General Chat

Thought I'd post a murder mystery to occupy myself.

The Butler did it lol ...........

in the library

In the library [looking at genealogy books] lol

as long as lemon isn't the victim :o) bryan.

And I had it chopped off!

By a stuffed animal

(Sorry about the pragraphs, pasting it in messed it up) Post Office Killer In the year 1900 there stood an ordinary Post Office in Conway Street, Birkenhead, but on the afternoon of September 9 it was destined to become the scene of a shocking and most extraordinary crime. Just after ten o’clock on that Sunday morning, the last few telegraph clerks left the Post Office after finishing their first shift of the day. They locked the front door and bid each other good bye. One of the clerks walked around to the side of the building in Burlington Street and knocked on the door to the sorting room. He waited to be let in to hand over the keys to the lone watchman inside. After a moment or two he was greeted by fifty-six year old George Fell, a man of small stature, who after slowly heaving the heavy door open, gently took the keys from the clerk. After a brief chat through the doorway Mr. Fell returned to his room to carry on with his work and to read his newspaper. A few short hours later, an incident took place which would be the talk of the town for months. For reasons that remain unknown, the elderly watchman once again unlocked the door to the sorting office. As he did so somebody roughly pushed him aside and locked the door, leaving Mr. Fell confused as to what was going on. Suddenly the intruder assaulted him with such violence that blood was sent splattering all over the walls of the hallway. The terrified postal worker turned and fled for his very life. Blood poured down his face as he hastily made his way to the main sorting room and then through the doors to the front office. Despite being struck once more, Fell somehow managed to evade his attacker, and fled upstairs to the telegraph office, panting heavily as he did so. Fearing the end was near, Mr. Fell staggered into the postmaster’s private room Whilst keeping an unsteady hand pressed against the door he frantically looked around for something with which to defend himself. Noticing a shovel resting in a coal box George reached for it with his free bloody hand. He could hear footsteps rapidly ascending the stairs and braced himself. Those heart stopping few seconds seemed like an eternity, and with each step, his attacker drew nearer and nearer. As George stood shaking, he watched as the intruder forced his way through the doorway wielding an iron bar.Mr. Fell staggered backwards, urgently trying to fend off the attacker with the shovel. This desperate last act proved futile and the heartless trespasser grabbed a poker from the fireplace and proceeded to give the old man several cruel blows to the head, causing blood to splash around the room.When his evil deed was done, the murderer calmly took a handkerchief from the dead man’s pocket and wiped his hands clean of any incriminating evidence, before throwing it into the postmaster’s lavatory. Before making his way down to the sorting room, the warped butcher placed a sorting bag over Mr. Fell’s profusely bleeding head, Once in the sorting room he took out a saw and dabbed it with paraffin oil; a substance known to be useful in the drilling of metal. He then proceeded to hack off the side of the inadequately built safe, then used a pair of postal tongs to prise it open. That done, the thief scooped out all of the forty-four registered letters and commenced to rummage though them. Some contained jewellery but this was not what the scoundrel had come for. He had come for cash, and from the safe he stole a total of one hundred and forty-two pounds, seventeen shillings and eight pence.After shoving the money into his pockets, he quickly pulled on George Fell’s official Post Office coat which was hanging in the room, and used it as a disguiseAfter making sure the last of the money was deep inside his pockets, the murderer calmly made his way through the blood splattered hallway and out into Burlington Street, closing the door as he left. Later that day, Frank Donovan, a clerk at the Post Office, arrived to start his five o’clock shift. As usual, he walked into Burlington Street with the intention of collecting the keys from Mr. Fell. He gave a knock at the door and waited. Receiving no answer, Mr. Donovan knocked harder and shouted, presuming the elderly watchman had fallen asleep. With still no response, Donovan shouted for a fellow clerk, Mr. Morrissey, who was waiting for him to return with the keys.Realising that something must be wrong, Frank and his colleague stepped back, planning to force the door open with their shoulders. As they ran towards the door they found that it was in fact unlocked and they stumbled into the hallway. Steadying themselves Morrissey and Donovan looked around, then gasped in horror as their horrid surroundings made it immediately apparent that they where in the middle of a crime scene. They hurriedly worked their way into the sorting office where they found a scene reminiscent of an abattoir with a large pool of clotted blood upon the floor and flecks of the same on the walls. Finding no sign of George Fell, they decided to find a policeman and were fortunate enough to encounter PC Tingey just as he was passing the building. After listening to the workers’ account, the officer summoned Detective Inspector Parker and Detective Hall, who happened to be working in the area. The five men commenced their search of the building, not knowing what gruesome discovery awaited them.After following the trail of blood splashed across the floor and walls of the hallway,the sorting office and the front office, they arrived at the staircase which led up the first floor telegraph office. Everywhere they looked they saw a sickening amount of blood; across the walls, on the postbags, and on the floor. On looking up, the group saw tiny droplets of blood dripping from the mail hooks. This was a truly vicious attack.With still no sign of the old watchman, the party headed up stairs. One of the men volunteered to turn the handle to the Postmaster’s private office and proceeded to push the door open. The men were confronted with a macabre scene that would haunt them for many nights to come. On the rug in front of the blackened fireplace lay the bruised and battered body of George Fell, his face hidden by a postal sack. Sickened and distressed, the men entered the murder room. One of the officers walked towards the huddled body and pulled the sticky mailbag from Mr. Fell’s disfigured head.The group observed that the face had been completely battered in; an eye socket was protruding from its socket and the whole upper body was covered in blood and brain tissue. Alongside rested a blood-spattered poker matted with hair, and a dented coal shovel that the group assumed must have been used by the deceased in self defence, was next to it.More evidence of the slaughter was found in other parts of the room. The broken and empty safe lay awkwardly on the desk, which featured several bloody handprints, as did the office door, and a number of pieces of jewellery lay scattered about. A bent iron bar was also found close by and a blood-stained handkerchief was discovered in the toilet.The men ran out of the Post Office calling urgently for help. Soon Chief Inspector Parker, Chief Constable Davies and other members of the detective team arrived,along with the Postmaster Joseph Wilson. All were shocked to discover what had taken place. The area was soon cleared, but by six o’clock a large crowd had gathered to find out if the rumours of a murder were true. A police surgeon examined the body and concluded that the Mr. Fell must have been attacked at about two o’clock. This was the quietest time of the day and was also George Fell’s lunch hour. However, further investigations revealed that this was not the case since George’s uneaten packed lunch was found in a cupboard. This suggested that the old man must have been killed sometime earlier, probably at one

