A
one hour in depth analysis of what's going on in your life
where we look at the challenges you face both from past and present.
Whether its
relationships, career, health, or weight problems, we will
uncover the root cause and apply the
solution. Most aren't even aware of the patterns and cycles
they subconsciously engage in.
This new found awareness will last a life
time. You will create the life you've always wanted. You will
be free of the anxiety that has plagued you for too long and become
who you really are.
It's magic!
Greater Manchester Police - Chief Inspector Ron Clarke's Testimony for Maria Whitworth in her account of the murder of two elderly ladies in Shaw England. For validation's sake we are reproducing here correspondence with the Detective Chief Inspector of Greater Manchester Police in England, concerning Maria's work with them, as told in (one of) her work(s); "Leave them Alone and They Will Come Home,... but only when they're ready", as well as the relevant chapters of that work.
After Maria wrote these chapters, she asked the Chief Inspector to look over the material and make any changes, corrections, or additions as he found necessary, and also to approve or disapprove of any disclosures being made as he deemed appropriate. The good Chief Inspector made only one slight correction, (of an identity; "...was my father, not my grandfather.."), and a few requested alterations regarding names. As far as Maria's stories regarding her work, etc., everything she wrote about was confirmed. This material provides a provocative insight into the kind of work Maria does, and her remarkable detail and effectiveness. We hope you enjoy it.
"I want to express special thanks to Ron for his willingness to stand up in the face of potential ridicule by his peer officials, and other duty officers, where many would have considered a threat to their rank or status to be more important than the search for the truth, and for then coming forward and offering me his support. I would also like to extend my gratitude to the other officials and officers who have made their support available."
The following is a retyped copy of Chief Inspector Ron Clarke's letter, of April 26th 1995, to Maria in response to her request that he review proposed excerpts from her book...
Dear Maria,
Can I begin with an apology for my delay in responding to your letter. I have been extremely busy of late and although I understand the importance of your work to your self, I have had to put this low on my own priorities.
I have read through the relevant chapters and although I agree with most in principal, there are one or two minor differences which I would like to correct. For example, the contact with the Spirit World was with my father not my grandfather. My colleague who you refer to is also known as "Percy" and the black woman who was murdered was called _______________ . I am happy for you to call her Emma. I would not like to see her real surname released.
I also note that you have named the suspect _________ , I could not agree to this name being disclosed. I have therefore referred to him as Roy Smith. Because of the passage of time since the incidents, I have written out in some detail my recollection of the events. It is then for you to decide how best to use the material.
May I wish you every success.
Yours sincerely,
Ron J. Clarke, Chief Inspector, etc...
DETECTIVE CLARKE'S RECOLLECTIONS
I recall my first meeting with Maria Coppola Whitworth quite vividly, though at that time I got to know her as Maria Green. It was a Sunday afternoon, March 8th 1985, to be exact. At the time I was a Detective Inspector working in one of the many large towns in North West England; a town called Rochdale, famous only for its cotton mills, Gracie Fields and the birth of the English Co-operative movement.
Sunday was my day off work and I was sitting at home watching a soccer match on television when the phone rang. My wife, Lynne, answered the telephone and said "It's someone called Maria for you!" Slightly bemused, not knowing anyone called Maria, I picked up the telephone handset. After introducing myself, the caller, Maria, told me she had some information regarding the vicious murder of two elderly ladies. Maria then told me she was a medium and the information she possessed came from the spirit world. She told me she had tried to pass the information to the police, but she felt she was being laughed at. Knowing the sense of humor of police officers, let alone skepticism, I was not surprised.
Maria asked if I would listen to her story. None too pleased, I sacrificed my soccer match - I am a soccer fanatic - and went to see Maria at her home address. Funnily enough she did not live very far from my home, though I had never met her.
I must break at this stage to explain a little of the murder of the two elderly ladies. Without going into too much detail, the two ladies were spinsters living in a terrace house in my home town of Shaw. Both in their eighties, they were sisters, and I think they were retired school teachers. They had both been found by a concerned relative, battered to death in their home. Both had been sexually assaulted,... either buggered or raped.
I must also stress that I had no involvement with the murder investigation. In fact, the investigation, though in the town where I lived, was not in the area I was responsible for policing.
I need not go any further into the details of the murder, other than to say that at that time the police had not released details of the rape and buggery.
Anyway, I now find myself at Maria's home, and was invited inside to find Maria at home with a lady who I believe was her mother-in-law, together with a young child who was running around in a baby-walker, and making all the noises that babies do. Maria then started to explain that she had been contacted by the spirit of one of the murdered ladies. The lady kept mentioning "Mark", but Maria couldn't decide if this was the name of a person, the person responsible for the murder, or the name of a street or road.
