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Thread: John Wayne Glover

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    Red face John Wayne Glover

    John Wayne Glover was a convicted Australian serial killer. He was responsible for the North Shore Granny Murders in Sydney, Australia. He was nicknamed "The Granny Killer" for his trademark murders that involved attacking older woman by beating them on the head with a hammer until they collapsed, then by strangling them with their underwear.



    Full Name: John Wayne Glover / Born: John Walter Glover
    Gender: Male
    Race:
    Caucasian
    Birth:
    November 26, 1932 in England, United Kingdom
    Death:
    September 9, 2005 in Marrangaroo, New South Wales, Australia - Age 72
    Cause of Death: Suicide in prison (hanging)
    Nicknames: Granny Killer / Monster of Mosman
    Murder toll: 6+
    Murder timeline:
    1989-1990 / Age 56 at first murder, 57 at last murder Murder Locations: Australia - Belrose, New South Wales / Lane Cove, New South Wales / Mosman, New South Wales
    Preferred Pray: Elderly females
    Modus Operandi: Robbery, bludgeoning, strangulation
    Victim Disposal: Left them where they were murdered
    Signature:
    Beat most victims in head with hammer then strangled them with their underwear or pantyhose.


    Background




    Originally from England, Glover emigrated to Australia in 1956.


    Before John Glover began his killings in the late 1980s, he was a volunteer at the Senior Citizens Society, and was considered among his friends a friendly, trustworthy man.



    He was married with two children, and lived a contented lifestyle in Mosman. Glover worked as a sales representative for Four 'n' Twenty Pies.


    Murders

    There is no evidence of Glover killing until 1989, when he was 57. At this stage, he had been married for 20 years and had children, and his wife had no knowledge of his previous offences. Glover admitted to the killings when confronted with the police evidence. He denied responsibility for other crimes in which he was a prime suspect, including the bashing murder of Florence Broadhurst in her Paddington home in 1977. A number of years after his conviction, Glover admitted that he never worried about who his victims were, or why he killed them. He said he wanted to stop killing, but couldn't. After each murder he apparently went about his normal life.

    Gwendoline Mitchelhill

    On 1 March 1989, as he left the Mosman RSL in Military Rd, Glover saw Gwendoline Mitchelhill walking down the street. Glover returned to his car and put a hammer under his belt. He followed Mitchelhill to the entry foyer of her Military Road apartment building. As she went to open the front door, he hit her with the hammer on the back of her head. He then continued to bash her about the head and body; several of her ribs were broken. Glover fled the scene taking her wallet containing $100. Mitchelhill was still alive when she was found by two schoolboys, but died shortly after the police and ambulance arrived. The police had no leads and there was nothing concrete to link this attack with the previous attack on Margaret Todhunter. The police assumed that it was another mugging gone wrong.

    Lady (Winfreda) Ashton

    On 9 May 1989, Glover was walking along Military Road when he saw eighty-four year-old Lady Ashton walking towards him. She was on her way home to nearby Raglan Street. Glover put on a pair of gloves and followed her into the foyer of her apartment, where he attacked her with his hammer. He then threw her to the ground and dragged her into a rubbish bin alcove where he repeatedly hit her head on the pavement. Glover recalled that she had almost overpowered him, until he fell on top of her and started to hit her head on the pavement. After she was knocked unconscious, John Glover removed her pantyhose and strangled her. He placed the Ashton's walking stick and shoes at her feet. He then left with her purse containing $100. Glover headed for the Mosman RSL, where he commented to staff that he hoped the sirens outside weren't for another mugging.


    The police found Lady Ashton lying face down diagonally across the concrete floor of the small bin alcove. There was a pool of blood around her head. The pantyhose were strung so tight around her neck that it cut through the skin. Her bare legs were crossed and her arms were placed by her sides. She had a thin trickle of blood running out of her mouth. At this point, the police concluded they were facing a serial killer. To date all three victims were wealthy elderly women, from the same suburb, and were all assaulted or killed in the same manner before being robbed of their handbags.


    A post mortem was carried out and no sign of semen was found. The ligature mark around her neck measured nine centimetres. She had bruises on her nose and temple, on her neck, and both her eyelids. At some stage during the struggle she bit her lips causing damage to the inner lining of her mouth. There was a wound on her cheek, which was an open cut that had a small, semi-circular abrasion which was a few centimetres away from it. The examiner noted the victim's diamond ring was still present suggesting that she had not been killed for money.

    Other offences

    On 11 January 1989, 84-year-old Margaret Todhunter was walking down Hale Road, Mosman, where she was seen by Glover. After parking his car, he walked to the victim. He punched Todhunter in the face, and stole the contents of her purse including $209. As he ran off with the victim's handbag, Mrs Todhunter yelled out, 'You rotten bugger'. Glover then went to the Mosman RSL club where he spent the money on beer and video poker. Investigating police concluded the crime was a mugging and held little hope of finding the perpetrator.


