Transcript: 130. The Callous Killing of Mary Gough Whelan | Ireland

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Cian Sweeny was living the dream. The 33-year-old barman had relocated from Dublin to the Mediterranean island of Majorca. Most locals knew him, because if he wasn’t pulling pints or shaking cocktails, he was out on the town, partying and socialising.

He had quite the reputation as a ladies’ man. Tourists, locals, colleagues… Cian had charmed them all. He had a VIP membership at Star Girls Bar – a strip club in Puerto Portals, and was known to all the sex workers as a regular customer.

Then he met Katie – a British native who lived and worked on the island too. She swept him off his feet, and before long, she moved into his apartment. Their apartment was small, but it was all they needed. Katie looked forward to their future together and thought the tall, dark and handsome Cian was the perfect guy.

On Saturday evening of July 10th, 2004, Cian kissed her goodbye and got onto his Peugeot moped, heading off to start his shift at Karma Bar, overlooking Puerto Portals marina. But everything was about to come crumbling down. He was working behind the bar and had just struck up a conversation with an Irish tourist when a man approached him. It was an Interpol detective who asked him to accompany him to the nearest police station. Cian was confused and wanted to know what was going on. With no explanation, the detective, supported by police took Cian in custody. Cian protested and told his boss he would be back soon, and that it was all a terrible misunderstanding.

But it wasn’t. Cian, or Martin Bernard Sweeny, was not who he said he was. He came from Dublin, yes. But Cian was not the jovial man-about-town whom everyone in Majorca got to know and love. On the contrary – he was a cold-blooded killer who had fled Ireland three years before. His name was Colin Whelan.

>>Intro Music

Colin Whelan was 22 when he met 19-year-old Mary Gough at the Huntsman Inn. The pub was the local watering hole in Gormanstown – where Mary had been working as a barmaid for two years. It was only two miles away from the Gough family home, where Mary lived with her mom and brothers. Colin had a broken leg when he met Mary – an injury he sustained at a REM concert at Slane Castle. She felt sorry for him, and the two became good friends over the summer of 1993.

Mary was a laid-back, quiet person, and those who knew her enjoyed her quick wit. The only girl in a family with five brothers, Mary was a straight shooter who did not waste time trying to keep up with appearances. If she was happy, she was happy, if she was cross, she was cross, simple as that.

Mary’s dad, James Gough, passed away in 1989 and it was a devastating blow to her mom, Marie. Mary and Marie always had a good relationship, and after James passed away, they became inseparable. Mary was a pillar of strength for her mother and a ray of sunshine to her brothers. Her brothers always said that Mary was the sister their mom never had.

Colin Whelan was the youngest of five children and was born on the 14th of July 1971. He grew up in Gormanstown, not far from Mary’s family home. With his broken leg, Colin spent a lot of time at the Huntsman Inn and got to know the barmaid rather well. It took him about six months to ask her out, and they started seeing each other casually. Colin was handsome and ambitious. He had a degree, and a stable job in IT and Mary loved spending time with him. Her family could see how happy she was and took Colin in as one of their own.

In 1995, they broke up for a while but got back together again. The break-up came out of the blue for Mary, and she could not understand how Colin could suddenly be so cold-hearted. She was inconsolable, and her mom decided to reach out to Colin, to ask him what went wrong. If he could only give Mary a reason, perhaps she could get closure – and move on. Colin was not overly concerned that he had broken Mary’s heart and told her mom that if Mary was saddened by the break-up, it wasn’t his fault that she felt like that. This was the first time Marie saw a heartless side of the young man she had become to love like a son.

Mary dusted herself off and focused on her future. She worked as a secretary in the production house that created the film, Rob Roy. It was a great fit: Mary was organised and always paid attention to detail. When her contract ran out, the production company offered Mary a position in Scotland. But she turned it down. Although she didn’t admit it to her family and friends, everyone suspected that she was still burning a torch for Colin Whelan, hoping they would be able to rekindle their relationship.

And she wasn’t wrong. Colin resurfaced, and Mary saw him a couple of times. After six months apart, they decided to give their relationship another go. This time, the relationship seemed more serious, and everyone knew it was a matter of time before Colin popped the big question.

