Crime Immemorial

Mary Jane Voller was born around 1893, making her just five years old at the time of her death. She lived with her parents in a modest home in Barking, a working-class suburb on the outskirts of London. The Voller family appeared typical of the Victorian era’s lower-middle class, with her father employed locally and her mother managing the household. Life in Barking during the late 19th century was industrial and bustling, but for children like Mary, errands were commonplace, even at a tender age. It was not unusual for young children to run quick tasks alone, as societal norms and economic necessities often demanded independence from an early age.

On December 31st, 1898, around five ten p.m., Mary’s mother sent her to a nearby shop across the street to purchase a penny’s worth of linseed oil—a common household item used for various purposes, including medicine and polishing. She handed her daughter a threepenny coin and expected her back shortly. The shop was mere steps away, a journey that should have taken no more than a few minutes. However, after ten to fifteen minutes passed without Mary’s return, her mother grew anxious and began inquiring with neighbors and the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper confirmed that no one had purchased linseed oil since two p.m. that day, indicating Mary never arrived at her destination. This revelation suggested she had been abducted almost immediately after leaving home, within that narrow window of time.

Alarmed, Mary’s father and grandfather joined the search, scouring the streets of Barking. They reported her missing to the local police, who circulated her description nationwide in hopes of locating the lost child. As the hours stretched into the night, the family’s worry turned to dread. Mr. Voller expanded his search to less frequented areas, including remote spots around Barking Lane.

It was there, near a shed by a brook, that he made the horrifying discovery: Mary’s lifeless body floating in shallow water. Initial reports vary slightly on the exact date of the discovery, with some sources placing it shortly after her disappearance on December 31st, while others suggest it may have been in early January 1899. Regardless, the scene was one of utter tragedy. Mr. Voller initially refused to disturb the body until authorities arrived, adhering to protocol, but his distraught wife convinced him to bring their daughter home.

The body was found in a flooded ditch or brook with about three feet of water. Police and the coroner were summoned immediately to examine the scene and the remains.

The post-mortem examination revealed the full extent of the atrocity. Mary had been sexually assaulted—raped in a manner that shocked even hardened investigators. Her body bore multiple puncture wounds: two in her neck, one near her groin, and another on the inside of her left thigh. These injuries were accompanied by scratches, believed to have been inflicted by a blunt object rather than a sharp knife. However, these wounds were not fatal.

Instead, the cause of death was drowning. Investigators concluded that Mary had been thrown into the water while unconscious or in a state of shock from the assault, as there was no mud or debris in her throat, which would have been present if she had struggled to breathe. The repeated stabbings and the nature of the assault pointed to a perpetrator driven by sadistic impulses, preying on the vulnerability of a child.

The case fell under the jurisdiction of the local police in Barking, with an inquest led by Dr. Ambrose. The inquiry, which resumed in February 1899, heard testimony from family members, neighbors, and the shopkeeper. Details emerged about the timeline of the disappearance and the family’s frantic search. Despite widespread publicity and the circulation of Mary’s description, no solid leads materialized. The police interviewed locals and canvassed the area, but the lack of witnesses to the abduction hampered progress.

Newspapers of the time, such as the Western Times and Penny Illustrated Paper, covered the story extensively, fueling public outrage over child safety in urban areas. Yet, with no eyewitnesses and limited forensic capabilities in the 1890s, the investigation stalled. No arrests were made, and the case gradually faded from headlines.

In the immediate aftermath, no suspects were publicly named, and the murder remained unsolved. However, modern retrospectives have linked Mary’s death to a series of child abductions and murders in East London’s West Ham area between 1881 and 1899. Crime historian Dr. Jan Bondeson has proposed that these crimes—including the murders of Amelia Jeffs (aged fifteen, found raped and murdered in an empty house in 1890) and Bertha Russ (aged six, killed in 1899)—may have been the work of a single perpetrator, dubbed a “Jack the Ripper copycat.”

The prime suspect in this theory is Joseph Roberts, a local builder with access to unoccupied properties where some victims were found. Roberts was questioned in connection with Amelia Jeffs’ murder but never charged due to insufficient evidence. Other cases potentially linked include the disappearances of Mary Seward (aged fourteen, 1881) and Eliza Carter (aged ten, 1882), as well as attempted drownings of young girls. Bondeson argues that the high-profile Ripper murders of 1888 may have inspired this killer, shifting from adult prostitutes to vulnerable children.

While compelling, this theory remains speculative, as no direct evidence ties Roberts to Mary’s murder. Contemporary investigators did not connect the dots, possibly due to jurisdictional issues or the era’s limited understanding of serial offenders.

Today, over a century later, Mary’s killer remains unidentified.