    On 6 June 1989, Glover molested seventy-seven year-old Marjorie Moseley at the Wesley Gardens Retirement Home in Belrose. The victim reported to hospital staff and police that a man had put his hand under her night gown, but that she could not remember what the man looked like. On 24 June 1989, Glover visited the Caroline Chisholm Nursing Home in Lane Cove where he lifted the dress of an elderly patient and fondled her buttocks. In a neighbouring room, he slid his hand down the front of another patient's nightdress and stroked her breasts. The woman cried out for help and Glover was briefly questioned by staff at the hospital before leaving.

    On 8 August 1989, Glover bashed the elderly Effie Carnie in a back street in Lindfield, also on Sydney's lower North Shore. On 6 October, he pretended to be a doctor and ran his hand up the dress of Phyllis McNeil, a patient at the Wybenia Nursing Home in the lower North Shore suburb of Neutral Bay. Glover left when the blind McNeil called for help. At the time, Glover was apparently never suspected of, or identified as being responsible for the molestations.


    On 18 October 1989, Glover escorted eighty-six-year-old Doris Cox along Spit Road, Mosman to her retirement village. In the secluded stairwell in he attacked her, ramming her face into a brick wall where she fell. She was not able to provide a clear description; according to her, the attacker was a young man, possibly a teenager. She provided police with an identikit drawing.

    Margaret Pahud

    On 2 November 1989, John Glover killed eighty-five-year-old Margaret Pahud. This time the police were certain this was the work of the 'Granny Killer'. She was hit on the back of the head with a blunt instrument while walking home in a quiet backstreet, just off Longueville Road, Lane Cove. Pahud was on her way home from grocery shopping. Glover waited for her to enter the lane where he was waiting and hit her on the head with a hammer. She collapsed and he struck her again on the side of the head. Glover rearranged her clothing, took her handbag and left. Nobody saw the attack but within a few minutes her body was found by a young schoolgirl who at first thought the body was a pile of clothing dumped in the laneway. As the police and ambulance were on their way, Glover rummaged through the contents of Mrs Pahud's purse on the grounds of a nearby golf club. He then headed off to the Mosman RSL Club to again spend $300 he had stolen from Pahud.

    Olive Cleveland

    Within 24 hours of the Pahud murder, Olive Cleveland was the fourth woman killed by the so-called 'Granny Killer'.

    Glover struck up a conversation with Cleveland while she was sitting on a bench just outside the Wesley Gardens Retirement Village where she lived in the suburb of Belrose. When Olive became uncomfortable she got up and proceeded to walk the main building, Glover seized her from behind and forced her into a secluded side lane. Here he repeatedly pushed her head into the concrete before he removed her pantyhose and tied them tightly around her neck. Glover then left taking $60 from her handbag.

    Muriel Falconer

    On 23 November 1989, Glover, was sitting in the Buena Vista Hotel in Middle Head Road, Mosman when he saw ninety-two-year-old Muriel Falconer walking opposite the hotel. Glover returned to his car, to retrieve his hammer and gloves. He followed Falconer to outside her home in Muston Street. He quietly moved up behind her while the partially deaf and blind Falconer opened her front door. He put his hand around her mouth to silence her, before repeatedly hitting her around the head and neck with his hammer. When she fell to the floor Glover began to remove Falconer's pantyhose. As he did this she began to regain consciousness and cried for help. This prompted Glover to smash his hammer into her multiple times until she finally passed out. He removed her undergarments and used them to strangle her. He searched her purse and the rest of her house for valuables before leaving with $100. The following afternoon, the body was discovered by a neighbour.

    Police investigation


    On 11 January, Glover visited the Greenwich Hospital in River Road, Greenwich, on his pie sales round. He was in his work uniform and carried a clipboard, and entered the hospital's palliative care ward where there were four elderly and ill women, including 82 year old advanced cancer patient Daisy Roberts. Glover asked if she was losing any body heat, he then pulled up her night gown and touched her in an indecent manner. Roberts panicked and called for help, upon which a hospital sister found Glover in the ward. When confronted, Glover ran from the ward and the sister was able to record his car's registration number, and notified police.


    The hospital staff were able to identify and name Glover, as he was known from doing his pie rounds. A week later, the police returned with a photograph of Glover which Sister Davis and Mrs Roberts positively identified. Although this was a significant break through, the hospital assaults were not linked to the murders, nor reported to the murder task force for three weeks. Detectives from Chatswood police station contacted and confirmed Glover's name via his employers. Detectives contacted Glover and requested he attend an interview at the station the following day. When Glover failed to appear, the police rang his home and were informed by his wife that he had attempted suicide and was recovering at the Royal North Shore Hospital. Police went to the hospital to see Glover but he was too sick to be interviewed. Staff at the hospital handed police a note that was written by Glover that contained the words 'no more grannies...grannies'.


