Welcome to Murder Mile.

Today, I'm standing in St. James's Park, SW1, 300 feet south of the RAC Club where Sarah Gibson was murdered,

and were within sight of the bed where her torture took place.

St James's Park is a 23 hectare, grade 1 listed park in Westminster, circled by such

famous sites as Buckingham Palace, Horse Guards Parade, 10 Downing Street and St James's

Palace.

Named after St James the Less, a former Lep Hospital stolen on this site. And whereas once it was home

to Henry VIII's exotic zoo full of kidnapped wildlife, such as camels, elephants and crocodiles.

It is now a public park. Open to everyone, it features ornate rockeries, cultivated hedges, water fountains and a duck island,

complete with a hint at its former inmates, a squadron of pelicans.

For thousands of people every day, St James's Park is an escape to the country in the heart of the city.

Sadly, as the sun blazes, its pieces often pulverized by a plethora of prize pellics.

Were the posh brats banging on bongos, as if playing ethnic instruments, makes their daddy's

asset stripping income less racist.

The pungent whiff of the shit santa, who decorates trees with little bags of poodle

blob, those talentless circus turds, who tippito a tightrope between trees a full three inches off the grass.

And the worst terrorist to tranquility, children.

Ugh, please, somebody tell them to shut up.

But at night, as the park empties, it becomes a to shut up.

But at night, as the park empties,

it becomes a refuge for the city's homeless.

And although it's a public park for everyone to enjoy,

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