Welcome to Murder Mile. Today, I'm standing on what was once Rundle Road in Maider Hill W9.

Three streets northeast of the home of Gladys Hanrahan, one street northwest of the register

office where the blackout ripper got married, and a short walk from the lonely demise of

Lena Cunningham, coming soon to Murder Mile.

Maider Hill is a hodgepotch of mismatched buildings reflecting the area's ever-changing fortunes.

So among the council flats, stone churches and three-story of Victorian terraces,

you were likely to see a rude boy popping wheelies on a stolen e-scooter, cussing,

me is wicked, you get me.

As an opera board tuts at that disrespectful rubscalion, as the sleeves of his silk housecoat

shuffles rhythmically to a set of nudie etchings.

Between Oakington, Maryland and Thorngate Roads now stands Paddington Academy.

But back in the 1930s, through the middle of this secondary school, one stood Rundle Road.

Two lines of tumble-down houses, subdivided into cramped lodgings for working-class families

living on a pitiful little wage.

In a small basement room at Three Vondel Road, one's lived, 26-year-old chambermaid Minnie Barry,

her fiancé Frederick Sorensen, and their three-year-old son,

Freddie Jr. For Minnie, money was short, but being so focused on providing for a family,

she got them through the toughest of times, but only just.

Minnie would fight a brave fight to keep her family from the gutter,

and although Wednesday the 28th of June 1933 would start like any other day,

everybody has a breaking point, and hers would happen here.

My name is Michael. I am your tour guide, and this is Murder Mile.

...