    It was two weeks before the suicide note was passed on to the task force, whereupon detectives believed immediately that Glover was the killer, although they had no evidence. The head of the detective task force said: If he had said to us, "I don't want to talk", we couldn't have proved a thing.'Still, the photo matched the descriptions of the gray-haired suspect and his job as a pie salesman, Glover could have been at any of the murder scenes. Glover was interviewed over the nursing home assaults and denied all accusations. Police had limited evidence and decided not to question him over the murders, which would have let Glover know of the police suspicions. Glover was put under constant police surveillance including at one stage, placing an automatic tracking device on Glover's. To make sure that he wasn't being followed, Glover would drive around the block more than once, or drive the wrong way up one way streets.

    Joan Sinclair

    On 19 March 1990, John Glover killed his sixth and final victim, the middle-aged Joan Sinclair with whom he was having an affair. By this stage, police had Glover under constant surveillance and watched as Joan let Glover into her home at approximately 10 a.m. By 1 p.m. there was no sign of Glover or movement within the house. Police and the surveillance team, became concerned at about 5 p.m. and got permission to enter the house at 6pm. Two uniformed police knocked on the front door to no answer, and saw through rear glass door hammer lying in a pool of dry blood on a mat. Four detectives searched the house and found Joan Sinclairís battered head wrapped in a bundle of blood-soaked towels. She was naked from the waist down and her pantyhose were tied around her neck. Her genitals were damaged but Glover would later deny interfering with her sexually. After finding the body of Miss Sinclair, they then searched the house for Glover. Glover was found lying in the bathtub unconscious with a slashed wrist.


    Glover later told police he murdered Joan Sinclair and explained they had been having a relationship for some time. He said that on the day he bashed Mrs Sinclair about the head with his hammer, removed her pantyhose, and strangled her with them. Glover rolled the body onto a mat; wrapped four towels around her extensive head wounds to stem the flow of blood, then dragged her body across the room, leaving a trail of blood. He then ran the bath, swallowed a handful of Valium with a bottle of Vat 69, slashed his left wrist and lay in the tub to die. The police were relieved he had survived, as otherwise they feared ongoing speculation as to whether Glover was the murderer.

    Trial


    At the trial John Wayne Glover pleaded not guilty to his crimes on the grounds of diminished responsibility. A psychiatrist said Glover had built up hostility and aggression since his childhood against his mother and then against his mother-in-law, who was said to "trigger" him. When she died he had to take out his aggression on someone else. The psychiatrist who studied the case also added that this was a very unusual case because there are very few mass murders, and most of the perpetrators are mentally ill, and/or have an organic disease of the brain. According to this psychiatrist Glover was sane at the time of the killings.



    The Crown prosecutor maintained that Glover was well aware of his actions. When he killed, he was also planning what to do with the victimís money. Glover was impotent and had no interest in sex. So tying the pantyhose so tightly around his victimís neck was to make sure they were dead, at the same time trying to trick the police into thinking that this was the work of a sex killer.
    Gloverís motives were revenge and greed.Glover was addicted to poker machines, and the easiest way for Glover to get more money was to steal. After the guilty verdict was delivered, the presiding judge stated that he was dealing with an extremely dangerous prisoner.
    He is able to choose when to attack and when to stay his hand. He is cunning and able to cover his tracks. It is plain that he has chosen his moments carefully. Although the crimes have been opportunistic, he has not gone in where the risks were overwhelming.
    The period since January 1989 has been one of intense and serious crime involving extreme violence inflicted on elderly women, accompanied by theft or robbery of their property. On any view, the prisoner has shown himself to be an exceedingly dangerous person and that view was mirrored by the opinions of the psychiatrists who gave evidence at his trial.
    I have no alternative other than to impose the maximum available sentence, which means that the prisoner will be required to spend the remainder of his natural life in gaol.
    It is inappropriate to express any date as to release on parole. Having regard to those life sentences, this is not a case where the prisoner may ever be released pursuant to order of this court. He is never to be released

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  2. #2
    Guest LUCKY13's Avatar
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    Default

    What a sick-fuck he was! The world is well rid of him. He of course took the cowards way out. By committing suicide he escaped the consequences of his actions. How long did it take to catch him Doc, and how long did he spend in prison before he offed himself?

