The first European traders arrived at the mouth of the Whanganui River in 1831, followed by missionaries in 1840. Around that time, the settlement of Wellington was becoming overcrowded so the New Zealand Company began to look for other areas suitable for settlement. Edward Jerningham Wakefield looked north to a Maori settlement on the banks of a river, which was wide enough to accommodate large ships. Wakefield negotiated to buy 40,000 acres of land on the river in 1841. The settlement was christened Petre but its name was officially changed to Wanganui in 1854.
Just north of Wanganui several canny businessmen bought a block of land and soon a hotel, racetrack and a variety of small businesses sprang up. The settlement took the name Aramoho. The town grew further when the government decided that the Wellington–New Plymouth railway line would pass through it.
In 1887, the Aramoho Junction railway station was opened. The railway had attracted huge number of workers to the community. Over the next few decades, Aramoho gradually became a suburb of Wanganui and alongside the railway workers came a new generation of entrepreneurs and innovators. Among the young entrepreneurs was William Reuben Martin Oates.
Oates was born in Wellington in 1886. During the first years of the twentieth century, his parents decided to leave New Zealand for Melbourne. Not wanting to follow, the teenage Oates moved to Wanganui having secured employment as a delivery boy for Kernohan’s Grocers and Provision Merchants Limited, a well-established grocery store in the heart of the town.
For several years he toiled away learning the intricacies of the grocery trade and worked his way up from being a delivery boy to working on the shop floor and then taking over some of the store’s administration work. In 1909, he left Kernohan’s and went to work as a house steward at Wanganui Hospital. During his time there, William met his future wife.
Born in Palmerston North in 1891, Margaret Henry came from a well-to-do family. She met William when her sister married one of his cousins. The pair soon fell in love and married in Palmerston North in 1915. The marriage disappointed some Wanganui locals who had seen Oates as a potential suitor for their daughters.
It didn’t take long before William’s friends warmed to his new wife. Margaret was quiet, humble and attractive and she was quickly accepted into the community, attending all civic events that might help further her husband’s standing.
Although his job at Wanganui Hospital was secure and well paid, Oates desperately wanted to manage his own business. He pluckily approached an old family friend and successful businessman named Walter Hedges, and asked him for financial assistance. Oates quickly convinced his old friend to help finance him into a small grocery store in the up-and-coming suburb of Aramoho. Hedges could see the economic potential of the venture, but had no interest in working as he only recently retired. It was agreed Oates would manage the day-to-day running of the store while Hedges would be principal shareholder and accountant.
The store opened as WR Oates and Company on 1 June 1920. Oates employed three assistants and one delivery boy. His small shop was the only grocery store in Aramoho so it was consistently busy and he enjoyed a loyal patronage. William Oates knew the names of nearly all of his customers and took a genuine interest in their lives and well-being.
Oates was popular and was regarded as one of the borough’s leading lights—not only was he the local store owner but he was also captain of the local cricket club. Handsome, energetic, friendly and always smiling, William Oates loved his life in Wanganui.
While keeping normal trading hours during the week, Oates kept the store open until 8.30 on Friday nights. Fridays were always the busiest days for trading as it was pay day and many of the locals shopped for the weekend or the week ahead. It was also the day when people would come in and pay off their accounts. Oates, like many shopkeepers at the time, allowed many of his customers to book up items during the week and repay him at the end of the week.
At the end of each day’s trade, the three shop assistants would cash up their respective tills and hand the takings over to Oates before leaving for the night. Oates then put the cash in a brown canvas bag and finished locking up the store. Then, taking the bag with him, he would cycle the 800 metres to his house in Somme Parade, which Margaret’s parents had helped the couple buy in 1921.
At home he would have supper with his wife and tally up the day’s takings before going to bed. In the morning, he would take the money bag back to the shop before giving it to old man Hedges, who would come in each day to do the banking.
Like any other Friday, 26 October 1923 was busy in the store. From midday onwards, the railway workers began coming in to make their purchases and settle their accounts. The store remained busy until about 5pm and then quietened down until the last minute shoppers arrived between 7pm and 8pm. These were usually late shift workers or families finishing shopping after having attended the late afternoon session at the cinema.
On nights the store was open late, Margaret Oates would walk from their home on Somme Parade to bring dinner to her husband. They would then sit in the rear of the store and dine together. Occasionally William would have to go and attend to customers in the shop and Margaret would wait patiently for her husband to return.
At about 6pm, on 26 October, Margaret Oates arrived at the shop with her Sydney Silky terrier, to deliver a picnic basket containing dinner for her husband. She walked through the store towards the back room, stopping briefly to exchange pleasantries with shop staff. Out the back, she laid the food out on a fresh tablecloth and arranged two plates and tea mugs. The shop was still quite busy but Oates was able to slip away and enjoy some quiet time with his wife only having to return to the shop floor twice. This gave Margaret the chance to read the day’s newspaper and, upon William’s return, the pair giggled at the day’s comic supplement.
