GEORGE HUTCHINSON

murdered with a deep stab wound to the throat. A blood-stained kitchen knife was found nearby. Ada’s face was bruised
and livid, like if her attacker had struck her, and held her in a stranglehold. She had been dead about three hours and
a half.
The question on everybody’s lips was of course what had happened to the man George Pavey, who was supposed
to have been looking after the house. When Inspector Frederick Savage, an experienced officer from the Metropolitan
Police, arrived at Herbert Villas to take charge of the murder investigation, it was clear to him that Pavey was the main
suspect. After dispatching some constables to guard the murder house, and to search for Pavey and other suspicious
persons locally, Inspector Savage went to the wanted man’s last known lodgings, No. 31 Manchester Street, Notting
Hill. Neither Pavey nor his wife were at home, however, and although the canny Inspector kept watch until 1 am in the
morning, the suspect did not make an appearance.
Ada Shepherd, and the apprehension of George Pavey,
from the Illustrated Police News, 6 November 1880
The following morning, Inspector
Savage ordered a general search
for George Pavey, instructing that
all hospitals and workhouses should
report any suspicious new inmates,
and that all low-class boardinghouses
should be searched. It
turned out that a young man
had seen Pavey absconding from
the murder house at 3.20 in the
afternoon, heading towards the
Uxbridge Road. Ada Shepherd had
last been seen alive at 2 pm, by
a confectioner from whom she had purchased a sugar-stick for her little sister, and at 2.10 by a greengrocer, from
whom she had purchased halfpennyworth of nuts, obviously as a treat for herself once she had dispatched the younger
children at their school. And indeed, some nuts had been found underneath one of Ada’s lifeless hands. Inspector Savage
suspected that Pavey had raped and murdered Ada soon after she had arrived home around 2.20 in the afternoon. He had
then broken open the door to Mr Shepherd’s office, and searched it for the money his employer had spoken of receiving
for the sale of a house. Finding none, since Mr Shepherd had not cashed the cheque but brought it with him to Norwood,
he had stolen a pair of boots and various other articles, before skulking away towards the Uxbridge Road.
The days after the murder, there was much uproar in Acton and its surroundings. Crowds of people stood gawping at
the murder house. Rumours were abounding that all Mr Shepherd’s children had been murdered, or that the entire family
had been exterminated in a bloodbath. Still, the true facts of the case were horrific enough: nothing even remotely like
the Acton Atrocity, as the rape and murder was called, had ever occurred in this quiet suburban neighbourhood. Rumours
were flying about Pavey being arrested in Croydon, or with his parents in Brighton, possibly disguised as a woman.
Unamused by such idle speculation, the police retorted that although several people had been taken into custody in
different parts of London, they had all been able to explain themselves. Watch was kept at the railway stations, and
at the main roads out of London, and all cheap hotels and lodging-houses were being searched by the police. The
description of George Pavey, five feet five inches in height, of sallow complexion, clean shaven face, and walking stiffly
due to being partially paralysed in the left side, was widely circulated. Local feeling against the suspect as greatly
inflamed, and Inspector Savage was fearful that Pavey would be lynched if he was captured by the Acton vigilantes. The
funeral of Ada Shepherd, at Hanwell Cemetery, was very well attended in spite of rainy weather conditions.
On the evening of Sunday, 24 October, two days after the murder of Ada Shepherd, a sore-footed vagabond came
tramping into Hendon Workhouse. He was given some bread and butter, which he devoured with the rapidity of extreme
hunger. The workhouse superintendent, who of course knew about the Acton Atrocity, came to see him. Since the
tramp was lame in one arm and leg, and very much resembled the description of George Pavey that had been issued by
the police, he gruffly called out ‘Your name is Pavey!’ The vagabond, who was chewing hard at the bread, swallowed
convulsively, before meekly admitting ‘Yes, it is.’ He was promptly taken to the Paddington police station, where he was
confronted by Inspector Savage. The detective showed him a large handkerchief, the one found covering the face of the
murdered child, and Pavey said ‘Yes, it is mine, I put it there!’ He kept eating ravenously, consuming an entire loaf of
bread, and drinking enormous quantities of tea, but he did not sleep all night.
Ripperologist 146 October 2015 52