The blood was discovered early in the morning on Fonthill Road, in a parking bay on the corner of the junction with Moray Road.
Council street cleaners arrived to spray the tarmac clean after police were seen dusting for fingerprints and checking for evidence in surrounding bins.Some Police ate buns and breakfasted at that early hour.Others shared fags thought to be woodbines
A woman resident who works for qui mens health magazine , who did not want to be named, told the Gazette: “We didn’t hear one single thing. I’ve just asked my neighbours and the man downstairs and they didn’t either. I had my windows open all night.
“If there is trouble in the pub across the road, I hear it, but last night there was absolutely nothing. I just opened my blinds in the morning, saw all the police and thought: ‘what’s going on?’”
A police spokesman said: “Police were called at 7.30am to reports of blood found on the pavement.
“An area search and local doors were knocked on by police to find out what happened. No victim or suspect was found.
“Local hospitals were also called. Officers are investigating further.”This follows similar appearances in 1843, 1936 and 1970.Then chief copper Milt Hardiman arrived but had to leave quickly for something else that had arisen.
Officers had made a macabre discovery an hour after and they were being alerted to concerns about a resident’s welfare shortly after midday.
A letter had been found: ’What’s the story behind the rendering of the Royal Family on a wall on Stoke Newington Church Street? Most of the picture has been covered with black paint, but you can still see the monarchy waving from a balcony in the middle…’ I don't know what the picture is about, but I know about the black paint. Someone I know used to live in that building.They were disappeared Apparently a team from Hackney council started painting over it when the landlord came out screaming and telling them to stop. It was another example of an over-zealous anti-graffiti team, working on a privately owned building..
but then...... .The body is that of 65-year-old Maxwell Barnes also known as Debouche, who lived alone with a woman in the first-floor flat in Empire courtDetectives from the serious crime and homicide unit are investigating, with the death currently being treated as suspicious.
Pathologists have so far been unable to determine the cause of death partly due to the badly decomposed state of the body, with a post mortem at St Pancras Mortuary on Tuesday proving inconclusive, but further tests are being carried out.
Neighbours described seeing the body being removed and a large police presence at the property for most of Monday, including forensics officers in white boiler suits.
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Barton le Roche, 53, a househusband/housewife who has lived in the next door house his/ her whole life, said: “It’s very sad but we don’t know the circumstances of what happened.
We were neighbours, but we didn’t really know the person.He went out late every night and went somewhere only ever coming back very early in the day the next day" 
Another neighbour Amberley Roth said: “I know the person who lives in there to say hello to, but that’s it really. I don’t have a clue what’s happened but it’s very sad.” Amberley Roth was strangely enough an American from Rothwell.
The flat is managed by the Bradwell estates. Randolph Hylock managing director, said: “We dont know, We just dont know".
A spokesman for the Metropolitan Police said: “Next of kin have been informed.”
No arrests have been made. Anyone with information should not call the incident room as things are under control according to chief copper and Beatles fanatic Milt Hardiman
"Im from, from, the Hee Hee part of the Park . I know the people round here and most are scum .When I say scum i mean real scum. I wont mince my words. I was at that concert all those years ago. Girls screaming standing on seats. I'm sitting down waiting for music. I remember it well,except the music, at this concert with my friend Susan,we were 15 yrs old then,we was lucky to be near speakers on the balcony so we could hear ok,the screeming was deafening,we was in the second performance of the night as we got off the train and toward the astoria there was girls crying and screeming, we will never forget this day as long as i live,i can say i saw the beatles ! Susan Abaeder who was with Hardiman at the Beatles concert is famous for having been one of the Residents of a house at 69 Spenser Grove, Stoke Newington, who were forced to flee by several ghosts and a poltergeist after a series of fires in 1969. The house has since been demolished.Another neighbour
John G.Julian ex keeper of Islington archives pictured above said "I keep reading about the dodgy elements that roam the actual park, who are they, are they real? But I'm more interested in the area itself. Where do you eat? What do you do? When is the best time/season to shop? How about pubs and dance venues?Milt Hardiman told him
"The Faltering Fullback is one of the best pubs in London and the happening bagel bakery opposite the station is phenomenal."
this ghostly sign was found nearby and Milt Hardiman said we are investigating whoever did this as its a likeness very alike to the geezer who got snuffed.There is a link .Abraham Sherlock a local writer said: “I have always been in love with the early 19th century and the idea of basing a book around all that is happening on this case and the other one with the background in a foggy London is very appealing.”