One thing that she did tell me was that buggery and rape had taken place. Funny, as I explained, because at that time that information was classified, and had not been released by the investigators.
Eventually, after 20 minutes or so, Maria had supplied me with enough detail which, with just a little investigation, should have led to a name or address of an individual.
"You don't believe me" Maria said.
"It's not that I don't believe you, but I have to confess I am very skeptical", was my reply.
Maria then asked if I could supply her with an item of personal property. I handed her a small wallet in which I kept my credit cards. She sat there running her fingers over my wallet. She was starting a spiritual reading, something as a child, and throughout my adult life, I always believed was wrong. Wrong, that is, to try to disturb the dead.
She started asking me questions. She seemed very serious, but I was convinced she was fishing. She asked questions and I answered.
MARIA "Who is Dolly?"
REPLY "I do not know!"
MARIA "Who is Helen?"
REPLY "I do not know!"
MARIA "Who is Margaret?"
REPLY "I have a sister called Denise Margaret, other than that I do not know!"
MARIA "Who is Katie?"
REPLY "I have a sister called Kathryn we used to call her Katie when we were kids."
MARIA "Whose birthday is it? I am in touch with an elderly man with a very bad chest, and he is singing Happy Birthday."
REPLY "I don't know, it is my brother's birthday 14th March, and my mother's 27th March."
MARIA "It's not them. It's another birthday. Does your brother have a yellow car?"
REPLY "Yes, but it's been written off in an accident."
MARIA "The man says tell him to close his windows when he goes out."
A very strange conversation I thought, and not the setting for a reading with the child running around, and making enough noise to waken the dead.
Maria herself was acting strange, throwing herself about as though in a trance. Thank goodness her mother-in-law was present, otherwise I would have felt vulnerable.
Maria then went on to tell me I was going to move house and that I had never been happy in my present home. My home was for sale at the time, but there was no sign displaying this. Nonetheless, I was still convinced she was fishing. Everyone moves house at some stage.
Constantly, Maria was saying, "The man is singing Happy Birthday."
The conversation changed, from my point of view, when Maria asked me some very personal questions regarding my personal life. I am not prepared to give those details, but we disagreed. Maria agreed to disagree and moved on, but she told me something of a most intimate nature which I denied,... but of course she was correct. She then told me that I did not visit my mother often enough, then she continued to speak.
MARIA "The man is getting tired and he has to go and rest, he is going, he is going."
A lump came to my throat as I said to Maria, "I wish I had said Happy Birthday."
"Why?" asked Maria.
"Because today is my father's birthday" was my reply.
My father had been dead for 21 years. He died because of a heart condition and had suffered chest ailments as long as I had known him when he was alive.
Although he had gone to rest, Maria assured me that he had heard me say Happy Birthday. There is no doubt in my mind that Maria had made contact with the spirit of my dead father. Maria handed me back my wallet.
The one thing she repeatedly asked for was to either enter the home of the two ladies, or to handle a piece of jewelry belonging to them. With that, she was confident of getting more information from the spirit world.
Events were later to unfold which meant Maria's wishes to enter the house or handle jewelry were never granted.
Armed with information relating to the murders I left, though, now convinced Maria was genuine, how do I pass on the information without myself becoming the butt of police humor.
Still rocking from my experience I went to visit my mother that evening. Where I believed Maria was fishing, my mother provided clues to fill the gaps.
Dolly was my father's sister. Helen was my aunt, who we knew as Nelly. The thing about telling my brother to close his windows was answered by my mother who said, "That's John, he's always leaving his windows open, and there have been a lot of burglaries in the area."
My mother often minded my brother John's children. She said I did visit her often enough, but she would wouldn't she.
The following morning I went into work, where I spoke to my boss. I knew the man well enough to know he wouldn't laugh me out of his office. I told him of my meeting with Maria and of the information she had supplied. To my relief my boss passed the information on to the incident room of the neighboring division.
After a short while he returned, and said an arrest had been made. Later that evening, on my return home, I rang Maria and told her that an arrest had been made, and a youth had been charged with murdering the two old lades. Maria seemed quite pleased. An hour or so later, I couldn't believe my ears when Maria telephoned me to say that the police had arrested the wrong man.
No-one listened after that. Maria was just a crank, and I was afraid of being labelled the same from listening to her.
