22nd October 1888
Reference Numbert18881022-963
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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963. JAMES McKILL (21) was indicted for the wilful murder of John King.



JOHN MATTISON . I was a fireman on board the Olmutz, belonging to the Orient Line, coming from Sydney to London—the prisoner came by the ship as a stowaway—John King was a passenger; he was a man about my height and size, but older, with a fair moustache—I am 27; he was above 30, I should say—we arrived in London on 11th September—four of the crew were going to Glasgow—I did not see King till night at St. Pancras Midland Station—I also saw the prisoner there—the train left there about half-past 9, I think—the prisoner was drunk—I was drunk; I was drinking all day—I got out at the first station after St. Pancras, Kentish Town—I could not tell for certain who was in the

same compartment with me when the train started, but there were some besides the prisoner and King; there were four of us at least—the prisoner wore a seafaring cap, like this (produced)—King was wearing a soft felt hat, like this—I don't remember anything taking place in the carriage except the prisoner and King having some words; I could not tell what it was about—they seemed as if they were going to take off their coats; I don't know whether they did—as soon as the train stopped after leaving St. Pancras I got out—I don't know whether anybody got out before me or not—I got into another compartment; Charles Lee was in that compartment—he had a bottle of whisky of mine—he was a fireman on board the ship—I don't know where I travelled to; I woke next morning in the Royal Infirmary at Leicester—I had an accident in the carriage; my head was damaged.

Cross-examined. The prisoner and King had no words or quarrel on the passage home to my knowledge—I had been drinking on this day, but not along with King; he was not in my company—I do not remember before we started from St. Pancras King calling to a man to open the door and let him out, saying that he had two bottles of whisky that he wanted to get at; he told me he had a bottle at 1s. 8d. in another carriage, and I had one at 1s. 6d. in another carriage—I don't remember the people singing as we left St. Pancras—I don't know in what part of the train King's luggage was.

CHARLES LEE . I was a fireman on board the Olmutz; I live at Glasgow—on the night of 11th September I went to St. Pancras station to go to Glasgow; the prisoner was there, King, Mattison, and other men—they were drunk, I was sober—at Kentish Town Mattison got into my compartment—the prisoner and King were in a different carriage—Mattison travelled on with me to Leicester; on the way he tumbled against the window and hurt his head, and he was taken out at Leicester—there were seven in the carriage before Mattison came in, he made the eighth—none of the others had come from the ship except the engineer—I cannot tell whose caps these are—I can't tell what the prisoner was wearing, the other is very like King's, but I can't swear to it—I could not say whether the prisoner wore a shirt or not.

ALFRED WHITBREAD . I am an omnibus driver in the service of the Midland Railway Company—on Tuesday night, 11th September, I travelled by the train which left St. Pancras at 9 15 in a third-class compartment—I could not say that the prisoner was in the carriage, he is very much like the man; I recognise Mattison as one of the party, and King also, and a sailor I brought with me from "Waterloo—between St. Pancras and Kentish Town there was a disturbance between Mattison and King—Mattison sat with his back to the engine with his coat off, the two got up to fight; I prevented them by pushing them back on to the seat—the prisoner then took off his coat and said he would fight any one in the carriage; I pushed him down on his seat and made him put his coat on, and told him I would have him out at the next station—King and Mattison shook hands when they found the train slackening; they were all quiet then—the prisoner and King put on their coats, Mattison sat with his off—the prisoner was wearing a striped shirt, I did not notice the colour of the stripes—this (produced) is the kind of shirt—both King's pockets were bulged out with bottles, he said they were lemonade bottles—I should say there were two or three in each pocket; I noticed that when he took his coat off—the remained in his pockets

when he put his coat on—I got out at Kentish Town, taking the sailor with me—I left the prisoner King and Mattison in the carriage—I at once joined another train, a local one, but I waited till the train started and saw nothing more of them—I heard next afternoon of a body being found in the tunnel—it took about five minutes to travel from St. Pancras to Kentish Town.

Cross-examined. I got in at St. Pancras about three minutes before the train started—the deceased was a stoutly-built man, much bigger than the prisoner—I took the sailor out of the carriage at Kentish Town, and put him in another, because I saw that these men were drunk—he was going to Glasgow.

By the JURY. I did not see anything the matter with the carriage door when I left Kentish Town; it was not locked—I closed it behind me when I left—Mattison was inside—the prisoner had on a waistcoat over his shirt.

