Blog 44: 1912 Eastbourne Sussex - The murder of Inspector Arthur Walls

The Life and Death of Inspector Walls

Arthur Walls was born in Falmer, Sussex, in October 1867 to Timothy Walls, a bricklayer's labourer, and Harriet, the daughter of Jesse Heathfield, a painter and glazer from Heathfield, Sussex, who had moved to Falmer before Harriet's birth. Arthur was the fourth of seven children—three boys and four girls—born to Timothy and Harriet between 1860 and 1876.

Arthur began working as a shepherd at the age of 14, but by 1891, at age 24, he had moved out of his family home and was boarding on Eshton Road in Eastbourne, Sussex, while working as a policeman.

On April 20th, 1893, at Christ Church in Eastbourne, Sussex, he married Emily, a 21-year-old daughter of Shem Akehurst, a first-class police constable in East Sussex who had been promoted to an officer for the NSPCC. Her father and sister Edith served as witnesses at their wedding.

They then celebrated Emily's father's new appointment as the NSPCC inspector in October.

On March 3rd, 1894, they welcomed their first son, Archie, into the world, then their daughter, Clara Lethia, was born on February 9th, 1896, but later that year, the family experienced bereavement, and on December 1, they buried Arthur's father at St. Laurence's Church in Falmer. He died on November 28th from cancer of the face and exhaustion at Falmer Hospital at the age of 54. After his death, Arthur's mother moved in with his eldest sister, Fanny, in Keymer Urban, Sussex.

In June 1898, they celebrated Arthur's appointment as a sergeant for the Sussex Borough. However, their happiness was short-lived again, as Arthur's mother passed away from pneumonia and other complications on October 13th. An inquest into her death was held on October 18th, and she was buried alongside her husband at St. Laurence's Church in Falmer, Sussex.

The following bereavement came on May 31st, 1902, when Emily's father died from hypertrophic heart disease. Her mother then moved into 'Falmer', 40 Cavendish Avenue, Eastbourne, with Arthur, Emily, and her sisters Edith (41) and Lethia (34), who remained unmarried.

By 1911, Arthur had been promoted to inspector, responsible for parades and patrolling areas along the coastline.

Emily's mother and sisters were still living with them on Cavendish Avenue. Their son Archie, at 17, was working as a junior clerk. At the same time, their daughter, 15, was employed as an assistant in a draper's shop alongside Emily's sister, Lethia.

Countess Sztaray resided at 6 South Cliff Avenue. On October 9th, 1912, as a driver arrived to pick her up, he noticed a man on her balcony. Although he didn't say anything initially, he informed her once they drove up the road. The Countess insisted they turn around, and they returned to her home. She went inside and called the police.

Arthur responded to the call and went immediately to the Countess's residence. He spotted the man on the balcony of the ivy-covered veranda over the porch. Arthur shouted for the man to come down; a moment later, a shot was fired. Arthur stepped back from the gate, but soon after, a second shot was fired, and he fell to the ground.

A brown trilby hat was found near where Arthur lay, suggesting the man had checked Arthur's condition before fleeing the scene. The hat was wet from dripping water off the balcony, and some had landed on Arthur's face. The inside leather band of the hat bore the inscription "Kelvington No 56 H.O 62 8/6." Witnesses reported seeing the killer running from the scene up Silverdale Road, and a bareheaded man was spotted walking hurriedly through Willington by PC Crosby.

The search for the murderer continued throughout the night, with three units of the police force engaged in scouring the county. Plainclothes officers stopped men to question them and searched all barns, outhouses, and other places where a person could be concealed. They even inspected railway trucks and carriages thoroughly as far as Lewes.

There was suspicion that the murderer was connected to several burglaries that had occurred in the Eastbourne area during the previous fortnight.

Two Scotland Yard inspectors arrived to assist in capturing the killer and first proceeded to the scene of the crime. The countess's house was between two gas lamps, leading a would-be burglar to believe he was safe from observation. He may not have been aware that someone had spotted him when the police were alerted.

PC Crosby had seen a man walking hurriedly, but he had been accounted for and was not the suspect. However, the man they were hunting had been seen after 8 o'clock on Cornfield Terrace, and from there, the trail went cold. A message came through from Berwick Sussex about a man cycling through without a hat and with his cycle lights off.

The following day, after word of the murder spread, there was widespread anger among the public. Arthur was a well-liked man, and not one person among them would hesitate to hand the assassin over to face justice if they were to discover his identity. The police made several appeals to the public.

One appeal was regarding the hat, which was considered purchased in the Eastbourne area. Another request for information pertained to two men and an older woman who were seen between 2 and 10 PM in Eastbourne on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. It was believed that the man seen running away was connected to them.

A gentleman who knew Inspector Arthur Walls provided insights for a news reporter: "Inspector Walls was perhaps the most popular local police officer. His demeanour towards colleagues and the public was always genial and kind. A native of Falmer, he sentimentally named his house on Cavendish Avenue after his birthplace. Before joining the police force, he worked on a farm in Falmer. He subsequently joined the East Sussex Police Force and, shortly thereafter, became associated with the Eastbourne Borough Police. He quickly rose through the ranks due to his unwavering dedication to duty and ability to easily handle emergencies. The Inspector leaves behind a widow and a son and daughter, with his son employed in the Corporation offices."

At daybreak on October 10th, Detective Inspector Parker and other officers promptly arrived at the crime scene. They began a systematic search of the small garden in front of the house, as well as the 4-foot balcony above the door, looking for any evidence of footprints or fingerprints that could help convict the killer if he were apprehended.

A large crowd gathered to observe their efforts, and soon, detectives from Scotland Yard joined them. It was revealed that this was the third attempted burglary at the countess's house within the last three weeks. Although this attempt was made alone, it was suspected to be connected to a larger gang of thieves. Four men of suspicious character had been seen in the town. Still, they managed to evade capture while committing illegal acts.

The area became a site of curiosity, attracting crowds of onlookers, including photographers who stood across from the house. At the same time, Chief Constable Major Teal, Inspector Pratt, Detective Inspector Parker, and the two Scotland Yard detectives conducted their investigations.

The inquest occurred on Friday afternoon, October 11th, before Mr G. Vere Benson (Coroner) at the Town Hall in Eastbourne. George Nicholson was elected as the Foreman.

The Jury consisted of Mr Herbert Pavely, Mr Lachlan McLachlan, Mr Arthur Hutson, Mr Percy James Marshall, Mr Charles F Tilbury, Mr Percy Kimpton, and Mr Elywne C. Arnold. Mr William. J. Stonham, Mr Alfred Hall, Mr George Dunford, Mr William Henry Rowe, Mr Hamilton Davey. Mr Albert Cain and Mr Edward Collins.

After being taken to the mortuary to view the body, the Coroner delivered his opening remarks:

"Mr Foreman and gentlemen, it is your sad and serious duty to inquire into the circumstances surrounding the death of Inspector Arthur Walls. I need not tell you much about him, as he is likely known to most of you and was highly respected. His death resulted from a presumed crime that is serious; however, the most alarming is that it was committed apparently without provocation. It was a very deliberate act to disable him, and the offender must face the consequences of having killed him. I propose to hear evidence of identification and, if time permits, to take eyewitness statements. You will understand that disclosing all evidence in public is not always appropriate; this could mean revealing details to the assassin. I understand from the Chief Constable that there is no reason to be dissatisfied with the progress being made in the difficult task of tracing the murderer. We all hope he will be in custody by the next sitting. Of course, I cannot say whether he will be before you."

The first testimony was given by Archie Walls, 18, of Cavendish Avenue. He stated that he was the son of the deceased Inspector and worked as a clerk. His father was 44 years old as of last September. He held the position of Inspector of Police, with a special duty to oversee the affairs of the Parades. He last saw his father alive on the morning of October 9th, when he appeared to be in good health.

Next, PC Luck stated that he received a telephone message from the Countess on Wednesday evening at 7:30. The message was as follows:

"Can you send a constable at once to 6 South Cliff Avenue? A man is lying on the porch in front of the door, and we think he will try to get in through the bedroom window."

PC Luck called Inspector Walls at the office on the Grand Parade and asked him to attend the scene. He replied, "Yes, I will go at once."