    First loves...First kisses...
    My first look at my newborn son...
    When I am cold and dead...
    All these memories will be gone...
    Like tears in rain...
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    Default Suburban serial killer

    Suburban serial killer


    September 9, 2005 - 4:08PM




    First published in Good Weekend in April 1994

    As soon as he saw the shoes, Detective Senior Constable Paul Mayger's heart started racing. They were velvet, low-heeled pumps, and they had been placed carefully and neatly with the walking stick in a corner of the room opposite the old lady's feet. The shoes of the first victim had been put neatly by her body, too. It was some sort of macabre trademark - the killer's calling card. Same time, same area, same type of victim. What the hell were they dealing with?


    Detective Senior Constable Murray Byrnes sensed it, too. "What do you think?" he whispered to Mayger.


    "It's the same guy all right, and he's not going to stop here. I know it."Mayger looked down at the body, as scientific police continued their searching, measuring and recording. She was lying face down diagonally across the concrete floor of the small bin room. A pool of blood had formed around her head. The collar of the old lady's raincoat was pulled up about her face, hiding the pantihose knotted so tightly around her neck it had cut into her skin. Near her head was a blood-soaked gas bill receipt in her name. Her handbag and brown woollen hat lay beside her body. She had on fawn woollen gloves, and under the raincoat, she wore a blue-and-white striped dress and a slip. Her bare legs were crossed, her arms by her sides. A thin trickle of blood ran from her mouth.





    The task facing the police looked to be as daunting as the first murder -Gwendoline Mitchelhill. But the next-door neighbour, Mrs Laurie Burt, turned out to be a godsend.


    Mrs Burt was sharp, and despite all that had happened, had her wits about her. She helped police quickly piece together the final hours of Lady (Freda)Ashton, the second wife and widow of Sir William Ashton, one of Australia's most famous landscape painters.


    Coming in after a hard day, Lady Ashton would have paused at the letterboxes, picked up any junk mail and rubbish, and taken everything to the bin room. Whoever had killed her must have followed her there. She was such a trusting soul - she'd strike up a conversation with anyone - and she had probably been talking to them as she tidied up. She would have put her keys down in the middle of the metre-high bench by the victim's rubbish bin - the only metal one. Which was precisely where the police found them.


    Keys in hand, Mayger, Byrnes and two scientific police went up to Lady Ashton's unit in Sydney's Mosman. The block was clean and well-kept but hardly grand. The unit was beautifully furnished, if a little cluttered. Mayger was fairly sure now that Lady Ashton had been attacked as she arrived home, just as Mrs Mitchelhill had. As they got downstairs, Mayger noticed a group of neighbours being interviewed by local detectives. The area had been sealed off, and there were police cars everywhere - Mayger knew it wouldn't be long before the press turned up.


    Within hours, radio reporters were filing for their morning bulletins. The second old woman in six weeks, and this one the widow of a famous painter. Great story.


    THE HUNT BEGINS
    The next morning, Detective Mike Hagan told a roomful of detectives that the murders of Gwendoline Mitchelhill and Freda Ashton were unofficially linked. There wasn't much to go on: no real clues, no fingerprints, no foreign blood at either scene. That in itself gave some impression of the killer. He was cunning.


    "For one thing, the murders are a kilometre apart," he said. "The old ladies had been shopping and walked home. The killer probably lives locally -he could be a young person on foot."


    What worried Hagan was that the killer had had five weeks to think about the second murder. They had no idea what was driving him to kill. Hagan scanned the faces of the men sitting around him. "It's our job to try and find out, boys."
    The briefing was over.


    BLOOD LUST
    Lady Ashton's post-mortem had been difficult. There were so many injuries. It was Argentinian-born Dr Liliana Schwartz's first homicide as a forensic pathologist in Australia. Her experience with murder was limited. She had attended the scene at 2 am and at 10.30 began the internal examination of the body, opening up three cavities. Earlier she had checked the body's temperature - 29.7 degrees C - the extent of rigor mortis, and whether there was any semen present.


    Schwartz knew strangulation often went hand in hand with rape. But as with Mitchelhill, no semen was detected. She measured the ligature mark around her neck: nine centimetres. Lady Ashton was covered in bruises. They were on her nose and her temple, her neck and both eyelids. And she had bitten the inside of her lips. Of most interest to the doctor was the wound on her cheek, an open cut with a small, semi-circular abrasion a few centimetres from it. Schwartz had learned to distance herself from her job, but she still felt sad because this old lady deserved a more dignified death, not the sort of violence to which she had been subjected. There was something else which disturbed her: the old woman's diamond ring. It looked expensive. Her attacker had obviously not killed her for money. It seemed he had killed her for the love of killing.


    STALKING THE PREY
    Shortly after his mother's death, John Glover's bizarre fascination with old women increased. He was no longer satisfied with merely looking at them; he had an overwhelming urge to touch them. He was both fascinated and repulsed by the nursing homes; room after room of bedridden old women, slowly dying. During his weekday work visits, he had fallen into a habit of wandering through the wards on his way to the kitchen, or the manager's office.


