Crime Immemorial

Alison Shaughnessy (née Blackmore) was born on November 7th, 1969, into a large Irish family in London, where she grew up with deep roots in both the city and the rural idyll of Piltown, County Kilkenny, Ireland. Described by those who knew her as warm, ambitious, and family-oriented, Alison worked as a clerk at a Barclays bank when she met John Shaughnessy in 1986. John, an Irish emigrant recently arrived in London, was employed at the Churchill Clinic in Lambeth, a psychiatric facility. Their connection was instant; they became engaged in April 1989 and married on June 23rd, 1990, in a joyful ceremony back in Piltown.

But beneath the wedding bells lurked a shadow. John and a twenty-year-old colleague at the clinic, Michelle Taylor, had begun an affair before the wedding. Living just two rooms apart in the clinic’s staff accommodation, their relationship blossomed amid whispers from coworkers. Michelle, a virgin before meeting John, viewed him as her “first true love” and even went on the pill at his suggestion. She organized and funded his bachelor party, and he covered her travel to the wedding, where he kissed her on the cheek in front of guests. Reports later emerged of sexual encounters the night before and morning of the wedding itself.

Alison, oblivious to the betrayal, moved into the clinic accommodation post-wedding but grew uneasy around Michelle, whom she disliked intensely. By January 1991, the couple had relocated to a modest flat at 41 Vardens Road in Battersea, a stone’s throw from Clapham Junction station. Alison confided dreams of starting a family and returning to Ireland with John. Unbeknownst to her, the affair carried on; John and Michelle had sex as recently as three weeks before the murder. Michelle, harboring fantasies of a future with John, confided in her diary: “When you see a person and you don’t see the other person with them, it doesn’t really enter your head. So you still feel like you’re boyfriend and girlfriend and there’s no-one else there.”

June 3rd, 1991, was a Monday like any other for the then twenty-one-year-old Alison. She clocked out of work at Barclays shortly after five p.m. and made the thirty-five-minute journey home, arriving at approximately five thirty-seven p.m. She paused to collect the mail from the hallway, a small act suggesting she felt safe and unthreatened by whoever was inside. What happened next unfolded in a mere two to three minutes of unimaginable terror.

Alison was attacked in the narrow stairwell leading to her flat, stabbed repeatedly with a knife that was never recovered. She sustained three deep wounds sufficient to kill her outright, but the assailant—or assailants—continued, inflicting fifty-one more shallow stabs to her hands, legs, and body. Defensive wounds covered her front, indicating she fought back while fully conscious; a severe cut severed her neck and windpipe. She was found fully clothed, face-down in a pool of her own blood at the top of the stairs, by John and Michelle, who arrived together around eight thirty p.m. The frenzy suggested rage, not robbery, though jewelry, including Alison’s bracelet, was missing, and one window showed signs of forced entry.

No forced entry marred the front door or roof, and the attack’s ferocity pointed to an intimate betrayal. Pathologist Professor Rufus Crompton noted the wounds required little strength, initially suggesting a female perpetrator, though he later clarified under cross-examination that such attacks are “often by men.” Just three days shy of her first wedding anniversary, Alison was buried in Piltown’s church cemetery.

John’s alibi was ironclad: he was at work. Suspicion quickly fell on Michelle, fueled by clinic gossip and her affair with John. Police searched her room on July 24th, 1991, uncovering the damning 1990 diary entry: “I hate Alison, the unwashed bitch. My dream solution would be for Alison to disappear as if she never existed and then maybe I could give everything I want to the man I love.” Though written during the height of her infatuation, it painted a motive of jealous obsession, especially as John planned to move to Ireland with Alison.

Fingerprints from Michelle and her eighteen-year-old sister Lisa were found inside the front door of Alison and John’s home; Lisa’s despite her claim of never visiting. A witness, surgeon Dr. Michael Unsworth-White, reported seeing two young women, one with a ponytail like Lisa’s, fleeing the building around five forty-five p.m. Their friend Jeanette “J.J.” Tapp initially provided an alibi, claiming the sisters watched the TV show Neighbours with her from five thirty p.m., but retracted it, admitting she was shopping and didn’t see them until seven fifteen p.m.

On August 7th, 1991, Michelle, Lisa, and Jeanette were arrested. Michelle admitted the affair but went “no comment” afterward; Lisa did the same. Police theorized the sisters left work at four p.m., drove to Battersea, waited for Alison, attacked her upon entry, and returned by six p.m., a tight twenty-three-minute window that raised doubts even then.

The 1992 Old Bailey trial drew massive media attention, with tabloids dubbing Michelle the “blonde jealous mistress” and Alison the tragic “bride.” Prosecutors hammered the diary, fingerprints (deemed no older than 72 hours, debunking Michelle’s cleaning claim), and Jeanette’s false alibi. John’s testimony—that he still saw Michelle as “just a friend” despite post-murder sex—crumbled under cross-examination. The sisters’ interest in jujitsu and Lisa’s history of stabbing a dog were cited as evidence of violent tendencies.

Defense barrister Lady Mallalieu QC argued the evidence was “thin or non-existent,” urging against “guesswork and speculation.” They posited an intruder via the forced window, noting missing jewelry and similar local attacks on women. But after five and a half hours, the jury returned unanimous guilty verdicts. Michelle and Lisa were sentenced to life; Michelle to Holloway Prison, Lisa to a young offenders’ institute.

However, within a year, cracks appeared. In 1993, the Court of Appeal quashed the convictions, citing undisclosed evidence: Dr. Unsworth-White’s notes initially described one fleeing woman as “may have been black” (later corrected to white), which could have undermined his identification. Sensational media coverage had prejudiced the jury, making a retrial impossible. The sisters walked free after thirteen months.

Critics, including journalist Bob Woffinden, lambasted the case’s flaws: the diary’s outdated context, the fingerprint’s possible innocent origin (from unreported window-cleaning), Dr. Unsworth-White’s inconsistent statements (including a later-added “man” in the sighting), and improbable timings. Alternative theories pointed to a male intruder linked to Battersea burglaries, a claim ignored by police.

The Metropolitan Police reinvestigated in 2000 but closed the case in 2002 with no new leads. The UK’s 2005 double jeopardy reforms opened retrial possibilities, but none materialized. Michelle and Lisa married, had children, and faded from public view. John remarried, fathered children, and settled in Killarney, Ireland, reflecting in 1998: “I made a terrible mistake and I’m paying a terrible price. But show me a man who hasn’t had an affair.”

Alison’s family remains convinced of the Taylor sisters’ guilt. Complicating matters, author Bernard O’Mahoney, initially a campaigner for their release, later claimed Michelle confessed during an affair with him, fueling calls for reconviction in his 2001 book The Dream Solution.

As of November 2025, the murder of Alison Shaughnessy remains officially unresolved.