The 1920 Crumbles Murder: The Killing of Irene Munro

In the summer of 1920, 17-year-old Irene Munro took a train to a Sussex seaside town, hoping for a brief escape and perhaps to make new friends. But what was meant to be a simple holiday soon turned into a tragic mystery, her life cut short on the windswept shores of the Crumbles – a lonely stretch of beach between Eastbourne and Pevensey Bay.

Background

Irene Violet Munro was born on 23 November 1902 in Brighton on the south east coast of England, to domestic servant Flora Munro. Her birth certificate didn’t give the name of the father, though Flora later said he was a coal merchant named William. According to Flora, William had died by 1911 and nine-year-old Irene was sent to live with a foster family in nearby Hove, as her mother was unable to care for her while working long hours as a servant.

Irene was academically gifted and quick to learn, which earned her a place at the East Hove Higher Grade Girls’ School. As a teenager during the first world war, she moved to London to live with her mother, now a housekeeper for a wealthy couple in South Kensington. Their home was near the Onslow Court Hotel, a location that would later feature in the case of acid bath murderer John George Haigh.

After leaving school, Irene worked as a shorthand typist for a luxury shoemaker on Regent Street. She was described as quiet, diligent, and reserved, but enjoyed the cinema, theatre and dining out with friends, especially Marion Ada Beasley, known as Ada. She later took a similar job at an accountancy firm, earning £2 7s 6d a week, from which she regularly sent her mother 13 shillings. Around this time, Irene became more outgoing and started dating. She was 5’7” with dark hair and brown eyes, and although she’d previously avoided men’s attention, she began several romances at the age of 17, including a brief fling with a 39-year-old man she met at a tube station, to whom she claimed she was 20.

In March 1920, Irene met a 45-year-old Belgian import-export manager named Ludovic Kort. They dined out regularly, sometimes joined by her friend Ada, and took trips together, once to Hampton Court Palace. On one occasion, Irene turned down a date with Ludovic to attend a dance, and he wrote her a note hinting he wanted more time alone with her:

‘You naughty little girl to leave me by myself until Friday. I was so hopeful to see you tomorrow. I quite understand it that you like to go to the dance and wish you so much pleasure. Never mind Ada. Don’t tell her what we intend to do in the future. It is so much nicer to be alone with you. I enclose a pound note for you, little bird, to buy some things you may be in need of and also will suggest you buy at the chemist some cream to put every night on your pretty face to render it clean and bright.’

Irene hid the letter from her mother, who had grown up in the Victorian era and would have considered such familiarity improper – a view that was still common in 1920. As one Sunday Mirror journalist noted at the time, ‘During the Victorian age, nice girls do not speak to strange men. Nowadays, apparently, almost all girls regard that rule as piffle.’ Although fashions were changing and social restrictions were loosening, class and gender still defined everyday life, and there were many who would disapprove of Irene’s romances.

Eventually, Irene’s mother Flora discovered Ludovic’s letter and urged Irene to return his money and stop seeing him. Irene ignored her, writing in her diary, ‘

Dear oh dear. Some mothers are the limit. They’re nearly all the same. Think we are going to be kidnapped or something!’ She also reflected, ‘Some people think me quiet, some noisy, some clever, some ignorant, and after all, what am I? Just an ordinary girl whom everyone misunderstands. I do so want to grow up quickly. Life is too short, and I am going to enjoy myself and make the best of it.’

In a tragic irony, Irene’s life would prove even shorter than she imagined.

In April 1920, Kort proposed marriage, but didn’t mention that he already had a wife and three children back in Belgium. Irene declined, saying he was too old, and instead began seeing her married boss, John Maxwell, and having lunch with him at the Golden Cross Hotel. Maxwell would later admit to kissing her frequently at the office when the other staff weren’t around.

Eastbourne Holiday

That year, Flora Munro planned a holiday to Edinburgh and asked her daughter to join her. While paid holidays weren’t yet a legal right for most workers, it was becoming more common for employees to be granted a week or two off in the summer. Irene chose to go her own way, opting for a seaside break instead of accompanying her mother. After leafing through the guidebooks, she settled on Eastbourne a coastal town in East Sussex.

