Murder Most Foul – July 2018

of having seen Henry cleaning his
battledress with a chemical cleaner.
The orderly sergeant remembered
that at reveille at 6 a.m. on March
10th, Henry had not been in his bed.
The sergeant had found him in the
wash-house, washing himself and his
clothes.
Taken to the police station, Henry
had an answer for just about everything.
He had been cleaning oil stains from

his battledress in readiness for going to
Germany, where he had volunteered
to serve. He had been in his bed on
the night in question, but had awoken
before reveille and decided to begin
his ablutions early. The only time he
had been in York was on the evening of
March 9th, and then he hadn’t been to
Diamond Street, a road he didn’t know.

The shoes in question had been lost

by him, or stolen from him some time

before he had spent the evening in York.

Even when the police found pieces of

rotten wood in his shirt pocket, similar

to that of Flora’s window sill and

fragments that had been taken from her

abdomen, Henry had an answer. The

splinters had come from when he was

handling timber while on detention for

absence without leave, or from wood he

had got from a builder’s yard at home to

make a garden path for his mother.

Henry said he left the

camp at 6.30 that Monday

evening and went to the

Ouse Bridge Inn at York.

He had stayed there until

closing time, 10.30 p.m.,

consuming nine pints.

Leaving the pub feeling as “sick as a

dog,” he had gone to the bus station and

caught the 10.45 bus back to Strensall.

He had sat on the bottom deck and

could not remember the journey back

to camp. The next thing he could recall

was waking up in the camp cookhouse.

As he left the cookhouse he had seen

someone coming his way, but whoever

it was had turned and run off. He then

went to bed. A sore throat had awoken

him early the next morning, when he had

done some washing before reporting sick.

A

rrested and charged with the

murder of Miss Flora Jane Gilligan,

Philip Henry was tried at York Assizes in

June 1953, pleading “not guilty.”

The window and door from the

murder victim’s house were brought

into court, and three of the witnesses

were soldiers taken by police from the

troopship Empire Halandale, in which

they were about to sail for the Far East.

Before calling Philip Henry into the

witness-box, Mr. Geoffrey Veale QC,

defending, told the jury, “I am not going

to say anything to you now about the

case, save one thing. At the moment you

have heard half the story, you have seen

half the picture. At this stage, please

keep an open mind until you have heard

the whole story, and until you have seen

the whole picture.

“I am not going to tell you now what

my evidence is. It comes much better

from the witnesses. I would ask you to

keep an open mind, and I am sure you

will.”

Nothing that followed remotely

lived up to the promise of this speech.

Henry’s testimony was simply a

reiteration of his denials, and no

worthwhile evidence was produced by

the defence.

In addition to the footprints and

fingerprints, the prosecution had shown

that samples of Henry’s hair taken by

the police matched hairs found at 30

Diamond Street.

It was at its conclusion that the trial

deviated from the ordinary. After having

been out for an hour and three minutes,

the jury returned to say that they would

like to visit the crime scene. There

was no objection to this from either

counsel, and the judge ordered a special

bus to be provided for the journey,

emphasising that the jurors should not

be allowed to come into contact with or

speak to anyone. To ensure this he sent

two policemen with them.

The jury returned within 20 minutes

and again retired to consider their

verdict. Two and a quarter hours later

they filed back into the court to find

Philip Henry guilty, and Mr. Justice

Jones sentenced him to death.

Smoothing his hair with both hands

as he listened, Henry shouted something

indistinct. Then he turned and walked

steadily down to the cells. His appeal

was heard and dismissed on July 13th.

Three days later the MP for Stockton,

Mr. G. Chetwynd, handed the Home

Secretary a petition for Henry’s reprieve

bearing 1,100 signatures.

The Home Secretary, however,

announced that there were insufficient

grounds to justify interference with the

course of the law, and Philip Henry was

duly executed at Leeds Prison on July

30th, 1953.

Why he carried his victim

upstairs to throw her from the

window remains a mystery. But did

he do that? Was the investigators’

scenario wrong? Did Flora run

naked from Henry after he attacked

her downstairs? Did she make for

her bedroom, crazed with terror,

and jump from the window? That’s

an alternative theory, and more

plausible, you may think, than that

of the police.

Soldier killer – Henry was tracked

down before he had a chance to

clean the blood off his clothes

When all

the soldiers’

fingerprints were

processed one set

matched those on

the brandy bottle

A close-up of the

windowsill showing the

decaying rotten wood

Above, an interior view of the

kitchen showing a sheet in the linen

basket on which a clear footprint

was found. Charred material can

be seen on the floor. Right, Flora’s

bedroom from the doorway, showing

the curtained window