Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 8.0, 04 December 2023), December 1907, trial of WOOD. Robert William Thomas George Cavers (t19071210-29).

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ROBERT WILLIAM THOMAS GEORGE CAVERS WOOD, Killing > murder, 10th December 1907.

WOOD. Robert William Thomas George Cavers . Wilful murder of Emily Elizabeth Dimmock. The like on coroner's inquisition.

Sir Charles Mathews, Mr. A. H. Bodkin, and Mr. I. A. Symmons prosecuted; Mr. Marshall Hall, K.C., Mr. Herman Cohen, Mr. Huntly Jenkins, and Mr. J. Lort Williams defended.

HENRY JOHN DIMMOCK , plasterer's labourer, Coventry Road, Kingsbury, Tarn worth, brother of deceased. I attended the inquest at the Coroner's Court, St. Pancras, on September 16 and saw the body of my sister, Emily Elizabeth Dimmock. She was 23 years of age and had been living in London about five years. I had last seen her alive at 31, Great College Street last Easter Sunday night. I thought then that she was married to Bertram Shaw, but I found out afterwards she was not. I did not notice a ring on the finger of her left band.

Cross-examined. I saw a paper on September 13 and saw the notice that a woman of the name of Emily Dimmock had been murdered in a house in St. Paul's Road.

Detective ALFRED GROS , Y Division. I have made a plan of St. Paul's Road and its neighbourhood (produced). The "Eagle" public-house at the corner of Great College Street is 720 yards from 29, St. Paul's Road. The distance from the "Eagle." to the "Rising Sun" in the Euston Road is one mile 318 yards by the moat direct route, via the Midland Road. The distance between 29, St. Paul's Road snd 12, Frederick Street, where prisoner lived, is 1 1/2 miles. No. 29, St. Paul's Road is situate between two electric lamps of the arc pattern, hung down from standards. The nearest of those is 22 2-3 yards away from the gateway. There is a very short forecourt, 13 ft. 9 in. The next lamp is 38 yards away, and the next nearest is 102 yards away. The main line of the Midland Railway runs undernesth St. Paul's Road. Within a range of 100 yards there are six arc electric lights on the line, which throw a light upwards in the direction of No. 29. I have made a plan showing the position of those lights on the railway, which I produce. The line is about 40 ft. below the road, and the standards are about 30 ft. high, making the lamps 10 ft. below the level of the road. In the first plan I have included a ground plan of the two rooms on the ground floor of 29, St. Paul's Road. The front door is approached through a gate which gives on to the street and a little forecourt, and then there are some steps. The ground floor consists of a sitting room in front and a bedroom at the back, there being communication between the two by means of folding doors. The front sitting room door opens into the hall. Anyone using a latchkey could get into the hall and into the sitting room probably without being heard by anyone in the house. I produce a photograph of the outside of the house. The houses are semi-detached. The front room is 12 ft. 3 in. wide and the back room 11 ft. 1 in. The bed is 4 £ft. by 6 ft. I produce a photograph of the back of the premises also.

Cross-examined. I was asked to make a plan showing the light coming from the Midland Railway at the latter part of last week. I call it an absolutely fair plan, from the point of view of a surveyor. I know that the Electric Light Company have informed the police that the electric standards in St. Paul's Road were extinguished at 4.40 on the morning of September 12 I have not heard McGowan say

that that morning was muggy and dark. If the electric lights were extinguished at that time they would be useless for the purpose of light at 4.55. If it was a dark and muggy morning some light it wanted from somewhere. I say the six lights on the railway throw light in the neighbourhood of No. 29. I do not suggest that they would throw light on the front room of No. 29. There is a big bush in front of No. 29. On September 12 the foliage would be at its densest and thickest. The houses on the opposite side of the road form a continuous row, except that they are semi-detached—a few feet apart. The depth of the houses is sufficiently great to exclude the angle at which light would come from the railway, so that for the purpose of light they would be a solid block of houses. The only light that could come would be light that was projected above the top of the houses and reflected downwards into the street. On a dark night there would be reflection at a greater distance. On a drizzly, thick, muggy morning the refractive power would be at its minimum. There is an 8 ft. wall on the bridge at both sides. What I say is that when all the lights are alight they cause a glare in the air. There is a very busy shunting station near. I have only shown lamps on the plan within a range of 100 yards, but there are 50 lamps higher up, which would make the glare greater. They do not increase the possibilities of refraction. I know what McGowan's evidence is. The are lamps are on standards with a rectangular arm and a drop. They are about 50 candle-power and give a white light. The houses in St. Paul's Road back on to the houses in St. Augustin's Road, which have short gardens. The footpath on the side of St. Paul's Road where No. 29 stands consists of the ordinary flag stones and the steps of the house are stone. It is possible that a man coming down those steps would have heard the footsteps of McGowan coming down the road.

BERTRAM JOHN EUGENE SHAW . I live at 29, St. Paul's Road, Camden Town, and am a dining-car attendant on the Midland Railway. I made the acquaintance of deceased about two years ago and lived with her from January of this year—first at 50, Great College Street, then at 31, College Street, then at St. Pancras Buildings, and finally at St. Paul's Road, where we had been for seven or eight weeks before her death. The last time I saw her alive was on September 11. On that day I went out at 4.30 p.m. as usual to join my train. Deceased had not been out that day. My usual time of returning is between 11 and 11.30 a.m. My train leaves St. Pancras at 5.42 for Sheffield, returning next morning at 7.20 am., so that I never was at home at night except on the Saturday. I had not been home regularly on week-day nights since Tuesday, June 27. When I returned home on the morning of the 12th I let myself in with a latch-key. I occupied the front parlour and room adjoining, the latter being the bedroom. The front room opens out on to the passage and the back room is entered through folding doors and has also a door into the passage. The keys of the folding doors, and of the door leading into the front room, were as a rule kept in the respective locks. Having let myself>

in by the front door, I tried to get into the front room, but the door was locked and there was no key there as there usually is. On my return from work I would usually find the deceased woman waiting for me and the rooms open for me to come into. I borrowed a key of the front room and entered it in that way. I noticed that all the drawers had been pulled out of the chest of drawers with the exception of the left-hand to drawer, and the contents were chucked about the floor. My razors were lying on the top of the cheat of drawers. They were usually kept in the top right-hand drawer. The key of the folding doors was not in the lock. The doors were locked and I burst them open. Before borrowing the key of the front room door I had tried the door of the back room leading into the passage. It was locked and the key inside. That door wise usually kept locked. The bed looked all of a heap. There is no doubt that whoever committed the murder must afterwards have come through the folding doors, locked them, taken the key, come out through the front room door, locked that on the outside and taken the key with him. There was no light in the room, and the daylight was shut out by the shutters. I went to the bed and pulled the clothes aside. I then saw the body of Emily Dimmock lying on the left side, her left arm stretched across her back and her right hand on the pillow. She was lying little bit on to her stomach, a little bit forward. Her throat was out and she was dead. The bolster was lying lengthways across her back under the clothes. I missed from the rooms a silver curb chain with a little matchbox attached, and a small charm; her purse, which I had seen the previous day (Wednesday) containing 5s.; a silver watch, a cigarette case with the initials "W. A. S." on the front, and two rings from her hand, a wedding ring and a curb keeper, from which people seeing her would think that she was married. I have not seen any of these things since. Deceased had a latchkey. I have not found either the latchkey, the key of the front room, or the key of the folding doors. Leaving everything as I found it I went for a constable, and Dr. Thompson, the divisional surgeon, came soon afterwards. My landlady was away when I burst open the folding doors, but she saw me previously. I knew of the deceased woman collecting post-cards. The album produced Was hers. The room was lighted by a lamp. There were signs of a lamp having been burnt out; the globe was all brown. The album was usually kept on a small table in the front room, and I think it was there when I went away on the Wednesday, but I cannot say for certain. On Thursday morning I found it on the sewing machine against the window in the front room. The shutters of the window of the front room ware partly open; there was a gap of about a foot. We were accustomed to close the shutters of the back room at night time. I moved from these rooms about a fortnight or three weeks after September 12. I am still in the same house, but in rooms upstairs. In preparing for moving I turned out the chest of drawers and found this (the "Rising Sun") postcard under the paper at the bottom of one of the drawers. There was a fold in the paper to make it fit the drawer, and as I lifted

the paper up I discovered the postcard. That occurred on Wednesday, September 27. I gave the card to Inspector Neil. The drawer had been searched before, but the card was not found until then; I did not know it was there.

Cross-examined by Mr. Marshall Hall. I had been living with the woman since January of this year, and had known her about two years. I did not know that she was living an immoral life. I knew that she had been living in a house of ill-fame before she came to live with me. I was giving her £1 a week. I consider that was ample for her, and that there was no necessity for her to go anywhere else from the point of view of getting money, because she did dressmaking herself. She paid the rent—6s. When I found the body it did not occur to me that the woman had committed suicide; I did not know what to think. Before searching the room I went for a police-constable. I feel quite sure the deceased had not been out on September 11 before I went to work. I had plenty of sleep at Sheffield. I found the postcard album on the machine. I do not know that deceased was in the habit of getting letters from people. She was not afraid of me in the slightest. I should have had no objection if a man had written a postcard to her if there was nothing in it. She always called me "Bert." It is not likely that she would have been frightened of my knowing that she had met a man who had given her a postcard. I have never been unkind to her in the slightest. I had never had any quarrel with her. I consider I had been particularly good to her. After I went to the police station I knew almost at once that Roberts had slept with Mrs. Shaw (Dimmock) on the Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday nights. I knew that Roberts had said that a postcard had been shown him by the dead woman and that she had put the postcard into one of the top small drawers of the chest-of-drawers. That is not the drawer in which I found it. Knowing that a man who had slept with this woman had said that a postcard on a particular night was put into a top drawer of that chest-of-drawers, the question being whether I ransacked the whole chest-of-drawers from top to bottom, what I did was in front of the police. We were looking for that postcard. I could not say how many policemen there were. A postcard is a thing that might get under a piece of paper, but I do not remember pulling the papers out of the chest-of-drawers. I was told that the letter of which we have heard was a letter signed "Bert." "Bert" is the name that this woman always called me. As a matter of fact, I did not write it to her; I swear it. I did not write to her anywhere from the train that night. Whenever I have written to her I have always signed the letter "Bert." I tell the Jury that, though searching on the night of September 14 with two policemen for a postcard in a chest-of-drawers. I did not find it until September 25, a fortnight later. I had been in the house since. Accidentally. 12 days later, I found this postcard and the piece of paper which I have produced. There was 5s. or 6s. in the purse when I saw it on the Wednesday. There might have

been gold in it for all I know. I heard the evidence of Roberts that he gave her 12s., 14s., and 16s. (two guineas) on the three nights. If that is true I do not know what hat been done with the two guineas. For all I know there might have been two sovereigns in the puree as well as the shillings. There is not much light in the early morning after the electric lamps are put out. I have not been there lately in the early morning. There is one tree outside the front door; it is a stunted tree and would darken the light into the front room.

Re-examined. I had known the woman about two years, and it was in January of this year that the first came to live with me. With regard to the postcard album I could not say whether I found it on the sewing machine or the chair near by. I believe it was on the machine, but I cannot say definitely. As I have said, the shutters of the front room were partly open. I slept in Sheffield on the night of September 11-12, and was teen there by a fellow employee. We slept in the tame street, in houses opposite. I heard Roberta's statement at the police station on the Thursday night (September 12). The postcard was mentioned, and the letter signed "Bert." The fragment of a letter produced is not in my handwriting. I do not know the handwriting at all. Roberta's statement was that the fragments of the letter produced (mounted on glass) were found in the fire grate in the back room, the bedroom.

Sir Charles Mathews asked if Mr. Marshall Hall desired to have the alibi of the witness proved.

Mr. Marshall Hall accepted the statement that witness was in Sheffield on this particular night.

Re-examination continued. I did not make a minute examination of the contents of the purse. I merely saw some silver and coppers. When I last saw her on the afternoon of September 11 she had on a brown velvet skirt, a light blouse, and her hair was in metal curlers. She was attending to the washing that day and I left her to employed.

To Mr. Marshall Hall. She was in the habit of keeping her hair in curlers in the day time.

To Mr. Justice Grantham. Her habit at night was to wear a night dress. I have never known her sleep nude.

SARAH ANN STOCKS , wife of George William Stocks, 29, St. Paul's Road, Camden Town. The man Shaw and the woman Emily Dimmock lodged with us. We knew them as Mr. and Mrs. Shaw, and previous to her death they had been there nine weeks, occupying two rooms on the ground floor and paying a rent of 8s. a week. I knew that Shaw was employed on the Midland Railway. On September 11 I was at home in. the afternoon and evening. Shaw left as usual about 4.30, and the woman was in the house then. She was employed washing in the washhouse in the yard at the back. After Shaw had gone she gathered up the linen and took it away. She afterwards went into the wash house several times to clear the place up, and the last time she was there was near eight o'clock.

I noticed that she had on a brown velvet skirt and light blouse, and her hair was in curling pins round the forehead. Besides folding her linen she tidied the rooms upstairs in expectation of Shaw coming home next day. The last time I saw her that evening was about eight o'clock. About 20 minutes past eight I heard the front door shut. She had a key of the front door. The key of the parlour was usually kept in the door inside. The key of the folding doors was generally kept in the door, and the key of the back room leading into the passage was generally kept in the door inside. I went to bed that night about five minutes to 11. By that time I heard no sound as of anyone going into the front room. Next morning I got up about eight o'clock. It was my habit to knock at the deceased woman's bedroom door. On the morning of September 12 I knocked at the door about nine o'clock and getting no answer I thought he was out. Mr. Shaw came home about the usual time, about 20 minutes past 11. I was present when he tried the parlour door, and I got the key that would fit it. I went into the room when he had opened the door. The drawers from the chest of drawers were piled up; some of them were on the floor. The shutters in the front room were shut with the exception of a gap of about one foot in the middle. Mr. Shaw forced open the folding doors and went into the bedroom. I saw the body of the woman lying on the bed and a good deal of blood, and then I went back to my kitchen. Afterwards a policeman came.

Cross-examined by Mr. Marshall Hull. My husband works on the railway, and we both of us get up early. I said before the magistrate that I did not know the life this woman was leading. I thought she was a respectable woman. She might have brought home a man without my knowing anything about it.

To Sir Charles Mathews. My husband used to leave work between half-past five and 20 minutes to six.

GEORGE WILLIAM STOCKS . I live at 29, St. Paul's Road, and emanengine cleaner in the employ of the London and North-Western Railway. On the morning of September 12 I left my house between 5.30 a.m. and 5.35 a.m. I wear a uniform. I get home in the evening about six o'clock or there about. On the evening of Wednesday, September 11, I saw Mrs. Shaw in the house engaged in washing. The last I saw of her was about five minutes past eight, and some few minutes after that I heard the front door shut. I noticed that her hair was still in curling pins. (Witness identified a photograph produced as that of the deceased woman.)

Cross-examined by Mr. Marshall Hall. When she went out she had a green costume on, not the costume she had been working in all day. I sign on at Granby Street, Hampetead Road, which if about 20 minutes from our place. I generally have a cup of tea before I go out; sometimes my wife gets it and sometimes I make it myself. As I get up about five o'clock I should have heard anybody moving about the house about that time. I did not hear anybody moving that morning (September 12).

Re-examined. The alarm went off that morning about 20 minutes to five. I did not trouble to get up then. I lay trill 20 minutes past five, and I had to make a rush to get to work by six.

JOHN THOMPSON , Divisional Surgeon. On September 12 I was called to 29, St. Paul's Road, and on arriving there went into the bedroom, situated on the ground floor. I saw a heap of clothes first of all. The bed had a very disarranged appearance. The clothes were all tossed about. The bolster was lying lengthwise at the back of the figure on the bed, and on removing the coverings I saw the nude figure of a dead woman. The bedclothes were all saturated in blood, and there was a stream of blood on the floor reaching to within a foot of the fender. The blood had gone through the bed. I first noticed a black spot on the back, which gave me the idea that there was a stab there, but on careful examination I found that it was a clot of blood which had dropped from the fingers of the left hand, which, had evidently been drawn across the back. I then saw a cut in the throat, which was not very visible at first because the chin was down towards the breast, but on raising the head slightly from the breast, I found an extensive cut, reaching from about three-quarters of an inch from the lobe of the left ear, very deep, and cutting through the arteries, veins, and nerves on that side towards the right side, cutting through the windpipe—in fact, separating everything to the vertebrae. The head was almost severed from the trunk, and was only held in position by the muscles at the back of the neck. The wound extended to the lobe of the right ear, but was not so deep on the right side as on the left. I formed the opinion that the wound must have been caused by a very sharp instrument, used with a very determined force. The cause of death was syncope, arising from the sudden loss of a quantity of blood. Death must have been almost instantaneous. It is quite impossible that such a wound could have been self-inflicted. The temperature of the body at the time I found it was quite cold. Judging from the rigor mortis, the woman must have been dead for several hours, but how long it would not be easy definitely to say. I made a post-mortem examination by order of the coroner, and amongst other things examined the contents of the stomach. She evidently had had supper, and among other things I found indications of mint, as though from mint sauce, and potatoes and bread. The stage which digestion had reached indicated that the meal had been taken about three and a half hours prior to her death, or it might be four. Digestions vary—some people digesting food more quickly than others, There were also indications that she had drunk something dark, which I thought was probably stout. When I saw the woman she was lying on her left side, rather inclining towards the stomach or chest. The right arm was lying on the pillow within 8 in. or 9 in. of the head. The left arm was lying across her back saturated with blood, which had dried on her hand, and there was also the clot on the back. The attitude was suggestive of natural sleep. Her head was still upon the pillow. The position of the left arm was scarcely

a natural position for a person to sleep in, but all the other portions of the body were natural, and I came to the conclusion that her left arm was placed in that position alter death by her assailant. The legs were drawn up in a very natural position. The right knee was resting just below the left knee. I formed an opinion as to how she had been attacked. I should say that the assailant was at her back on the bed between her and the wall. The head must have been slightly raised either by placing the hand under the forehead or by grasping the hair—more likely I should say by placing the hand on the forehead, raised sufficiently to get the sharp instrument as far back as possible to the throat. The head at first evidently was not raised sufficiently for the instrument to pass between the head and the bed. Consequently, there was a clean cut on the sheet and the tick of the bed. When a sufficient height had been obtained, it was simply a matter of a moment. There need not have been much blood necessarily on the assailant except upon the right hand. My attention was directed to the basin on the wash stand. The water in the basin was very much discoloured with blood, and in the basin there was a petticoat which might have been used for the purpose of cleansing, let us say, the hand. There were no finger marks upon it. There were two drops of blood on the cover of the washstand, probably dropped from the fingers in moving the hand towards the basin. There was a drop of blood on the soap dish cover and a drop on the jug, which was on the floor and nearly three parts full of clean water. Those were drops which might have come from the hand before it was put into the water for the purpose of getting rid of the blood which remained. I made an examination of the body for the purpose of seeing whether sexual connection had taken place within an appreciable time. There was a quantity of mucus, but after four or five microscopical examinations I failed to detect spermatozoa. The woman had suffered from syphilis, but not recently. There were a few skin marks, and it might have been 12 months since she had the disease. I noticed the condition of the woman's hair. There was a roll of curlers in front, and she had also some combs in her hair and a back comb was lying on the pillow as though it had fallen out of her hair. I do not remember seeing the woman's clothes.

