“I wasn’t driving my own car when I went to see Kathryn. I had borrowed Veronica’s, because she brought it with her when she came to meet me on the Thursday evening. I told her that I needed to go home to fetch my car, because I had to drive to see a client the following day, and she lent me hers. I spent the night at her flat – I had spare clothes there. It did strike me as odd that Kathryn did not ask me why I wasn’t driving my own car. I think that she must have known for sure that I was going to break off with her when she saw the car. She probably put the knife into her bag while I was walking up the path. I returned Veronica’s car to her on the Saturday and told her that I had been too busy to use it, after all. Of course she was never a suspect, so the police did not impound her vehicle. What I told DC Carstairs about Veronica standing by me when I lied about still being engaged to Kathryn was true, although it nearly ruined our relationship again. But Veronica had no inkling that I had actually witnessed Kathryn’s death.”
“Very ingenious,” said Tim. “Thank you for telling us your story, sir. And now I think you do need to appoint a lawyer, as you suggested. I’m sure that you have plenty of acquaintance to choose from.”
“What do you mean?”
“Charles Heward, I am arresting you for the murder of Kathryn Elaine Sheppard on or about October 15th 1975. You do not have to say anything . . .”
Epilogue
Charles Heward, QC, MP, was charged with the murder of Kathryn Sheppard. He assembled an expert team of lawyers to defend him, including Sir Cecil Petrie, one of the UK’s foremost barristers. Sir Cecil argued that the version of events that Mr. Heward had recounted to Detective Inspector Tim Yates and Detective Constable Andy Carstairs had been scrupulously truthful; that he had demonstrated his willingness to help the police clear up the mystery of Kathryn Sheppard’s death in an almost selflessly honourable way; and that he had finally confessed because he wanted the truth to be known, despite the detrimental effect that going public might have on both his career and his marriage. His only crime had been his foolish concealment of Kathryn Sheppard’s body after she had – probably unintentionally – killed herself with a knife which she had hidden in her bag in order to create a scene. Concealing a body was, of course, a serious offence, and Mr. Heward was fully aware of the gravity of this crime, but it was a much lesser crime than murder. He was willing to face the consequences for the ill-judged course of action he had taken more than thirty years before; but Sir Cecil asked the jury to bear in mind the fact that at the time he had been a young lawyer in the process of building his career who had managed to get himself tangled up in a love triangle. His had been the action of a confused man, rather than an evil one.
The judge directed the jury to return a verdict of not guilty to the charge of murder, because of lack of evidence and Charles Heward’s otherwise impeccable record of good character, and asked them to consider only whether he was guilty of the charge of unlawfully concealing a body. He was found guilty of this latter charge and given a suspended sentence. He did not get off entirely scot free, however: his wife Veronica left him shortly afterwards and subsequently sued him for what turned out to be (for him) a very expensive divorce. He also lost his seat in the next general election.
No evidence was found to suggest that either Dorothy Atkins or Ronald Atkins was murdered. The coroner recorded a verdict of death by natural causes for Dorothy. An open verdict was lodged on Ronald’s death.
Testifying in court, Professor Salkeld said that DNA tests confirmed that Ronald Atkins was indeed Hedley’s father, though when cross-examined, he agreed that recent research carried out in the Netherlands indicated that DNA from close relatives could be so similar as sometimes to give misleading results. When questioned further, he confirmed that this would especially be the case if one or more instances of incestuous births had occurred within a family.
Hedley Atkins was charged with the murder of his sister Bryony. It was stated that his father, Ronald Atkins, and his uncle, Colin Atkins, had probably been involved, but that it was impossible to determine to what extent so long after the event, particularly as both had since died. After reading psychiatric reports and listening to expert witnesses, the trial judge decided that Hedley was unfit to plead and he was committed to a secure mental unit, just as his mother had been more than thirty years before.
The case of the murder of Doris Atkins was not reopened, and Dorothy Atkins was not posthumously exonerated of her conviction for murder.
Peter Prance’s account of how the deaths of Eliza Drake, Doris Atkins and Bryony Atkins had occurred was ruled inadmissible in court, partly because it was largely based on hearsay and therefore conjectural, partly because Prance was deemed an unreliable witness. For the latter reason he was also unable to testify on Hedley Atkins’ behalf. Prance retracted the confession made during his night at Spalding police station on the grounds that it had been given under duress. He was acquitted of the charge of conspiracy to cause actual bodily harm, on the grounds that Hedley Atkins was not fit to testify against him. He moved back to London, where he appeared in court on yet another charge of fraud less than twelve months later. He was released on bail, and disappeared before his trial could take place. There was some concern that he had been abducted rather than that he had absconded of his own free will, but police resources were stretched at the time and neither he nor the reason for his disappearance were to be discovered.
The coroner’s report on the death of Eliza Drake was examined, and yielded no evidence that her death had been anything but an unfortunate accident.
Henry Bevelton retired, and led a pious life in old age, becoming one of the churchwardens of Spalding Parish Church.
The house in Westlode Street became the property of Hedley Atkins, and consequently was destined to stand empty again for very many more years.
One day, after Hedley had been sent to Broadmoor, and Tim and Juliet were working on another case together, she turned from writing some information on the glass screens on which the story of their latest murder investigation was unfolding, and said to him:
“I hope that this one turns out more satisfactorily than the Kathryn Sheppard case. I always felt unhappy about that. Two friends who died at almost the same time, their deaths apparently unrelated, one of them murdered, the other dead as the result of an accident. It didn’t ring true, somehow.”
“No,” Tim agreed. “It didn’t. But I don’t think that the deaths were related; and it’s my guess that they were indeed a murder and an accident. But I’d bet my life, or almost, that it was the other way around. And now Hedley Atkins is languishing in a mental home, just as his mother did; and in all probability, she was always as innocent as I believe that he now is. Innocent in the eyes of the law, anyway. Some families have their own morality. Both Tirzah and Hedley paid dearly for keeping what they knew in the family.”
In the Family Page 34