The Countess called back about 3 or 4 minutes later, asking if anyone was attending. PC Luck informed her that Inspector Walls was on his way. A few minutes later, she called again, and he told her that Inspector Walls must be near the location by now. About a minute later, she called once more and said, "They are shooting him; they have killed my coachman." PC Luck informed Inspector Pratt, who left for the scene on his bicycle. The Countess called back shortly after Inspector Pratt left and reported that a murder had been committed and requested that someone else be sent by bicycle. He told her that he had already sent Inspector Pratt, and it was then left in his hands.

The Foreman asked, "Was it the same person who called you each time?"

PC Luck replied, "Yes, it was a lady's voice."

Next, Dr. James Adams testified:

"I first saw the body on Thursday afternoon in the Town Hall Mortuary. I conducted a post-mortem examination and found a bullet wound between the second and third ribs on the left side. There were no other external injuries. I found a wound on the edge of the left lung and, upon examining the heart, discovered two wounds—one on the upper side and one on the lower side. This indicated that the bullet had entered the upper part of the heart. I also found that the bullet had lodged in the under surface of the right kidney after penetrating the diaphragm of the liver."

The Coroner asked, "Do you produce the bullet?"

Dr. Adams replied, "Yes, sir." The witness then handed a small bullet to the Coroner, who said, "It must be carefully preserved so that the jury may see it." Dr Adams continued, "The direction of the bullet must have been downward, inward, and then backward."

The Coroner inquired, "In your opinion, would the shot have been fired from a man standing?"

Dr. Adams answered, "No, it must have been fired from above and to his left. This wound caused his death."

The Coroner asked, "You indicated that the bullet passed right through the heart, correct?"

Dr. Adams confirmed, "Yes, and it caused almost instantaneous death."

The Foreman asked, "Could you tell the jury the distance from which the shot was fired?"

Dr. Adams replied, "No, I cannot."

The Foreman then asked, "Was the officer facing the murderer?"

Dr. Adams responded, "I think he must have been."

Dr. Adams concluded by stating that he found a large quantity of blood in the chest.

Mr. G.B.N. Flanagan, a doctor who lives at 3 South Cliff Avenue, was the next to testify:

"My house is directly opposite the Countess's residence. On Wednesday night at around 7:50 PM, I was at home having dinner when I heard two shots. At the time, I thought the sounds resulted from the car's exhaust, so I didn't immediately investigate the noise.

About two minutes later, someone rang my doorbell and informed me of an accident. When I went outside, I found the Inspector lying on his back in the road. Several people were present. The Inspector was alive when I first saw him, but he died shortly afterwards. He was unconscious the entire time and was unable to answer any questions. I noticed he had a wound in his chest, and his shirt had already been bared. The wound was slightly above his heart. The body was positioned about two feet to the right of the curb and roughly three or four yards below 6 South Cliff Avenue. Initially, there was an impression that Walls had committed suicide. I asked others present if a revolver could be found nearby, and while searching for it, they discovered a hat."

The Coroner: "I don't intend to present the hat, but would you recognise it again?"

Witness: "Yes, I believe I would. I should also mention that the Avenue is not very well lit."

The Coroner: "With a wound through his heart, you wouldn't expect him to speak?"

Witness: "No, he was either in too much pain or unconscious; he only groaned."

Next was the Coachman, David Potter, 25, from Hoad Road:

He stated that he was ordered to go to 6 South Cliff Avenue on Wednesday night and arrived there with a single-horse brougham at 7:15 PM.

"I had been waiting at the door for about five minutes when I saw a man come out of the house. I now know he is the Countess's hairdresser. I noticed a slight movement on the balcony above the front door as he exited. At first, I did not pay much attention to the movement, but when I saw a second movement, I realised it was a man's head and shoulders."

The Coroner asked, "Could you tell if the man was wearing a hat?"

The witness replied, "No, I could not. I did not take particular notice."

The witness continued, "A few minutes later, the Countess came out and remarked, 'Potter, you are a stranger. You haven't been here for a long time. Drive me to the Burlington.' Then I drove down the Avenue into Silverdale Road. The Countess had a friend with her. When I got to Compton Street, I pulled up and told her what I had seen. She ordered me to drive back to the house. I did, and she went inside, leaving her friend on the pavement. I presume she entered the house to telephone the police. I again saw the outline of the man lying on top of the balcony, and I waited for some minutes. Then I saw Inspector Walls coming down the street from the top. When he was nearly opposite me, I whistled at him. He asked, 'Is this No. 6?' I replied, 'Yes,' and he came across and went to the front of the house, entering through the gate. He spoke to someone in the hall from the doorway. I believe it was the Countess he talked to, but I did not hear what was said. Then the lady came forward from the house and said to him, 'There is a man over my door.' The Inspector stepped back off the steps and shaded his eyes with his hand. He looked up at the balcony and spoke to the man, saying, 'Here, old chap, come down.' The man then moved as if he were sitting up. The Inspector slipped to the right-hand side of the door as if to receive him. Then I heard the report of a firearm. I could not see anything except a flash. The flash came from the edge of the balcony. The Inspector dropped into a stooping position and staggered toward the gate. My horse then became restless. I took the brake off, whipped it up, and went up the hill."

The Coroner asked, "Were you obliged to do that?"

The witness replied, "Yes, sir, for the safety of those I was in charge of. I could not manage the horse otherwise."

The witness continued, "When I was halfway between No. 6 and the top of the street, I heard a second report. When I got to the top of the street, I saw a man standing there. I said to him, 'There's a murder down the road. Keep an eye out and see if anyone comes this way.' I then went to South Cliff on the parade, shouting at anyone around to attract their attention. When I arrived at the cab stand, a cabman named Plumb approached me, and I told him what had happened. He then got on the box with me, and we drove down Silverdale Road to South Cliff Avenue and back to the house. By then, there were about four or five people there—two men and three women—with the deceased. I saw the body of the Inspector lying in the road. I did not see the doctor arrive."

The Coroner asked, "Do you have any reason for not saying something when you first saw this man on the balcony?"

Witness: "Well, I thought it was best to keep quiet."

The Coroner continued, "Didn't it occur to you that you were leaving him to do what he wanted by driving away?"

Witness: "I only drove away to inform the lady."

Answering further questions, the witness said that when the first shot was fired, the Inspector was standing among the shrubs near the door. He did not see the deceased fall but only stagger. He did not know if this was an attempt to dodge out of the way, but he thought the Inspector had been struck. He heard the second shot as he was driving away.

The Coroner asked, "Were you unable to control your horse?"

Witness: "I could not control her there."

The Coroner questioned, "Was she running away?"

Witness: "No, sir."

The Coroner further asked, "Couldn't you have stopped to give some help?"

Witness: "I thought it was best to go on and get as much help as possible."

The foreman asked, "In your opinion, was it the first or second shot that killed the officer?"

Witness: "I think it was the first."

He replied to a juror's question, "The Inspector did not say anything when he staggered."

Another juror interjected, "What caused your horse to become restless when help was needed?"

The witness explained, "The report of the shot."

Juror: "Can you say why it was necessary to whip up the horse?"

Witness: "Because my carriage might have tipped over."

Answering further questions, the witness stated that the drive-around took him about two minutes. When he got back, he did not see the burglar. He did not know the man he shouted to at the top of the street; he was a stranger. He had not described this man to the police.

The next witness was Percy Moss, a cab proprietor residing at 169 Seaside. He stated that at approximately 7:40 on Wednesday night, he was riding his bicycle along the front towards South Cliff when he heard a horse coming down South Cliff faster than usual. He rode towards the brougham, and the driver said, “Come to South Cliff Avenue at once. Police shot.”

Moss immediately rode to the Countess’s house and saw the Inspector lying in the road. There was no one else around. Although the Inspector was unconscious, he turned his head towards Moss. Moss then noticed a servant from a house opposite and instructed her to call Dr. Flanagan, who arrived in under two minutes.

At this stage, the Coroner indicated that he had taken all the evidence he intended to at that moment. He noted that if anyone was arrested in connection with the matter, the adjourned sitting might be lengthy; however, it would likely be brief if no one were arrested. He proposed a fortnight as a convenient date, and on behalf of the Chief Constable, Inspector Pratt requested that the sitting be scheduled for the afternoon of Tuesday, October 29th, at 2:30. Both the Coroner and the jury agreed to this.

