Sheppard's fate seemed sealed from the get-go. He didn't have the luxury of a camera crew to film the murder. There were no scriptwriters to steer his story in a positive direction. And he couldn't count on 1950s forensics to decisively determine his guilt or innocence. The doctor's fate depended on the strength of his words, the unbelieving ears of the public, and his own dubious actions.

In the immediate aftermath of the crime, Sheppard looked like a culprit trying to hide his blood-red hands. As the Washington Post detailed, for days the doctor deemed himself medically unfit for interrogation. Another physician backed that position, but it was Sheppard's older brother, Stephen. Sheppard additionally balked at requests to take a polygraph test or any kind of truth serum. Did he have something to hide? Unquestionably.

For three years, Sheppard had cavorted with nurse Susan Hayes. He dazzled her with gifts, and she gave him her heart. He then resolutely lied about his extramarital affair to authorities. But much to the doctor's dismay, Hayes didn't. She instantly became the linchpin of the prosecution's case, which alleged that Sheppard slayed his wife during a fight about Hayes.

Hayes was only one of several courtroom haymakers. Investigators had found what seemed to be Marilyn Sheppard's blood on her husband's watch. Moreover, the coroner implied in court that the murder weapon (which never surfaced) was a surgical tool. Predictably, the jury found Sheppard guilty and he received a life sentence.