Margaret was extremely happy. Her mother was due to arrive from Palmerston North the next day for a week’s holiday. The couple talked about what they were going to do with Mrs Henry and they discussed what to have for tea the next night.
Margaret was slightly anxious because she had not yet made up the spare bedroom as she had only just washed the sheets that day and they weren’t fully dry on account of the rain. William reassured her that she would be able to sort this out first thing next morning and said he was confident the house would be spick-and-span when Mrs Henry arrived.
Delivery boy Albert Trangmar finished up at 7.15pm. As he walked out, he bade Margaret Oates goodnight and she smiled at him but made no reply. Around 8pm, the shop started to fill with customers and William Oates returned to the shop floor. Margaret spent ten minutes tidying up then walked out of the store closely followed by her small dog. As she left called out, ‘Goodbye dear and don’t be long coming home!’
By 8.15pm, most customers had left the store so Oates began tidying up in preparation for closure. The tills were closed off and orders were filled ready delivery the next morning.
The assistants, Leslie Rush and William Franklin, left at different times between 8.30pm and 9pm with James Louisson being the last to leave. Louisson was a loyal employee and friend of Oates who had been employed at the store since it opened.
William Oates was the last to leave the shop. He collected the day’s takings and carefully bundled them into his bag along with the latest copy of the Sydney Referee and two grocery journals. Oates locked the door to the store and walked out around 9.25pm. He placed the canvas bag in the basket on the front of his bicycle and cycled home.
Around 9.30pm, Oates passed the Aramoho Post Office and noticed the tram slowly approaching the tram stop in Field Street. Oates tipped his hat in greeting to Tom Rufford, who was seated in the rear of the tram, and called out ‘Good night Tom,’ as he cycled past. Rufford did not acknowledge him but later said he heard someone on a bike call out to him, but he couldn’t see who it was as it was dark.
Oates arrived at his home at 232 Somme Parade around 9.40pm. The house was modest and well kept. It was situated 13 metres from the street. The back verandah was covered in creepers and there were large shrubs separating it from the house next door. Behind the house was a large well-kept section complete with vegetable garden. On the lower side was a belt of high pine trees which made the section private and not able to be viewed from the road.
Oates opened his front gate and whistled as he walked his bike around to the back of the house. It was dark and strangely quiet. Usually the dog would bark upon hearing his whistle, but Oates heard nothing. He hoisted his bike up onto the verandah, carefully leaning it against the outside wall of the washhouse. It was his usual custom to bring the canary in when he arrived home but the canary cage was not out on the verandah.
Oates opened the kitchen door and walked inside. The gas light was burning. He heard a slight shuffle and thought it was the dog coming to greet him. Just as he opened his mouth to greet his wife, he was suddenly struck on the back of his head with a heavy weapon. The force of the blow made Oates’ knees buckle and he slammed into the wall. He managed to turn around while putting his hands up in defence, but was quickly struck again, this time above the right eye. The force of this second blow completely knocked Oates off his feet and he hit the floor. The sudden attack left him dazed but he had to defend himself.
The room was dark and his eyes were welling up with blood, but Oates could just make out the form but not the face of his attacker. As he tried to get up, Oates’ head took another blow. He desperately lashed out and kicked the attacker in his chest knocking him back against the wall. The offender was quick to recover and rained blow upon blow on Oates’ arms and legs. Oates continued kicking wildly and fought to remain conscious. Then, all of a sudden, he heard the back door close and realised that his attacker had fled. The attack was over as quickly as it started.
Oates could barely believe what had just happened. His head throbbed. His whole body was soaked with sweat and blood was pouring from his wounds. As he attempted to steady himself on the kitchen sink he slipped in a large pool of blood, which he assumed was from his own wounds.
Disorientated and unable to find the light switch in the dark, Oates staggered out the back door to ensure his assailant was gone. While standing there he noticed that his canvas bag with the day’s takings had been taken.
Certain that the attacker was gone, Oates went in search of his wife. He staggered through the kitchen, calling out, ‘Margaret! Margaret! Everything will be all right!’
As he opened the door from the kitchen to the hall, he noticed the door was off its runner. He could not hear the dog. Immediately panic set in. Striking a match, he noticed a trail of blood on the passage floor leading to the second bedroom. Then he noticed his wife lying on the floor in a large pool of blood.
Oates raced outside and bounded over the fence to his neighbour, Arthur Pepper. But the Pepper family were not home.
Sydney Dobbins, who lived across the road at 229 Somme Parade, was preparing for bed when he heard persistent knocking at his door. He opened it and saw William Oates holding a blood soaked towel to his head and his face covered in open wounds.
