The Murder of Lorraine Benson: DNA, Danger, and a System That Didn't Listen

In the winter of 1988, 22-year-old Lorraine Benson left a work Christmas party in Clapham Junction and never made it home. Her murder shocked South London – not just because of its brutality, but because it exposed the serious failings in how violent offenders were being managed. In this episode, we look at the pioneering role of DNA in solving Lorraine’s case, the disturbing history of her killer John Dunn, and the wider questions her death raised about justice, parole, and whose lives are protected.

We also briefly cover bum-counting at pop concerts, kinetic sand post-cleaner rage, and an acid attack that wasn’t acid – but was still bloody scary. It’s a mix of the ridiculous and the rage-inducing, which feels about right for the world we live in.

Sources include:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hDGbuKAZsW0

https://learningonscreen.ac.uk/lbc/search/index.php/segment/0011800490003

https://learningonscreen.ac.uk/lbc/search/index.php/segment/0011700331016

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S001573689273045X

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/1593254/
https://www.ojp.gov/ncjrs/virtual-library/abstracts/murder-south-london-novel-use-dna-profiling 

https://www.pressreader.com/uk/daily-mail/20200226/282406991384130?srsltid=AfmBOoqc1YCYaKaOymSwCHokqYOKFNTNQOiElkJHYU8mCYPzh0t0i8U5 

https://imsvintagephotos.com/products/1988-wimbledon-police-have-released-thi-lorraine-benson-nionvi-death-press-vintage-photograph-2050953?srsltid=AfmBOoqJD1HEMK_tRrT9eoPC7xWvxuKtA2UtU3u6n8F1SFPLFNmJKJUZ 

https://www.thesun.co.uk/fabulous/5845757/parents-blast-decision-to-free-taxi-rapist-jon-worboys-after-their-daughter-was-sexually-assaulted-and-murdered-by-convicted-teen-rapist/ 

Transcript

Ep 26 - Lorraine Benson

Hello, I'm Rachel, I'm Hannah, and this is the Sinister South podcast, a audio treat for your ear holes all about South London crimes. I don't like ear holes. Well, that's the mood you got me in.

I said to my daughter earlier, how was your day lover? Yes! I forgot about that. I was sitting there, innocently typing away. That's a weird thing to say.

Yeah, it was because I was going to say either lovely or bubba and it came out as, how's your day lover? Strange and family. How are you? I'm fine. I'm tired.

I've had a long lovely weekend, but it has been full on the last four days. We went to see Sam Fender on Thursday at Silverstone. Just before you speak about that, I heard you actually managed to acquire the world's best babysitter that night.

I did. I don't know how you did it, how you managed to coax them. I heard they were semi-retired because the demand on their time was so strong because everybody wanted them to babysit their children.

It's true. I mean, to be fair, how is still a mystery. I think there's some weird kind of, basically there's this weird thing that my kids have, which is where they're able to draw magnanimous people towards them, just by their being.

It was me. Trevors, it was me. I babysat all night long.

They had an absolutely fucking wonderful time. I got absolutely shafted multiple times. I don't know what time bedtime actually is, because I think that was a lie.

No, mummy and daddy definitely read us two chapters of every single book we've ever owned. Definitely got shafted there. No, no, no, we don't have the kids sized meals from KFC.

We definitely have adult larges. To be fair to them both, they eat it. I've never seen so much popcorn chicken in my entire adult life.

They both poured it out onto a plate and then went, whoa. But it went. And then I watched Inside Out 2. Even after saying, but guys, I haven't seen Inside Out 1. To which I got told, oh well.

To be fair, they are standalone stories. It was fine. It was fine.

Yeah, I did ask my big one. I did say, what time did you say to Aunty Hannah that you could go to bed? And she was like, not that much later. Like half an hour later.

I was like, but you went to. Aunty Hannah picked you up from your childminders. You went to the park.

You had dinner and watched a movie. And you had a book. Now I know what time Aunty Hannah picked you up from the childminder.

And there is not enough time between being picked up and when you're meant to go to bed. Not even if you added an extra half an hour. And she just went.

It was only half an hour. It was half an hour after the first time I went. Oh my God, you've got to go to bed.

Because we were having too much fun. Oh dear. But no, they had an absolute well of a time.

As did I. They were very good fun. Yeah, so Sam Fender on Thursday at Silverstone. And then Friday we went to the beach.

With the school. They chartered a train. Which was fun.

And I've now decided I refuse to travel by train. Unless it is my own train. Because you could just like.

I don't really want to sit near my children. I know. I'll walk to another carriage that is entirely empty.

And this is entirely safe and fine. So yeah, that was fun. And then Saturday.

It was my youngest's final birthday treat. And we went to play a round of dino golf. Indeed.

Mini golf. And then randomly ended up at Celia Hammond. And apparently we're now adopting two kittens.

Absolute insanity. Honestly. Do you know what I did think? I looked around your life.

And I thought, do you know what she needs? Two cats isn't enough. Four cats, please. We need two cats.

We need two teeny tiny. Tiny cats. Helpless kittens.

Because if anything. You're bored, right? Honestly. Especially after today.

I'll have plenty of time. Yeah. I don't know why I decided that's what we were doing.

But it seemed like a good idea at the time. And we're now locked in. And there'll be two kittens at some point.

Very sweet. In the next couple of weeks. That we're rescuing from Celia Hammond.

And then yesterday. Because it is Monday, Trevor. I took the big one to see Sabrina Carpenter.

British Summertime. And I have had my spine compressed. By about five inches.

Because she spent the majority of it on my shoulders. Because she couldn't see. But yeah.

And we did have a bum count. At Sabrina Carpenter. Which was having to explain to my child.

Why there were so many women. Do you know what? They all looked fucking fabulous. And I wish I had the confidence.

Of some of these women. But trying to explain to her. Why a lot of them had their bottoms out in the world.

