At 7 p.m. on Saturday 9 March the three boys were at home with their father and stepmother. The two eldest, David and Ronald, were sitting in the lounge when a fight broke out between their parents who were in the kitchen at the time. The argument was because Sybil was planning to go out for the evening and Walter objected.
When Worthington came into the lounge he was carrying a double-barrelled shotgun, which he broke open. He looked into the breach, most likely to check whether it was loaded, then shut it again. Worthington walked to the end of the room and put the gun in the corner. But he was restless and almost as soon as he had done this he returned to the gun, moved it closer to the fire and sat in a nearby chair.
The boys heard Sybil call out from the kitchen: âIs my coat in there?'
Her husband replied: âIt's in here on the settee.'
A few moments after this Sybil came into the living room to get her garment. She began putting it on as she left the room, but her husband called out after her: âStand back. What's on tonight? You are going for a motorbike ride, aren't you?' Sybil did not answer him.
Within moments a shot had been fired. Worthington had fired as he stood with his back to the door, blocking his wife's exit from the house. She dropped to the floor and Walter paused for just long enough to prop the gun in the recess behind the door. Neither boy saw their father actually shoot the gun but Ronald immediately realised what had happened and asked his father why he had done it.
Worthington did not answer but told the boys that he was going to see Revd Alfred Stearn, the rector of Broughton. He walked into the hall and put on his coat and hat, said goodbye to Ronald and passed the boy a key which he said must be handed over to the police.
Worthington left the Meads and just after 7.30 p.m. flagged down a passing lorry and asked the driver to take him straight to the nearest police station saying that there was âsome trouble at home'. The driver, Reginald Arthur Thompson, thought his passenger seemed agitated but in spite of this, and his passenger's pleas not to stop, Thompson pulled over at the shop next door to the Crown to buy groceries and cigarettes.
Worthington scrambled out of the cab and hurried away. At just before eight he arrived at the rectory and was shown into the study. His opening comment was: âRector, I have shot my wife. Take me to the police station.'
Revd Stearn drove Worthington to St Ives. Along the way Worthington rambled on about Sybil, saying how much he loved her and that he had discovered that she had been unfaithful to him and that he did not understand how she could have betrayed him when he loved her so.
When they arrived at the police station they were met by Constable Worby. Stearn told the officer that Worthington had shot his wife. When Worby asked Worthington whether she was dead, Worthington kept repeating that he was afraid she was. The constable called for a senior officer, Inspector Hodson. By the time Hodson arrived Worthington was in a clearly distressed state. Hodson grabbed hold of Worthington's arm and asked what was the matter.
Worthington replied: âI have shot my wife.'
Hodson warned him that he was making a serious statement and would be wise to say nothing further but Worthington continued: âI must. She wanted to go out and I didn't want her to. I put the gun up and there I am afraid and deeply sorry for it â I have left a letter for you in the bureau. My son has got the key.'
Worthington was searched and was found to have two live cartridges in his pockets. He was detained at St Ives while Hodson and another constable went to The Meads to confirm the story.
They were not the first on the scene, however. For some reason Mrs Wright had been concerned about her sister. Two of the pub's customers, Ernest Harding and Mr Rignall, went to The Meads with Stearn's son soon joining them. Ernest found 6-year-old Bobby with Sybil's body. He took the little boy from the room and handed him over to Stearn's son to look after.
The police found Sybil Worthington's body where she had fallen. She was wearing her coat, which was not done up, and lying in a pool of blood. She had been shot through the left breast. There was a hole in the left breast of her coat, which showed scorch marks. This made it obvious that the shot had been fired from close range. There was also a similar but clean-cut hole in her jacket.
The post mortem, carried out by Dr Grove on 15 March, confirmed that the heart and left lung were lacerated and that the shot had entered about 1½in left of the nipple and had penetrated as far as the back of the spine. In his opinion Sybil had died instantly. The victim had been 5ft 2in tall and the gun had been fired at a slight downwards angle from within a foot of her.
The gun was found in the recess where it had been stashed. The right barrel contained a discharged cartridge, while the left barrel was fully cocked and contained a live cartridge. Hodson unlocked the bureau and found a bottle of fluid and several papers, including a letter written by Worthington.
An extract from the letter read: âI beg your pardon for all this trouble but please sift this thing out. Please arrange for the fluid in the bottle to be analysed. He is the cause of this tragedy.'
It was clear from the full letter that the âhe' in question was Lionel Wright. The letter concluded: âOnce more I apologise. W. Worthington. P.S. I cannot endure this any longer, as I have been abused by Lionel Wright. I have not been hasty. My wife left me on 24 January for the reason of spending the night at The Crown Inn. She has almost collapsed when I have accused her, and hung her head, and had nothing to say.'
Another letter addressed to Worthington was from a London firm. It referred to a diaphragm or Dutch Cap, which was mentioned in the subsequent news paper coverage as just âan instrument'. It was a popular form of contraception in the 1930s. In his letter Worthington explained that the pessary had been missing and he was sure that she had been using it with someone else. Hodson took the bottle to the public analyst at Cambridge but his findings are not known.
The inquest was held at the rectory at Broughton on the afternoon of Monday 11 March. A week later the funeral took place at Streatham cemetery. The same vicar who had married them conducted the ceremony and many of Mrs Worthington's friends and relatives attended, including former colleagues from Norman Hartnell's.
