Miss Alice Maud Lawn and her King Street shop. Photographs: Cambridgeshire Collection."We were all really frightened when Miss Lawn got murdered..."
The tales of old Cambridge my grandmother used to tell me were often funny, sometimes sad, often simply mundane yet somehow charming, but this one was different. Gran would lower her voice, and an atmosphere of unease would creep into her cosy sitting room...
Gran's father used to rent a smallholding of five acres from Cambridgeshire County Council at the Manor Farm on Arbury Road. Each week, he would go to the poultry and greengrocery marts, held at No 71 King Street - the premises of J Winship, auctioneer and valuer. The poultry marts took place on Wednesdays, and Fridays were the day for greengrocery.
In the school holidays, my gran often accompanied her father to the King Street Mart, whatever the day, and a much looked forward to highlight of these visits was a walk across the road to the small general shop just opposite, where Gran's father would buy her some sweets.
"It was a little shop," Gran told me. "Even though I was only little myself, I remember it being small. But it sold all sorts of things. Dad would sit me on the counter and I'd choose some sweets."
The shopkeeper, Miss Alice Maud Lawn, was remembered by Gran as being "a dear little woman." She lived alone at the shop, with only her cat as a companion, but her brother and sister-in-law lived just across the road, and a cousin ran the nearby Belmont Garage.
On July 27th, 1921, Miss Lawn was murdered in the tiny hallway at the back of her shop.
Gran told me: "It was terrible. A man called Clanwaring was arrested, but he wasn't guilty. "
The murder had taken place just a few days before my gran's eleventh birthday, and she, an impressionable and highly imaginative child, had been absolutely terrified.
"I think it was so much worse because we knew Miss Lawn, she was part of our routine whenever we were at the Mart, and, although we never socialised with her, we saw her regularly at the shop and we were on friendly terms with her through being customers.
"And to think that Dad had been at the Mart on the day of the murder, just across the road... it all made it seem very close to home."
Gran lived with her parents in a small terraced house on Milton Road, and although it was some way from King Street, the fear was still strong.
"I'd lay awake every night, listening to every creak... It was only a two-up, two-down, tiny little place, if anybody had tried to break in we'd have heard them... But I'd still lay there listening... I was really frightened.
"Mum used the front room of our house as a shop to sell toffee apples and Dad's produce from Manor Farm, and she started keeping a sharp eye out for strangers or anybody behaving suspiciously. People couldn't wait for the paper to come out - you'd see them standing around talking about the murder, on Milton Road, Chesterton Road, outside Mitcham's, anywhere...
"Of course, we kiddies weren't supposed to hear, but we picked up on a lot more than the grown-ups gave us credit for.
"The neighbourhood had always felt safe to me, I had aunts, uncles and cousins living round about, and you took it for granted you were safe - it wasn't like nowadays. But suddenly you were looking at people, sizing them up... didn't that man on Victoria Avenue seem a bit strange? Didn't that man on Chesterton Road look... well... sort of... haunted?
"My Dad was a very steady man, and he never revealed to me that he was frightened. Looking back, I think he was just extra loving and reassuring to me at that time. He was always lovely anyway - I was a proper 'daddy's girl' - but I knew my Mum was frightened, and that made things so much worse..."
"Before that, I didn't even think Mum could be frightened! It never crossed my mind!
"Me and Mum used to cut across Midsummer Common from Victoria Avenue to Fair Street if we were going to the pictures in the evening, but although it was summer and broad daylight we stopped doing that and stuck to the road. You couldn't be too careful!
"Then the police discovered two young louts had done it. They'd pushed Miss Lawn down the stairs..."
Gran never forgot the "King Street Tragedy", but once the "two young louts" guilty of the murder had been caught, her initial terror faded.
But the memory still caused her to lower her voice and use a solemn tone whenever she mentioned the subject in later years.
A couple of years after my gran's death in 1998, I was at the Cambridgeshire Collection, looking through the Cambridge Daily News archive, searching for material - births, marriages, deaths and suchlike - for my family history project when I suddenly noticed a headline in the issue dated 27 July 1921:
CAMBRIDGE TRAGEDY
Shocking Discovery in King Street Shop
And over the subsequent issues there unfolded the sad and disturbing story of that long-ago crime.
And it was rather more disturbing than the version related to me by my grandmother. Her memory of a man called Clanwaring being accused of the murder was spot on, but the "two young hooligans" later apprehended according to Gran were missing in reality, as was the notion that Miss Lawn had been "pushed downstairs".
In fact, the identity of the perpetrator/s of the "King Street tragedy" remains a mystery to this day.
I was greatly puzzled as Gran's memory was second to none, and the King Street tragedy had obviously had a great effect on her when she was at a very impressionable age. But later I discovered the reason why Gran's story of the events differed from the reality.
So, to return to the King Street of 1921, just what did happen?
No 70 was, at that time, a small general shop on the corner of Milton's Walk, with the Champion of the Thames public house just across the narrow passageway. The shop area covered about 15ft 3 inches by 12 ft 6 inches. There was a window in the shop from Miss Lawn's living room, so that she could see if customers were waiting to be served whilst she was not behind the counter. Moving through the interior door into Miss Lawn's living quarters, one would encounter a side door to the right, opening into Milton's Walk, and stairs to the upper floors beside it, facing the door from the shop.
Miss Lawn's living room, with range and cupboards, was across the tiny hall to the left, and beyond that was the scullery, with sink and tap. There were three bedrooms on the floor above, and a large attic bedroom above those. Miss Lawn slept in the attic bedroom.
At the back of the house was a small concreted yard, with a coal-place and WC. The garden gate opened onto Milton's Walk.
27 July 1921 was a hot day, and a busy one in the street - with the Mart taking place as usual. It was said that people came from "far and wide" - from as far away as London.
Miss Lawn had lived in the street for around twenty years - she had originally moved to the shop with her mother, who had died in 1908.
On 27 July, Miss Lawn opened the shop as usual. A popular product of hers at the time was bread and cheese, a boon to some of those attending the Mart.
From around 10.40 am onwards, Miss Lawn paid the delivery man for some bread, gave some change to a workman from Christ's Pieces, and served two little girls.
When Arthur Sexton, a telephonist, arrived at the shop at around five or ten past eleven to buy some cigarettes, the door was locked...
More on the King Street Tragedy next week
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