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Blackout Ripper: How wartime murderer stayed hidden in history

Smoke. Flames. Blackout. London in February 1942 was dangerous.

But beyond the Nazi bombs, a ruthless killer was stalking the streets. Selecting his victims. Tearing them apart.

The tale of the Blackout Ripper is not well known. Unspeakable crimes hidden by darkness.

For historian Hallie Rubenhold and journalist Alice Fiennes, this is not right.

In series two of the Bad Women podcast on Βι¶ΉΤΌΕΔ Sounds, they turn a searchlight on the Ripper’s victims, with some illuminating findings...

Why the story has been buried

Fifty years earlier, another killer had no trouble gaining notoriety as he haunted the streets of London. Jack the Ripper, one of history’s most famous serial killers.

So why has his heir apparent not commanded the same headlines?

“It was a world made darker and more dangerous by war,” says Rubenhold. “These women have been forgotten, murdered in a city without lights.”

In an era of bombed-out buildings and the daily possibility of death every time the sun went down, how much air time is left for the fate of some unfortunate, ordinary women?

Even if the murders were some of the most grisliest ever seen in England’s capital city.

The Blackout Ripper was the nickname given to 28-year-old Gordon Frederick Cummins, an English serial killer who murdered four women in London in 1942 (Getty Images)

An exhaustive pursuit of the story

“Such cruelty usually ensures a killer is remembered,” explains Fiennes on episode one. “Even assigned some kind of dark celebrity.

“But over the years, this particular story has been talked about very little – and the victims less so.

“To restore these women to memory, we set about reconstructing their lives.”

To do so, no stone has been left unturned. They have mined the national archives; thousands of yellowing pages; police reports; witness statements; photos; fingerprint records and newspapers.

They have even enlisted a genealogist to help trace the family trees of victims for clues.

A killer from the same side

The enemy abroad was obvious. The danger at home less so. But the cruel intentions of the Blackout Ripper were shrouded by the ultimate cover story.

For this man sported the uniform of a leading aircraft officer, an RAF servicemen whose clothes suggested he was in training to become a pilot, one of the most glamorous jobs in the armed services. He had a single strike on his cuff, denoting a commendation for good conduct.

His voice carried the air of an aristocrat, someone from a wealthy background, even if it did occasionally sound a little forced.

In the eyes of society, he was a respectable upstanding servant of his country but by night, he was a vicious and calculating killer.

How London made it easier to strike

Winter 1942 was the height of the Blitz – and the bright lights of London’s West End were switched off.

But activity continued apace and Rubenhold explains a theme of the whole series is the blackout as “a boom time for crime in London”.

For serious criminals, rations and shortages opened up a platform for a flourishing black market, pulling usually respectable people into the orbit of thieves and gangsters.

Women were also drawn into the trade out of a need to feed and clothe their families. It made the pull of the market hard to resist.

Beyond that, despite the hardships of war, the clubs and bars of Piccadilly Circus and Soho thronged with people and, thanks to many regulars serving in the armed forces prompting a reduction in prices, a new clientele were suddenly frequenting them.

It was a place where people went to forget the horrors of the outside world until, as in the Café de Paris, the ceiling literally caved in on them.

These restaurants and night spots form the backdrop for the Blackout Ripper to identify his prey – and ruthlessly dispose of them.

What the victims had in common

On one level, the victims had little to connect them. Their ages range from 20s to mid-40s. Some married, some not, some resolutely single. Some sold sex, one was a highly qualified graduate and one dreamed of life on stage.
Yet dig deeper and, as Rubenhold puts it, the facts that bind them are “illuminating”.

The war had opened up new opportunities for women – unlike Jack the Ripper’s victims half a century earlier, all of these victims could now vote and enjoy opportunities beyond the dreams of their predecessors.

However, women were also now viewed with suspicion and disapproval for trying to live and love as they pleased in a world that had been turned upside down.

“They were just ordinary women, trying to make the best of things in London’s bomb-damaged night district,” Rubenhold continues, “and they all found themselves isolated and alone.

“They all gave the airman with the aristocratic accent an opportunity to strike.”

The dark and dislocation of war made it possible for the Blackout Ripper to strike.

And, until now, it has kept his victims hidden from history.


Listen to Bad Women: Blackout Ripper on Βι¶ΉΤΌΕΔ Sounds to find out their stories