Published: 22 December, 2015
by WILLIAM McLENNAN 

WHEN Alan Holmes left work for Christmas, his colleagues at Kentish Town Police Station believed they’d soon see him back in the yard in Regis Road, with his wellies on and hosepipe in hand, readying their patrol cars for duty. 

Instead, more than a week later, they found the garage worker clinging to life and tied to his bed in Parkway, Camden Town. 

He had been tortured and left for dead by thieves who made off with little more than £1,000. He died in hospital from his injuries the next day.

Despite several arrests and a £25,000 reward, nobody has ever been charged with the killing. And so January 5, 1996, is a date that sticks in the mind of many who have served in Camden. 

But staggeringly this Christmas, despite it being the 20th anniversary of Mr Holmes’s murder, detectives in charge of the case refused to be interviewed and said they have no plans to launch a fresh witness appeal. 

The refusal at Scotland Yard to run an appeal for help is even stranger given its history of meeting milestones in unsolved murder cases with publicity. Today, the New Journal steps in to ensure the case is not forgotten, opening up the prospect for memories – and consciences – to be jogged.

For the first time, Mr Holmes’s former colleagues share the anguish of knowing the killers escaped justice in the hope it may trigger somebody to come forward and help finally close one of the darkest chapters in Camden’s history.

 
The yard where Mr Holmes would work on police vehicles during the 1990s

Pete Ryan, who retired in 2013 after more than 30 years in the service and worked alongside Mr Holmes in the 1980s, told the New Journal: “I wouldn’t want the people of Camden to think we were only interested in this one because he worked for the police. It isn’t that. It’s really rare that someone is tortured and Alan was tortured to death, right in the middle of Camden Town while people were celebrating Christmas. That’s horrific.”

Mr Holmes was last seen by friends who dropped him off at home at about midnight on Christmas Day. Detectives believe thieves broke into his second-floor flat on Boxing Day and beat him until he handed over two bank cards, along with their PIN numbers, before leaving him bound to his bed. 

The 53-year-old was found lying face down nine days later, on January 4. He died at University College Hospital the next day of a blood clot, caused by his restraints, and dehydration. Before his death, he was able to tell detectives that he had been attacked by two men in their twenties who returned to his flat several times. 

Describing Mr Holmes, one officer who served at Kentish Town in the 1990s, said: “I remember his stutter and how sensitive and gentle he was – funny to have ended up working in such a busy and macho environment.”

Officers working the beat at the time said that the men responsible, who may still be at large in Camden, had followed Mr Holmes in the belief that his gentle nature made him an easy target. 

The passage of time, which has reduced the likelihood that a forensic hit will provide the vital piece of evidence, has done little to ease the torment of those who knew Mr Holmes. 

Mr Ryan said: “All those people on duty in 1996, that’s a tough call. It’s like turning up to see a family member being tortured.”

Another colleague added: “No one deserves what happened to Alan. It breaks my heart. I have not forgotten, I don’t think any of us that worked there at that time ever will.”

Five men were arrested between January and March 1996 but all were later released without charge.

Mr Ryan believes that publicising details of Mr Holmes’s death may persuade someone to come forward. He added: “It might just prick the conscience of someone who knows who did it.”

In the meantime, colleagues have called for a commemorative brass plaque, currently on the door of a top-floor room in Holmes Road, to be moved to a more prominent spot at the front desk. 

Two decades after Mr Holmes’s murder, as the police service recovers from unprecedented budget cuts, officers who gave much of their lives to the Met are left clinging to the hope that the brutal killing of one of their own will not be cast aside.