Prime Crime: Solved Murders - Dagmar Petrzywalski Pt. 1

Episode Date: November 3, 2021

In 1940s England, an unlucky passerby found a woman's body on the side of a busy roadway. With a knitted bag as their primary clue, local police teamed up with Scotland Yard to solve the case. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Due to the graphic nature of this murder case, listener discretion is advised. This episode includes dramatizations and discussions of murder and assault. We advise extreme caution for children under 13. In 1940 and 1941, near the beginning of World War II, bombs from Nazi Germany decimated London. The brutal attack lasted eight long months, and it became known as the Blitz. When the war finally ended in 1945, millions were dead, and parts of the British capital had been reduced to rubble. Brits were desperate to leave this darkness behind

and move into a new era of hope. The post-war years became known as the age of austerity. England embarked on a nationwide effort to rebuild, relying on frugal living, strong community, and hard work. This labor, especially in commercial industry, transformed the sleepy streets outside the capital into bustling thoroughfares. By 1946, even the peaceful A-20,

a roadway from rural Kent County to greater London, was busy with traffic. Commercial truckers called lorry drivers in Britain transported paper, bricks, and other rebuilding materials along this route. As new buildings shot up around London, optimism was in the air. It felt like violence and brutality were firmly in the rear view. Until one lorry worker spotted something sinister, abandoned in the grass, just off the side of the road.

Welcome to Solved Murder's True Crime Mysteries, a Spotify original from Parcast. I'm your host Carter Roy. And I'm your host, Wendy McKenzie. Every Wednesday, we step into the world of true crimes' most fascinating murder cases. and tell the tale of how real-life detectives closed the case. You can find episodes of Solve Murders and all other Spotify originals from Parcast for free exclusively on Spotify. This is our first episode on the murder of Dagmar Petchiavalski, a British woman who went missing in 1946. This week will follow local law enforcement in Scotland Yard as they team up to crack the case.

Next week, we'll dive into the sordid past of... of the police's top suspect and the shocking secrets that led to his crime. We have all that and more coming up. Stay with us. Own it all. Pay off your home, travel for life, drive a Ferrari. In celebration of the world premiere of the Monopoly Big Board Buckslot Machine by Aristocrat Gaming, Yamava Resort and Casino at San Manuel is giving one person a $1.6 million dream package. The biggest prize in Yamava's history. Club Serrano members can earn daily instant prizes and secure a spot in the finale May 29th.

Don't pass go and own it all. Only at Yamaba, celebrating its 40th anniversary. You win? Details at Yamava.com must be 21st. Please gamble responsibly. Monopoly is a trademark of Hasbro. Hasbro is not a sponsor of this promotion. On Thursday, October 31st, 1946, light rain marked Joe Hammond's noon drive along the A-20. As a delivery driver for the London paper mills, he'd seen the city collapse under the Blitz firsthand. He now took his part in austerity measures seriously. PINCHING Pannies to help rebuild his country. That's why when he saw a navy blue woman's shoe resting in the grass, it caught his eye.

He pulled over and hopped out of his truck. New shoes were a luxury in post-war London, so finding a pair tossed on the side of the A-20 was an opportunity Joe couldn't pass up. He hoped to surprise his wife with him as a gift. He just had to find the other shoe. He scanned the area for the missing footwear. What he noticed made his flesh crawl. The pastoral piece of the embankment was clearly disturbed.

Grass was matted down as if stomped on. Joe crept towards a bramble bush. As he pushed the branches aside, he found the missing shoe. Still attached to the foot of a woman crumpled in the grass. The woman's stockings were ripped. Her limbs were spayed out, and her face was half covered by her clothes. Even without checking for vitals, Joe knew she was dead. With shaking hands, he clutched the shoe to his chest and raced back to his lorry.

He peeled out, heading for the nearest phone box. I need to report a body, a murder. Sir, we're in Kent, not home to many murders. I found a woman, off the A-20 and Rutum. Her body. It's not right. Someone killed her. Are you certain? Yes, please. Set someone right away. All right, sir. Just tell me where you are and sit tight by the phone box.

Someone will arrive shortly. At first, Joe Hammond did as he was told. But as the minutes ticked by and no policeman arrived, his anxiety spiked. A woman was dead in a ditch and authorities were nowhere to be found. So Joe rang up the police station again. They told him to head to the home of the Kingsdown police officer PC King. When Joe knocked on the door, the officer's wife invited him inside. Joe was clearly distraught, but Mrs. King tried to put him at ease.

