Foul Deeds and Suspicious Deaths in Reading

by John J Eddleston

  An appeal was entered, the three grounds given were, that the prosecution had failed to provide any motive for the alleged offence; that the verdict was against the weight of evidence; and that Hutchinson was simply not guilty of murder. The appeal was dismissed as being worthless and the sentence was confirmed. Finally, on Wednesday 23 November 1932, Ernest Hutchinson was hanged at Oxford.

  Ernest Hutchinson’s death notice from Oxford prison. The National Archives

  CHAPTER 9

  The Airman Eric Stanley Pocock 1946

  Constable Ronald John George Haunton was having a quiet enough night on Sunday 1 September 1946, when his beat took him into Friar Street, Reading at 11.45pm. It was then that he was approached by an airman in uniform, who was missing his hat, collar and tie.

  The airman identified himself as twenty-one-year-old Flight Sergeant Eric Pocock and said he was stationed at Lasham. He went on to say that he wished to give himself up as he had just strangled a woman inside a shop at number 54.

  Pocock was taken into custody and Constable Haunton called in for assistance. Some thirty minutes after Pocock had handed himself in, Constable Leslie Frederick Sawyer approached the confectioners and tobacconist’s shop at 54 Friar Street to check out the report.

  Friar Street, where the murder took place. Author’s Collection

  The front and rear doors were both locked, as were all the windows. At first it appeared that the report of a murder had been erroneous but then Sawyer shone his torch through the window, into the room behind the shop. There he could see something white in the shadows and, looking more closely, he saw that the shape appeared to be the naked legs of a woman.

  A few minutes later, the police ambulance arrived, driven by Constable Hacker. The two officers then forced an entry through the front door and, going into the room at the rear, found the body of a woman lying on the floor. She was wearing only a slip and a bra. Other items of her clothing were in a tidy pile on a nearby table.

  Doctor Michael Francis Murphy, the police surgeon, arrived on the premises at 12.23am on 2 September and officially pronounced life extinct. He noted that the woman lay on her back, with her feet pointing towards a fireplace and her head inclined towards the entrance doorway. Her hands were across her abdomen and her legs were extended and lightly apart. The doctor also noted that the deceased woman still had a sanitary towel in place.

  Meanwhile, Detective Sergeant Leonard Robert Allen had arrived at Friar Street and he now made a careful search of the premises. An airforce cap, collar and tie were found in the room, along with a handbag which, presumably, belonged to the dead woman. Inside this, Sergeant Allen found a letter, which was addressed to Mrs Dobbs at The Queens Arms, 24 St Knollys Street, Reading. Opening the letter, Sergeant Allen began to read:

  To my dear Mum and Dad,

  By the time you receive this note I shall be gone from this world. Please don’t grieve for me because this is what I want. I’ve lived my life and am happy to be going this way, and The Airman: Eric Stanley Pocock, 1946 please don’t blame Mick. I am going of my own free will. This way I leave Teddy free to marry again if he so desires, which is more than he could do for me. All I asked was a devorce [sic] which, after all, wasn’t so much, if he loved me as much as he said.

  Goodbye and God bless you all. Connie.

  The dead woman was soon identified as twenty-nine-year-old Constance Lillian Boothby, who lived with her parents at the public house at 24 St Knollys Street. She was the manageress of the shop where her body was found, and a key-holder of the premises.

  Back at the police station, Pocock was also examined by a doctor and a small stab wound was discovered just above the apex of his heart. This had, apparently, been caused by a pair of scissors, also found at the crime scene, and fitted in with Pocock’s claim that this had been a suicide pact. He had killed Constance and then tried to kill himself, but his nerve had failed and he had decided to hand himself over to the police instead. Nevertheless, by his own admission, Pocock was responsible for Constance’s death and so was charged with murder.

  The inquest on Constance Boothby opened on 6 September, before the coroner, Mr John Lancelot Martin. Only two witnesses were called. The first of these, Arthur Dobbs, the girl’s father, gave evidence of identification. He was followed into the witness box by Dr Eric Gardner, who had conducted the postmortem, and told the court that the cause of death was manual strangulation. The proceedings were then immediately adjourned sine die.