Cross-examined. Before the magistrate I put the death at between 3.30 and four o'clock, being guided by the contents of the stomach and the time at which she probably had her supper. In my opinion there had been a digestive process going on for three or four hours. The assailant would not necessarily have to get over the body to get out of the bed on to the floor. He might have got out at the foot of the bed. When an artery is severed there is an enormous spurt of blood, but in this case the neck was towards the bed and the blood would spurt into the bed. If the wound was inflicted with a razor the razor must have been held in a firm grip, or a handkerchief might have been tied round the tang to keep the blade in position and hold it rigid. The razor, or whatever instrument was employed, would be simply swamped in blood, and it would be difficult to get

the blood out of the interstices between the blade and the handle of the razor. Under these circumstances I believe it would be difficult. I came to the conclusion for that reason that neither of the razors belonging to prisoner had been used.

Re-examined. A razor might be cleansed by putting it in water and wiping it with the petticoat. The petticoat in the washstand basin was saturated with water and blood. The indication in the basin might have been produced by the cleansing of the weapon as well as the washing of the bands.

Mr. Marshall Hall stated that the razors had been taken to pieces and microscopically examined, and no trace of blood had been found upon them.

Police-constable THOMAS KILLION , 418 Y, gave evidence as to being called on September 12 to 29, St. Paul's Road and remaining there until the arrival of Dr. Thompson.

THOMAS PERCIVAL ROBERTS , ship's cook, 31, College Place, N.W. My ship was paid off on August 30. I remember on Sunday, September 8, meeting Emily Dimmock in the Euston Road and going with her to the "Rising Bun." After remaining there a time I went with her to her lodgings at 29, St. Paul's Road. I went into the house about 10 o'clock and left just on closing time. She opened the door with a latchkey and took me into the sitting room and looked the door. The folding doors were then slightly ajar. We went through them into the bedroom and I passed the night with her. I left about half-past seven in the morning and gave her 16s. On the following night, September 9, I was again in the "Rising Sun" about six o'clock and remained some hours. Emily Dimmock; came in about eight o'clock She spoke to me. Prisoner Wood came in and the deceased went over and spoke to him, and they remained talking at the bar for some time. At about nine o'clock they both went out together, and I remained in the public-house till they returned about 11 o'clock. They stayed till 10 minutes past 12 and then went away together. A short time afterwards the woman came back by herself, and I again went with her to 29, St. Paul's Road. I remember the deceased woman taking a postcard from her bodice and showing it to me. It was signed by the Christian name "Alice." I gave her back the postcard and she put it in the left-hand drawer of the chest of drawers. I remained with her that night and left next morning at about half-past seven, paying her 14s. On the Tuesday evening I saw deceased again in the "Rising Sun" about eight o'clock and we went to the Euston Theatre together. We went back to the "Rising Sun" and had some refreshments and then returned to St. Paul's Road. I left next morning about half-past eight or a quarter to nine. On Wednesday morning, while I was in bed with her, I remember that there was a knock at the bedroom door and two letters were pushed under the door. One was an advertisement from a ladies' tailor and the other a private letter. After reading the letter the woman went to the left-hand top small drawer and took out the

postcard. She then showed me the postcard and the letter together. I formed the opinion that they were in the same handwriting. The letter was written on three tides and the back was blank. One part stood out very plainly by itself and said: "Dear Phyllis,—Will you meet me at the 'Eagle' to night, 8.30. Wednesday, Camden Town?" and was signed "Bert." There was some more writing, but this was the part she particularly showed me. I can say that the letter began in affectionate terms. The fragments of letter produced (mounted on glass) appear to me to be fragments of the letter. I saw deceased afterwards put the two letters into one envelope, and having set fire to it with a match, throw it into the fireplace. Both the letter and the postcard appeared to have been written with an indelible pencil. The postcard she put back again into the same place. Before leaving I paid her 12s. or 14s. I never saw her again alive. I noticed that the postcard was signed "Alice" and the letter was signed "Bert," but she didn't give any explanation of that. On each night she wore two chemises. On the following afternoon (Thursday) information reached me that the woman had been found murdered. Later in the evening a detective found me at the "Rising Sun" and I went with him to the police station at Somers Town and made a statement. I saw Bertram Shaw at the, police station. I gave all the information I had with regard to the postcard and the letter. On October 5 I was taken to the Highgate. Police Station, where prisoner was paraded amongst a number of other men. I at once identified him as the man who had been in the "Rising Sun" on the Monday night with Phyllis Dimmock.

Cross-examined. There were about 15 people paraded for identification, and I recognised prisoner at once. I know a woman named May Campbell. I first saw her on the day of the funeral, September 15. May Campbell gave me a description of a man whom she said she knew as a friend of Dimmock. That description tallied very much with the man I picked out on October 5. I do not know that May Campbell made a long statement to the police on September 20. She told me she wanted to make one, but her husband would not let her. I saw a description that was published in the "News of the World," but I cannot remember the date: "Aged 28 to 30; height about 5 ft. 7 in.; sallow complexion, dark hair, cleanshaven, peculiar appearance about the eyes." That is almost word for word the description given to me by May Campbell. She also added, "Pimples on the lower part of the face and neck." I was not in a great fright when I heard of this murder. I realised that I was next to the murderer. It was for that reason that I went to the "Rising Sun." I said, I am going to stay here all night until a detective or a policeman comes in." The habitués of the "Rising Sun" knew that I had slept with this woman on the Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday nights. They knew also that I was a ship's cook with my ship discharged. I had been frequenting the "Rising Sun" for practically a week, and naturally being an innocent man I wanted to

prove conclusively that I had had nothing to do with the murder. I realised the danger of having been in contact with the woman, and that the fact of having slept with her three nights, and her being murdered the next night placed me in a very unpleasant situation. I slept, next to the wall. (Witness examined the fragments of the letter with a magnifying glass.) I noticed that the paper has faint blue lines upon it, and that the writing is across the lines. As to the suggestion that the letter is written on a piece of paper torn out of a scribbling book or a pocket book, I can only say that I saw the letter, and I say that it was written on three sides. I have been asked to describe the letter, and I have described it to the best of my ability. The fourth side I say was blank. I deny that the story of this long letter is an invention. It was signed "Bert." Where it came from I cannot tell you. I know that the name of the man deceased was living with was Bert Shaw. If the object had been to put suspicion on Bertram Shaw, the signature "Bert" would have been a very useful piece of evidence. I do not accept the suggestion that May Campbell and myself made up a composite description. Her description tallied with the man I bad seen in the "Rising Sun" on Sunday night. The police have been providing me with money during this case, and I have not gone back to any other ship. I have been kept in England for the purpose of this trial. I did not see the deceased at all on the Wednesday night. My alibi has been absolutely accepted by the police. I didn't say before the magistrate that this letter was couched in affectionate terms because I was not asked. The letter commenced "Darling Phyllis,' and the part making the assignation began "Dear Phyllis."

Re-examined. Phyllis Dimmock was not at the "Rising Sun" on the night of the murder. I was asked to give a description of the man I had seen at the "Rising Sun" on the evening of the 9th, before I saw May Campbell. The description I gave was very similar to that given in the "News of the World." I did not identify the prisoner from any description given by May Campbell. I saw him in the "Rising Sun" on the Monday night for two hours, and all the time he was looking very hard at me and I was looking very hard at him. I had no doubt that he was the man who had been at the "Rising Sun." I am certain that the letter contained an assignation for Wednesday night. It was half-past 12 when I left the "Rising Sun" that night. I was accompanied by a friend named Clarke, and we walked home together. We were lodging under the same roof, and were admitted by the landlady at about quarter to one, and I did not leave the premises again that night.

(Friday, December 13.)

ALICE LANCASTER , 29, St. Paul's Road. On Wednesday, September 11, at 7.45 a.m., I received from the postman two letters addressed to Mrs. B. Shaw. I knocked at her bedroom door and said, "Two letters," pushed them under the door, and Mrs. Shaw called

out, "All right." The next morning I left the house at eight o'clock. So far as I knew nothing was wrong.

Cross-examined. I am a lady clerk, and have lived at 29, St. Pawl's Road, since February 12 last. I occupy the second floor front room. Mrs. Stocks occupies the first floor front room and the front basement, which she uses as a kitchen. I generally take the letters if I am up, and have frequently put letters under Mrs. Shaw's door. I did not know that Roberts was with her. I knew Shaw was away. I heard no conversation; they would be asleep, as I had to knock twice. I was first asked to give evidence Last night. I had never discussed the receipt of these two letters with anyone. At the Coroner's Court I heard Roberts speak of the two letters. I mentioned it to Mrs. Stocks soon after the murder.

FRANK FREDERICK HOLLAMBY , clerk in the Accountant General's office of the General Post Office. The "Rising Sun" postcard is marked "London, W.C., four a.m., September 9, 1907," at the head office, W.C. district, Southampton Row. If posted at the head office of the district it would be put in the box between two and four a.m., if at any other letter box between one and three a.m., on Monday, September 9.

Cross-examined. If postcards are not properly addressed they are not returned through the dead letter office. This postcard must have been posted after one a.m.

FRANK CLARKE , commercial clerk. (Address written down and handed in.) I am in the habit of using the "Rising Sun" public-house. I knew Emilv Dimmock by sight. The witness Roberts has lived in the house I live at since September, 1907. On Sunday, September 8, at 10 p.m., I was with Roberts in the "Rising Sun," and Dimmock was there talking with Roberts up to 11 p.m., when I left. On Monday, September 9. I was again at the "Rising Sun" at 10 p.m., and saw Roberts and Dimmock together. The prisoner was also there at about 11 p.m.; he spoke to Dimmock for a minute. She walked over to speak to him and went back to Roberts. Prisoner remained three or four minutes. I left Roberts and Dimmock there at 12.20. On Tuesday, September 10, I was again in the "Rising Sun" at 10 p.m., and did not see Roberts or Dimmock there. On September 11 I was there at 10 p.m. I did not see Dimmock or Wood; Roberts was there, and I remained in his company till closing time. We then walked home together, talked for about 10 minutes, and went to bed at one a.m. I slept on the second floor and Roberts on the third floor above me. At 10 a.m. the next morning I saw Roberts at breakfast in the common coffee-room.

Cross-examined. I have seen prisoner in the "Rising Sun" two or three times before September 8. It is about 300 yards from where I live. On October 15 I picked prisoner out as a man I had seen there. I have known Roberts since the Sunday previous to the murder. I have seen him since September 1 or 2, when he came to lodge where I live. He did not say he was very anxious to prove

where he was on September 11. I have heard that he slept with Dimmock on September 8, 9, and 10—I knew it on the morning of September 11—he told me in conversation that he had slept with her.

Re-examined. What Roberta said to me was, "I have bean with Dimmock"—he did not mention the particular day or night. I am quite certain he made that statement on the Wednesday morning after breakfast.

AMELIA LE SAGE , wife of M. La Sage. I keep a temperance hotel at the address written down. Clarke has lodged with me for about six months. Roberts came on September 1. On Wednesday, September 12 or 11, I let Clarke and Roberts in at about 12.15. Neither of them had keys. On Thursday, at 11 or 12 p.m., the police visited me.

Detective-sergeant GEORGE OSBORN , Y Division. On Friday, September 13, at nine a.m., I searched the bedroom in which the body of Dimmock was found. In the grate of the fireplace I found letter and envelope pertly burnt (produced between glasses). I handed them to Neil. I was present when the pieces were shown to Roberts.

Cross-examined. There was much more burnt paper in the grate—I took all the portions on Which there was legible writing. There was no coal ash in the grate, only charred paper and a charred pattern book. I saw the drawers lying on the floor in the front room with wearing apparel and different things in them.

Detective FRANK PAGE , Y Division. On Thursday, September 12, at three p.m., I went to 29, St. Paul's Road, with Neil. On a chair in the front room was the postcard album (produced). It was lying open, with several postcards loose on the book and several on the floor immediately in front of the chair. I called Neil's attention to it. On October 5, on instructions of Neil, I went with Charles Carlile Wood to the Paste Restante, St. Martin's le Grand. Wood asked for a letter which I took possession of (produced). The letter is dated "One a.m., September 30, 1907."

Cross-examined. The album was on the chair, not on the sewing machine. If Shaw says it was on the table it must have been moved. I searched prisoner's premises on October 4 with Neil. The album had apparently been filled with cards; we have taken a lot out to go through them; I believe none are in the writing of prisoner.

Re-examined. The sewing machine stood immediately in front of the window, the table in the corner a few feet from the window.

Detective-sergeant HERBERT MILTON , Y Division. On Friday, September 13, I went to 29, St. Paul's Road, with Roberts and searched a chest of drawers. The top long drawer was on the floor in the front room, the others in the cheat. I did not find the "Rising Sun" postcard. In the top long drawer were a number of books and wearing apparel, the bottom covered with newspaper. After taking the articles out of the drawer I lifted the paper up

and looked underneath for the card. The paper was folded under, and I did not unfold it. I put the things back in the drawer and left it on the floor.

Cross-examined. I am an experienced police officer—I was given to understand that the postcard was in the top long drawer. I took everything out of the drawer, lifted up the paper, and put it bark. I did not shake the paper, but missed the postcard. I was searching for a postcard.

ROBERT HENRY MCGOWAN , carman. I was living at 2, Hawley Street. Chalk Farm Road, from the early part of September, 1907, was out of employment, and seeking work. I knew Coleman, who was doing odd work, as I was also. I usually went to the V.V. Bread Company, in Brewery Road, at five a.m. On Thursday, September 12, I left home at 4.40 a.m., went through St. Paul's Road, which is about eight minutes' walk from my home, and on to Brewery Road. When I got to 29, St. Paul's Road, I heard steps as I passed the gate, as if someone had been standing there, and started off of a sudden. I turned round, and saw a man leave the gate of No. 29 and go down the road towards King's Road, in the opposite direction to me. He wore an overcoat with the collar turned up and a hard bowler hat. I noticed a peculiar jerk in his walk, a sort of quick motion, the left hand was down by the side, the right shoulder coming round—a sort of quick Jerk with the right shoulder. Coleman had been accustomed to go with me in search of work. If a light was in his window I knew he had not left, and would wait for him to join me. I could see his window between the houses in St. Paul's Road. That morning I saw his light, and waited for him. The man came out of No. 29 just behind me as I had just passed the gate. I thought Coleman was playing a trick on me, and had come out of the gate suddenly. I looked round several times for Coleman, and the man was still in sight. I saw him for quite 30 yards in good view. Coleman did not join me; when I got to the V.V. Bread Company he was there. I was taken on at 5.5 a.m. to do two hours' work. I learned of the murder on Friday morning at 8.30 from the paper, and on Saturday, at 10 a.m., gave information to Sergeant Ball. I went to him at Some Town Police Station, after speaking to a constable. Ball took my statement down in writing, read it to me, and I signed it. In the evening, at seven p.m., I saw Inspector Neil, and on Monday I picked out the prisoner from a number of men who were ordered to walk round. I instantly selected prisoner by the jerk of the shoulders—the same movement that I had seen in the man in St. Paul's Road. Neil asked me if I recognised anyone. I said "Yes" and walked up and touched prisoner.

Cross-examined. I was looking for a job on the morning of September 12. I did not get taken on at the V.V. Company. I got the job the morning before. I did not know it was No. 29 that the man came from at the time. Coleman lived at 2, Rotham Road. There is

an open space in St. Paul's Road, where I could see Coleman's window as I stood by the Vicarage gate. If the light was there Coleman was supposed to be there; if out he had gone. I saw the light and thought Coleman had not gone. Sometimes his wife had the light, and that would deceive me. I thought it was Colemen jumping out upon me from No. 29. I said before the coroner and before the magistrate that I left home at 20 to five and that it was five minutes to five when I was passing 29, St. Paul's Road, as near at I could tell—that it would take me a quarter of an hour to go from my home to 29. St. Paul's Road, and that I heard the clock strike five shortly after in the Brewery Road. I do not want to alter that excepting that I think it would take me about eight minutes' walk from my house to 29, St. Pauls Road, and about 12 minutes on to the V.V. Company in Brewery Road. I think it would be 12 minutes before I heard the clock strike. I was cross-examined on my statement, and I have walked over the ground since. Whatever time it was, I know the standard electric lights were alight. I was up at the V.V. Company when I heard the clock strike. It was a drizzly, thick, foggy morning. I should call it drizzly if it were muggy, thick, and foggy, although it had not rained. I am Suffolk. I have not swallowed the dictionary. In Suffolk "drizzly" means a morning without rain. I did not tell Ball I saw the man come down the steps—that was put down by mistake and I corrected it before the coroner. If I had said he was coming down the steps I should have seen the man's face, but his back was turned to me. I told Ball I heard steps, turned round, and the man was outside the gate. I did not describe the man at wearing a dark, loose sac overcoat. If it it taken down at the inquest, "The man had an overcoat, the collar turned up—it was a sac coat, loose," that is wrong. One of the jury turned round and said, "Is it a coat like this?" The words were put to me. I do not know the difference between a sac coat and another coat. I said it was a-dark overcoat. (Prisoner's coat produced.) That would look dark in the morning—it is a dark brown. Deposition produced was read over to and signed by me. At the inquest I asked to have Ball's statement altered for the first time—not when Ball read it over to me; I did not notice it then. I did not say the man was a broad-shouldered man. I said he was a trifle broader across the shoulders than me. I only identify prisoner by the peculiar twitch of the shoulders. When he came out I only paid attention to his peculiar walk. I was dawdling—waiting for my mate, Coleman. The man's peculiar walk attracted my attention. I did not then know the number of the house. When I left off work on the Friday morning I got a paper and read about the murder; then, on the Saturday morning, I was going past the house and saw the number of the house out of which I had seen the man come. I knew which house it was because it was in the paper—No. 29. I went on to work, and, as I came back, spoke to a policeman, who sent me on to Ball. I did not tell the policeman shout the peculiar walk. I simply asked him where I should find the detective in charge of the case. I described him to Bell as a man

with a swaggering gait and with a peculiar twitch of the right shoulder, stiff-built, with broad shoulders—a trifle broader across the shoulders than me. (Prisoner was directed to put the coat on.) I describe prisoner as broader-shouldered than me. In the deposition I said. "The man was about 5 ft. 7 or 8 in height." The "8" was crossed off at the coroners—I denied that. I saw the man by the electric light; I did not want any light from the railway below. There were two electric light standards, one on the same side as No. 29 and one opposite. I identified prisoner when he had no overcoat on. I did not seen any description of Wood in the papers before identifying prisoner on October 7. I take the "People" newspaper. I had not been told the suspected man wore a blue serge suit. I had no conver-station with May Campbell. After I had touched prisoner May Campbell was brought in and identified him. Miss Raven and the barman from the "Eagle" were in the yard before me. They saw me identify him. I did not see a description of the suspected man in the "People" before I identified. When I said, "I have seen several descriptions. I saw the 'People'—the description there was misleading," that was afterwards. They gave my evidence a week before I gave it in the Court. I never read the account in the paper from September 14 to October 7, when I identified.

