The Van Breda Family Massacre
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In South Africa, where crime and violence often reign supreme, there are places that seem untouched by the chaos beyond their gates. They are not protected by militia or morals, but by money. D'zalsa Golf Estate was one such place.

Cradled in the heart of the Stellenbosch wine country, the estate's high walls cut through rolling vineyards, surpassed only by the ridges of the Helderberg Mountains. Inside are rows of luxury manors lined by trimmed hedges and wrapped in the quiet confidence of wealth. But beyond de Zalza's iron gates, the real South Africa suffers.

Townships cling to the outskirts of Stellenbosch, where poverty, crime, and overcrowding are a reality its residents can't escape. Inside the comforts of Dezalza, however, life was good. The wide upper echelon lived their lives in relative peace as armed guards patrolled its perimeters and security cameras blinked red, always watching. Here, nothing unexpected happened… until it did.

At 7.12 a.m. on the morning of January 27th, 2015, a call came through to South Africa's emergency response line. What is your emergency? The operator asked. Her tone rehearsed and routine. She was met with a strange, nervous laugh. I need an ambulance. Lots. The caller stuttered.

Without missing a beat, she requested his name. It was Henry Van Breda. The 20-year-old was calling from 12 Goski Street, a quaint cul-de-sac nestled in the heart of De Salsa. His voice, though disturbingly steady, told the story of a young man whose world had just imploded. Before he could get the words out, however, the operator stuck to her script, oblivious to the horrors that surrounded him. It was De Salsa, after all.

How bad could it really be? Much to Henry's irritation, she stopped him several times, asking for a contact number and repeatedly asked him to clarify his address. Their GPS wasn't picking it up. He spelled out his address again. "I'm not picking it up," she repeated, again. "Are you sure?" she questioned, seemingly unsure that he knew his own home address. "Yes," he said, sighing audibly.

I'm not sure how much more specific I need to be." Henry grew more and more frustrated, and one can understand why. What the operator didn't know was that, while she struggled to pinpoint his location, he sat motionless, surrounded by bodies and the coppery stench of spilled blood. "Please just send an ambulance, then one ambulance," he asked again.

The operator's confusion continued for another agonizing five minutes before Henry eventually blurted out that someone had attacked his family. "What?" she asked. "Someone attacked my family in my house," he repeated. "Okay, so you need the police or..." she said, almost bored. "An ambulance," he sighed. She continued, asking who'd been injured.

"Everyone," Henry responded. The operator was immediately thrown off balance. When asked about their injuries, Henry paused. He wasn't sure. He explained that his mother, father, older brother, and little sister littered the floor around him. The tiles slick with their blood. No, they weren't conscious. No, they weren't responsive. "They don't look good," he said, citing blood oozing from open head wounds. "My sister's moving, but that's it," he said.

It's a miracle she was even alive. There had been an intruder. A man dressed in black, wearing gloves and a balaclava, and wielding an axe. The operator kicked into gear, asking if the suspect was still on the scene. Henry explained that the attacker had run away. He'd managed to fend the man off but blacked out soon after. When he came to, the house was eerily silent. The intruder was gone and his family was in pieces.

Now, he stood in the kitchen, bleeding from his side and near catatonic from shock. Henry's tone was drawn out, almost sleepy, and his words hung heavy in the silence that followed. The call would last just over 25 minutes. Long, painfully slow, and disturbing in its details. As the minutes dragged on, the operator began to second guess what she was hearing. She began to wonder if it was a prank call.

Henry was too composed, and his story too unbelievable. That said, the horrors he described were too visceral to be a lie. His parents lay mangled in a pool of blood, his brother wasn't breathing, and his sister's throat had been slit. "She's still alive," he said quietly. "But barely." And so, surrounded by death, Henry waited for help to come.

Outside, Dezalza began to stir. Gardeners turned on sprinklers, golfers lined up at the first tee, and mothers joined the school run, unaware of the carnage that had occurred in a gated illusion designed to keep the world out. The promise of Dezalza had been shattered beyond repair, and the path to uncovering the truth was just beginning. Part 1: A Portrait of Privilege

Before the blood, before the headlines, there was a family of five living in a whitewashed villa on a street called Goski. To the outside world, the Van Breda's were the embodiment of success. Affluent, attractive, and impeccably put together. The kind of family you might see in a real estate brochure. Martin, the Van Breda patriarch, was a man shaped by order, discipline, and ambition.

From early on, he had a mind for business and a relentless drive to succeed. He met Teresa, his wife, while they were both still young. She was everything he wasn't in all the right ways. The two complemented each other perfectly, building a life that balanced a hunger for success with strong family values.

Together, they raised three children: Rudy, the eldest, followed by Henry, and their youngest, Marley. Teresa managed the household and ensured their children were well-loved and well-supported, while Martin focused on advancing his career. Eventually, his ambition took them abroad. The Van Breda family packed their lives into suitcases and left South Africa in 2008, chasing new beginnings in Australia.