My book will follow young slag Roberta Mount who attends a demonstration on mesmerism in the hope of easing her nymphomia.Little do people know but up Fonthill Road was a very famous Mesmerist called Fraser.
It is there that she becomes involved with a man-about-town and hedonist, haunted by a story of reincarnation involving his father who mysteriously reappeared when he was fifty nine.
It draws Mount into London’s dark underworld where she becomes embroiled in a race against time.
the protagonist in the novel finds out, the opium palaces used to treat mental illnesses. Hardiman who was listening said to the writer.
"That this was not the time or place to think of a book as murder has been done sir!!!!!! The summer of 1911 proved scorchingly hot and many died of the heat , Was the death caused by the heat, is it returning I can feel it, we called it the 'English Cholera. We of the police then". The case continues.
Keep coming back here.
Milt Hardiman by the way was wearing a nice Marks and Spencer Covert Coat and black shiney brogues. Hes creating a blog on the case to keep people informed and hoping they click the ads. one week later,more news below
Petra blandstone who believed life is determined by mother nature was killed while walking in the Park.
Aged 59, she was caught in a freak thunderstorm after leaving the her home in Queens drive.
Rescuers originally believed the woman builder - who researched powers beyond human control - had drowned after staggering into the boating lake.
But a post mortem found the builder died from electric shock, which pathologists believe came from a bolt of lightening.
She was last seen at home by her partner Charlie Melly 23, last Monday after his usual daily routine of Knights templar research before preparing his rolls for work.
Charlie was aware of the violent storm between 4.30 and 5.30pm, but didn’t panic when she failed to come home for dinner , he had prepared a superb fish mornay sauce .
Later that night he raised the alarm and a full scale search was launched by the Finsbury park police.
Another finsbury parkian has died as well . Lanfred Dann. His body was found at 5.30am the next day by a walker on burnham on crouch beach after the death of petra blandstone , with no sign of his money.HE was carrying his wages from the local gun making factory in Finsbury Park and no one knows why he was in the crouch.
The Melly man today admitted he was still coming to terms with the cruel irony of his
builder lover being killed by lightening but said "hey life goes on man".
Self styled" REV em up "Reverend Ray Rogers said that he was holding a special service at the Rainbow Rock church Finsbury Park.
.
The Rev em up Rev said 'You try and think why , there was no reported lightening that night, it was just very hot".He continued to say.
'For me that copper Hardiman is an extraordinary man - he was called in and has been up to Burnham to check out the other murder.
The top copper said "this was such an unusual way to snuff it, I just couldn’t believe it. I’m numbfounded as there were no reported lightening anywhere.
I believe in the bigger picture - People in Finsbury park are scum but we are paid to protect them, I suppose you could say there is a irony in the way I do my best for them." Mary Mapp who has dining rooms near Finsbury park said."
Has anyone ever seen a ghost? What happened?
Milt Hardiman answered her and said.
"I'm pretty sane, and I think I did see one. Years ago I'd just moved to Highgate Woods , ironically to a house I was renting from a former vicar! I'd been there a week or so and I was unpacking a bag or some such on my bed upstairs. It was the middle of the afternoon, I was very sober, although I have been accused of drinking on duty ,and I've never believed in ghosts.. At the top of the stairs was an elderly gentleman. His lips never moved but I heard a voice inside my head saying, "This is how I died". At which point he promptly fell down the stairs. Scared? I've never been as terrified in all my life and ran out of the place to the nearest pub for a drink. After that I never saw or heard anything again. Part of me thinks it was in my head, but it was so real and unexpected... I'd love to hear if anyone has had a similar experience - especially any doubters, like me.Mary Mapp whose dining rooms is really a glorified caff said . "The filth believe in ghosts more than anyone else. I wonder why."