Just very short shorts. Very short shorts. Or very short dresses.

Or there were lots of these corsets. That had like a heart cut out of the front. So you could just see lots of side boob.

But from the centre. So famously not side boob. No cleavage side boob.

Because it wasn't like cleavage. I had the cleavage going on. I got the memo incorrect.

And I wore a dress that made my boobs look massive. But it was a long to the floor dress. So I didn't get the memo.

That actually it should have been bums out. Tits away yesterday. And so yeah.

Got it completely wrong. But it was like yeah. These corsets.

And they had this big heart cut out right there. But it wasn't like just cleave. It was like you could see the whole side of the boob.

But from the middle. I mean they looked lovely. Good.

There was a lot of me going. I wish mine looked like that. Rather than just footballs.

That were sitting on top of my chest. Okay you. Alright Dolly.

Proper push up bra. Finally we're one with padding and under wiring in again. And Will did not know what to do with himself.

It's been almost 8 years of a non under wired bra. He's just like what is happening. Look when it flaps open.

It's functional. Yes it was white and now it is not. That's none of your business.

And frankly none of mine either. But yeah. But it was.

We had to count how many bums we saw. Which was quite amusing. But it was very lovely.

It was an all female line up. And as much as Sabrina Carpenter has been in the news for being. A little bit raunchy.

She knew her audience. She knew there were lots of children there. She toned it down.

It was very pop princessy. It's not the sort of thing I do on a regular basis. But you enjoyed it.

It was fun. I had fun with my 8 year old. That was the benefit of it.

That was the point. The point of it was to have fun. And I had fun which was good.

How about you? I've whitted on for 10 minutes. I was acid attacked. Oh yeah.

So. Way to kill the mood. That's that.

Well yes actually. Yeah fair. It was very weird.

A very weird scenario. I acted completely out of character. Usually so.

Famously. I mugged you. I was so switched on to what was going on.

I was like right this is what's happening. Fine. So I was walking along.

As is my want. As is your want. Doing my steps.

It's hard to explain. It's just a really fucking ordinary stretch of pavement. With a slightly main road.

A main-ish road. And some houses. Nothing dramatic happening.

Not like the middle of a high street in the middle of the night. Or anything like that. Just completely normal.

It was daytime. I was walking along. And this car drove past me.

And someone reached out of their window. And just threw liquid at me. And I didn't.

It kind of came. They must have started throwing from behind me. But it managed.

Their aim was spot on. They managed to get me directly in the face. And I just froze.

And I was completely still. And I was just going. Wait.

It doesn't hurt yet. Wait. It doesn't hurt.

But in that time they'd fucking driven off. So normally. The first thing I would have done.

I don't know. I had a similar. I've been happy slapped.

I had a similar thing happen there where I managed to get my phone out really quickly. When that happened. So I only had a partial photo.

But I got a photo of the person that did it nonetheless. As they got off a train. That is the kind of thing I usually react.

How I usually react. I should say. And I just stood there.

And I was like. I didn't take a picture. Can I remember the number plate? Can I remember anything? Because.

I'm not going to fucking bring 999. Although famously. Very happy to.

But I was talking to mum about it. And she said. You should at least do the online form thing on the police thing.

So if it's happening. Load. Because apparently it is a trend.

That's going around on TikTok. Where people throw water at people. And all that.

Because apparently trauma is fun. So if anyone can find me on TikTok. Being.

Acid attacked. Then. Then do share it with the Sinister South page.

Because it's all good podcast fodder. Right? Yeah. So that really threw me.

I don't blame you at all. I don't know how I would have reacted. Because I know that was the day that Will.

Came round. And you messaged him. To say I'm sorry.

I was a bit out of sorts. I'd only just got back. When he got turned up.

Because I timed my walk for that purpose. I'll be back by then. Will's coming round to do the car seats.

And him and. Nearly said her name. Him and your big one.

Got out the car. I was in the garden. And I was watering the garden.

I was like. I don't know. I just got home.

And was like I water the garden now. Your brain wasn't functioning properly. And I was kind of looking at him.

And I was like alright. I'll get the keys. I didn't ask him to come in.

I don't even think I really said hello. I just was like I'll get the keys. As if I was in.

Some kind of completely other world. And I don't really remember them being there. You've disassociated.

Completely. And it wasn't. Until.

After I suppose I'd been home for a while. And I was sat down. And I suppose I'd got.

I'd washed as well. I'd washed my hair, washed my face and everything. And I was like oh my god.

I'm just completely rude to Will. I must text him. To say I'm really sorry.

I think I was like uh huh. Yeah okay. But he told me.

When the message came through. He was like oh my god look what Hannah's just sent me. And I was like get back round there.

Get back round there right now. He's like I don't think she's fine. I think she's okay.

What the fuck. Do you want me or Rach to come back round. And I was like no.

But. In my head what made me really laugh is. What if I said yes but said him.

Just to see your reaction. And be like actually Will could you come back round. Fine.

Whatever. It's fine. You know damn well as well though.

If you had done that he would have fucking reveled in it. It would have been. I've got to go to Hannah's.

No no. You need to stay here and look after the children. Hannah needs me.

I need to go. I've been called. It's my time to shine.

And then he would have turned up. And just been like hello. This is really awkward.

What do I do. Do I give you a hug. Have you got any wiring you need me to look at.

How's your wifi signal. Do you want me to have a look. Love you really Will.

It's only funny because it's true. Oh dear. I would have been just as awkward though as well.

Hello. What do you like. Hello.

I've not got any little people for you to paint I'm afraid. You do have to explain that. Because that sounds weird.

His Warhammer stuff. I know that. Oh the Trevors know the Warhammer by now.

God's sake. You can't just say sentences like sorry I haven't got any little people for you to paint. When famously you're the parents and I'm not.

Do you want to paint my cats. Oh lord. Lord, lord, lord.