Some time later, towards the end of the year, I was transferred to the Serious Crime Squad, a group of officers dedicated to investigating serious crimes including murders. Within weeks I was involved in the investigation of a young black woman who had been found dead in a Manchester Park.
By sheer fluke I was drafted into the incident room, but I was now sharing a desk with a colleague who had been involved in the investigation of the murders of the two ladies.
Let me explain a little about a Murder Incident Room.
There are several posts as follows:
The Senior Investigation Officer, who is responsible for overall charge of operations. He is known as the S.I.O. ,and often has a deputy.
The Office Manager is responsible for the smooth running of the Incident Room, and handling domestic matters.
The Receiver, usually an Inspector, is the person to whom all incoming information is passed. He then allocates responses to information, which are called "ACTIONS".
For some reason we had two receivers on this investigation, myself, and my colleague who had been the receiver for the murder of the two old ladies.
By this time a youth had spent some considerable time in prison for the murder of the two ladies, though as yet he was on remand, not convicted. To use an English police phrase, that previous investigation had "Gone Pear Shaped". Many people were protesting the arrested youth's innocence.
I told my colleague of my experience with Maria Green. As Receiver on the previous murder, he had not been totally convinced that the investigation had been completed thoroughly. What I told him about Maria made sense to him.
To finish this part of the story, a second incident took place in my home town. A woman taxi driver was lured to a remote spot, where she was raped, beaten, and left for dead in the boot of her own car. She was not dead. She survived, and was able to identify her attacker, who, when arrested and interviewed, also admitted the murder of the two old ladies.
The innocent man was later released.
As the murder investigation of the black woman continued, the initial flurry of information dried up. There was insufficient work for two receivers, and I joined the external inquiry teams, specifically tasked to carry out my investigation in unlicensed drinking places, known as "shebeens".
At this stage of the investigation a witness had come forward and passed on information to suggest the murderer was a black man, who wore Rastafarian dreadlocks.
Let me explain what we know about the deceased:
She was a young mother and grandmother, who had spent the afternoon at a promotion in a city center furniture store. She had had with her a bottle of vodka, which was in her handbag. This again was not disclosed.
She was known to have been drunk, and had visited a drinking club in the evening. When she left, it was believed she visited a shebeen, where she had possibly spoken to her attacker.
She was last seen alive at 2:20am in the presence of a man sporting Rastafarian dreadlocks, near to the spot where she was found dead.
She was found dead in a park, naked, with a single front tooth missing.
Her own watch was missing, yet another watch was found at the scene,... a gents wristwatch.
The investigation went quite well at first, and I recall a Road Patrol Officer arresting a black man, sporting dreadlocks, who fitted the description of the suspect.
I shall name that man "Roy SMITH", though this is not his real surname. I shall now refer to him as ROY.
I was called upon to interview Roy, who admitted being near to the scene, crossing the road about the same time as the last sighting of the black woman. Better than that he had no alibi. Whether or not he was the killer remains to be seen, but I was reasonably satisfied that he could be our man.
My interview finished about 5:00am. Roy was placed in a cell, and I eventually retired from duty at about 8:00am-9:00am.
To my amazement, when I returned to work the following night, Roy had been released. He had provided an alibi. His alibi was that he had not been at the scene after all, but remembered he spent the night at his brother's home, watching a Mike Tyson fight on television.
I could not believe it. That evidence is only as strong as a video tape of the fight, which could be watched at any time. In any event, Tyson's fights were usually screened about 4:30am in England, not 2:20am, the last sighting of the black woman.
Many other suspects, Black Rastafarian males, were arrested, no charges being brought. Each arrested person, however, had his photograph taken. The photographs were kept in albums at the main incident room.
Eventually, the investigation began to decline, with no new clues coming in. It was at that point that I remembered Maria Green.
I went to see the deceased woman's family, and borrowed an article of jewelry which had belonged to her. It was a gold chain I believe. Then, quite unannounced, and together with a junior colleague, I went to see Maria, taking of course the gold chain.
The sequence of events now perhaps gets a little confused, however this is how I recall things began to unfold.
Holding the chain, Maria started to concentrate. She began talking in a kind of West Indian accent. She told me the deceased was a black woman called Emma.
One of the things that stand out in my mind was this young frail looking white woman, clutching the gold chain, and in a West Indian accent saying "He's Corduroy. He's Corduroy."
Maria then held her mouth as though in pain, she told me that Emma had had a front tooth knocked out. Of course, she was absolutely right.
"He's Corduroy, He's Corduroy". It didn't make sense. Then Maria asked me to take her to the scene of the murder.