The Foreman stated, “On behalf of the jury, most of whom personally knew the late officer, I would like to express our deep regret for his untimely death. I sincerely observe that the town has lost a good citizen, and the police have lost a faithful comrade.” Applause erupted from the back of the courtroom.

The Coroner replied, “That sentiment will be echoed by everyone in Eastbourne who had the opportunity to know him.”

On the afternoon of the inquest, a suspect was taken into custody. He was described as a 33-year-old South African staying in Eastbourne and leaving for London on Thursday, October 10th. This information was privately communicated to Chief Constable Major Teale that evening, and following his instructions, Detective Inspector Parker, Chief Constable Bower, and Detective Sergeant Hayman left Eastbourne on Friday morning. They apprehended the suspect by that afternoon and brought him back to Eastbourne in the evening.

News of the arrest reached Eastbourne, causing considerable excitement and prompting people to gather at the station in hopes of seeing the accused. The train was late due to fog; the 2:23 p.m. train didn't arrive until 2:58. The Stationmaster, Mr W. Holdaway, stopped the train so the carriage could pull up beside the awaiting cab. Local police walked among the spectators, looking for anyone with cameras, determined to prevent photographs of the suspect from being taken.

When the train finally arrived at the station, porters and other officials rushed to create space between the cab and the carriage. The blinds of the carriage were drawn, with a reserved sign attached to the window. Travellers disembarked from the carriages before Mr Holdaway unlocked the door to the suspect's carriage. The door swung open, and Chief Inspector Bower of Scotland Yard stepped out backwards, followed by the suspect, who identified himself as Charles Williams but appeared to have many aliases. A blue cloth covered his head and shoulders, concealing his features. He was handcuffed and wore a fawn coat, looking well-dressed in smart, dark trousers and polished leather boots. Detective Inspector Parker followed him, who quickly rushed him into the cab and then drove off rapidly to the police station on Grove Road.

Outside the police station, a crowd had gathered, and Inspector Tugwell was at the gate, ready to sound the alarm when the taxi approached. This prompted about 20 police officers to rush up the yard's slope, pushing the crowd back to form two lines across the pavement. The prisoner was then ushered into the station as quickly as possible. The police officers left behind, including Detective Inspector Hayman of Scotland Yard, began unloading the luggage, which included three portmanteaus and a violin case.

It was decided not to charge the man formally on that day, and instead, they would wait until Monday. No witnesses would be called to the police station to identify the prisoner until he appeared before the bench. In contrast, the police continued their extensive inquiries to gather the chain of circumstantial evidence.

The Mayor of Eastbourne, Councillor R.T. Thornton, appealed to the public to support a fund for Arthur's widow, Emily.

On Monday, October 14th, at the Police Court, Mr. Arthur Mayhewe (chairman) presided. Also present were the Mayor, Major H.P. Molineux, Councillor Stephen N. Fox, Colonel F.J. Pierson, Alderman C.O. Brien Harding, Mr. C.W. Bolton, Colonel Bowes Mein, Councillor John Duke, and Mr. E.H. Mydellton-Gavey. The court was crowded with spectators.

The man, now identifying himself as John Williams and of no fixed abode, was charged with unlawfully, wilfully, and with malice aforethought killing and slaying Arthur Walls on October 9th.

Chief Constable Major E.J.J. Teale addressed the bench: "I am sure you will realise this is an important case and, in fact, a serious matter. It is only a comparatively short time since the murder was committed and exhaustive inquiries must be made. The matter has been referred to the Public Prosecutor. I shall request a remand after presenting evidence of the prisoner's arrest. I may add that I hope you will allow no cameras, snapshots, or sketches to be taken in court."

The Chairman, Mr A. Mayhewe, responded: "I entirely support the request of the Chief Constable, and I hope no one disregards what has been said. If any snapshots are attempted, the cameras will be confiscated, which includes any sketches or similar items."

Detective Inspector Leonard Parker testified:

"At 1:16 p.m. on Friday, October 11th, I was present when Inspector Bower, Sergeant Hayman, and other officers from Scotland Yard arrested the prisoner at Moorfields in London. The following day, October 12th, at 10:45 a.m., I saw the prisoner at Cannon Row Station in London. I said to him, 'I am Detective Parker of the Eastbourne County Borough Police; I shall charge you with killing and murdering Arthur Walls, Inspector of the Eastbourne County Borough Police, at South Cliff Avenue, Eastbourne, on the evening of October 9th.' The prisoner replied, 'Very well.' We conveyed the prisoner to Eastbourne with Chief Inspector Bower and Detective Sergeant Hayman.

In the cab to Victoria Station, the prisoner addressed Chief Inspector Bower and said, 'I want you to do this for me. If you inquire at the station, you will find I went there to catch a train just after five on Thursday. I just missed it and caught another one about twenty minutes later; I paid the excess fare on a third-class ticket. It would have been a big chap, the ticket collector; he must remember me. I left quite openly.'

On the train to Eastbourne, the prisoner repeated what he had said about leaving Eastbourne by train and added, 'If I had done such a thing, do you think I would leave Eastbourne Station quite openly, knowing it would be watched and every person scrutinised? I was wearing a frock coat and a silk hat. If I had done that, do you think I would have the audacity to lie on that small piece of board while the Countess was dressing? Wouldn't it have been easier to watch the lights go down and the lady leave before getting in?'

The prisoner also remarked, 'I see you have my luggage; there's nothing in there but clothes and a case, but no gun.'

He also stated, 'On Wednesday evening, I went to the picture palace with my wife to see Dante. There was a fellow there who sang a song, but I don't remember.'

Major Teale then requested a remand until the following week, which was granted, and the prisoner was removed from the dock.

Arthur Walls's funeral occurred on Wednesday, October 16th, at Ocklynge Cemetery in Eastbourne. Among the many wreaths was one inscribed: 'In remembrance of a gallant officer, with sincere sympathy, from Countess A.F.B. Sztaray.' Contingents of police from London, Hove, Hastings, Lewes, and other areas attended the event.

The coffin bore the inscription: 'Police Inspector Arthur Walls, who was shot dead in the execution of his duty, October 9th, 1912, aged forty-four years.' (He was actually 45 when he died.)

The police court resumed on Saturday, October 26th, at the Town Hall, and the prisoner was brought over from Lewes in the early morning hours. Public interest in the case had not diminished, and the court was packed with spectators.

Mr Mayhew presided over the bench, with the magistrates present being Sir Alfred Dent, K.C.M.G; Alderman E. Duke; Major H. P. Molineux; Mr C. A. Leatham; Councillor C. W. Bolton; Alderman H. W. Keay; Colonel J. F. Pierson; Councillor J. Duke; Mr H. D. Farnell; Mr Thomas Clarke; and Mr E. H. Myddelton-Gavey.

Mr. Cecil Whiteley, barrister, appeared for the prosecution on behalf of the Director of Public Prosecutions.

The first witness called was Mrs. Florence Fuller, a widow. She stated, "On October 9th, I lived at No. 6, South Cliff Avenue, with the Countess Sztaray.

''There was one maid in the house, in addition to the Countess and me. Potter came with the brougham, and we left the house. In Silverdale Road, the coachman stopped and spoke to us, and as a result of what he said, we drove back to the house. Upon arriving at the house, I exited the brougham after the Countess and stood outside while she went indoors. I noticed a dark mass on the ledge above the front door. I saw the outline of a man's shoulders and head, with his face turned towards the house. The place where he was lying was very dark. I stood on the pavement for five minutes, and the Countess called me in. I stayed in the hall while the Countess went upstairs. After a few minutes, I heard Potter's voice, followed by another man's voice. I went to the door and saw the Inspector, with whom I spoke while pointing upwards. The Inspector came forward and looked up, shading his eyes with his hand. He addressed someone above, saying, 'Now then, my man, just you come down.' The Inspector stepped to the right-hand side of the doorway, where there were some low bushes. I then saw a very bright flash and heard a gunshot. The Inspector put his right hand over his left breast and staggered sideways into the bushes as if he was going to fall. He took two steps forward, and I thought he would shut the front door, but he went outside again. That was the last I saw of him as I went upstairs to the Countess. Just as I reached the top, I heard another shot. The flash came from the corner nearest to Silverdale Road. There were only a few seconds between the first and second shots."

