Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Ex-Convict’s Car of Death Sold Years After Double Murder of Leah Spalding and Erica Hall #71

Episode Date: August 17, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #truecrime #coldcase #murdermystery #doublemurder #hauntedcar  The chilling tale of Leah Spalding and Erica Hall’s double murder shocked the community, but the story didn’t end with the crime. Years later, the car tied to the horrific act is sold, awakening memories and rumors of a cursed vehicle. This narrative explores the sinister legacy left behind by violence and the shadows that linger long after justice seems served.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, truecrime, murdercase, coldcase, hauntedobjects, crimehistory, darksecrets, ghoststories, curseditems, urbanlegends, mystery, criminalhistory, eerie, tragicstory, unsolved

I don't know about you, but every time I see some busted old car being sold at a police auction, I wonder what secrets are buried in its upholstery. Like, how many stories could that steering will tell if it could talk? But this time, this time it wasn't just any car. This time it was the car. A 2014 black range rover with a history so dark it made even the auctioneer hesitate as he tapped his gavel. That range rover had been sitting in an impound lot for years, collecting dust, bird crap, and a reputation that made most people steer clear.

It wasn't just a car anymore, it was a crime scene on wheels. And nearly nine years after the murders of two women, Leah Spalding and Erica Hall, the police finally decided to unload it. Someone actually bought it. For less than 3,300 pounds, no less. But let's rewind. Because to understand why this luxury SUV was auctioned off for peanuts, you gotta go back to the bloody night in 2016 that cemented it in infamy.

The discovery, it was a cold spring evening in April 2016 when Kent Police were called to a stretch of road near Ramsgate. You know the kind of road I'm talking about, dimly lit, lined with trees, and eerily quiet after dark. A jogger passing by had spotted something that didn't look quite right, a vehicle parked haphazardly on the shoulder, its headlights off but hazard lights faintly blinking like the car itself was trying to call for help. Inside that range rover were two bodies. 18-year-old Leah Spalding was slumped over in the front passenger seat. A knife wound had torn across her cheek like some grotesque smile carved into her face.

Two gunshot wounds had ripped through her abdomen, leaving the leather seat soaked in blood. Behind her, in the back seat, lay Erica Hall. She was 28, older, maybe wiser, but no leather. a victim. Her neck bore deep bruises where someone had squeezed the life out of her. Police later described the scene as, one of the most violent and frenzied struggles they'd ever encountered. This wasn't just a murder. It was overkill. The prime suspect, it didn't take detectives long to figure out whose car it was. The Range Rover was registered to a 44-year-old man named Neil Berry. Barry wasn't exactly a stranger to law enforcement.

In fact, his rap sheet was long enough to make even career criminals flinch. He'd been released from prison only a year prior after serving nine years of a 12-year stretch for possession and distribution of Class A drugs. Here's where it gets worse. Barry wasn't just the owner of the car. His DNA was everywhere, on the door handles, the steering wheel, the knife left behind in the footwell, and even on both women. They didn't find the gun, though. That little detail would haunt investigators for years.

By the time they got warrants and started searching for Barry, he'd vanished. Totally off the grid. Police theorized he'd hopped the channel and made a beeline for France. Others speculated he was using old underworld connections to stay hidden, moving from country to country like a ghost. For nearly two years, Neil Berry was one of the UK's most wanted fugitives. The arrest, Prague International Airport. Customs officials were doing their usual rounds when a man triggered a facial recognition scan. His passport said one thing, but the system said another.

As the officers approached, the man tried to blend in, but his eyes betrayed him, nervous, darting, like a cornered animal. It was Barry. Turns out he'd been living under an alias in Eastern Europe, but you can't outrun technology forever. The Czech authorities detained him, and within weeks, Barry's, was back on British soil, staring down the possibility of life in prison. In 2019, after months of legal wrangling, Neil Berry stood in court and entered his pleas. For Leah Spalding. Guilty of rape and murder. For Erica Hall. Guilty of aggravated sexual assault and manslaughter.

When the sentences came down, the judge didn't mince words. Barry was a predator, a remorseless killer. He was handed 56 years behind bars, a sentence so long it might as well have been life. The Range Rover, the car itself became a bit of an urban legend. Some said it should have been crushed, destroyed like the evidence of Barry's crimes. Others argued it was just a hunk of metal and rubber, no different than any other seized vehicle sitting in police storage. In 2020, police considered sending the Range Rover to a salvage yard along with a lineup of other confiscated cars. But someone, maybe out of pragmatism, maybe out of sheer audacity, decided it

could fetch some money at auction. Five years later, in March 2025, the sale finally happened. Bidders were cautious. After all, who wants to drive a car where two people were brutally murdered? The auctioneer's voice cracked as he called out the opening bid. 1,000 pounds. Silence. A hand went up. One thousand five hundred pounds. Another pause. Two thousand pounds. The numbers crawled forward like a snail on a salt trail until finally, someone took it home for three thousand three hundred pounds, barely a fifth of what the car was worth on the secondhand market. The buyer? A collector of notorious vehicles. Yeah. Those exist. Barry's words. If you thought Barry was going to

wrought in prison quietly, think again. In 2025, he gave a newspaper interview. He claimed he never meant to hurt Erica Hall. According to him, Leah and Erica were hysterical, and out of control, that night. He said Leah had pulled a knife on him, and the gun he used to kill her. He claimed he found it at a landfill a while back and carried it for protection. As for Erica, he insisted her death was an accident. I must have dropped the gun somewhere, he said with a shrug, as if misplacing a murder weapon was the same as losing your keys. The public wasn't buying it. Aftermath. So now the range rover's gone, Barry's locked away, and Leah and Erica's names live on in the shadows of a story that still feels unfinished. People still argue about whether the car should have

been destroyed. Some say it's cursed, tainted by the violence that soaked into its leather seats. Others think it's just a car, and the evil came from Barry, not the machine he drove. But every time I hear a range rover's engine hum past me on the street, I can't help but wonder. What if it's that one? What if the ghosts of Leah and Erica are still riding in the back seat, screaming silently as the wheels turn? And what kind of person would pay 3,300 pounds to own a piece of that nightmare? Epilogue. They say every car tells a story.

Some stories are about road trips and family holidays. Others are about love, freedom, and youth. And then there are stories like this one, where the open road turned into a killing field, and a luxury SUV became a coffin on wheels. The Range Rover's new owner will probably wash it, wax it, and tell his friends about the infamous car he scored at auction. But no matter how much polish he puts on it, the stains won't come out. Not really. Not the ones that matter the END.