In August 1997, Colin bought his grandfather’s house, 49 Clonard Street, Balbriggan on the outskirts of Dublin. They moved in together, and things were lining up for their life together. Colin worked at a bank, Irish Permanent on St Stephen’s Green in Dublin (IT Programmer). Mary worked at a solicitor’s office in Sword. Just when it looked like life couldn’t get any better for the young couple, tragedy struck.

One night, Colin – who had had a couple of drinks at Huntsman Inn – was driving home when he collided with this neighbours’ car. In her own vehicle following behind, Mary saw Colin’s vehicle smashing into the Murphy’s car, killing 62-year-old Elizabeth in the passenger seat. Colin was charged with dangerous driving, causing death, but he was found not guilty due to a lack of evidence. He received a fine, and his license was suspended to six months, but that was all.

In October 1998 they got engaged in Fuerteventura and Mary was over the moon. Although she was ready to tie the knot as soon as possible, they decided to wait for two years. They got married on the 9th of September 2000, a day that Mary’s family and friends would never forget. Mary was reluctant and tearful on the day. After the ceremony, standing beside her new husband, she burst out in tears and ran back into the church. Her mom and bridesmaids followed, but Marie recalled Colin didn’t seem concerned about her at all. Weddings can be emotional, and everyone assumed Mary was overcome because her father was not there to walk her down the aisle. But there was something else, brewing behind appearances.

The couple went to Singapore and Thailand on their honeymoon, and when they returned, they moved back into their Balbriggan home, freshly renovated for the new chapter in their lives. It was then that Mary’s mom noticed a difference in her. Mary was distant and did not seem as independent as she was before. Previously, Marie stayed over at Mary and Colin’s, but once they were married, they never invited her again. Mary kept promising they’d meet for lunch, but something always came up. If they did manage to get together, Colin was always present.

What was also concerning was that Mary’s appearance became increasingly shabby. She didn’t seem to go through any trouble with her appearance. Before she was married, she loved going shopping with her mom. But when she came back from her honeymoon, she never wanted to go anymore. Marie sensed tension between the newly-weds and was worried because she could see her daughter was unhappy. She hoped it was only temporary and had faith that Mary and Colin would work things out.

At the beginning of 2001, they went to Drogheda to meet with a homeopath, seeing as Mary wanted to live a healthier lifestyle. She was excited about an upcoming detox programme.  

27-year-old Mary did not live to see her 28th birthday. Shortly after midnight on the 1st of March, Colin called emergency services in a panic:

“Hi, I need an ambulance, my wife is after falling down the stairs.”

He said that she was badly injured. The operator asked if his wife was conscious, and he replied that he didn’t think so. While on the line, the operator talked him through performing CPR on his injured wife. But Mary was unresponsive.

The ambulance arrived at 12:30 and found Mary, wrapped in a duvet at the bottom of the stairs. Colin had placed a towel under her head to prop her up. Her body was cold, and their efforts to revive her were unsuccessful.

Mary was pronounced dead on arrival at Beaumont Hospital in Dublin. Her family had been notified and arrived at the hospital shortly after.

The case landed on the desk of Sergeant Pat Marry. Marry, and his team secured the scene at the Whelan home, as a precaution. At this point, it all seemed like a tragic accident, but some things didn’t quite add up. A nurse, seeing a distraught Colin went over to sympathise with him. She noticed strange scratch marks on his chest and asked what had happened. He seemed to notice it for the first time and tried to downplay it, saying that Mary must have ‘flailed‘. This was inconsistent with his version of events that Mary was unconscious and only took shallow breaths while lying at the bottom of the stairs.

The ambulance workers agreed that Mary had probably died earlier than what Colin said. If she had just fallen down the stairs, and they arrived within 15 minutes, she would not have been cold to the touch, and they may even have been able to save her. The position Mary’s body was in when they arrived was also puzzling. For someone who had fallen down a flight of stairs, her limbs were strangely intact. Her body laid straight like she was sleeping. Her head was at an awkward angle. It is evident to them that the husband never performed CPR. Also, Mary had blood on her face coming from her nose, if Colin had tried to give her mouth-to-mouth, he should have had blood on his hands or face too, but he didn’t. When paramedics tried to save Mary, Colin looked on, nervously. His only question was:

“Is she dead?”