Lilian Maud Chaplin, 21, parlourmaid to Countess Sztaray, testified:

She said she went upstairs after the Countess and Mrs Fuller left on October 9th. Shortly thereafter, she heard the brougham stop and the bell ring. The witness mentioned hearing a shot as she entered the kitchen, followed by a second report a few seconds later.

Ellen Johns, a house parlour maid at No. 7 Silverdale Road, testified:

After serving two courses at dinner on the evening of October 9th, she walked along the bottom of South Cliff Avenue. When she reached the corner, she saw a figure of a man on the pavement about halfway up. He was staggering onto the road, where he eventually fell over. The witness approached him and saw a man coming down on the opposite side of the road, to whom she shouted. The witness picked up a uniform cap from the side of the road. She described how she and the other man turned the Inspector over, who was lying face down. After the other man arrived, the witness returned to No. 7, Silverdale Road, the residence of the Chief Constable, Major Teale.

Percy Moss, a bicycle proprietor from 169 Seaside, testified:

On the evening of October 9th, he was riding his bicycle toward South Cliff Avenue when he saw the injured Inspector. He went to assist him by loosening the tunic and collar, discovering that the Inspector's shirt was soaked with blood. After a bicycle lamp was brought, Moss noticed a mark on the injured man's left breast. The Inspector was breathing heavily and died shortly after the arrival of the doctor. Moss also looked around the curb and found a hat outside No. 4, which he handed to Inspector Pratt.

The hat that was then produced in court was indeed the one he picked up.

At this point, the prisoner handed Mr Whiteley a folded blue paper, which was passed to the Chairman. After reviewing the communication, Mr. Mayhew stated, "The case can proceed ordinarily. We will consider this afterwards."

The court then heard testimony from PC Luck:

''Inspector Pratt said he arrived at No. 6 South Cliff Avenue around 7:45 p.m. He met the Chief Constable and walked up the road where Inspector Walls was lying dead. The body was covered with a rug, and he called the Town Hall. The ambulance arrived later, and Inspector Pratt supervised the body transfer to the mortuary''.

Dr Flanagan testified regarding his role in the incident and the post-mortem conducted by Dr Adams, the police surgeon.

The court then adjourned for lunch.

When the proceedings resumed at 2:00 p.m., Eiley Daniel, a widow residing at No. 6 Bolton Road, took the stand:

"On Wednesday, October 2nd, I rented rooms to 'M. and Mrs. Seymour.' The prisoner in court is 'Mr. Seymour.' The agreed price was £1 a week, and I requested a deposit of £1. The prisoner paid me £1 and took the rooms for one week. He then went to the station to collect his luggage, including a small leather trunk, a fibre or leather box, and a violin case. When the prisoner came to collect the keys, he wore blue serge trousers, a grey overcoat with a strap at the back, and a black bowler hat. The lady accompanying him was wearing a light, possibly fawn, coat. The prisoner did not provide his name until the following morning when he told me it was 'Mr. Seymour.' They usually retired to their room early, the latest around 9:30 p.m. One morning, Mrs. Seymour mentioned they had attended a cinematograph show to see Dante. During their stay, they did not have lunch or dinner at the house, except on Sundays, when they had a midday meal. I observed the prisoner leaving and returning to the house on several occasions. I do not recall seeing him wearing any hat other than the bowler. The couple departed on Wednesday, October 9th, between 11:45 a.m. and 12:15 p.m., and an outside porter came to collect their luggage. The leather case had some initials, but I only remember the last one, "M." Before leaving, Mr Seymour indicated they were going toHastings,s but later mentioned they would go to London to stay with friends. I noticed a white cardboard hat box in his hand when they left. Initially, the box was wrapped in brown paper, but it had none by the time they left. I also noted that Mr Seymour had previously asked if they could stay for a few more days ,and I informed them that I could only accommodate them for a week. When I spoke to them about their stay, Mr. Seymour said they had decided to go to Hastings or London."

Annie Frances Jones, a single woman from No. 4 Tideswell Road, also stood as a witness:

"On the morning of Wednesday, October 9th, Mrs. Mann, the landlady, was out. I answered the front doorbell around five minutes past eleven and saw a man I recognised as the prisoner. He was wearing dark trousers and a frock coat and was carrying an umbrella and, I believe, an overcoat. He informed me that he needed some apartments, so I showed him a bedroom and a sitting room on the ground floor. I quoted the terms, which were £1. 1s. a week for both rooms. The prisoner responded that he would not need the rooms for a week and inquired about the three-day price, to which I replied it would be half a guinea. He mentioned that he had brought his wife to Eastbourne because she needed a change and explained that he required the rooms for three days due to a legal matter. The prisoner provided the name "Sinclair." At 12:30 p.m., he returned with his wife, Mrs. Sinclair, carrying a violin case, while the prisoner had a white cardboard hat box. They entered the bedroom, leaving the violin case and hat box, and then proceeded to the sitting room.''

She then responded to a questioning:

Miss Jones stated that she had seen Mr Sinclair three times, one of which was around 6:10 p.m. that same day when he was on the stairs. He was wearing a dark suit jacket. At 6:30 p.m., she heard footsteps in the hall downstairs, looked out of her window, and saw Mr. Sinclair and his wife crossing towards Junction Road. The man was wearing a cap or a soft hat. It might have been produced during the questioning, but she couldn't tell as it was dark. Miss Jones heard them again at 8:30 p.m. when Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair returned home hurriedly. She heard them go into their bedroom and close the door. She noticed them leave again around 9:00 p.m., and they returned shortly after 10:00 p.m.

They left around 10:00 a.m. on Thursday morning and returned at 2:00 p.m. At about 3:30 p.m., Dr Power called and left about an hour later with the prisoner, whom she did not see again after that.

The prisoner then asked some questions:

Prisoner: "Are you sure I said Sinclair and not 'Seymour'?"

Miss Jones: "I understood you to say Sinclair."

Prisoner: "Was I carrying anything when I went out on Wednesday evening?"

Miss Jones: "I did not see you carrying anything when you went out that evening."

Next was the landlady of 4 Tideswell Road, Mrs. Emily Jane Man:

She had been to Hastings on October 9th and arrived home at 7:30 p.m. She heard someone come in around 8:30 p.m., and voices and hurried footsteps drew her attention.

"Later on, I took a blanket to the bedroom, knocked on the door, and the lady came to the door to take the blanket. The man said, 'Thank you, it's very kind of you. I do feel cold,' but I only caught sight of the top of his head. Between 8:50 and 8:55 p.m., I heard the lady say, 'Come back, George.' The man was in the passage, while the woman was coming from the bedroom. I then heard the man say, 'I must have a stroll before bed.' After that, he called out, 'Missus, we are going to the pictures.' The couple then went out and returned around 10:00 p.m.

When I spoke to them later, the man I identified as the prisoner introduced his wife, but I did not catch her name. He said they had been to see 'Dante.' The lady commented that she thought it was a mockery of the Bible. The prisoner seemed a little excited and wore a short coat.

In the early hours of Thursday morning, I heard footsteps two or three times, but I couldn't tell if they belonged to the man or the woman. When I took their breakfast to them, the prisoner had a newspaper and remarked, 'It's a terrible thing, this of last evening,' to which I replied, 'Yes, it's too horrible for words.' The prisoner then said, 'You have had another incident, Money or Murray, which was very dreadful.'

While clearing the breakfast, I noticed that the prisoner had eaten very little, and the lady had hardly eaten anything. When Dr Power arrived, the prisoner introduced him, saying, 'This is my doctor. Unfortunately, my wife has to undergo an operation, and we will have to pack up and leave this afternoon.' The lady subsequently left in a taxicab with Dr Power, leaving behind a cardboard box that I handed to the police''.

The prisoner then asked her some questions:

Prisoner: "On the morning Dr Power arrived, did he ask you for some lotion and hot water?"

Mrs Man: "Yes, it was Jeyes' fluid, he requested."

Prisoner: "Did my wife mention that she had been very sick that morning?"

Mrs. Man: "Yes, she did; no, I beg your pardon, it was overnight."

Prisoner: "I think it must be quite obvious to those who read my postcard that I gave the name of Seymour, not Sinclair."

Next to the witness stand was Charles Huggett, a labourer living at 88 Winter Road and employed by the Corporation, who spoke about finding the rope presented as evidence between the Wish Tower and Mr Hounsom's bathing office.

