Welcome to Murder Mile.

Today, I'm standing in Rupert Court, W.1.

One Street north of the death of Ken Snake H W1, one street north of the death of Ken Snake Hibbs Johnson,

one street northeast of the club where the first date killer met his date,

and just a few feet from the wannabe gangsters who acted like bell ends.

Coming soon to Murder Mile, the YouTube channel.

Ooh.

Nestled between the ornate gates to Chinatown, Rupert Court is a narrow alley connecting Rupert

Street and Wardor Street.

At roughly 6 feet wide, 100 feet long and 3 stories high,

every inch of space has a shop squeezed in.

Whether a Malaysian cafe, a Thai restaurant, a decent pub, a branded pizzeria,

and at 8 rupert is Steppen. A one-stop shop for your relaxation and well-being needs.

Of course, being a respectable establishment providing massage in this area, you half expect to see a pasty wheezing pervert with a shuffling fist,

hairy palms and bulging pants, being politely ejected with a firm boot,

as the only happy finish he'll receive here is in his soul.

But that mistake is easy to make.

Back in the 1960s, Rupert Court was full of mucky bookshops and sleazy porn palaces.

At number eight stood the imaginatively titled Rupert Court Club.

A cheesy clip joint where gaggggles of drunken, horny men, desperate to see a bit of boob,

pay over the odds to be fooled by the oldest trick in the book.

One such man was Edward Valsstrom Lewis, an Australian on a night out with his pals.

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