Re-examined. I have no interest in this case and never saw or spoke to any of the persons concerned. I have attended to give evidence and have received no money except 3s. at the inquest for the three days I attended there. I have been 16 years in the army. 12 years as a non-commissioned officer, discharged with the best character, then 12 years as a commission agent for the Aerated Bread Company, and I am now in employment. At the inquest I said the man wore a long overcoat reaching to the back of the knees. One of the jury got up and said, "Was it like this?" I said, "Yes," and Mr. Newton said, "A sac overcoat," and the words were put down to me. I am certain the electric light was on. It was just getting daylight, but it was a thick, heavy morning. There were two lights, one 30 yards from the house, the other 23 or 24 yards away on the other side. I do not think the light from the Midland Railway would show on the road—the line is too far down under the arch. With regard to the electric light, sometimes they would go out when I was in King's Road, at another time when I was in St. Paul's Road, and at another when I was crossing the Camden Road. They were never all out at the same time. May Campbell came bouncing about while I was in the yard to identify the prisoner, and then flew out again. She was there when I picked the prisoner out. Miss Raven and the barman from the "Eagle" were in the yard, 10 or 14 yards away from me. (To Mr. Marshall Hall.) The corner of the Brewery Road is about 800 yards from 29, St. Paul's Road. I heard the man when he was outside the gate. He shut the gate after him. I heard the gate click. A policeman was on the opposite side of the road ahead of me. I saw him as he stopped at the butcher's shop at the corner,

where the electric light is. (To the Judge.) I do not know what time the electric lights went out—I did not notice them go out.

RICHARD LANE COLEMAN , No. 2, Wrotham Road, Camden Town. I am a van man, but not in regular employment; I do some day work for the V.V. Bread Company in the Brewery Road; I have been working in that way for some time past. In the month of September last I was in the habit of leaving my home at 10 minutes to five in the morning to go either to work or to look for it. I have known McGowan three years, but intimately to work with him about six months. He used to go to the V.V. Bread Company in search of employment in September last. I used to go with him almost every morning. By the light from my window he would find out whether I was at home or whether I had left home. If there was a light in my window it would indicate that I was there.

Mr. Mirshall Hall said he did not with to object to the evidence for fear that the jury might think he wanted to keep anything out. He submitted the evidence was not relevant to the issue.

Mr. Justice Grantham said he should have thought the arrangement was evidence in the case.

The Witness. I went with McGowan from time to time to the V.V. Bread Company. There might have been two or three times upon which I did not meet him, and afterwards found him at the Bread Company's premises, or he found me. I do not know any certain dates. There was an occasion upon which we did not meat and go together. On that occasion he caught me up in the V.V. Company's yard in the Brewery Road. Shortly after that occasion I heard of this crime. I heard of the fact of the crime the next morning. Upon the morning after that—Saturday—we had a little conversation.

Inspector ARTHUR NEIL , Y Division. I first got some information in connection with the case about five minutes to three on the afternoon of Thursday, September 12, in consequence of which I want with Detective Page to 29, St. Paul's Road, where I found Police-constable Killion in charge. There were some other officers there. I noticed a chest of drawers in the sitting-room closes to the folding doors on the right as you are going to the back room, which is used as a bedroom and a living room. (The witness marked on the plan the position of the chest of drawers, which was next to the fireplace.) I noticed that ail the drawers were pulled out and the left-hand top drawer was right out, standing on the floor. The contents of he drawer which was on the floor had, I should think, been taken out and thrown back again. There were little articles of clothing or woollen material, and some papers in there of which I took possession. The things in the drawers which were partly pulled out had also been turned over. In the right-hand small drawer I found three small rings in the corner—I think of 9-carat gold. I could see them at once without moving any of the articles. I did not find a wedding ring in any part of the rooms. Detective Page called my attention to a chair and a postcard album lying on the chair. The album had appatently

been turned over and some postcards were lying on the leaves, loose, and some on the floor. The chair was very close to the window. There is a sewing machine standing right opposite the opening of the shutters and the chair was betide that. The chair was in such a position that the light from that opening would fall upon it. The shutters were closed in the back room. On the table there was a lamb-bone or a mutton bone, a glass which had apparently contained stout, a bottle about half full of stout, and two plates, which were packed with knives and forks as if they had been put there in a hurry. I afterwards had my attention drawn to some mint-sauce in a cup in the cupboard. I have been present while Dr. Thompson was describing the condition of that room, which was correctly described. There was also in the back room a pail about half full of soapy water, with a scrubbing brush and flannel in it, as though the deceased woman had been using it for scrubbing. I found one razor on the chest of drawers and another on the sewing machine, both in cases. (The razors were identified by the witness.) They are very old razors and very rusty. I did not take out the paper which was lying at the bottom of the drawers; I was searching more for an instrument that might have caused the wound. On that day I got possession of photographs of the deceased woman. (Exhibits 4 and 5.) On September 13 a photograph of the deceased woman in the sailor hat appeared, I believe, in the newspapers. I first saw the witness Roberts late on the night of the 12th and then again on the next morning. In consequence of what I heard from him I first of all went in search of a man whom he described, and the following morning I directed Sergeant Osborn to go and search the grate in the back room of 29, St. Paul's Road, and that same morning I directed Sergeant Wilson to go with the witness Roberts and first of all search through the various postards in the album and from there to go to the house and make a further search for the "Rising Sun" postcard, which he had described. At that time we had had the album taken to the Kentish Town Police Station. On September 13 I got from Osborne the burnt paper, which is between two pieces of glass. I got this picture of the "Rising Sun" postcard from Bertram Shaw on September 25, a facsimile of which appeared in the newspapers on September 28 and 29. I saw McGowtan on the morning of the 13th; Sergeant Ball took his statement. The inquest was opened on September 16 and adjourned until September 30, and then further adjourned until October 14. At those adjournments only very short and formal evidence was taken. The prisoner was apprehended on October 14. I first saw Ruby Young on that day about five o'clock in the afternoon at the Piccadilly Tube Station in consequence of a communication made to me. I went with her to Gray's Inn Road and saw the prisoner at 6.15 cross the road and speak to her. I followed behind and spoke to him. I said, "Mr. Wood." He said "Yes." I said, "I am a police inspector, I wish to speak to you." He said, "Certainly." I then said to him, "I do not wish this young lady to hear what I have to say." That was said to the

prisoner in Ruby Young's presence, and the then stood on one side. I then said to him, "I have been making inquiries respecting the murder of Emily Elisabeth Dimmock at 29, St. Raul's Road, Camden Town, on the night of September 11 last. Some post-cards have been found which were sent to her by a man with whom she was acquainted, and from my inquiries I have reason to believe they were written by you." He said, "Quite right, but I only wrote the one with the sketch of the 'Rising Sun' on it." I said, "Well, we cannot discuss the matter here, you had better come with me, I shall detain you pending inquiries as to your movements on the night of the murder; I have reason to believe you know something about it." He said, "Very well, sir; you will allow me to wish my young lady 'Good night' before I go." He then turned to the young lady and she came towards him. At that time I had hailed a cab, and we were about to get into it, and he said to her, "Good-bye, dear, don't worry, I have to go with this gentleman; if England wants me she must have me; don't cry, but be true." She replied, "Leave that to me." The prisoner and myself got into the cab, and he then said, "I want to give you an explanation." I directed the cabman to drive to Highgate Police Station. Before that date three postcards besides the "Rising Sun" postcard had appeared in the papers. I cautioned him. He said, "There is no secret about the card—my young brother, or rather my step brother, called my attention to the handwriting on the postcards when they came out in the Sunday papers. I only told him it was like my handwriting, but I knew at the same time I wrote the card, and the same night I had a chat with my elder brother Charles, who lives at 43, Museum Street, and his wife Bessie; he is a conscientious chap, and both he and his wife advised me to go to Scotland Yard; I was vary busy in the office because my principal was away and I had to do his work, so my brother suggested that the next best thing to do was to write a letter addressed to the Posts Restante, St. Martin's-le-Grand, and stating I acknowledged writing the postcard and giving my reasons for not coming forward; he wrote the letter, and Bessie and he and I signed it, and he addressed it to himself at the Poste Restente. His name is Charles Carlile Wood, and you will find the letter there. I want you to get it to show that I did not conceal the matter." He repeated that several times, and then went on: "I only met she girl by accident on Friday night before she was murdered, and I considered it very hard to be drawn into the matter, as I know practically nothing about it; I did not care to be dragged into a matter of this sort; I did not think my evidence would make much difference to the case; if one has a good name you do not care to get mixed up in matters of this sort." I then said to him (still being in the cab), "It is alleged that the person who wrote that postcard had an appointment with the deceased at the 'Eagle' Public House, Camden Town, between eight and nine on the night of the murder; she received a letter, said to be in the same handwriting as the postcard on the Wednesday, making that appointment." The prisoner said, "Well, I

never wrote anything to her but the postcard, which was sent quite by accident; I met her in the 'Rising Sun,' in Euston Road, quite by chance on the Friday night before she was murdered, when she wanted me to buy her a postcard from a boy; I told her I had some better ones in my pocket and showed them to her; she seemed pleased with them, and I promised to send her one. I wrote it whilst I was with her, but did not send it that night." He kept repeating that he had made, no secret about this postcard until we arrived at the Highgate Police Station. He also said some people at his works knew of it. When we arrived at the Highgate Police Station I cautioned him again. I said to him, "If you desire to make a statement explaining your movements on the Wednesday night, September 11, I will make full inquiries about it." He said, "I want to tell you the truth about the whole matter." I then had a statement taken down at his dictation. Sergeant Mitchell wrote it, and it was read over first by the prisoner himself, who made certain alterations and punctuated it, and it was afterwards read over to him again by Sergeant Ball. After it was read over by Sergeant Ball to the prisoner the prisoner signed it as it now appears. (To the Judge.) This statement was taken down shortly after he had made the previous statement to me. (The statement signed by the prisoner was then read by Mr. Bodkin, the clerical errors in it being noted.) In that statement the letter from the prisoners brother addressed to the Poste Restante is referred to. I got back from Detective Page that envelope and the letter. (Exhibit 9 was then read by Mr. Bodkin.) The envelope bears the post-mark, "1 a.m., September 30." He told me that his brother wrote this letter. The (prisoner referred to his father and said where he lived—12, Frederick Street—and he also said if I was going to his house he wished me to be careful, because his father was in ill-health and it might upset him. What I have detailed happened on the night of October 4, and by the time the statement had quite finished it must have been past one o'clock. I came back after it was finished and when it was read over. I left Sergeant Ball and Sergeant Mitchell at the police station before the statement was finished and went to 12, Frederick Street and saw his father the same night, who pointed out the front ground floor room as the room which the prisoner occupied, which was divided by the folding doors from the back bedroom, which the prisoner's father and the step-brother occupied. Against the folding doors, both on the back-room side and the front-room aide, furniture was placed, and without moving which it would not have been possible to open the folding-doors so as to get through from one room to the other—you would have to go out into the passage and in at the other door. In the front room I found some clothes hanging on pegs behind the door—an overcoat, a pair of trousers, and, I believe, a vita and a jacket. I put them on the bed and searched through the pockets. I left the overcoat on the bed and did take any of the clothes away with me. To the best of my recollection the other things were underneath the overcoat on the peg. Going in from the street into No. 12, Frederick

Street the door of the front room wee just inside on the right-hand tide, about a yard or two yards. Leaving that door on your right you follow along the passage and on the right there it the door leading to the back room. The distance between the two doors is, I should think, about a yard or a yard and a half. It is very similar to 29, St. Pauls Road. On October 5 I was at the Highgate Police Station and prisoner was placed with 15 other men at 5.30 p.m., and certain persons—Roberts, Clarke, and Crabtree—saw them. Roberts, I believe, went in first alone and remained there. He recognised, amongst the 15, the prisoner. Then Clarke followed and recognised him also, and he remained. Then Crabtree went in and looked at the men and said, "There is a man here who knew Phyllis Dimmock"—this was said in the presence of the prisoner—"bat the man that I have referred to in my statement is not here." I asked him to pick out the man he was referring to as having known the deceased. And he said, "No, I came here to identify another man and I shan't pick this man out." I again requested him to point out the man, and reminded him that he bad been called there to tee anyone whom he could recognise; whether it was the man he had referred to or any other man it did not matter, if he was someone he knew at a friend of the deceased. Eventually he told me the number where prisoner was standing and picked him out. I cannot be tare that prisoner made any observation about what Crabtree was saying; I took Crabtree out into the other room for a few minutes. I think afterwards that the prisoner said, "I am the man," or something to that effect—I am not quite sure about that. These three men I have mentioned were the only three who were brought to Highgate on that occasion on the evening of October 5. On the same evening after this identification I said to prisoner, "I have made inquiries and find that your statement as to being with the young lady you have mentioned, on the Wednesday, the night of the murder, is untrue." I produced a photograph of a tracing of the burnt fragments (Exhibit 7), and I said, "This is a photograph of a portion of the letter making an appointment for a man to meet the deceased woman on the night of her death; I believe it to be in your handwriting, and as you have been identified a a an acquaintance of the deceased for some months prior to her death, and your father and brother are unable to say whether you were at home that night or not, I shall charge you with wilfully murdering her." Exhibit 7 is really a reproduction of Exhibit 3. The prisoner took that tracing in his hand to look at it. He said, "The handwriting is certainly very like mine—in fact, I should call it a very good imitation; if the young lady denies I was in her company I cannot help it; one cannot be correct aa to small details, but I have told you the truth and I cannot do more." He was later taken to the Kentish Town Police Station, and about 8.30 he was charged. He made no reply then the charge was read over, but a moment or so afterwards he muttered something which I understood was: "Do you wish any further explanation?" I had, in fact, charged him, to I said

nothing further. On October 7, at the Kentish Town Police Station, at about half-past nine in the morning, the prisoner was placed with nine or 10 other men. From the night of the 4th until October 7 the prisoner was dressed in a blue serge suit, a square-cut jacket, a bowler hat, collar and tie. On the morning of the 7th we were very careful to get men as near the prisoner's own stamp as we could, and we had some difficulty. We took them from the street—persons going going to business. They were all dressed in dark clothes and most of them wore jackets; one or two of them had morning coats. I would not be sure whether any had blue serge clothes on—three may have been. First of all several constables were called in to see if they could identify him as the man they had seen in the neighbourhood that night; and after that May Campbell, the barman from the "Eagle," and Miss Raven, the barmaid, were called in the yard to see the men; I think May Campbell was the last of those three. There were no other private persons with the exception of McCowan. As you go into the police station there is an archway, and a little beyond the archway those men stood in a line in the open air for the first three persons to see. It was a rather dull morning, and we thought it advisable to have the men out in the light. Miss Raven was the first to go in and she did not pick out anyone from the row; the barman went in next, and he was not able to pick out anybody; he remained there; May Campbell went in and she was not able to pick out anybody, and she remained. Those three persons then stood all together up against the way facing the men. The fourth person who came in was McGowan. I was there the whole time until McGowan identified one of the men. There had not been any communication of any kind between McGowan and the other three up to that time. McGowan first of all looked along the line of men and said he could nor identify anyone by the features. I then asked the men to walk round the yard. They did so, and McGowan watched them walk round, and as they came back McGowsn spoke to me and went up and touched the prisoner. The prisoner had been put up also for identification on Sunday, October 6. He was in the charge-room at the police station on three occasions, I think—there was Gladys Lineham or Gladys Warren; Lineham; Neil Lawrence; the woman Smith; Crabtree; and Smeeth, the barman from the "Rising Sun." They all saw the row of men in which the prisoner was. All those, with the exception of Crsibtree, picked him out, and also a man named Miller. The same system of identification was adopted. That is always the practice. The charge-room is a large room. There were never less then 10 or 12 other men with the prisoner, I should think, on the Sunday. I sent an officer for the prisoner's overcoat on October 5 Police-constable Grossy and Sergeant Goodchild was with him. It was the same coat that I had seen on the night of October 4. I had just come into Court as the prisoner was putting on a cost. That was the one that Grossy brought back to me.

Cross-examined. There were three postcards excluding the "Rising sun" postcard—two in one handwriting and the third in another. I do not think either of those three were written by Wood. They were circulated because it was thought that either of these might have some bearing on the case. As far as I can judge they are all in the handwriting of an educated man. The postcards were photographed and sent to Scotland Yard. I cannot tell which paper it was that the "Sailor Costume" photograph appeared in. The "Sailor Costume" photograph is very unlike the other big photograph of her standing. I only just saw McGowan as he was leaving the station—not to have any conversation to him. He made his statement to Sergeant Ball, who has been in the police force nearly 19 years, I think. I do not think he is the sort of man likely to put down in a statement, "I saw a man come down the steps," if it hadn't been said by the person he was taking the statement from. We went after anyone that we could find that could throw any light on the matter—Roberts amongst others. He gave a description of the man that he said he had seen in her company on the Monday night—that is the prisoner. Roberts's statement was given on the night of the 12th, at nearly 12 o'clock at night. On September 20 we got some evidence from May Campbell. She had made several statements. I have the statement that Roberts gave with the description of the man he saw in the public-house. (Mr. Marshall Hall read the statement, and also the various descriptions of the supposed murderer which appeared in the Press.) We have descriptions of various persons who were Known to be acquaintances of the deceased woman and those persons, nearly all have been found and have satisfied us as to their movements. I am satisfied that the man May Campbell intended to identity was not the prisoner. I do not think she could identify anybody if she spoke the truth. When I showed the prisoner the fragments of the burnt letter, what I handed to him was not the original fragments, but a photograph of a tracing from the original, which was photographed at Scotland Yard. The result of the microscopic examination of the razors disclosed no trace of blood upon them. The same process has been applied to Wood's razors with the same result. I do not think anything was found at 29, St. Paul's Road belonging to the prisoner. There is the postcard and the fragment of paper that was found in the grate. Nothing was found that belonged to him, nor anything to show that he had ever set foot inside that house. Up to this day none of the missing articles has ever been traced to Wood's possession. I believe there are other people living in the same house as Wood's family, but have never been there since. I found the overcoat behind the door. At that time I did not expect the coat would have any bearing on the matter. I did not put it in my original reports, which were before the prisoner was arrested. I did not send for it with a message that Wood was feeling cold in prison, and would they let him have the overcoat, nor do I know what the officer told them; I told him to fetch the coat away. I am not aware that there was any complaint that Wood was cold in prison

and wanted to get the overcoat. I think I had only made one general report to the Treasury at that time, but there may have been subsequent reports. I recollect the incident about the coat very well. I had taken it down and felt in the pockets and laid it on the bed and was turning out the drawers at that moment, when Sergeant Ball picked the overcoat up and asked me if I had searched all the pockets. I said, "Yes, I took it from the door." It was the same coat. The brother's coat was in the other room, hanging up in exactly the same way. I have heard that the prisoner has lived nearly 20 years in the district. I made the statement before the Magistrate, "McGowan told me he recognised him by his walk, but he did not tell me at that time that he had a peculiarity in his walk." He had spoken about the walk before and I had noticed the walk. I did not put in my report to Scotland Yard that I had noticed some peculiarity in his walk. I think I said at the inquest about the peculiarity in his walk The people that were put up with Wood for the purpose of identification were all of the same standing—persona of his character as near as possible—some a little shorter, and some taller, and some about his own height. I was introduced to Ruby Young by a member of the "Weekly Dispatch." I am not quite sure whether she told me the prisoner had asked her to say that he was with her on the night of the Wednesday. I had only had a very few words of conversation with her. Prisoner gave me to understand that he would be able to account for his movements. A statement was taken from Ruby Young on the 5th, and I think Sergeant Ball took a statement from her on the 11th. I had arranged with her that she should meet the prisoner, and that I should speak to him and get his explanation with regard to the writing of the "Rising Sun" postcard. It was not the arrangement that she should kiss him; she did not. When Ruby Young went and had tea with me she gave some information. I think she told me then that the prisoner had asked her to say that she was with him on the night of the 11th. When he made the reference to Ruby Young in this long statement I said to him, "Do you think the young lady will bear you out, because I do not?" Ruby Young gave evidence before the coroner on two occasions. From the time when she first made the statement to me on October 4 or 5, for a period of eight weeks, down to December 6, I never had any conversation with her. Until her statement on December 6 that she had noticed a peculiarity in the prisoner's walk she had not ever said so to me, nor as far as I know to any other police officer, because I had been given instructions that no questions were to be asked of her.