JOHN BROWN . I am a ticket examiner at St. Pancras—I saw the dead body at the inquest, and identified it as that of a passenger by the 9 15 Scotch express from St. Pancras on 11th September—I put him into a third class smoking compartment—he appeared sober; he had had a little drink—almost immediately after he got in the prisoner came up; they seemed to know each other then—Mattison came up some time later, some little time before the train started—the deceased called me to the carriage door, and said he wished to get out—I asked what for—he said he had two bottles of whisky somewhere in the train—I asked him where it was—he said in his baggage—I said "You will be unable to interfere with your baggage now, there is not time" and he did not ask any more—when he entered the carriage I saw that he had some bottles, which he afterwards told me was lemonade—he said "I have some lemonade here, but I want the whisky"—the luggage compartment was in the next compartment of the carriage he was in—before the train started I saw Mattison without his coat and his waistcoat unfastened—I saw Whitbread in the train—I could not say whether there was a fifth man in the compartment when the train started—I spoke to the four men—they seemed to be on very friendly terms when they started; they had been singing.

Cross-examined. I locked the door after the two first passengers entered—the door was locked when the deceased said he wanted to get out—I did not unlock it.

By the COURT. They were in a third-class smoking compartment of a compound—there were three luggage lockers, four third class compartments, and three first—the luggage lockers are at each end of the train, two thirds came next at each end, and the three firsts are in the middle of the train—the deceased and the prisoner were in the first third compartment, next to the luggage locker, next to the Pulman car—the door on the platform side was left unlocked; the door on the other side was locked.

JOHN SMITH . I was guard of this train—Kentish Town was the first stopping-place; it stops there two minutes; it takes five minutes to get there—the train started punctually—I saw two seafaring men in a third smoking when we left Kentish Town, in the front compartment of the first from the engine—I do not identify the prisoner, but I identified the body of King as one of the two men—there were no other persons in that compartment—they got out of the carriage on to the platform at Kentish

Town, and I ordered them back—they got back, and the door of the carriage was properly closed by one of the men at the station; I was standing close by when it was done—the train went through Haverstock Hill tunnel on to Finchley Road Station, but our first stop was at Bedford—I there noticed the compartment where the two men had been—I was passing the compartment, and seeing the window down I saw only one man in the compartment—he was lying all his length on the seat with his back to the door—he had not to show his ticket there—the train left Bedford in due course—later on in the journey I saw the same man in the game compartment—at Carlisle I saw the ticket-collector shake him up and show his ticket—we rest there and at Dumfries—at Leicester I saw Mattison turned out of the train, injured and bleeding from a broken window—he was taken out of the last compartment of the same carriage—I went on with the train to Glasgow—we stopped at Kilmarnock; we were due there at 6 57; we were about one minute late—from Kilmarnock to Glasgow took about 35 minutes—I afterwards heard of the body being found in the tunnel and the shirts and cap—I have had the spot pointed out to me where the body was found, near the fourth air hole—the train would cover the distance from Kentish Town to that spot in three minutes and a half, and from that to where the shirts and cap were found about a minute and a half, going at the ordinary pace—I saw nothing wrong with the door of the compartment at Bedford; I was close to it, and if there had been anything wrong with it I should have seen it—it is a very important part of my duty to see to the doors as the train moves away.

Cross-examined. This carriage was the third from the break—I was at the back—there were about five carriages in front of this—I am not far from my break as a rule when the train is about to start—I may be at my break or I may be at a carriage a long way from it—I am responsible for the train—at Kentish Town, when I saw the three men on the plat form, I said "What do you want to be out here for? get back again; there is no time"—I spoke rather sharply—the deceased did not tell me that he wanted to go to another carriage; that was at St. Pancras—I saw him apparently trying to open the door, and I said "What do you want?"—he said "I want to go to my friends"—that might be five minutes before the train started—I understood that they were all of the same party—he did not say why he wanted to go there, no more than he wanted to ride with his friends—I said "Stay where you are; you have more room there, and you will be better where you are"—I did not try the door then—I saw that he could not turn the handle—I only saw two men on the platform at Kentish Town—I did not see the third one on the platform; the two might be as far as the door of the next compartment—I saw that they did get into the same smoking compartment, and I saw the door shut, and gave the signal for the train to start—there was nothing to attract my attention at Bedford when I saw only one man in the compartment; the window was down—if a man in that compartment wanted to get towards the luggage locker he would have to open the door, close it, and then get round it—it opens towards the engine—he would have to close the door before he could get past it—the door does not go quite back against the side of the carriage; there is a strap and indiarubber to protect it—a door is sometimes left open—there would be a few inches space between the door and the side of the tunnel; I can't tell the distance; it is one of the widest tunnels we have—I did not speak to the man at Bedford; I thought he was asleep.