She poured him a cup of tea and said her husband was out for a bike ride and would be home soon. Joe had no choice but to wait in the King's home. I just don't know who she could be. The 820s for vehicle traffic. Not walkers, especially not single women. I'd guess she's a local. It would only make sense, what with everything that's gone on here in the last few months. Here?

What could possibly happen in Kent? Well, no one likes to talk about it much, but there was another murder just three months ago. A young girl, maybe 11. Sheila Martin? She was assaulted, the poor thing, raped and then strangled. Perhaps the killer struck again. More tea? The case Mrs. King mentioned remained unsolved,

even after her husband brought in a famous Scotland Yard detective to help crack it. Neither Mrs. King nor Joe wanted to voice the possibility that such a failure of justice could happen again. After all, they were both clinging to the notion that terrible things were firmly in the past. They continued to chat, unaware that the case of the unidentified woman was already, beginning to unfold. Back near the A-20, where the body had been discovered, a police sergeant from a neighboring village arrived. His name was Sergeant Thomas Pettit, and he got straight to work.

The crime scene spoke for itself. Partway up Roodham Hill, a picturesque hiking spot, a woman lay crumbled in the bushes. Although she'd been there for hours, officials still needed to officially certify her as dead. Sergeant Pettit called Dr. Norman Hay Bolton to the site to examine the body. Note that the subject appears to be middle-aged. Few other distinguishing features.

No sign of a pulse. She's certainly dead. Any signs of struggle, doctor? Self-defense? Unclear. If I disturbed the body too much, it might make the work harder for you, boys, when you process the scene. If we're able to process it. You're not confident in your team?

I'm not confident in something like this. Not after that Sheila Martin case. Never caught the killer. That was a strangulation death, correct? There's clear signs of strangulation on this woman's neck, too. Christ. I need to make a call. Things escalated quickly.

As Sergeant Pettett gottered detectives to the scene to begin processing, PC King, the King's Down police officer, finally arrived home. He took a statement and the single shoe from Joe Hammond and passed both along to the detectives now on the case. With that, Joe was sent on his way to finish his delivery to the paper mill. Joe drove off in his lorry hoping he could finally put this horrible day behind him. He had no clue he'd just kicked off a shocking investigation, one that would eventually involve Scotland Yard itself.

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Some groups convene in the shadows. Others operate in plain sight. All are absolutely sinister. Follow sinister societies free and only on Spotify. Now back to the story. On October 31st, 1946, an unidentified middle-aged woman was found murdered just outside of Kingsdown, England. Kent County Police immediately launched an investigation. The woman's body had been hidden in the bushes,

off the A-20 roadway. There was no purse, no ID, and no other identifying belongings nearby. This meant the investigation would be difficult, requiring as much manpower as the local municipality could muster. Detective Superintendent Frank Smead of the Kent Criminal Investigation Division was called in to oversee the crime scene. He had covered a few murders in his time, but none this tricky. Detective Smead sent his men to scour the location for clues.

He then called for home office pathologist Dr. Cedric Simpson, the man who could bring a doctor's eye to the crime scene and eventually carry out the autopsy. But when Dr. Simpson arrived, he wondered if they were equipped to handle this case on their own. Detective Smead, is this your man taking pictures? He's photographing asphalt lines. Surely they can't provide insight into this.

Look around, doctor. We've got a woman's body, no identification, no signs of a fight, no footprints. We might be grasping its straws, but they're all we've got. Fine. There might be some loose hair caught in her hairnet. Collect them for samples, even if it's her own. But her clothing is hardly disturbed. Could rule out sexual assault.

What about her coat? It's torn. And there scratches along her legs, there. Could be signs of having been drag. I don't think we're looking at the murder site here, Detective. I believe this woman's body was dumped. By the looks of her clothes, I'd say she was poor. Robbery wasn't a motive.

No sexual assault. No robbery. The body was dumped. God, this thing looks unsolvable. Possibly. But perhaps there's someone who can crack it. The someone, Dr. Simpson mentioned, was famed Scotland Yard Detective Robert Finghambert Fee.

