Evening Star Newspaper, December 9, 1934, Page 97

Sir Bernard Spilsbury, England's “Medical Sherlock Holmes.” BY MILTON BRONNER. LONDON, December 8, 1934. HE inhabitants of the quiet little Eng- lish city of Portslade were in a stew of excitement, that November morn- ing in 1933. A murder had been committed in their town, and since the town was English, and a sleepy Jittle place to boot, this was an exceedingly unusual occurrence. It had everybody talking. By American standards, there was nothing especially striking about the crime. Just an aged shopkeeper struck down by some thug who had rifled the cash register and made his get-away. The shop was a poor one, the vic- tim was without prominence and the crime had been seen by no one. But Portslade—being, as was said, English and quiet—wasn’t used even to commonplace murders. So Portslade was all excited and honest citizens were beginning to wonder audi- bly if any man was safe nowadays. The victim was an old man named Joseph Bedford. He had lived in Portslade for half & century and he had been 30 years old when he came there. Nobody knew much about him; there was a rumor that he had proposed marriage to a childhood sweetheart years ago, in the heyday of Queen Victoria’s reign, and had been rejected; nobody knew for sure and nobody cared much. He kept a little shop—8 Tegular old curiosity shop, such as Dickens described in his famous novel of that name— where he sold po's and pans and assorted Crime comes to the sleepy little English town of Portslade---but so does Sir Bernard Spilsbury, the "medical Sherlock Holmes”---and the hangman gets some work bric-a-brac, and he lived by him- self in a tiny bed room over the store. His wants had been few angd his habits had been frugal, so Joseph Bedford had saved =& good deal of money. He used to keep it all stowed away in his house—until, at last, some one managed to persuade him that this was foolish. Then he de- posited the equivalent of $15,000 in a bank. Anyway, old Joseph Bedford had been killed. The crime was discovered about 9 o'clock on the evening of November 13, when a bobby who was making his rounds chanced to notice that some of the old man's stock of odds and ends was still standing on the stands in front of the shop. The bobby knew that the old man usually took his stuff inside pretty early, closed up and went to bed; so he went up to the door and tried the handle, found it locked, and then peered through the glass into the shop, flashing a light in as he did. The policeman was astounded to see Joseph Bedford coming feebly down the stairs at the back of his shop, blood streaming down his face. As the policeman watched, the 80-year- old man toppled to the floor and lay still. Forcing the door in, the policeman hurried to his side. The old man was dead. At first it looked simple. Old Bedford— feeble with years, half blind and almost deat —had probably stumbled and received a shock which, at his age, had killed him. Then, however, it developed that although every door and window in the place had been securely fastened, all the drawers and cash boxes had been forced open and rifled. A few copper farthings—worth half a cent each in American money—lay scattered about on the floor. Hidden in a crevice in the wall was the equivalent of $200 in bills. So the Portslade police called in Scotland Yard. The Scotland Yard men found traces of blood on the floor and on the stairway. A button, which might have been pulled or fallen from some one's overcoat, lay nearby. But they had nothing to prove that Joseph Bedford had been murdered. Enter, at this point, Sir-Bernard Spilsbury. OW Sir Bernard Spilsbury, who looks like & studious member of Parliament or an amiable frequenter of garden parties, is prob- ably the greatest nemesis to murderers in all England. His official title is pathologist to the home office, and Scotland Yard sum- mons him whenever there is any kind of medical mystery in connection with a crime or a supposed crime, Working always with quiet, scientific pre- cision, Sir Bernard has sent many and many a murderer to the gallows. He first attracted The *“old curiosity shop” where Joseph Bedford was murdered by two young sl keld-un men. “The police- man was astound- ed to see Joseph Bedford coming feebly down the stairs, blood streaming down his face. As the policeman watched, the old man toppled to the floor.” attention to himself before the war when, as & junior pathologist, he got the evidence which resulted in the arrest and conviction of the notorious Dr. Crippen. Since then he has made a fine art of the study of criminal pathology. He is, in fact, a sort of medical Sherlock Holmes. When the police have a body exhumed he is there. When the coroner holds an inquest 8ir Bernard is there. Now the British have a way of getting prac- tically sll of the evidence they need, in a mur- der case, before making an arrest. That they are 80 successful in this is at least partly duve to Sir Bernard. His years of experience, coupled with his grim, uncanny ability to reconstruct a tragedy after studious examination of the victim’s body, have made him as relentless & bloodhound as the law ever put on a slayer's trail. S0 much for Sir Bernard's background. He was called to Portslade the day after the tragedy was discovered; and his coming sealed the doom of two unsuspecting young men who had slept that night, presumably, as soundly as uncaught murderers ever do sleep. Sir Bernard Spilsbury then went to Port- slade and made a thorough examination ef Joseph Bedford’'s wasted old body. He soon announced that death had been caused, not by a fall, but by a series of blows on the skull. At this point sheer chance stepped in %o help the manhunt. ) Six miles west of Portslade is the larger town of Worthing, and a week or so after the murder the Worthing police arrested two young men on the vague charge of loitering. These men gave their names as Frederick Parker, 21, and Albert Probert, 26. b These men had come to Worthing, seemingly, & day or two after the murder. They had gone to a shop, where each man bought a new suit, shirt, tie and collar, changing clothes in the shop and taking the old clothes away with them when they left. Search of their lodgings revealed a suit case containing, besides the old clothing, an auto- matic pistol and a book of sweepstakes tickets, with counterfoils of those which had been sold. One bore the name of a buyer in Portslade. Furthermore, there was a spot on the coat of Probert’s discarded suit which looked like bloodstain. ACK to Portslade shifted the investigation. A shopkeeper was found who said the two young men had come into his store on the day of the murder and had tried to sell him a sweepstakes ticket. Another man testified to having seen them in the vicinity of Bed- ford’'s shop. The Worthing police prisoners questions. Pmhmally Parker down and said: “We knocked out an old man in Portslade. We took money from the till. We walked in and spoke to the old man. I turned and locked the door. No one was passing, and I brought a pistol into play just to scare him—the gun wasn't loaded. I held him and the other chap went around and knocked him out.” He added that the job wasn't worth doing’ as they had only got five pounds (about $25 at par) out of it; and he asked, “How is the old man?” The old man, he was informed, was dead. Parker and Probert were held for murder. Parker then got panicky, and talked some more. He said that he had been reluctant $o take part in the job, and that he had refused began asking the broke Continued on Fourteenth Page