Doctor of death
On 7 October 1891, a man clad in a mackintosh and top hat took lodgings at a London house. His name was Dr Thomas Neill Cream and his new home was a stone’s throw from St Thomas’ hospital, where he’d once been a medical student.
Born in Scotland in 1850, he’d been brought up in Canada, the son of a wealthy businessman.
Victorian London was a maze of grimy slums, thick with factory smog and, to its impoverished citizens, Cream was a prestigious doctor, educated, well-dressed and well-travelled.
One rainy night on