Mary’s mom, Marie, recalled Colin’s strange behaviour when she arrived at Beaumont Hospital. She said:

“I walked up to Colin, and he was sitting with his head in his hands, and I said ‘how’s Mary’, he just said she was dead, just like that. I couldn’t get over it, I’ll never forget the way he answered me. He was just sitting there. I was looking at everyone else, roaring and crying. I didn’t know what to think”.

Mary’s sudden death was flagged with the pathologist who performed an autopsy. Haemorrhaging in the eyes, swollen tongue, and a mark on her neck led pathologist to conclude that the cause of death was asphyxiation. She had been strangled to death. Strangely though, there wasn’t bruising all around the neck, as one would expect in a case of strangulation, only a ligature mark on the left side. There were also no injuries that would have been consistent with falling down the stairs, such as head injuries or broken bones. On her buttocks were carpet burns, consistent with someone being dragged. The pathologist informed Pat Marry that this was no accident, it was a homicide.

Suspicion immediately fell on her grieving husband… An emotionless widower who could not even find it in himself to embrace Mary’s mom when she learnt she had lost her only daughter. In fact, the Gough family found his behaviour in the aftermath of Mary’s death to be very odd. When he talked about funeral arrangements, he referred to Mary as ‘the body’. He expressed no sympathy to any of her family members and even went so far as to say he wish he wasn’t home when she fell. It would’ve been easier if he had come home and discovered her, then the police wouldn’t have so many questions.

The morning after Mary’s death, Colin Whelan went to Balbriggan Garda Station to make a formal statement. Investigators put him at ease and said it was only a formality. In the statement, Whelan stuck to his story about Mary falling down the stairs. He stated that, other than Mary, he was the only person in the house at the time. This part of the statement would come back to haunt him.

Investigators informed Mary’s mother on the Friday morning that evidence proved Mary did not die from falling down the stairs, but that she was strangled. It didn’t come as a tremendous shock, as Marie had suspected Colin had something to do with her daughter’s death. However, gardai asked Marie not to inform the Whelan family about the homicide investigation. Marie agreed but called her own family together to break the tragic news to them.

A week after Mary’s murder, her family buried her. The service took place in the same church where she exchanged vows with her suspected killer, six months before. Whelan attended the funeral, with the support of his family. At this point, his family had not been told that Mary was murdered. They were also in shock, having lost their daughter and sister-in-law. At the funeral, Colin caused a scene, feigning an emotional outburst which upset the mourners at the funeral. Mary’s family managed to gracefully ignore the man who had become a stranger to them overnight. To them, it was clear that his outpour was an act, an attempt to gain sympathy.

Police asked him to describe events of the evening before the incident. Colin Whelan told investigators that he and Mary were watching TV when Mary said she was going upstairs to take a shower and moments later, just about midnight, he heard ‘thump, thump, thump’. When he ran to see what was going on, he found her at the bottom of the stairs, unconscious. He saw all the blood and went upstairs to fetch a towel.

Investigators broke the news to the Gough family: Mary’s death was no accident, she was murdered. They were dumbfounded. Colin could be cold and indifferent, but no one believed he would ever harm Mary.

A forensic search of the home on Clonard Street took place. There were bloodstains in multiple locations, starting in the upstairs bedroom, then suggesting movement to the landing. There must have been an assault. On the wallpaper in the main bedroom, was blood mist – a fine blood splatter pattern that typically occurs when someone is strangled. The vessels in the nose burst, causing the victim to spray blood as they exhale.

The home phone that Colin used to call emergency services was clean. If Colin was going to and fro from Mary to the telephone, performing CPR, traces of Mary’s blood or mucus would have been present. Forensic testing showed that there was nothing. It painted a sinister picture of Colin acting while he was talking to the operator – he did absolutely nothing to help his wife. Most likely because he knew she was no longer alive.

The forensic team also checked the log of the house alarm. No windows or doors opened after the couple arrived back home at 9:45pm. There was no sign of a break-in, and it was clear that no third party could have entered the house unbeknownst to Colin and Mary.

Searching the Whelan home, the gardai discovered an interesting document. Three months before their wedding, in June 2000, Whelan doubled the life insurance on himself and his fiancé. He changed this shortly after the first policy was approved. The terms stipulate that if Mary were to die within the first ten years of their marriage, Colin stood to inherit 400,000 Irish Pounds. If something happened to Colin, Mary would receive a payout of the same amount. What was strange, was that the policy had an expiry date: it would only pay out if one of them died within ten years.

