police | K Morris

Yesterday evening I watched a chilling though fascinating programme about the acid bath murderer, John George Haigh. Born into a deeply religious family (his parents where Plymouth Brethren, a strict protestant sect), Haigh progressed from terms of imprisonment for fraud to murdering 6 people. The killings took place in order that Haigh could steal his victims money, much of which he spent on gambling.
Haigh’s last victim was his undoing. He shot and dissolved in acid a 69-year-old fellow hotel guest (Haigh had been staying at the Onslo Hotel in Kensington). However when the lady failed to return to the hotel her fellow guests became suspicious and following an investigation Haigh was arrested and confessed to murdering 9 people (although it is thought he did, in fact kill a total of 6 and his inflated claim stemmed from a wish to convince the trial jury that he was mad). He was convicted of murder and hanged by the famous executioner Albert Pierrepoint.
Haigh believed that the use of acid would remove all traces of his crime. In this he was wrong as the police found a foot and several gall stones in the sludge that constituted the remains of his victims.
A fascinating though horrific series of crimes, (http://murderpedia.org/male.H/h/haigh-john.htm).

Shortly following my move to Crystal Palace in 1997 I took a bus to the Sainsburys supermarket, located at Crystal Palace’s football ground. There I sat, my then guide dog, Zeff lying at my feet, minding my own business when a lady began rattling Keys. I remember being torn between the desire to smile owing to the sound being reminiscent of the rattling of Marley’s Ghost’s chains in Dicken’s A Christmas Carol and the wish to get away from this lady who, quite obviously had mental health issues.

I remember, at the time thinking “I hope she doesn’t follow me off the bus”.

On reaching my stop I alighted and to my dismay the lady followed me, muttering incoherently to herself, keys rattling as she walked.

I quickened my pace wishing to reach the relative safety of Sainsburys in double quick time. I entered only to have the lady grab hold of Zeff’s harness and for her to say “I’ll kill the dog”. Matters descended into black comedy with a member of the supermarket staff asking whether I was acquainted with the woman. I felt like answering,

“Do you think I hang around with mentally unstable individuals who threaten to kill my guide dog?” Instead I merely confirmed in a surprisingly calm voice that I had never met the woman before and could they please eject her from the store. Fortunately a security guard intervened at this juncture and escorted the lady off the premises.

In retrospect I should have insisted that the supermarket call the police as the lady was clearly mentally unstable, had made a threat to kill my guide dog and, quite obviously required medical and/orpolice intervention. I suspect the woman had stopped taking whatever medication she was on leading to her bizarre and, quite frankly frightening behaviour. I hope to heavens she didn’t go onto harm some other poor soul.

The above recollections where prompted by the following post which I came across earlier today, http://doctorly.wordpress.com/2014/08/11/sightless/