‘Oh, Mr Dobbins! I’ve been knocked out and robbed and my poor girl is murdered! I’m sure she’s murdered.’
Dobbins sat Oates down on his front doorstep and rushed inside to call the police. He then returned to his injured neighbour who was desperate to return to his wife’s side. Dobbins helped Oates along the street and the pair went inside the house. Striking a match, Dobbins noticed trails of blood on the kitchen floor leading to the passage way. A chair next to the dining table had been knocked over.
On the floor of the spare bedroom they found Margaret Oates. She was still alive but breathing laboriously. Her head was covered in a towel that appeared to have been forced into her mouth as a gag. Dobbins attempted to remove the towel then, upon noticing the extent of her injuries, changed his mind.
As Dobbins was about to go home and call a doctor, Oates walked back into the room holding a loaded double-barrel shotgun. Dobbins attempted to persuade Oates to hand it over, but he refused. Dobbins thought better of trying to force it off him. He followed Oates outside, where the distraught man sat down, nursing the gun and mumbling incoherently.
Dobbins raced home and telephoned the local doctor.
At 9.55pm, Dobbins’ call was put through to Constable Bob Sims at the Dublin Street police station. Satisfied a doctor had been called, Sims picked up Oates’ business partner, Walter Hedges, and the pair drove to Somme Parade. There they found Sydney Dobbins trying to calm the bloodstained Oates who, upon seeing them, cried ‘My God constable, this is cruel. My wife has been murdered and he has got away!’
Hedges ran up to console the distraught man while Sims gently prised the shotgun from his grasp.
Having secured the firearm, the policeman made his way inside. When Sims got to her, Margaret Oates was still alive. A thick trail of blood showed she had been dragged from the kitchen, along the passage way into the room where she now lay. The bedroom was dark so the constable tried to locate a light but it appeared the gas jet had been dismantled.
Dr Wilson was the next to arrive. He had worked with William Oates at Wanganui Hospital and he knew the couple well. Seeing his friend arrive, Oates cried out hysterically for Wilson to help his wife.
When Dr Wilson got to Margaret, her breathing was shallow and her right arm and leg were in spasms. Her left arm appeared to be paralysed. Her body was fully extended and the towel covering her head was completely soaked with blood. Wilson smelt the towel for traces of chloroform, but there was none. Alongside Margaret lay her little Sydney Silky terrier, which had also been viciously beaten. He had probably leapt to the defence of his mistress and been bashed.
Arthur Pepper was Oates’ immediate neighbour. He arrived home around 10.15pm and walked up the front steps to his home. As Pepper unlocked the door, he noticed blood on the door knob leading to a trail down the door to the ground. Panicking, he ran inside and checked all the rooms. Nothing. He raced along the road in time to see the ambulance arrive at the Oates household. He asked what he could do to help. Walter Hedges replied that everything was under control. Pepper said that Margaret Oates’ mother was due to arrive the next morning. Hedges suggested Pepper telephone Mrs Henry as soon as they knew the extent of Margaret’s injuries.
As Margaret’s beaten body was removed from the house to the waiting ambulance, the injured terrier sat up and attempted to follow his mistress. Once outside the house, he awkwardly bounded towards the ambulance but collapsed at the roadside and died.
Margaret Oates was admitted to Wanganui Hospital at 11.10pm, and was treated by Dr Allen and hospital staff. She was unconscious and her breathing was laboured. She was pallid with a very weak pulse. Her head and chest were heavily bloodstained. Doctors Hutson and Allen carried out a full examination on the injuries she sustained and at the same time tried to keep her alive.
The doctors’ notes described Margaret Oates as having a lacerated irregular wound to the frontal bone. Her brain had been punctured and lacerated and was protruding. A small piece of bone was completely separated and was lying on the brain substance. There were also another three star-shaped wounds on her head. It was believed the injuries were caused by a heavy blunt instrument.
Walter Hedges drove William Oates to the hospital. He was examined by Dr Allen and found to have a wound in the top of his head. He had been struck with considerable force by a blunt instrument. Surprisingly, his skull was not fractured. There was no question of the injuries being self-inflicted.
The doctor believed that if Oates had not been wearing his hat when he was first struck, the initial blow would have probably killed him. Drifting in and out of consciousness, Oates continued sobbing hysterically, begging the medical staff to do everything to save his wife. His pleas were in vain. Margaret Oates died at 12.40am. She was 32 years old.
In the early hours, Walter Hedges telephoned Arthur Pepper to inform him that Margaret Oates had died. Pepper then rang Mrs Henry to tell her the bad news. In shock and disbelief, Mrs Henry rang her other daughter and the pair drove through the night to Wanganui.
A full post mortem was carried out the following afternoon. Doctors confirmed that as a result of her head injuries, a large haematoma in the mid-occipital region of her brain had developed, and the blood vessels in her brain had congested.