At the time, Rudy was roughly 15 years old, Henry was around 13, and Marley was about 9. They first touched down in Perth before settling into Queensland's Sunshine Coast, where palm trees lined the streets and ambition found fertile ground. There, Martin thrived.

He climbed the corporate ladder, eventually becoming the managing director of Engel & Volkers, a prestigious real estate firm known for catering to the wealthy. But Martin wasn't content with just one title.

He expanded into the tech industry too, investing in companies like Netstar and carving out a diverse portfolio that secured the family's financial future. Thanks to his entrepreneurial acumen, the family built a comfortable life in the lap of luxury. But after six years abroad, something pulled them back. In 2014, the van Breda's decided it was time to come home.

There is something to be said about returning to a country where life may be harder but grounded in reality. In places like Australia, the comforts of first-world living can slowly dull a person's sense of gratitude. It's easy to forget the beauty in the small things when everything is convenient. South Africa, for all its complexities, awakens that awareness.

With its sweeping landscapes, rich cultures, and stark realities, the country offered something raw and real. The move was a return to a place that reminded them of what mattered: family, heritage, and the realities of a life that has to be fought for. At least, that's what Martin and Teresa told those who asked. Of course, the move wouldn't come without its dangers.

South Africa is a country where violent crime and systematic inequality are part of daily life. But money makes all the difference, and the Van Breda's had enough of it to build a buffer. Within the fortified luxury of D'Azalza estate, their children could enjoy the richness of South African life without being exposed to its criminal underbelly. Or so they believed. Life in D'Azalza was idyllic.

And the Van Breda family fit seamlessly into this picture of suburban bliss. Rudy, the eldest at 22, was a bright young man with a promising future. He was pursuing a master's degree in engineering at the University of Melbourne. The same year his family moved home, he decided to visit them over Christmas with plans to go back to Australia by the following February. Tragically, he'd be long dead by then.

Henry, like his older brother, had also been studying at the University of Melbourne. He'd enrolled in a Bachelor of Science degree with a focus on physics, but he put his studies on hold to join his family back home in August of that year. Marley, the youngest at 16, was a vibrant teenager attending Somerset College, a prestigious local high school known for its rigorous academics and picturesque campus nestled in the Cape Winelands.

The siblings seemed to share a close bond, as did the family as a whole. Yet, beneath the surface, complexities existed. Henry's return from Australia was not just a homecoming. It was also a period of adjustment after dropping out of university rather suddenly. Back in South Africa, he was in a transitional phase, navigating the expectations of his accomplished family and his own aspirations.

He was just trying to find his footing again, surrounded by stability but unsure of his place within it. Then, just six months later, everything changed. In a single night, the foundation of his privileged life eroded and he found himself in a hole he couldn't claw his way out of.

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Crime Hub. Part 2. DeSalsa's Darkest Hour. Paramedics and officers from the South African Police Service, or SAPS, descended upon DeSalsa, responding to what they initially believed was a home invasion gone wrong. The estate, known for its electric fencing, biometric access points, and 24-hour armed patrols, had never seen anything like this.

First responders screeched to a halt at 12 Goski Street. It was quiet, almost peaceful. The stately manor mirrored those surrounding it. Cape Dutch architecture, whitewashed walls, and broad, arched windows overlooking a cobbled path lined with lavender. The front door, however, was slightly ajar. It was an unusual sight in South Africa, even in a fortress like D'zalsa.

Sergeant Adrian Kleinhans kept towards the house, gun drawn, safety off, and blood pounding in his ears. Just then, the front door moved, and a young man stumbled out wearing only boxer shorts and white socks. One would think he just stepped out of bed, were it not for the dried blood splattered across his body and boxers. It was Henry Van Breda. He was understandably subdued, almost dazed, as chaos erupted around him.

First responder streamed into his family home while he was ushered towards an ambulance. Henry walked unaided and lay on the stretcher to be checked out, his stare blank and unblinking. According to Richard Jansa van Rensburg, the paramedic who tended to him, his pulse was regular and he exhibited no signs of panic. In fact, Henry was incredibly composed, answering Sergeant Kleinhans' questions clearly, albeit a little slowly.

Klein-Hans detected the faint scent of alcohol on his breath, which could explain his odd behavior, but so too could the horrors he endured. In a calm, monotonous voice, Henry recounted the brutal attack that occurred in the early morning hours and the bloodbath that followed. He'd been in his en-suite bathroom when he heard it, a frantic emotion coming from the bedroom he shared with his older brother, Rudy.

He opened the door, bleary-eyed and barely awake, and stopped dead in his tracks. What happened next was so gruesome he struggled to put it into words. A masked man stood in front of him, facing Rudy's bed with an axe held high over his head. It happened so quickly. Within seconds, the axe came down with a sickening wet crack. The man raised it up and brought it down, again and again and again.

