Officers arrived at the scene shortly after 8 AM that morning, and when they knocked on the door of the property on Botley Drive in Havant, Hampshire, they were met by 26-year-old Shaye Groves, who was smoking a cigarette and wearing a bright pink dressing gown…
There is a saying that “a man’s home is his castle” — it is supposed to be a sanctuary, a place of safety and security. Unfortunately for many, anti-social behaviour can make them feel uncomfortable and on edge in their own homes. When problems like these arise, it can take weeks for the police to resolve them, and only after the damage has been done. Some try a different approach and directly confront the people responsible, but they could never imagine that it might cost them their life...
Strong gales were sweeping across much of the United Kingdom on the night of Sunday, January 24th, 1993. Temperatures dipped below freezing, as most of the country found relief in the warmth and comfort of their homes. On the quiet estate of Birch Hill in Bracknell, Berkshire, seven-year-old Stacey Queripel was sent to bed early by her mother. She had no plans to go to sleep. Instead, Stacey put on a tracksuit over her pyjamas, packed a small bag and then set off into the blustery darkness...
After making the 50-mile journey to the cottage in the Somerset village of Loxton, Peter found Noreen reclining on a sofa in the sitting room. When he asked her what had happened, she began rambling incoherently for almost 45 minutes. Eventually, Noreen told him that she had seen an evil look in Marie’s eyes, and said, “There was one moment when the look became so strong and the evil in the eye so strong that I plucked them out”. Peter was stunned and asked if Marie was dead; Noreen replied, “It is not Marie that is dead. It is the evil that was in her”...
As night fell, Roy Lightfoot returned home from work. He closed the door behind him and anticipated hearing the delicate sound of the dog's paws on the floor as Tessa came to greet him. But instead, the home was eerily silent. Roy called out to Margaret but received no response. The property was evidently empty…
In the early 80s, July 19th, 1982, to be exact, four-year-old Rhodene Cunningham and her grandmother Mavis made their way to Kingsgate Estate in Dalston after spending the weekend together. Rhodene’s father, Keith, was in Spain visiting his brother, international and Real Madrid footballer Laurie Cunningham. Rhodene was looking forward to being reunited with her mother, Norma Richards, and her older sisters, nine-year-old Samantha, and seven-year-old Syretta. But, when she arrived at her maisonette with her grandmother, they found that the front door was already ajar...
It was a typically warm mid-summer afternoon in 1966. However, shortly after 3 PM, the sound of gunshots rang out on a residential street in Shepherd’s Bush, West London…
Shrill sirens could be heard as firefighters jumped from their trucks to control the flames emanating from the imposing concrete structure. Many of the doors and windows had been boarded up with plywood in a futile attempt to dissuade trespassers. It was an arduous task for the emergency crew to remove the boards before they could gain entry and try to extinguish the growing blaze. After the flames were put out, to their surprise, firefighters discovered the badly-burned body of what appeared to be a young woman. An investigation was launched which would take the police into the grim underworld of the city’s disenfranchised and dispossessed…
Sergeant Jill Evans is a small-town cop in Wales with an impressive record in her job, and a less-than-impressive record in her love life. After three engagements, two divorces and one affair, she’s beginning to worry that love is only true in fairy tales. That is until she meets: Dean. He’s a wealthy beauty entrepreneur with his own range of toiletries. Girl meets boy. Boy meets girl. They kiss and fall in love. Roll credits. But that would be boring, wouldn’t it? Instead, this is a love story like no other. It’s all going so well for Jill and Dean, until Halloween night, when Dean disappears. And Sgt. Jill is left to pick up the pieces
She rolled her car to a stop and rushed over to attend to the man lying on the verge. Elizabeth discovered his name was Malcolm Webster, and the fireball not far from where they were now standing was his car engulfed in flames. Elizabeth asked if there was anybody else inside the vehicle. Webster replied, “No,” before later correcting himself, and saying, “Yes, my wife”...
Simon slowly walked through the property, calling for his friend, before he entered the spare room. Adrian was lying on the bed. It was evident he was dead and had been for some time. Simon instinctively knew that someone else was involved. A bottle of whiskey was on the table, and Simon knew his best friend did not drink whiskey…
It had been a particularly bitter winter, and the ice in the canal was just beginning to thaw. As the men strolled by the waterway, they spotted something floating in the murky canal. It appeared to be bobbing up and down with the flow of the water, but it was not gathering any traction. The men got closer to inspect the unfamiliar object. They could see that it was something wrapped up inside a piece of carpet — there appeared to be fluid leaking from it. The three managed to pull the object over to the bank of the canal, and were horrified to see a human foot protruding from the end of the carpet…