A body inspection showed her thorax, abdomen and pelvis had not sustained injury. There was no blood or marks on her hands, which indicated there had been no struggle. Additionally, her under-clothing had not been disarranged and there was no sign of any sexual attack. The post mortem concluded that Margaret Oates probably died from the effect of her first injury compounded by shock.
Police sealed the crime scene. A call was placed through to Wellington Police Detective branch to inform them a serious attack had taken place. Detective Sergeant Donald Cameron of Wellington Police was already in Wanganui so was dispatched take charge of the scene.
Chief Detective Kemp and Detective Walsh, along with fingerprint expert Senior Sergeant Dinnie were ordered to travel immediately from Wellington to Wanganui. They arrived in Wanganui before dawn on Saturday 27 October and immediately set to work. When they arrived they found they were dealing with a murder investigation.
A room-by-room inspection of the Oates’ house was undertaken and it was confirmed no money or jewellery had been taken from any of the rooms. In fact, the amount of 13s.3d was sitting on the mantelpiece and Margaret Oates’ jewellery was found in a bedroom drawer.
The main bedroom Margaret Oates shared with her husband had not been tidied and it appeared the beds had not been made since that morning. The bed in the spare room didn’t have sheets on it and the blankets were in a pile at the foot of the bed, probably because Margaret Oates was preparing the room for her mother.
The police attempted to reconstruct what happened based on the state of the house and the evidence before them. There were several sheets hanging on the clothesline outside. There was a pile of dry washing in a heap on the washhouse floor.
The canary—which William Oates would usually bring inside when he came home—was in a cage in the kitchen. Margaret Oates probably brought it inside when she returned home from the store around 9pm.
On nights when her husband worked late, Margaret would prepare supper for him. On the dining table there was half a loaf of bread, some butter, two plates and two mugs. There was also a small box of chocolates. The Truth newspaper was open with another magazine underneath it. Margaret Oates had probably been sitting at the kitchen table with her back to the door when her attacker had sneaked into the kitchen.
Judging from her injuries, he must have struck while she was still seated. A kitchen chair had been knocked over and a scuffle ensued. There was a large pool of blood on the floor by the pantry door where she must have initially fallen. From this pool a trail of blood led through the door into the passage way, where there was another pool of blood. There were also blood spatters up the wall. She was struck again here and then dragged into the bedroom, where she was struck again.
This was the darkest room in the house—there was a gas light in the room but it was not working. The attacker must have felt confident that he wouldn’t be seen from the street while he was carrying out his crime. At some point, the killer wrapped a towel around Margaret Oates’ head either in an attempt to gag her or in order to drag her from the kitchen. The carpet runner in the passage was disarranged, a telltale sign of a body being dragged.
Police believed that after carrying out his brutal attack on Margaret Oates, the assailant had waited in the washhouse until he heard William Oates arrive home. He then followed Oates into the kitchen before carrying out his brutal attack. The assailant is then thought to have rushed out the back door, snatching the canvas bag containing the day’s takings as he went. Where could he have gone?
Both Oates’ and Dobbins’ properties backed onto the property of William Webb at 5 Field Street. Webb told police that it would take a very active man to bound over the six-foot high fence that separated the properties. He also said he had heard nothing unusual all evening. If this was true, the assailant must have walked out the front gate and along Somme Parade without attracting any attention.
Police checked the ground for any telltale signs of someone leaving in a hurry, but found no marks.
By the time most residents woke the next morning, police were carrying out their scene examination. Word of what had happened spread quickly, and by midmorning on Saturday, Somme Parade had attracted a huge number of curious sightseers.
Detectives went door-to-door talking to neighbours. Arthur Pepper, whose house had been William Oates’ first port of call, Pepper told police that he had already been living in Somme Parade when the Oates moved in two years earlier and relations were cordial. He also said that whenever he had his kitchen and living room lights on they threw a strong light right into Oates’ kitchen and spare bedroom, as well as a good part of the backyard. Pepper said that when these lights were on, he could see right into the house.
In the past there had been minor disagreements between Pepper and Oates because Pepper was prone to staying up late with the lights on, or having late parties, which annoyed his neighbours as they were trying to sleep. He assured police that the arguments were not serious and the pair bore no grudges.
Arthur Pepper and his family had gone out to do their weekly shopping at about 6.50pm. Once they’d finished their shopping, they went to the pictures. It was highly unusual for the whole family to be out in the evening. Pepper said that had he been home, he would have heard the dog bark or heard any movement as the two houses were so close together. He also thought he would have been able to see the attack as the Oates didn’t have curtains on the side or rear windows of their house and his lights would have lit the kitchen and bedroom.
