By NATASHA COURTENAY-SMITH

Last updated at 07:35 12 July 2007

Married for 65 years, they seemed the epitome of a loving couple. But shortly after this picture was taken, Herbert Powell stabbed his wife to death. He claimed it was to end her agony from arthritis. Here, their son tells a very different story...

To residents in the tranquil South Devonshire village of Strete, Herbert Powell and his wife Irene appeared to be the perfect couple. Married for 65 years, they were often spotted strolling hand in hand as they filled their lives with gardening, social engagements and the local church.

They were popular with villagers, and their enduring relationship was considered a heartwarming, and rare, example of lasting love.

But two years ago, their neat one-bedroom bungalow became the scene of a brutal crime when Herbert killed 86-year-old Irene.

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While no one is sure of the provocation, it is known he beat his wife - who was virtually blind - with a rolling pin and stabbed her in the heart with a kitchen knife. He also slit their cat Digger's throat, and then placed a selection of photographs of the couple's two children in Irene's lifeless hands before fleeing the scene.

Last month, after admitting manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility, Herbert Powell was sentenced to three years in prison. In court, he claimed he'd committed a 'mercy killing' because his wife wanted to die to escape the pain of her crippling arthritis.

The fact he'd already served 19 months in custody and was ruled not a danger to the public by the judge at Plymouth Crown Court meant he was able to walk free and return home.

Given Herbert's great age of 89 and failing health, it is difficult not to feel for him as he returns to eke out what will most likely be a lonely existence for the rest of his days at the home where the bloodstains have still not been removed from the walls and floors.

Today, however, the Mail can reveal an astonishing and disturbing postscript to this tragic story.

Herbert's son Rod, 62, has broken his silence to insist that his father's freedom is an 'outrage'. He paints a very different picture of the man who was described in court by the judge as having an 'uneventful life' until the moment he killed his wife.

Any sympathy towards his father, says Rod, would be utterly misguided. In fact, he isn't convinced his father does, or will ever, feel any remorse, even as he sets about cleaning up the bloody evidence of the killing.

'My father is, and always has been, a violent man with black moods,' says Rod, who runs a property company in Canada and is married to Roni, 61, a civil servant.

'When I heard that the villagers had described my parents as a "loving and devoted" couple, I almost couldn't believe they were talking about the same people.

'He can put on a show in public, but my whole family lived in fear of my father, and my mother - like all victims of domestic abuse - was left a shell of her former self.

'The judge ruled my father is not a danger to the general public, but if provoked there is no predicting what he'll do - as he's proven by killing my mother. He may be 89, but I am not fooled by his little old man act.'

A year ago, Rod wrote a heartfelt letter to his father expressing his feelings - the only contact he has had with him since his mother's death a year previously.

It reads: 'This is only the culmination of 61 years of living in fear for me, not to mention Mum. In the event of your trial, you need to know that I will give evidence for the prosecution. When you die, I will not attend your funeral.'

In fact, Rod insists that when his father does die, he will 'dance on his grave'. That would be, he says, a fitting goodbye to a man who has made his family's life a misery for more than six decades.

'As a child, I recall always feeling afraid of my father,' says Rod, who grew up in Harrow, North London. 'There was constant tension in the house, numerous loud arguments and I always felt a great concern for my mother, who was a housewife.

'My father, who at the time was a metallurgist, had such an unpredictable temper that you never knew where you stood with him.

WHEN he lost his temper, it was like a bomb going off. He regularly hit me across the face, even in public, for the smallest of things, such as not being good at maths or getting home late.

'There were certainly no outward displays of love and affection towards my younger sister and I.

'In fact, he seemed to delight in humiliating me. He often put me down in public, and in front of my friends. And he liked frightening me, too. I remember him telling me that if I did not behave, he would send the Red-legged Scissor Man to cut me up in the middle of the night - something that gave me terrifying nightmares for many years.

'My mother, like so many victims of an abusive relationship, led a life in which she simply tried to survive.

'On one occasion, when I was about ten years old, my sister and I were woken in the middle of the night by the sound of her screaming and him shouting.

'We rushed downstairs to see father, his eyes bulging with rage, raising an iron fire poker over mother's head while she cowered beneath him. My sister and I were holding hands and totally terrified. We simply yelled at them to stop.'

Later, when Rod referred to the

incident, his mother laughed it off and said his father had been trying to kill a mouse they'd spotted in the kitchen. However, Rod believes that he and his sister's arrival in the room saved her from what would have been a vicious beating.

'Given what she went through, and the fact she lived in constant fear, I don't know why my mother didn't leave,' says Rod. 'But she was a very traditional woman who believed marriage was for life. She was brought up never to question her husband.'

In 1965, at the age of 20, Rod left home, got a job in the City and married his first wife. He continued to see his parents several times a year.

'By that point, my relationship with my father was reduced to paying lip service only, and I consciously avoided seeing either of my parents because I just found it all too stressful,' he says. 'Because of the constant tension, my strategy was to avoid my parents as much as possible.'

In 1980, tragedy struck the family when Rod's sister died following a routine operation.

SHORTLY afterwards, his parents retired to Dartmouth. Rod, having divorced after five years, settled down with Roni, who was to become his second wife, and her two children from a previous relationship, and saw his parents only once a year.