By the JURY. The carriage door would not be locked when the train left Kentish Town, only the one on the off side.

HUGH MICKLE . I am a greengrocer, of 4, Duke Street, Kilmarnock—on Wednesday morning, 12th September, at four minutes past 7, I got into the train there to go to Glasgow—George Cowan was a fellow traveller—we got into a third class smoking carriage—the prisoner was there, on the left hand side, the side next the platform as you look towards the engine—we three were the only passengers in that compartment—after we started I commenced chatting with the prisoner—he commenced talking about the Colonies—he said he had come as a stowaway from Sydney, and he commenced to tell us about having a quarrel with a man in the train, and they had a fight, and ultimately they put him out of the window—his words were "I had a quarrel with a gentleman, and I received a blow in the right cheek"—he said after the struggle he opened his coat, and took off his shirts, as they were torn and stained with blood, and throw them out of the window—I asked him what the gentleman was like—he said he was a gruff sort of man, stouter than himself—he opened his coat and vest to show us that he had no shirt on—he said his father was a chemist in Hamilton, and he was going to Paisley Road, Glasgow, before he went home—he had a bottle of what I supposed was whisky, but I did not taste it, in his left hand coat pocket—he offered it me, but I did not take any—I noticed a mark on his right cheek, like a bruise; the skin was not broken—he was wearing a soft felt hat, something like this—the carriage was very wet—there was a little blood on the window next the platform, and a little on the floor opposite the prisoner—I put up the window shortly after we started from Kilmarnock—the mark on the window might be a spit, like a spit out of the mouth, and a hand drawn over it—the stain on the floor seemed to be mixed with water; the floor was very wet—there was not much blood; it was just visible; it covered about 2 or 3 inches—I left the train at Glasgow; the prisoner got out first—my friend and I went about our business at Glasgow—on the following Tuesday, the 18th, I saw Monday's paper, the Scottish Reader, on my way to Glasgow in the train—in consequence of what I read there about an inquest on a Mr. King I communicated with the police at Glasgow—I made a statement to Inspector Bannister, which was read over to me, and I signed it—this (produced) is it.

Cross-examined. I paid attention to what the prisoner said; he did the talking mostly, it was rather a friendly talk—I only remember one story—I said before the Magistrate, "He told us a lot of yarns; I took no notice of the yarns; I did not believe this story at the time, I thought it was sailor's boasting"—according to his account he had thrown the man out of the window, not out of the door; the door and the window is one thing—I have given three statements altogether—I have always said that he said he threw the man out of the window—if I had believed there was any truth in the story, I should certainly have spoken to somebody at the station—the way this began was his offering us both drink, we would not have any, he had some himself—we were travelling with him 35 minutes—he kept on talking pretty nearly all the time—there was no mark of blood on him—I don't know that the mark on his face might have been from lying on his hands asleep—Mr. Cowan saw it—there was a little swelling as well; there was a good deal of spitting about the floor, tobacco juice, as if sailors had been chewing and

spitting about a good deal—I have said "I did not pay much attention to his stories, as they seemed to be sailor's yarns, and very likely to be untrue"—that was my impression—there was nothing disarranged about the carriage.

Re-examined. He was quite sensible, he did not seem to be drunk, or anything approaching it—the bottle was nearly full—there were no bars across the window—I doubt whether he could have thrown a man through it—he did not say where he had got the bottle of spirits.