    And now he began to look forward to the Sunday afternoon visits to his mother-in-law, Essie Rolls, because they gave him another legitimate excuse to be in a nursing home. He would sit with her for a while, then he would start to roam, looking in the rooms, searching for the oldest, most frail women he could find. If he found one alone, and if no-one was looking, he would go inside. He just had to touch them; their breasts, a thigh, or buttocks. That the women became distressed or upset was of little consequence. It added to the excitement.


    But his wanderings had not gone unnoticed by the Mosman Nursing Home staff. One Sunday afternoon in December 1988, Glover left Essie and strayed off down the hall. Through one doorway he saw an elderly woman lying on her bed in a nightgown. She was obviously incapacitated and alone. He walked in. She looked up as Glover approached the bed, surprise changing to fear as Glover placed his hand under her nightie and touched her breast. Confused, she tried to call out, "What ..."


    Glover shook his head. "Shhhhh," he whispered. As his hand slid down her body and groped for her underpants, the woman panicked.


    "Sister | Sister |" she managed to call out. Glover backed off and quietly left, but not before a sister, Yvonne Hoskins, saw him dart away.
    Glover had an overwhelming urge just to touch old women, to feel their bare flesh. He was expert at sneaking in and out of rooms at nursing homes and retirement villages. Who would believe these old women if he were caught? He was sure their stories would be treated as the ravings of an aged mind.


    From Neutral Bay to Hornsby in Sydney's far-northern suburbs, Glover went in search of both legitimate business and his own perverse pleasure, which was how he found himself at the Wesley Gardens Retirement Village at Belrose at 12.30 pm on June 28.
    "Are you looking for Mrs Pople?"
    The voice startled him. Glover was standing near a bed in Room 26 of the nursing care section.


    "Um, no," Glover replied. "I've come to see Rob in the kitchen, but I've lost a very valuable gold pen with a chain on it."
    Sister Margaret Whitehead was immediately suspicious. He looked respectable enough, but she'd never seen him before and he was nowhere near the kitchen.


    "Well," she said, "you go back and look in the car park and I'll put an announcement over the loudspeaker."
    There was no response to the call for the pen, so Glover went back to the car park where one of the elderly patients walked each day after lunch. She had been enjoying her walk as Glover approached her from behind ...
    Almost 30 minutes later, the woman appeared in the doorway of the nursing care section. She was crying and very distressed. Sister Whitehead led her to a chair. "Oh Marnie," the woman cried. "You'll never believe what just happened to me. I was up in the top car park and a man touched me on the breast ..."


    STREET ATTACK
    Some weeks later Glover stopped outside the North Haven Retirement Village at Lindfield. He walked down the driveway but could tell he was wasting his time: self-care establishments weren't usually interested in catering products. He was just about to leave when he saw an old lady walking towards the driveway from the street. Glover crossed over and walked towards her. Euphemia Carnie, 81, saw the respectable-looking man in a blue business shirt approaching and thought he was going to ask her a question, so she stopped. He was just one step away when she saw him form a fist with his right hand and before she knew it, she was lying flat on her back on the footpath.


    The single punch to her right upper chest sent her flying backwards and she hit her head as she landed. As she lay on the ground still clutching her walking stick, the man grabbed her groceries and her handbag and she watched, helpless, as he walked quickly to his car and drove off. Glover dumped the bags in a nearby park after pocketing $70 from her purse.


    THE NARROWEST ESCAPE
    On Thursday, November 2, 1989, Glover was heading towards Kamilaroi Retirement Centre, Lane Cove, when he saw the elderly woman struggling along the footpath with several heavy shopping bags. He stopped directly in front of her.


    "Can I carry your bags, madam?" he asked. "They look too heavy for you."
    At first, Dorothy Beencke declined. The 78-year-old widow didn't have far to go. Her unit was in Ridgeway, just down the laneway. Still, the bags were heavy and when the man persisted, she had a good, long look at him. He certainly seemed like a gentleman: well-dressed and healthy for someone of his age, which she guessed was about 65. He had a pleasant face, and looked harmless enough.


    "Very well," she said, having changed her mind. "It's nice to know there are still some gentlemen around."


    "And it's nice to know there are still some ladies around," he replied with easy familiarity. "Now, where are you going?"
    Mrs Beencke smiled: "I live down by Kamilaroi."
    "Lead the way," Glover said, taking her groceries. He followed her off the main road and down the private laneway.
    As they approached the end of the lane, Glover noticed a pool in her front yard.
    "You have a nice pool there. I suppose you swim in it?" he asked.
    "No, I don't use it," she replied.
    When they reached the front door, Glover put down the bags. Mrs Beencke thanked him again and he left.
    Glover had decided he would not harm the old woman. He simply wanted to help her. It was only after his chivalrous gesture that his mood quickly turned bloody.