Gardai looked at Whelan’s work computer and were surprised to find that his hard drive had been wiped. Computer forensic science was still in its infancy. Investigators could access the bank’s main hard drive (double proxy servers) and found backups giving them all of the information they needed.

With the life insurance policy, he searched the internet, using terms like ‘asphyxiation’, ’causes death within seconds’, ‘locking windpipe’, ‘death by strangulation’ and ‘lack of oxygen effects’. These searches began in the weeks leading up to their wedding. So, while Mary was going for dress fittings and deciding which flowers to choose – her fiancé was making plans of his own. He made no less than 22 searches for ways to kill his wife.

Four months into his marriage, he was very active in online chat rooms, portraying himself as a widowed man, going by the screen name: Celtic Tackler. This is how he described himself:

“Hi, my name is Colin. I’m a true red-blooded Irish male, 29 years young. Into music scene, good food, and wine, etc. like to enjoy the beauty of nature as often as possible. Hope to chat to either sex, of any age, race, religion or creed. So go on drop me a line, you may enjoy the Celtic experience.”

It may sound innocent enough, but before long, he met a woman who lived in Wales, Helen Sheppard. He told the divorced mother-of-two that his wife had died in a motor vehicle accident seven years before. A series of sweet and flirtatious emails and messages followed, with the woman not knowing that he was a married man. He sent a photo of himself – well, a picture of his face photoshopped onto the body of a model. They planned to meet up in March. Whelan told his online girlfriend he was excited about a large inheritance coming his way.

For his first Valentine’s Day as a married man, Colin went through a lot of effort. But not for his wife, Mary. No, he sent flowers and a card to his online girlfriend in Wales. He wrote a 60-line poem, pouring out his romantic feelings towards her. And it worked, when she read his poem, Helen was convinced that Colin was the guy for her, and she told him that she was eager to meet him.

Meanwhile, Colin-the-husband’s plan was growing more sinister by the day. He researched the murder method used by an American serial killer, Henry Louis Wallace, active in the early 1990s. Wallace used a towel to cover a piece of cord when he strangled his victims. This way, there wasn’t a dark mark where the cord wrapped around the victim’s neck. He also kept his victim’s bodies warm so forensic investigators would have trouble determining the exact time of death.

Police combed through the Whelan home, looking for the cord or rope used to strangle Mary. Various items were tested, but when they got to Colin’s dressing gown belt, everything became clear. The middle section had been stretched, and testing showed Mary’s blood in the fibres. When police found the belt, it was in place, on the dressing gown. So, as Colin watched paramedics scramble to save his wife, he stood with the murder weapon tied around his waist.

In building the case against Whelan, investigators went to Wales to visit his online girlfriend, Helen Sheppard. Helen welcomed them inside and confirmed that she knew Colin Whelan. In fact, his photograph was on her fridge. But she said she hadn’t heard from him for a couple of days. Pat Marry told her that his wife was dead. She wasn’t surprised, she knew his wife died in a car crash a long time ago. The investigator informed her that Colin’s wife had died recently, and that Colin was suspected of killing her. Helen was shocked and physically collapsed. Once she calmed down, Helen said she would do anything she could to help. She had kept printouts of all their correspondence – an astonishing testament of their love affair. It was also evident that she had no knowledge that Colin was married to Mary – and definitely not of the plot to murder his wife.

Whelan was arrested and charged with murder. He did not admit to anything – when police showed him all the evidence, he stubbornly answered: no comment to everything.

The trial date was set for October 2003 – two years later. A Jimmy Brassil, his brother-in-law, paid half of his bail and Colin paid the rest. He was released on the very same day. The accused wife killer was allowed to live at home, but Permanent Bank did not want him back. He moved in with his parents and rented out the house on Clonard Street, which gave him an income. He had to surrender his passport and report to police daily. He diligently signed in at Balbriggan Garda Station, every day for a year. For the most part, he drove around town in Mary’s car and to his family, he seemed depressed from time to time.

Then, in May 2002, his family reported him missing. A quick review of Balbriggan Garda Station paperwork confirmed that he had not signed in the day before. Where was he? Mary’s car was not at his house, and no one had seen him in two days. The Gardai sent out an alert, and before long, Mary’s Peugeot 203 was found abandoned at Howth [hoath] Head – a scenic spot popular with hikers.