But apart from that. I'm very glad that you're okay. Yeah I'm fine.

I'm just a bit annoyed at myself. It made me think about like well not to get too deep. It made me think about how unkind I can speak to myself sometimes.

I didn't put myself in a scenario that was out of that I was in danger or stupid scenario or anything like that. It wasn't you walking home at midnight on my own or whatever. Valid.

It was the middle of the day going on my walk and also to take an ASOS parcel to the post locker. That was all I was doing. Just living your life.

Just completely living my normal life. I was so mean about my reaction that I didn't give myself any time or leeway to just be like okay that was shit. Or anything.

I was like why didn't you take a photo. You didn't even memorize the number plate. Oh my god.

There's like honestly no. So yeah that was that was that. Then I babysat your children which was good fun.

And then I had a lovely evening on Friday where I had my mother and my grandmother to the flat and we had dinner. Copious amounts of rose. Nice.

Which had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I was too sick to come to dino golf on Saturday. Didn't think it for a second. It had nothing to do.

That was medical. Yeah. That was medical.

And had nothing to do with the fact that they left at about quarter past five in the morning. Do you know what? Gran is a machine. I knew that GB and your mum were going mad and I thought it must have been terrible because she was feeling as awful as she was feeling on Saturday.

It must have been like try and entertain when you're not feeling well. It's absolutely fine mate. I don't blame you.

But we had a laugh. Good. And then I had a very wholesome Sunday.

I did a charity shop run, got rid of loads of stuff and cleared my wardrobe out and then had more. So I did a second charity shop run. Now I know my charity shop membership number thing.

They gave me a little barcode. So now I can do quick drop offs. Excellent.

Richard came home from work and I was like everything's clean and tidy. If you fuck this up I will kill you. My flat is clean.

I swear to God Richard. Honestly mate, I feel you in every single ounce of my being because my cleaner was off for two weeks. So hark at her again with the diamond shoes.

But my cleaner was off for two weeks. She went on holiday. Everyone's entitled to a holiday but I need her in my life is what I've realised.

And so we had two weeks where I was tidying and I was trying to stay on top of it but we also had birthdays and all the rest of it. She came round and she spent three hours cleaning my house from top to bottom on Wednesday and literally the joy in my heart when I walked out of my bedroom because I'd been hiding in there working because it was too hot to be in the tiny shed and the air con was in my bedroom. And I came out and she shouts see you later Rach.

And then you just survey the beauty that is just. It's so lovely. It really is.

Listen, give me your diamond shoes, let me try them on. I also have a cleaner. And it is without a doubt the best investment.

The second best investment I've ever made in myself. Nice. I just, yeah, I can't live without her now.

Cannot. And then every time the children so much as look at something, I'm like don't. Richard only has to think about making toast.

And I look at him and I'm like I know what you're thinking. And if you fucking get crumbs in my fucking kitchen I swear to God, boy. You better go to work.

You better go to work right now. Is that a sock? Is that a fucking sock? What are you doing with it? Yeah, I know it's on your foot. But where is it going to go after that? You are not thinking ahead.

I am. No, my kids are always on a Wednesday evening after they get back from various clubs that then it's like oh you know that really ridiculous kinetic sand that we've got? I want to play with that and only that. Fuck off.

No. You can literally sit on your hands and stare at the wall. Yeah, I won't let Richard use his slime.

No. I think it's a very good idea, mate. Very good idea.

I want to make my bed. No, you can't. Watch some baseball and shut the fuck up.

Dream about your toast. Toast and slime after the cleaners bin? What do you think this is? The circus? Absolutely not, boy. Right.

Well, I would say that's probably enough drivel. Fair. Fair.

Sometimes on this podcast it's like we struggle for things to say at the beginning and then other times it's just... And sometimes we do this bit and then we start telling the story and I'll now get existential dread about like oh God, what did we talk about? The crap that we spew out. Then I'll see a lovely message from a lovely Trevor being like you guys are so funny. I'm like what's wrong with you? We did have a very nice one of those on Instagram this week.

Hi Amy! Hi Amy, thank you. She was still listening to the back catalogue so don't know how long this is going to take for her to hit it but it'll be a nice little Easter egg for her. Yeah, exactly.

There we go. You've got a story for me. Yeah, and it's really horrible.

Just what we like. Right, well, I'm settled. I'm in.

You're in. I'm in. Okay.

As per usual, the references will be in the show notes. There's quite a few of them but yeah, quite a lot of weird references for this one. And I'm not going to over caveat myself so there we go.

Good, done. It's a story and I will tell you it. Southwest London in the winter of 1988 was not an easy place to be, especially if you were a woman travelling alone.

The streets around Wimbledon and Kingston were strung with Christmas lights but beneath the seasonal sparkle there was fear. A man was stalking the railway lines, preying on lone female commuters. Attacks had been mounting for weeks.

The press had already dubbed him the railway rapist. The public were warned to be vigilant and women were told not to walk home alone after dark. And then, just days before Christmas, he escalated.

Lorraine Benson was 22 years old, a photography assistant from Croydon with a bright smile, a beloved pet tortoise and a head full of dreams. On the night of the 19th of December, she left a festive work party in Clapham Junction to stay at a friend's house in Wimbledon. She never arrived.

Her body was discovered the next day, half hidden in the undergrowth near a primary school. She had been strangled, bitten and left beneath a tangle of leaves and branches. The shock was immediate and it rippled far beyond her family and friends.

Lorraine's murder became one of the most, one of the first, sorry, high profile cases in Britain to make use of emerging DNA technology. It exposed glaring failures in the probation system. It raised questions about how women's warnings were being ignored and how a violent offender had slipped through the cracks.

For weeks, officers feared they were dealing with a serial rapist who had now turned to murder. And the community feared the same. As Lorraine's father, Mick Benson, would later reflect, quote, you never think it would happen to you.

