Whilst touching on police type matters I must acknowledge the peculiarity of my police statements. If you know anything about section 9, CJA 1967 statements, or nowadays, MG11s, you will be aware that the statements in the story are nothing like. If you have that much knowledge, you will also realise that to include an actual statement – or even part thereof – would bog the narrative down with unnecessary detail and dry-as-dust jargon etc. Poetic licence. Thank you.
As always, I have attempted to ensure that I have got my facts right in respect of the real, actual events that underpin the adventures of my fictional characters. Obviously any interaction that my cast has with the real people in the story, did not and could not have taken place and if I have made any of the real life people act in an uncharacteristic manner, or say things that they would not have said in real life, I apologise.
Dovetailing the fictional with the factual in ‘Panther’ has, at times, been quite a challenge. Neilson committed such a large number of crimes and over such a protracted period, that I have had to be quite ruthless in chopping and telescoping the real timescales to fit the story. I have also had to be quite terse in the description of some matters, as I did not want the pace of the narrative to slow down and descend into a mere list of crimes committed. At no time has it been my intention to downplay, or minimise any one of his crimes relative to any other, but to get everything in that I needed for my story, demanded some fairly arbitrary and sometimes hard decisions.
Although the burglary at the Woodfield Road post office in Nottingham has been attributed to Neilson, personally, I doubt that he committed it. It took place in 1967, long before the burglaries (1970 and 1971) that netted him the guns and ammunition that he later used to commit the aggravated burglaries and armed robberies. If he had taken to arming himself in 1967, why wait four years before committing another armed raid? And, where did that weapon come from, and why was it not found during the police searches? Additionally, he never admitted that particular offence. I acknowledge that his version of events was not always the most reliable, but he admitted far more serious matters, albeit usually with some spurious justification and/or mitigation, so having talked about murders and the kidnapping, why not talk about one more burglary? It would not have made one iota of difference to his eventual sentence. And, as Dee said, to have included that burglary would (in real life as well as in the story) have thrown the profiling right off course.
The profiling in the book is mine, but the facts are as correct as possible. I am indebted to Professor David Canter and his scholarly work, ‘Criminal Shadows’ for the science underpinning my fiction. Well worth a read. And yes, I actually bought maps and did the plotting. The post office jobs did indeed indicate that Neilson lived in Barnsley, but that was before the welter of domestic burglaries arrived to transform the data.
Would offender profiling have helped if it had been used? It could have, although it is impossible to say for sure. It definitely would not have done any harm. Although the science did start with Lionel Haward, some of the techniques Dee talks about were later developments (see Criminal Shadows) and how closely they would have been able to pinpoint him in the 1970’s, is arguable. My fictional profiler would have had her work cut out with her task – one that would be relatively straightforward with the software and computing power available today. What is certain is that not one avenue of enquiry that was followed – and the amount of work, effort and police time expended on the various enquiries was prodigious – would ever have led them to Neilson.
As Commander Morrison said, “Without doubt it was the toughest job I have known in 31 years of police service… If Neilson had stopped committing crime immediately after the kidnapping episode, it is possible that we might still be looking for him today.”
*
Technical note:
(For all the nerds, and pedants like me…)
T Boulders is an anagram, but I’m sure you spotted that.
When Olivia tells Groat about herself and how much she can earn, he exclaims, “That’s as much as my compensatory grant.” Police corruption was always an issue, right from the 1800’s and even more of a problem whilst officers were paid a pittance. One of the difficulties with being so poorly paid was getting somewhere to live. In the early days, officers would often find accommodation in the cheapest of cheap areas – the slums, where criminals and prostitutes also lived – the ramifications being obvious. Amongst police regulations, therefore, appeared one which dictated that officers could only reside in premises inspected and approved by the chief officer of police. This is still in force today. Later, to assist with this situation, all officers would be accommodated in section houses (single men and women) or purpose built police houses. When some small degree of affluence crept in and officers wanted to buy their own property, they could apply for rent allowance. Full allowance if you were married, half if you were single. There was no taxation in those days on ‘benefits in kind’ so the occupation of a police house did not involve any liability. To maintain equality, therefore, rent allowance was paid free of tax. This was too complicated to administer on a monthly basis, so once a year, officers in receipt of rent allowance would receive a lump sum in compensation for tax paid throughout the year. The lump sum would, of course, be taxed! So, the following year, one would receive a grant for tax paid during that year – including that paid on the previous year’s grant – and so it snowballed. Whilst salaries and tax levels were modest, so were compensatory grants, but by the time all the various allowances were phased out or otherwise dispensed with in the 1990’s, compensatory grants could amount to many thousands of pounds.
The Panther was correct. The post office jobs were technically aggravated burglaries. Burglary is defined as when a person ‘enters a building or part of a building as a trespasser, with intent to steal.’ (The mens rea includes other matters, but Neilson’s intent was theft.) Interestingly, this definition means that shoplifters (not a term known in law) are actually burglars, as no shopkeeper would allow them into their shop if they knew they were not there to buy something, but to steal. So they enter as trespassers and then steal. Burglary. But I digress.
