Calendar An icon of a desk calendar. Cancel An icon of a circle with a diagonal line across. Caret An icon of a block arrow pointing to the right. Email An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of the Facebook "f" mark. Google An icon of the Google "G" mark. Linked In An icon of the Linked In "in" mark. Logout An icon representing logout. Profile An icon that resembles human head and shoulders. Telephone An icon of a traditional telephone receiver. Tick An icon of a tick mark. Is Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes. Is Not Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes with a diagonal line through it. Pause Icon A two-lined pause icon for stopping interactions. Quote Mark A opening quote mark. Quote Mark A closing quote mark. Arrow An icon of an arrow. Folder An icon of a paper folder. Breaking An icon of an exclamation mark on a circular background. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Caret An icon of a caret arrow. Clock An icon of a clock face. Close An icon of the an X shape. Close Icon An icon used to represent where to interact to collapse or dismiss a component Comment An icon of a speech bubble. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Ellipsis An icon of 3 horizontal dots. Envelope An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Home An icon of a house. Instagram An icon of the Instagram logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. Magnifying Glass An icon of a magnifying glass. Search Icon A magnifying glass icon that is used to represent the function of searching. Menu An icon of 3 horizontal lines. Hamburger Menu Icon An icon used to represent a collapsed menu. Next An icon of an arrow pointing to the right. Notice An explanation mark centred inside a circle. Previous An icon of an arrow pointing to the left. Rating An icon of a star. Tag An icon of a tag. Twitter An icon of the Twitter logo. Video Camera An icon of a video camera shape. Speech Bubble Icon A icon displaying a speech bubble WhatsApp An icon of the WhatsApp logo. Information An icon of an information logo. Plus A mathematical 'plus' symbol. Duration An icon indicating Time. Success Tick An icon of a green tick. Success Tick Timeout An icon of a greyed out success tick. Loading Spinner An icon of a loading spinner. Facebook Messenger An icon of the facebook messenger app logo. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Facebook Messenger An icon of the Twitter app logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. WhatsApp Messenger An icon of the Whatsapp messenger app logo. Email An icon of an mail envelope. Copy link A decentered black square over a white square.

Almost a century on, podcast unpicks how Edinburgh husband’s awful crime led to a string of deaths

© SYSTEMThe murder was covered in the Sunday Post on December 5, 1926.
The murder was covered in the Sunday Post on December 5, 1926.

It was a murderous mystery that startled Edinburgh’s most polite parlours and was to feature what must be one of Britain’s most refined police raids.

On March 17, 1926, Edinburgh’s middle classes were left reeling following the suicide of a wealthy widow. Bertha Merrett, whose fortune came from her late wine-merchant husband, had apparently taken her own life in the drawing room of her terraced home in the capital’s genteel Buckingham Terrace, leaving behind her art student son, John Donald Merrett.

Yet the death of Bertha hid a darker secret that scandalised Scotland and was only resolved 30 years later, after two more murders followed by a suicide in a German forest.

The case was covered by The Sunday Post almost a century ago and is now being explored in a gripping new true crime podcast. With the help of archive copies of the paper, comedian and Radio Scotland host Susan Morrison investigated the death – which was eventually ruled as a murder – for an episode of Unspeakable Scotland, released tomorrow.

The family maid heard a scream and a gunshot not long after breakfast, and a shaken Donald appeared asking for the police, saying his mother had shot herself.

Mrs Merrett was found on the floor, according to the maid, while the pistol lay on the bureau. Despite the gunshot wound being at the back of her head, police believed her son’s story.

Remarkably, Mrs Merrett wasn’t dead. She was taken to hospital and managed to cling to life for 10 days. She woke up several times and is reported to have said: “Was it Donald? He’s such a naughty boy.”

Despite this evidence, police, according to Susan, were reluctant to consider anything but suicide. “Several times Bertha floated in and out of consciousness and several times she made it quite clear that it was Donald. But he was only 17 so the police seem to think that, since he’s only a teenager, he can’t possibly have done such a thing. Donald, shall we say, was just a wee bit advanced.”

Two weeks prior to his mother’s death, Donald purchased the gun and, on the day of her apparent suicide bid, visited his favourite dance hall, as well as his favourite prostitute. Far from being a genteel middle-class art scholar, the teenager was, in fact, an accomplished conman. The investigation into his mother’s death seemed over, but money Donald was due to inherit was placed into a trust until he was 25 and the frustrated teen began to forge his mother’s signature in order to access the cash.

It was this suspicious activity and further investigations into Bertha’s death that resulted in his arrest for murder 10 months later, as reported in The Sunday Post.

“Young John Donald Bennett has gone to High Wycombe to visit family and police were sent to arrest him, which The Sunday Post describes rather as if they’d travelled across the world,” explained Susan. “It’s probably more like Miss Marple territory, a small cottage with roses round the door, like the opening to a murder mystery.”

The headline in The Sunday Post – “Police Interrupt Lunch At Vicarage” – helped bring the trial to national attention. Yet the verdict, after a trial that captivated the media, was “not proven”. Donald was found guilty of forgery but, after a short spell in prison, was freed.

He changed his name to Ronald Chesney and started a new life.

It wasn’t until three decades later that doubts about what happened were dispelled. Just as he had with his mother, Donald plotted to murder his new wife, Vera. He drowned her in the bath, but the murderer was interrupted by Vera’s mother. He strangled the witness, and fled to Germany, where he had spent time during and after the Second World War.

It was in a German forest, while on the run from detectives from both countries, where Donald Merrett shot himself. “That should be the end of him,” added Susan, “but British police have this double murder to solve. Vera’s mother scratched the arm of Donald in the struggle, so British detectives asked their German counterparts for any evidence.

“In a grisly bit of history, the German police do the most German thing you can think of and remove and preserve Donald’s arms in jars of formaldehyde, and send them back to the UK.”

She added: “It was 1954, you would think they would have just used a camera.”

In researching the case, Susan was intrigued by the media coverage from the 1920s, especially The Sunday Post.

“A lot of down-market publications went to town on the goriness of it all, but The Sunday Post focused on a lot of fascinating details. What people wore, how it scandalised society, how Donald was arrested at lunch with a vicar’s wife.

“They also managed to get a scoop in interviewing Donald and Bertha’s maid. It really took me back to imagining what it was like to read something like this over breakfast.”


Unspeakable Scotland, featuring Susan Morrison’s John Donald Merrett episode, from The Big Light, is released tomorrow