  Pocock’s trial took place at Reading on 11 October 1946 and one of the first witnesses was Edward Albert Boothby, the estranged husband of the victim. He testified that his wife had been born on 17 June 1917 and they had married on 4 August 1941. They had lived in Edgware and there were no children to the union.

  On 11 June 1945, Constance had left Edward and moved back to her parents’ house. It was true that she had written to him, in September of that same year, to ask him for a divorce but they had not discussed the matter in detail and he had certainly never refused to grant her request.

  Details of the first time Constance had met the man who would eventually take her life were given by Constance’s sister, Edith May Dobbs. Edith also lived at the public house owned by her parents and she told the court that she and her sister often went to the Olympia Dance Hall situated on London Street, in Reading. It was there, about a month before she died, that Constance met an airman named Mick. That airman was, of course, Pocock, and Mick was his nickname.

  On 1 September, the day that Constance died, Edith went to see her at the shop at around 5.20pm. Some twenty minutes later, Pocock arrived and the three of them talked as Constance cashed up. They all left the shop together, at 6.00pm and went to the Vaudeville Cinema on Broad Street. They didn’t see a film, though, but had tea in the café there. Edith left them at 6.30pm and at that time they seemed happy enough in each other’s company. Edith gave one last piece of information to the court: she did not recognise the writing on the letter as that of her sister.

  Broad Street where Pocock went with Constance Boothby on the day he killed her. Author’s Collection

  Another view of Broad Street. Author’s Collection

  Constance’s parents, Arthur and Lilian Frizwide Elizabeth Dobbs, both gave statements that they did not recognise the writing on the letter as that of their daughter. Lilian, however, did point out that Constance had been ambidextrous and could write with either hand, though she usually used her left.

  The disputed handwriting was also referred to by Lionel George Douglas Burnham, the owner of the shop where Constance had been found dead. He confirmed that she had worked for him since 9 October, 1945 but was unable to say that the writing was Constance’s. Lionel’s wife, Dorothy Ethel Burnham, was also unable to identify it.

  Violet Trussler was a waitress in the café at the cinema and she confirmed that Constance, a woman she knew as the ‘girl from the sweet shop’, had come into the café on 1 September with another woman and an airman in uniform. She had later picked out Pocock at an identity parade.

  Vera Grant was another waitress and she confirmed Violet’s testimony, and said that Constance and the airman seemed to be quite friendly together. Vera too had picked out Pocock at the parade.

  There were two other witnesses from that same café. Florence Gosnell, another waitress, had also seen Pocock and Constance together and had also made a positive identification at the parade. Finally, Marjorie Marshall was the cashier on the till. She too had seen an airman with Constance but failed to point out Pocock as that airman.

  After leaving the café, Pocock and Constance had gone to the saloon bar at the Jack of Both Sides public house, arriving there at some time between 7.15pm and 7.30pm. This was confirmed by Jacynth Deirdrie Gardner, who had sat at a table with an airman and a young lady. Miss Gardner remembered that the airman had three stripes on his arm. He drank whisky whilst the girl he was with drank gin and orange. They left together at 10.00pm and were very friendly with each other.r />
  Constable Haunton confirmed that he was in Friar Street, just passing the Harris Arcade, when Pocock approached him and said: ‘I have just killed somebody. It was at 54 Friar Street, Reading and the person was a girl known as Connie Boothby.’

  Constable Sawyer said that he had been at the Central police station when he received a call to take the ambulance to Friar Street where a body had been reported. Later, constable Hacker assisted him in forcing open the front door.

  Pocock persisted in his claim that he and Constance had been involved in a suicide pact. They had had a pleasant night out together and after leaving the public house, had gone to the shop where they had sex together in the back room. Afterwards, they had discussed their predicament and since Constance was unable to get a divorce, it seemed that they just couldn’t be together. They agreed that the only way out was to end their lives. He had then strangled her, after she had written the note to her parents, and then tried to stab himself to death, but failed. He was responsible for Constance’s death but this was a case of manslaughter, not murder.