Burglary becomes ‘aggravated’ if a person ‘commits burglary and at the time has with him a WIFE (as the old police mnemonic has it) – a Weapon of offence, an Imitation firearm, Firearm, or Explosive.’
Where he roused the occupants, or they were otherwise forced to treat with him in some way, the offence could also become a robbery – ‘A person is guilty of robbery if he steals, and immediately before, or at the time of doing so, and in order to do so, he uses force on any person, or puts or seeks to put any person in fear of being then and there subjected to force.’
Additionally for the pedants, like me; when Neilson did start talking, he told the officers interviewing him that he lived on Leeds Road (not Grangefield Avenue as per my story. Literary licence, I’m afraid – it worked better). In the real life investigation, they could not find the address he gave them, until a visit to the local police, who told them that what the locals called ‘Leeds Road’ (in fact the road from Bradford to Leeds, but was formally differently named) so it is true, ‘Leeds Road’, where Neilson lived and said he lived, was actually, properly called Grangefield Avenue.
Donald Nielsen. Jobbing joiner turned burglar. Burglar, turned aggravated burglar, armed robber, kidnapper, blackmailer and murderer.
HISTORICAL NOTE
Donald Nappey was born on 1st August 1936 and lived with his father, a Willeyer at a woollen mill and his mother, a textile worker, in a tiny one up, one down terraced place, later demolished in a slum clearance programme. Because of his surname and diminutive size, he was bullied at school and in later life, during his National Service.
His mother died during the atrocious, arctic winter of 1947. Someone had to do the house work, so, being the oldest child (he had a sister four years his junior) from the age of ten, he had to do all the shopping, cooking, cleaning, washing and ironing f
or the family.
When he was 16, his father took in a housekeeper and seemed to be contemplating marriage again. Donald did not get on with the woman, who on one occasion even put a bar of soap in his lunchbox, to take to work with him. Shortly after this, he left home to live with some former neighbours. He was not gregarious and did not make friends easily. He didn’t smoke or drink which made it even more difficult for him to be one of the crowd.
He did have a 125cc BSA Bantam motorbike, bought on hire purchase and discovered that he was a reasonably good dancer. When he was 17, he met Irene Tate, a 19 year-old millworker, at a ‘Half-crown Hop’ at Bradford Textile Hall.
He was in and out of work, abandoning his first job after a matter of months. He was apprenticed to a joiner, but considered it slave labour. He tried studying joinery at evening classes, before starting another apprenticeship.
This ended when on 6th January 1955, he was called up for National Service.
He was posted to the Kings Own Yorkshire Light Infantry at Pontefract Barracks. During his time in the army, he learned about guns and ammunition and the tactics and strategies for successful sorties. He gained prowess in tracking and survival – skills which were to help him in his later, criminal career.
He saw service in Kenya for the anti Mau-Mau operations. Then on to Cyprus fighting EOKA terrorists and finally to Aden where he took part in internal security duties against Arab nationalists. Before he went, he married Irene at St Paul’s Church, Morley, on 30th April 1955. Relatives said he only did it to get the Service marriage allowance.
After he was demobbed, they were unable to afford a house of their own initially, so lived with Irene’s eldest sister for three years, during which time, the Nappey’s only child, Kathryn was born.
He tried a series of jobs. Door-to-door salesman, collecting waste paper, scrapping metal and a window cleaning round, but none of them came to anything. He bought a Morris Oxford and for a couple of years worked as a private hire cab driver, but it was at a time of ‘minicab wars’ and he got fed up with the continual aggravation and strife – and ensuing lack of trade.
Before Kathryn was due to start school, mindful of the cross he’d had to bear in the form of his surname, he changed the family’s name to that of the taxi firm – Neilson.
In yet another attempt to get a bit more cash flowing in, he converted part of their house into flatlets, but even this was to prove insufficient. It was at about this point that he turned to crime.
He started off with dwelling house burglaries, but even at that early stage, he was cute enough to adopt what he called his ‘all change’ system, using one MO for a series, and then something different for a few more. In one way, he was the perfect criminal. Never been in trouble, so not on record. No fingerprints, either. He didn’t drink, so was not going to be caught out, drunkenly boasting about his exploits, or being caught on a job because he was under the influence. Many burglars are, as they find breaking in exciting / frightening and often resort to some Dutch courage before going out, committing crime.
He only ever took things that he could immediately use himself. Usually cash and never anything in which he would have to involve a third party. He never, ever told his daughter about his criminal exploits.
He said he had never told his wife Irene, either, but that assertion is, at best questionable. One of their babysitters said that the Neilsons would go out late at night and return in the early hours. What were they doing? Not many mid week, late night venues in Bradford or the surrounding area in the early 70’s.