Chief Inspector Bower of New Scotland Yard then provided his testimony:

"In response to a telephone message from Eastbourne, I left London Bridge for Eastbourne at 6:20 a.m. on the morning of October 10th. I returned to Victoria Station in the evening. On the train, I saw a woman who later identified herself as Florence Seymour, whom Edgar Power accompanied.

The following day, at 1:15 p.m., I went with Inspector Parker, Sergeant Hayman, and Dr. Power to arrest the prisoner at Moorfields, London. I said, 'We are police officers and shall arrest you for murder committed in Eastbourne last Wednesday evening.'

The prisoner was taken by taxicab to Cannon Row Police Station. The prisoner stated, 'I am perfectly innocent of this; I would not do such a thing.'

The Chief Inspector asked him, 'Do you wish to tell me where you were last Wednesday evening?'

The prisoner replied, 'I say nothing.' After a brief pause, he added, 'Whoever did that did it to get the Countess's papers for political purposes; that's what I think, anyway. No doubt she's mixed up in some foreign political business.'

After another pause, the prisoner continued, 'I would not commit a crime like that; I could get anything by my wits. That's another matter, and I have been going straight for the past twelve months. Of course, I know you have your business to do, and I know you won't miss much, but I never carried a gun, kid.'

The prisoner was detained at Cannon Row Police Station until the morning of the 12th when he was taken to Eastbourne. As explained earlier in the case, he then recounted a discussion he had with the prisoner during the journey to Eastbourne.

On Tuesday evening, October 15th, I went with Inspector Parker and Sergeant Hayman to the beach near the Redoubt. I remained there until the morning of the 16th. I witnessed Sergeant Hayman find the revolver, which was presented as evidence, broken into two pieces close to the promenade wall.

On the evening of the 18th, the prisoner handed me a letter, and Power also provided one. On the afternoon of the 15th, I saw the woman Seymour on the promenade outside the Redoubt; she then went onto the beach. Afterwards, I saw her with Power, apparently searching for something. I spoke to both of them and took them to the police station, where statements were recorded, and they were subsequently released''.

The prisoner was remanded until the following Friday. The Chairman addressed the prisoner, saying, ''You communicated to the magistrates. I have shown it to them, but they have no power to do what you ask.'' (What he asked was never revealed.)

The inquest resumed on Tuesday, October 29th. The Coroner opened the proceedings by explaining that the inquest had been adjourned to gather more evidence and that since a man had been charged, he understood the prisoner was present.

Williams arrived shortly before half past two. He was then brought up and placed in the dock between two wardens, dressed in the same clothes he wore when arrested.

The Coroner: "Are you John Williams, who has been charged with the murder of Inspector Walls?"

Prisoner: "Yes."

The Coroner: "I will read over the evidence given from the last session for your benefit. You may hear what they have said, and if you wish, you may ask questions."

Mr S. Pearce informed the Coroner that he was instructed to attend on behalf of the Director of Public Prosecutions and assist in taking evidence.

The Coroner expressed appreciation for the Director's involvement.

Arthur Potter, the cabman, gave his evidence. He also stated that he believed the man he had seen was clean-shaven.

Prisoner asked, "Did the face you saw resemble mine?"

Potter replied, "I cannot swear to it."

Chief Inspector Bower added to his deposition that the revolver was found at 1 AM on the morning of the 16th. He had also taken three statements from Florence Seymour; two were signed, and one was not.

Florence Seymour took the stand. She wore a fawn coat over a white dress and a round black hat with a white ribbon. She stated that she and the prisoner had gone to 4 Tideswell Road on a Wednesday.

The questioning began:

Mr. Pearce asked, "Do you remember an occasion when you walked with the prisoner between 6 and 8 o'clock?"

Florence replied, after some hesitation, "I don't remember. We would often go for a walk."

Mr. Pearce continued, "Do you remember when you were carrying a rope parcel?"

Florence replied, "Yes, I remember that."

Mr. Pearce asked, "Was it that evening?"

Florence confirmed, "Yes."

Mr Pearce: "Did you sit at the top of South Cliff Avenue?"

Florence responded, "Yes," adding that when he left, he was wearing a trilby or cap, but when he returned, he was not.

In further questioning, she stated that she and the prisoner were together when the revolver was buried on the beach near the redoubt. In reply to a question from one of the jury members, she said, "When he left me at the top of South Cliff, he asked me to excuse him but did not say where he was going." She asked if she could throw the rope away, as they were going to the movies, and she didn't want to carry it with her.

The Coroner asked, "What were you carrying it for?"

Florence replied, "I don't know."

The Coroner continued, "Wasn't it strange to carry that around in fashionable Eastbourne?"

Florence responded, "I don't know."

The Coroner asked, "Have you ever carried it before for him?"

Florence said, "No, I have not."

The Coroner pressed, "Did it not strike you as something strange?"

Florence replied, "No, it did not."

Mr Pearce asked, "Can you give any data on how long he was gone from you that evening? You said a quarter of an hour this time, but that is not what you gave in other statements."

Florence said, "It was from a quarter of an hour to twenty minutes; it could not have been longer."

The Coroner queried, "Why not?"

Florence explained, "Because I know it was about five minutes past seven when we got to the seat. It struck seven when we passed the bandstand."

Mr. Pearce asked, "What time did he come back?"

Florence replied, "It was about twenty past, and he brought a newspaper."

Mr Pearce noted, "You have interviewed the prisoner at Lewes prison since the police court proceedings?"

Florence replied, "Yes, I have seen him twice."

Mr. Pearce asked if the time was discussed during either of those visits.

Florence agreed, "Yes, he did say something about it."

Mr. Pearce continued, "In one of the three statements you made to Inspector Bower, did you tell him that on the night the rope was thrown away, the prisoner was away from you for twenty to thirty minutes?"

Florence said, "I don't remember saying that."

Mr. Pearce asked, "Do you remember a shorthand writer taking notes of what you said?"

Florence replied, "No, I don't remember. I know I was very ill that evening."

Mr Pearce also asked, "Do you remember going to Scotland Yard that evening and making those statements?"

Florence replied, "Yes."

The prisoner then spoke, "When we were sitting on the bench at the bandstand, was there anyone else sitting beside us?"

Florence replied: "No one."

The prisoner continued, "Thank you."

Florence added, "Oh, opposite the bandstand, yes, there were a lady or two ladies."

The prisoner asked, "Did she speak to me?"

Florence confirmed, "Yes, she asked you the time."

The foreman asked, "Was the band playing when you passed by?"

Florence replied, "I don't recollect."

Mr. Pearce asked, "Did the prisoner answer the lady?"

Florence said, "Yes, he answered, but I don't recollect what he said."

This concluded Florence's evidence, and as she left the witness box, she smiled and waved at the prisoner.

The prisoner's brother, whose real name was given to the Coroner in writing, and Edgar Power, a medical student, gave evidence that will be explained later, and the inquest was adjourned once again.

The jury eventually delivered their verdict of guilty, and the case was referred to the Crown Prosecution Service.

The trial began on December 12th at Lewes Assizes, presided over by Justice Channell. Sir Frederick Low prosecuted, while Mr Patrick Hastings defended the accused, whose name was then revealed to be Charles Williams. He pleaded not guilty.

In the opening statements, the prosecution asserted that there was no doubt a murder had been committed; it was up to the jury to determine if the accused seated in the dock was the person responsible for the act.

Florence Seymour, a key witness, later claimed that her previous statement to the magistrates about sitting on South Cliff Avenue on the night of the murder was false. She admitted that she had gone to the cinema that evening instead. Seymour explained that she had made the false statement because she was pressured by Bower, who threatened to charge her with murder if she did not comply.

The counsel treated her as a hostile witness. Seymour testified that she had seen the prisoner cleaning a revolver the morning after the murder and recalled him saying, "If they find fingerprints on it, they will accuse me of the murder." She also retracted her earlier claim that he wore a trilby hat on October 9th.

When questioned about her numerous contradictions, the witness became hysterical, sobbing, "I will say no more to anybody except the truth."

Next in the witness stand was John Williams, the brother of the accused, also known as John Williams:

He stated that he lived at Queen's Road, Finsbury Park, London. He recalled seeing his brother a few days before October 10th. On that date, he received a letter from his brother by the first post, which he destroyed. The letter read, "If you want to save my life, come to Eastbourne immediately. Come to 4 Tideswell Road, and bring some cash with you. Very urgent."

