moustache’. West had been born in Hayes, Middlesex in 1837, but now lived with his family in York Road, Hammersmith and was employed as a wood sawyer at Kirkman’s piano factory. He was known by all as ‘a quiet and inoffensive fellow’. Pugsley walked over to him and said, ‘Your name is Frederick West?’
‘No, my name is Alfred West,’ was the reply.
Pugsley explained who he was and that West was acquainted with Wells, who had been murdered on the Common on the previous night. Furthermore, he was going to arrest him on suspicion because the dying man had identified him as his assailant. West objected, saying, ‘If he is dead, how could he say that I did it?’
Pugsley explained and then cautioned his prisoner. West trembled. On their way to Hammersmith Police Station, West said, ‘I am surprised. I saw him last night about seven, and bought some sausages from him.’ He was later formally charged at Barnes police station. He said, ‘I have not been to Barnes for some months until this morning. Three or four weeks ago I was at the Boileau Arms for a glass of beer.’
The murder created great local excitement. People flocked to the Common to see the scene of the crime. They also gawped outside Wells’ home in Glenthorne Road. And they clamoured to attend the inquest. The local press in Richmond and Hammersmith also catered to this demand for murder news.
The inquest was begun at the Hammersmith Coroner’s Court on 6 May. Wells’ sisters gave evidence of when they last saw him. A description of the discovery of the corpse and Wells’ last words were then given, followed by the medical details, all of which has already been related.
There was speculation as to why Wells had been killed. One theory was that robbery was the motive, but if so it was odd that none of Wells’ money had been taken, though as against that, it was possible that the thief had been disturbed by the arrival of Stallman. Another possibility was that someone had personal reasons for hating Wells – perhaps this was a crime of passion or revenge for a past wrong or the result from a more recent quarrel. Yet everyone spoke of Wells as being a quiet and harmless individual who had apparently not an enemy in the world.
Gambling might have provided a reason. As well as being a butcher, Wells was
a bookmaker and took bets on horses. One of his clients was West. Could there have been a quarrel over unpaid gambling debts? Yet everyone stated that the two men were on good terms, and in any case, the amounts involved seemed too small for any murderous attack.
Josiah Wells, a brother to the deceased, stated that the common could be a dangerous place and recounted an experience of his there:
I was stopped myself, a short time ago, while taking my sisters home to Putney, by a man who sprang out of the dark and flourished a stick, but disappeared when he saw I was not alone.
Setter was asked whether a man in the condition that Wells was in would have been able to have given intelligible answers, and he thought perhaps not. The coroner summed up, concluding Wells’ last words could not be taken as being accurate and that the debt of 2s 2d was hardly an amount to have led to murder. Therefore, there was no one whom suspicion pointed. He adjourned the inquest for a week.
On the following day Wells was buried. There were crowds of people along the route from Glenthorne Road to St John’s church, where the service was conducted by two clergymen. Five mourning coaches followed the open car, where the coffin was loaded down with wreaths. Apart from family members, local tradesmen also turned out en masse to pay their respects at church and cemetery.
The inquest was concluded on Thursday 11 May. The matter attracted much public attention, for both the court and its precincts were packed with spectators. West had to be conveyed there in a cab. He was placed on the witness bench and at first appeared flushed and nervous, as well he might, before relaxing and becoming merely passively interested.
No evidence could be brought against West. In fact, several witnesses spoke on his behalf. Pugsley stated that his clothes and house had been examined, but there were no traces of blood and nothing suspicious whatsoever. Apart from the man’s betting, there was nothing known against his character. No motive apart from the gambling debt of 2s 2d could be found.
Alfred John Bailey, West’s foreman, spoke up on his man’s behalf. He had seen him at the Royal Oak on Glethorne Road at 8.10 pm on the night of the murder. They had remained there until 9.40 pm and then went to West’s home, where he saw him indoors. He added that there was nothing like the weapon used which could be found at the works. Florence West, West’s daughter, recalled the two men coming to the door at about 9.40 pm. West then went to bed, after some conversation. Florence and her sister Ada were downstairs that night until past midnight, preparing things for their mother, also called Ada, who was aged forty-three, and was unwell. The younger Ada bolted the front door at 11 pm. Early next morning, Florence told her father to stop snoring or he would awake her mother. Ada recalled seeing her father at 11 pm, when he told her to keep a good fire in his wife’s bedroom. He woke next morning at 6.30 am as usual. William Butler, a lodger, remembered coming home that night and seeing West at 10.10 pm at the house. Thomas Clarke, manager at the factory where West worked, said West had worked there for a number of years and bore an excellent character.
After some consultation with his solicitor, West made a statement before the court:
I left off work at 7 o’clock on Tuesday 1st May. I went on to Cambridge Road and in the Glenthorne Road I called at Wells’ shop. I bought a pound of sausages from him. I was there most nights of the week. I went on shopping further so as to keep the children at home attending to their mother. After the shopping I went to the Royal Oak. I stayed there from shortly after eight to twenty minutes to ten, and Alfred Bailey and I walked home together. We stopped at the door until my daughter came to open it: then I bade him goodnight and he went away. I went into the kitchen and gave the goods to my daughter. I went upstairs afterwards to my wife, while one of my daughters came down to get supper, and went to bed. I was called at half past six the next morning to have breakfast and I went out to work at 7.30.