Also, about 21:30 on 15th January 1975 and around an hour before Gerald Smith was shot, a witness stated that she was sitting in her car, on Trindle Road, Dudley, waiting for her husband. She saw a car, registered number TTV 454H drive down the road and park directly in front of her. A man and a woman got out and walked away, towards the Station Hotel. This was less than 100 yards from where the shooting later took place. She said she gained the impression that the couple may have had an argument, as the man crossed the road towards the hotel, but the woman stayed on the other side of the road.
Additionally, after Neilson’s arrest, when the police arrived to search the place, they found that Irene had been burning postal orders in the fireplace. She was later convicted of dishonestly cashing postal orders – many hundreds of pounds worth and over a considerable period of time. She was sentenced to 12 months imprisonment. A hefty sanction for a first time offender. Maybe not a Rosemary to her Fred West, but hardly an innocent bystander, with no knowledge (as she claimed) of her husband’s misdeeds.
Neilson came by the weapons and ammunition in two burglaries, the first on 17th November 1970 at premises in Thornhill, Dewsbury, where he stole a Remington automatic shotgun, a Smithson double barrelled shotgun and a quantity of cartridges. The second was at the end of January 1971 from a house in Cheadle Hume, Cheshire, where he stole a Hi Standard .22 automatic pistol (used to kill Derek Astin, Sidney Grayland and Gerald Smith, but never recovered by the police) a Walther 7·65mm automatic pistol, a Voere .22 automatic rifle, a Crossman .177 air rifle and 300 rounds of ammunition.
The list of his crimes is as accurate and comprehensive as I could achieve, bearing in mind that this is a novel and I have allowed myself some artistic licence. I have not been able to establish the names of all people with 100% accuracy, so in time honoured tradition, I have either glossed over matters, or simply made them up. If anybody knows any different and cares enough to enlighten me, I shall endeavour to make the corrections for the inevitable reprint / revision (!)
The Gloucester underpass business was a hoax. The couple ostensibly passing by walking their dog were later arrested and found guilty of trying to obtain £50,000 by deception from Ronald Whittle – because they had seen the money on the TV appeal and wanted to emigrate to Australia.
Neilson always maintained that his kidnap target was either Ronald, or Dorothy. In one sense, it matters not. The crime, the conviction, the sentence would have been the same whoever he abducted, but look at the evidence, the circumstances. He had to force his victim out of the house and singlehandedly secure them and get them into the car. How would he have managed with Dorothy, at that time 60 years old? And how would he have kept Ronald covered by his shotgun and at the same time, tied him up? If he had put the gun down to secure his prisoner, who knows what might have happened. In any case, he had been in and around Beech Croft on several occasions, sussing out the lie of the land. He would presumably have found out that Ronald no longer lived there, but with his wife, a mile or so away. Neilson may have been a lot of things (many unpleasant) but he was careful and was a planner, no doubt about that. How much easier with a slip of a girl of 17 – shorter than him and only 8 stone wet through. If he had taken Ronald, at Bathpool Park, he would somehow have to get his fit, 6 foot tall, prime of life, 14 stone victim out of the car and force him down a sixty foot drainage shaft. What chance? Far, far easier with little Lesley. The area he had chosen to secure his abductee – 22” wide by 5’ long. Just the right size for Lesley, Ronald would have been hard put, to stay put. I could go on.
Was there ever any sexual involvement with Lesley? He always maintained there was not, but I would defy any red blooded man in a position of absolute power – as he was – with a slim, seventeen year old girl, naked, in such close proximity, not to have the thought cross his mind. There is no evidence that he did pursue anything of a sexual nature with her, but when asked, would only say that his daughter, Kathryn was only a couple of years younger than her, so obviously nothing would ever have happened.
Right.
I’ll leave that one with you.
Did he mean to kill her? I must say that I am surprised the Crown pursued a murder charge. He was already on a fairly certain road to being convicted of three murders. He would have received no further meaningful sanction for a fourth. There was sound evidence for manslaughter. He had put her in the way of harm. She died as a result. Manslaughter, cut and dried, whether
he intended her to die or not.
I am absolutely amazed that they actually went on to secure a conviction for murder. There was no sign of a struggle. She had no marks on her. From the evidence there was, it seems a reasonable assumption that she did, indeed slip over the edge of her platform in the sleeping bag. There is even some doubt that he was there when it happened. So, no independent evidence that he was there at the time (although he admitted he was) no evidence of the force that would have been needed to push her over, with her struggling against being pushed. In fact, had the wire tether not snagged as she fell, it wouldn’t have made any difference whether she fell, or was pushed. She would have landed on the ledge below. Was it the Crown’s contention that he pushed her over, knowing the wire was long enough for her to stand up when she landed, or that he knew it would snag, and so hang her? Either way, it does not really make sense. My opinion is that the murder conviction was attained simply because of the overwhelming sentiment against him – that and the fact he’d let it slip that Lesley had seen him without his hood on. There was so much of a media frenzy surrounding the Black Panther and his exploits, that no amount of distance or time could free the trial entirely from public knowledge of him and what he had done. He had killed several times already – so obviously he’d done it again.
The Perfect Crime Page 31