But this time, it had. Lorraine Benson was the youngest of three sisters born to Mick and Lynn Benson and raised in South Norwood, Croydon. The family lived on Woodside Park, a quiet residential road just off the tram line.

Her dad, Mick, worked as a minicab driver. Her mum, Lynn, was a homemaker. They'd met decades earlier when Mick was stationed in Dover with the army.

And by the late 80s, they'd been married for 29 years. Lorraine still lived at home with them, along with her two older sisters, Karen, 28, and Tanya, 25, who was expecting her first child. It was a busy household, full of warmth and everyday noise.

Lorraine had a pet tortoise named George and a budgie she adored. And I couldn't find the budgie's name. I'm really sorry.

She was someone who, by all accounts, brought light into the room. Kind, funny, stubborn when she believed in something, and full of ideas about what her future might hold. She hadn't had the smoothest run at school.

Academically, she'd struggled, more interested in friendships and after-school adventures than what was written on the board. But she wasn't aimless. In fact, for a time, she'd had her heart set on becoming a police officer.

It was a goal that surprised her parents, especially given her teenage defiance, but she was very serious about it. Unfortunately, her application was rejected. Her school reports let her down.

But rather than dwell on the disappointment, Lorraine pivoted. She threw herself into work, took temp jobs, moved in with friends for a bit, including a stint living in a vicarage, and eventually found something she loved even more. Photography.

Lorraine had a good eye. She invested in a decent camera, built up a portfolio, and landed a role as a photographic assistant with a company called Parasol Portraits. She was especially good with children, often coaxing smiles out of the most camera-shy toddlers.

At the time of her death, she was based at Children's World in Croydon, but was due to return to Harding & Hobbs, a department store in Clapham Junction in the new year. She'd gotten well with her colleagues when she'd been working there previously and had been excited to be invited and attend their Christmas party on the 19th of December. So it was the Monday before Christmas, and Lorraine finished her shift at Children's World and headed home to change.

She had plans that evening, the Harding & Hobbs department store, a staff Christmas party. She left home at around 5.30pm and caught a train to Clapham Junction. She'd changed into her party outfit, a mustard yellow jumper, blue jeans, and a long white hooded raincoat and brown boots.

The most 80s thing I've ever read in my entire life. She also wore a pair of her mum's hooped earrings, which were leather wrapped, stylish and sentimental. According to descriptions.

By all accounts, Lorraine was in good spirits at the party. She chatted and laughed with colleagues, had a few drinks and caught up with friends. At around 8.30pm, she stepped outside to call her dad and let him know that she wouldn't be coming home that night.

She was planning to stay at a nearby friend's house, Peter Cox, who was a close family friend and was due to be emigrating to Australia the next day. So Lorraine had intended to stay with him and then go to see him off at the airport alongside his mum, Lotta. There was no cause for concern.

Lorraine had lived with Peter before and their families were all really close. So she left the party at around 11.30pm. Two friends walked her to Clapham Junction station where she caught the 11.45 train towards Rains Park. On board she ran into George Holdsworth, a bedding salesman from the department store.

They chatted for the short 10 minute journey before they both got off and headed towards the same exit. It was late and the station was deserted. All the staff had gone.

Lorraine and George walked together through the pedestrian tunnel onto Coombe Lane. She told him she was waiting for a friend and they said their goodbyes. Lorraine walked to a row of four phone boxes just outside the station and ran Peter's landline.

Lotta answered. Peter wasn't home yet. He'd stayed out with friends a little bit longer than he'd planned.

Or... yeah. Lotta offered to come and collect Lorraine from the station but Lorraine declined, saying that she'd walk the rest of the way. It was only about a mile from the station to Peter's home on Holland Avenue.

It was a walk she'd done countless times before. It was really well lit. All residential streets.

Peter got home shortly after the phone call and was surprised when Lorraine wasn't there yet. He and Lotta assumed that the two of them must have just missed each other along the way. So they retraced the route by car scanning the streets.

After 40 minutes of no sign they started to worry. They decided to phone Mick and Lynn in Croydon. Mick answered the call half asleep but as soon as he heard the words Lorraine hasn't arrived, he jumped out of bed and was driving to Wimbledon.

By the time he got there police were already at the house. Officers from the Met launched an immediate search. Mick joined them, walking the roads with a torch, calling out his daughter's name.

Oh, bless him. In the early hours they found a single hooped earring laying in an alley off of Coombe Lane. Lorraine had borrowed that pair from her mum.

Lynn confirmed it over the phone. Oh, fuck. A short time later they found a white plastic bag that contained a cardigan which was known to be Lorraine's and four cans of lager.

Then they found one of her boots nearby. There were scuff marks on an abandoned car as though something or someone had been shoved against it and not far from the car police found a bloodstained handkerchief. At around midday the next day search dogs picked up a scent in an overgrown footpath that led to a local primary school in Cotton Park.

Under a pile of branches and leaves they found Lorraine. She was partially clothed, wearing just her socks and her jumper. Her face and head were bruised and scratched.

She had been strangled with a rope and bite marks were found on her left arm and hand. She had fought back. And not just instinctively but fiercely.

The injuries on her forearms showed extensive defensive wounds, signs that she had tried to block blows and wrestle herself free and resist at every turn. The bite marks were later matched to her attacker, proving that she had been close enough to wound him in return. Her father would later say that Lorraine chose to fight rather than give in and though the outcome was tragic, it mattered to her family that people understood the scale of her resistance.

Lorraine didn't just become a victim, she resisted becoming one until the very last moment. So I'm going on a slight side quest here just because I think otherwise it could get a bit confusing. So this side quest is the railway rapist.

So in the months before Lorraine Benson was murdered, women across South West London were already afraid. There had been whispers first quiet then louder about a man stalking women near the railway stations that traced the line from Waterloo to Kingston. The attacks all followed a pattern.