JOHN COWAN . I am a gardener at Dean Mount, Kilmarnock—on Wednesday morning, 12th September, about 7 o'clock, I was with Mr. Mickle at Kilmarnock station, we got into a third class compartment and travelled to Glasgow, the prisoner was in the carriage, no one else—he asked what place this was—I said Kilmarnock—after getting into conversation, he said he had travelled from England and he felt a little fatigued and he drew out his bottle and had a drink, he offered it to me, I tasted it and said it was rum—he told us he had come from Sydney as a stowaway—I told him that Mickle had been in America, so Mickle joined in the conversation for a short time—after that he told us that there had been a man in the compartment when he joined the train in England, and he was sitting at the far end of the compartment, that he seemed to be a strange looking man, and that he was looking very suspiciously at him—every time he moved his body his eyes were fixed upon him—so he took a drink out of his bottle, and then offered it to the stranger, but I can't say whether he took it or not, but he said the stranger was the worse for drink; that after having offered him the drink the stranger asked him if he could do anything with his fists, he replied that he did not know, but he could defend himself—with that the stranger struck him on the side of the right cheek—that he then took off his coat and fought him, and after that he threw him out of the door—I asked him if he did not look to see what had become of the man; he said yes, he looked out and saw him go past, the same as if he was looking for another compartment, and after that he opened up his coat breast, and showed us that he had no shirts on—he was wearing nothing under his coat—I could see that he had no shirt on—I asked him what had become of his shirts—he said he had got them so much torn, dirty and blood-stained that he had taken them off and thrown them out on the rails—that he had two shirts, a coarse one and a fine one or a heavy one and a light one—after that the conversation was about his coming home from Sydney as a stowaway, and that after he had been discovered on board he got 2l. odd for his work during the voyage—he said that he was going home to Hamilton to see his father, a druggist there, and that he had been five years out in Sydney—there was a blood stain on the window-glass inside—he said he had got a blow on his mouth from the strange man, and that the blood came from a spit out of his mouth—he said that he was going to call on some party at Glasgow, but I don't remember the name or address—so I told him it would be much better if he could get his face washed, for it looked very dirty, also to try and get a shirt to make himself look respectable with he was going home to see his mother, and I think he said he would try to get a shirt when he went to Glasgow—he was not to say either sober or drunk, like a man half in between—I saw him taking drink, he was not like a man the worse for liquor when we joined the train—that is all I can remember—we got out at St. Enoch's Station, Glasgow—we passed the

prisoner on the platform, and I never saw him after till I identified him at the Central police-office—I said nothing about this conversation, and knew nothing about the case till Inspector Bannister came to my place on the 20th between 6 and 7 in the morning—I made a statement to Inspector Bannister, which he read it over, and I signed it.

Cross-examined. The prisoner first spoke to me in the carriage—he started by offering us drink—I am quite positive it was rum—he told us a good many yarns, in fact I put it down as a yarn from first to last—I did not contradict him at all—the mark on his face was a slight one, such as a man might get by sleeping for some hours on his hands—I saw no signs of any struggle in the carriage, the floor was very dirty and wet, I saw no signs of blood on the floor—he looked as if he was fatigued—I saw no blood upon him—I put his conversation down to Bailor's bounce.

JOHN FIDDES (Glasgow Policeman D 54) On Wednesday, 7th September, about 10 40 a m., I found the prisoner lying drunk in Eglinton Street—I took him into custody—he was wearing a soft felt hat like the one produced—at the station he gave his name as James McKill, but refused his address—he was kept in custody during the day and night, and was brought before the Magistrate next day—he had no shirt on when I found him—I found 1s. 10d. on him, no bottle—I did not observe any mark on his face—he was fined 5s., but failing to find it he was imprisoned four days.

Cross-examined. The place where I found him was about three-quarters of a mile from the station he had come from; he was lying there hopelessly drunk, not unconscious, I had to rouse him—he was not able to walk.

WILLIAM SIMPSON . I am a labourer at Glasgow—on 12th September I was in the police-station at Glasgow charged with an assault—I was neither drunk nor sober—I was put in a cell; the prisoner was in the cell the worse for drink—we two were in the cell all night; we slept ourselves sober—he had no shirt on—I asked him what he had done with his shirt—he said "Coming down in the train I had a fight with a man and he tore my shirt; I had two shirts on and I took them off and threw them out of the carriage window because they were torn"—he said he had come from Sydney as a stowaway, and that his father lived at Hamilton—on 1st October I read in a newspaper an account of the death of John King—I then went to the police—I was discharged by the Magistrate next morning.

Cross-examined. He told me that when he got to Glasgow he did not know whether he had any money or not.

JOHN SMITH . I am an inspector in the service of the South-Western Railway Company—on Wednesday morning, 12th September, after the 9 15 train from St. Pancras arrived at Glasgow it was shunted and put on a siding—about 11 I was sent to examine the train in consequence of a telegram that came—in one of the third-class compartments at the rear there was a window broken, and the carriage was rather in a filthy state, and there was blood on the cushion and on the floor—I think it was not a smoking compartment—I also examined the front compartment of the same carriage, that was also in a filthy state, but I did not observe any blood in it, the floor was wet and there was tobacco juice, like sailors chewing and spitting about—I saw no trace of blood—I

examined the window, there was a blind to it—I saw no trace of any blood there—there were no bars to the window; when the window is let down the space is open—I noticed nothing on the outside—I examined the carriage carefully.