"I showed the letter to Edgar Power and my wife. I went to Eastbourne that afternoon with Power. In the morning papers, I saw an account of the murder. I had previously lived at Digby Road and left there at the end of last September. My brother had visited me there and was familiar with the area. During a small quarrel at my home, my brother produced a revolver I had never seen before. Once we reached Eastbourne, I had lunch at the Royal Hotel while Power went to the address provided in the letter. I gave Power £2 to give to my brother. I travelled back to London with Power and my brother on the 5:30 train. They travelled first class, while Power and I took third class. My brother paid the excess fare on our return tickets. During the journey back, they naturally asked him if he had anything to do with the murder. He replied, "You don't mean to say I did such a thing! I have a good idea of the gang that did it, and having been seen in their company, I needed to clear out of the place. He denied any involvement and claimed he had been at a picture palace. He rejected any suggestion of his guilt and became violent, threatening to fight me''.

Edgar Power, aged 31, from Anne's Road, Haringey, stated that he had been a medical student:

"On the morning of October 10th, I was at the residence of the last witness. He showed me a letter he had received from his brother at about 9 o'clock. The postmark was 9 p.m. on the 9th. When we went to Eastbourne, he called at the address and asked for Mr Seymour. I first spoke to Mrs Seymour and afterwards met the prisoner. I said to him, 'You look flushed and excited.' he replied, 'That is due to going about without a hat.' I asked him if he had anything to do with the murder, and he said, 'No.' He added that he needed to escape Eastbourne because he was known to the police, and they would suspect him. I told him that if he left, he would admit his guilt. The prisoner replied, 'The police know me, and I shall be suspected guilty or not.' Florence Seymour was lying on the floor in a state of distress. I gave the prisoner my return half ticket. Before leaving Eastbourne, I had an interview with the Chief Constable. Upon arriving in London, I took Florence Seymour to a hotel where Williams had booked a room for her. Later on, I met with Williams and the prisoner again to discuss the murder. The topic of shooting came up, and I joked with him about it, saying, 'You couldn't hit a haystack in a lobby.' The prisoner replied, 'Well, that was a good shot, anyway.' I asked, 'What shot?' The prisoner replied, 'That shot that all this disturbance is about.' On October 15th, Florence and I returned to Eastbourne and went to the Front. Near the Redoubt, we searched the sand but found nothing. We returned to the railway station, where Inspector and Sergeant Hayman arrested us. We were kept at the police station for four or five hours.''

The witness claimed he had seen the revolver in the prisoner's possession since early September, in the same condition as it is now, except it now had a hammer on it. Power had held it in his hands probably half a dozen times and described it as an effective weapon. The prisoner had pointed the revolver at him once when it was fully loaded. Power also stated he had seen the prisoner wearing a hat similar to the one produced in court.

Catherine Williams, the wife of John Williams:

She recalled her husband's visit to Eastbourne on October 10th. That morning, a letter arrived from Eastbourne in the prisoner's handwriting, which reached her house around 8 o'clock. She had known the prisoner for about three years and had seen him with a revolver. On one occasion, when she lived on Digby Road, the prisoner was abusive over trivial matters, and Florence sided with him.

"He pointed a revolver at my head, and I went outside into the street out of fear. He apologised afterwards; my husband and children were present then." Her husband insisted it would not have harmed her.

The next time she saw the revolver was in Queen's Road, Finsbury. One night, the prisoner came in extremely upset with a bleeding nose.

Mr Hastings stated that the prosecution could not prove anything beyond possessing the revolver, but His Lordship declined to stop the evidence.

The witness continued, saying she had seen the revolver in the prisoner's bedroom several weeks before October 10th, with the prisoner holding it in his hand.

Next witness was Rose Houssier, the proprietor of the Devon Hotel on Vauxhall Bridge Road:

She stated she had known the prisoner as Mr George Ashton since July. He had stayed at the Devon Hotel with Florence Seymour in July and again in August.

On October 10th, the prisoner booked a room for himself and his wife. That evening, a gentleman brought a letter for her, which was later found in the hotel's dustbin; it had been discovered in the grate and then discarded in the bin.

Several other witnesses testified about various hotels and lodgings where the couple and the prisoner had stayed.

On the third day, the prisoner was called to the stand. He stood in the witness box, flanked by two warders. His demeanour was alert; however, he appeared calm and composed, answering the counsel's questions without hesitation. He confirmed that he knew Inspector Bower.

Mr Hastings: "I believe you have committed burglary?"

Prisoner: "Unfortunately, yes."

The prisoner went on to explain that he had travelled to Eastbourne with Florence Seymour on October 2nd, staying at 6 Bolton Road. At that time, he owned a revolver that he had owned for approximately nine months. He bought it for 2 shillings from a Jewish man in the East End of London. The revolver had been useless ever since, as the hammer was missing. He explained that the holster had been in his possession for two or three months. He had communicated with his brother in America about the possibility of working on a ranch there, and he had intended to repair the revolver before heading to America. He stated that the Trilby hat found in South Cliff Avenue immediately after the murder had never belonged to him.

He then spoke of his time in Eastbourne:

"The day after we arrived in Eastbourne, I was out with Florence Seymour when two Jewish men and a Jewish woman, about 40 years old, passed us. I recognised one of the men as 'Mike,' who I knew was a Continental thief. Mike acknowledged me by raising his hat and then walked on. The following Monday, I met Mike, and we had a drink and a conversation. On Tuesday, October 8th, in the morning, I met Mike by appointment at a hotel on the Front—I believe it was the Cavendish. We had a conversation that lasted about an hour, during which Mike gave me a parcel containing the rope that was produced as evidence. We arranged to meet again that evening at the hotel at seven o'clock.

That evening, I went out with my wife. We walked along South Cliff Avenue shortly before 7 o'clock, which was the only time I had been along that road. I spoke to a lady along the way about a child who was crying bitterly in one of the houses, and a gentleman came to the door of that house. That gentleman was present in court the previous day. Florence Seymour was carrying the parcel containing the rope. We sat on a bench at the end of South Cliff Avenue, and I left my wife there with the parcel while I went to the hotel, where I met the two men and the woman. I stayed there for about a quarter of an hour conversing with them, and Mike gave me 5 shillings. I then returned to my wife, buying a newspaper on the way back. We walked along the Front, and my wife discarded the parcel after discussing it with me. We went into a hotel for a drink before returning home between 7:30 and 8:00 pm. That night, I was wearing a cap, and when I returned to the bench from the hotel, I was carrying it in my hand, which was not unusual for me. We had planned to return to London on Wednesday, but my wife fell ill, so I arranged to stay for a few more days. Mrs. Daniels had let our rooms, which had only been booked for a week, so we took lodgings for a few days at 4 Tideswell Road on the morning of October 9th. At 6:30 that evening, my wife and I went out, and I was wearing a bowler hat. We went to a picture theatre and stayed there until 8:30. Dante's "Inferno" was the last film we saw, and just before it, a man sang a song called "Rose of My Heart." Upon leaving the theatre, we headed toward Tideswell Road, and upon seeing a crowd outside a shop, we approached to see a notice in the window stating that Inspector Walls had been shot.''

He then interrupted throughout by Mr Hastings:

Mr Hastings: "What effect did that have on your mind?"

Prisoner: "Well, I can't quite explain its effect."

The prisoner continued: "We went home to Tideswell Road and stayed there for about five minutes. We went out again, and I bought a letter card at the General Post Office, where I wrote a letter to his brother, as mentioned previously."

Mr Hastings: "What caused you to write that letter?"

Prisoner: "Being known to the police gave me a fright."

Mr Hastings: "I think I must ask you to make quite sure. You are well known to the police as a burglar?"

Prisoner: "Yes, sir."

The prisoner continued: "I posted the letter, and then we went to another picture palace and arrived there to see the last film, which was a long one. Afterwards, we went home. My revolver was kept in a bag, and my wife had the key at all times we were in Eastbourne. It remained in the bag until the morning of October 10th, when my wife opened it at my request. It had no cartridges while we were in Eastbourne."

Mr Hastings: "Why did you want the bag unlocked?"

Prisoner: "Because I wanted to take my revolver out."

Mr Hastings: "Why did you want the gun out?"

Prisoner: "Because I wanted to bury it."

Mr Hastings: "Why?"