    NO MERCY
    That same afternoon, Mrs Margaret Pahud had been doing some grocery shopping, so by the time she turned into Longueville Road, heading home, she was struggling under the weight and awkward bulk of two heavy shopping bags.


    As she walked along the footpath, Glover looked up from where he sat in his car across the road. Blood throbbed dully behind his eyes as they tracked the old lady tottering along the footpath. Anger and hatred welled within him, and his pulse began pounding.


    Panting slightly, the old woman turned into the laneway he'd come out of not 15 minutes before. Glover reached under the seat beside him, grabbed the hammer and stepped out of the car. He slipped the hammer into his trousers. The metal was cold against his skin.


    As he stood there, staring at the entrance to the laneway, his rage gave way to a dreadful calm that shut out everything: he heard nothing but his heartbeat, saw only where the woman had disappeared. It was set.
    He crossed the busy street and turned into the lane. The sun was dancing on and off her back as she walked in front of him between the shadows of the overhanging trees. He followed.


    He was within arm's reach when the adrenaline began surging through him. Grabbing the hammer, he lifted it high, and with a grunt smashed it down on her head.


    As she collapsed before him, sprawled face down at his feet, he was filled with a sensation of extraordinary power, of absolute control. He was invincible. He raised the hammer again, side-on - he always hit them side-on -so their skulls wouldn't shatter. That way, the blood would not spray everywhere. With all the force of his 102 kg bulk he brought the hammer down again.


    Her head jolted from the blow, and her face - already grazed and cut and embedded with broken glass from her spectacles - smashed harder against the concrete footpath.
    Glover was breathing hard, his face flushed. He glanced at the hammer before tucking it back down his trousers: no blood, no bits of bone. He bent over the body. He didn't want to see the face, but he had to look at the body. He pulled at her dress, exposing the left shoulder and breast. Then he saw the blood spreading out near his feet. He looked up and down the laneway, his eyes wild.


    It was as if time had stood still and was now rushing back to fill the void. He felt sweat beading on his top lip. Sounds started reaching him: children's voices, lots of them; a school bell; cars, traffic. Glover fought rising panic. He looked over the fence beside him and realised that he was in full view of the retirement village. No time to go through her bags. He grabbed the old lady's handbag, tucked it under his arm and walked briskly away.


    THIRD MURDER
    Any doubts as to whether Mrs Pahud was a third victim of the same killer disappeared at the post-mortem that night. When he saw the wound on Mrs Pahud's shaven head, Mayger knew it was the work of the same man. Earlier, until word had come through from the hospital, he had been hoping that somehow she had died from a heart attack. Now he was upset and angry that another old woman had been murdered. The killer had claimed another life.


    As Mayger drove back to the laneway from the Glebe morgue, his mind was filled with scrambled images of the three dead victims. There had to be something this time, a slip the killer had made - anything that would lead them to him.


    Mayger wandered up the laneway as witnesses were being interviewed. He came across a group of reporters waiting on the other side of the police barrier tape on Longueville Road. One of the reporters struck up a conversation and before long, Mayger heard himself saying, "How many more have to die?"


    About the time Mrs Pahud's body was discovered, Glover had been driving away from the scene. As he passed the Lane Cove Country Club a few minutes later, he pulled over to check his spoils. There was more than $400 in one of the old woman's wallets - money Mrs Pahud had collected to buy theatre tickets for the Legacy club the next day. There was nothing else of value in the handbag.


    He got out of the car, looked around to make sure no-one was watching and then hurled the bag through the air as far as he could. It disappeared down a slope and landed near a stormwater drain on the edge of the ninth tee.
    With the money in his wallet, he walked through the automatic doors of the RSL club, changing the notes for some coins to put through the pokies, carrying his awful secret with the ease of a naughty schoolboy. Then home, for the part he most enjoyed. He strode into the house, as he had so many times before, said hello to his wife Gay, and waited for her usual response: "How was your day?"


    He was tempted to say: "Fine, I just killed somebody up the road a bit" -just to see her reaction. But he didn't. He said hello to the girls, then went upstairs to change his clothes, putting the trousers and shirt he was wearing in the dirty-clothes basket.


    Strolling back downstairs, he felt satisfied. He had just killed an old lady: his day was fulfilled. And as he sat eating dinner with his family, he smiled to himself about his secret life: a Walter Mitty, the dark side, which even his wife of 20 years knew nothing about.


    Glover was sure no-one had seen him. As he lay in the quiet darkness of his room some hours after the killing, he was too excited to sleep. He seemed to have got away with it again.


