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How can a statistic killing be both unsolved and some say solved?

Find out on Murder Mile.

Thank you. and some say solved. Find out on Murder Mile. Today, I'm standing on Woodfield Road in Ealing, W-5.

4 streets north of the home of Alice Cross's killer.

5 streets west of the brutal murder of Penny Bell,

four streets northwest of the penultimate attack by the beast, and three streets south,

of the custard eating knots, coming soon to murder mile.

In a leafy enclave of Ealing near Montpellier Park sits Stanley Court.

A block of 32, brown-bricked self-contained flats built in the 1930s to cater for the West London Bachelors.

Back then, being fitted with a double bed, a modest kitchenette, and a soft sofa for savouring

one's leisure time.

The ambience wasn't sullied by the ear-shattering wail of ungrateful brats in need of a good

slap, the fetid stench of sole nappies, and every surface being spattered with all manner

of body fluids fluids and jam,

as their sexless, broken and eternally knackered parents cut the years until they can finally get out, flee, or just get divorced.

Oh yes, tell me how having a child is a magical experience, and when you finished, tell your face.

In 1988, with greater and necessary changes in equality laws, several professionals who lived at Stanley Court were women,

career girls who assured marriage and babies for the independence to plough a furrow as a high-flying executive with her own flat, car and future.

One woman was 36-year-old Diana Moore, a recruitment consultant who'd done everything right in her life.

She was well liked, kind, popular popular and she never made a single enemy.

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