Fabian, and this wasn't his first time in Kent County. Three months prior, he'd been called to solve the Sheila Martin case, the 11-year-old girl that had been found raped and strangled in the outskirts of Kingsdown. Detective Chief Inspector Fabian was well known in the law enforcement community, having spent the past 20 years rising through the ranks. Now, 45, Fabian had spent half his life learning the ins and outs of the London crime scene. He was fond of the idiosyncrasies of thieves and drug dealers and even more fond of putting them behind bars. But the case of Sheila Martin proved to be a rare failure.

All the clues he uncovered led to dead ends. So Detective Fabian jumped at the chance for a do-over. After conducting an autopsy on the unidentified woman, Dr. Simpson reached out to his old colleague directly. Detective Robert Fabian arrived in Rudham in a matter of hours, and Dr. Simpson met him at an inn. He handed him his findings, and then Detective Fabian got to work. Few immediate clues jumped out. The autopsy showed that the woman hadn't been sexually assaulted.

In fact, she'd likely been a virgin at the time of her death. She'd been between 40 and 50 years old. Like many Brits, she was likely poor or excessively thrifty. In addition, Dr. Simpson found that she'd been strangled to death with some type of ligature. She'd also likely been transported from the scene of the murder to the side of the A-20. Finally, the autopsy revealed lividity, or the post-mortem pooling of blood due to gravity in her buttocks and thighs. The pooling meant that after the murder, her body had probably sat upright for a long period of time. It was an interesting piece of information, but officers didn't know how to make sense of it yet.

Instead, they focused on identifying the murdered woman. Detective Fabian sent out a description to all the local press outlets, brown hair, blue eyes, pronounced front teeth, blue overcoat with orange lining. The information would run in local newspapers the next morning. At 9 a.m., the following day, November 1st, 1946, Detective Fabian and Detective Smeid received a call to come down to the station. 79-year-old Mamma Petchivalsky had read the description in the paper and recognized the murdered woman. The body on the side of the road belonged to her daughter.

Ma'am, please accept my condolences for your loss. Your daughter didn't deserve this, and neither do you. I'll need to ask a few questions if you're able. I don't know what to do I just don't know what I'll do Can we get you some tea? Rawlings, bring us some Earl Grey Thank you It's just a terrible shock

Dagmar was such a sweet girl Dagmar That's your daughter's name Yes Dagmar Petrovsky Most just call us Peter It's easier Oh

Who would have done such a thing to her. Did your daughter have any enemies? An old boyfriend, someone like that? No one. Dagmar was a good girl. She worked at the post office for 25 years as a telephone operator before the war, but she got sick after the blitz. Her nerves suffered from all the bombs, and she had an internal problem. She'd only moved back home from London a few years ago. two live together? She built a small hut just away from the main home, kept to herself most of the time, raising her chickens, growing her garden, and taking care of me. Oh, I just don't know what to do. Is there anything you can think of, anything at all? That might help us find out what happened.

Well, she always carried a yellow string bag. It was a gift from her sister-in-law. She never went anywhere without it. I'd also given her a brown attache case for carrying sandwiches, and she'd have had a brown and white puppy with her to bring to her brother. Detective Fabian put together a clear picture of 48-year-old Dagmar Petjavalski. she was a self-sufficient woman, the poster child for British austerity. Her clothes were handmade, her food homegrown.

She pinched pennies, darned socks, and stretched her ration books. The hut she'd built on her mother's land was barely big enough for a bed and some food storage. There was no electricity, only an oil lamp that Dagmar hardly used so as not to run out of fuel. She even made a habit of hitchhiking or thumbing rides, perhaps to avoid paying for public transportation. It was a practice mama had begged her daughter to stop, but at 48, Dagmar rarely listened. Instead, she rode with commercial lorry drivers, figuring they were trustworthy enough. In fact, the day before her death, Dagmar had told her mother that she planned to hitchhike to her brother Rafe's home in Woking. The journey would take her about 50 miles east of Kingsdown,

but it was a necessary trip she needed to make a delivery. Dagmar had just bought her mother a black and tan puppy named Hedy to keep her company. But Hedy proved to be a boisterous companion, barking often, and requiring more attention than the 79-year-old Mame could give her. So Dagmar was taking the energetic dog to her brother and his wife Elena, perhaps as an unexpected gift. On October 31st, Dagmar left her mother's home with a puppy in her arms. She waved goodbye, walked about a mile down the road, and if all went as it should have,

