Walter Walters, the headmaster of Church School, said that “the teachers who had him [Jones] in their charge and myself never found anything to complain of in regards to him. We all found him exemplary, respectful and of good moral character.”
The inquest opened on March 7. Harold gave evidence, but he seemed agitated and kept giving conflicting accounts. The coroner became annoyed with him and told him to tell the truth. Harold said, “I know it looks black against me, but I never done it.” Despite the lack of physical evidence, police were satisfied they had the killer, and Harold was detained until April 5, when he went before the magistrates. He was formally charged with murder and denied bail, being remanded in Usk Prison until the trial.
On June 21, 1921, the trial began at Monmouthshire Assizes. Harold Jones pleaded not guilty. He was calm and collected on the stand, even through interrogation—a stark contrast to his demeanor during the inquest. Henry Mortimer stated that he’d heard Harold and Francis working in the shop before both of them left to deliver a sack of potatoes to a customer at 10 a.m., then later returned to work for the rest of their shift. Harold’s father, Phillip, said that his son had been at home from the time he finished work until the next morning. This was a different story from what Harold’s friends Levi Meyrick and Francis Mortimer had said. Harold’s mother supported Phillip’s alibi for Harold and said that their son had always displayed good behavior toward young girls. He even had a younger sister, Flossie. Certainly nothing in his upbringing or personality even hinted that he was capable of killing a child.
After five hours, the jury found Harold not guilty.
Harold had a tearful reunion with his parents, after which they went to a restaurant for a celebratory meal. Harold apparently stood on the table and addressed the crowd: “I thank you all. I do not hold a grudge against the people of Abertillery for the ordeal I have been put through.” This seems a rather unusual response to being acquitted of murder. He returned to Abertillery in a charabanc—an open horse-drawn carriage—adorned with bunting and flags, to the cheers of the local townspeople. He was given a hero’s welcome. The people of Abertillery could not believe that a nice boy from their small town would callously murder a little girl. It had to have been an outsider passing through, even though there had been no sightings of a stranger, and the police weren’t looking for anyone else. Harold was presented with a gold pocket watch to celebrate his acquittal. His neighbor, George Little, said to Harold, “Well done, lad. We knew you didn’t do it.” George would later come to regret this when his own daughter, Florence, was murdered seventeen days later.
On July 8, Harold saw his little sister, Flossie, playing hopscotch with one of their neighbors, eleven-year-old Florence Little. He gave his sister money to buy a bottle of soda pop from the shop and lured Florence into his house, claiming he wanted her to run an errand for him. Instead, he strangled her, dragged her into the kitchen, beat her on the head with a wooden plank, then grabbed her by the hair and held her head over the sink, slitting her throat with his father’s pocketknife. He wrapped her head and neck in a gray army shirt before hiding her partially clothed body in the attic. He cleaned up the blood from the sink, walls, floor, and attic hatch before washing himself. Harold was obviously a disorganized, opportunistic killer. He didn’t carefully plan the murders but acted spontaneously—and brutally—when the need or opportunity presented itself, such as finding himself alone with a little girl. This was to be his undoing.
At 11:15 p.m., police started knocking on doors, searching for Florence. Hundreds of volunteers, including Harold and his father, Phillip, searched the woodlands and mountains. What better way to deflect suspicion than by joining people in the search for your murder victim? When police asked Harold if he had seen Florence, he told them she had been at his door, then ran off. He’d told her mother the same lie.
At 8 a.m. the next day, Phillip Jones gave the police permission to search his home. He must have suspected his son’s involvement, especially as he had given Harold a false alibi for Freda’s death. While the police searched the Joneses’ family home, Harold sneaked away and met up with one of his friends. The police spied blood on the attic hatch and opened it, discovering Florence’s body lying across the rafters. It was almost completely drained of blood. They continued searching the house and found a blood-stained knife, an egg saucepan beneath the sink that contained blood and water, a blood-stained wooden plank hidden beneath the boiler, and a blood-stained table near the attic hatch. Despite Harold’s best efforts to clean up his crime, he’d done a poor job. Maybe this was due to his inexperience, or he was in a rush, or he was just careless. Hiding Florence’s body in his attic showed his immaturity and haste. Did he plan on moving it later as he had with Freda’s body? Was he hoping his family wouldn’t notice?
After the police found Florence’s body, Phillip went to Mitre Street, to where Harold was talking to others, and said, “Sonny, come here. They have found the body in our attic.” Harold said, “I never done it, Dad.” Phillip replied, “It’s me or you they will blame; come up and face it.” This is an odd thing to say, and it seems Phillip was relatively calm about a murdered child being found in his attic. Phillip Jones took Harold back to the house, where he was arrested by the waiting police.
Upon hearing of his arrest, a crowd of five hundred people gathered outside the police station, demanding Harold’s release. They still could not accept that a well-mannered local boy would do something so heinous, and they accused police officers of setting him up. Superintendent Lewis told the crowd, “I have found the body of the child in the attic of Harold Jones, foully murdered, and I have arrested Harold Jones. I think this is all I can tell you, and it would help us if you disperse and go to your homes.”
A rumor spread that, after Harold was acquitted of Freda’s murder, William Thorne, licensee of the Lamb Inn, had Harold over for supper. William denied this. Days after the acquittal, William’s ten-year-old daughter, Nancy, was standing outside the Inn with her friends Florence Little and Margaret Simons when Harold came over to talk to them. She said that Florence had crossed the street, pointed at Harold, and said, “I know you killed Freda.” Margaret, who knew Freda and Florence well, said that Florence kept taunting Harold that he had gotten away with murdering Freda. Did he kill Florence to silence her? The rest of the town believed he was innocent, yet Florence did not.
The inquest into Florence Little’s death opened on July 11. The cause of death was exsanguination from the wound in her throat. Florence’s mother, Elsie, testified that when she had knocked on the Joneses’ door, Harold took two minutes to open it, claiming he had been bathing. She’d asked him if he’d seen her daughter, and Harold smiled before saying, “Florrie’s been here but went through the back way.” Elsie must have knocked on his door shortly after he’d killed her daughter and washed the blood off his hands, and yet he was calm enough not to arouse her suspicions. The inquest was adjourned until July 23. After thirty minutes, the jury found him guilty of the willful murder of Florence Little. Harold jumped to his feet and protested his innocence. He was again detained in Usk Prison to await trial.
At the trial, Harold pleaded guilty, though the judge then told him, “Don’t plead that for the moment.” Harold’s defense barrister, Mr. St. John Gore Micklethwait intervened and asked the judge to accept the plea. According to the Children’s Act, by accepting the guilty plea, the judge could sentence Harold to be detained at His Majesty’s pleasure. However, if he pleaded not guilty and the trial went on past January 11, Harold would be sixteen and, if found guilty of murder, would hang. Despite always proclaiming his innocence, Harold submitted a guilty plea to save his own life.
Phillip had taken some of Harold’s clothes to the police. In his trouser pockets were seven handkerchiefs that didn’t belong to him. Freda’s handkerchief had been left at the scene of her murder. Harold had used his own handkerchief to lengthen the rope he’d used to haul Florence’s body into the attic. The police apparently had Harold’s diary in their possession, though no mention of this was made at the trial. In the diary were the names of sisters Caroline, Maud, and Minnie Lowman, and Lucy May Malsom, a fourteen-year-old who gave evidence against Harold during the trial for Florence’s murder. It was speculated that this may have been Harold’s “hit list.”