    ANOTHER VICTIM
    John Glover's blue Falcon was parked opposite the Mosman police station in Prince Albert Road. It was a Thursday evening, November 23, almost three weeks after the murder of Olive Cleveland (Glover's fourth victim).
    He was sitting in the Buena Vista, having checked the specials at the bottle shop. His work was finished for the day. He had discarded his tie, but was still dressed in his work clothes: brown slacks, leather brogues, and shirt. He was in his favourite eyrie at the window, his eyes feasting on the passers-by, when he saw her. Muriel Falconer was on the opposite side of the street to the hotel, walking slowly. He watched her, contempt welling inside.


    He left his beer on the table half-drunk and, hitching up his slacks, walked across the road to the car. There was plenty of time. He would take the hammer. He picked up the pair of cream-and-green-striped gardening gloves from the glove box, pushing one in each pocket of his slacks. His fingers closed on the solid, rounded handle under the driver's seat. He felt the reassuring weight of the hammer. Unbuttoning his shirt, he leant forward and placed it inside his shirt, the handle securely held by his belt. His tools of the trade. He felt very calm; he was in no rush.


    Glover walked to the intersection where he had first seen her. Muriel Falconer was only metres away, walking down Raglan Street, the same street where he had killed Lady Ashton all those months before. He placed himself behind her, ambling, a grey-haired man in a grey-haired suburb, utterly ordinary on an utterly ordinary day. It was late afternoon - shortly before 5 pm. He would still be home at his regular hour - in time for the 6 pm television news. The timing was perfect.


    She was tall, her gaunt frame draped in a pink cardigan over a shapeless, brown-striped dress as she shuffled ahead of him, her walking stick seeking out the pavement, her other hand carrying a cane shopping bag.
    He was enjoying this thoroughly, the knowledge that she would soon be lying sprawled before him, that she had no say. Her death was predestined.
    Glover watched his prey turn left into Muston Street. Surely she would not have too far to go now. She would not be walking if she lived much further away. His eyes were fixed upon her; cars passed in the street, everyday faraway noises, detached from him. His hands grew icy and his breathing became laboured.


    She crossed the road diagonally and stopped at a black iron gate. It was an old, single-standing, Federation house, screened from the street by a 1.8 metr e-high privet hedge and a small brick wall. She opened the gate and went inside. He slowed his pace further, giving her time to get to the front door and to open it. He opened the gate and went in ...
    On March 19, 1990, John Glover murdered his sixth and final victim, his lover, Joan Sinclair, in her home. After her death, he attempted suicide, drinking whisky and taking sedatives until he passed out. After staking out Mrs Sinclair's house for more than seven hours, police entered the house and found Joan Sinclair's battered body in the hallway, and Glover in the bath -near death. Glover was subsequently charged and convicted with all six Granny Killings. He is now imprisoned in Lithgow Jail, his file marked "Never to Be Released". Gay has not divorced her husband, but no member of his family has visited John Glover in almost four years.
    From The Killer Next Door by Lindsay Simpson and Sandra Harvey, to be published by Random House Australia on April 29; rrp $16.95.


    HOW THE AUTHORS FOUND THE REAL JOHN GLOVER
    We (Lindsay Simpson and Sandra Harvey) first met while covering the Milperra Father's Day Massacre bikie court case in September 1984. Over dinner at a restaurant we agreed to write a book about this Sydney massacre in which seven people died and which we were covering for our respective news organisations. That book was Brothers in Arms.
    We collaborated again on the story of Megan Kalajzich's murder in Sydney, My Husband My Killer. While researching the book, we travelled to Yugoslavia and stayed in the village on the Adriatic whence Andrew Kalajzich's family had come, and met some of his relatives. Because we write in the style of Truman Capote's classic study of a murder, In Cold Blood - from each character's point of view - our research involves getting to know how the characters think. It was a style we used in the search for The Killer Next Door.


    Researching The Killer Next Door involved two years of treks to three jails where John Glover was kept after being convicted of six murders. During those visits, Glover initially refused to talk about the murders, but as we won his confidence we were able to ask him all sorts of intimate details.
    The first time we interviewed Glover was at Long Bay jail, where we called in without warning. We were searched and interviewed in a small room before being allowed to see him, the authorities being obviously suspicious about our interest. Then we had a long walk down a narrow corridor to the outside visiting area where he was able to watch us as we walked towards him.


    The first handshake was firm, his manner charming, as he chatted about clues for the crossword he was doing. Neither of us could take our eyes off his hands - small, freckled, but immensely powerful. Later, he even demonstrated how he would hit the elderly women: "With 16-stone coming crashing down on them, they didn't stand a chance."
    When he speaks about the murders, his face changes, almost as if it is the voice of that other personality he talks about. "One side of me was all right. The other side is dark, evil," he has said.
    In that other personality, he folds his arms protectively in front of him, raises his chin bullishly and for a few moments it seems you can see the face he must have shown his victims: cold, arrogant - the face of an executioner.