Re-examined. I was called before the coroner upon the five occasions that he sat. On October 21 I said in answer to you, "I noticed a peculiarity of gait in the prisoner." Upon the occasion that McGowan picked the prisoner out I noticed a peculiarity of gait—he carried the left hand in his jacket pocket, and as he kept walking he kept bringing his right shoulder round in this way (describing). I think the other officers noticed it at the same time also. Inspector

Carpenter was present on that occasion. He was responsible for the identification and made entries in the book.

To Mr. Marshall Hall. Before the question was asked on the very last day by Sir Charles Mathews I had spoken about this peculiarity, and I think I had made a statement to that effect to Mr. Williamson, of the Treasury.

Inspector WILLIAM CARPENTER . I conducted the identification at the police station on October 7, when I saw the prisoner walk. I noticed a peculiarity in his walk—he held his right shoulder a little forward, with his left hand in his coat pocket, with the coat pressed rather forward with the left hand and as he walked he swung his right arm and brought his shoulder pound a little.

Cross-examined. I noticed this on October 7, but did not tell anyone of it. I have read the newspapers. I did not know that the defence was most strenuously denying that the prisoner had any peculiarity of gait, but knew the question had been raised. I did not make any report in writing of this alleged peculiarity until December 10. The prisoner was dressed in a blue round jacket with pockets in the side. I have seen men put their hands in their pocket and drag the coat forward so as to display their figure behind. It is a quite common attitude.

(Saturday, December 14.)

JOHN PAUL MAIR , manager, Port Patrick Hotel, Port Patrick, Wigtownshire. I had a man named Alexander Msckie continuously in my employment as kitchen porter from June 16 until Sunday, September 15, except one night. He would be away every evening for an hour or two. (Mackie stood forward and was identified by the witness as being the msn in his employment.) During that time he slept at my hotel every night.

Cross-examined. I can prove that he left my employ on September 15 by his personal writing when I paid him his wages. (Document produced.) The signature only is his. It was written in my presence and two witnesses on Sunday evening, September 15. The explanation of the date at the top, "September 15, 1907," and the date at the bottom, "August 15, 1907," is this: I kept back half his wages because of my dismissing him without notice on the Sun say evening on account of my finding him thieving. He left my house at once, and I paid him £2, for which he gave me a receipt, and I kept back the other until I had gone through the hotel silver in case I found anything missing. I am a German. I did not know until last Wednesday night, about six o'clock, that it was thought important that Mackie should be able to prove where he was on the night of September 11-12. He was in my employ that night. I did not see him until nine o'clock the next night. To the best of my belief I actually saw him on the night of September 11. I saw him every day that week. This document reads, "J.P. Mair, manager, telegraphic address Hugh Portpatrick," and written at the

top is 15/9/07. "I, Mackie, agree that £2 of my wage a, which amounts to £4 18s. 3d., shall be kept back until Mr. Mairsees there is no other table silver massing.—Alec. Mackie." Then there is the date 15/8/07. He must have been mistaken about the month. Perhaps he never looked at. Only the signature is his; the rest of it is in the handwriting of one of my servants, who is a foreigner. When that document was written I had to make inquiry to see if anything was wrong. I wanted to keep the whole thing quiet on account of visitors, because it makes a bad impression if you have a servant who is stealing. When he came into my employ I thought he was a very decent fellow. He did his duties extremely well; but just about three weeks before I dismissed him he seemed to me as if he could not look in my eyes as straight as he used to. I got suspicious and I watched him (on account of hearing rumours that several things were missing) until I actually had a proof. I went with a policeman and searched his box, and found table silver in it and several other small things, and then I dismissed him on the Sunday night—the same night. I did not know that he returned to London last Monday. On the back of that document is written in my bookkeeper's writing, "Received balance of wages.—A. Mackie." The other document is a document of October 1, 1907, signed Alexander Mackie. After I went through the stock of silver I did not find any more missing. I sent the money to Glasgow. This document was sent and received back by me. The whole document was written on September 15, and I can get the hotel books where the entries are. I am quite sure he was in my employ and in Wigtownshire on the night of September 11-12. He was only one night away, and that was when out for a sail at night and was rescued by the lifeboat.

Re-examined. This date of "15th Sept." in my bookkeeper's writing is the date upon which the man left. The figures at the bottom are Mackie's figures. He may have put down the date wrong because he was excited—he was afraid I would give him in charge of the police.

ALFRED BALL . I am a detective sergeant attached to the Y Division. I was present when the prisoner was arrested on October 4. I was not in court yesterday when Inspector Neil gave evidence. I was at the Highgate Police Station when the prisoner dictated a statement which he signed, and I was present when the inspector charged the prisoner with this offence, and after that I searched him and found three pencils, which I produce—two ordinary blacklead pencils, and one described as a linen marking ink pencil. (Mr. Marshall Hall said that it would not be contested that the pencil produced would make the writing that was on what was called the "Rising Sun" postcard and on the fragments of burnt paper.) The writing on each of those is writing which would have been written with such a pencil as I have just described.

Cross-examined. The three pencils are of the kind which a draughtsman would very naturally have in his possession. I took

the statement from McGowan. I have got the original note of it. It is dated 14/9/07. At that time I ascertained in a general sense whether it was strictly accurate that he was out of employment. He was going there in search of employment. I took his statement down petty accurately. I should know the importance of taking a statement of this kind fairly accurately. It says, "On Thursday morning last, the 12th inst., I left my house at"—not about—"20 to five and passed through St. Paul's Road on my way to Brewery Road, where I was going to the V. V. Bread Company to seek work; as I was going past 29, St. Paula Road I heard footsteps and looked round and saw a man coming down the steps of No. 29." I have not any doubt that that is what he said, "coming down the steps of No. 29." He closed the gate after him and walked down the road at a brisk pace. I took no notice of it at the time. He did not say anything to me there about watching this man for 30 yards and standing still. Later in the statement you will see exactly what he said. (Mr. Marshall Hall then read from McGowans statement.) I should think are 10 or 11 steps if you take in the bottom step above the kerb. I cannot say what the distance is from the corner of Brewery Road to 29, St. Paul's Road. It would not he true to suggest that it may have been read over in such a way that he could not hear whether those words were in it or not. I took this statement as we do, generally, exactly as he said it. McGowan alludes to having corrected a par., of it. He goes on first to say, "I heard footsteps; I looked round and saw a man coming down the steps of No. 29." Later the statement he says, "I did not see the man's face. I had pasted the front door before I heard footsteps coming down." That is my impression of what he alludes to. The police have not, to my know ledge, had a communication from the Electric Supply Company who supply that district. I went there to make inquiries. I was not in formed that the recording instrument showed that the are lights were put out at 4.37 that morning. I should like to explain about the chart I saw Mr. Baines. He showed me two recording instruments for recording the pressure of the electric light, and also that when the arc lights in the streets are cut off—the exact time that they are cut off is recorded by the instrument. He showed me the chart of the instrument for September 11-12, showing the short vertical line marked where the horizontal one ends—that is between 4.30 and 4.45. The charts are marked in quarter hours. I will take Friday, November 8, as the date on which I called on Mr. Baines. He told me from that record it was impossible that those lights could have been burning at five to five, and that, to the best of their belief, from that instrument, the lights were out at 4.40; he also told me that they had tested the instruments and they had found that there was no greater deviation than three minutes. In Mr. Baines's room there are two recording charts, one termed the "positive" and the other the "negative" chart. The positive chart showed that the lights went off at 37 1/2 minutes past the hour. The negative chart (which I take it is this one) shows that the lights went off at 4.45. It was then November

8, this occurrence having happened on September 11-12. Mr. Baines said that he would not be positive that the clocks were correct, but he would test them. I am positive he did not tell me that the maximum variation must be less than three minutes. From the instrument, whether accurate or not, he told me that none of the lights could have been burning at 4.40 on that morning. Until November 7 I did not know that any question would arise as to these lights. I heard McGowan give evidence in the police court that he saw what he did by the light of the standards. York Road lies to the south of the Cattle Market. You have to cross the York Road to get into Brewery Road. McGowan's evidence is that when he got to the comer of Brewery Road he heard the clock strike five, doming his way the corner of Brewery Road would be where it crosses York Road.

WILLIAM JAMES MOSS . I am in the employ of the London Band Built Goss Works, in the Gay's Inn Road, as principal designer, where I have been 28 years. Prisoner has been employed in that firm for 14 years, during the last five of which he has been with me as a designer. His usual hours would be from eight in the morning to 6 10 in the evening, with an interval of three-quarters of an hour in the middle of the day. On Friday, September 13, I read some account of the murder in a newspaper; I think there was also a portrait of Dimmock dressed in a sailor costume. A day or two after I had some coercion with the prisoner. As nears I remember I said, "There is another one of those unfortunate women killed or done to death." He said he was not surprised at that kind of thing happening, as they never knew whom they could be taking home. About a fortnight later I saw in a newspaper a reproduction of the "Rising Sun" postcard. I know prisoner's writing, but did not recognise the writing on that reproduction, though it seemed familiar. I spoke to the prisoner the day that I saw the postcard. I said, "The fellow that wrote this postcard could draw." He said, "I think be can."

Cross-examined. During the last five or six years I have had the prisoner very peculiarly under my observation. The general character that he bears in the works is an exceptionally good character; he has been described as one of the favourites amongst the employees. When I saw the postcard and thought the writing was familiar I did not at once identify it as the writing of the prisoner. During the 14 years he his been there I have had more opportunity of seeing him than anyone else, and there is no peculiarity about his walk. I have not the slightest doubt about that. I can give specific instances where I have walked behind him for miles. I have never noticed anything such as has been described as taking place at the police station when taken out for the purpose of identification namely, that he had his left hand in his pocket dragging it forward, and swinging the right shoulder round. Any man pulling his coat forward like that would be bound to walk from the hips

because his clothes would be pulling him tight round the waist, and there must be a certain amount of swing. From the point of view of amiability—though virtue to an excess becomes a vice—I should describe him as altogether out of the ordinary. I know nothing in his character that would lead me to believe him capable of committing a crime of this kind. He was kind to animals, an upright, honourable, and industrious young man. I can remember that I saw him on the morning of September 12. He came to work as usual at eight. I did not notice any sign or tremor of excitement or nervousness about him that morning. He was dressed as usual in a blue serge suit, the same as he had always worn. I never saw him wear a long, dark overcoat with a loose hack. (Mr. Marshall Hall stated with reference to the western that he did not sun pose Sir Charles Mathews would contest this—that on Septembers,9, 10, 11, 12, 13, and 14 no rain fell at all; and that Thursday, September 12, was officially recorded as the hottest day but one of the summer.)

Witness. The prisoner did not wear an overcoat before the winter—at least, I never saw him with one. The earliest time before September 12 that I had seen the prisoner wearing an overcoat was certainly not later than the very, early spring. (The witness's statement before the magistrate with regard to the gait of the accused was read, and witness said he repeated that statement.) I went twice to the police station. On neither of those occasions was any suggestion made to me by any policeman that the prisoner had a swaggering gait or peculiarity in his walk I saw Inspector Neil on the two occasions. I live at 44, Gower Street, keep a house there, and am in receipt of a substantial income.

Re-examined. When I have seen the prisoner wearing an overcoat it was such an overcoat as was produced yesterday. I think it is the one I have seen him wearing. In my walks with the prisoner I did not for the most part walk beside him; I have seen him in front of me 50 times more than I have walked by his side. When we were out for a walk together we sometimes walked side by side, but sometimes there would be a party of four, and he would walk with one gentleman and I would walk with another. I have seen him walking to and from the office and up the long yard about 200 ft. long, and on one occasion the entire length of Fulham Road, when I was about eight or 10 yards behind him. My hours are the same as his. Sometimes we would walk a little way together after leaving business. There is nothing distinctive in his gait. My description before the magistrate was this: "We would walk side by side; occasionally I have walked behind him." I do not know why you want to pin me down to "occasionally." It is a vague term. I have seen him many times behind. It would be more correct to say "very often" than "occasionally." When I said to prisoner, "There has been another of these unfortunate women done to death or killed," and he replied to it, "Yes, and it is not surprising, because

they never know with whom they go home," the prisoner, is far as I could see, was in a perfectly normal condition. A fortnight later, when I had seen the facsimile of the postcard, and thought the writing was familiar to me, and said to the prisoner, "The fellow who did that postcard could draw," and the prisoner replied, "Yes I think he can," he did not upon that occasion seem to me to be perfectly normal; he seemed to me to be slightly embarrassed nothing more than that. When I called his attention to, the writing on the postcard I called attention to its artistic points. (To the Judge.) I had no idea that he was leading the life that it has been said he was living.

JOSEPH LAMBERT . I am a bookseller carrying on business at 106, Charing Cross Road, and have known the prisoner nearly two years. In February of this year I received from the prisoner the postcard (Exhibit No. 10). From that time until September 11 I did not see prisoner. On September 11 I remember being in the "Eagle" public-house somewhere between nine to a quarter past. When I went in I saw the prisoner with a young lady whom I had never seen before. I was shown at the police court a photograph of that person, which I recognise, and whom I now know as Emily Dimmock. I did not learn her name at all that night. I spoke to the prisoner and was introduced to the young lady. We had some refreshment, which prisoner ordered, and while he was ordering it he was, I should think, about five or six feet from the girl. The girl said something to me, which I do not think the prisoner could have heard. I noticed that her hair was in curling pins. She said she hoped I would excuse her dress as she had just run out. While he was ordering the drink she made a remark (which I do not think he heard) that he was a nice boy. I was in their company about 10 minutes. I gave prisoner my telephone number in case he wanted to see me again—I volunteered it. The prisoner said he had been for his holidays. I asked him what he was doing in that part of the world, and he said be had some business up there, but did not say what it was. After this ten minutes or so I left the public-house, and the two were there when I left. (His Lord-ship asked how far the "Eagle" was from 29, St. Paul's Road and Sergeant Ball said it was 720 yards.) Witness. I was in my regular employment at this time, going to my office each day. To the best of my belief, about two days afterwards I saw him again. On the Thursday morning I had seen something in the paper about the Camden Town murder. I rather think it was then that I saw a portrait of the murdered woman. On the Friday morning I rather think it was. The night I met him was September 11, which was Wednesday. I am not certain which day it was I first saw anything in the paper about the murdered girl. When I did see the portrait of the girl she was dressed in a sailor costume. I am not certain as to that either, whether I saw that portrait in the sailor costume before or after I heard from the prisoner the next time. When I heard from the prisoner about two days after I had seen him in the "Eagle" it was by telephone. (To the Judge.) It was a photograph similar to that

sailor costume that I saw—I believe it was in the "Daily Mirror." (To Mr. Bodkin.) That appeared on the 14th—Saturday. I cannot fix the day whether the first time I saw it in the paper was Saturday and not Friday. I know it was very soon after I had seen the prisoner on the Wednesday night. (To the Judge.) I cannot identify the girl that I had seen by this portrait. I do not recognise it as the portrait of the girl I had seen with the prisoner on the Wednesday night. Exhibit No. 11 is the photograph I saw at the police court and also at the inquest. I had on both occasions that I saw the photograph identified that as the woman I had seen the prisoner with. (To Mr. Bodkin.) I do not remember being recalled at the police court and being shown that photograph (indicating) or a similar one. Now that I have been shown that photograph I believe it is the photograph of the girl I saw in the "Eagle" on the evening of September 11. I am certain it was a Friday. To the beat of my belief that would be September 13. I am not positive if it was the Friday following the Wednesday in the same week, but I am certain it was a Friday. If it was not the 13th it would be the following Friday, the 20th. I got the telephonic communication about 10 o'clock in the morning. Prisoner asked me if I had read about the Camden Town affair. I answered him "Yes." He said that Mr. Moss had mentioned something about it to him. Then I think he said. "Of course, as far as he was concerned, he would be able to clear himself of anything." Then I said I did not wish to discuss such a matter on the phone; he had better come round and see me. He said that probably he would be up Holborn in the morning and that he would call. I then put the receiver up, and a few minutes after I had done so I had another ring from the prisoner. He asked me what time I closed business, and I said about eight o'clock. He then said he would call round between seven and eight o'clock. He did. He mentioned about the Camden Town affair again. He said that Mr. Moss had mentioned something about it to him, but, as far as he was concerned, he would be able, to clear himself. He also said, "If Mr. Moss says anything to you about it you can say we met, had a drink, but leave the girl out of it." I said, "That will be all right." I understood that to mean that was all I was supposed to know. I know Mr. Moss well enough to go to his house.

Cross-examined. Mr. Moss is a thoroughly respectable gentleman. I have known prisoner about nine months. I always held him in very high esteem. It was between nine and a quarter past when. I went to the "Eagle." I do not know how long prisoner had been there. The girl's name may have been mentioned, but I cannot remember. She did not seem in the slightest degree afraid of him. The bar was well lit up. I am certain that prisoner was not wearing all overcoat or carrying one. He was dressed in a blue suit which I have seen him wearing several times. I have never noticed anything out of the ordinary at all in his walk. When I saw him in the "Eagle" on the night of the 11th he did not show any sign of perturbation or excitement. When I saw him afterwards he said

he did not want to be mixed up in the affair. I went to the police on September 19. Nothing was then said to me about any alleged peculiarity in the prisoner's walk.

Re-examined. I cannot fix the date I maw the police. I have not walked with prisoner very often; when I have it has been side by side. Nothing was said by the police about any peculiarity in his walk.

LILIAN RAVEN , barmaid, "Eagle" public-house, Camden Town. On September 11 this year I was in the bar between nine and ten; I remember noticing a woman come in, because she had her hair in curling pins; she had a hat on, but I cannot any what sort of hat it was, and a long dust coat. She came in with a man, but I could not recognise him. While they were in the bar I noticed another man come in, but did not take notice of the men there. The last man joined the others just as they were about to leave. They had some refreshment. The girl spoke to the last man. As far as I remember her words were, "I hope you will excuse me for being so untidy, but I had to come and meet him."

Mr. Marshall Hall than said he objected to the evidence.

Mr. Bodkin asked the witness to look at photographs Nos. 4 and 5.

Mr. Marshall Hall agreed that she identified Dimmock, but she had not identified either of the men; and until she positively identified the prisoner as being there nothing that was said was evidence against the prisoner.

Mr. Bodkin submitted that as the witness Lambert had identified the girl Dimmock, that for the purpose of admitting what Dimmock said, the evidence of Lambert (which was not cross-examined to) about the conversation with Dimmock, himself, and the prisoner, might he used.

Mr. Marshall Hall submitted that was not sufficient, because this witness had not identified the men, and that Mr. Bodkin must prove not only that this girl said something in the presence of prisoner, but that prisoner had an opportunity of hearing it, as that was the whole principle upon which this evidence was admissible. Mr. Bodkin said it might be perfectly possible that this witness heard the girl make a somewhat similar statement but not in the same language; the sole question was whether this witness might say (after Lambert had proved that the prisoner was there) what she beard Emily Dimmock say to the man. His Lordship said, not unless it was the same remark that Lambert had said he heard Dimmock make.