There then followed some discussion about the serious nature of the case, and that everything had been done to shed light on it, albeit unsuccessfully. The coroner said that the Common was desolate and tree lined, and that it would be easy to attack someone there and then to escape. The police did not think the open space was particularly dangerous, though rough sleepers were often found there. Assaults there were rare. The coroner thought that the motive could have been revenge or it could have been robbery, though he thought both were unlikely, and that there was no corroboration of the deceased’s statement that West was responsible. The inquest was concluded on this unsatisfactory, because inconclusive, note, and West was congratulated by his colleagues for being made a free man once more. It is assumed that that none of West’s family were lying to protect him.
West was very relieved to be out of custody. He had spent over a week at Holloway prison and the experience had not agreed with him. The food and bedding was poor. There was daily exercise in the yard, daily chapel services and books to read – he had enjoyed reading a history of the Fire Brigade. Because his wife was ill, he had had a friend write letters to her purporting to be from him, saying that he was away on business. Pugsley apologised for detaining him. West had no idea why Wells mentioned his name and stated, ‘I had known him for years. We had little transactions together, but apart from that we were fond of one another’s company. We often met, and enjoyed a chat, both on week days and Sundays. Wells was always cheerful and good natured.’
A reader of the West London Observer, ‘Justitia’, speculated about the murder in print. He thought that the handkerchief which the murder weapon had been wrapped in, was an overlooked but significant clue. He thought that the killer’s name or some other marking on it might give the identity of the murderer away. He thought that the attack was motivated by revenge or passion and that the victim’s past should be examined. Or the killer might be ‘a dangerous lunatic’. Should such be the case, the sooner he is found the better; otherwise the late murder may be supplemented by others, just as in the case of the notorious “Ripper” crimes which made such a sensation some years ago. In any case, Barnes Common should be under police supervision for some time to come’.
Most cases of unsolved murder result in someone coming forward to confess to the crime; almost always a man who has absolutely no connection with the matter. This one was no exception. Shortly after the inquest proceedings had closed, a young man went to Hammersmith Police Station early one evening on 17 May. He gave his name as Frederick Albert Welch, a twenty-five-year-old builder and bookmaker. He handed a written confession to Inspector Harry Ashwell. The police officer was told that the young man killed Wells because the latter owed him £120 in gambling debts. He was sent to Barnes police station, where Pugsley read through the confession to the man and entered his details on the charge sheet. When being asked if he had anything to say after the charge had been read out, he said that the address he had written in the confession was wrong and that he refused to tell them the real one. He added, about the charge, ‘I object to the “malice aforethought”, that is quite a different thing. I had no intention of killing at the time.’
On the following day, the man was brought before the Richmond magistrates, where he was charged. He was remanded in custody on the strength of his confession. However, enquiries revealed that his real name was Frederick Albert Davies, of Argoed House, Castleneau, Barnes. He had once been apprenticed on the sailing ship, Enterkin, where, in 1889, he had fallen down the hold and had injured his head. So seriously were his wounds that his mental health had been adversely affected thereafter.
Davies, to give the man his correct name, reappeared before the magistrates on 22 May. He handed them a letter. In it, he stated that his confession was ‘a lie from beginning to end’. In order to avoid wasting any more time, he added that he was a married man, and was not a bookmaker and knew no more about the crime than what he had read in the newspapers. His letter concluded, ‘Why I should have put together such a fabrication of abominable lies I cannot tell. I believe it to be temporary insanity’. Pugsley had in the meantime been making additional e
nquiries and found that Davies was not guilty. He was thus released.
This brought the case back to square one. Who had killed Wells, and why? Robbery is a possibility, but if so, why did the attacker add murder to theft by striking far more than was necessary? If the murder was intended and was by someone known to Wells, who either followed him or had arranged to meet him on the common, it seems odd that no one knew who could be responsible – after all, Wells had lived in the locality for all his adult life. One assumes that none of the men known to be on the common that night – Stallman and Patterson – had anything to do with the crime. It seems unlikely that if they had that they would not have left the scene as quickly as possible. The other question is why did Wells mention West as he lay dying? Perhaps it was delirium, for Alfred West seems to have been at home at the time of the murder, according to his and his family’s testimonies. Could Wells have been mistaken for someone else in the dark? This, perhaps, is the most likely explanation, but it only leaves further questions; namely, who was the intended victim, and were they killed at a later date?
CHAPTER 11
A Suicide Pact
1905
I am going to take this; it will end it once and for ever.
Most well known cases of poisoning are among the middle classes, such as the Crippens, the Maybricks and the case detailed in this book (chapter 3). However, in reality, poisoning is more common among the poor and the desperate, although these are usually little known. This case is one of them.