Welcome to Murder Mile.

Today, I'm standing on Ruppel Street in Waterloo.

A few streets south of the happy slapping attack on David Morley,

the dump body of Peggy Roberts,

the frozen remains of Baby Harry Hartley,

and one street west of the woman who never spoke her killer's name.

Coming soon to Murder Mile.

Created by social visionary George Peabody in the late 1800s.

The Peabody buildings were and still are, a series of inner city estates to provide clean and affordable housing for the most disadvantaged.

To qualify, every tenant must be neat, decent, law-abiding, and obey the walls on noise and cleanliness.

As beyond these precision pieces of brownstone history, you won't find a dumped fridge,

a stinky bin back, a slump drunk, a corridor blocked by ten pairs of pants,

wiggling on a line like a budget magic mic show, or a courtyard, crammed full of car paths,

like a hoarder got bored, building a museum

to a Nissan micro scrapyard. Simple rules we could all live by.

Back in 1950, flat 21 on the fourth floor of Block F was home to 42-year-old bachelor William Donahue.

Described as quiet and pleasant, he was typical of the residence.

By day he worked hard as a bus conductor, and by night, if he wasn't on an early shift,

he would go to his local pub for a pint.

William was an ordinary man, with no real problems, who was never angry, violent or disturbed.

But all that would change, on the night of Thursday the 7th of December 1950,

when in an unprovoked and frenzied attack,

...