Cream?

blood upon the floor and flecks of the same on the walls. Finding no sign of George Fell, they decided to find a policeman and were fortunate enough to encounter PC Tingey just as he was passing the building. After listening to the workers’ account, the officer summoned Detective Inspector Parker and Detective Hall, who happened to be working in the area. The five men commenced their search of the building, not knowing what gruesome discovery awaited them. After following the trail of blood splashed across the floor and walls of the hallway, the sorting office and the front office, they arrived at the staircase which led up the first floor telegraph office. Everywhere they looked they saw a sickening amount of blood; across the walls, on the postbags, and on the floor. On looking up, the group saw tiny droplets of blood dripping from the mail hooks. This was a truly vicious attack.With still no sign of the old watchman, the party headed up stairs. One of the men volunteered to turn the handle to the Postmaster’s private office and proceeded to push the door open. The men were confronted with a macabre scene that would haunt them for many nights to come. On the rug in front of the blackened fireplace lay the bruised and battered body of George Fell, his face hidden by a postal sack. Sickened and distressed, the men entered the murder room. One of the officers walked towards the huddled body and pulled the sticky mailbag from Mr. Fell’s disfigured head. The group observed that the face had been completely battered in; an eye socket was protruding from its socket and the whole upper body was covered in blood and brain tissue. Alongside rested a blood-spattered poker matted with hair, and a dented coal shovel that the group assumed must have been used by the deceased in self defence, was next to it. More evidence of the slaughter was found in other parts of the room. The broken and empty safe lay awkwardly on the desk, which featured several bloody handprints, as did the office door, and a number of pieces of jewellery lay scattered about. A bent iron bar was also found close by and a blood-stained handkerchief was discovered in the toilet. The men ran out of the Post Office calling urgently for help. Soon Chief Inspector Parker, Chief Constable Davies and other members of the detective team arrived,along with the Postmaster Joseph Wilson. All were shocked to discover what had taken place. The area was soon cleared, but by six o’clock a large crowd had gathered to find out if the rumours of a murder were true. A police surgeon examined the body and concluded that the Mr. Fell must have been attacked at about two o’clock. This was the quietest time of the day and was also George Fell’s lunch hour. However, further investigations revealed that this was not the case since George’s uneaten packed lunch was found in a cupboard. This suggested that the old man must have been killed sometime earlier, probably at one of the busiest times of the day;a time when Conway Street and the surrounding area would have been full of people and yet, no one saw a thing. Postmaster Wilson could offer no explanation as to how such a crime could have been committed without anybody noticing. Some members of staff wondered whether the killer had inside information; whether he had been a previous or even a current employee of the Post Office. Alas, they were never to know, as the murderer was never found. Attempts to locate the stolen notes by using their serial numbers proved useless as the thief was intelligent enough to know that it would almost certainly lead to his death if they were ever spent. The case continues to baffle criminologists to this day and the answer to the riddle of who killed George Fell, is yet to be discovered.

Is all in the last sentence - nobody Killed George - he fell!

M fiver? Am I due a sum of money which I have not recieved?

Oh her. I know who you mean. Senile Dementia or what. By the way, I'M FROM BIRKENHEAD. Cost me almost a fiver to get through the tunnel and back. Not worth it :-(