Mr. Bodkin asked how it was to be determined whether the remark was the same until hit Lordship ruled that the question was proper to be put. His Lordship said that they had got two remarks, one being her statement that the girl said to him that a he had come to meet him. It might have been said to somebody else; that was not the language used by Lambert, and that was where the difficulty came in.

Witness. When I saw these three together it was between nine and half past—I cannot say the exact time. I did not see the men that the girl came in with, nor Emily Dimmock with any other person than the man who was about to leave. (Mr. Bodkin submitted that that made the observation admissible.)

His Lordship asked the witness if she meant that she only saw her with the same two men during that period from nine to half past.

The Witness. The girl came in with one man and one was about to leave when they met the other man, and then the other one went out after they had had a drink together, and the woman and the first

man remained there. (To Mr. Bodkin.) As far as I am aware the one man who went out was the only person who spoke to them while they were there.

His Lordship said he thought that would let the evidence in.

Mr. Marshall Hall submitted that it could not until the witness identified Lambert as the person who was talking to Dimmock, and until the witness identified the prisoner as the person to whom Lambert spoke and with whom Lambert and Dimmock spoke.

His Lordship said that he did not agree.

Mr. Marshall Hall then asked his Lordship to take a note of his objection.

Witness. The man who was about to leave stayed a little longer; they had some drinks together and then he left. After he left the man and the girl who came in together sat down and remained in the house about 20 minutes or half an hour, and I heard the girl say something to the man she came in with. (Mr. Marshall Hall objected to the evidence. His Lordship said he would admit it.)

Witness. I heard her say to the man she was sitting down with, "Fancy you making me come out like this." I remember having seen the prisoner's face, but I could not say where or when.

Cross-examined. I have been at the "Eagle" about two years and three months. I never saw Dimmock before. I do not know a woman called Smith; I do not know Mrs. Lawrence. I should say it was nearer ten minutes past nine than half past nine when these two people came in. The police first came to me about the matter on Friday, September 13. I went up on a Monday to Kentish Town Police Station to identify a man; I could not say if it was October 7. I may have seen an account in the papers before I went; I do not think I took much interest in it. It was common talk in the neighbourhood. Some other people were taken to the police station at the Same time to identify Wood. I could not pick him out. If Lambert was there I say the same as to him. It was very quiet in the bar. I was wiping glasses and looking at the woman some time. I should not stand looking at the men who come in the bar. I should not like to pledge my word that the exact words the girl used were, "Will you excuse me for being untidy. I had to come out to meet him"; I have said all along they were words to that effect.

RUBY YOUNG . I am now living with friends at an address which I would like to write down. I had known prisoner for three years in September last. I first met him in the Euston Road. At that time I was living in the Liverpool Road. I went to the "Rising Sun" with him that night, and after that I saw him every day. At that time he lived at 129, King's Gross Road, and worked at the Sand Blast Works in the Gray's Inn Road. I used usually to meet him as he came from business or came out to lunch. I used to come and meet him from where I lived. Liverpool Road is Islington way. My meetings with him were mostly in the street, and our evenings were spent together for the most part in going for walks. I remember his moving to 12, Frederick Street. He used to come to my

lodgings in Liverpool Road. From there I went to Liverpool Street, King's Cross, where he visited me. On January 21 this year I went to Karl's Court. During the time before I moved to Earl's Court I became intimate with the prisoner, and our meetings continued to bo of that frequent character down to the time of my moving. After January 21 this year I did not meet him as frequently, only on rare occasions—he used to come on a Saturday after he had been: to foot ball at Fulham, about five in the afternoon. That was a regular day. I used to meet him perhaps once or twice a week, sometimes at lunch time, sometimes at 6.30, outside his works in the Grey's Inn Road. We used to have a cup of tea and a walk round, then I used to go back, but he did not go back with me. I have been to prisoner's house in Frederick Street. That went on as from the month of January till towards the end of July. We were friendly. At the end of July we had a quarrel—I found him with another woman. I broke off my relations which, before I left for Karl's Court, were of an immoral character, but not after that. The improper intimacy took place at Liverpool Road and Liverpool Street—nowhere else. Nothing went on at Frederick Street; I only stopped there one night, about a week before I went to Earl's Court. I passed the night in the front room, which was occupied by the prisoner. The father and brother were in the back room. They knew nothing of it. Prisoner took me into the house. I came out about half-past nine or 10—after he left for business. Improper intimacy took place between us there. It was late at night when I went there because I had got locked out of my lodgings in Liverpool Street. The cause of the disagreement in July was that it got to my I ears there was a girl stopping with him at his father's house for a fort-night. The change in our relations between January and July was due to the distance between us. When prisoner come to see me on Saturdays the intimacy was not renewed. I saw the prisoner in August, the Sunday after he came back from his holiday. I met him in Cranbourne Street and asked about his holiday. I may have been with him about half an hour. I did not see him again during that month. On Friday, September 13, I received a telegram from him in the morning at Earl's Court asking me to meet him at 6.30 at "Phit-Eesi," in Southampton Row. (On the original telegram produced the date was September 20.) I identify this as the telegram making an appointment, which I kept. I had but one telegram. It may be my mistake; it must have been Friday, the 20th. (To the Judge.) It is signed "Bob." I always called him Bob. I kept the appointment on Friday, September 20, and saw prisoner at Phit-Eesi's. We went to Lyons', about two doors along and had some refreshment. While there prisoner said, "Ruby, if any questions are put to you, you say you always saw me on Mondays and Wednesdays." I asked him why. He said, "Will you do so?" As he gave no reason I said "Yes." We went out and walked down Charing Cross Road. We had been in Lyons' from about 6.30 to 10 to seven. Prisoner told me he was going to see Mr. Lambert at Westalls, the bookseller's. I

knew Mr. Lambert. I parted from prisoner at Leicester Square Tube Station about quarter past seven. During tea prisoner had given me a card and had written on the corner, "Mondays and Wednesdays." He made arrangements to take me to see "Miss Hook of Holland" at the Prince of Wales's on the Monday, but I could not go. I next saw him on the Sunday evening, the 29th. Postcard produced is in prisoner's handwriting, dated September 23, the morning of the day I was supposed to go to the theatre with him: "Sweetheart, if it is convenient for you, meet me as before—Phit-Eesi's at 6.30—and we will have tea together and then go to the theatre, which I hope will be a little ray of sunshine to your life.—Good-bye." That was received on the Monday morning following the parting at Leicester Square Tube, and I saw him at 6.30 in the evening at Phit-Eesi's again. He went to the Prince of Wales's Theatre first, and I followed on. He left me in order to go to the Piccadilly Tube to go home. I walked to Piccadilly Circus and took a 'bus. On that evening he said, "Mondays and Wednesdays, don't forget." I threw sway the card he gave me after I had kept the appointment. The next time I saw prisoner was when he called on me on Sunday, the 29th. Between eight and nine p.m. on that day I saw in the "News of the World" a facsimile of the postcard in his handwriting, which I cut out and enclosed it in a letter to prisoner. Newspaper produced is a copy of the one I saw. I think I just cut out the postcard. I left the envelope containing cutting on the table to post, and it was there when prisoner came. On his arrival he said, 'Ruby, I am in trouble," I answered, "Yes, I know; this is your handwriting," referring him to the letter on the table. He then earns, inside, and I gave him the letter, which he read and then burnt, keeping the outting between his fingers. He said, "Have patience, and I will tell you all," and Then told me how he' came to meet the girl. It was on, Friday; he was walking up Euston Road with a friend and they went in the "Rising Sun" for a drink. While there a girl came up and asked him for a penny to put in the electrical organ in the bar and afterwards asked for a drink. In the meantime his friend said he had to go to King's Cross and left him with the girl, making an appointment for another evening at 8.15 at the Rising Sun." While the girl and Wood were having a drink a little boy came in with some postcards. Prisoner said, "Do not buy those, they are common. I have got some in my pocket from Bruges," and showed her one. She said, "That is a pretty one; send it to me and write something nice on it." Prisoner remembering that he had the appointment with his friend wrote the same words of the same appointment. He was going to sign himself when she said, "No, don't do that; the guv'nor might cut up rough; put my friend's name, Alice." He said he would post it, but had no stamp then. They had another drink, and he went out and never saw her again that evening. The next time was Saturday, the next day, when he was going up Great College Street to the gas company, and the girl came towards him. She said he had not sent the postcard, and he told her he had forgotten

it, but potted it between then and Monday. She walked up the street with him and left him. The next time he saw her was on Monday evening in the "Rising Sun," when he saw the girls friend, who beckoned to him, and said, "Phyllis has not seen me yet." Phyllis was over the other corner with several men. Her friend signed across the bar to her, and she came running round to prisoner. They had a drink together; then she left him, saying she would be back in a few minutes; but she was so long he did not want, and as he was crossing the road she called out to him, "What about my drink?" He said, "I thought you were not coming back," because she was talking to another man at the corner—a lame man—to whom she said, "I will see you after the houses are closed." Then they both went back to the bar, she saying, "I hate that man." They stopped there drinking for some time; then they left together, and walked up Euston Road as far as Seymour Street, where there were some men on the other side—horsey-looking men, who attracted her attention, so she said good-bye to Wood and went over to them. That was the last he saw of her that evening, and he told me he never saw her again. On Tuesday he said he was with his brother Charles, whom he met in the evening in Red Lion Street. On Wednesday he said he was out walking alone, and as be had no one to prove where he was he asked me to say I was with him. I said if he went to Scotland Yard and explained to them how he came to send the postcard, and where he was on the Wednesday, he would be free; but he said he could not do it. He said he had to go back to Charles that night; and that the latter knew he was coming to ate me. I asked him where he was on that Wednesday, but he gave me no answer; he said he could not prove it. After a lot of talk I said I would say I was with him. I told him the best plan would be that we should say I met him at 6.30 at Phit-Eesi's, and had tea at Lyons'; we then walked down Kingsway, along the Strand, straight to Hyde Park Corner and to Brompton Oratory; it would then be about 10.30; we would, part there, and he would come back by tube to King's Cross; I going back the other way; he getting home about midnight. We left it at that, and I said I would carry it out. He was with me on the Sunday night till about 10 o'clock. He said he felt happier, as I was going to keep my word. I went in the tube with him to Piccadilly Circus, and he went on to Holborn. On that evening I told him it would get me into trouble; that other people would prove I was not with him. He said, "Your word and my word will stand against the world." I told him if my name got into the papers it would hurt my mother, and he replied, "If your name gets besmirched in any way I will marry you, if I get free." I told him I did not want to marry. I had a letter from him on the Monday, which I told him I had burnt. I had asked him to send some pawntickets for some articles of his, which I said I would get out for him. I got the tickets, I think on the Monday, but did not get the articles. I saw him again on Tuesday, I going to Museum Street at lunch time. He went there to lunch on Tuesdays and Fridays.

I met him coming from there, and he referred to my promise, saying, "You will be true had say you were with me on the Wednesday?" I said, "Yes, ail right, I will." I was with him about quarter of an hour. On the next day I met him at lunch time in Grays Inn Road, told we went to the Express Dairy in Hart Street. He again referred to my promise, and I said, "Yes, I will be true; but don't bother me; it is getting on my nerves." On the Thursday evening he called on me at Earl'e Court, between eight and nine about. He again referred to the promise, and I again pointed out the trouble it would get me into. He said, "If you do not want to be true say good-bye now." I said I would be true. We went together by train, and he left me about 10, going back to Holborn. On that night I met a gentleman friend and asked his advice. On the next day (Friday) I saw him again with another gentleman, about 2.30, in Gambrinus, Regent Street. As a result of our conversation one of the gentlemen left in order to communicate with the police. Later on in the evening, in consequence of a communication, I saw Inspector Neil outside Piccadilly Circus Tube. Later (about 6.30) I was in Gray's Inn Road and met prisoner coming from his work, and we walked into Holborn Viaduct. He said, 'Do you see that man over there by the gate I—I believe he is a detective." I said, "Take no notice." Soon after we met the police officers, and one spoke to prisoner, asking him to step on one side out of my hearing. Then a cab was sent for; meanwhile prisoner said to me, "Don't cry, girlie, I have to go with these gentlemen; if England wants me she must have me. Be true." I made my first statement to the police the next day, Saturday, October 5, at my room a, Earl's Court, to Inspector Neil and Sergeant Ball. I have walked beside and behind prisoner at times. He has a walk that nobody else can copy; with the left hand tight in his left pocket, and brings the right shoulder forward. If he walked behind me its more noticeable.

(A discussion took place as to whether two questions should be asked and answered in writing. Mr. Justice Grantham thought they had better be read. The written answers to the questions were identified by witness as her handwriting.)

Witness. On the occasions that I have had intercourse with prisoner I have always been dressed, except once or twice; at whose instance I cannot say. I forget the date, but prisoner once said he wished he knew what the bits of paper were that were found. I asked if he had written anything else besides the postcard; he said, "No"; that perhaps they were some bits of sketches he was doing in the "Rising Sun" which had been found. Prisoner always wore an overcoat in winter.

Cross-examined. Every word of my statement on October 5 was taken down in writing and signed by me. The first time I was asked about prisoner's gait was at the last hearing—on December 4. I had not spoken of it before. It is true that I knew prisoner intimately for nearly three years, seeing him nearly every night up to January 21 I formed the opinion that he was of a lovable nature and formed

a great affection for him. He always spoke in a kind sort of way of everybody, and of valuing the opinion of his own family very highly. It is true that our intimacy was not renewed after January this year. When I said, "The intimacy was renewed between January and July, 1907," I did not mean that kind of intimacy. I had seen prisoner between January and the occasion after he had been for his holiday in August. I had no doubt at one time that he was fond of me, but I doubt it now, and have done for some months. The trouble that made me break with him was about the girl called Pansy. Up to the beginning of August I was not jealous of him. He knew that I knew he knew several women. I did know where the "Rising Sun" was, but had only been in it once. I am not sure when I first saw the portrait of the murdered woman in the papers; I saw it in the evening paper. Until Wood came to me I had never associated him with the deceased. I could not believe, when Wood spoke to me about the postcard, that he had committed the murder. When I saw reproductions of the postcard I at once recognised Wood's writing. I follow that the alibi I made up was of no use as regards the murder itself; it did not strike me then. I should not have liked it had I known prisoner was a friend of Dimmock. I knew prisoner's father was ill and that prisoner was very fond of him. The gentleman whom I met on October 3 was Mr. McEwan Brown. I do not know that he is connected with the Press; nor did I know that the other gentleman whom I met was. When I asked their advice I put a case to them similar to this, without mentioning names, and asked them what I should do about my promise. I thought and was almost sure that prisoner would clear himself when he was arrested. I spoke about Wood's gait because McGowan had been ridiculed about it. I do not suppose I should have mentioned it had McGowan not been ridiculed. It is true that intimacy with prisoner took place once at Frederick Street; his bed is small—made for one. I had nowhere else to go that night. I know there is no convenience there. Prisoner used the words, "If I get out of it," not "If I get free," when he talked about marrying me. I have been an artist's model.

Re-examined. I had not seen prisoner between the end of July and the sending of the telegram on September 20, except the casual meeting after Bank Holiday, when I was with him for about a quarter or half an hour. On leaving we made no appointment to see each other again. I believe I saw the photograph of deceased on the Friday after the murder—that was before I received the telegram. I did see the offer of reward in the "News of the World." It had no effect on me in giving information. I told Inspector Neil I thought prisoner would be able to clear himself. I read the evidence of McGowan and of the treatment he had been subjected to, and then I determined to speak about prisoner's walk. I myself have been turned from my own home.

Mr. Justice Grantham said he would treat anybody who was proved to have interfered with witnesses in a very severe manner.)

(It was arranged that the Jury should visit the scene of the crime on the next day—Sunday.)

(Monday, December 16.)

Inspector NEIL , recalled. The coroner's inquest had practically concluded before the magisterial proceedings were commenced. The inquest commenced on Monday, September 16, when Bertram Shaw, Henry John Dimmock, Mrs. Stock, Dr. Thompson, and P.C. 418 Y were called. Dr. Thompson stated that he saw the body at about 1 p.m., and that death must have ensued seven or eight hours before. This evidence was reported in the evening papers on Monday. When Ruby Young was cross-examined she admitted having acted as a prostitute. To my knowledge she has acted as such.

JOHN PEARCE TINKHAM , foreman, London Sand Blast Decorative Glass Works, Limited. I have known prisoner as employed at the works with me about 14 years. He was in attendance in the ordinary way up to October 4. He was not under me. On September 28 I saw a facsimile of the "Rising Sun" postcard on the placard of the "Daily Mirror," looked at the handwriting, and formed the opinion it was that of the prisoner. The same morning, between 10 and 11 am., at the works, I asked prisoner if he had seen the papers that morning. He said, "No, Jack—why?" I then told him there were reproductions of certain postcards called murder clues and I believed the handwriting was his. I then showed prisoner the reproductions, including the "Rasing Sun" postcard, He said, "I acknowledge writing that card, Jack, and if you will be patient I will tell you how I came to write that card." He then gave me a long account. I afterwards saw in the newspapers a similar statement made to Neil Ruby Youngs name was not mentioned to me. He said nothing about Lambert or a telephone conversation. He said he had met Dimmock on three occasions—the first in the bar of the "Rising Sun"—that she accosted him and asked for a coin to put in the instrument, and that a boy came in with some postcards, and as she was about to buy some he stopped her, said he had some better in his pocket, and pulled the Bruges card out, that she was very pleased with it, and asked him if he would write something pleasant on the card and send it to her. The second occasion was in the Camden Road; the third occasion was in the "Rising Sun." He made no mention of the "Eagle." He said I was the first to approach him on the subject He told me his father was in a very poor state of health, and that if he knew prisoner was mixed up with this affair it might have dire results. I understood his father had gouty eczemas. He asked me as a personal favour to keep this information to myself. I told him I certainly would. On Monday, September 30, he told me he had seen his brother Charles and his wife, told them everything, and his brother's advice was that there was only one course for him to pursue—the straight one, to unburden himself to the police, and tell them

all he knew; that between them they had come to the conclusion to make a statement and send it, at I gathered, to the police. That satisfied me that the authorities had been communicated with.

Cross-examined. I think he said that the statement had been sent "to the proper quarter." I have been 14 years in the same employ as the prisoner and know him very well. His character is absolutely good, he is remarkably amiable, a very conscientious fellow, and he bears the character of an honest, upright, honourable young man—he is practically the favourite of the firm. I never met a better fellow in my life. I have very often walked with him side by side, have seen him from the back and from the front on hundreds of occasions. He has no noticeable walk that could be called a twitching forward of the right shoulder with a swaggering gait. He gave me to understand that he knew nothing whatever about the murder of the woman, and that he was very anxious not to be mixed up in the matter on account of his father's health and of his own reputation. His demeanour from September 12 to the 28th was the same as usual. He at once acknowledged writing the postcard. He was quite calm. I have noticed to peculiarity whatsoever in his walk.