Lone women walking home from the train stations. Quiet back roads and cut throughs. A sudden ambush in the dark and then violence.

The first confirmed assault happened on the 21st of October 1988 near Norbiton Station. A 21 year old woman was dragged into an alleyway and raped. A week later, another woman just 17, was pulled off of the pavement in New Malden.

She managed to fight him off, hitting him in the face with her shoe and she managed to get away. But the attacks didn't stop. On the 21st of November, a 40 year old woman was grabbed by the throat as she passed beneath a railway bridge in Kingston.

He raped her too. Whoever he was, he was getting bolder. Police compiled a description.

Tall, around 6 footish, with unkempt shoulder length hair and a crooked nose. His eyes were described as staring. He wore a long black coat and mud stained jeans and victims often remembered a musty, sweaty smell.

By the time December arrived, there had been at least three rapes and one attempted attack. Women were being warned not to walk alone. And then Lorraine was killed.

It was impossible to ignore the similarities. She'd been walking from Rains Park Station alone after dark when she was attacked, just like the others. The murder scene was close to the locations of previous assaults.

And her killing was more brutal, yes, but to many it felt like the same pattern that had taken one step further. Detective Chief Superintendent Bernie Davis didn't rule it out. My own view is that it is someone local but we can't ignore the fact that we've had two rapes and an attempted rape in the same area that Lorraine was murdered.

So the investigations were merged. A joint task force was set up. More than 80 officers were brought in to hunt for a single suspect they feared was escalating.

And the streets responded in kind. The Kingston's Women's Centre set up a volunteer run red minibus to ferry women home on Saturday nights. Rape alarms were handed out.

Women began walking home with keys between their fingers and ropes mapped in their heads that had been communicated to people they knew. Quote, I'd prefer if we lived in a society where women could walk wherever they chose, said Sergeant Garrett. But we don't.

Even with extra patrols, the attacks kept coming. Just ten days after Lorraine's body was found, another woman was raped near Wimbledon Station. A few days later, someone tried to grab a woman in Chessington.

The city was scared. So when 19-year-old John Dunn was arrested in February of 1989 for attempting to rape a woman near Rains Park, the mood shifted. He had a violent record.

He lived nearby. He fit the profile. Could this be him? Detectives took his fingerprints and they collected a DNA sample.

They cross-referenced it against forensic evidence from Lorraine's case and from the other unsolved rapes. And what they found was unexpected. John Dunn's DNA matched a sample of nasal mucus found on the blood-stained handkerchief left at Lorraine Benson's murder scene.

It was a 1 in 1.5 million match. He was almost certainly the man who killed her. But it wasn't his DNA found at any of the railway rapist scenes.

He wasn't that man. Which meant the killer of Lorraine Benson and the man terrorising women along the railway were two different predators. One had been caught.

The other, it seemed, had simply disappeared. At the time, there was no public reckoning with that fact. The media focused on Lorraine's case.

The other attacks faded from the headlines and no one was ever charged in connection to the railway rapist series. God, I didn't know that. So another bit of a side-quest for you.

DNA profiling in British justice. Oh, I'm here for it. So at the start of 1989, DNA profiling was still more science fiction than routine policing.

The idea that you could match a person to a crime scene from the microscopic traces they left behind, such as mucus and sweat and saliva, was groundbreaking. And it was quite controversial. It had only been a year since the first successful conviction using DNA evidence in Britain.

In January 1988, Colin Pitchfork was sentenced for the rape and murder of two 15-year-old girls in Leicestershire, thanks to DNA samples that matched biological material found on the victims. And that case was a watershed moment. Forensic science had a new tool and it worked.

But applying it in live investigations was still really experimental. Most police officers didn't understand the process. Many jurors were wary of it.

And even in the media, DNA was spoken about in the same tone reserved for space-age gadgets or American imports. Which is what makes the Lorraine Benson case so significant. It was one of the first in London, and certainly one of the first in South London, where DNA profiling was used not just as supporting evidence, but as the primary investigative tool.

When Lorraine's body was found, officers recovered a blood-stained handkerchief, like I said. It looked like a minor detail at first, but it turned out to be the thread that would unravel the entire case. Forensic scientist Julie Allard was assigned to examine the evidence.

Working out of the Met Police Crime Laboratory in Lambeth, one of only a handful of sites equipped to process genetic samples at the time, she swabbed the handkerchief and found two key biological traces, blood and mucus. The blood was Lorraine's and that confirmed the handkerchief had been present at the time of the attack. But the mucus wasn't hers.

And it had come from someone who had used the cloth before wiping her blood. So the mucus sample was tested against the DNA profile extracted from John Dunn, and as I said it was a one in 1.5 million match. But the DNA wasn't the only forensic link.

Bite marks found on Lorraine's arms were compared to a cast of Dunn's teeth. A forensic odontologist concluded they were a match. Yeah, scuff marks on an abandoned car at the scene were dusted and analysed.

They showed a zigzag pattern traced in the dirt, which was consistent with the zip from Lorraine's white coat. Overlapping those marks was another impression, the fabric of a bomber jacket, which they later found the exact match for in Dunn's home. Investigators concluded the two garments had made contact with the car at the same time.

Wow! So the story in fragments was coming together, and the science was speaking more clearly than any confession. When confronted with the DNA evidence, Dunn initially denied everything. But later in writing, he confessed.

He said he'd only meant to scare Lorraine, that he hadn't meant to pull the rope so tight, and that her final words were, please don't kill me. And they were echoed in his head. But what kind of mattered for the first time in South London policing was that DNA had closed a murder case.

John Dunn was just 19 years old when his name first entered the Lorraine Benson investigation. At the time of Lorraine's murder, John was living on Amity Grove in Rains Park, barely a mile from where her body was found. He worked as a shelf stacker in a local supermarket and had recently been charged for carrying an offensive weapon.