Prisoner: "Because I didn't want to be found with it in my possession."

Mr Hastings: "What was its condition when you took it out?"

Prisoner: "It was in two pieces."

Mr Hastings: "And regarding the hammer?"

Prisoner: "There had never been a hammer on it since I've had it."

Mr Hastings: "And what did you do with it?"

Prisoner: "I cleaned it with a handkerchief-no, I used a rag''.

Mr Hastings: "Why did you do that?"

Prisoner: "Because I didn't want my fingerprints on it."

Mr Hastings: "Do you know if your fingerprints are at Scotland Yard?"

Prisoner: "Oh yes, they are there."

Mr Hastings: "Is that why you wiped it?"

Prisoner: "Yes."

The prisoner continued: "Afterwards, I buried the revolver, and in the afternoon, Power came down from London. I then returned to London with my brother. My brother took half a bottle of whiskey, and I drank most of it on the train. I had a faint recollection of writing something that night. I had no recollection of making the shot that Power attributed to me."

Mr Hastings: "I just want to ask you one more question: are you the man who murdered Inspector Walls that night?"

Prisoner (emphatically): "I was not."

After cross-examinations, Sir Frederick Low addressed the jury for three-quarters of an hour on behalf of the prosecution. Mr Hastings replied for the prisoner in a speech lasting under two hours. The Judge took nearly an hour to summarise the case and then sent the jury off for deliberation. They returned in just over 15 minutes with a guilty verdict.

The Clerk of the Justice then rose to his feet: ''John Williams, you stand convicted of wilful murder. Do you have anything to say as to why the sentence of death should not be passed upon you?''

Prisoner: ''Yes, sir. I must once again assert that I am innocent of the charge.''

The Clerk then placed the black cap on the Judge's head and said, "My Lords, the King's Justices do strictly command all persons to keep silent as the death sentence is passed upon the prisoner at the bar, under pain of imprisonment."

Amid an awful silence, the Judge, speaking with some emotion:

"John Williams, you have been convicted of willful murder. For that, there is but one sentence known to the law of this country, and I must pass this sentence upon you. It is not my sentence; it is the sentence of the law. That sentence is that you be taken to the place from whence you came and from there to the place of execution, where the neck shall hang you until you are dead. Your body shall afterwards be buried within the precincts of the prison in which you shall have been after this conviction. May the Lord have mercy upon your soul."

The Chaplain: ''Amen."

The prisoner heard the sentence and appeared unmoved. He turned around at its conclusion while closely attended by two warders. He glanced at the seat that Florence Seymour had occupied, but she had left before the final proceedings. He then disappeared down the steps at the back of the dock to be taken to the gaol later, where he would be confined in the condemned cell, under constant watch by two warders.

Mr. Hastings applied to the Judge for permission, on behalf of Florence Seymour, to see Williams. His Lordship ascertained that there was no suitable accommodation for this purpose. However, as far as he was concerned, he was willing for the application to be granted. Still, he left the final decision to the Governor of the gaol.

A large crowd had assembled outside the court after the trial.

Arthur Wall's probate was completed in Lewes on 14 November 1912, and Emily received effects worth £612 16s 8d.

A letter from the brother of the condemned man to Brighton Argus reads as follows:

''I am the brother of John Williams, who is currently under a death sentence for the murder of Inspector Walls in Eastbourne. Although our real family name is known to the authorities and editors of several prominent newspapers, they have generously refrained from revealing it, thereby sparing my mother—who is gravely ill—instant death from shock and shielding my father—a professional man—from disgrace and poverty. Thankfully, they remain unaware of the shame that their son has brought upon himself and them. I am convinced there will be an attempt to disclose our actual surname through the press publicly. Therefore, I implore the editors of these newspapers to show mercy and allow the alias "Williams" to continue protecting the unfortunate and innocent authors of my brother's and my existence.''

John Williams' appeal against his conviction for the murder of Inspector Walls was heard in the Court of Criminal Appeal on Monday, January 13th. Still, the court decided not to overturn the conviction.

Florence Seymour, who was lodging at 124 Wilton Road, Pimlico, London, was discussed in court regarding her condition—she was carrying Williams' child. She gave birth to a girl on December 29th. The condemned man had written to the Home Secretary requesting permission to marry Miss Seymour before the birth of their child. Still, the Home Secretary replied that he could not grant the request.

The execution of John Williams was scheduled for Wednesday, January 29th, by the High Sheriff of Sussex at Lewes following his conviction for the murder of Inspector Walls in Eastbourne. Petitions for Williams' reprieve were available at the offices of Mr. H. Glenister in Hastings and Mr. W. H. Speed at 18 Sackville Street, London. The Rev. H. B. Chapman of the Chapel Royal, London, was actively circulating the petition, and requests for forms were received nationwide.

The Attorney-General has been requested to certify an appeal to the House of Lords because there is significant doubt surrounding the case that if Williams is guilty, he did not intend to kill and that the condemned man continues to assert his innocence. On January 17th, it was officially announced that the Attorney-General had refused this application.

On February 1st, 1913, the condemned man was executed. The execution was scheduled for eight o'clock, and a little before that hour, the Under-Sheriff (Mr Walter Bartlett), the Governor (Major Marriott, D.S.O.), the Chaplain (the Rev. M.H. Huthwaite), the Medical Officer (Dr W.A. Dow), and his partner Mr. S.L. Benton, along with four representatives from the press, were admitted to the prison. The journalists were escorted to the courtyard, where the grim conclusion of a memorable tragedy was about to unfold.

The condemned man had written farewell to his parents and Miss Seymour the previous evening. He spent a distressing night, managing only a few hours of undisturbed sleep, and had little appetite for breakfast.

As the minutes ticked away, activity increased within the block of the condemned man's cell. At the stroke of eight o'clock, a small procession of officials emerged from a door at the end of the building.

The medical Officer and his partner led the way, accompanied by the Under-Sheriff. The Chaplain followed, reading parts of the Burial Service arranged for such occasions. A few yards behind them, the condemned man walked.

It was noted that his wrists were securely bound at the back, and he wore the frock coat he had appeared in during the trial. On either side of him were the executioner, John Ellis.

He walked with his assistant, Willis, while several warders followed behind.

The hooded man walked with firm steps, his head held high, displaying determination as he faced his fate. His countenance was slightly flushed, and he looked thinner, with an unshaven face that contrasted with his well-groomed appearance during the trial and his vigorous fight in the courts.

He stepped onto the trap, which was level with the ground. The executioner strapped a white belt around his legs near the ankles, adjusted the noose, and for the last time, the man's head was covered with a white cap that the hangman placed over him. The next moment, the bolts keeping the trap doors in position were released, and he fell into the pit below. The drop was seven feet, six inches, and aside from a slight oscillation of the rope when it became taut, there was practically no movement; no sound was heard except for the trapdoors' rattle against the excavation's side.

Nearby, an open grave awaited the body, along with the graves of seven other criminals. After a brief service conducted by the Chaplain, most officials withdrew, leaving only the Medical Officer, his partner, and several warders who remained to recover the body from its suspended position.

Within two minutes, the press representatives were escorted through the courtyard and led to the prison's entrance, where the gate was unlocked for their departure. At the gate near the town end, a crowd had gathered to hear the tolling of the bell that marked the completion of the tragic ceremony. They lingered for a short while before ultimately dispersing.

The Rev. H.B. Chapman, Chaplain of the Savoy Chapel, later stated that he felt "entirely misled" in his previous opinion that there was enough doubt to justify a reprieve. "Now, being fully aware of the facts," he added, "I wish to commend the justice and humanity of the Home Secretary and the police throughout the whole matter."

Although his family had been permitted to witness the execution, no one attended. The usual inquest was conducted, and he was buried within the grounds of the prison.

After his execution was completed, his real name was revealed as 'George Mackay'. He was 29 years old and the son of a minister in northern Scotland. He was born on February 28, 1883, in Ross-shire, Scotland, to highly respected parents, Rev. Alexander Murdoch Mackay and Hannah Mackenzie.

Mackay began his criminal activities at age nine when he stole two pigeons from one of his father's neighbours and sold them but he was forgiven for this. He soon began stealing cream cans from doorsteps. As a result, he was brought before the police court in Edinburgh and bound over for good behaviour.

