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  • Ben,

    It's not that I'm easily convinced, because I ain't convinced so much as intrigued. The admittedly meagre facts we have about Lech seem to create a plausible scenario.

    Perhaps littered was too melodramatic a term for the locations of the bodies near his work routes. But they were found close to routes that he might reasonably have used. Shortly after having moved to Doveton Street the earlier the murders occurred on a route with which he would have been very familiar i.e Whitechapel Road. And Bucks Row is also on that route from Doveton Street. What would be more normal than finding the quickest connection from his new home to his old route and then plodding along on in time honoured fashion? Only after he meets Paul and accompanies him along Hanbury Street do the murders shift northwards.

    All supposition you may say, and you'd be right. But surely it's plausible?

    MrB
    Last edited by MrBarnett; 08-31-2014, 02:56 AM.

    Comment


    • Hey!
      Miss Marple.
      You have put forward some pretty good, pretty damn good, reasons why this guy, (what was his name, Cross?) should be regarded as a leading suspect. I shall have to look into this in detail, but from what you have said it stacks up already. Better than any other suspect I have seen anyway. Thanks for the lead!

      Comment


      • Hi Miss Marple,

        Not having read your previous post, I am not entirely sure what Lechmere's duties were. I had imagined that getting into work by 4am he was one of the early birds and probably had to ready the horses and van and start loading within the confines of the goods yard prior to going out on his deliveries. I had imagined a cavernous goods yard full of nooks and crannies, crates, bales of hay dung piles etc etc. And with a plentiful supply of water for the horses.

        All utterly ridiculous I now realise.

        MrB
        Last edited by MrBarnett; 08-31-2014, 02:51 AM.

        Comment


        • Originally posted by miss marple View Post
          You cannot prove that he was not known as Cross by his workmates.
          Miss Marple
          True. I cannot even prove that Lee Harvey Oswald was not known as Rotherhite by a onelegged Cuban mailman, that John Wilkes Booth was not known as Queequeg by a senile escimo residing next door to him at some stage in his life or that the female pharaoh Hatshepshut was not known as Mrs Biggins by a local cattlefarmer.

          There are so many things that I can´t disprove! That is a really solid argument on your behalf. I havent even been able to disprove that Charles Lechmere was the Whitechapel killer. Try yourself, and you will see. It´s infuriating.

          Since I can´t disprove it, I guess I shall have to accept it as a truth. Bugger.

          the best,
          Fisherman

          Comment


          • Originally posted by Fisherman View Post
            True. I cannot even prove that Lee Harvey Oswald was not known as Rotherhite by a onelegged Cuban mailman, that John Wilkes Booth was not known as Queequeg by a senile escimo residing next door to him at some stage in his life or that the female pharaoh Hatshepshut was not known as Mrs Biggins by a local cattlefarmer.

            There are so many things that I can´t disprove! That is a really solid argument on your behalf. I havent even been able to disprove that Charles Lechmere was the Whitechapel killer. Try yourself, and you will see. It´s infuriating.

            Since I can´t disprove it, I guess I shall have to accept it as a truth. Bugger.

            the best,
            Fisherman
            Fisherman - Are you so obtuse that you cannot understand that what you've posted here is exactly the problem. Use your estimable detecting skills to examine what you've written above. See if you can identify the issue as it relates to how you and your toady have approached the issue.

            Comment


            • Let’s play a little game called Victorian Cops and Serial Killers. I’ll be the Inspector and you can be the Chief Inspector.

              As an experienced DI, I am aware that a certain amount of suspicion naturally attaches to someone who is discovered by a murder victim, so I call the carman Cross in for questioning. He comes across as a harmless enough character, a family man with a good work record. But old Jo Mizen, who I know to be as straight as a die, insists he misled the coroner over the discussion they had on the morning of Nichol’s murder. In the circumstances, it would be silly not to check him out further.

              When I do so, I discover his name isn’t Cross at all. It’s Lechmere. Interviewed a second time he seems a little sheepish, but explains that Cross was his stepfather’s name and he was still known in some quarters by it. Nothing much else to go on at this point, so I leave it at that.

              A little over a year later I am called to Pinchin Street in St George in the East, where the torso of a woman has been discovered. The head and legs had been removed from the body and were never found. There was a deep gash to the abdomen. At the inquest Dr Bagster Phillips subsequently gave the opinion that the dismemberment had been carried out by someone ‘accustomed to cut up animals’.