'I didn't want Roni or my stepchildren to witness one of my father's tempers,' says Rod. 'And it was obvious nothing had changed.

'I remember one occasion when I visited them to help my father assemble a new kitchen. For no apparent reason, he suddenly dropped his tools, turned to me and started into an enormous rage against my mother, even though she wasn't there.

'He was red in the face and his eyes were bulging. I cannot recall the words he used, but the impression I got was one of total hatred.

'Although I never considered that one day he might go as far as killing her, the depth of his rage was frightening. I never told my mother about his outburst, and afterwards he acted as though nothing had happened.'

In 1990, Rod and his wife moved to Canada, where his wife was born. Over the following years, Rod gained the impression that, with age, his father's temper was finally beginning to subside.

Indeed, by the time of his parents' 60th wedding anniversary in September 2001, Rod even dared to hope that perhaps there was a chance of a more fulfilling relationship with his father.

'I returned home for the celebrations, and although my father did lose his temper at one point because we went to the wrong church for the blessing, we had a fairly nice time and chatted and laughed together like a normal family would.

'Mum, for her part, was by then virtually blind, but still seemed full of life. She proudly showed off her flower arrangements, telling me she'd done them all by touch and smell.

'Afterwards, we spoke regularly, but I mostly talked to my mother. It was always difficult to talk to my father unless it was about the weather or the garden.'

In fact, that visit was to be the last time Rod saw his mother alive. One Friday in November 2005, he received a fax at work telling him to call his aunt or the police immediately.

'My first thought was that Dad must have crashed the car, but when I called my aunt she said there was no way she could break the news gently. My father had killed my mother and I must get home as soon as possible.

'I was stunned and dumbfounded. The room started spinning and I started shaking. I felt in a total daze.

'By the time I got home, two local policemen were waiting. They'd been sent to break the news. I was told that Dad had been found slumped at the wheel of his car, reeking of whisky, after crashing into a wall 100 yards from the house. The police took his keys from him and went to the house to discover Mum, and the cat, dead.

'I heard that my father was telling the police it was a mercy killing to put Mum out of the pain caused by arthritis - but I never believed that for a moment. She wasn't the sort to complain about anything. Mentally, even at 86, she was as bright as a button and never failed to miss out on the village gossip. Besides, if he was

putting Mum out of her misery, why did he have to butcher the cat as well?'

Two days after his mother's killing, Rod and his wife returned to Britain to identify her body. His father was already in custody.

The sight of his mother's injuries, says Rod, left him in no doubt of the violence of the attack. He is quick to point out that were it truly a kind of compassionate euthanasia, there are surely many more humane ways to go about ending a life than with a knife to the heart.

In February 2006, while in Britain for his mother's funeral, Rod considered seeing his father for the first time. 'I wanted to confront him about what he'd done, but in the end the authorities wouldn't let me visit him. And the more I thought about it, the more I felt I couldn't bear to see him anyway.

'Mum was cremated that week and her ashes buried next to her sister. Many people turned up from the local village and all were very puzzled by the way she'd met her end. They'd all seen my father as this sweet old man. Only my family and I knew differently.'

In March this year, Herbert Powell went on trial. Rod had already given a damning police statement in which he detailed his father's violent nature. But he was never given the chance to air his views in court.

Within hours, the trial was halted when the judge indicated the medical evidence was too contrasting to enable her to direct a jury.

While the defence argued Powell was not sane of mind and had suffered a stroke, the prosecution said he was clear minded and knew exactly what he was doing. The judge then accepted Powell's guilty plea to manslaughter.

'I couldn't see my father's face from the public gallery, but I remember sitting in court listening to his voice and feeling totally disassociated to him,' says Rod.

'I had no feelings for him whatsoever. If he'd been found guilty of murder, he would have been the oldest person in Britain to be convicted - and I didn't want that stain on our family history.

BUT likewise, as his plea was accepted, I honestly felt as though he'd got away with it. Even so, I hoped manslaughter would be enough to see him sent to prison for the rest of his life.'

Days later, Rod visited his parents' bungalow for the first time. 'I knew it hadn't been cleaned, and I thought going there and seeing the crime scene would be traumatic,' says Rod.

'Actually, it wasn't as upsetting as I'd expected, although seeing Mum's blood everywhere did confirm to me the brutality that had been used. I stayed a few nights and sorted out paperwork, sleeping in the living room.'

Last month, sentencing of Herbert Powell finally took place.

'I was horrified when the 19 months he'd spent remanded in custody was considered adequate and he was just let loose,' says Rod.

'I didn't attend the sentencing, but I heard that someone drove him home afterwards. To be honest, I wish they'd made him walk.'

It is clear Rod is still haunted by his mother's death. Last October, the stress of what happened became too much and he suffered a breakdown. He was admitted to hospital and diagnosed with post traumatic stress syndrome. He now has counselling once a week.

'What's awful about a brutal killing like this is that once it's happened to your family, you're stuck with it for life,' says Rod. 'You can never forget about it or move on.

'My life has been irrevocably changed through no fault of my own. The fact it was my father who killed my mother only makes it even harder to come to terms with.

'I have no idea what the future will bring, but there is one thing that I am sure of. I will never forgive my father for what he's done. I never want to talk to him again.'