But his real history, the one that mattered most, wasn't immediately known. It went back five years. When John Dunn was 14, he'd hit a 35-year-old woman over the head with a piece of wood during a robbery on Coombe Lane, the very same road Lorraine would later walk down on the night she was killed.

Months later, at the age of 15, he broke into a woman's home in Rains Park and held her hostage. He beat her, burned her with an iron and raped her repeatedly in her own bed before casually cycling to school and apologising to his teacher for being late. He was sentenced to just three years in a youth treatment centre.

Before his release in 1987, psychiatrists issued a stark warning. They had been unable to treat Dunn's personality disorder and believed he posed a grave risk of re-offending. That warning was passed to the probation service, but Dunn was released anyway.

And less than 14 months later, Lorraine was dead. Fucking hell! Police only revisited Dunn after he broke into a woman's home in February of 1989 and attempted to rape her using a length of rope. She fought him off and called the police, and his fingerprints were found on her windowpane.

Once in custody, detectives questioned him about Lorraine. He denied everything, said that he hadn't been in the area, claimed no knowledge of the handkerchief found near her body, etc. etc.

But then the DNA came in as a 1 in 1.5 million match to him, and the bite marks matched, and the scuff marks matched, and... And Dunn folded. He gave a written confession, saying that he'd taken LSD and drunk a mix of alcohol and taken other pills that night. He claimed he only meant to scare Lorraine, that he didn't realise the rope had tightened around her neck.

He wrote, quote, All I could think of was her saying, please don't kill me. I still have those words in my head. They will never go away, not even when I'm dead.

He also wrote to his parents, quote, I know from my deepest thoughts that you can never forgive me for what I have done. Maybe this time I can get some help to sort out my crooked and bent mind. I love you all very much and don't want to lose you.

The confession may have been remorseful, but to Lorraine's family it didn't matter. They were clear. John Dunn had been a danger from the moment he was first let out.

He hadn't slipped through the net, the net had been lifted. John Dunn appeared before Wimbledon Magistrates Court in February of 89, formally charged with the murder of Lorraine Benson. The list of additional charges included attempted rape, arson, burglary, assaulting a police officer, resisting arrest and drink driving.

He was remanded in custody while prosecutors prepared for a trial at the Old Bailey. That trial took place in October. By then the evidence was beyond dispute.

All of the DNA evidence that matched Dunn and the bite marks, etc. I've written the same thing about 4,000 times. You're fine.

Dunn pleaded guilty to Lorraine's murder. He denied the other charges, but the prosecution accepted that plea. The remaining offences, attempted rape, indecent assault, burglary with intent to rape, were left to lie on file.

The focus remained on the murder itself. For Lorraine's family, attending the trial was painful in ways that went beyond the courtroom process. They sat in the public gallery just feet away from Dunn's parents.

It wasn't their fault, Mick Benson later said. That's just the way it works. What stung more was the defence's closing statement.

Despite Dunn's guilty plea, his legal team made a claim that Lorraine may have willingly gone with him on the night that she died, suggesting that the encounter was consensual before it turned violent. Oh, fuck off. Her family had no legal right to respond.

The presiding judge, Mr Justice Waterhouse, dismissed that suggestion outright. He stated clearly that he did not believe it, and that Lorraine's character should not be under scrutiny. But for her family, the damage had been done.

Quote, we couldn't say anything about her character. I don't know how they can call it justice, said Mick. In his sentencing remarks, the judge described Dunn as an exceptional danger to women of all ages.

He referred to Dunn's previous conviction for rape at 15, and to the psychiatric reports that had warned of his likelihood to re-offend. Those warnings, the judge noted, had been dreadfully fulfilled. Quote, you should not be released until it is safe for the general public.

If that means that you will be detained for the rest of your life, so be it. Following the trial, Mick Benson renewed his public call for capital punishment to be reinstated. He wrote letters to the then Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, and the Home Secretary, Douglas Hurd, arguing that the justice system needed a more meaningful deterrent.

He received a letter of sympathy from Thatcher. From Hurd, he said, only, quote, a load of claptrap. Quote, I expect some do-gooder will decide Dunn is fit to be released after 12 years, he told reporters.

If he is, I'll be waiting for him. Mick's anger was directed not only at Dunn, but at the wider system that had, in his view, failed to keep his daughter safe. Quote, they go in for attempted rape, they come out, they rape, they come out, they murder, they come out, they murder again, nothing changes.

The sentence handed down was life imprisonment, but for Lorraine's parents, that sentence raised more questions than it answered, about what life actually means in practice and what real protection looks like for victims' families. John Dunn was sentenced in 1989, but life in the British justice system rarely means until death. From the outset, Dunn was given a minimum term and became eligible for parole in 2006, just 17 years after Lorraine Benson was murdered.

That's not, no. In the years that followed, Mick and Lynne Benson contested every hearing. They remained actively involved in the process, submitting impact statements, speaking to the press, and urging parole boards to consider not only Dunn's past, but their ongoing reality.

After a 2016 hearing, Mick spoke to the Irish Sun about the enduring absence Lorraine's death had left. Her room, he said, remained almost untouched. Photos, books, teddies still in place.

Her tortoise George was still part of the family. Oh, bless. Quote, we think of her all the time.

Would she be married? Would we have grandchildren through her by now? He also questioned the broader system that allowed for early release. Quote, I would like to think these learned characters on parole boards pay the price when miscreants re-offend. Yet you never hear of them having to explain their mistakes.

Exactly. In 2017, the parole board recommended that Dunn be moved to an open prison. He was released not long after.

For the Benson family, it wasn't about revenge. It was about permanence, about safety, about the belief that someone capable of killing a young woman after a prior conviction for rape should not be given a second opportunity. Exactly that.

Mick had once hoped that life would mean life, but by the time Dunn was released, he had stopped using that phrase. He called the justice system a circus. Quote, we're the ones who have a life sentence, and I am never going to forget, and I am never going to forgive.