En route, in the car, Maria said she could see a watch. "Was there some significance" she asked. Then she said "I can see his face in the face of a watch. It is a side profile of the killer, and he is called Roy. He is called Roy."
Maria went on to say that Emma had said that her killer was called Roy, that I had actually interviewed him, and that he had been released without being charged.
We arrived at the scene, and I took Maria directly to the spot where Emma had been found dying. Although she had been assaulted, and stripped of her clothing, she had not been indecently assaulted, and had actually died from hypothermia.
Once at the spot, on soft muddy grass, Maria asked to be taken to another area within the park. Here she began to walk along a path, she began talking in a West Indian accent once again. She said a man had asked her for a light for a cigarette. She was scared. Suddenly the man is dragging her into the park. He strikes her in the face and a tooth drops out.
Amazingly, in the fingertip search of the area that followed the attack, Emma's missing tooth was found by the searching police officers.
I took Maria back home. She had given clues, but there was more to come.
I sat on the information for a couple of days, when as the inquiry was going nowhere at all I decided to speak to the Senior Investigating Officer.
I told him fully of my dealings with Maria. Perhaps expecting ridicule, I was amazed when I was asked to revisit the scene with Maria, to see if we could gather more information, or in some way confirm our suspicions.
It was a pleasant Sunday afternoon. I took Maria to the club where we know Emma had been drinking the evening before she met her death. I asked her if she could trace Emma's steps. From outside the door of the club, Maria and I set off walking, but she turned left along a road I didn't expect her to walk.
She started to stagger as though she was drunk, holding on to iron railings for support. She said she was frightened. A man has stopped and offered her a lift. She declined the offer.
Suddenly Maria pointed to an ordinary row of terrace houses. "Take me to those houses?" she asked, "Emma went in one of those."
We stood at the door of No.3 Broadfield Road. "I want to go in, but I am scared", said Maria in her own voice. She was too afraid to enter and asked me to take her towards the scene.
Just outside the park Maria stopped and stepped back behind a wall.
"Emma stood here for a while and drank Vodka, or something, from a bottle in her handbag", said Maria. Again I must stress that this information had never been released.
"I still want to go to that house" said Maria.
Little did she know that No.3 Broadfield Road was the very shebeen we always suspected Emma to have called in before she met her death.
Maria plucked up sufficient courage to go inside.
I knocked on the door, which was opened by the occupant, an old West Indian guy called Watson. Mr. Watson, who had got to know me quite well by this time, allowed us to enter.
Maria stepped inside. She looked into a side room in this dirty filthy drinking den, a room used as a bar and dance area.
Pointing to a table and chairs, Maria told me that Emma and Roy had been sat at the table the morning she died.
Suddenly, Maria ran upstairs to the toilet. I do not know the reason for this. I followed. She looked into an upstairs room, and then came down again. Maria froze.
"Someone else has been killed in this house", she said.
It was only some two or three months before the death of Emma that a young guy had been shot dead in the doorway of the house.
I got Maria out of Watson's shebeen ,and took her to the incident room, where all the records were kept.
Normally, an Incident Room is a buzzing hive of activity, but this investigation was almost dead. The staff had been given a day off, and the room was empty.
I took out the photograph albums containing photographs of all the men that had been arrested. They numbered around 90. None of the photographs bear anything to identify who they are. All are numbered, with other details such as name, address, dates of birth, record numbers, etc., kept in separate files.
Maria went through the photographs. One by one, she looked at them. Suddenly she stopped.
"That's him", she said, "that's him."
Maria pointed to a photograph in the book. A photograph of Roy Smith, the only suspect in the book with the name Roy, or anything remotely like "Roy".
I had also taken a photograph of Roy which was not displayed in the album. This photograph was a side profile.
I again returned Maria home. This time she began to sing from the back of the car. She was happy. She said Emma was happy because she had been able to identify her killer.
The following day, I passed the information on to the S.I.O. He decided to act upon Maria's information. Roy was arrested, and his home searched again. We were desperately looking for particular blue fibers. Forensic scientists assisted, but none were found. All that was now left was the interview.
Several times it would appear that Roy was about to admit the murder of Emma, but something allowed him to stop short. He had been allowed to escape on the strength of an alibi based on his watching a Mike Tyson fight on television.
It is unlikely that the truth will ever be made public, but I am satisfied that Roy was without an alibi, and may well have murdered Emma.
In relation to both incidents, I am absolutely certain that Maria Whitworth possesses a rare gift of being able to communicate with the Spirit World. Her talents may not be orthodox, but I found her work to be of great comfort and value.