In an all-day hearing before magistrates at the St Ives Police Court on Tuesday 26 March, Worthington pleaded not guilty: âI did not intend to hurt her. It was an accident.' He was then committed for trial at the next Huntingdonshire Assizes.
Worthington's trial at Huntingdon Assizes began in mid-May. The prosecution pointed out that the first time Worthington had claimed the shooting to be an accident was on 26 March, seventeen days after his wife's death. But counsel was careful to tell the jury that, even had it been an accident and he had brandished the gun to threaten his wife when it went off, it would still amount to manslaughter because he would have been committing an unlawful act when he pointed it at her.
A gunsmith, William Adkin from Bedford, was called as an expert witness. He said that the gun was of Belgian manufacture and explained that it was slightly faulty and would require more pressure on the trigger than usual to make it fire. The average pull required to discharge a gun of this type was between 4 and 4½lb but Worthington's required 6lb. This made it highly unlikely that the gun could go off accidentally; the trigger would need to be physically pulled quite hard.
Two key witnesses were Worthington's own sons; David aged 16 and Ronald aged 13. They explained what had happened on the evening of their stepmother's death. Ronald in particular struggled to give evidence.
The rector, Revd Stearn, was also called to give evidence. This was not just based on the events of 9 March but because he appeared to know Worthington better than anyone else. Stearn described Worthington as a man who was âvery, very' devoted to his wife and extremely fond of his children. When Worthington's first wife had died Stearn had known him well enough to accompany him into town to do some shopping. He found Worthington to be a very sensitive man. At one point the accused had told him that he had left the door open all night hoping that Sybil would return. This was thought to have been in January, when she went to stay at the Crown for a week.
Walter Worthington
. (Author's Collection)
As Stearn gave this evidence Worthington appeared to become very distressed.
When it was his turn to take the stand Worthington was very precise about his wife's movements during her last week. The detail to which he had noted the time of her trips from the house appeared to border on the obsessive. He recalled that on Monday 4 March she had gone to the Crown at 3 p.m. and returned at 6.20 p.m. On the Tuesday she had gone to a concert at 7 p.m. and he had picked her up at 10.45 p.m. while on the Thursday she had again gone to the Crown at 3 p.m. but this time had not returned until five past ten. When Saturday arrived and she told him that she was planning to go out again he objected, saying that she had already been out during the week. But she had made up her mind to go and walked away.
He then claimed that it was in these next minutes that he wrote his note to the police and said that his intention was to kill himself if his wife would not listen to reason. It was only moments later, when Sybil and Walter were next face to face, that the fatal shot was fired.
âI was staggered. I did not think it would go off,' he told the court.
Under cross-examination Worthington went into more detail about his planned suicide. Mr Oliver for the prosecution asked he were jealous of his wife. âI did not like my wife going to the Crown,' Worthington replied. Oliver proceeded to ask Worthington a string of questions.
âWere you jealous of Lionel Wright?'
âYes, I had reason to be.'
âDo you remember telling Mr Parker that shortly after your marriage Lionel had insulted your wife?'
âI never said such a thing.'
âIs his evidence untrue?'
âYes.'
âDid you hear evidence of the conversation with you?'
âYes.'
âIs that true?'
âNo.'
âDid Lionel Wright say to you “I believe my father sooner than you”?'
âHe never mentioned it.'
âDid you pick up the gun then?'
âYes.'
âWhy?'
âBecause he threatened me. He used verbal threats.'
âWhat did he say?'
âHe said he would take it out of me.'
âAnd you picked up the gun for self protection?'
âThe gun was not loaded. I would have struck him with it if he had hit me.'
âOn 9 March you had not been shooting that day?'
âNo.'
âHad you had these cartridges a long time?'
âSince September.'
âDo you shoot birds?'
âI never shot the gun. It was a birthday present. The cartridges were sent with the gun.'
âAnd this evening your wife wanted to go out and you did not want her to?'
âNo.'
âAre you asking the jury to believe you loaded the gun to shoot yourself?'
âI do.'
âDid you consider how you were going to shoot yourself?'
âNo.'
âIt is a difficult thing to shoot yourself with is it not?'
âI don't know.'
âHave you ever made that suggestion in any public place before today?'
âNo.'
âYou have never made that suggestion before?'
âI was not asked to make a statement.'
âDo you say the letters were written while your wife was upstairs?'
âYes.'
âYou did make up your mind there was going to be a tragedy?'
âI intended to shoot myself.'
âDid you intend to shoot her and yourself?'
âNo.'
âThere were two cartridges.'
âI know.'
âOne of the boys said when you brought the gun into the lounge you broke it open and looked into it. Was that when you loaded it?'
âNo.'
âWhen your wife came downstairs you said you reasoned with her again?'
âYes, I said: “Are you really going out?”'
âWhere did she go?'
âShe was in the kitchen.'
âYou put the cartridges in the gun as she passed you?'
âYes.'
âWhy did you want to shoot yourself in front of her?'
âI was so miserable and wretched.'
âBut why in front of her?'
âI thought it would prevent her from going out.'
âWhy did you load the gun when she came into the room?'
âTo shoot myself, I thought my note explains that.'
âAre you sure you did not intend to shoot your wife?'
âNot at all.'
âIs there anything in your letter which points to your death rather than your wife's?'
âYes, there is.'
âIt was quite an accident?'