Looking forward to her break, Irene packed her clothes and £7 of spending money, then set off for the popular seaside resort, which had a population of around 50,000 and boasted three golf courses and the Devonshire Park tennis courts, which had begun hosting yearly lawn tennis events in the lead up to Wimbledon. Before she left, Irene confided to a friend that she hoped to meet a man at Eastbourne, adding, ‘It will help me save my money. Besides, it is very much nicer if you can find someone to go about with.’

Irene took the train from London, a journey of about an hour and a half, arriving at 8:00 a.m. on a warm August morning. With just a light breeze, she barely needed her green woollen coat trimmed with imitation fur at the hem, collar and cuffs. She spent most of her first day exploring the town and soaking in the fresh sea air, the lively music from the bandstand, the screeching gulls, and the steady lapping of the waves. After buying a dozen postcards to send to family and friends, Irene searched for a room. She hadn’t booked ahead and hadn’t realised how busy the town would be, but eventually she found a place at 393 Seaside, an end-of-terrace house charging a costly 30 shillings a week. She already seemed to regret the trip, telling landlady Mrs Wynniatt, ‘My mother wanted me to go to Scotland with her. I should have gone. I wish I had gone now.’ Mrs Wynniatt welcomed Irene and later described her as a pleasant and respectable young woman.

Over the next few days, Irene walked along the seafront and sat reading on the beach, still wearing her coat as she hadn’t brought a bathing costume. This wasn’t unusual in those days, when modesty rules meant few people actually swam, and even beach attire was kept fairly formal. During her stay, Irene visited a gift shop and bought a gold pencil case for her employer, John Maxwell, engraved with his initials—though she told the shopkeeper it was for her uncle. The item cost 23 shillings and sixpence, a generous purchase, especially when added to the cost of postcards and her accommodation. On the morning of Thursday 19 August, she went to the post office to send a letter to her mother asking for more money, then told her landlady she was going for a walk around Hampden Park, a public green space with a lake. She returned later, then went out again around 2:30 p.m., this time wearing her coat as the weather had turned chilly. When she didn’t come back that evening, Mrs Wynniatt assumed she was staying with a friend.

Discovery

The following afternoon, on Friday 20 August, a young boy holidaying with his parents was exploring the Crumbles – a remote two-mile stretch of grass beach and shingle between Eastbourne and Pevensey Bay. He tripped over something partially buried beneath two inches of shingle, and when his mother rushed to help, she was horrified to discover  it was a human foot. The police were called and began digging. Beneath the stones, they uncovered the fully clothed body of a woman. Her black hat had been pulled down over her face, and inside her dress pocket was a half-eaten bag of sweets. A large, bloodstained stone lay about two feet away.

Post-mortem

Dr. Ernest Cadman arrived shortly afterwards and examined the body with the help of a lamp, as the light was quickly fading into a blood-red sunset. Rigor mortis was present, and the woman’s face was covered in blood. Her jaw was damaged, and several teeth were found scattered nearby. He estimated the time of death as somewhere between 12 and 24 hours earlier and surmised that the bloody stone was the likely weapon, used to deliver a violent blow to the right side of the head. There was no evidence of sexual assault. Police surgeon Dr. James Adams conducted the post-mortem, observing extensive blunt force trauma injuries to the face, which were consistent with the heavy rock or stone. Home Office Expert Dr. Reginald Elworthy agreed with his findings but suggested that another blunt object may have been used as well.

The next day, Mrs Wynniatt, growing concerned about her missing tenant, read the news reports about an unidentified young woman found at the Crumbles. She went straight to the police and, at the mortuary, confirmed the body was that of 17-year-old Irene Munro. Authorities contacted Irene’s mother and her friend Ada, who both travelled to Eastbourne to identify her formally.

When Irene’s devastated mother noticed her daughter’s blue silk handbag was missing, reporters began to speculate that Irene had been murdered by a lover, and the handbag stolen to hide incriminating letters. Eastbourne Police, assisted by Chief Inspector George Mercer from Scotland Yard, interviewed witnesses and tried to piece together Irene’s last hours. They even displayed her clothes on a dressmaker’s mannequin and published a photo of it in the papers, hoping to jog the public’s memory.

