Emergency responders were relieved to find there were no casualties. The car had been abandoned. Puzzlingly, the vehicle was traced back to a mother who had left Inverness with her three-year-old son hours earlier. What initially seemed to be a burnt-out vehicle left after a joyride turned out to be so much more. It remained a mystery for over four decades…
It was cold and damp on the banks of Loch Lomond on the morning of December 6th 1999. Specialist officers from an underwater search unit of Central Scotland Police were preparing to take part in a training exercise in the highland lake northwest of Glasgow. Loch Lomond is the largest lake by surface area in Great Britain, spanning 22 miles between Central Scotland and the Highlands. The deep water at Rowardennan Pier reflected the sloping green hills surrounding the lake, but as divers went beneath the surface, they made a horrifying discovery…
It was early on a warm Sunday morning, and very few cars were on the A22 road between Eastbourne and London. A motorcyclist pulled in on the grassy verge and ventured a few yards behind the tree line of Ashdown Forest. The sun shone down between the tall oak trees, casting shadows on the leafy ground. Something stood out amidst the earthy tones of the undergrowth. As the motorcyclist walked closer to the blue fabric that was poking out of the soil, he was overwhelmed by a foul smell...
Ellie and her partner Marcus walked around to the large conservatory at the back of the house. Through the glass doors, they could see the silhouettes of two familiar figures sitting in their favourite armchairs, although something did not seem right with Carol and Stephen Baxter…
The Burton Mail published the article in March 1990. A local couple had the good fortune of winning a Vauxhall Astra with two years' worth of free petrol. The accompanying picture is fuzzy. Sandra and Ryan James pose almost formally and rigidly while standing behind the vehicle with the garage owner poised to hand over the keys. The next time the couple were mentioned in the newspaper, it would not be for such joyous reasons…
The officer called out to identify himself, but there was no response from behind the closed door. He tried to open it but was met by resistance. After managing to wedge the bedroom door a few inches, PC Francis saw the body of an elderly man on the floor. Blood and brain matter were pooling around his head. As PC Francis radioed for support and the London Ambulance Service, he heard a voice say, “You’re too late. He’s been dead for an hour”...
Hazel was safety conscious, but the fact that she was not answering the door made George concerned that something had happened to her, so he alerted the police. When officers gained entry to the property, they found a pile of boxes blocking a cupboard under the stairs. Faint cries pleading for help were coming from inside. The reality of what had happened to Hazel was far beyond what George could have ever imagined…
There is a timeless saying that bad things happen in threes. Some believe the superstition originates from the wartime phrase ‘Three on a match’ —
A man in his mid-sixties wearing a light-coloured casual jacket and dark trousers caught the couple’s attention. Concerningly, he was clenching a piece of wood in his hand. Stephen slammed the brakes and got out of the vehicle. He realised another man was lying horizontally on the pavement, being struck about the head repeatedly with the length of wood. Blood was pooling on the path surrounding the injured man. Stephen instinctively yelled out, telling the assailant to stop. The attacker wrapped the wood in a plastic bag and turned to walk away. As he left the scene, he hollered back to the man he had just attacked: “You’ll not fucking do that again”...
Something caught Thomas’ attention at the bottom of a set of stone stairs known to locals as the ABC steps. Twenty-six stone platforms jutted out from the steeply sloping hill towards the canal towpath, a stone for each letter of the alphabet. A young girl was curled up at the bottom of the stairs, her legs folded beneath her as if she were crying. Thomas wondered if she was upset or had fallen, but the reality was far worse...
From the path, that quiet spot on Redcar Beach in North Yorkshire was concealed by sand dunes. As the tide was going out on the crisp morning of April 30th 1977, the body of a man was held in place by the saturated sand. Eventually, hours after the sun had come up, he was found. There were no apparent signs that he had been injured, and bystanders wondered what happened…
Tony Wesson was looking forward to spending time with his fiancée, Suzanne.