WILLIAM FRANKLIN . I am a platelayer in the service of the Midland Railway Company—at a quarter past 7 on Wednesday morning, 12th September, I was in the Haverstock Hill tunnel and found the body of a man between the outside rails and the wall, on the down passenger line, about half a mile from the London entrance to the tunnel near No 4 air shaft—I informed the station master at Haverstock Hill, got assistance and put the body on the platform and left it in charge of the police.

Cross-examined. There was a little mark on the wall of the tunnel, I could not say what it was, it might be a man's hand or a stick—the mark went about seven or eight feet, I could only see one mark—we thought it looked as if a finger had been drawn along the wall—there was not any bloodstain—the wall is dry, the steam would make the roof wet, the brickwork is rough.

JOHN COCKAYNE . I am a signalman in the service of the Midland Railway Company—on Wednesday morning, 12th September, about 6 o'clock, I was going on duty, and about 100 yards from the north end of the Finchley Road Station, I found these two shirts (produced) on the near side of the down passenger line from London, outside the rails—the shirts were close together, and this cap, about half a yard apart—I did not take them up, I moved them, just to see that there was nothing in them, and left them in about the same place—Mr. Harris came and took them up, they were put into the signal-box—I heard where the body was found, I should say that was upwards of three-quarters of a mile from where I found the shirts.

RICHARD HARRIS . I am foreman of the platelayers—on Wednesday morning, 12th September, about 25 minutes past 6, I saw the two shirts and the cap lying on the railway beyond the outside rail of the down line, about 100 yards from the near end of the platform of the Finchley Road Station—I picked them up, they were put in the signal-box and the police had charge of them.

FREDERICK SOMERS (Police Inspector Y.) On 12th September I saw the dead body of the deceased—I searched it, and found documents showing him to be John King—these two shirts and cap were handed to me that day by Cockayne—I afterwards saw the station master examine the tunnel where the body was found, I made notes at the time of what I found—Reading: " We found between the metals some brains and a piece of jaw, they were taken to the mortuary—on the tunnel wall, 44 feet from where deceased was found, at a height of 7 feet 4 inches, we found on the wall marks as if some hands had come in con tact with it—those marks extended at that height 6 feet, then gradually dropped for a distance of 10 feet, where the feet appeared to strike the wall at a height of about 2 feet, and descended until they struck the ballast, we could see the impressions of them against the ballast, there were marks there of the body coming in contact with the wall at a height of 2 feet, extending to a distance of 12 feet; the marks then ceased, the body being found at a distance of 16 feet further on towards Finchley"—I measured the height from the top of the carriage door

to the ballast, it was about 10 feet 8 inches; the door if open would be 3 feet 4 inches from the metals, leaving a space of 71/4 inches between the open door and the tunnel wall—I noticed the clothes of the deceased, there was no blood about them, they were very black and his hands were very black; the walls of the tunnel are of a slimy nature; if you put a hand upon it, it is very difficult to get it off again.

Cross-examined. The deceased's clothes were not at all disarranged; I found his money, watch, and everything complete.

By the COURT. I could not see any tear, but the doctor afterwards told me he saw a slight slit in the coat—his clothes were generally black—he had laid there some time—the hands were very black; they were not scratched—I saw no blood.

WILLIAM REECE . I am a registered medical practitioner—on Wednesday morning, 12th September, I went to Haverstock Hill Railway station, and there saw the body of a man that had been found in the tunnel—about two-thirds of the head was removed from the remaining portion, the bones were broken, and the brains scattered about, and part of the left jaw—I afterwards made a more careful examination at the mortuary—the injuries to the head were the cause of death—the hands were dirty, but there was no indication of abrasion or scratches on them—on the right knee there were two small abrasions, the size of about one-tenth of an inch, and also on the left thigh there was a small mark, otherwise the whole body was free from marks—these injuries may have arisen from a fall or by coming in contact with the wall—there must have been great violence to produce the injury to the head—the clothes were intact except a small tear on the left sleeve of the coat, about two-thirds of the way up—it was hardly large enough to have occurred by coming in contact with the tunnel—it was a very small rent, not an inch in length.