Pepper was devastated that on the rare evening that he decided to go out, his neighbour was viciously attacked and killed. He couldn’t help but wonder if the attack would have happened if he’d stayed home.
About 60 metres from the Oates’ house, there was a tram stop, which was lit by an electric street light that lit an area of about 90 metres, including the front yard of 232 Somme Parade. This had not deterred the killer.
The owner of a confectionary store on the corner of Somme Parade and Glasgow Street told police that on the afternoon of the murder, a strange man called in to the shop to borrow a pencil, which she duly lent him. One hour later he returned with £1 cash to pay for it. At around 8pm, she had been in the sitting room at the rear of her store, when she saw the man she had served earlier leave the shop and walk quickly along the street carrying something in his arms. She called out to him, but he did not answer. She returned to her shop and noticed the money from the till had gone. Was this in any way connected to the killing? The woman provided a description, but police were unable to link it to a suspect.
A number of people were interviewed and asked what they knew of Oates’ business. Arthur Pepper told police he had been at a euchre party some months back and heard someone mention that Oates took the takings home with him each night. Pepper could not remember who had said it or who else had been at the party. He said he thought at the time that, if the rumour was true, Oates was a target to be robbed.
There were a few people that actually knew Oates’ habits and it appears he did nothing to conceal the fact he took home the takings each night. Oates was always the last to leave the shop. Therefore anybody could have easily observed his habits and movements without arousing suspicion.
When police interviewed Walter Hedges, another more sinister factor came into play. He told them that he had been on holiday for a week and while he was away no one was banking the takings. Oates took the money home each night and took it back to the shop the following morning amassing quite a sum. At the last minute, Hedges had decided to return a day early, and dropped by Friday morning to bank the four-day backlog of takings. If Hedges had stayed away the extra night as he had planned, then Oates would have had much more in his bag the night his wife was killed. Perhaps the killer knew of Hedges’ holiday and his original date of return?
The murder sent shockwaves through Wanganui. Residents recalled the unsolved murder of an elderly Chinese market gardener named Chow Yat, who had been shot dead a year earlier in nearby Long Acre.
There were no similarities between the murders, but townsfolk quickly began comparing the two, and rumours quickly spread that there was a brutal killer on the loose. Newspaper reports told of women afraid to leave their homes, and men neglecting evening meetings to stay home and guard their families.
While this may have been exaggerated reporting, there was real fear on the streets of Wanganui and a lack of confidence in the police. They had not brought Chow’s killer to justice, and it looked like Margaret Oates’ killer was also going to remain free. Police tried to allay fears by stating publicly that the killings were in no way related, and that they were confident of finding both killers. Despite their assurances, townsfolk were sceptical.
The attack on William Oates and the murder of his wife drew a great deal of sympathy from the Wanganui public. Margaret’s funeral was held on 28 October in Palmerston North. There was a large crowd in attendance but her husband—who was still in a serious condition in hospital—was unable to attend. All cricket matches in Wanganui were cancelled that day as a mark of respect and each of the borough’s cricket clubs sent wreaths.
William Oates was released from hospital on 2 November 1923. He received plenty of support from the community, who rallied around to assist in providing housekeeping, meals and company. But there was also a cruel element spreading malicious gossip. Police received anonymous letters saying that William Oates had murdered his wife in order to collect insurance money. In various letters, Oates was said to have a mistress and was planning on sailing to Australia with her; that his business was failing and that he would profit from his wife’s death.
Despite having expert evidence that Oates’ injuries could not have been self-inflicted, police had to grudgingly put the accusations to the grieving widower. Oates emphatically denied having any involvement in his wife’s murder. Margaret Oates’ life was not insured, the business was thriving in spite of the recession and he had already paid two thirds off the mortgage so they were financially secure.
Oates was astounded at the heartless accusations and could not believe the cruelty of people, some of whom could have even been his own customers. Over the years he had given his time and energy to the people of Wanganui and loved the borough. He grew extremely bitter and could not bear to return to his store. He viewed every male customer as a possible killer and women as suspected gossipmongers.
Police received numerous anonymous letters suggesting far-fetched theories and naming unlikely suspects. One letter led police to interview a man in Turakina, some twenty kilometres from Wanganui, who was flashing money around, and had drunkenly boasted he killed a woman. After an intensive grilling, the man was able to confirm he had not left Turakina on the night in question. His movements were corroborated by workmates who also said the man often mouthed-off whenever he was on the booze.
Wellington police followed up on all known violent offenders. A ship’s captain informed them of a sailor who had handed over the sum of £100 for safe-keeping. This sailor had never had this kind of money before, and it was reported that he had been seen carrying a bloodstained handkerchief. But when interviewed, the sailor was able to prove that he had been on a train when the murder was committed. He also had proof of the withdrawal of £100 from his savings account a few days before the murder. The bloodstained handkerchief was explained as a tourniquet following an accident on board ship. He was cleared of any involvement.
