Handsome Brute: The True Story of a Ladykiller

by O'Connor, Sean

  There were a number of bruises to the back of Doreen’s head and her left temple, as well as some abrasions to her right cheekbone, as if she had been battered about the head and punched in the face. She had been gagged and bound. There were nail imprints and bruising around both wrists where they had been tightly tied together. Her fingers had a series of V-shaped cuts that indicated that she had fought desparately to fend off a knife attack by grabbing hold of the blade. These wounds cut right down to the bone.

  Above the soft parts of the larynx where the knife later cut through, there was a swelling that had been caused by pressure from a soft instrument, such as the penis. In all probability, like Yvonne Symonds, Doreen had been a virgin, but Heath had extended her none of the sensitivity that Yvonne had been fortunate enough to receive. There was a bruise on the right shoulder and an area of redness above and below the left collarbone, denoting some pressure, probably from Heath’s knee. Some of her ribs had been broken and splintered, puncturing her left lung. These injuries might have resulted from Doreen being forcefully pinned to the ground and her squirming under Heath’s considerable weight of 171 lb as he raped her, undoing the gag in order to force himself into her mouth, pinning her down with his knee.

  There was a large area of abrasion of the skin between the two shoulder blades. On the left side of the back, below the shoulder blades there were horizontal abrasions and corresponding abrasions at the back of the left arm. These were possibly due to Doreen being dragged across the ground, naked, whilst still alive.

  Having dragged her further into the undergrowth, he then released her hands, cutting the handkerchief at this point with the knife – possibly with the intention of forcing her to do further sexual acts under duress.

  At the back of the neck were two stricture marks. These were horizontal, about an inch apart, as if an attempt had been made to strangle her, possibly with the webbing straps or lengths of freshly cut string that had been found in Heath’s possession. Doreen had suffered all of these injuries before Heath had slashed her throat and killed her. The final moments of her life in a dark and lonely woodland by the beach must have been terrifying.

  After she had been killed, Doreen’s body had been subjected to a series of mutilations of animal savagery. The right nipple had been bitten off. There was a deep cut extending diagonally across the right breast below the nipple, sloping down towards the middle. A second cut above the nipple joined the first cut below. There were similar injuries to the left breast, the left nipple having been savaged and torn until it was hanging off. Most shocking of all was a long deep cut running vertically up the front of the body, starting below the genitals from the inner thigh upwards. The blade had reached deep into the muscle one and a half inches from the surface of the skin. The cut extended up to a line joining the nipples. This long cut was done in four brutal strokes with Heath positioned by Doreen’s left shoulder. There were also injuries to the genitals. The vagina and anus had been perforated and the skin between them had been torn to a depth of three inches from the surface. These injuries had been made by a rough instrument – possibly a branch – with extreme brutality.

  The police puzzled how Heath had managed to persuade a sensible, respectable girl like Doreen to such an isolated spot in order to carry out his intentions. At the Tollard Royal, Doreen had been very clear that she wanted to go straight home, but somehow Heath had succeeded in coaxing her to walk down the zigzag path in front of the hotel and down to the beach. The lights of the pier – and safety – were only a minute away to the east. But Heath persuaded Doreen to walk a mile in the opposite direction from her hotel towards the Bournemouth chines. It is clear from Yvonne Symonds’ statements that Heath was extremely persuasive (she recalled that he ‘over-persuaded’ her to sleep with him) and he may well have resorted to this tried-and-tested strategy, suggesting to Doreen that they get married. This impulsive romantic suggestion in the middle of the summer night may have convinced Doreen to accompany Heath towards Branksome Dene Chine – an area he knew from his walks with Peter Rylatt. The chines nearer to Bournemouth and closer to the Tollard Royal were more developed and less suitable for lovers’ meetings. Having failed to persuade Doreen to go up to his room at the hotel (as he had failed to do with Peggy Waring), Heath’s objective may well have been to seduce Doreen in the chine. Having walked her along the beach, he then suggested that they go into the chine. In doing so he had either lied that it was a shortcut back to Bournemouth or he had already succeeded in persuading her to have sex with him.6 Even today in daylight the chine feels dark and isolated – in the middle of the night it must have seemed extremely forbidding to Doreen, but she had her air force pilot to protect her.