              There is a horrible smell in the area, more than can be explained by the decomposition of the torso, and when I mention it, my constable explains that it probably comes from the horse meat establishment just a few yards away. I look to where the constable is pointing and as I’m looking the door opens and who should come out, but the same Cross/Lechmere fellow who was discovered by the body of Polly Nicholls in ’88. ‘Ello, ‘ello’, I mutter to myself, the hairs rising on the back of my neck.

              Back at the station I retrieve the file containing my interview with Lechmere and it dawns on me that the man had a reason to be walking East/West along either Whitechapel Road or Hanbury Street on the days and at around the times of the five murders carried out on working days. The double event doesn’t quite fit the pattern either geographically or in respect of time, but that was a weekend and if my memory serves, ah yes, his previous address was just a few streets away from Berners Street and his mother and daughter still lived there.

              I call the man in for a third time. He arrives, apparently straight from work, wearing a grubby apron. During the interview he gives nothing away, and in particular he blithely bats away any suggestion that he tried to hoodwink Mizen or that there was anything sinister in his use of the name Cross. Either as innocent as a lamb or a very cool customer.

              However, in the course of the conversation it is revealed that this dishevelled workman has, or believes he has, an illustrious ancestry. And had it not been for a wastrel grandfather his position in life would have been considerably better than that of a humble carman.

              Obviously there’s no hard evidence. No bloody knife or mummified body parts found in his possession, but something doesn’t quite feel right.

              I take my suspicions to the Chief and when I have finished his response is…

              (Here’s where you get a chance to play. Choose one from the following: )

              ‘Absolutely absurd, don’t waste any more time on him.’ Or,

              ‘You may have something there, Old Boy, dig a little deeper and see what you can find’.

              MrB
              Last edited by MrBarnett; 08-31-2014, 05:05 AM.

              Comment


              • I presume you are referring to me as the toady Patrick. As ever your ignorance is manifest as is your inability to conduct yourself with a semblance of politeness. That is par for the course with you.. Enjoy your sad negative obsession.

                Comment


                • Originally posted by MrBarnett View Post
                  Let’s play a little game called Victorian Cops and Serial Killers. I’ll be the Inspector and you can be the Chief Inspector.

                  As an experience DI, I am aware that a certain amount of suspicion naturally attaches to someone who is discovered by a murder victim, so I call the carman Cross in for questioning. He comes across as a harmless enough character, a family man with a good work record. But old Jo Mizen, who I know to be as straight as a die, insists he misled the coroner over the discussion they had on the morning of Nichol’s murder. In the circumstances, it would be silly not to check him out further.

                  When I do so, I discover his name isn’t Cross at all. It’s Lechmere. Interviewed a second time he seems a little sheepish, but explains that Cross was his stepfather’s name and he was still known in some quarters by it. Nothing much else to go on at this point, so I leave it at that.

                  A little over a year later I am called to Pinchin Street in St George in the East, where the torso of a woman has been discovered. The head and legs had been removed from the body and were never found. There was a deep gash to the abdomen. At the inquest Dr Bagster Phillips subsequently gave the opinion that the dismemberment had been carried out by someone ‘accustomed to cut up animals’.

                  There is a horrible smell in the area, more than can be explained by the decomposition of the torso, and when I mention it, my constable explains that it probably comes from the horse meat establishment just a few yards away. I look to where the constable is pointing and as I’m looking the door opens and who should come out, but the same Cross/Lechmere fellow who was discovered by the body of Polly Nicholls in ’88. ‘Ello, ‘ello’, I mutter to myself, the hairs rising on the back of my neck.

                  Back at the station I retrieve the file containing my interview with Lechmere and it dawns on me that the man had a reason to be walking East/West along either Whitechapel Road or Hanbury Street on the days and at around the times of the five murders carried out on working days. The double event doesn’t quite fit the pattern either geographically or in respect of time, but that was a weekend and if my memory serves, ah yes, his previous address was just a few streets away from Berners Street and his mother and daughter still lived there.

                  I call the man in for a third time. He arrives, apparently straight from work, wearing a grubby apron. During the interview he gives nothing away, and in particular he blithely bats away any suggestion that he tried to hoodwink Mizen or that there was anything sinister in his use of the name Cross. Either as innocent as a lamb or a very cool customer.