Police interviewed hundreds of people but could not progress the investigation. Public sentiment towards Wanganui police was at an all time low. Truth published a cynical response to Wanganui grumblings, praising police for doing their ‘level best and working all hours under the sun in the relentless pursuit of the killer’. However reporters continued to publish incorrect information. The following article was published in Truth in mid-November.
The story goes that two small boys were engaged on the night of the tragedy in catching moths that were hovering around the lights in the street near the home of the victims of the murder.
A stranger passed under the lights. Indeed the boys, intent on the pursuit of the moths, collided with the man. They got a good look at him and were observant enough to pick his picture when the Album of the Rogue’s Gallery was shown to them for the purposes of identification.
For the story of the small boys was one of the things the police of Wanganui traced, with the results recorded.
The police in a southern centre were communicated with for this rogue and vagabond was known to be loose footed. Yes he had been seen in that town, but he had moved north. Probably to Wanganui.
The two boys saw him following the woman who was afterwards murdered, but they were not near enough or they were too intent on their sport to hear a scream—if the woman had a chance to give such a warning or call.
But inquire and search they, never so skilfully or painstakingly, the police have not been able to get a trace of this rogue. But they will get him yet.
Little of this was factual. The boys had seen a woman walk past them and then they had bumped into a man. But the timing of these events ruled out the possibility that it was Mrs Oates they had seen. Despite this, reporters seized on the information and sensationalised it to the extreme.
The article did raise some questions that had baffled police: Did the killer deliberately follow Margaret Oates home, or was he already waiting for her there? Had he attacked her mistakenly thinking it was her husband?
Police were certain the attack was motivated by robbery. Staff of W Oates and Co told them it was common knowledge that Oates carried the takings home each night. Oates was robbed on a Friday which was a naturally busy night. Why did he choose this particular night to strike? Was it a coincidence Oates was robbed during the week Hedges was away? Did the assailant plan the robbery thinking Oates would clear a substantial sum on Friday night to add to his already full balance?
He must have been quite familiar with procedures to know the banking was not going to be done. Nobody—not even Oates—was aware of Hedges’ decision to return early from holiday. Had Hedges not returned, the assailant would have got away with a much larger sum.
Did the assailant have prior knowledge of the layout of the Oates’ house? He entered through the back door, which was Oates’ normal habit when he arrived home from work. He avoided the rooms that would have been lit up if the neighbours turned their lights on. Did he know that the light was broken in the bedroom where he left Margaret?
This leads to another question: Did the assailant also know Arthur Pepper was going to be away from home that night? Pepper told police he rarely left home at night, but on the night of the murder relented to family pressure to take them to the pictures. Evidently his decision to go out was made spontaneously.
Had Pepper been home, he would normally be sitting at his kitchen table at the time the murder occurred. His lights would have illuminated the Oates’ home and he would have seen the attack on Mrs Oates unfold. Pepper was never regarded as a suspect in the murder as he had been with his family for the whole evening.
Was Margaret Oates’ killing a case of mistaken identity, or was it part of the plan for her to be attacked? Margaret Oates had no control over the grocery business and never handled the cash. When she left the store that night, the tills had not been cashed up and the store remained open for another half hour.
Police assumed the assailant had followed her home, killed her and lain in wait to attack her husband. Police thought it unlikely that he had broken in as there were no telltale signs of forced entry.
It seems more reasonable that the killer thought that William Oates was already home. He may have known it was Oates’ custom to bring the canary in from the verandah each night. On the night of the murder had Margaret brought it in on account of the bad weather? Upon seeing that the canary was not outside, the killer may have thought Oates was already home.
When Margaret left the shop she was wearing her hat and coat. After the murder, these items were found in her closet. If the killer had lain in wait at home, it is likely he would have attacked her as she walked in the door. It is unlikely he would have allowed her to hang up her coat, fold some sheets, and then spend time in the kitchen preparing supper. Police continued their investigations but yielded no answers to these questions.
The Member of Parliament for Wanganui, Mr Veitch wrote to the Minister of Justice urging him to increase the reward for information leading to the identity of the murderer from £250 to £1000, but the government were reluctant, preferring to leave it to police to find the killer. When the minister learned that police were struggling to make headway in the case, a compromise was reached, and the reward was increased to £500. It made no difference.
The inquest into the murder of Margaret Emily Oates began at Wanganui District Court on Thursday 23 November 1923, presided over by Mr JS Barton SM.
Albert Trangmar, James Louisson, Leslie Rush and William Franklin all testified that it had been an ordinary Friday night, and that Margaret Oates brought in dinner as was her custom, leaving at about 8.15pm. They told how they assisted Oates in tidying up before leaving the store between 8.30pm and 9.10pm. They all knew Oates would have taken the day’s takings home with him.