Lorraine Benson's funeral was held on the 8th of February 1989 in North East Surrey crematorium in Morden. Her casket was carried into the sound of her favourite songs, including Reach Out and Touch by Diana Ross. Reverend Barbara Scales led the service and spoke of Lorraine's energy, kindness and the joy she brought to those around her.

She went out fighting with dignity, Scales said. Instead of flowers, Mick and Lynne asked for donations to Great Ormond Street Hospital, a nod to Lorraine's gentle nature and her fondness for children. More than a thousand pounds was raised.

Later the hospital confirmed that a plaque in Lorraine's name would be displayed on one of the wards. Her former workplace, Parasol Portraits, created a photography award in her memory. The best newcomer prize was named after Lorraine, offered each year to a promising young assistant like she once was.

Friends and family kept finding ways to honour her. The summer of the year of her funeral, a group of them, including police officers who'd worked on the case, completed an army assault course in Lorraine's name. She'd done the same course not long before she died.

Mick called it a fitting tribute. Quote, it just showed the amount of love felt for Lorraine. It's given us such great strength.

But strength was no substitute for peace. For months after Lorraine's death, Mick and Lynne were unable to work. They fell into debt and relied on the support from family and friends.

The Criminal Injuries Compensation Board awarded them £632 towards funeral costs. Mick called it an insult. Quote, the government can spend £40 million on remand centres, he told reporters, but they don't do an ounce to help the victims of crime.

In interviews, both Mick and Lynne spoke about the lingering weight of grief. Not just the absence of their daughter, but the silence around what happened. The if-onlys, the missed warnings, and the people who saw her struggling and assumed she was drunk because apparently that was a thing.

I didn't really put it in because it's all very hearsay-y, but Mick and Lynne do talk about it. And that she was seen kind of staggering. And they think potentially she'd already been maybe hit over the head by this point and was like staggering away from him.

Or that he was holding her up. Yeah. It was all a bit hearsay-y.

So I didn't really know where to put it. Lynne said, nothing could ever fill the terrible void in our lives or replace her love for us. The family circle has been cruelly broken.

In a 2019 interview, Mick spoke candidly about living with loss. Sometimes he would talk to her before bed, thank her when he got a quiz question right on eggheads. Quote, we brought her ashes home so she's still here with us.

And I still say goodnight. Oh, bless. Oh.

Well done. Yeah. That wasn't a fun one.

No. It's it's, yeah. He raped a woman and went to school.

Got convicted of it. Three years. Was told he will re-offend.

And not only did he re-offend and murder Lorraine, he then re-offended again. Yeah, because that was the thing I was going to ask, because it didn't make, like, at first, when you said that his DNA had been found and stuff, it was like, well, what put him in the crosshairs, if you like? And then to kind of go, like, you know, was it hedging their bets somewhat that they've got this bloke in who has raped someone so they're just sort of like, well, we'll ask him about it and see? I think because they'd, because there had been the Railway Rapist series of crimes, there was a lot of attention on any sexual assault, any rape, any, like, there should be anyway. But, like, when, yeah, and then Lorraine's murder wasn't thought of in isolation, which paid off because they found him.

And, like, if, you know, if DNA hadn't been a thing, and he'd been, like, he'd just been arrested from the fingerprints on the windowsill for the rape, they wouldn't, they might not necessarily have ever put two and two together, but because there was so much going on, and they had come together to get a task force to look at the rapes in a holistic way, she was, her case was brought into that, so it was kind of... Yeah. Well, it's fascinating. Like, the way that, this is what I don't understand, I mean, I understand that I'm not going to understand how the police work because I'm not a police person, but, like, there are some cases where it's, like, it's so fucking obvious that they're linked, and yet, no, no, no, no, we're not looking at these in conjunction, and then there's others where it's, like, because I know that she was, she only had her jumper and her socks on.

And she was raped. Right, so that's the thing, because I was going to say, like, I don't know if it was, you know, how would you necessarily align those two, because I know you were saying that it's the strangulation and the bite marks, but I didn't know if there had been a very obvious... But I think that also was, it's just the locality of it all. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Like, it was all in such a pattern, like... But that's also terrifying. And not that it wasn't him that did the others. But that's also terrifying, to think that there's someone out there who... Got away with it.

Just completely got away with it. And the idea of, like, you're walking under a railway bridge, and then somebody grabs you from behind. Like, fuck me, I'm never walking under a railway bridge at night.

Why do you think I have such a go at you? Well, no, I know, but, like, there were times... Well, go home at night, yeah, it's fine. Oh, yeah, because we don't do this podcast and routinely look at these cases. Yes, I know, I know, I know.

But it's, it's like... Yeah, it's just, it's sinister. It's horrible. It's... And I can completely understand Mick and Lynn's... They're just so angry.

I get it. I get it. It is interesting in this country, where... I mean, we've... We won't go down the route again, because we've done it a few times before.

But, like, you know, I'm not a fan of capital punishment. No. I don't think that capital punishment should be a thing.

But... So I'm not personally calling for it to come back. I mean, there are always exceptions. But, you know, on the most part, probably not.

But it does baffle me that we live in a society where you can take a life and you can... Like, some people... It's different. There's crimes of passion where you don't mean to. There's accidental... You know, you hit someone with a car and they die.

Like, all of those things are still absolutely horrific. But I can understand those not... That's not necessarily, let's put you away forever, lock the door, throw away the key. But there are some people where, actually, that is the only thing that you should do.

And the idea that you can go, oh, yeah, they were given life with a minimum of 35 years. Well, okay. If they're in their 70s, then great.

That is going to be the end of their life. They're 19. Yeah.

It's like... And the fact that he was given 17 years. And I get that your brain isn't fully developed until you're in mid-20s and all of that sort of stuff. But this is a pattern that has been going on since the boy was 14.