The car was parked in a lot near a cliff’s edge. On the passenger seat, they found the car keys and an empty bottle of gin. Did Whelan drink the entire bottle and jumped over the cliff into the Atlantic?

A comprehensive land and sea search did not yield a body. This was a formality because no one in law enforcement believed Colin Whelan had taken his own life. Still, they needed to exclude the possibility that he had done so.

Pat Marry smelled a rat from the start. The car was neatly parked in a parking bay. It did not look like the scene where someone, at the end of his tether, had come to end things. Because there was no sign of Whelan, and he was a murder suspect with an upcoming trial, the Gardai launched a large-scale manhunt. Whelan’s photo was distributed to all media channels, and widely publicised.

Over a year, there was no sign of Whelan anywhere in Ireland. Police kept the story in the news as much as possible, and eventually, it paid off. One night, a woman reading the newspaper saw Colin’s photo and her blood ran cold. She had recently been on holiday in Majorca with her husband when they met an Irish bartender Majorca in Portals Nous. The man introduced himself as Cian Sweeny, and they got talking about rugby. After a pleasant conversation, the couple agreed to send him a rugby jersey once they were back home and asked for his address. He gave them the pub’s business card and wrote his email address on the back. But seeing wanted murderer, Colin Whelan’s picture, the woman realised that the man she spoke to, was not who he said he was. She contacted the police and told her about meeting Whelan in Majorca.

Pat Marry studied the handwriting on the card and compared it with Whelan’s handwritten statement he had on file. Even to the naked eye, it was an exact match.

In Majorca, 33-year-old Cian Sweeny was loved by everyone who met him. He was working in a bar, had a girlfriend and enjoyed his life. The bar owner where he worked was blown away when he learned about Cian, or rather Colin’s past. He recalled what Colin told him about his life in Ireland:

“All he said was his parents were dead, and he didn’t have any family. As an employee, he didn’t give us any problems. He did his job well, and he’d go for a few beers in the evenings when he clocked off. It’s come as a major shock to us to learn he was wanted for the murder of his wife.”

The amiable bartender’s number was up. Gardai contacted police in Majorca and informed them about the situation. The fugitive was arrested within the hour. He insisted they had the wrong person, that he did not know anything about Colin Whelan and his murdered wife. However, fingerprints confirmed that he was the man wanted by Irish police. He was kept in Palma prison while waiting to be extradited.

Whelan explained to Pat Marry how he made his way to Spain. To get a passport, he assumed the identity of his childhood neighbour, Martin Bernard Sweeny. Colin and Martin were never friends but knew each other well enough. Martin lived with his parents, and Colin knew he didn’t have a passport. Colin knew enough about him to impersonate him – they were, after all, two Gormanstown lads of the same age and somewhat similar appearance. Somehow, Colin managed to get Sweeny’s birth certificate and being the same age, passed himself off as Martin when he applied for a passport. Colin received the passport with his photograph and Martin’s name.

He drove around a lot, looking for the best location to stage his suicide. He chose Howth Head because there were no CCTV cameras. On the morning of XX, he abandoned Mary’s car, then took the train going north to Belfast, from where he flew to London – using the legally obtained passport. From London, he travelled to Barcelona, from where he caught a boat to Majorca. He was granted a Spanish National Identity card and worked at the Karma Bar in the resort town of Puerto Portals. He told people his name was Cian because it was closer to his real name, Colin. If people asked where he was from, he’d simply say: Dublin, and never gave too many details. It was a lucky break that they caught him when they did because ‘Cian’ had planned to travel to Singapore the next week.

After a short stay in a Madrid prison, he was extradited back to Ireland to stand trial for the murder of his wife. His brother-in-law, Jimmy Brassil who had paid more than £9,000 for his bail in 2003 was ordered to pay 1,000 Euro because Whelan breached bail conditions. Jimmy’s solicitor said that he was ‘as surprised as anybody’ that Colin disappeared. Jimmy organised a search, looking for Colin’s remains when his car was found. But the judge upheld the fine – saying that by bailing out a murder suspect he accepted the responsibility to ensure Whelan didn’t become a fugitive. But he did. So, all up, Jimmy lost over ten grand thanks to Colin Whelan. At jimmy’s hearing, Whelan didn’t even make eye contact, let alone apologise or take any responsibility.