Dobbins, Hedges and Pepper also gave testimony about their respective relationships with Oates and of their recollections of the night of the murder.
Dr Allen described in detail how Margaret Oates’ skull had been broken in four places.
Dr Hutson said it was his belief that the weapon was a heavy wooden instrument rather than an iron bar because the bruising to William Oates’ body was not consistent with those caused by blows of an iron bar.
Still swathed in bandages and badly bruised, William Oates took the stand and emotionally recounted how he had met Margaret and how they had been very happily married. He recounted his movements the night of the attacks and told of finding his wife injured.
Detective Sergeant Cameron represented the police and testified that, despite an intensive investigation, they had been unable to secure an arrest. At the time of the inquest there was no firm suspect in mind.
The coroner found that the deceased, Margaret Emily Oates, had been murdered by some person unknown between 8pm and 10pm, on the night of Friday, October 26 1923, at her residence, with the actual death occurring at the Wanganui Hospital shortly after midnight. The cause of death was from shock following a fracture of the skull and laceration of the brain.
After the inquest, information trickled in but most of it lacked substance. Chief Detective James Cummings visited Auckland’s Mt Eden Prison where it had been alleged a prisoner described in detail how he killed Mrs Oates. When Cummings interviewed the prisoner, it soon became clear that the man had been nowhere near Wanganui at the time.
Police eventually narrowed down the list of prime suspects in the murder to three men:
1) Frederick Phillips was the first police suspect. He was the manager of the local Goldfinch Timber Mill. The shop staff had heard Phillips and Oates arguing over an unpaid account on the day of the murder. Phillips was interviewed and was mortified at being considered a suspect. He admitted he was suffering hard economic times and the public confrontation had been highly embarrassing. Desperate as he was, Phillips was a just a hard-working businessman down on his luck—not a vicious killer.
2) Clarence White was a local ne’er do well who had notched up a number of nuisance crimes and burglaries in his young life. He had been seen hanging around Oates’ store on the night of the murder. Robbery was the motive, and it was assumed he would be foolish enough to lavishly spend the proceeds. Police watched him closely but he did not act suspiciously. White was interviewed several times by Cummings—who felt confident enough to break him—but White held fast. At the end Cummings doubted White was the killer. He was the type to have cunningly committed the burglary but was unlikely to kill in order to get money.
3) Dick Mitchell was a known local burglar. He had been seen loitering around Somme Parade on the evening of the murder. He had no firm alibi for his whereabouts later that night. Like White, he was considered capable of burglary, but not violence. Police certainly suspected he was the offender who had robbed the confectionary store on the corner of Somme Parade and Glasgow Street on the afternoon before the murder, but this was never proven.
William Oates’ recovery from his injuries was slow. He returned to work, but his heart was no longer in it. Hedges came out of retirement to manage the shop with the assistance of Louisson and Rush.
James Louisson never forgave himself for not paying closer attention to the people he had seen as he walked home the night of Margaret Oates’ death. For years he would continue to rack his brain to try and remember if there had been anybody he recognised.
Eventually, Oates sold his business, sailed to Melbourne in July 1924 and never returned to New Zealand.
Thirty-five years after the killing, Wanganui Police received a letter which had been posted on 5 March 1958 at Mooroopna Base Hospital in Shepparton, Australia. It read:
To the Sergeant of Police
Wanganui
Dear Sir,
It often enters my head wondering if you ever found a sequel to the killing of Mrs Oats of Oramako [sic], round about the year 1924, or 23. It so happens, a chap said to me at the time, that I know the man who did it, but he would not tell me his name. That man’s name was SUMMERS but further than telling me that I knew the person, he would not give me any information other than to say he worked at the Pipe Works, Castle Cliff.
Well, I happened to be speaking to Tom Mills, who had the hotel about opposite to Police Station. There was a man in the bar who heard the conversation who proved to be a detective. He asked me to repeat what I had told Mr Mills then told me to drive him to the hotel where he might contact Summers, which I did, namely to the Metropolitan. When we arrived there I pointed the man out but he simply denied ever mentioning anything to me which made me look like a liar.