ELLEN LAWRENCE , wife of Joseph Lawrence, 60, Albert Street, Barnsbury Road, printer. I have known the deceased girl eight or 10 years, and that she for some time lived an immoral life as her means of livelihood. She lived in Bidborough Street, 12, Manchester Street, 15 months ago; 30, Liverpool Street, Gower Place, College Street, Judd Street, and then with Shaw at 29, St. Paul's Road. I know prisoner well by sight. I first saw him when Dimmock lived in Manchester Street in the "Pindar of Wakefield" public-house, Gray's Inn Road, in conversation with Dimmock—they seemed very good friends. I have also seen them, both there separately. Frederick Street, in which the prisoner lives, is very near the "Pindar of Wakefield." I have not seen them together since until the Friday before the murder, September 6, in the "Rising Sun." At about 8.30 p.m Dimmock came into the bar where I was having a drink with Mrs. Smith. Prisoner came in and teemed on friendly terms with Dimmock. On Monday Smith and I when there at eight p.m. We were going to the Euston Music Hall for the second house at nine p.m. Prisoner came in. He stood Mrs. Smith and me a drink. We spoke to him, and he asked if we would have something to drink. He asked if we had seen Dimmock he called her "Phyllis." She has been known by that name ever since sue came to London. Mrs. Smith passed a jovial remark to him, "Don't tell Phyllis we have had a drink with you—she might be jealous." Shortly after Dimmock came in. said "Good evening" to us, and passed direct over to prisoner. She put a penny in the gramophone which prisoner gave her. They staved a little while and came out at the same time as we did. She said they were going to the Ho'born Empire; they crossed the road and got into a busDimmock seemed nervous, as if she did not want to go with prisoner—

She was a very timid girl—easily frightened. I and Smith returned to the "Rising Sun" at 11.30 or 11.45 p.m. after going to the Euston Music Hall. Prisoner and Dimmock came in shortly afterwards. She said they had not been to the Holborn Empire; they had been in she "Adam and Eve" all the evening. Prisoner was standing at the bar calling for a drink. The "Adam and Eve" is at the corner of Euston and Hampstead Roads. They remained till after 12 and left together. Dimmock came alone and spoke to me. I left her with Roberts. I bad seen Roberta with her on the two previous nights. When the prisoner was there he was sitting in the further corner. She said "Good evening" to Roberta while prisoner was there. (To the Judge.) There may have been further conversation between Dimmock and Roberts. I think prisoner knew of her intimacy with Roberts, because he called her outside for 10 minuses and spoke to her. (To Mr. Bodkin.) On Tuesday, September 10, at about 7.30, I was again in the "Rising Sun." Dimmock was sitting talking to Roberts—that is the last time I saw her alive. On October 6 I identified prisoner at Camden Town Police Station from a number of men. I had not previously known has name.

Cross-examined. I know Mrs. Smith. She is a truthful person. She is married to a printer at Acton. She formerly led an immoral life. I knew Dimmock in service at Luton. I led an immoral life five years ago. I am now married. Dimmock was not of the lowest class. She was as good as any in the Euston Road. I have seen her with all classes of men. I knew of the murder on September 12. I had no occasion to suspect prisoner, but I thought he should have come forward being in her company; I did not know his name or address. When he was arrested I told the police I could identify the man she, was with. I read the description in the paper stating that he wore a blue serge suit and black felt hat and had a sallow face and dark eye. I never met Ruby Young. I have heard she lived in 30, Liver-pool Street, immediately opposite where Dimmock lived in Manchester Street. I said at the police court that I saw prisoner and Dimmock 6.30 or seven p.m. on September 9, at the "Rising Sun." That is true. Mrs. Smith and I looked in there, as we thought of going to the Euston for the first house. I have no feeling against prisoner. He has never done me any harm. When I said I had seen Roberta with her the two nights previously I was speaking of the Tuesday night I saw him in her company on Sunday and Monday nights. I have not talked over my evidence with Smith. On Tuesday I saw prisoner look in at the doorway at about seven or 7.30 p.m., and that Dimmock and he recognised each other; that is true. They did not speak to one another then.

Re-examined. When prisoner looked in at the door on Tuesday Dimmock was with Roberts. I spoke to the police two days after the murder. I identified prisoner on October 6 and then made and signed a statement. I knew Dimmock eight or ten years when she was quite a young girl in service.

FLORENCE SMITH (address handed in). I have gone by the name of Emily Steward. I have known Dimmock about 12 months. I used to go to the "Rising Sun" and see her there. On Friday, September 6, I went there at about eight p.m. alone and saw the prisoner there. He said, "Good evening"—I had never seen him before. Emily Dimmock came into the bar and spoke to the prisoner. I then left them together. On Monday, September 9, I went to the "Rising Sun" with Lawrence. Prisoner came in. I said, "Are you going to treat us?" He paid for a drink for me and Lawrence. I said, "Don't tell Phyllis." He smiled and we three had a drink. Shortly after Dimmock came in, prisoner spoke to her and they had a drink together There was conversation as to where we were going, which resulted in Lawrence and I saying we were going to the Euston music hall and in their saving they would go to the Holborn Empire. At 8.30 or 8.45 we left them in the bar and went to the Euston and returned at about 11.30 to the "Rising Sun," when Dimmock and prisoner were in the bar. I asked, "Have you enjoyed the Holborn Empire?" Dimmock said, "We have not been to the Holborn Empire, we have been sitting in the 'Adam and Eve' all night"—that is a public-house at the comer of Hampstead Road. We stayed there talking till about 12.10, when, as far as I remember, Lawrence and I left them there. The woman seemed very nervous—as if she wanted to get away; but she did not say so to me. That was the last time I saw her alive. On Sunday, September 16, I made a statement to the police—I awoke to them on the Thursday or Friday previous. I afterwards identified the prisoner as the man I had seen with Dimmock on September 6 and 9.

Cross-examined. Lawrence has not spoken to me about the evidence I gave before the magistrate.

GLADYS WARREN , 40, Union Road, Newington. Two years ago I lived at 121, Judd Street, Euston Road. Dimmock used to come round and see me. She had one of my rooms for one week—on April 27, 1906—because she was turned out of her lodgings. I had known her for about three years before that. I did not keep up the acquaintance after that—I used to see her, but I was not friends with her. The last time I saw her was about nine months before she was murdered, when she called at my place. Previous to 12 months ago, when she was living in Gower Place, I saw her with the prisoner in the "Rising Sun" once in April, 1906; once at the corner of Judd Street; and once in June. 1906, going up Euston Road, I knew she afterwards lived in Belgrave Street, King's Cross. I have left the neighbourhood of Euston Road for about 12 months. On October 6, at the police station, I identified the prisoner as the man with Dimmock on the three occasions I have mentioned.

Cross-examined. I have been living in the same house with Lineham for some time. I know him very well. I did not live with him. I have not had immoral relations with him. I knew the life Dimmock was living—it was very low class—that is why I did not

associate with her. She has never mentioned prisoner to me. I did not say before the magistrate, "I have read about the case and had seen the description of the man before I went to the police station"—that is what they said I said. I may have said so, but I do not remember it.

Re-examined. I picked out the prisoner because I remembered having seen him with deceased.

WILLIAM LINEHAM , Rush House, Covent Garden, office attendant. Up to about April, 1906, I lived at 121, Judd Street. Gladys Warren also lived there. I had known Dimmock (bout 3 1/2 years up to September, 1907; she lived at 13, Manchester Street; Gower Place; and 121, Judd Street, where she lived for a few weeks about April. 1906. I have seen her in the "Rising Sun" on several occasions. I have seen the prisoner four or five times in the "Rising Sun" between 18 and nine months ago—that is between April and December, 1906—in company with the deceased. On October 6 I picked out the prisoner from a number of men as the man I had seen in the 'Rising Sun" with Emily Dimmock.

Cross-examined. I have only seen Warren lately in reference to this case. I know her well as a friend—nothing more. I occupied three rooms at Judd Street for about two months, paying 8s. 6d. a week. I let one of them to Dimmock for three or four weeks; another was occupied by Warren, and I occupied the third. I do not know what rent Warren paid me at Judd Street. I do not remember the name of the landlord. I afterwards went to live in Burleigh Street. Warren left Judd Street before I did. Since that most of the time Warren and I have lived at the same address. She has not always been a tenant of mine. We both lived for about four months in Tolmer Square, and then both went to Union Road. I have never spoken to the prisoner. Dimmock has never mentioned him to me by name. I cannot swear to any date on which I saw them together. Before I identified the prisoner I had seen a description in the "Morning Leader" or one of the papers. I just spoke to Warren about it. I saw the prisoner end Dimmock together at about eight or nine p.m. I cannot say what clothes he wore—he had not an overcoat. I should describe him as an broad-shouldered as myself. I could not pass an opinion whether he is a broad-shouldered man. I recognised the man by his face. I do not know if he had a blue serge suit on when I identified him. I knew what Dimmock was during the 3 1/2 years I knew her. I knew Warren gave up her acquaintance 10 months ago because she did not like her friendship any longer. I fancy Dimmock paid me about 5s. rent—I think she only lived in the house a fortnight, and that I did not receive any rent. She agreed to pay 5s. a week.

EDWARD CHARLES SMEETH , "Rising Sun" public-house, brother-in-law of licensee. I assist in the conduct of the business, and remember seeing prisoner on Friday, September 6. I bad seen him before, hut cannot place the time; he did from time to time use the house.

Dimmock also used it, and was there on that evening. She came before prisoner, who when he came in beckoned to her. She got up and went towards him, and they bad conversation and drinks, being there same little while. I did not see them go out. I saw prisoner again on Monday, September 9. Dimmock was there when he came in, and they left together. I could not remember whether Mrs. Lawrence or Mrs. Smith were there that night. Prisoner and deceases returned about 10.20, and remained till very nearly 12, leaving together. The deceased woman returned afterwards alone and rerosined till closing time. On Tuesday, the next night. I saw the woman again about 11.30 p.m. I did not see her on the 11th. I go into the bar generally about 8.15, and do not leave till 9.30 or 10, when I have my supper, and then remain till closing time. I have seen prisoner using the house, it may be for two or three years; also Dimmock. On the night of the 9th I saw Dimmock go through the private door in the bar which leads to a place of accommodation.

Cross-examined. I am sure it was the 9th when I saw her go through the door I cannot say whether she had done it before. The "Rising Sun" is a large house and a corner one. I have known a woman called Harvey and a man called Sharpies since this case has been on. I have seen them before. I could not say whether they were in the "Rising Sun" on Sunday, the 8th. I know a girl called "Little Annie," but do not know what has become of her. I also know a girl called "Little Nellie." The first time I remember speaking to Dimmock was two years ago. She did not tell me she was married to a sailor, or show me a bangle or anything of that kind. I know Roberts; have done since September 6; I also know Clark, his friend; have done for five or six months. He frequently used the "Rising Sun." I would not be sure whether Clark was at the "Rising Sun" on September 6. I saw both Clark and Roberta on the 11th, the night of the murder; they were there together. Roberta was in there a long time before Clark; he might have come just before five or half-past. I went away at eight and came back at 8.15 they were still there. I missed Roberts for a time, but could not say whether he went away. I may have seen him again just before 10. The two of them stopped there till just before closing time, and both went out together towards Euston Road. I could not tell which direction they took in Euston Road. They turned towards the right from the saloon bar into the main road. I am positive I did not see Dimmock there that night. Roberts was there on the Thursday. Clark was not with him when he came in. There was a bit of commotion that night consequent upon the news of the murder. The detectives were in and out all the evening. I have had a woman called May Campbell pointed out to me. She used the "Rising Sun"; I had not seen her for months before then. We were pretty busy on the night of the 11th. I do not know a man as being in the house on the 11th answering to the description of: "Age 26 to 30, about 5 ft. 10 in., fresh looking, smart respectable appearance, thick set, blue serge jacket suit, and bowler hat."

Re-examined. Roberts stopped in the "Riling Sun" on the 12th till the detectives came. They arrived about twenty minutes alter.

Police-constable HORACE BROOKER , 8 Y R. I was at Kentish Town Station on Sunday, October 6, in charge of prisoner from two o'clock till 10 at night; he was in the cell cell of the time, being taken out at different times for identification. About 9.15 prisoner said something of which I took a note, "Why it it they want me out so many times?" I said, "It is to see that you are the proper man that they know." Shortly after he said, "If it comes to a crisis I shall have to open out."

Cross-examined. I know he did say that.

JOHN WILLIAM CRBTREE . I have no fixed abode at present. I was living at 1, Bidborough Street about May twelvemonth. I purchased the lease of that house. Previous to my going there Phyllis Dimmock stayed there as well as alter. The other people were respectable people. While living there I have seen prisoner there. I once say him coming down from the first floor towards the cellar; in fact, I saw him on several occasions. One night as I opened the door I met Wood in the passage and he passed down into my kitchen, and while I was putting my bicycle away Dimmock followed him down and got hold of his arm and wanted something from him. What the something was I do not know. I said, "What it all this bother about?" Dimmock says, "Give it to me." With that prisoner said, "Oh, she is only a common prostitute, and you know so." With that he went through my door up the area steps. He used to stop there on several occasions. On another occasion I was called up into the bedroom early in the morning, and Phyllis was in a nude condition except for a sheet thrown over her shoulders. This would be before seven in the morning; about half-past six. Dimmock asked me when I wet going out would I take a silver cigarette case and pawn it for her. Wood was there in bed. She gave me the case, and I said to Wood, "Is this yours?" He said, "Yes." They then asked me to hand it back and never mind pawning it, and I gave it to Wood. Wood remained in bed. I afterwards went to Manchester Street, and Dim mock also lived there. That would be about the latter end of June last year. On the Saturday after we moved I saw prisoner there. On a subsequent occasion I saw Wood at the corner of Gray's Inn Road and Manchester Street, and saw him again in the "Pindar of Wakefield." One day prisoner came to Manchester Street while Dimmock was at Portsmouth, and asked for her. I told him she was not in, and he asked me when I expected her. I did not know. When she came back he came to the house again. I was convicted for keeping a brothel at Manchester Street in July last year and sentenced to three months' imprisonment. I came out on May 24, as I had had a ticket to serve. After that I went to 30a, Argyll Square. In May this year I was sentenced again for keyring that house at a brothel, getting four months. The sentence expired about ten days ago.

Cross-examined. The first time I went to prison was for horse sealing. I got three years' penal servitude. I think I tell the truth sometimes. I try to. I have lived 56 years and have only been in prison three times. I do not know that my state of mind has been inquired into. I am sober; I have never tasted liquor in my life. Most emphatically I swear that I have seen prisoner in my house—with at a shadow of doubt; in Bidborough Street and Manchester Street; last May. June, and July—always in the evening. It may have been after seven or eight, or nine. The man has been there so often that I could not give the exact hours. He was a constant visitor. I made two statements to the police while I was in Pentonville. As to why the police came to me, that is a question for them. When they came to me I was frightened out of my life, because I though' they were coming to me for the murder; and what they said to me I did net believe at the time. I did not know when the girl bad been murdered. The police have a certain way of going about; they do not tell the truth always when seeking information. They tell lies to get at the truth of things; that is my experience. I have not made a statement I cannot substantiate. From what the police told me I realised Dimmock was the woman who was murdered. I do not know who has called me as a witness. I was not called before the magistrate The description of the man, I suggested might have committed this murder is right. The man referred to is Sortie, but he is not that man (prisoner). Scottie is not "Scotch Bob"; there is another one, a motor driver. It was not my business to find him out. "I know that Scottie had threatened Dimmock on many occasions, several times had beat her and knocked her about, and on one occasions he took her purse from her when he spent the night with her. I have heard him say he would do her in, and that he would cut her throat as she had ruined him for life by giving him the disease. I have heard her speak of the sailor named Biddell, and when she went to Portsmouth the man I have described called at the house, and, finding she was gone, got very angry, swore about her, and threatened to do for her. He wanted to go to her room, and when I would not let him he got a razor and opened it, took his handkerchief from his pocket, wrapped it round the handle of the razor, and, waving it. said he would do her in yet," etc. That is correct. I was talking to that man last Saturday week. "I frequently heard him asking for money, which she always found for him." That is correct. The statement is correct all through. (Witness's statement was read.) I did what I could to assist the police to find the murderer; it was not for me to suggest anything. In my statement I referred to Wood as a man who used to be friendly with Dimmock from what my wife had heard, and that I could tell something about him. I recognised his handwriting on the burnt fragment instantly. I pointed out its peculiarity to Inspector Neil. The police came and took me to Highgate Police Station to identify someone; I did not know where I was being taken. I taw prisoner among other men. I said the man I had referred to was not there, but that there was a

man who knew Dimmock. I was under the impression that Scottie was the man who committed the murder, and I was disappointed; but I recognised Wood instantly.

Re examined. I had an appointment with Scottie last Saturday week, when I came out of prison. He said to me, "Jack, you are a fine fellow, trying to put a halter round my neck." I did not tell the police about him; I do not know how they got to know. I am not a tout for the police. When I went to the police station I looked for Scottie, as I thought. Wood was the sixth man in the line. I was asked to put my band on the man I said I knew to be an associate of Dimmock, but I refused at first; eventually I did. I had had a number of letters in my possession addressed to Dimmock; that is how I recognised Wood's writing. I could give a copy of his writing now if I had a pencil and paper. The sample of writing produced is what I gave to the police; written by me. There is a peculiarity about the "g." Statement produced was signed by me. (It was stated that the witness had been called before the coroner for the defence, but was not called at all before the magistrate.)

Further cross-examined. I remember the furniture being removed' from 27, St. Pancras Buildings by Dimmock. I did not see who was moving it. It was on a Saturday; I could not give the date. I did not know Dimmock when she lived in St. Pancras Buildings. I never threatened Dimmock in my life.

ALEX. MACKIE , kitchen porter, at present living in Rowon House. I was not in London in September; I left in September, 1906. returning last Monday, December 9. I knew Dimmock. On September 11 I was at Portpatrick Hotel, Portpatrick.

Cross-examined. I was known as Scotch Bob. I knew Harry She repels and Fred Harvey. I do not know anybody called Scottie. I did have a rash on my face at one time—pimples. It was worse on the left side and was the result of an illness contracted in Glasgow. I saw in the Glasgow papers that Scotch Bob was supposed to be connected with Dimmock. I thereupon came to London and was advised to go to the police. At first I said I had bad no connection with Dimmock.

(Mr. Marshall Hall submitted that the prisoner ought not to be put in peril by going before a jury, on such evidence as had been heard. Mr. Justice Grantham said that be could not say there was no case.)

(Tuesday, December 17.)

Inspector NEIL , recalled. The police made inquiries at the Lock Hospital, Dean Street, Soho, in reference to thie case. We traced a man said to be a Pullman Car conductor. We also found a man who attended at the hospital for the purposes of injection. There were-no finger prints on the tumblers at the rooms Shaw sod the deceased occupied.

(Defence.)