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    Default Granny killer found dead in cell

    Granny killer found dead in cell


    September 9, 2005,

    One of Sydney's most notorious serial killers is believed to have hanged himself in his maximum security prison cell today.


    John Wayne Glover, 72 - known as the Granny Killer - was found in his Lithgow jail cell and pronounced dead at 1.25pm (AEST), a NSW Corrective Services spokesman said.


    He had been serving life without parole for the murder of six elderly women on Sydney's north shore between 1989 and 1990.


    In May he collapsed in his cell and was placed on suicide watch after telling prison officers: "I've had enough - I want to kill myself."


    At that time he was assessed by a mental health review team and monitored by closed circuit television, receiving a complete medical check-up, having undergone two operations in previous years for cancer.


    The former Mosman pie salesman, who was born in the Midlands of England in 1932, was caught after being found close to death in the bath of his sixth victim, Joan Violet Sinclair, 60, a friend of Glover's.


    His oldest victim was 93, although police believe he was responsible for four other murders.


    Sentencing him to a true life sentence in 1991, Justice James Wood said: This is a case where the prisoner will never be released."


    Corrective Services say a report will now be prepared for the coroner.
    "We are confirming that he was found dead in his cell believed to have hung himself," the spokesman said.


    During the trial, a detective told the court that after his arrest, Glover admitted: ``I can't help myself.''


    Years after his conviction, in an interview with Lindsay Simpson and Sandra Harvey for their book, The Killer Next Door, Glover said: ``It never occurred to me to worry about who they were, or why I killed them ... if I saw their photos in the paper they meant nothing to me.''


    ``I wanted to stop killing, but couldn't, no matter what,'' Glover said.
    ``As the killing was over, I returned to a normal life and I didn't think about them,'' he said.


    Other serial killers who have got true life sentences:
    * Ivan Milat serving life for killing seven backpackers between 1989-92..
    * James Miller serving life for killing six young women abducted, raped, strangled and buried in bushland near Truro, SA in 1976-77.

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    Default Mystery woman pays for killer's funeral

    Mystery woman pays for killer's funeral

    September 18, 2005,



    A female friend has claimed the body of "Granny Killer" John Wayne Glover, saving him from the ignominy of a pauper's funeral.


    The identity of the mysterious Sydney woman has become a closely guarded secret since she contacted Lithgow police late last week to signal her intention of paying for the funeral.


    One of Australia's worst serial killers, Glover, 72, hanged himself earlier this month in Lithgow jail where he was serving life for the murders of six elderly women on Sydney's North Shore in 1989 and 1990.


    It is expected the private funeral will be held late this week or early next week, in either Sydney or Lithgow.


    Since his death, no one had come forward to claim the body, including his former wife, Gay, and his two daughters, Kellie and Marnie.


    Authorities had begun searching for other relatives in the hope that taxpayers would not have to fund a public burial.


    A post-mortem examination was conducted on Wednesday and Westmead Coroner's Court had written to one surviving relative, believed to be Glover's elderly sister. Without anyone willing to claim the body, the Coroner would have been forced to arrange a public burial.


    housands of people are buried in unmarked paupers' graves at Sydney's Rookwood Independent Cemetery.

    As many as 15 are buried each month, with up to six buried atop each other in each plot. Either their bodies are unidentified, they have not been claimed by friends or family or relatives could not meet the costs.
    There are no flowers, no newspaper notices and often no mourners at a public funeral, which costs $2000.


    A private funeral for Glover will cost more than $5000.
    The only person to visit Glover in prison in recent years was retired Detective Inspector Dennis O'Toole, who maintained the killer was also responsible for a spate of unsolved murders involving elderly women.


    But his secrets go to the grave with him. His death also means closure for those who thought they knew him.


    His wife and daughters were shocked and horrified when he was charged. Mrs Glover reportedly changed her name after he was sentenced and never visited him in prison.


    "It was incomprehensible," she once told a magazine. "Neither [my eldest daughter nor I] could believe what they were saying. I can't remember my exact words - something like, 'You've got to be joking.'


    "We raced to get home. My younger daughter was there asleep. We had to break the news to her. I just remember sitting there, the girls and I, in one of the bedrooms, just stunned."

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    Default Timeline of murder

    Timeline of murder



    Glover's victims


    March 1, 1989, in Mosman: Gwendolin Louise Mitchelhill, 82,


    May 9, 1989 in Mosman: Lady Winifred Isabelle Ashton, 82


    November 2, 1889 in Lane Cove: Margaret Frances Pahud, 85


    November 3, 1989 in Belrose: Olive Cleveland, 81


    November 23, 1989 in Mosman: Muriel Beryl Falconer, 92


    March 19, 1990 in Mosman: Joan Violet Sinclair, 60

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