"You shut yer fucking gob . Ill tell yer a real fockin story ." Said Milt . "Another fucking house I lived in was a basement flat in Woodstock Road, Finsbury Park and although old felt very welcoming. I’ll describe the layout; Enter front door into narrow hallway, first door right main bedroom, continue hallway second door right bathroom/toilet, straight ahead living room and open plan kitchen. Ok so we’d been there, me and this slag I was looking after, about a week together when we started to notice that directly above the toilet there was an airing cupboard, this door would constantly be open even though the catch worked perfectly well.
There was no breeze coming out or in but it would always be open. My slag girlfriend actually watched it open while in the bath once! Freaky but no problem, we then started to have keys go missing, money, purses, tools, stupid small things you’d put down then they’d be gone!!
We asked her aunt (the previous occupier) about this and she said “oh weird things happen in that place all the time, take no notice and you’ll forget about it”. So we decided to ignore these silly things but one night my girl and daughter where staying with her Father for the weekend so i was alone, i borrowed one of my Mum’s dogs to keep me company for the night, an 8 year old Rottweiler called Ella who decided to spend the whole night nervously shaking by the back door and waking me throughout the night with loud barks, this was completely out of character for her as although she was a soppy old thing she had never acted like this.
Anyway I told my Mum and Gran about this in the morning and they decided to come to the house to check it out. Nan was very spiritual and often picked up on things. I’ll never forget her standing in the kitchen of that place and in the time it took to boil a kettle she said, “I don’t think you should stay here anymore and you’re welcome to come home with me now!” I declined as my girl was on route home and I said I’d keep it in mind.
Later my girls returned and we visited my Mum’s for dinner, she then drove us back to the house and my brother helped bring the babies buggy in and put it in the bedroom, in the room we kept a jar of sweets and my brother and I helped ourselves to a handful each and he left, I shut the front door walked past the bedroom, all was well in the house and I joined the girls in the living room.
About half an hour later I went to put the baby in her crib and on entering the room I couldn’t believe my eyes, the cupboard was open with clothes strewn everywhere, the bed was tipped up and the crib was on it’s side, the room looked like someone had gone crazy in it and i immediately checked the windows for an intruder. I called my girlfriend in and she asked why I had done this, I explained what I’d found and we just stood in silence.
I started clearing up and this feeling came over me as if someone was laughing at me, my girlfriend also felt the same. We put it out of our minds and got ready for bed, the baby was sound asleep and all felt calm. The timing of this was arriving home 10pm, room trashed 10.30/35pm going to bed 11.30pm. At 1.30am I was woken by the baby cooing in her crib, I looked in at her and she was looking straight passed me as her attention seemed to be engaged elsewhere.
I felt extremely cold to the point of freezing, I turned to my girlfriend who was sound asleep and said her name quietly in her ear to wake her, she didn’t stir and by the milli-second I began to be filled with fear and dread I whispered to her twice more and on the second whisper of her name a voice clear as a bell repeated her name into my ear! The baby then screamed and I can tell you I woke her up in an instant we gathered some belonging and left for my Mum’s house by foot. We stayed at my Mum’s over night and the next day we returned after deciding we could take no more to collect our things, when we got there the place was ransacked, bed upside down, cupboard tipped over contents of the kitchen cupboards all over the place, you name it it was everywhere. I spoke to the aunt again after moving out and she said it had happened in the past but once you got used to it it would stop, I obviously thanked her for not mentioning this before we moved in.
Subsequently the house keys where returned to the local council. I later found out that 2 tenants had moved out within weeks of moving in and that to my knowledge the property is to this day unhabited and boarded up. Also in the flat above lived a young girl with her daughter and her ex killed her sometime after we’d left in a very macbre and evil manner. Makes you wonder doesn’t it!!!
At this Brian Malone ex boxer and ex regular at the Robey said.
About twenty years ago my wife, our young daughter and I went to stay in a cottage in the west of Donegal, Ireland owned by the aunt of a friend of ours from college days,
Catherine. It was in a beautiful location near the sea and was obviously originally built as a thatched cottage as it had that typical look, although the roof had been changed to tiles over the years. Catherine told us there were stories told locally that back in the 1920s during the Irish War of Independence that people had been executed in the outhouse which was only a few yards from the cottage itself. We found this a little creepy given the remoteness of the location, but it didn’t really bother us very much and certainly didn’t influence our decision to stay.
