JEN
Saturday, 16 February, 2019
VALENTINE’S DAY MASSACRE – A DIFFERENT KIND OF KNIFE CRIME
Writer JEN HUNTER was one of the bystanders caught up in a horrific murder–suicide on Hampstead Heath on Thursday. Here she writes exclusively about the brutal crime.
It should have been a day like any other – no, better than any other. It was Valentine’s Day, after all. Couples were holding hands, looking at the ever-expanding London skyline, planning their romantic dinners. The sunlight caressed our faces as we stood on Parliament Hill Fields, Hampstead Heath, London, enjoying the unseasonably warm weather. And then something happened, something that could have come straight out of a horror film.
The facts are these. A man – recently named as 28-year-old Daniel Oliver – threatened his girlfriend, Victoria Da Silva, 26, an interior designer and the daughter of the multi-millionaire Portuguese businessman, Pedro Da Silva – with a champagne bottle. First of all, he smashed the bottle into her mouth and then, when brave bystanders wrestled this off him, he pulled out a knife from his pocket and slashed the young woman’s throat. Oliver then used the knife to slit his own throat. Both Oliver and Da Silva were pronounced dead at the scene.
Police have issued a statement saying they believe that the crime was a murder–suicide. Friends of Oliver, a city trader from a working-class family in Essex, say that they believe jealousy was behind the murder. According to one source, who did not want to be named, Oliver believed that Victoria Da Silva was having an affair. Yesterday, her father, who lives on The Bishops Avenue, one of London’s most expensive streets, released a statement that said, ‘Victoria was the perfect daughter – beautiful, bright, artistic and kind. She had the world at her feet. She was taken from us too early.’ He asked for privacy at this most difficult of times.
Oliver’s family – his parents are divorced and still live in Essex – expressed astonishment and disbelief that their son could have stabbed his girlfriend to death. ‘Dan loved Vicky, we saw that with our own eyes,’ said his mother, Karen, 52. ‘I just don’t believe he would do a thing like that.’
Although Daniel Oliver’s mother may not believe it, the truth of the matter is that he did do it.
I saw him do it.
I saw him smash that broken bottle of champagne into Victoria’s mouth as she tried to speak. I saw the outpouring of blood, after he shouted at her, ‘Don’t you f***ing talk. Don’t you say another f***ing word!’ I saw people, brave people, try to stop the attack. I saw it all with my own eyes, and I would give anything to wipe those images from my mind.
One of the other people standing at the top of Parliament Hill Fields that day was 42-year-old hedge fund manager Jamie Blackwood. He was out walking his dog with his boyfriend, Alex Hughes, 24. Blackwood suffered a series of minor injuries to his hands as he wrestled with Daniel Oliver in an attempt to take the broken bottle from him. And for a while, after Blackwood succeeded, we thought the whole horrible event was over. But then, as we waited for the police to come, Daniel Oliver took a knife from his pocket and slit Victoria’s throat. The expression on the young woman’s face – a mix of astonishment and horror – was one I will never forget.
A young doctor, Ayesha Ahmed, 25, who works at the Royal Free Hospital, Hampstead, and who was on her lunch break, did everything she could to save the life of Victoria Da Silva. She even tried to save the life of Victoria’s attacker too, Daniel, who slit his own throat. But by the time the authorities arrived, the couple was dead.
The scene looked like something from a slaughter house. There was blood everywhere. ‘I never saw anything like it, and witnessing it made me physically sick,’ says Julia Jones, the Labour MP, who was taking a run across the Heath. ‘And at this stage my sympathies go out to both families, who have been devastated by this horrific crime. There will, of course, be an inquest, and I’m helping the police piece together a picture of what happened on 14 February. But as this incident shows, it’s important to remember that knife crime can affect any community – black or white, rich or poor. This epidemic of knife crime has to stop.’
Police are keen to talk to a black teenager who was another witness, but who fled on foot just before the authorities arrived. They are also appealing to a male jogger who ran past the viewing spot of the famous Parliament Hill Fields just as the crime was unfolding. Anyone with information relating to the incident is urged to contact the police immediately, or call Crimestoppers on 0800 555 111.
Almost as soon as the piece goes online I get an email from Laurence. The sight of it pinging into my inbox lifts my spirits.
To: Jen@JenHunter.com
From: laurencejrobertson@gmail.com
Subject: You ok?
Hi Jen,
Just read your news story – God, how are you? What a horrible thing to have witnessed. Like you say, it sounds like a horror film. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. It seems as though the guy was driven crazy by jealousy. But what a thing to do.
Sorry we couldn’t meet up yesterday. It would have been nice to see you. But as I said in my text I totally understand.
I know we didn’t part company on the best of terms. We both said some terrible things that night, some of which I regret. I’m sure you would say the same. But looking forward to seeing you soon. Let’s make another date.
Laurence
It’s obvious he still cares about me. I picture us holding hands in the cinema, cuddling on the sofa, enjoying a meal together. I don’t allow myself to dwell on the idea of us in bed. But what do they say about clouds and silver linings? Perhaps the fact that he knows that I witnessed the attack will make him feel more sympathetic to me, and it might even serve as a way of bringing us back together.
The sudden frenzy on my Twitter feed disrupts my train of thought. I scroll through my notifications, bracing myself for the hate from the trolls. There’s quite a lot of criticism about the headline, but also a few retweets and supportive comments too. Then comes a message from someone whose Twitter name freaks me out: @WatchingYouJenHunter.
@WatchingYouJenHunter Hello. You’ve got a pretty face.
I check the profile, created today, and I see that they’re now following me. There is no potted biography, neither are there any other tweets attached to the account. The image belonging to the Twitter handle is a picture of my byline photo. Then the tweets come like a wave, one that unsteadies and unsettles me.
@WatchingYouJenHunter I think I recognise you from somewhere.
@WatchingYouJenHunter Have we met before?
@WatchingYouJenHunter Did you really see what you thought you saw?
I’ve endured my fair share of weirdos and social media trolls over the years – there is nothing like a personal column in which you share your vulnerabilities and weaknesses to bring out the world’s nastiest people – and the best policy is to ignore them. For a moment I think about blocking or muting the account, but there is something about this last question that intrigues me. I’ve enjoyed a few glasses of wine with Penelope to celebrate the publication of the piece, and I’m now back in my room. And so I tweet back.
@onlyoneJenHunter What do you mean?
There is nothing. And so I try again.
@onlyoneJenHunter Do you have any info about the Daniel Oliver–Victoria Da Silva case?
I stare at the screen of my phone. The icon apps burn into my brain as I wait. Still nothing.
And then, just as I am about to put the phone down and get ready for bed, I receive another message.
@WatchingYouJenHunter Daniel Oliver didn’t kill Victoria Da Silva.