Two workmen employed to paint Mrs Wynniatt’s lodging house recalled seeing Irene leave at around 2:30 p.m. on Thursday 19 August, walking toward the Crumbles with two young men. One workman, who had a clear view from a ladder, noticed Irene laughing and talking with them. He spotted that the younger and shorter of the two men carried a distinctive walking stick topped with a carving of a dog’s head. Soon after this sighting, sailor William Putland and ex-soldier Fred Wells saw the trio. Irene was offering sweets from a paper bag and stopped to stroke a stray kitten. They then went through a gap in the fence near the railway and disappeared from view.

Several railway workers, on their lunch break in a disused carriage nearby, also saw Irene walking past with the two young men, adding that one of them wore blue, and the other grey. The man in blue was walking arm-in-arm with Irene; they were laughing and seemed in high spirits. These railway workers were the last known people to see her alive, and her body was later found just 500 yards from the carriage. The press continued speculating about the motive, with some papers claiming Irene had led a double life, meeting men on buses and trains, and flirting with a wealthy man she called ‘Uncle’; possibly linked to the pencil case purchase for John Maxwell. Police investigated Maxwell and her ex-boyfriend Ludovic Kort, but both had solid alibis. The case stirred intense public interest, much of it judgemental, with some placing the blame on Irene for befriending men and going with them to such a lonely place.

Jack Field and William Gray

On Tuesday 24 August, four days after Irene’s body was discovered, police identified the two men seen with her before her death. One was Jack Alfred Field, an unemployed 19-year-old who had been discharged from the Royal Navy six months earlier for going AWOL, and had several theft charges to his name, including stealing from his own mother. Field was 5’4” with brown hair and grey eyes, and his solicitor described him as, ‘a dark, well set up young man who walked with a spring step and always had a smile for the girls.’ His companion was 28-year-old William Thomas Gray, known as Billy. Born in South Africa to Scottish parents, his father had committed suicide when Gray was a child. He was 5’9” with brown hair and still bore the scars of gunshot wounds to his face and leg, sustained while serving in the South African army during World War I. He had arrived in England in 1916 and married a 16-year-old Eastbourne girl. Like Field, Gray was suspected of theft but had never been charged. He drifted through a collection of short-term jobs and was unemployed at the time of the murder, financially supported by his wife, who worked as a servant.

Further witness statements

During the investigation, several women came forward to tell the police about Billy Gray’s behaviour, revealing that he regularly prowled the beach and stalked women along the promenade, posing as a bachelor to seduce them. He was also known to frequent two seafront pubs – the Albemarle and the Archery – looking for targets. That year, two women had reported being raped by him; another said he threatened to throw her off a cliff unless she had sex with him, and yet another claimed he threatened violence when she rejected him. Many victims never came forward at the time due to shame, fear, or because they thought they would not be believed. One report stated, ‘Gray’s conduct towards young girls at Eastbourne is notorious, and his wife and her mother, know of his uncontrollable lust.’ Police discovered that in the months before the murder, Gray had begun spending time with Jack Field, and the pair frequently approached young women together, convincing them into going for walks.

While waiting to be questioned, a policeman overheard Field say nervously to Gray, ‘We’re in a nice hole. We’re in a nice pickle now. How are we going to prove where we were on Thursday afternoon?’ to which Gray replied, ‘I can’t say what is going to happen.’ When giving their statements, both men denied knowing Irene Munro or visiting the Crumbles that day, claiming they had been eating ice cream and playing cards with a woman named Maud Baxter. Maud, however, told police she hadn’t seen them at all that day. Police found clothing in Field and Gray’s homes matching witness descriptions, including a walking stick with a dog’s head carving that belonged to Field’s grandmother. Gray’s trousers had several bloodstains. Suspiciously, the pair had appeared flush with money the day after the murder, smoking more expensive cigarettes, and Field even repaid a small loan – possibly with money from Irene’s missing purse, which was never recovered.

Multiple witnesses were willing to swear that Field and Gray were the two men they had seen with Irene that day, while others noted their shoes were dirty and scuffed the day after the murder, consistent with walking on the shingled Crumbles beach. Police also learned they had first met Irene the day before her death, on the Wednesday. Irene was walking alone near the Albemarle pub on Marine Parade when one of the men greeted her and asked where she was going. She invited them to join her, and the three walked along the seafront as far as Beachy Head. When they parted, they were heard agreeing to meet again the next day at the Archery pub.