  Most of her clothes were later found undamaged, so either she removed them herself or Heath had done so. As with Pauline Brees at the Strand Palace Hotel, he might have battered Doreen about the head to stun her, then stripped her, pulling her dress inside-out as he did so, ripping her cami-knickers and discarding the sanitary towel. He had then stripped himself naked. He bound her hands tightly, probably with the handkerchief that Spooner had found in the dressing-table drawer of Heath’s hotel room. At the same time he had gagged her in order to prevent her calling for help.7 He then dragged her further into the dense undergrowth of the alcove and further away from any possibility of escape.

  Having killed Doreen and mutilated her body, Heath then set about trying to hide it. Nearby a match was found; it seems Heath may have smoked after he killed her, reflecting on what he had done. Not satisfied with his first concealment of the body, Heath then moved it seventeen feet to the east of the alcove. Before doing this he took the diamond ring from her finger and the fob watch from her coat. He then covered her body with her clothes and concealed it with branches of pine and rhododendron.

  After the murder, Heath was covered in blood. Still naked, he bathed himself in the sea to wash the blood away, perhaps drying himself with his shirt and underwear, which he would later try to burn in the grate of his room at the hotel. At this point he may have dropped the murder weapon in the sea, as it was never recovered. He then picked up Doreen’s handbag and hurried from the chine, leaving behind him the handkerchief that he had gagged her with. Fifty yards towards the beach he opened the bag to search it, discarding the blue powder compact, possibly because he saw that it was cracked and worthless. He proceeded along the promenade as far as Alum Chine. Here he took out Doreen’s pigskin wallet containing her money and clothing coupons, her fountain pen and penknife. Pocketing these, he threw the handbag over the beach huts where it was later discovered by the schoolboy.8

  By the time he had reached the foot of the zigzag path leading up to the Tollard Royal Hotel, he had second thoughts about keeping Doreen’s possessions, so he dropped the penknife. He then climbed up the ladder outside his room and went to bed where he was discovered at 4.30 in the morning sleeping deeply as if he had nothing to disturb his dreams.

  What had triggered Heath’s murderous frenzy in Branksome Dene Chine that night? Not every sexual relationship he had with women ended in sadistic violence. He had slept with Yvonne Symonds after the death of Margery Gardner and she claimed he only ever treated her gently. He had been drinking on the night he killed Doreen – brandy and a magnum of champagne – but nowhere near as much as he had on the night he killed Margery Gardner. Heath’s own version of events, like his version of the events of 20 June, offer no clue to the inspiration for the attack.

  I have no recollection of going anywhere near Branksome Chine. The next thing I recall is lighting a cigarette. As I was flicking the match away I saw blood on my hands. I knew I had left the hotel with Doreen Marshall. But I did not know where she was or what had happened. Something dreadful, I was sure. I was at the lower end of the promenade, on the soft sand. I stood still and tried to think what to do. I had her watch and some other things in my possession. How late it was I did not know. But everything was quiet. I must have walked towards the hotel. Looking up at a
window with a light in it I saw a woman standing there in her nightdress. I had washed my hands with seawater but I did not feel like talking to anyone, even the companionable porter. So I climbed a ladder to get into my room by the window. Again I felt the cold and calculating feeling I had felt while shaving at Notting Hill Gate.9

  The police in London were now considering if the death of Margery Gardner could be explained as a drunken sexual tryst gone wrong. If this was not the case, then her death seemed completely without motive. But how to explain this second, even more brutal murder, committed when Heath knew he was wanted all over the country?

  If you had read such things in fiction you would throw the book aside, would you not, and said, ‘That is impossible. It does not happen. If a man has once committed a crime like this he does not go straight off and commit another crime of a similar and even more awful character at a time when he knows that the police are hunting for him, when he has seen his name in the paper day after day.’10

  Why had Heath killed Doreen when he had spent all afternoon and all evening with her in front of dozens of witnesses?

  Almost immediately her death was reported, the Daily Mirror suggested that Heath did have a very clear motive in killing Doreen.11 Had he deliberately sought out a victim as a potential defence for the murder of Margery Gardner? The extraordinary brutality of the second murder could establish him as mentally unbalanced and enable him to make a plea of ‘guilty but insane’ at his trial. Had he consciously set out to butcher Doreen Marshall – conjuring images of Jack the Ripper – in order to save himself from the gallows?