GEORGE WOOD , compositor. Until lately I resided at 12, Frederick Street, Grays Inn Road, and am now living with my son Charles. I have been in my present situation 26 years, and was previously in a situation for 23 years. I am a widower, and prisoner, Robert Wood, is my son. I have a son called Charles and another called George James. Charles is prisoner's full brother and James is his half-brother. I never knew prisoner to be impeached for anything. On September 9 I had to leave my work in the forenoon on account of gouty eczema. On the following day, Tuesday, I consulted a doctor who gave me a bottle of lotion to a, ply to the diseased foot. On Wednesday the bottle was accidentally upset, and the contents went on to the hearthrug in my bedroom. Myself and stepson slept in the back room and prisoner sleep in the front room. There is communication between the two by folding doors. During this week I had my son Robert's clock in my room, my own clock being defective. The prisoner's usual hour for going to business in the morning was five minutes to eight. He was within six or seven minutes' walk of his place of business, and he was due there at eight o'clock. He used to come into my room for the clock at night Dime. I do not know whether he did so on the Monday in that week, but on the Tuesday and Wednesday he did, I know. I am able to fix Wednesday night particularly because that was the night the bottle was upset. On that night, to the best of my recollection, Robert came in for the clock at midnight. I was in bed, and James also. James had come home about half-past 11. Robert would come into my room from the street door. The folding doors would be blocked with furniture. Alter saving a few words Robert went into his room and locked the door. My foot was very bad that night, and I did not sleep until the dawn, and if my son Robert and got up that night, unless he had been preternaturally quiet, I should probably have heard him. I do not think I heard any movement in his room prior to the dawn. I heard him moving about 20 minutes before eight o'clock. It does not take him long to dress. James gets his break fast ready for him in my room, and prisoner comes in to have it. When I saw him a breakfast that morning he did not seem i-n any way per turned or nervous. He was in his shirt sleeves and slippers, and was cheerful; he is always of a very cheerful disposition. He has always been a good-iterated son to me. I first heard my son's name connected with this crime on Friday evening, October 4. About 11 o'clock that night Inspector Neil and two police officers called at the house. They told me not to be upset, but my son had been arrested on the charge to murdering Emily Dimmock. Inspector Neil said he must ask me some questions and make a search. I gave him even' facility. It is a long time since then, and I really forget what was said, but I know I remembered Wednesday, September 11, on account of the upsetting of the bottle. Inspector Neil did not ask me to make any statement. The officers searched my son's room. My son's overcoat was not hanging behind the door when they made the

search. As to Neil's statement that he took the overcoat off the door and laid it on the bed, there was no overcoat on the door; there was a vest, a pair of trousers and jacket There are only two little noble to hang them on. On the next day, or the neat day but one, police officers came and asked for the overcoat. I explained to them that the drawers had been examined the night before, and one of the officers said, "We are looking for something else now." One of them went up the chimney with his arms and he examined the chimney in my room as well. Shortly afterwards they left. I did not notice thaw they took anything with them. On the Sunday night, October 6, a police officer came for the overcoat. When they came on October 4 I saw the overcoat in a drawer. On the Sunday night James gave them the overcoat, and I did not see where it was taken from. My son's habit was to take to his overcoat late in the season. He very seldom used it during September. There is a peculiarity about prisoner's left hand. The little finger is crooked, and there is a soar on the third finger, the result of a burn when he was a baby. His stepmother died in February of this year. Since then he has been particularly attentive in looking alter me. There is no marked peculiarity in his walk. He is a very neat walker. I have had 18 children. None of them has any physical peculiarity.

Cross-examined. I cannot fix the date when Robert's clock was first brought into my room. On Monday, September 9, I was at home and the clock was brought in for my convenience. I remember well the visit of the police on the evening of Friday, October 4. I may have said to Inspector Neil that my son, alter returning from business and having his tea, would go out again, and, as a rule, would look in and say, "Good night" before retiring to rest, but I Could not speak to any particular night that my son was at home in the week of September 11. I think I first mentioned about the liniment being upset at the coroner's inquest on October 28. I do not remember having said to Inspector Neil on October 4, "My son comes home and goes out again and comes in at all times." The inspector may have asked if I remembered at what time my son came home on the night of September 11. I did not say I could not speak to any particular night as I was asleep. I think my son's clock was brought in on the Monday. I think it possible that anyone might get into the front room occupied by my son without anyone in the back room hearing. I do not know that any time my son has brought anybody home to No. 12, Frederick Street. My son James's overcoat was not hanging on the peg of the door of the room in which prisoner slept. I have been troubled with eczema for 20 years. I had been suffering from it Acutely prior to September 9. It kept me away from my work for 10 weeks.

Re-examined. My suffering had become so acute that I was unable to continue my work on September 9. The doctor who attended me was Dr. Humphrys, of Caledonian Road. When the conversation took place with Inspector Neil on October 4 Neil had a book in his hand, but it is impossible for me to tell what he put down.

JAMES GEORGE WOOD , 18, prisoner's stepbrother. I generally come home between 10 and 12 at night. I sleep in my father's room and my brother Robert sleeps in the other room. I remember the week my father stayed away from his work. I remember my brother's circle being Brought into my father's room on the Monday afternoon. On the night of September 11, when I came home, I saw some wet on the carpet. I went to bed after I had had some supper. I remember my brother Robert coming in later and winding the clock He made some cheery remark, said "Good night" and took the clock with him into his own room. He went in from the door leading into the postage, the folding doors being blocked with furniture. I generally sleep well. I could not swear positively that my brother did not get up and go out. I heard my brother lock his door and walk across the floor. I cannot swear positively that I heard anything more. I next saw my brother at about five minutes past seven on the following morning. At five minutes to seven I called him by knocking on the folding doors. I have got the break fast ready since my mother died. We have breakfast in the back room. My brother came in to breakfast. He had no coat on. He left for work about 15 minutes to eight. Prisoner has treated me much better than a brother, and I agree with my father that he is of kind and affectionate disposition. I first heard my brother's name associated with the tragedy on September 30. I was not present when the police came on October 4. My father's statement that he was then alone in the home is, so far as I know, accurate. I used to keep my overcoat in my own room. On the Sunday night (October 6), when I came home about 11 o'clock, Inspector Neil was standing facing the door waiting for me. Roberts overcoat was not hanging behind the door of his room. My own overcoat was hanging behind the door of the other room. I did not see Robert's overcoat that night. I was at home on Saturday morning when the two officers came and searched the chimneys and the chest of drawers. Another officer came on Sunday night and asked if I could give him my brother Robert's overcoat because he was cold. I gave him the coat, which I got from the chest of drawers. On the night of September 11 I had been to the Islington Empire Music Hall. That was the night the lotion was upset.

Cross-examined. It was on September 30 that I first had any intimation of my brother Robert being connected with the crime. It was then he told me about the letter which had been sent to the General Post Office. I saw mention of the postcard in the newspapers on Sunday, September 29. I showed my brother the newspaper and pointed out that the writing on the card was like his. He admitted that it was, but showed no sign of uneasinets. On the following day he told me about the letter to the General Post Office and said it had been written after consultation with his brother Charles.

Mr. Justice Grantham said he did not understand why the letter should have been sent to the Poste Restante. If prisoner had wished

to make any explanation it should naturally have been sent to the police.

Witness. The letter was addressed to prisoner's brother Charles. Prisoner said he did not want to get mixed up in the affair. The letter was sent as a matter of good faith as showing that my brother did not want to get out of sending the postcard. He explained to me the circumstances under which he had written the card, that he had me the girl on the Friday evening in the "Rising Sun" that a boy came in with picture postcards and asked him to buy some and he said, "Do not buy those common things; I have some better ones in my pocket which I brought from Bruges," and he took one out and the girl admired one of them in particular and asked him to write something on it and he did so. Not having a stamp he pat it in his pocket, and on Saturday, while going to the Gas Company's office in Own den Town, he met Emily Dimmock and she reminded him about the postcard; however, he put it in his pocket again and forgot it until the Sunday, and he posted it some time on the Sunday. He did not tell me that Friday, September 6, was the first time he hud seen her. We had a lengthy conversation—something like 20 minutes. I had not the date of the murder in my mind on October 4 when the police officers came. I had not in mind at that time that my father was ill on that day, nor was the accident to the bottle of liniment present to my mind, nor that my brother came in and fetched the clock. I recalled these, incidents and fixed them as having happened on the night of September 11 on the following morning (October 5). My father was sitting thinking that morning and he said to me. "It was on September 9 that I came home." He attached great importance to the knocking over of the lotion, and said it was on the Wednesday night. I paid no particular attention to the matter then, but I recalled the incidents some days afterwards. When the police were here on October 4 I was asked specifically whether I could remember Wednesday, September 11. I said then I oould not distingcish any particular night. I do not remember being aaked what time my brother came in on September 11. I was examined before the coroner on October 28. I may then have said I could not remember anything about September 11. I was rather flurried before the coroner, it was the first time I had been in Court in my life. I oould speak to my brother coming home to tea on the night of the 11th because he never misted that. I attach no particular importance to my father's efforts to revive his memory, as I expected to see my brother walk home on the Sunday afternoon. It was not until October 8 that my memory revived in regard to the incidents of the evening of September 11. I began to think. I did not tell the inspector on October 4 that my brother sometimes came home after I was asleep. I never noticed thar it was my brother's habit to carry his injured hand in his pocket. I think if my brother had not come in on any night I should have missed him. I cannot remember that I ever went to sleep without hearing whether my brother had returned home. I did not purposely remain awake. I am generally writing or reading till very late. I

was thinking of going into the Civil Service and I sat up very late over my books, and when he came in he used to say sometimes, "Do not burn that gas there all night." I never knew of his bringing any one home to No. 12, Frederick Street to sleep.

Re-examined. On the night of October 4 I was on able to say definitely without consideration what my brother's movement were on the night of September 11. On the Saturday morning my father was sitting with both hands to his head thinking terribly and he said, "I think I can recall that night. I was at home here on the 9th and I got the lotion on the 10th, and on the 11th I remember upsetting it." When that was said it tallied with my own recollection, and I have no coubt it had taken place my father said, but as I say I did not take any notice of it at the time, because I expected my brother would walk in a free man next afternoon. On September 9 I was at Sadler's Wells music-hall. On the Tuesday night my brothers Charles and Robert came in together and I went half-way home with Charlet, a thing that had never happened before. That night is, therefore, fixed in my mind. On Wednesday evening, as I could rot find any of my friends I went to the Islington Empire. When I came in I turned up the gas, and on glancing round I noticed some water on the cirpet, which my father accounted for by the upsetting of the liniment. At the time the letter was sent to the Poste Restante my brother had not been charged or arrested. My brother told me he was anxious not to be mixed up with the affair in any way whatever.

CHARLES WOOD , prisoner's brother. I am married, and live at 143, Museum Street, Bloomsbury. My age is 32. I am a printer's reader, and have been for 14 years in one employment. My brother's general reputation is exceedingly high and he is kind, considerate, and affectionate. On Saturday, September 29, I saw in the "Daily Chronicle" a reproduction of what is now known as the "Rising Sun" postcard. My brother freely avowed having written the postcard and told me how he came to meet the dead woman. On Tuesday, September 10, prisoner spent practically the whole evening with me. I met him in Theobald's Road at the back of Gray's Inn. From there we went to the John Street public library, and he afterwards accompanied me to a barber shop and then to my house, where we had some supper. He stayed there some little time, and afterwards I accompanied him home to see my father, who had been taken ill on the previous day, and my step-brother James walked part of the way home with me. When I saw him on September 28, and we had a conversation about this postcard, I told him the only proper thing to do was to acquaint the police with the circumstances. I knew of his association with Ruby Young. My brother assented to my suggestion that the right and proper thing to do was to communicate with the police, but we were in a state of hesitancy and could not make up our minds that we should go to them that night. Two things influenced my brother's mind: One was the state of my father's health, who was suffering rrom a complication of gouty eczema and ulceration. We decided to wait until the next day, and on the Sunday we met again. My brother

was very averse to publicity, and finally I proposed that I should write the statement that hat been read, and that for greater honesty of purpose it should lie out of our hands. The writing of the letter was obviously not intended to assist the police, but was simply to put on record facts that had come to my knowledge. The letter was signed by myself, my wife, and the prisoner, and was as follows: "43, Museum Street, London, W.C., Sunday, September 29, 1907—We, the undersigned, make this statement and place it in the charge of the Poste Restante at St. Martin's-le-Grand in order to safeguard our good faith in the matter should our course of action be impeached. We, the two first signatories, are aware, from his own free avowal, that the postcard signed 'Alice,' published in the newspapers of September 28 and 29 by desire of the, police in order to obtain information in the 'Camden Town Murder' case, is in the handwriting and was written by Robert Wood, of 12, Frederick Street, W.C. We, jointly, are anxious to assist the police in every way possible, but we are also anxious to avoid the publicity and personal trouble occasioneded by an immediate communication. Having regard to the unreliability of the newspaper theories and comment, and being absolately satisfied as to Robert Wood's bona-fides and that his contribution to the matter own aid but little, we consider it wise to await the results attained at the adjourned inquest on September 30, and while trusting that the intervention of Robert Wood may thereby become unnecessary, at the same time we determine, should no satisfaction arise from the inquest that Robert Wood shall make his avowal to the authorities immediately.—(Signed) Chatties Oarlyie Wood, Bessie M. Wood, Robert Wood." My brother's habit with regard to his injured hand it to retain his glove when perhaps other people would remove it He has a delicacy about it. It is an abominable lie to say that he has a swaggering fail He has no peculiarity which would attract the attention of a casual observer seeing him for the first time.

Cross-examined. My brother would sometimes carry his injured hand in his jacket pocket, but I do not think I can recall any instance when I have seen him so walking. On September 28 my brother told me that Mr. Tinkham had recognised the handwriting of the facsimile of the postcard published in the paper. It is not correct to say my brother made a statement; it came up in conversation. I was under the impression that the writing might be my brother's. I cannot recall the details of the conversation, but the effect of it was that there was only one thing to do—that he had better go to the police and let them know of it. He said he had seen the deceased woman on September 9. I never conversed with him about Ruby Young. He never wavered in his determination to go to the polios. He left about seven o'clock on the Sunday night and returned at 9.30. He did not tell me how he had employed the interval. The plan was not subsequently changed, the determination to go to the police remained; it is postulated in the statement, but it was post-poned.

I did not know that my brother had ceased his association with Ruby Young towards the end of July. I knew of his association with her in a vague way. I knew he had met her on October 3 because she called at my house subsequently. I know where the "Rising Sun" is very well. It would be about 25 minutes' walk from the public library in John Street. That was the nearest I and my brother were to the "Rising Sun" that night. My memory was revived as to these incidents in consequence of Mr. Arthur Newton's request for information.

ARTHUR ARMITAGE HUMPHRYS , physician and surgeon, 98, Caledonian Road, gave evidence as to supplying Mr. George Wood with some lotion for the treatment of gouty eczema and ulceration of the leg on September 10. Witness saw Mr. Wood again on the 16th, when he stated that he had had an Accident with the bottle, and witness thereupon gave him some more.

JOSEPH WILLIAM ROGERS , 12, Frederick Street. I am a jeweler and have known Mr. Wood and his family for about a year. I have seen prisoner going in and out on several occasions. I occupy two rooms in the basement immediately beneath those occupied by the Woods. I suffer from bronchitis, which interferes with my getting to sleep, and I rarely go to bed before two o'clock in the morning. I belong to an angling society, and, like all fishermen, take a keen interest in the sport. Once a month we have a price outing. We meet to weigh in our fish for prices on the Sunday night, and on Monday night we meet for the business of the club. There was a fishing coutest on the third Sunday in September, in which I was going to take part. I use for bait, amongst other things, lob worms, which you can only get at night, and I put them into scour four days before I go out. On the night of Wednesday, September 11, I was out gathering worms as usual. I had just put them into the shed, and, just as I was shutting' the door, I taw prisoner come up the steps, take the key out of his pocket, open the door, and come in. That was about half-past 11 or 20 minutes to 12. When I heard that this was an important date I made a communication to Mr. Wood and afterwards to Mr. Newton, the solicitor. I attended at the inquest as a witness and was very much aggrieved on public grounds that I was not called.

Cross-examined. It was on Sunday, October 6, that I heard Wood was locked up. The preparation of my bait takes four days. Some people keep their worms in scour five or six days, but I like worms fresh because they are more likely to catch fish. Some people keep them a week or a fortnight, according to their own liking. When I was told that Wood had been locked up I said the murder could not have been done by him because I knew he was at home. I have lived in the same house with prisoner for 12 months. I was at home on the 4.1th because my little girl was ill, and that is the reason I did not go out that night. I get the worms from the garden in front of my house, and I had not to leave the premises to get them.

WILLIAM ARTHUR BROWN , employed in the electricity department of the St. Pancras Borough Council, supplying the St. Paul's Road distirict,

stated that there were two clocks which recorded the moment at which the current was cut off, and produced a chart showing the time at which the current was turned off on the night of September 11 and 12. The switch controlling the current to the electric standard in St. Paul's Road was turned off at 4.37 a.m. The maximum error in the clocks was three minutes, and, allowing that three minutes, the current would have been turned off at 4.40 a.m., and that was the latest time at which the lamps could have been alight. It was quite impossible that they could have been alight at 4.55 a.m.

WILLIAM WESTCOTT , ticket collector, King's Cross Station, City and South London Railway. I have lived at 26, St. Paul's Road for five years. No. 29 is about 260 yards away on the opposite side of the road. I generally leave for my work at five minutes to five in the morning. I am supposed to be at King's Cross at five o'clock. My first collection is at 5.38 or 5.40, and, as a matter of fact, I am never there absolutely at five o'clock. A man named Varney, who is in the employment of the London and North-Western Railway Company, lived with me at that time. He is now stationed at Wolferton, but was then stationed at Euston. In the week from September 9 to September 14 my time for leaving the house would be about five minutes to five. There is an electric light standard opposite the house. I fancied when I came down the steps I saw a figure going up towards the "Murray Anna," Brewery Road. There is a passage that leads to another house at the back, and we have had people after the pigeons and poultry before. I could not identify the man. I looked across and thought to myself, "Somebody after the pigeons." I pulled the door to, went down the steps, and looked round, and as I looked round the man turned and walked off. I saw in the paper the description of a man who had a peculiar swing in his walk. I am conscious that I have had a swing in my walk, because they say it is good exercise. Except for that statement in the paper, my attention would not have been called to this matter at all. I have on now the coat I was wearing that morning. (Witness turned up his collar, put on his hat, and gave an illustration of his method of walking.) I have come forward perfectly voluntarily and made a communication to Mr. Newton and had an interview with him and yourself last Sunday.

Cross-examined. It would take me from 20 to 25 minutes to walk from my house to King's Cross. If we get there at 5.15 they book us down as having been there at five o'clock. I should not pass No. 29. As soon as I leave my house I turn down College Street.

FRANCIS GEORGE VARNEY , in the employ of the London and Northwestern Railway, now stationed at Wolferton, gave evidence as to calling the last witness in the week of September 9 and 14, and said he had noticed Westcott's peculiar walk.

JAMES DURHAM HUNTER , manager of the London Sand Blast Company's works, said he had known prisoner for 14 years, and he had risen from a very small to a leading position in the works. His

character was excellent, he was steady, reliable, industrious, and had good abilities. He was always cheerful and light-hearted, and the reverse of morose and sullen. He had constantly seen the prisoner walk, and there was nothing in his gait which would rivet the attention of a casual observer, nor had he any peculiarity of the right shoulder. He was due at business at eight o'clock in the morning.

Mr. Marshall Hall said he had 65 witnesses, all employed by this firm, and he was prepared to call every one of them to say that prisoner had no peculiarity in his walk.

Sir Charles Mathews said he would accept the statement that the employees of the firm had never noticed any peculiarity in the prisoner's walk.

PETER MCNEILL , a friend of the prisoner; said he had known him about eight years, and denied that he had any peculiarity of gait or of the right shoulder.