hitched a ride to Woking. That was the last time Mama ever saw her daughter alive. All of this information painted a compelling picture of Dagmar. She was a simple woman trying to make her way in post-war England. It was unclear why anyone would be. want to hurt her. So detectives, Fabian and Smead, had a new task ahead of them, identify a suspect. Dagmar had clearly hitched a ride with a stranger, so they started looking into drivers who may have been on the road that morning. They also believed the murderer might have had a relationship

with Dagmar, so they looked at the 48-year-old's family. Her father had passed earlier in the year. her mother was frail and elderly. The only potential suspect they knew of was her brother, Raff. But Raph, a quiet civil servant, was an unlikely killer. He told the detectives he'd last seen Dagmar on October 18th, when she showed up out of the blue a week before her birthday. Rave had only seen his sister briefly because she'd arrived moments before he left for work. Instead, Dagmar had spent most of that visit with his wife,

Elena. They had tea, and Elena gave Dagmar her birthday gift, a yellow hand-croached string bag. Dagmar thanked her, then took a return train back home. Neither Rafe nor Elena had seen her again before her death. Still suspicious, Detective Smead ran Rafe's prints against those on file. Nothing came back. It seemed the family angle was bust. With that, it seemed more likely. that Dagmar had been killed by a stranger, which made law enforcement's job even more difficult. She could have hitched a ride with anybody. But it wasn't all bad news. The conversation with Raph reminded Detective Fabian of a detail Mrs. Petjavalski mentioned earlier, the yellow string bag.

You said Dagmar would have had the crocheted bag with her on the morning of her disappearance, correct? I'm certain she did. She carried it everywhere. Come here, you we things. Come get dinner. You also mentioned the brown attache, the puppy, anything else you can think of. Oh, I don't know. She bought a men's vest the same day we got heady. It was very inexpensive. She said she might make something from the fabric. Now, please, detectives, I need to get back to the chickens. Without Dagmar, I'm the only one here to care for them.

A yellow string bag, a brown attaché, a missing puppy, three items that hadn't been found with the body or at the crime scene. Whoever killed Dagmar had gone to great lengths to conceal her identity. But the detectives had a hunch that if they could locate that string bag, it would lead them to the killer. Up next, Detective Fabian gets his first big break in the case. Now back to the story. On November 1st in 1946, famed Scotland Yard detective Robert Fabian, discovered the identity of a murder victim dumped on the side of the road in Kent County. The woman was 48-year-old Dagmar Pet Cholvalsky,

a local recluse who spent her days pinching pennies and thumbing rides. Fabian had three clues to follow up on, a puppy named Hetty, a brown attache case, and a hand-croached yellow string bag. The detective unleashed the full force of Kent County law enforcement enlisting every available officer. They continued questioning lorry drivers that people Dagmar might have hitched a ride with.

They needed to track down every driver who traveled the A-20 on the morning of Dagmar Petjavalski's death. Police questioned 1,300 delivery men. Detective Fabian learned that at least one other driver had spotted the lone shoe resting in the grass off the A-20 Joe Hammond had simply been the first to stop. Without him, Dagmar's body may have gone undetected for days, weeks, or even longer. A hitchhiking woman had also been seen by a pair of drivers in the general area, between 5 and 6 a.m.

One man noticed a light-colored scarf around her neck. The detectives began to speculate that she'd been picked up around this time and dumped only an hour later at 7 a.m. but hard evidence still eluded them. Days passed. All the drivers they talked to were able to account for their whereabouts on the morning of the murder. No one had seen the black and tan puppy.

Same one for the brown attache case, and most frustratingly, the yellow string bag. Detective Fabian's worries crowded over him. It was a repeat of Sheila Martin. Self-doubt bubbled up, making him feel helpless against such. senseless violence. He brooded nightly at the local end.

His partner, Sergeant Rawlings, tried to boost morale. Another pint. Anything for you, Rawlings? I'm still working on this one. You might do well to slow down a bit, sir. Getting a bit drunk helps the mind. Everything about this case. Things just won't fit together the way they're supposed to.

It's maddening. It's tough. I agree. We'll have to keep at it. Like we kept at Sheila Martin? That was different. Different, how? We questioned every possible suspect and nothing.