  In the event, the jury did not agree and found Pocock guilty as charged, but they did add a recommendation to mercy. The law, however, allowed for only one possible sentence and Pocock was condemned to death. He was then moved to Oxford prison to await execution.

  A subsequent appeal having failed, Pocock’s death sentence was confirmed, but in fact he was to avoid the hangman’s noose. On 23 October 1946, the sentence was commuted to one of life imprisonment and Pocock was removed from the condemned cell.

  CHAPTER 10

  A Blue Silk Scarf George Russell 1948

  Kathleen Cronin was a nurse at Maidenhead Hospital but by May 1948, she had decided on a slight change of career. Kathleen had come to the conclusion that she might well be happier working as a housekeeper or maid for an elderly lady or gentleman and, as a result, had registered with an agency. That agency had on their books an eighty-nine-year-old lady, who lived alone and was in need of a maid to attend to her needs. So it was that at around 9.00pm on Saturday 29 May 1948, Kathleen Cronin called at Wynford.

  Wynford was a rambling and rather run down house, situated in its own grounds in Ray Park Avenue, Maidenhead. It was in this somewhat dilapidated twenty-two-room house that Minnie Freeman Lee lived alone and, by all accounts, this would not be an easy position for Miss Cronin for, apparently, Mrs Lee was a rather cantankerous old lady who treated people rather badly.

  Kathleen Cronin knocked on the front door and rang the bell. Mrs Lee was known to be rather deaf and for that reason the doorbell was very loud. However, despite ringing many times, Kathleen did not receive a reply and there seemed to be no sign of life in the house. By the time Kathleen left, it was close to 9.30pm.

  A few days later, at 9.30am on Tuesday 1 June, the local milkman was about to leave another pint at Wynford, when he noticed that there were three bottles still on the front doorstep. Two were completely full and the third was almost full, due to the fact that the foil top had been removed, presumably by birds, who had then consumed some of the contents. There was also a folded and apparently unread copy of the Evening Standard, dated 31 May.

  Concerned that Mrs Lee might have been taken ill, the milkman walked into the badly overgrown back garden where he found Arthur Thomas Hilsdon, who worked in the grounds. Asked if he had seen the old lady recently, Hilsdon replied that he had not. He too then went to the front door and rang the bell a few times. When there was no reply, Hilsdon telephoned for the police.

  It was 9.50am by the time Constable George Ernest Langton arrived at Wynford, with Mr Kenneth Ruffe Thomas, a magistrate’s clerk and Mrs Lee’s solicitor. The two men rang the bell and, receiving no reply, went around the back of the house. There they noticed that one of the windows, although closed and locked, was rather insecure so they forced it open and entered the house.

  It was through these windows that Constable Langton gained entrance to the house. The National Archives

  One of the untidy rooms inside the house. The National Archives

  Another view of the same room showing the filthy state the house was in. The National Archives

  Every room inside Wynford was in this same chaotic state. The National Archives

  The back garden at Wynford, the house where Minnie Freeman Lee met her death. The National Archives

  Every room was in a filthy state and had obviously not been cleaned or tidied for years. The two men passed from room to room, but there was no sign of Mrs Lee. Unsure what to do next, Constable Langton picked up the telephone, rang his station and reported what he had discovered to Superintendent Benstead. Even as the constable was on the telephone, Mr Thomas noticed a large leather trunk, fastened with straps.

  Thinking that there might be a clue as to where Mrs Lee might have gone, Thomas unfastened the straps and lifted the lid of the trunk. Inside he saw what appeared to be nothing but a collection of old clothes but when he removed one or two of the topmost items he saw a woman’s body beneath. Mrs Minnie Freeman Lee had been found.