HABIT SHARPLES , commission agent. I made a statement to the Treasury on September 14, 1907, in company with Frederick Harvey. On Sunday, September 8, I was in the "Rising Sun" about 10 o'clock with Frederick Harvey, and we stayed till about 20 minutes to 11. I knew the deceased woman a a a Phyllis Dimmock. She was there that night. She was in company with some gentleman wearing a blue suit. I could not describe his face. He was a smart-looking chap. It was not the prisoner, but a smarter-built chap. He had on a bowler hat, and I should say his height was 5 ft. 9 or 10 in. I stood alongside to him in the bar. I saw Dimmock again on the night of the 11th about 10 minutes past 12 between Osculation Street and Charlton Street. She was in the company of a man who resembled the man I had seen her with the night before, who stood head and shoulders taller than the prisoner. I raised my hat as I went by. This was in the Euston Road. I have no doubt whatever about the time. I heard of the murder the following afternoon, and subsequently made the statement to the police. I saw a photograph of the deceased woman at the Kentish Town Police Station, and satisfied myself that it was the same woman. Everybody knew her as Phyllis.

FREDERICK HARVEY , music vendor, gave evidence as to going with the last witness, and making a statement to the police at Kentish Town Police Station. Deceased was well known to witness by sight. He saw her in the "Rising Sun" on the night of Sunday, September 8, with a man who was a stranger, and was not the prisoner. Until he got to the station he did not know for certain that the woman who was murdered was Emily Dimmock. The inspector on duty showed him her photograph. He had last seen her on the Wednesday night just after midnight, accompanied by a biggish, wellbuilt man of about 5 ft. 10 in. Prisoner was not the man she was with.

ROBERT WOOD (prisoner, on oath). I have been in prison since October 4.

Mr. Marshall Hall. I am going to ask you one question before I go into detail. Did you kill Emily Dimmock?

Prisoner: Of course, not. I mean it it ridiculous.

Mr. Marshall Hall. I wish for a direct answer.

Prisoner. No.

Mr. Marshall Hall. I do not wish it to he said that I did not put the direct question. I put it.

Prisoner. No. I made her acquaintance in the "Rising Sun" on the Friday mentioned in my statement, which is perfectly true. I have heard the evidence of the man Crabtree. It is utterly false; in fact, it is dastardly. I hope God will destroy me this minute if I ever knew Crabtree or have ever been in his house. I live within a stone's throw of the "Rising Sun." I knew Ruby Young when she was living in Liverpool Street, but I did not know that Phyllis Dimmock lived nearly opposite. On the Friday night deceased asked me fore penny for the gramophone, and I gave her one. I paid for drinks. Later a boy offered some postcards for sale. They were of a very common, inartistic kind. I produced some more artistic cards from my pocket, and Dimmock chose the card which has been produced. She said she collected them, and asked me if I would send it to her, and write something pleasing on it to give it interest. I signed the card with the name "Alice" at her request. She said that was the name of a friend. I saw her again the following night in Great College Street, as I was on my way to the Gas Company's offices in Camden Road. On the Sunday night I did not see her, but on the Monday night I saw her for some tune in the "Rising Sun." The man Roberts was there. Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Lawrence were there also. We had drinks and were all very friendly. I did not take Dimmock to the Holbom Music Hail that night. I had a sketch book, and she amused herself looking through it She had some intelligence, and I may say that appealed to me. I did not hear Dimmock say that we bad spent the evening in the "Adam and Eve" public-house. I have never seen Dimmock in the "Pindar of Wakefield." It would be some time after 11 that I left the "Rising Sun" on the Monday night. She called my attention on the Saturday night to the fact that I had not sent the postcard. I posted it on the Sunday night, I think, in the pillar box in Museum Street, alter I had left my brother's place. On the Tuesday night I was not in the "Rising Sun" at all. I was on my way to Red Lion Street to see about some ink for a style pen when I met my brother in Theobald's Road. After we had been to the public library and to the barber's, I accompanied him home and had supper, and he afterwards came back with me to Frederick Street to see father. I did not go out again after that. On the following evening, September 11, I was in the "Eagle" public-house with Dimmock, whom I met in the Camden Road. Lambert came in, and I introduced her to him as a "merry girl friend." I only knew her a a Phyllis, and did not mention her name. I addressed the postcard to "Mrs. B. Shaw" at her dictation. A little

later Lambert went away. I cannot say exactly how deceased was dressed that night, but she looked very neat. I did not notice whether her hair was in curling pins. I left her in the "Eagle" public-house, I suppose, at about 11 o'clock, and walked straight home, arriving between half-past 11 and 12. I went into my father's room, as he had been seriously ill, and when I left him I took the clock which had been put in his room for his convenience during the day. I did not leave the house again that night. There is nothing to fix in my mind that I wound up the clock except that I did so regularly. My brother mentioned to me about the lotion, and I believe there was an odor in the room, but I took very little notice. I had been home to tea that night and went out at my usual hour, about half-past six. I went to my work the following morning a few minutes past eight o'clock, wearing the navy blue suit I had worn all the summer. All my life I have had my clothes from one tailor, and he has a record. I was not at that time wearing my great coat, which I suppose would then be folded away in a drawer. To my knowledge it was not hanging behind the door on October 4. I pot it away at the commencement of the summer, and at this time it was still warm. I had no overcoat on on the night I saw Lambert. The weather was fine and I had no need of it. I was at work all the Thursday. On the Friday something was said to me about an unfortunate woman having been killed. I had never been to 29, St. Paul's Road, in my life. When I read the announcement: "Mysterious crime. Woman found murdered at Camden Town. A terrible tragedy was discovered yesterday morning at 29, St. Paul's Road, Camden Town, the victim being a young woman of 23 years, Mrs. Shaw, who had lived at that address for some months"—it did not strike me that that was the same person and address I had sent a postcard to. I took little notice of that. When I saw the word "Phyllis" in inverted commas I was startled. That was the next day. I did not see the "sailor costume" portrait in the paper until the following Sunday. It was an enlargement from a placard and blurred, and I did not recognise it I cannot say exactly when I made up my mind to try and induce Ruby Young to say falsely that she was with me oh that night. I suppose the telegram would be sent with the object of inducing her if possible to prove an alibi for me with regard to that night. Is it not natural that I should do so? Is there not a certain amount of disgrace attached to it for a young man? I am sure it must appeal to the average man that he would like to steer clear of it. I was anxious, if possible, to conceal the fact that I had been with her on the Wednesday night and to get straight away from that association. What Ruby Young has said is quite true, that I asked her to say that she was with me from half-past six till half-past 10 that night. My father had no knowledge that on the three occasions I have spoken of I had been in public-houses in the Euston Road, and that was what I was afraid of him hearing. My father knew of Ruby Young, but I did not mention her to him very often.

He had seen us together and knew of her existence. As to Ruby Young's statement, that she broke off with me because she was jealous of my having taken a woman named "Pansy" to my father's house for a fortnight, that is absolutely untrue. The rooms were my father's. It is also untrue that I took Ruby Young to Frederick Street for the night. She has been to my room, but never stayed the night. In the state of my father's health I was anxious to spare him any publicity. I met Ruby Young on the 20th and arranged to take her to the theatre on the 23rd, and we did go to the theatre. We went for a walk and I suggested that she should say that that walk was the walk that we took on the night of September 11. She knew the neighbourhood better than I did. I went to see her on Sunday, 29th, the day after I had seen the reproduction of the postcard. When I saw the reproduction I recognised at once that my handwriting must be known and that if was impossible any longer to conceal the fact of my acquaintance with the deceased woman. On the 29th the arrangement was made with Ruby Young that she should say she was with me on this particular night under the circumstances of union she has told us. When I was arrested on October 4 I made the statement which has been put in, which is a mixture of the statement I am making now and the statement as arranged between me and Ruby Young. With the exception of the false alibi for the Wednesday that statement was true. It is true that I rang Lambert up on the 'phone and said I would come and see him that morning and that I rang him up again to say I would come in the evening, as I could not come in the morning without the permission of the proprietors. It is perfectly true that I asked him to leave the girl out of the question. That was also with the object of covering up my doings on the Wednesday night. I was anxious to cover up that Wednesday night because I had my people to consider and I had myself to consider, knowing that Dimmock was associated with the "Rising Sun," which I may say has rather a bad reputation, without wishing to hurt the feelings of the proprietor, and to be associated with witnesses in the case of that kind was very unpleasant to me. I did not say to the policeman that if it came to a pinch I should have to open out. That is most unfair; I never said that. That has hurt me more than, anything; it is hitting below the belt. It is most untrue. I have heard what my brother Charles has said stout sending the letter to the Poste restante. I was advised to go to the police, but declined to do so, and so this letter was written. It fixed the date on which I had made the admission of writing the postcard. It was not thought the letter would be of any use to the police at all, but it was written as a guarantee of good faith. As a matter of fact I have never been able to give to the police any information with regard to the actual commission of the murder. I did not know her acquaintances. I was a stranger to the people in the bar. With regard to the charred fragments of the letter, I had never seen them until they were shown me three or four days ago. I admit that the writing on them is my writing, but the whole thing seems confusion.

With regard to the faint blue lines on the paper, the only similar thing I have that I can call to mind is a tiny add eat book amongst say papers at home. It may have been a leaf from that. I have not had asocial to it since I have been Arrested. Anyhow, these fragments did not form part of a three-page letter. I have never written a three-page letter to deceased. Having carefully considered the matter I am unable to give any explanation of the charred fragments. It is a jumble. It is not a letter. The writing is in all directions. I do not know how that fragment came to be in the fireplace, where it is said to have been found by the police. The only thing I can connect it with is odd sketches and little things I was doing. As to the suggestion that it is a portion of the letter deposed to by Roberts, I never wrote to Phyllis making an appointment to meet her in the "Eagle" tavern. I never sent to this woman a letter through the post—only a postcard. I have never signed "Bert" in my life. I am always called "Bob."

(Wednesday, December 18.)

Cross-examined. Yesterday was the first time I made an admission in public that I was in Dimmock's company on September 11—I have nor spoken in public before. I did not mention it to Ruby Young nor to my brothers Charles and James, nor to Tinkham. I had nothing to fear from publicity being given to my association with her. Naturally it looked very bad that I was so late in her company the night she was killed. The "Rising Sun" postcard is on its face a letter of assignation. It is written by me signed in the name of "Alice" and addressed to the woman in the house in which she lived and where she was killed. It was hardly an appointment; there was no seriousness attached to it. Prior to September 6 I had never seen Phyllis Dimmock in my life. I did not say on Friday, September 6, to Smith, "Have you seen Phyllis?"—that is a mistake. I did not beckon to Dimmock. The postcard was lightly penciled out in the "Rising Sun" on my sketch-book, while sitting by her side, and retained by me. I had no fixed intention of posting it. I intended that I might look in by the way at the "Rising Sun." I was there about an hour on Friday. I went there about 10 p.m. and left about 12; I was in Dimmock's company practically all that time. I did not go to the "Rising Sun" on Saturday, but met Dimmock quite accidentally in Great College Street. I was in the "Eagle" with her that evening. I have been in the "Eagle" about once before. I do not use the "Pindar of Wakefield." The only occasion I recollect being there was before Christmas, 1906, with Tinkham. I have been in the "Adam and Eve," and was there for about an hour with diseased on the Saturday. I did not see her on the Sunday, but late that night I posted the "Rising Sun" postcard. I cannot recall when I actually lined it—completed it—possibly on Sunday. I posted it after I left my brother's house very late that night or the

early morning. On Monday I got to the "Rising Sun" at nine p.m. or a little later—I did not keep any appointment—it may have been a little before nine; I cannot pledge myself it was not between eight and 8.30. I paid for a drink for Lawrence and Smith. There was no discussion as to where we should spend the evening. I may have gone with Dimmock for an hour—I cannot say where we went—it was no: to the Holborn Empire. I may have called in at the "Adam and Eve." I could not say when I left the "Rasing Sun"—each idle hours are carelessly spent. On the Tuesday I was not near the "Rising Sun" at about seven. I did not write a letter to Dimmock or make an assignation for Wednesday, September 11. My father came home ill from his work on the Monday and went to the doctor on the Tuesday. Taking the charred letter it may begin" Will you"—there is "ill" and "y" and "are." I cannot say what it means, it is too much of a jumble. It could not have been the "Eagle"—I did not know the name of the "Eagle." I wee in there on September 7 with Dimmock. It is a well-known corner public-house, out I did not know the name of it on September 10. It is nearly two miles from where I live. It is near to St. Paul's Road and is opposite Camden Town Station. There are many other public-houses about there, but I do not know their names. This is not a letter of assignation written by me. It is unusual for me to make appointments. I may have mentioned my father's health to Dimmock. I did not write to her at all except the postcard. It is easy to write a story round the words in the charred letter—it is imagination purely. I never wrote to Dimmock. I wrote many things in her presence—I did not send anything to her—I wrote amusing phrases and sketches. With regard to this letter, I can make neither head nor tail of it. I do not know that I gave her anything. She had many little things that I had written, many things from my pocket. She looked through my letters and papers—say sketch-book and cards. This may have been written in her presence while sitting at the bar with her at the "Rising Sun" when I first met her or afterwards. (To the Judge.) I had never seen her before Friday, September 6, to my knowledge. I addressed this postcard to her, "Phillips darling" One did not have to be long in the "Rising Sun" to know her name; she was being spoken to across the bar. She was a well-known person there. As to celling her "darling," these things are written to please, I suppose. (To Sir C. Mathews.) On these Wednesday I left work at the usual time and went home to tea as usual, end was at the "Eagle" with deceased about nine or after nine. I met her in the Oamden Road, not far from the "Eagle," and was with her at the "Eagle" until about 11—I could not say if I left there about 10, but I think later then that Lambert was there shortly after we got there about 9.15. I introduced her to him as a friend. I may have mentioned the name of "Phyllis"—that is the only name I knew her by. I knew that Shaw was the name she passed by, but I was under the impression that Shaw was an old gentleman. When she asked me to write in a woman's name—she

spoke of an "old man," or some such remark. She looked very daintily dressed to me—I noticed nothing peculiar about her dress or that her hair was in curling pins. She may have mentioned that she had had to come out in the condition in which she then was. I do not remember my attention being drawn to her dress. I believe Mr. Lambert has given his evidence very honestly. I think it was after 11 when I left the house. Miss Raven is quite inaccurate when she says about 10. I left Dimmock in the bar of the "Eagle." Raven is wrong in saying we left together. There is a corridor that leads to the door—I believe Dimmock rose from her seat fend bade me "Good-bye" in the corridor. I do not remember if Raven served me. On leaving I went straight home. I pledge myself I left that woman in the "Eagle" public-house. I only knew where she lived from the address on the postcard. I did not know she lived close to the "Eagle." I have never been home with her to the house, 29, St. Paul's Road—I do not knew the house. I was not there on the early morning of September 12. She told me that she collected postcards; she spoke very intelligently about them; the did not mention an album; I never saw it. My overcoat was at home in a drawer—I had not started wearing an overcoat this year. When Moss told me of the murder it is very likely I said, "Yes, and what wonder when one considers with whom they go home," but I do not remember. I did not realise that it was the woman I had been with until afterwards when I saw the name "Phyllis"—that would be on Friday, September 20. I saw the picture of her in the sailor's dress on the Sunday on the placard—I knew it was a photo of the murdered girl, but I did not recognise the dress. I paid little attention to it until the reproduction of the postcards—that alarmed me a little, I admit I remember telephoning to Lambert and saying, "I can clear myself" or words to that effect—that I was all right as far as I was concerned, but that it was a serious matter, and I naturally so regarded it. I cannot tell you the dates—probably the walls of Brixton have had some effect. I admit wiring to Ruby Young—it was not unusual for me to wire to her. I saw her the same day and asked her to say what would take me away from the association with Dimmock—to cover the Monday and the Wednesday. The Monday was because I had been drinking with the girl on that day. I wanted to keep clear of the whole thing. You may put it that it was my intention to deny that I was in the woman's company on the Monday. I had to admit to Ruby Young that I knew the girl. I dared not mention much to her. I admitted to her knowing Dimmock on the Friday, Saturday and Monday and stated that Friday was the first meeting and Monday the last. Young is wrong in saying that our friendship had ceased from the middle of July. I met her on August Bank Holiday and I had been to her place after my holiday. She has seen me speaking to other girls, her own friends, and has got huffy. There was no special disagreement. I know Pansy Ruby Young visited her. She may have stayed away from me, but not for long enough for me to notice. I have known Ruby

Young for three years or more, and intimate relations have existed for the whole of that time. I have not seen so much of her this year since she moved to Earl's Court, hut the relation has been of the same character. A long time after I knew her—about a year after—I learnt the calling she was following and it vexed me very much. I liked the girl and I tolerated it. There was no question of marriage between us, except shortly after I met her; that was her idea. I gave her a ring this year—in the spring, I believe—not as an engagement ring or as a profession of intended marriage. It was a ring which belonged to my stepmother who died in the early spring. Ruby. Young wished for it and I gave it her. She may have read more into it, but I said nothing about marriage. I did not present it to her. No suggestion of marriage was made at the time. On September 23 I took Ruby Young to see "Miss Hook of Holland." I had not been with her to a place of amusement for a long time previous. I seldom went to music-halls. She accompanied me on most occasions. Up to Saturday, September 28, I was attending to my work diligently, going and leaving at my regular hours, calm and in good spirits—I was not really alarmed about the murder, it was only the association. On that morning Tinkham produced the print of the "Rising Sun" postcard and said, "You wrote this, 'Bob'—he knows my pencil work well. I do not remember what Moss said, but very likely he said, "That fellow can draw, Bob"—he was sitting at my elbow. I told my brother Charles exactly whet happened—that I had seen Dimmock on September 9. I was quite willing to go to the police, bu: it meant interfering with my business, associating me with low characters, etc., etc., and there was the effect on my father, who was ill. My brother thought it best for me to go to the police and I assented on the Sunday. I told Ruby Young of that intention, but that I was going to call at Museum Street first to decide finally. That was when I arranged the details of the alibi. The letter to the Poste-Restante was written that night by my brother and posted when I left my brother's place. My brother might have got it back, but I think he is more honourable. I was in the mire, he was helping me—not shielding me. I think Tinkham was a little alarmed about me and I gave him to understand that things would be all right; I think I said that the letter had gone to the authorities—conveyed that the information had gone to the proper quarter—that I had confessed to being the writer of the "Rising Sun" postcard. I think I saw Ruby Young on October 1, 2, and 3, and asked her to keep hex promise. I was arrested in her presence on October 4, and may have said, "Be true," meaning her to fulfil the promise as to these alibi. I dictated the statement given by the police—some of the words are not mine, but I do not quarrel with it—I read it, corrected it, and signed it. I emphatically deny that I ever said to Police-constable Brooker, "If it comes to a crisis I shall have to open out," or any such words. I am surprised at hearing that from a fellow being. It is undoubtedly false—with what object I cannot say.

Re-examined. I should have put my own name to the postcard, but it was Dimmock's wish that I should not. She asked me to put something nice upon it. I told Neil before any mention or description of the card was made that the figures of a woman and child were drawn on the back of the card. I do not think I met Mrs. Lawrenes on Monday, September 9, at the "Rising Bun"—it was Mrs. Smith—Phyllis introduced me to her. It is ridiculous to say that the charred fragment is a portion of a three-page letter. Ruby Young's statement as to the arrangement of the alibi is not accurate—she has left out a good deal of the conversation. She suggested the programme. I was fond of Ruby Young. I have no ill-feeling against her

Verdict, Not guilty.

BEFORE JUDGE RENTOUL.

(Thursday, December 12.)