                  However, in the course of the conversation it is revealed that this dishevelled workman has, or believes he has, an illustrious ancestry. And had it not been for a wastrel grandfather his position in life would have been considerably better than that of a humble carman.

                  Obviously there’s no hard evidence. No bloody knife or mummified body parts found in his possession, but something doesn’t quite feel right.

                  I take my suspicions to the Chief and when I have finished his response is…

                  (Here’s where you get a chance to play. Choose one from the following: )

                  ‘Absolutely absurd, don’t waste any more time on him.’ Or,

                  ‘You may have something there, Old Boy, dig a little deeper and see what you can find’.

                  MrB
                  Let´s be biased enough to suggest that the latter alternative becomes the chosen one. If so, you will inevitably return in thought to the Nichols murder, since that was when the carman surfaced.

                  You and everybody else have been working from the assumption that the carman arrived only a few seconds ahead of Robert Paul, but since you have now begun to take an interest in Lechmere, you of course check whether this holds true.
                  To your amazement, you realize that it is only the carmans assertions that points to him not having had the time to committ the crime - strangely, Paul seems not to have heard or seen him in spite of having walked right behind him down Bath Street and Bucks Row.

                  You also note that Lechmere claims to have left home at 3.20 or 3.30, so you spend your lunch timing the walking distance and you find out that Lechmere should have been long gone at the stage when he "found" Nichols.

                  Then you think about the other victims that have surfaced. Weren´t they all put on display? Horrendous matters, with entrails spread over their bodies, splayed legs, explicite poses...?

                  So why was Nichols not posed like that, you ask yourself. And then you reealize that Lechmere could have conned Paul. He must have heard him as the latter entered Buck´s Row, you reason, and he must have decided not to run, but instead cover up what he did and take a chance. It is all beginning to make sense to you.

                  On the coffeebreak, you seek out Jonas Mizen. He is chewing at a bisquit when he answers your question if he really only spoke to Lechmere on that morning:

                  -Yeah, sure. That other weasly type sneaked away like a thief, he did, some way down Hanbury street before he stopped and waited for his mate.

                  But, you say, Lechmere said that both he and Paul spoke to you...?

                  -No, that´s not true. But there´s something wrong about that Lechmere bloke. All meek and quaint, but he didn´t remember things correctly. He told me about this other copper, see, and then he changed his mind although there WAS another copper in Bucks Row, that Neil fellow. It was all very odd.

                  -That´s why I didn´t rush off in a hurry. Why would I, if I had a colleague in place? It´d been another matter if that carman had told me that it was a serious matter, that she´d been cut, but he said nothing about that!

                  -He didn´t?

                  -Not a word. So there I was, trotting along at a gentle speed, and what happens? The woman proves to be more butchered than the average lamb in a slaughterhouse, and I look like a complete fool for not having rushed to Neils assistance.

                  -I mean, he MUST have known, mustn´t he?

                  +++++++++

                  After this, I´d say you will begin to be pretty damn sure that you´ve nailed your man.

                  All the best,
                  Fisherman
                  Last edited by Fisherman; 08-31-2014, 05:32 AM.

                  Comment


                  • Originally posted by Lechmere View Post
                    I presume you are referring to me as the toady Patrick. As ever your ignorance is manifest as is your inability to conduct yourself with a semblance of politeness. That is par for the course with you.. Enjoy your sad negative obsession.
                    Sorry. Is Fish the toady? I assume that's what's upset you. I don't want to confuse rank, do I?

                    Polite? That's how I began this discussion many months ago. Alas, when confronted with an arrogant, patronizing tone by a couple of hustlers with a vastly overestimated opinion of their own intelligence, I abandon politeness and respond in kind. After all, I know the exact post that made me realize the sort of arrogant ugliness I was dealing with. All was sweetness and light until it was clear I had questions as opposed to blind faith and support for your nonsensical tripe. I mean, obviously I'm not the only one you spar with, am I?

                    Further, my '"obsession" (it's more of a light diversion, really) with you and YOUR toady is anything but sad. It's quite entertaining and, in spite of it's tone, somewhat productive, when answers are forthcoming.

                    I'm ready for a more positive course of debate anytime you say the word. In my view, your attitude, delivery, and pugilistic manner are not doing service to your work.