Jack Field and Billy Gray were charged with Irene Munro’s murder and held at Maidstone Prison. While awaiting trial at Maidstone Prison, new evidence emerged. Archibald Darrington, who had just been committed for bicycle theft, told authorities that Gray had approached him after discovering he was also from Eastbourne. Gray asked where he had been on Thursday 19 August, and when Darrington replied, ‘At the circus,’ Gray tried to convince him to say he was there with him.

Two days later, Gray allegedly urged Darrington to tell police he’d seen a sailor struggling with a girl on the Crumbles, in an apparent attempt to frame William Putland, whom Gray named and said he intended to ‘sort out.’ Another inmate, Bill Smith, reported that Gray had described dropping a large stone on the victim. Gray also admitted being with Irene in the hour before her death, which contradicted what he had told police, which was that he hadn’t seen her at all.

Funeral

Irene’s funeral took place on 26 August at Langney Cemetery in Eastbourne, attended by 500 people. She was buried on a hill overlooking the Crumbles; a view which might have been peaceful, with its backdrop of sea and open sky, had it not been forever marked as the spot   where a 17-year-old girl on holiday had met a sudden, violent death.

Trial and Conviction

The trial was held in December at Lewes Assizes before Mr Justice Avory. Gray was defended by Sir Edward Marshall Hall, and Field by Mr John Cassels, both paid for by a tabloid newspaper hoping for an exclusive interview in return. Charles Gill led the prosecution. Both defendants pleaded not guilty, but only Field testified, denying he had ever met Irene and claiming the money he spent the following day came from his 29 shillings weekly unemployment benefit. Their denials lost credibility when evidence showed that both men had attempted to enlist in the Army the Saturday after the murder, perhaps as a means of escaping justice. Medical experts confirmed the murder weapon could have been a walking stick like Field’s, alongside the large stone. The all-male jury visited Crumbles beach to view the crime scene, and the medical evidence was considered so distressing that female spectators were asked to leave the courtroom during the pathologist’s testimony.

 

The sadness of the desolate, windswept beach and imagining Irene’s last minutes there may have weighed on the jury’s minds as they considered the evidence.  They found both William Gray and Jack Field guilty, with a recommendation to mercy on the grounds that the murder was not premeditated. Some speculated that Gray had tried to rape Irene, given his history with women. When she resisted, Field had struck her with the walking stick, before Gray delivered the fatal blow with the stone, then they stole her handbag in case it contained a clue to her identity.

Appeal and execution

Both men lodged an appeal, with each now blaming the other for the murder, but their convictions were upheld. On Friday 4 February 1921, they were hanged by Thomas Pierrepoint at Wandsworth Prison on a quiet morning, with none of the noisy protests common in more controversial cases. They were buried in unmarked graves on prison grounds. Neither had ever confessed to the crime.

Aftermath

Jack Field’s family left Eastbourne the year of the hanging, but others connected to the case stayed in the area and lived long lives, including witness William Putland, and Gray’s widow. The house where Irene had lodged with Mrs Wynniatt was later renumbered from 393 to 359, then became a working men’s club, before eventually being demolished.

Four years after the murder, another young woman, Emily Kaye, was murdered near the Crumbles by her lover, Patrick Mahon. Local rumours persisted about the atmosphere around the desolate stretch of shoreline, with some claiming to sense an oppressive and unsettling feeling there. The Crumbles was built over in the late 20^th century, erasing the original crime scene, but even though the landscape has changed beyond recognition, the tragic memory of Irene’s death remains.

Researched and written by Prash Ganendran. Published on 12 November 2025.

© 2025 Prash Ganendran. All Rights Reserved.

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Sources

• Ancestry.co.uk
• The National Archives
• Guy Logan, Casebook of Crime
• The Globe – Saturday, 21 August 1920
• Pall Mall Gazette – Saturday, 21 August 1920
• Sunday Mirror – Sunday, 22 August 1920
• Sheffield Daily Telegraph – Wednesday, 15 December 1920
• Sunday Mirror – Sunday, 19 December 1920
• Jonathan Oates, Irene Munro and the Beach Murder of 1920
• Exeter and Plymouth Gazette – Saturday, 5 February 1921
• Jonathan Goodman, Seaside Murders