11 April 2005, Colin Whelan’s trial began at the Central Criminal Court in Dublin. Much to everyone’s surprise, he pleaded guilty. When his family heard him admit guilt, they were shocked. Mary’s family did not expect that, either. They thought that Colin would try to get away with it again.

The true story of what happened inside Colin and Mary’s home on February 28th, 2001, was revealed. Colin had planned to end his wife’s life methodically – he wanted her out of the way before he met his online girlfriend.

On that Wednesday afternoon, Whelan was at work like any other day. He clocked in at work at 8am, at lunchtime he went out and bought a gift for Mary. It was a small figurine, the second one in a pair, of which they received the first as a wedding gift. When he returned to the office, he called his online girlfriend and happily discussed their plans to meet up – she would come to Ireland and stay at his house for a couple of days.

He had done his research about the impending murder and was confident that his chosen killing method would work. To dot the i’s and cross the t’s, he searched the term ‘loss of consciousness’ one last time on his work computer. This was at 2:24pm – ten hours later, Mary was dead.

He called Mary to say he would be leaving soon, and then took the train home. While Mary prepared their dinner, Colin went to the gym.

When he returned at 7pm, they had their meal together, and then Colin drove Mary to Drogheda, where she had a 9:15pm appointment with a homeopath to discuss blood test results. The homeopath did not notice anything strange and thought Colin was his usual self.

Back home, Mary excitedly read through the information about her upcoming detox before going upstairs to change into her pyjamas. Meanwhile, her calculating husband was preparing to set his dark plan in motion…

Without warning, Mary’s husband of less than a year entered the bedroom, walked up to her, placed a towel, wrapped around the belt from his dressing gown, around her neck and strangled her. Mary fought and struggled to get out of his firm grip. She scratched his chest, drawing blood, and he let go. Desperate to escape the situation, Mary ran out of the bedroom, but Colin quickly caught up with her and grabbed her arm with such force that he tore her pyjama shirt sleeve.

Angered and determined to finish what he had started, Colin dragged his wife back to the bedroom by her long brown hair and shoved her onto their bed. Mary kicked him, trying her best to fend him off. But Colin didn’t budge. He took the yellow towel again and hooked it back around her neck. Mary lost consciousness, and before long, she was dead.

Colin did not stop to consider what he had just done. Instead, he jumped into action to complete the second part of his plan: posing her body to make it look like there had been an accident. He dragged his wife’s body down the stairs, head-first. Her back bruised as her lifeless body thumped down step-by-step.

In a statement read in court by the defence attorney, Hugh Harnet, Whelan admitted that he was a coward. He read a statement in court, saying that he accepted ‘full responsibility for Mary’s death.’ And a quote from Whelan states:

“I know these words will ring hollow for Mary’s family. I will live with this regret and sorrow for the rest of my life. There are no words to explain my act.”

To Mary’s mother, Marie, he said:

“I apologise for the protracted delay today, and I apologise for taking your daughter, friend and soul mate so unnecessarily.”

Whelan said that he was sorry for taking Mary away from her family.

Whelan was found guilty and sentenced to life in prison. Mr Justice Carney said that this crime was a case of ‘the most calculated and callous killing’ he had ever witnessed.

Mary’s family felt deeply betrayed. Not only did they lose their daughter and sister, but they also lost Colin, who was one of them – a brother and a son. Mary’s brother David made a victim impact statement, he looked at Colin when he said that the Gough family would “never, ever, ever” forgive him because he took a piece of each of them when he ended Mary’s life.

Marie Gough struggled to come to terms with the fact that Colin was the one who ended her daughter’s life. She said that Mary’s only crime was loving Colin Whelan too much – it was her “one true mistake in life“. The fact that Colin never asked for their forgiveness or said sorry in person proved to Marie how heartless her daughter’s husband was. She said:

“I wouldn’t have minded for him to apologise to my face. He’ll get out in so many years for good behaviour, his family can visit him, bring him little gifts, talk to him and put their arms around him and give him a hug. But I haven’t got that, I stand in a graveyard, and that’s it.”

Why did he do it? If life in Majorca was how he wanted to live, why marry Mary? Marie Gough doubts he ever really loved Mary and that he married her to kill her and cash in the life insurance pay-out. It wasn’t a crime of passion, but a crime of greed. And he never received the money anyway, so what – one may ask – was the point of it all? A precious life lost, all for nothing…

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