                    Comment


                    • Originally posted by Fisherman View Post
                      Let´s be biased enough to suggest that the latter alternative becomes the chosen one. If so, you will inevitably return in thought to the Nichols murder, since that was when the carman surfaced.

                      You and everybody else have been working from the assumption that the carman arrived only a few seconds ahead of Robert Paul, but since you have now begun to take an interest in Lechmere, you of course check whether this holds true.
                      To your amazement, you realize that it is only the carmans assertions that points to him not having had the time to committ the crime - strangely, Paul seems not to have heard or seen him in spite of having walked right behind him down Bath Street and Bucks Row.

                      You also note that Lechmere claims to have left home at 3.20 or 3.30, so you spend your lunch timing the walking distance and you find out that Lechmere should have been long gone at the stage when he "found" Nichols.

                      Then you think about the other victims that have surfaced. Weren´t they all put on display? Horrendous matters, with entrails spread over their bodies, splayed legs, explicite poses...?

                      So why was Nichols not posed like that, you ask yourself. And then you reealize that Lechmere could have conned Paul. He must have heard him as the latter entered Buck´s Row, you reason, and he must have decided not to run, but instead cover up what he did and take a chance. It is all beginning to make sense to you.

                      On the coffeebreak, you seek out your mate Mizen. He is chewing at a bisquit when he answers your question if he really only spoke to Lechmere on that morning:

                      -Yeah, sure. That other weasly type sneaked away like a thief, he did, some way down Hanbury street before he stopped and waited for his mate.

                      But, you say, Lechmere said that both he and Paul spoke to you...?

                      -No, that´s not true. But there´s something wrong about that Lechmere bloke. All meek and quaint, but he didn´t remember things correctly. He told me about this other copper, see, and then he changed his mind although there WAS another copper in Bucks Row, that Neil fellow. It was all very odd.

                      -That´s why I didn´t rush off in a hurry. Why would I, if I had a colleague in place? It´d been another matter if that carman had told me that it was a serious matter, that she´d been cut, but he said nothing about that!

                      -He didn´t?

                      -Not a word. So there I was, trotting along at a gentle speed, and what happens? The woman proves to be more butchered than the average lamb in a slaughterhouse, and I look like a complete fool for not having rushed to Neils assistance.

                      -I mean, he MUST have known, mustn´t he?

                      +++++++++

                      After this, I´d say you will begin to be pretty damn sure that you´ve nailed your man.

                      All the best,
                      Fisherman
                      Oh, dear. It's even worse than I thought.

                      Comment


                      • Dear Fish,

                        All along I have been working on the assumption that the time discrepancy potentially gave Lech another 10 mins or so with the body. Perhaps I should have included that in my fictional account.

                        Of the two possible responses I suggest above, the only one that makes sense to me is, 'Dig a little deeper, old boy.'

                        That's where I and I'm sure a lot of other fair minded people are. You've got a case that had it been outlined to the police at the time would have lead to them considering Lech as a person of interest. And if that's as far as it goes, backed up with some interesting background it will make a good read. By no means, Case Closed, but an intriguing possibility.

                        MrB

                        Comment


                        • Just goes to show...

                          Just goes to show how silly 'Ripperologists' can be when they get a bee in their bonnet about a certain 'suspect' (or non-suspect, depending on how you see it).
                          Last edited by Stewart P Evans; 08-31-2014, 05:40 AM.
                          SPE

                          Treat me gently I'm a newbie.

                          Comment


                          • As a comparative outsider it presents to me as an amusing parlour game. So long as people adhere to rules: no lies , no excessive stretching of facts and no personal animosity it's surely harmless enough. And if it encourages people to scurry off and research obscure little byways that's all to the good.

                            If all posterity ever gets from the Crossmere debate is
                            a photo of Charles and his family's rags to riches story, it will not have been a total waste of time.

                            MrB

                            Comment


                            • I'm sorry...

                              I'm sorry, I'm too cynical by far. It's a result of being a police officer for nearly thirty years.
                              SPE

                              Treat me gently I'm a newbie.

                              Comment


                              • One thing

                                There is only one thing worse than taking this subject too seriously - and that is taking yourself too seriously.
                                SPE

                                Treat me gently I'm a newbie.

                                Comment

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