Isn't the exact same thing happening now with the lorry drivers? Perhaps, but I have faith. In God? And you, Robert, in that brain of yours, Sheila Martin was an anomaly. We're taking on dozens of other cases, and you know what always gets us through? You. Well, I suppose I need to keep thinking. I'll be done with beer for the night.

How about a game of snugger? Encouraged, Fabian studied the lorry roots, the areas Dagmar routinely traveled, and the distance between Kingsdown and her brother's house in Woking. Suddenly, something jumped out at him. Dagmar's body was dumped five miles in the opposite direction of where she'd been headed. This was a huge breakthrough. Perhaps Dagmar had been picked up on her way to woking by a delivery man and killed inside the vehicle.

The murderer could have left her in the passenger seat, continued on to London to finish his deliveries, and then dumped the body on his return home. It was a chilling proposition, but it was possible. This theory also matched an important detail in the autopsy report, the levidity present in Dagmar's thighs and buttocks. The blood pooling in those spots indicated she'd been sitting upright for a period of time after her death, perhaps during her murderer's delivery route. With this puzzle piece in place, a new idea dawned on Detective Fabian.

On November 5th, he raced to Dagmar's brother and sister-in-law's house. Detective Fabian, is everything all right? The bag, the string bag, can you make another one? The string bag? What are you... We need to figure out where Dagmar was killed if we're going to close in on a suspect. But I need to find her belongings to point us in the right direction.

Right, the yellow bag I crocheted for Dagmar for her birthday. I think I can make another one. Today, now. Stay up all night if you have to. We just need that bag. Of course, Detective. But why is this so important? Miss, trust me when I say this is the only way to keep the trail from going cold.

I'll be back tomorrow to pick up the bag. Don't waste a single moment. Elena Peters stayed up all night recreating the yellow string bag. With its handmade pattern and distinctive drawstrings, it stood out amongst the muted colors and drab hand-me-downs that made up most of austerity-era Brits' wardrobes. As soon as the bag was finished,

Detective Fabian had its photograph published in as many newspapers as possible. He hoped to catch the attention of anyone who might have seen something. It seemed like a long shot, but just two days later, on November 7, 1946, Fabian's bet paid off. Peter Graham Nash,

a 15-year-old farm boy from a nearby village, called the police. He'd seen the photo of the string bag in the Kent Messenger, and he swore he'd found one just like it a few days prior. Peter said he'd stumbled on the bag

while walking in Clare Park. The area had a small lake. He passed by and saw the bag floating in the water. Hoping there'd be money inside, he fished it out. It was empty, so he ended up giving it to a neighbor. It was only a matter of hours before Dagmar's original bag was in police custody. Though the bag had been washed and handled, they were still able to find a hair matching Dagmar's and another from a dog. Detective Fabian buzzed with renewed energy. This was the first tangible piece of evidence his men had found, and he was sure there was more just around the corner.

So Detective Fabian instructed investigators to turn their focus to Claire Park in the surrounding areas. A search party poked through every bush, turned over every leaf, and knocked on every door. Even Detective Fabian explored the location a new question now plaguing him. Claire Park was miles away from where the body had been found. There were no commercial roads going in or out, and certainly no nearby routes for lorry drivers. He couldn't figure out how on earth the bag had ended up there. That is, until he had an encounter with a local woman who was involved with the girl guides, a group similar to today's Girl Scouts.

Well, you don't know exactly how their conversation went, but it may have been something like this. Excuse me, Miss, Detective Fabian, Scotland Yard. Oh, what can I help you with? with Detective? This stream here. I've noticed that it connects to Claire Lake. Do you know where it might originate? Hmm.

Well, it runs right under the paper mill, just upstream. Although now the mill's Goldwell cider works. It just changed hands a year ago, but it was a paper mill all my life, even back when I was playing in this very stream as a girl guide. You played in this stream? Of course. We'd pop secret messages and bottles, send them downstream, and then. and picked them up again in Clare Lake.

It was great fun. Here, let me show you with this tree branch. Detective Fabian tested the Girl Guide's childhood game with a bag Elena Peters had duplicated for the investigation. He tossed it in the water, and a few hours later, he fished it out from Clare Lake. He conducted this experiment at Goldwell Ciderworks and noticed something else,

a stack of red bricks behind the building. He questioned the foremen and learned they'd been delivered, the morning of October 31st. The same day as Dagmar's murder. The delivery driver who dropped off the bricks was employed by M. Dickerson Limited in Cambridge. His name was Sidney Sinclair.