Well, a while later I left NZ for Australia, as I used to follow shearing. Some months after being here, I was shearing at a shed, namely Columbine, and it is always the usual thing if there are any travellers (namely, swagman, as called in NZ) to ask them in for a meal, and to my surprise one of the travellers was the man that Summers had spoke about. I did not wake up to the fact until the next night. I was thinking what had gone wrong that he should be carrying the swag and especially over here. I asked him to my room the night I recognised him. I talked to him for awhile, and gave him some tobacco and also a few bob and told him to go to a certain place in the town of Hay, get a room there and wait a few days until I come in when I would get him a job and take him with me, but needless to say he was not there and I have not seem him since. Probably he went back to NZ. They used to be comfortable, well-off, when I knew him and his brothers in a small town of Ormondville. They had a grocery store there together with other things and when I put it together it seems to point that he was the person responsible. Further after thinking about it quite a lot, I began to wonder if Mrs Oats [sic] was the woman he married. She and her sister used to look after the Norsewood Post Office that is if my assumption is correct. I often wondered when in the shop at Aramako where I had seen her before. Of course I could be making a mistake about her being the person he married together with her being a sister to the one who looked after the Post Office, but from my memory she resembled that person. You see I used to serve them with bread when I was little more than a lad or young youth. My old Dad used to be a baker in Ormondville and I often drove the cart on the Norsewood Round. However the man’s name was Percy Sugden and should this be of any use it may give you a lead to put things together.
Remaining respectfully, JJ Skinner.
Strathbogie via Euroa, Victoria
When this letter arrived on the desk of Wanganui detectives, nobody had any in depth knowledge about the case. All police who had worked on the original inquiry had retired, moved away or were dead. The Oates file had been stored in archives gathering dust. There were some confusing and conflicting elements in Skinner’s letter.
First, there were no established timelines in the letter so police were not sure when Skinner had run into Sugden.
They found the name Percy Sugden in old police records. His last known address had been Riverview Boarding House, Taupo Quay, Wanganui. In 1958, Sugden would have been 78 years old. At this age, it was unlikely he was travelling looking for work so it was assumed the encounter between Sugden and Skinner had occurred many years earlier. But why would Skinner raise this now?
Skinner’s brother Jim still lived in Ohakune. When interviewed, he confirmed his brother John left New Zealand around 1924, but he had not heard from him since. John Skinner had lived in Aramoho at the time of the murder and had talked about it incessantly to his brother, believing Margaret Oates had been murdered by her husband. Jim Skinner was also able to confirm that they had known Sugden from Ormondville.
Records showed there was an active warrant to arrest Sugden for failing to provide for his wife and children, and failing to comply with a maintenance order from 16 October 1923.
Sugden had worked in the grocery store in Ormondville which he ran with his brother until the early 1920s when he had left his wife and his job and left Wanganui. A short time later, he reappeared and moved into the Riverview Boarding House and secured employment at Spiral and Lock Bar Pipeworks.
By 1958, the boarding house had been demolished. The Spiral and Lock Bar Pipeworks was still operating. Staff records showed Sugden had been a keen and diligent worker whose speciality was construction jobs. The only staff member to remember Sugden was an elderly man named William Webb. Webb said Sugden had been quiet and sullen, keeping mostly to himself.
Records showed Sugden last worked on 10 April 1922 when he vanished midway through the day. He never returned to his job and was never seen in the area again. Post Office savings records confirmed his account was closed at Wanganui on the same day. There was no other record of him being in the area after 10 April 1922 so it was unlikely he was there when Margaret Oates was murdered.
If the name William Webb sounds familiar, it’s because he lived over the back fence from Oates in 1923. At the inquest into the murder, Webb testified that he had eaten dinner with his family, and then gone out walking returning home soon after 8pm. His daughter retired to bed around 8.30pm, and he at 9pm. They heard no sound from Oates’ place that night.
Webb told the coroner it would take a very active man to bound over the fence because of its height, thereby negating this as an escape route. Furthermore he had heard nothing nor had he seen anyone suspicious in the area while he was out walking.
Webb had been considered an important witness because of the location of his home. Like Skinner, he became somewhat fixated with the murder. To the annoyance of police, Webb had carried out his own private investigations and regularly approached police naming individuals who he suspected of having killed Margaret Oates. More often than not, the names he gave to police were people who he disliked or held grudges against. Webb was cautioned many times against making false and misleading accusations. Had he made these allegations to take the heat off himself? Was he the assailant?
John Skinner’s letter to police had said that Summers identified an employee of the pipe works as Margaret Oates’ killer. At the time of the murder, Sugden was not working there—but William Webb was. Webb could have known Oates took the shop takings home each night. From his house, he would have been able to see that the Peppers were out for the evening.
In any case, Webb was not interviewed as a suspect in connection with the murder in 1958. Too much time had elapsed for them to be able to re-investigate. Police believed that whoever killed Margaret Oates and bashed her husband would have disposed of the satchel and murder weapon in the Whanganui River before quickly and quietly leaving town. William Webb made no effort to evade police and didn’t seem to have anything to hide.
Webb’s financial affairs were also taken into consideration. The killer would have made off with a great deal of cash and would likely have drawn attention to himself splashing money around. No one could remember Webb ever coming into a large sum of money and he had no convictions for assault or violence. Wanganui police didn’t suspect him of the murder in 1923 and this belief did not waver 35 years later.