Forty-eight-year-old Joan Maschek was known around Nottingham, England as something of an artistic type, often clad in outrageous fashions and interested in ballet, classical music, and hosting small parties with friends of similar proclivities. She lived alone in a tiny flat, having moved back to her native Nottingham after divorcing her former husband, American GI Clarence Maschek, with whom she had previously lived in South Dakota for many years.
Joan liked to frequent the pubs in her neighborhood and was well-liked among the locals, so a few of her friends found it strange when they failed to see her for several days in mid-July. Eventually, they became so concerned about her absence that they descended upon her flat on the evening of Sunday, July 13th, 1976, to make sure she hadn’t fallen ill.
When her friends entered the residence, however, they found something far worse than just a sick woman. Joan Maschek was lying dead on the floor of her flat, having been brutally battered to death with what was thought to be her own guitar. The walls of the tiny flat were liberally splattered with blood.
The police investigation centered mainly on Joan’s large circle of friends, but it soon became clear that essentially none of them had any motive whatsoever to kill her. Although Joan often had visitors to her flat at all hours of the night and liked to host small gatherings, there was no indication that she was involved in anything shady or illegal, and detectives could likewise uncover no sign that she was entangled in any romantic relationships that might have spurred jealousy or hurt feelings.
After nearly all of Joan’s associates were questioned and dismissed, only two persons of interest remained, neither of which could be located. The first of these was a slim, long-haired young man who had been seen in Joan’s company on several occasions and was known to share her interests in music and ballet. Joan’s other friends did not know his name but told investigators that this individual looked a bit “scruffy” but otherwise seemed perfectly pleasant and well-mannered. A composite sketch of the man was drawn up and released in the media, but his identity was never established.
The other man had allegedly been seen with Joan a few days before she was murdered. This individual was also young, tall, and conservative-looking, with shorter brown hair and black-framed glasses. He had reportedly been wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase when spotted walking next to Joan. This man, whoever he was, was also never located.
Their two most promising leads exhausted, detectives began searching farther afield for suspects, but all their efforts ultimately came to nothing. Hampering the case a great deal was the fact that there was no clear motive for the savage slaying: Joan had not been sexually assaulted, and her flat had not been robbed. Police hypothesized that perhaps she had known her killer, as there was no indication of forced entry, but the assailant could have just as easily been a stranger to her and slipped into the flat through an open window. Because she had been beaten to death with an object already in her flat—most likely her guitar—investigators surmised that the crime had probably not been premeditated, but beyond that, they were at a complete loss, and the homicide remains one of Nottingham’s most frustrating cold cases.
Crime Immemorial 