Forty-two-year-old Mohammed Younis was a familiar figure in Slough, Berkshire, England, known for his reliable service as a local taxi driver, and working long hours to support his family. Friends and colleagues described him as mild-mannered and unassuming, with no known enemies or involvement in criminal activities that might have marked him as a target. His life revolved around his work, his flat in Chalvey, and his loved ones. There were no reports of disputes, debts, or threats that could explain the horror that eventually befell him.
The attack occurred sometime after Mohammed returned home from his shift on the evening of Monday, December 19th, 1994. Neighbors heard nothing unusual—no shouts, no signs of struggle audible through the thin walls of the residential block. It was only the next morning, on December 20th, that the grim discovery was made. A concerned relative or colleague, unable to reach him, alerted authorities, who forced entry into the flat and found Mohammed’s body slumped in the hallway, surrounded by signs of a frenzied assault. The weapon, a knife likely brought by the attacker, had been used with savage efficiency, inflicting more than a dozen wounds that suggested a sudden and overwhelming attack rather than a prolonged fight.
Thames Valley Police launched a murder hunt, treating the scene as a potential burglary gone wrong or a random act of violence. Forensic teams scoured the flat for clues: fingerprints, fibers, blood spatter patterns that might reconstruct the killer’s movements. But the evidence yielded little. No forced entry was evident, implying the door had been opened to someone known or trusted—or perhaps jimmied so subtly it went unnoticed. Valuables appeared undisturbed, ruling out a straightforward robbery motive.
From the outset, investigators grappled with the randomness of the crime. Police speculated early on that it might have been the work of a mentally ill stranger, pointing to the ferocity of the stabbings as indicative of a deranged individual rather than a calculated hit. Alternatively, they considered the possibility that Mohammed had interrupted a burglar mid-act, triggering a panicked, lethal response. Chalvey in the mid-1990s was not immune to petty crime, but such a savage escalation seemed out of character for local opportunists.
Door-to-door inquiries canvassed the neighborhood, appealing for witnesses who might have seen a suspicious figure lurking near the flats that evening. Taxi dispatch records were reviewed for any unusual fares Mohammed might have picked up, potentially linking a passenger to the crime. Yet, no solid leads emerged. The absence of witnesses was stark, turning the case into a cold trail almost from the start.
Over the years, the investigation has seen periodic reviews, with modern forensic techniques applied to archived evidence. DNA testing, which was in its infancy in 1994, has been revisited, but no matches have surfaced in national databases. Appeals on programs like Crimewatch reconstructed the hallway scene, urging the public to come forward with even the smallest detail. Still, the killer of Mohammed Younis remains at large, one of twenty-two unsolved murders haunting Berkshire’s history.