Fourteen months later, he was caught defrauding a baker by pretending to be sent for bread by a customer. He was discharged under the First Offenders Act. However, the leniency of the justice system didn't deter him. Within two months, he broke his probation by stealing golf balls. At age eleven, he received a severe admonition in the sheriff's court, marking the beginning of Mackay's criminal pursuits.

After a three-year interval, he escalated to more serious crimes and became a housebreaker. In 1897, he received his first prison sentence of seven days for entering a shop through a fanlight and stealing a cash box. Immediately after his release, he attempted to commit fraud against a solicitor, claiming he had been sent to collect money from a client. For this offence, he served ten days in prison. He then tried another false pretence, resulting in thirty days' imprisonment, and soon after, he committed another minor fraud, from which he gained 3 shillings. Following this, he was discharged and sent to sea.

Life at sea taught him the art of climbing at the age of sixteen, which further aided his criminal activities, including housebreaking and burglary, once he returned to land. In 1899, he enlisted in the Royal Scots. While serving in South Africa, he stole from the battalion stores, resulting in a three-month imprisonment. He then deserted.

After joining a corps of irregulars, he robbed one of his companions, leading to a court-martial that sentenced him to two years of hard labour. Neither the Navy nor the Army found a place for such a scoundrel, so Mackay turned to a life of civilian crime, associating with the criminals in the diamond city of Kimberley. He served two periods of imprisonment for various robberies and receiving stolen property. Ultimately, he moved to Johannesburg and was deported from South Africa as an undesirable.

England then became home to yet another irredeemable criminal, Mackay, for more than five years:

- October 17, 1907: Nine months of hard labour in Wells for housebreaking.

- September 1908: Twenty-one months of hard labour in Folkestone for burglary.

- November 8, 1910: Twelve months at the London County Sessions for housebreaking.

- October 9, 1912: Charged with the murder of Inspector Walls outside the residence of Countess Sztaray in Eastbourne.

Throughout his criminal career, Mackay was known by various aliases, including Wilson, Thompson, Hamilton, and Williams.

Life After

Florence Seymour

Born Florence Minnie Hills in St. Albans, Middlesex, in 1892, came from a modest background; her father, Henry, was a general labourer. In the 1911 census, at age 20, she was registered at her family home, No. 9 Royston Road, The Camp, St. Albans, where her occupation was listed as 'home,' helping her mother keep the house and care for her widowed paternal grandfather. She must have met George sometime after this, possibly bringing some excitement into her life.

She was a dressmaker's assistant when she gave birth to a daughter, Mona Edna, on December 29, 1912, at 127 Wilton Road in London. She lived at 47 Mark Lane in London at the time of her birth registration.

Florence entered a workhouse on August 22, 1920. In the June 19, 1921, Census, Florence, now 28, is listed as working as a housekeeper at 53 Hollingbourne Road, Camberwell, Southwark. She was recorded as a single woman and worked for Ernest Henry Durban, a 46-year-old oysterman at Scott's Restaurant in Piccadilly, London. Ernest had been married in 1902 and was recorded as married even though his wife, Maud Brown, had remarried in 1914.

In the 1921 Census, Florence's daughter, Mona, was listed as Ernest's adopted daughter. His biological daughter, Brenda Pauline Durban, born on March 7, 1921, was also listed as a daughter of Florence. This indicates that Florence entered the workhouse pregnant. Brenda was registered with the surname Durban on her birth certificate, raising questions about whether Ernest was the father or whether it was simpler to use his surname at registration instead of adoption, especially since Mona retained the surname Hill in this Census. No record exists of Florence and Ernest getting married.

Florence then appears in the 1939 census, no longer with Ernest but living in Paddington, London, with her daughter Brenda, who worked as a shorthand typist. Florence's occupation was listed as apartment housekeeper, and she was recorded as a widow with the surname "Adlem." No marriage record was found, but a family named "Adlam" lived in Camberwell when she was with Ernest. However, they all seem to have married others. Ernest didn't die until 1949, so she may have escaped him and changed her name to avoid being found. Florence died under the name Adlem at age 68 in Hampstead in 1958.

Daughter Mona

She remained with Ernest and used the surname Durban on the electoral register. At 25, in Paddington in 1938, she married Leslie Raiment, who was born in Islington but whose family had moved to Camberwell. They had a son, Reginald J.A., born in 1939. Mona eventually returned to Ernest in his later life; her marriage to Leslie did not last. The last record found for her is from 1972, when she lived with a man named James W. Niven at 5 Brondesbury Villas in Brent, Kilburn, London. There is no death record for Mona Edna. Still, I found one for Nora Edna Niven, who had her birthdate and died in April 1980 at age 67 in Mid-Eastern Surrey. James had connections to Ewell and Surrey, but no marriage records have been found for them, so this information remains unconfirmed.

Daughter Brenda Pauline

She was recorded living in Hampstead London between 1945 and 1955, then in Twickenham London during the 1960s. She disappeared thereafter. Brenda travelled to Australia in 1953, so she may have emigrated there later in life and changed her name to avoid detection for some reason. No marriage or death records for her name have been found.

John Williams

George's brother, left England on March 13, 1913, arriving in America on March 24. He eventually settled in Portland, Oregon, with his family. John was the family's artist and designer, and George had stolen his identity. Whether John left England out of shame for the family's reputation, as he tried to conceal his brother's wrongdoings and help him escape justice, remains uncertain. John eventually worked in the insurance business and was a member of the Portland Freemasons and the Knights Templar.

In 1925, John moved to Yucaipa, California, for health reasons, and a year later, he relocated to 315 Normandie Court, Redlands, San Bernardino County, California. He became critically ill and spent two weeks in a sanatorium, but returned home a few days before his death on July 31, 1927. He died at the age of 47.

The Walls family:

Son Archie married Emily Esther Stanbridge on 1st January 1916 at Brightling, Sussex. She was from Dallington, Sussex, the daughter of Edwin Stanbridge, a farming labourer from Ticehurst, Sussex. He served in WWI. By 1921, they had moved to Upton-by-Birkenhead, Cheshire, and Archie was a Theology student. They had a son, Arthur Edwin, named after both their fathers, who was born in February 1821. He eventually became a Reverend, and by 1939, they were living in Wakefield, Yorkshire. When his mother died, he received her effects £1539 19s 5d, and in September, he and his wife went on a trip to Canada and again in 1960. I have been unable to locate a death certificate for him.

Daughter Clara Lethia became a Music Teacher. On 13 June 1925, at the age of 29, she married Harold Reginald Baldwin, a French Polisher from Tottenham, London, at All Souls Church, Eastbourne. They moved into 18 Motcombe Road, Eastbourne. They never had children, and she died on 2nd April 1942, aged 46.

Arthur's wife Emily never remarried and eventually lived with her daughter and her husband at 18 Motcombe Road and remained there until her death on 16th January 1956 at St Mary's Hospital, Eastbourne, aged 83

SOURCES

1. (1912, October 10). A police officer was Man'smurdered. Brighton Argus, pg2.

2. (1912, October 12). Suspect Arrival. Brighton Argus, pg2.

3. (1912, October 18). Suspect Charged. Sussex Express, pg11.

4. (1912, October 18). THE EASTBOURNE MURDER. FUNERAL OF INSPECTOR WALLS. Western Chronicle, pg4.

5. (1912, October 31). The eastbourne police tragedy. Hastings and Bexhill Independent, pg6.

6. (1912, November 11). The Eastbourne Murder. Brighton Argus, pg3.

7. (1912, December 12). Trial of Williams. Halifax Evening Courier, pg6.

8. (1912, December 21). Sentence of Death. Eastbourne Chronicle, pg6.

9. (1912, December 31). Eastbourne Case. Brighton Argus, pg2.

10. (1913, January 18). The Date of Execution. Brighton Gazette, pg1.

11. (1913, January 18). Williams Execution. Brighton Gazette, pg2.

12. (1913, February 21). Criminal Career. Civil & Military Gazette (Lahore), pg10.

13. Bring your backstory to lifeTM (no date) Ancestry® | Genealogy, Family Trees & Family History Records. Available at: http://www.ancestry.co.uk/

14. Archive, T.B.N. (no date) History’s colourful stories in black and white, Home | Search the archive | British Newspaper Archive. Available at: https://www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/

15. General Register Office (no date) General Register Office - Online Ordering Service - Login. Available at: https://www.gro.gov.uk/gro/content/certificates/