A teenage killer who talked his way into the noose

On Aug. 26, 1951, Herbert Leonard Mills was charged with murder. It was not evidence that finally caught up with him, but his own uncontrollable need to be noticed. Four months later, the 19-year-old was hanged at Lincoln Prison.
Mills had killed Mabel Tattershaw, a 48-year-old housewife from the Daybrook area of Nottingham. She vanished on Aug. 3, 1951, after saying she was heading to her brother's house. One of her two teenage daughters reported her missing, but the case drew little attention — despite the unsolved murder of another woman, Florence Weatherall, only months earlier.
Tattershaw had taken unusual care with her appearance that day, including putting on makeup. Mills later described how he talked to her at a cinema, then took her to an old orchard called The Jungle, near what is now Woodthorpe Park, where he pinned her to the ground with a coat and strangled her.
For days, no one found the body. So Mills took a fatal risk: he decided to "discover" it himself.
Instead of calling police, he called the News of the World. The reporter who took the call was Norman Rae, one of the most famous crime journalists of the era. On Aug. 25, 1951, Mills met Rae in the lobby of a Nottingham hotel and began to talk. And talk.
Stephen Dennis, head interpreter at the National Justice Museum in Nottingham, said: "He talked a lot, so much so he gave away a lot of details about the crime. And of course the reporters thought this was suspicious, along with the fact he hadn't called police."
Mills had already been questioned once at Leenside Police Station and released. Rae, however, saw through him. Crime historian Steve Fielding said police suspected Mills from the start, adding "his story never rang true." Fielding described Mills as a "fantasist" and said: "I think Norman Rae also suspected him from the off. It was just a case of, 'If he talks long enough, he'll say something that incriminates him.'"
Rae promised Mills £80 for his story and met him at the Black Boy Hotel in Nottingham. Over several interviews, Mills produced statement after statement. Finally, in a carefully written confession on the hotel's headed notepaper, he wrote: "I had always considered the possibility of the perfect crime of murder. I am very much interested in crime. Here was my opportunity. I have been most successful, no motive, no clues. Why, if I had not reported finding the body, I should not have been connected in any way whatsoever. I am quite proud of my achievement."
The next morning, Rae walked Mills to the police station, where the confession was handed over. Mills was charged with murder on Aug. 26.
The case became a national sensation. Fielding said: "It was a national news story and made the front pages of the morning papers, like The Express and The Mirror. It's not surprising because it involved the News of the World and Norman Rae, who was the biggest crime reporter of the day. For him to be involved, it would always make headlines, but other aspects made it quite sensational."
At the time, the case was ranked alongside infamous British crimes such as the Jigsaw and Brighton Trunk murders. Today, it is largely forgotten.
At trial, which began in Nottingham on Nov. 19 and lasted just four days, the prosecution described Tattershaw as "a woman of small significance, unattractive in appearance and very poor... there could be no reason for destroying such an inoffensive person." The defense called Mills a "desperately lonely, hateful boy, whose character was a mixture of cruelty and boastfulness."
Mills pleaded not guilty, claiming his confession had been a ruse to inflate the value of his story. But hair and fibers linked him to Tattershaw, and his mental state did not meet the strict legal test for insanity. The jury took 25 minutes to convict him.
There was no appeal. On Dec. 11, 1951, Mills was hanged by Albert Pierrepoint, the era's most prolific executioner.
Dennis called Mills "strangely delusional." "What was he trying to prove? That he was some sort of criminal mastermind? He clearly was nothing of the sort," he said. "He hid the body but when no one found it, instead of keeping quiet, he did the opposite."
Fielding said the case was "quite unique" because the suspect actively sought out the press. "It's normally the journalist who approaches the suspect, not the other way round," he added. "He was trying to do what he called the 'perfect murder' but the body had lain there for the best part of a week and he got impatient. So he pretended to discover his own murder and set off this chain of events."
Dennis noted that Mills was the last man sentenced to death in the courtroom now preserved at the National Justice Museum. "We discuss many crimes and murders here, but they are usually Georgian and Victorian. When we mention the Mills case, and that it was in 1951, people are taken by surprise," he said. "It's just about in living memory, that someone can go from crime to confession to hanging in just four months. It's a very odd case, the motives are strange, but ultimately, it's a horrible murder."