  Throughout his life, even from his early childhood, Heath had committed a series of crimes and misdemeanours that he had succeeded in getting away with unpunished. He was given the benefit of the doubt on countless occasions by his parents, the police, magistrates and senior officers, all of whom had been seduced by his infectious charm, his good manners and his handsome face.

  Was the killing of Doreen Marshall the biggest gamble of Heath’s life – an audacious attempt to get away, this time, with murder?

  PART FOUR

  The Twisting of Another Rope

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  3923

  9 JULY – 23 SEPTEMBER 1946

  Brixton Prison

  9th July 1946

  My dear Mother,

  I cannot express how I feel about the sorrow and misery which I must have caused you all. For my own part I don’t care what happens. I have never really cared since I lost Elizabeth and Rob. I got interested in life again a few months ago but that was quickly squashed by the fact that having made a few slips the Air Ministry refused to let me forge ahead again and refused to grant me my ‘B’ licence. I’d worked damned hard for that licence and was disappointed by their decision.

  Newspaper reports are all very inaccurate and quite amusing. The one of my arrest was priceless. I was supposed to be in the Botanical

  Gardens sniffing the roses – like Ferdinand the bull. Actually I walked into the police station to see them quite voluntary on a very different matter and they almost didn’t recognize me.

  They’ve kept all my money and clothes at the police station with the usual rash promise that they’ll be sent on later. I’d be grateful if you could send me some cigarettes and tobacco and matches and some money to buy a few things. I’m in the hospital here which is quite comfortable. Had the offer of legal aid from the court but refused it. I’ve no intention of accepting charity and I’ve no intention of paying for any counsel.

  I’m prepared to give an exclusive story to any one newspaper in return for their briefing counsel on my behalf and paying me a certain amount of money. Such a course of action would enable me to pay all my debts and it is the only manner in which I’ll accept any legal aid so don’t employ a solicitor on my behalf. The newspapers print anything and everything so one of them might just as well have an authentic version. If you can enquire whether the ‘Mail’ is at all interested. I would be pleased should they accept my offer. I shall be prepared to make a statement to Det Insptr Spooner of the Yard and to a representative of the newspaper at the same time. I feel Spooner will be pleased to have the statement as there is an awful lot he doesn’t know. I think I know where the missing link is too so they may like to know something about it. But if the newspapers wish to write me up they may as well pay for the privilege. I want £500 and legal aid. That sum will just about clear all my debts. I’ve no objection to Insp Spooner being informed of this by you. He’ll be at Notting Hill Gate Police Station I expect. Don’t worry too much about me it isn’t really worth it. Concentrate on keeping Mick on the straight and narrow. Please don’t come to see me – I know you’ll hate it.

  All my love as ever,

  Yours truly,

  Nen1

  Heath, now Prisoner Number 3923, sent this letter to his mother the day after Doreen Marshall’s mutilated body was found in Bournemouth. As Heath’s letters were being intercepted by the Home Office, Spooner was subsequently sent to visit him in Brixton Prison, accompanied by Shelley Symes. Heath had made no admission about the murders and Spooner was keen to hear what he had to say.

  When Spooner arrived he met, for the first time, Heath’s newly appointed solicitor, Isaac Near of Raymond, Near & Co., a firm based in Holborn. Near had been recommended to Heath by one of his flying colleagues, most probably Ralph Fisher. He had been practising as a solicitor since 1932 and had bought the firm Raymond’s in 1936. In 1939 he had been called up to the Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve and thereafter found it a strain keeping the practice afloat, particularly after 1944 when his offices in Warwick Court had been destroyed by enemy action. Near proved to be a reliable and trustworthy ally throughout the trial and beyond. A rogue very much cut from the same cloth as Heath, in 1951 he would be struck off for ‘conduct unbecoming a solicitor’, having embezzled some of his clients’ money.2

  When Spooner was taken to the interview room to meet him, Heath affected surprise.3 He said he hadn’t asked to see Spooner at all. Spooner emphasized that the only reason he had come to Brixton was because Heath had specifically suggested that he wanted to talk to him. Heath demanded to know where Spooner had got this information from, but Spooner told him he wasn’t at liberty to say – given that Heath’s letters were being vetted and censored, with copies of everything he wrote and received sent to the Home Office and the prison authorities. Heath refused to discuss the matter further and Spooner left Brixton bemused.