We had only just arrived for the first time and the girls decided to drive into the neighbouring village to pick up some things from the local shop, leaving me alone to begin preparing dinner. It was mid-afternoon on a beautiful autumn day and I couldn’t help admiring the fantastic view of the Atlantic coast from the kitchen window. I was a little nervous about preparing the duck which we’d brought, but I was willing to give it a go in the old gas oven. As I stood working at the sink and glancing out the window I remember thinking that it couldn’t have been a happier domestic scene, but all of sudden I began to feel ill at ease. A totally inexplicable sense of fear and dread came over me, which seemed to sit at odds with all the other things that I knew to be true and could see. I got a very strong feeling that someone was watching me even though I knew for a fact that I was the only person in the cottage. This made me feel foolish and I shook myself as if to dismiss the thought. Even so, I looked over my shoulder into the hallway to check and there was nothing there but a few rays of afternoon sun coming though the old fanlight in the front door. I turned back to the duck chuckling at my foolishness, and it was then that I felt the presence of someone standing right behind me, literally a few inches from me. I could feel their breath on the back of my neck. I was scared and stood frozen to the spot. Eventually I summoned the courage to swing round and of course again there was nothing there.
Before too long the girls returned with the shopping and we enjoyed the duck dinner, which actually turned out very well despite my anxiety on all fronts. We then settled down for the evening in front of a turf fire finishing the last of a bottle of the wine before bedtime. Our daughter who was about three at the time was put to bed in the room that we were staying in, which seemed welcoming enough aside from a large dark wardrobe and dressing table in which I half expected to find the clothing of the previous occupants, if not the previous occupants themselves.
When the lights went out we experienced the kind of darkness that you only get in the countryside. As they say in our part of Ireland ’ you couldn’t have seen a finger in front of your face’. I awoke a number of times during the night pondering what had happened earlier in the day, none of which I had mentioned to the others for fear of appearing foolish or frightening anyone unnecessarily. On one of these awakening I clearly heard what sounded like someone whispering indistinctly whilst clicking a ringed finger against the mirror in our room and dragging the said finger down the mirror with the accompanying scratching and scraping sound. At another point in the night my wife woke up accusing me of having punched her in the back in my sleep, until she realised that she was sleeping with her back to the outside of the bed.
I did stay in the cottage on a few other occasions after that, but was never terribly comfortable there. I do get a feeling about certain places, and there was most definitely something malevolent about that place. Something that had remained unspoken, but that was painful or sad
.Mapps Mum at the Dining rooms piped up "Not long before the II World War, my mother and grandmother were intent on changing their doctor.We liverd in the prostitute road Queens Drive . When they arrive at his house, they knocked on the door but nobody came to answer it, after waiting for what seemed like an eternity, the door slowly opened and there stood a tall, stern looking woman, dressed from top to bottom in a long, buttoned, black dress, with a lace collar. My mother asked her kindly whether she could speak to the doctor and told her why. The woman didn't speak, but just opened her mouth and with a gesture of her hand, invited them to enter. At this point my mother realised that my grandmother was getting paler and paler. The mysterious lady then sailed away into one of the halls surrounding rooms. They waited a while, but my mother, noticing the state of my grandmother was in, decided to knock and go straight in to the doctors room. As soon as they entered, the doctor seemed quite surprised and asked them who had let them in. My mother could only reply that it was his wife, but he said it couldn't have been, because his wife was in the room with him, who he duly introduced to them. She was totally different in build and dress. Not thinking to much about it then, they did their business and walked out. My poor grandmother was almost faint and begged my mother to get her to a Pub fast. When they were at last sitting comfortably with strong drink in front of them, she began to explain about, "Mrs Mel", her old headmaster's wife who had lived in that house when she was a child. She had been my grandmother's teacher and had been dead for many years. My mother was obviously rather incredulous, but seeing that evening the photograph of the same woman in my grandmother's old school album, couldn't deny the fact that it was the ghost of "Mrs Mel".
At this Brian Malone ex boxer and ex regular at the Robey said.
About twenty years ago my wife, our young daughter and I went to stay in a cottage in the west of Donegal, Ireland owned by the aunt of a friend of ours from college days,
Catherine. It was in a beautiful location near the sea and was obviously originally built as a thatched cottage as it had that typical look, although the roof had been changed to tiles over the years. Catherine told us there were stories told locally that back in the 1920s during the Irish War of Independence that people had been executed in the outhouse which was only a few yards from the cottage itself. We found this a little creepy given the remoteness of the location, but it didn’t really bother us very much and certainly didn’t influence our decision to stay.