Like, there is something not okay. And whether that ends up being that he's remanded in a psychiatric... And I know it's the 80s, so it's an entirely different viewpoint on psychiatry. But whether it is a psychiatric ward where he's held indefinitely because he is not safe or it is... And psychiatrists have said he's not safe.

We've not been able to treat him. He will reoffend. And he did.

And it's just baffling as to how you can... What do you have to do to be deemed so dangerous that you are kept in? You look at some of the people who are in prison and where life in this country generally does seem to mean life. It is the serial killers, the big names, you know, the big hitters. I mean, I'm not going to get into Charles Bronson, but Charles Bronson is still in prison and that man didn't kill anybody.

Like, I'm not saying that he shouldn't be. I know what you mean. You know what I mean? It just seems mad.

It does seem very for want of a better word schizophrenic. Yeah. It's like, okay, life means life for that person.

It means 12 years for that person. It means four years for that person. It means out on good behaviour for that person.

It means never coming out for that. It's like the guy who's in the glass box and is never allowed out of solitary confinement. I know that what he did was bad, but at the same time, was it that in comparison? And whose comparison are we taking? Who's getting to make these, what feels like, arbitrary, subjective decisions? I know we have sentencing guidelines.

I know we have, you know, there are processes and procedures in place that you would hope that the justice system... It just seems a bit like a dark art. It's a dark art or it's a lottery. It just depends on who you've got that day as to whether or not you get the book thrown at you or not.

And it's fucking warped because I think that there's, you know, on both sides, you've got people who are being unduly and unfairly, in some regards, treated in an excessive way. Like the man in the box, like Charles Bronson, all of that sort of stuff. And then you've got people who are just being allowed to go and do it again.

Yeah. I mean, is there any update on where he is now? I suppose it's all sealed stuff. Fucking hell.

I'd love to speak to someone in that world. I'd just be like, okay, explain the sentencing in this case. Explain the sentencing in this case.

It is fascinating because I think at least, and don't get me wrong, the American system has a lot of things wrong with it. But at least over there, it's life without parole. It's life without parole.

We're not even going to have the discussion. You've done something so heinous that this is your comeuppance. Off you go.

Why? Why is that? Again, I know that there's so many caveats. The fact that I am now caveating my own opinion will probably explain why it's so bloody difficult to figure all this out. I know that the argument is that if he's 19 at the time, if he was 15 at the time, it's against your human rights, your liberties to be incarcerated forever.

They do need to take some of it into account. But... You can see a pattern of escalation. You can see... If the probation service had heeded the warning at that point and he had spent longer incarcerated at that point, even if it was 10 years, if there had been a serious sentence with serious rehabilitation work, it might have been the right thing to do.

Lorraine would be alive. It just feels like both times that he's been sentenced it's been unduly lenient. And why? What is it? Because you're right.

A psychiatrist has said this man will re-offend. He re-offends. He goes to prison.

He doesn't only re-offend once as well. He re-offends. One of them is murder.

He goes to prison and does another... for the crime, unduly short sentence and is out. It's just... It's weird. If any Trevors out there do work in the probation system, genuinely, please give us some indication as to why on earth this could happen.

They'll be mitigating circumstances and it will be due to the case itself. There's probably people screaming at us. Educate us.

Tell us why this happens because it doesn't seem to be any rhyme nor reason. As it's been said not just by Mick but by lots of people, the victim's families are the ones with the life sentence. They are never getting that person back.

It does feel incredibly unfair that the person that took something precious to them someone precious to them then gets a chance to have their life again. It doesn't sit right. It's not great.

I would love to be educated on why this happens. Same here. Thank you, mate.

Very well told as per usual. Very well researched. It was a horrible case.

I think that leads us to the nice things, right? Let's do the nice things. We have a Patreon. We haven't forgotten about you.

There is a Patreon episode coming out I believe it's Monday week. You can go over there if you are a £5 and up patron. You can go and listen to a smaller case that we're covering.

I believe this one is Sunny Booty. That's me. It is you.

That's going on over there. If you want to go and check it out then please do. We still think that you're mad if you donate money to us.

We love you. No, we've got to stop saying that apparently. Oh, okay.

We don't. You're not mad. You're very intelligent people.

We're not undermining your intelligence in what you're doing. No. We're thanking you and we're saying that's great.

Thanks. If anyone else wants to go and look at that then it's patreon.com forward slash Sinister South. Then we've got the website which is sinistersouthpod.co.uk where we upload more of the details of each case.

We've got the Instagram which is sinister south pod. Come over there and leave us a nice note. As we said we've had some nice ones recently which have been lovely.

We love hearing from you. Please come and say hello. We've got the TikTok where I do the floating heads which again is Sinister South.

We've got the email. You can email us and have a chat sinister south podcast at gmail.com. Indeed it is. There we go.

Then there's the Facebook group Trevor's Unite by the lovely sometimes not lovely the lovely not lovely Lou. Where people chitchat about us chitchatting and you can go and chitchat with them if you fancy. Do it.

I think that's about it then. That's it. That's cool.

I've got a story for you next week. It's going to be I'm thinking if I've got my timings right it's going to be quite topical. So we shall see.

Maybe I'll get a Martianess. But on that note Trevor's Go and re-listen to the Martianess because nothing winds Rachel up more than seeing those download numbers climb. It's the best case any podcast has ever done.

It's the best episode of any recorded series of anything. And it was me. To be fair it's incredibly well told.

It is where we get shlag from. I love the numbers. I don't even think I re-listened to it to sign it off.

I think I've recorded it and I'd never listen to it again. It is a very good episode. I just genuinely am like I want to know how.

How did we get it to have so many views that it listens. I want to be able to replicate it. I just can't figure it out.

It's doing my marketing brain. Fine. I'll pull another big one out of my ass at some point.

Yes you will. Alright then Trev, we love you lots. We do.

See you next week. I love you. Goodbye.

Goodbye.