  The letter also caused anxiety amongst the prison authorities and the Home Office.4 Heath was not allowed to sell his life story and it had already been explained to him that legal aid was available if he needed it. This Heath refused to accept. In the end his legal fees were met by his family, with the help of the money he eventually secured for selling his story to the press. Almost as soon as he arrived at Brixton he was contacted by Leslie Terry, whom he barely knew, having only met him on the day of Margery Gardner’s death. Terry visited Heath several times and volunteered to find somebody to pay for his defence, but Heath was well aware that Terry would need something in return; his life story to sell to the newspapers.

  I don’t care two hoots whether I’m defended or not, but I am prepared to give any newspaper the full facts in exchange for certain payment . . . if they agree to my terms they can have anything from me that I can give them. If they don’t, well I couldn’t care less . . . I’m not prepared to argue or bargain, I’m much too tired . . . I honestly don’t give a damn what happens to me. I have faced death too often in the past six years to worry about it. Anyway, I’ve nothing left to live for since I lost my wife and child.5

  Heath wanted £400 for his story – and no haggling. The police were aware of Terry’s criminal background (‘a most undesirable person’)6 and observed his negotiations with Heath carefully. Heath said he particularly wanted the money to pay back his outstanding debts to his father.

  On 16 July, on narrowly lined war standard paper he wrote two pages,
outlining his life story, the blackouts he had suffered in South Africa and the breakdown of his marriage.7 The document was clearly intended for publication. But when Near visited Heath in prison to collect the document, it was confiscated by the warder. Near then challenged the Home Office to return the document as he argued that it was essential for Heath’s defence. Theobald Mathew, the Director of Public Prosecutions, advised the governor at Brixton that they couldn’t very well withhold the document, but that Heath and his legal team must be warned that it was not to be published.8 In the end, a deal was brokered by Leslie Terry for Heath’s story to appear in the Sunday Pictorial, as Heath’s favoured option, the Daily Mail, weren’t interested.9 Though he never made a full statement, he managed to tell much of his story in a series of letters to Terry and his other friends. These letters formed the basis for the story that appeared in the Sunday Pictorial over three weekends after the trial was over. The document Heath wrote in prison was to surface again at a contentious point during the trial itself.

  As a prisoner on remand, Heath was presumed innocent until proven guilty, so was allowed certain privileges. As well as his legal team, he was allowed visits from his family and friends and met them in a room 12 feet square, but always supervised by warders. Generally he got on very well with the staff at the prison and called the governor ‘the boss’, just as if he were back in an RAF mess. He was lodged in the prison hospital on a ward he shared with ten other prisoners. His day began at 7.30 with breakfast served in a mess room next to the ward. He was then shaved by the prison barber, inmates not being allowed to shave themselves with cutthroat razors. Afterwards he took an hour of exercise in the flower-bordered hospital grounds. He could send and receive censored letters10 and corresponded with dozens of his friends and family as well as with his solicitor.11 The letters are generally upbeat, full of RAF slang, banter and self-deprecating humour, not at all the tone of a man whose life was in jeopardy. He received one letter from Doreen Marshall’s parents in Pinner, but didn’t respond to it.12 He was also able to keep in touch with life in the outside world with an allowance of two newspapers a day, which he hungrily scanned for articles about himself. He was also an avid reader of novels and magazines – society glossies and flying journals that were sent in by friends like Ralph Fisher and Leslie Terry.13 He particularly requested copies of Esquire, Life, Tatler and the Illustrated London News. Though the prison library was good, he thought many of the books were too serious or American, ‘which grates a bit’. He preferred one-shilling paperback novels: ‘light stuff ’, adventure stories, mysteries and thrillers. Any books he was sent from friends were vetted by the prison chaplain. All but one of the books he requested – with titles like Bring the Bride a Shroud and Call the Lady Indiscreet – were banned. Mostly he chain-smoked, smoking 200 cigarettes (Players, Churchman or Players No. 3) and half a pound of tobacco a week. Time went by very slowly for him at Brixton and in many of his letters his primary complaint was boredom: he was ‘browned off with inactivity . . . It’s all this waiting that is so depressing. And wearing prison clothes doesn’t do one’s morale much good.’14