We had only just arrived for the first time and the girls decided to drive into the neighbouring village to pick up some things from the local shop, leaving me alone to begin preparing dinner. It was mid-afternoon on a beautiful autumn day and I couldn’t help admiring the fantastic view of the Atlantic coast from the kitchen window. I was a little nervous about preparing the duck which we’d brought, but I was willing to give it a go in the old gas oven. As I stood working at the sink and glancing out the window I remember thinking that it couldn’t have been a happier domestic scene, but all of sudden I began to feel ill at ease. A totally inexplicable sense of fear and dread came over me, which seemed to sit at odds with all the other things that I knew to be true and could see. I got a very strong feeling that someone was watching me even though I knew for a fact that I was the only person in the cottage. This made me feel foolish and I shook myself as if to dismiss the thought. Even so, I looked over my shoulder into the hallway to check and there was nothing there but a few rays of afternoon sun coming though the old fanlight in the front door. I turned back to the duck chuckling at my foolishness, and it was then that I felt the presence of someone standing right behind me, literally a few inches from me. I could feel their breath on the back of my neck. I was scared and stood frozen to the spot. Eventually I summoned the courage to swing round and of course again there was nothing there.
Before too long the girls returned with the shopping and we enjoyed the duck dinner, which actually turned out very well despite my anxiety on all fronts. We then settled down for the evening in front of a turf fire finishing the last of a bottle of the wine before bedtime. Our daughter who was about three at the time was put to bed in the room that we were staying in, which seemed welcoming enough aside from a large dark wardrobe and dressing table in which I half expected to find the clothing of the previous occupants, if not the previous occupants themselves.
When the lights went out we experienced the kind of darkness that you only get in the countryside. As they say in our part of Ireland ’ you couldn’t have seen a finger in front of your face’. I awoke a number of times during the night pondering what had happened earlier in the day, none of which I had mentioned to the others for fear of appearing foolish or frightening anyone unnecessarily. On one of these awakening I clearly heard what sounded like someone whispering indistinctly whilst clicking a ringed finger against the mirror in our room and dragging the said finger down the mirror with the accompanying scratching and scraping sound. At another point in the night my wife woke up accusing me of having punched her in the back in my sleep, until she realised that she was sleeping with her back to the outside of the bed.
I did stay in the cottage on a few other occasions after that, but was never terribly comfortable there. I do get a feeling about certain places, and there was most definitely something malevolent about that place. Something that had remained unspoken, but that was painful or sad
.Mapps Mum at the Dining rooms piped up "Not long before the II World War, my mother and grandmother were intent on changing their doctor.We liverd in the prostitute road Queens Drive . When they arrive at his house, they knocked on the door but nobody came to answer it, after waiting for what seemed like an eternity, the door slowly opened and there stood a tall, stern looking woman, dressed from top to bottom in a long, buttoned, black dress, with a lace collar. My mother asked her kindly whether she could speak to the doctor and told her why. The woman didn't speak, but just opened her mouth and with a gesture of her hand, invited them to enter. At this point my mother realised that my grandmother was getting paler and paler. The mysterious lady then sailed away into one of the halls surrounding rooms. They waited a while, but my mother, noticing the state of my grandmother was in, decided to knock and go straight in to the doctors room. As soon as they entered, the doctor seemed quite surprised and asked them who had let them in. My mother could only reply that it was his wife, but he said it couldn't have been, because his wife was in the room with him, who he duly introduced to them. She was totally different in build and dress. Not thinking to much about it then, they did their business and walked out. My poor grandmother was almost faint and begged my mother to get her to a Pub fast. When they were at last sitting comfortably with strong drink in front of them, she began to explain about, "Mrs Mel", her old headmaster's wife who had lived in that house when she was a child. She had been my grandmother's teacher and had been dead for many years. My mother was obviously rather incredulous, but seeing that evening the photograph of the same woman in my grandmother's old school album, couldn't deny the fact that it was the ghost of "Mrs Mel".
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