Welcome to Murder Mile.

Today, I'm Stenning in Regions Park, NW1.

Two roads south and west of the first two possible murders by the Blackout Ripper.

One road east of the college where Martin Vig Magnerson met a deadly friend.

And a short walk south of the brutal slaughter over a sacred elephant.

Coming soon to Murder Mile.

Just north of Baker Street, Regents Park is one of several Royal Parks in London.

Covering 395 acres, it has boating lakes, an open-air theatre, a zoo and limitless space for everyone.

Whether a yappy little rat who soils itself every six feet like it's writing its demands in a

stinky morse code a lycra-clad jogger whose sweaty whiff makes the flowers wilt and an

attention-seeking turd who ruins every picnic by bringing a guitar so their frail ego can be massaged by the words,

ooh, aren't you talented?

Cumberland Green is a wide expanse of grass on the far eastern edge of Regents Park,

just shy of a perimeter road called the Outer Circle.

Chris crossed with a series of interconnecting paths. Unlike the rest of Regions Park, which

is manicured and cultivated, Cumberland Green has no plants, no shrubs, no bushes, no pond, and only a smattering of trees.

It's as if the planners simply ran out of ideas.

Being flat and unencumbered by obstructions, it's the perfect place for a game of cricket.

But if you wanted to hide something, let's say a dead body,

this part of the park would be possibly the worst place to pick.

On Wednesday the 1st of October, 1947, at roughly 10.15 p.m., it was here that the body of a 35-year-old bookkeeper called Gladys Hanma, was found. Having been gagged, strangled and beaten, it was clear

that she'd been dead for barely an hour. But what wasn't clear

...