  The trunk in which Minnie’s body was discovered. The National Archives

  Mrs Lee’s arms were tied tightly behind her back and her legs had been bent at the knees so that she would fit inside the trunk. Her face and neck were covered with a towel which had been tied tightly around her. She was, quite obviously, dead and Constable Langton immediately informed the superintendent of this fact.

  Superintendent Benstead and other officers were soon on the scene. Detective Sergeant Cyril Arthur Warren made a search of the premises and noted that, in addition to the milk bottles and newspaper on the front step, there was also an unopened letter behind the door. This was postmarked London SW1 and was dated 31 May 1948.

  Warren also noted that Minnie’s body was fully clothed, apart from her shoes, and her false teeth were still in her mouth. He took measurements of the trunk and recorded them as three feet nine inches, by two feet, by one foot six inches. Although all of the rooms were in the same filthy state there were signs that drawers had been pulled out and ransacked. It appeared that this had been a robbery, which had ended in murder.

  The trunk opened. Minnie’s body can be seen inside. The National Archives

  It was obviously important to determine, as precisely as possible, when Mrs Lee had been attacked. Various neighbours and local tradesmen were spoken to and this led officers to interview Edwin Stanley Tebbutt.

  Mister Tebbutt ran an electrical goods shop from premises at 7 Guinions Road, High Wycombe, and he reported that Mrs Lee had called at his shop at 3.30pm on 29 May. She had told him that an electric boiling ring she had at home was broken and demanded that he come back with her, immediately, to repair it. Mr Tebbutt pointed out that he was alone in the shop and couldn’t simply close it up to attend to her request. Finally, after much argument, Mrs Lee purchased a new ring and allowed Mr Tebbutt the luxury of coming to fit it after he had closed the shop at the end of the business day.

  At 6.20pm that same night, Mr Tebbutt had gone to Wynford. He told the police that upon going inside he found that the place stank so badly that he had to light a cigarette. He fitted the new ring and repaired a rather badly fitted electric plug whilst Mrs Lee chatted to him. At one point she said that she had bought some salmon for her dinner but complained about the six shillings she had had to pay. He left the house after some thirty minutes or so, pleased to be out in the fresh air again.

  This was the last sighting of Mrs Lee alive and was a most important piece of evidence. It must be remembered that when Kathleen Cronin called at Wynford at 9.00pm that same evening, there was no reply to her constant ringing of the doorbell. At this stage, then police firmly believed that Minnie Freeman Lee had been attacked some time between 6.50pm and 9.00pm on Saturday 29 May.

  Back at the house, an important clue was discovered. Amongst the items scattered about the floor was an old jewellery box. This was dusted for fingerprints and a partial print was discovered. This was soon identified
as belonging to a habitual criminal named George Russell.

  Russell was certainly well known to the police. He had twenty-one convictions, the first being dated 16 November 1927 and the last being 10 October 1947. He had been to prison twenty times for offences including stealing money, housebreaking, shopbreaking, larceny, malicious damage and an assault upon the police. His description was now widely circulated and forces throughout the country were told to be on the lookout for him.

  Eventually, on 6 June, Russell was traced to the Ostler Hills Casual Hospital at St Albans. There, at 3.45am, he was arrested by Sergeant RA Porter who told him he would be taken to the police station for interview. It was there that he was searched and a list of his belongings made. That list read: three shillings and six pence in silver coin, an Army discharge book, a shaving brush, a safety razor, a table knife, two combs, a handkerchief and a blue silk scarf. That last item would put George Russell on trial for his life.

  The police list of Russell’s belongings. The words ‘A blue silk scarf’ have been added later. The National Archives

  Meanwhile, Russell made a full statement, detailing his movements. In this he claimed that he had spent a couple of days at the Henley Institution, a hostel, which he left on Friday 28 May. From there he had gone to Maidenhead, where did some gardening work for a woman who later complained about the five shillings he charged her. He then walked into the town where he met James Stock, who was working at Wynford. The two fell into conversation and that night Russell stayed with Stock and his wife in their lodgings.