Cross-examined. The injuries I saw were not such as would have been caused in a fight—I saw no signs of any struggle—if the mark on the cheek was caused by a blow it must have been very slight indeed; it might possibly remain for a few hours; I don't think it would remain as long as 10 hours—it would be likely to remain 10 hours if there was an abrasion.

THOMAS BANNISTER (Police Inspector S) I heard of the body being found, and had charge of the case—after the inquest, on the night of 19th September, I went to Hamilton, and next day saw Mr. Mickle and Mr. Cowan, and took from them the two statements produced, which they both signed—on the 21st I went to the prisoner's father's at Wood Leigh, Portland Park, Hamilton—he is a chemist, and has two shops in Hamilton, and is a respectable man—I saw the prisoner there—I told the parents that I wanted to see him, and he came outside—I said "I am a police-officer from London, and am making inquiry about John King being found dead on the railway in London, and some shirts found on the line—he said "I had my shirt on when I arrived here in Hamilton"—I said "We had better not have any conversation till we get to the station"—he went to the station with me and Superintendent Miller—I there said "I have come to make inquiry about John King, who is said to have ridden with you from Kentish Town Station in a third-class carriage on the night of the 11th, and whose dead body was afterwards found on the line in Haverstock Hill tunnel; you are not called upon to make any

statement, and you need answer no questions, but if you do I will write it down, and in the event of any charge being made against you, it may be used against you; I will read you the statement made to-day"—I then read over to him Mr. Mickle's statement—he said "I wish to make a statement I know the man you speak of to be a passenger on the same boat as ours; he was at St. Pancras Station; we were the worse for drink I got into the train, and fell asleep at once, as I had been drinking, and I don't know whether any one else got into the carriage When I awoke they were taking tickets; the railway official shook me, and woke me up, and I did not sleep in the train any more I said nothing to any man about what is contained in this statement you have just read On arriving at Glasgow I sold the shirt I was wearing to a strange man for 1s. to get drink On Wednesday afternoon I was locked up at Glasgow for being drunk, and had five days' imprisonment I was released on Monday morning I know nothing about the death I did not hear of his having met with any misfortune till I was told of it on my arrival at home This statement I have made at my own desire I sold the shirt to a man in the street "He signed that statement, and was kept at the police-station—I afterwards went to his mother, and got his coat, waistcoat, trousers, and hat—there were no marks upon any of them—next morning, the 21st, I took the prisoner to Glasgow, and telegraphed to Mickle and Cowan to attend there and see him—he was placed with seven others, and they both identified him—on that occasion I read over to him the statement Cowan had made—he made no remark upon it—he was then charged, taken before a Magistrate at Glasgow, and remitted to London on the 24th—in the train he said "It is a pity I don't know who I sold my shirt to in Glasgow; I know that is the dead man's hat," referring to this felt hat, "but I told them at Hamilton it was not mine; I had a cap; I don't know what became of mine"—I afterwards fitted the cap on him at the police-court; it appeared to fit him—he said "Yes, that is mine"

JAMES BRIGGS . I am a civil engineer on the Midland Railway—this is a section showing the tunnel from Haverstock Hill toward Finchley Road Station—the proper name of it is Bellsize tunnel—I have drawn upon it one of the bogey carriages showing the position of the tunnel northwards—there is room for a carriage door to open wide; there would be a slight clear space—it is about 31/2 feet from the bottom of the door to the wall, from the footboard to the ballast is about 3 feet 6 inches, and from the ballast to the top of the door is about 10 feet 8 inches—the body was found about the fourth air-hole; that was 2,368 yards from Kentish Town Station, and to the shirts and cap about 100 yards from the north end of the platform—the aperture of the window when down is about 2 feet 3 inches high, and 1 foot 7 inches wide

Cross-examined. There are two steps to the carriage, one a little below the floor, and the other lower down—the minimum space between the tunnel and the door when open is 4 inches—facing the engine the door opens from you

JAMES CARRUTHERS . The deceased, John King, was my brother-in law—he had been to Australia in April—I expected him home on 11th September—he was 39 years of age—I received a communication from the police and came to London and identified his body at the inquest—he was about 5 feet 8 inches—he was not a vigorous man;

he was broad shouldered, and pretty broad across the chest; he was a strongly made man—I last saw him in April this year.

INSPECTOR BANNISTER (Re-examined) I have examined the two shirts carefully, there are no marks of blood upon them; they are very much torn, the collar is torn down the front in both of them—they have been examined by Dr Stevenson.


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