Sinclair had already been questioned by police. He said he'd driven the A-20 on the morning of October 31st heading for the cider works. He stopped a cyclist on the road at 6.30 a.m. to ask for directions. He arrived at the cider works at 6.50 a.m., waited in his lorry until it opened at 8, and was back on the road by 9. The officer who questioned him had no reason to suspect foul play. Sidney Sinclair was a well-liked man. He had a respectable job, a wife and daughter, and no existing criminal record. Nevertheless, the situation didn't sit well with Detective Fabian.

Sidney Sinclair didn't fit the profile, but he did fit the location. He claimed he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary, but other lorry drivers had spotted a lone woman's shoe along the embankment of the A-20. Sydney was adamant that he hadn't seen any hitchhikers that morning, but Dagmar was definitely out on the road. Something didn't add up, and the plot kept getting thicker. On November 16th, officers went to the group, garage of Maurice Dickerson, the owner of M. Dickerson Limited. There, they spoke with a secretary

named Alan Bell, and he had an interesting story to tell. Hello, Detective. My name's Alan. I, uh, well, something's come up. What's that? Well, I know your men questioned one of our delivery drivers. Sidney Sinclair? I just wanted to let you know he handed in his resignation four days ago. Sinclair's worked for us since 42 makes a good salary, but he just quit. Interesting. Did he say why? Anxiety neurosis. That can happen. A lot of our boys haven't been right since the war. It might be that, but he's been through quite a few incidents while working here, and he's never so much as called in sick, let alone quit from anxiety. What kind of incidents? Accidents, I suppose. He rolled his

Laurie three years ago. After that, he hit a cyclist and drove clean through a garden wall. And just three months ago, it was awful. He accidentally crushed a man while out doing a delivery. A terrible thing. But as you said, an accident. Yes. Yes, of course. But even after all those troubling incidents, Mr. Sinclair was always fine afterwards. And now he just comes in out of nowhere with a doctor's note and a diagnosis? Could you give me that doctor's name? We'll get to the bottom of things. The doctor's name was David Berlin,

and he confirmed Sidney Sinclair's anxiety neurosis. He said Sinclair had visited him in an upset state, claiming he'd had an accident at work that caused insomnia and had him going, quote, all to pieces. For Detective Fabian, this was enough. Sinclair had been in the exact same location as a murdered woman,

as well as her discarded string bag. He suddenly experienced a mysterious accident at work, leading to a nervous breakdown. Everything added up. The detective knew this was his man. Now he just had to bring the killer in. Thanks again for tuning into solved murders. We'll be back next Wednesday with part two of Dagmar Petchivalski.

We'll learn more about Sidney Sinclair and uncover the dark secrets. had hidden in his past. For more information on the murder of Dagmar Petchivalsky, amongst the many sources we used, we found Diana Suhami's book, Murder at Rutum Hill, extremely helpful to our research.

You can find all episodes of solved murders and all other Spotify originals from Parcast for free on Spotify. We'll see you next time. If we live, until next time. Solve murders, true crime, Mysteries is a Spotify original from Parcast. It is executive produced by Max Cutler. Sound design by Michael Langsner, with production assistance by Ron Shapiro, Trent Williamson,

Carly Madden, and Freddie Beckley. This episode of Solved Murders was written by Kayla Westergard-Dobson, with writing assistance by Karas Allen and Giles Hofsef, fact-checking by Claire Cronin, and research by Mickey Taylor. The amazing cast of voice actors includes Tom Bauer, Tiana Camacho, Brian Green, Kai Jordan, and Harris Markson. Solve Murder stars Wendy McKenzie and Carter Roy. You aren't supposed to know about them unless they want you to. Powerful groups with their own very specific agendas. And if you find yourself on the inside, good luck getting out.

Hi, I'm Hannah Maguire. And I'm Saruti Bala. Join us every Tuesday for our new Spotify original from Parcast, Sinister Societies. Whether it's doomsday predictions, deadly greed or world domination, each week we're exposing the beliefs and actions of the most ominous organisations the world may or may not have known. Follow Sinister societies free and only on Spotify.