Frozen in place, Henry heard himself scream for help as the frenzied attack unfolded before him. Suddenly, his father Martin appeared and attempted to tackle the intruder, desperate to save his son. It was too late. Not that it mattered. Martin was no match for an axe. The intruder laughed as he hacked through flesh and bone while Martin's surviving son watched in horror.

Henry said he tried to intervene. He lunged at the attacker and managed to wrestle the axe from his grip, but the man bolted, and Henry followed. He gave chase down the stairs, past the mutilated bodies of his mother and sister, and, without thinking, flung the axe at the attacker. It missed its mark and threw him off balance, causing him to lose his footing and fall. What happened next was unclear. Henry recalled losing consciousness and only coming to sometime later.

When he did, he found himself at the bottom of the staircase and panicked. Disoriented and in shock, Henry sat at the kitchen counter and chain-smoked three cigarettes in a bid to remain calm while he struggled to find the right number to contact emergency services. Henry's behavior struck some of the officers as strange, but it was far too soon to draw any conclusions. Their attention shifted instead to his injuries, or lack thereof.

Two neat slices ran across his chest that were barely deep enough to break the skin, and his left forearm bore a series of evenly spaced parallel cuts. Dried blood trailed down his ribs from a stab wound in his side, but the blade hadn't done much damage. Henry's injuries, while visible, were comparatively minor to those of his butchered family.

investigators were met with a massacre, with one describing it as the bloodiest scene he'd ever encountered. Upstairs, where the murders occurred, blood sprayed across the ceilings, dripped down the walls, and spilled over the steps from the first floor to the tiled entryway below. At the top of those stairs, just outside the bedroom Henry shared with Rudy, lay the first body. Teresa Van Breda had sustained severe head trauma.

Her nightgown was drenched in blood, and loose skull fragments and exposed brain tissue were visible to the naked eye. The 55-year-old mother's hands were mangled, indicating she'd raised them in defense, before collapsing near the landing, bruising her ribs, and receiving additional blows to the head. One arm was extended, as if she'd been reaching out, whether to break her fall or to warn her family, no one could say.

Inside the boy's bedroom, investigators found the body of 54-year-old Martin Van Breda slumped over Rudy's bed. Deepak's wounds to the back of his head exposed bone and brain matter, and his blood painted the walls and ceiling above. A single glance was enough. It was clear that he'd been taken by surprise and attacked from behind, which was further supported by the absence of any defensive wounds, contrary to Henry's account.

The body of 22-year-old Rudy Van Breda was sprawled out near the bathroom door. Investigators concluded that he'd been attacked while lying in bed on his stomach, as the mattress was soaked through with his blood. It was clear that he'd been dragged off the bed after the fact. He couldn't have crawled there himself. His wounds were far too catastrophic. He'd suffered multiple chop wounds to the head, neck, and upper body.

These injuries were inflicted with such force that they resulted in severe skull fractures and deep lacerations to the brain tissue. Notably, Rudy exhibited defensive wounds on his left hand, indicating he'd tried to shield himself from the onslaught. Disturbingly, it worked, but not in the way he'd likely hoped. Evidence suggested that Rudy clung to life for some time.

Blood was found in his stomach and lungs, which indicated that he'd swallowed and aspirated it while still breathing. Finally, there was 16-year-old Marley. She lay a few feet away from her mother's body, barely alive but breathing. Her skull had been fractured in multiple places. Deep gashes riddled her head, neck, and ear, and her jugular had been severed.

Blood soaked her once blonde hair and a trail smeared along the floor behind her, showing that she'd tried to crawl to safety. The teenager was covered in defensive wounds, unlike those of her fallen family, indicating a desperate struggle for survival. Incredibly, against all odds, she'd won. Marley was immediately rushed to a nearby hospital in critical condition for emergency brain surgery. Her brother, Henry, followed soon after.

The 20-year-old was taken to the hospital for observation as officers stretched yellow tape across the once-quiet cul-de-sac. Neighbors watched from a distance, their brows furrowed with concern. The news spread quickly, as did the whispers. Three members of a wealthy, well-respected family were dead. One clung to life. The only one left standing was Henry, and his version of events wasn't lining up.

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Part 3: Unraveling the Intruder Theory There were no signs of forced entry, no broken windows, no damaged locks. Nothing to suggest an outsider had forced their way in. The axe, which belonged to the van Breda family, was found in the laundry room, far from the staircase from which Henry claimed to have flung it. In fact, the inconsistencies in his account were becoming hard to ignore.

His story unraveled slowly, then all at once. Henry, the only survivor who was spared, claimed that a balaclava-clad man had broken into their gated estate in the early morning hours. The act would have required extensive knowledge of its security system, a high degree of skill to infiltrate it, and a very good reason to do so.

With nothing stolen, no bad business deals, and no enemies to speak of, investigators could find no compelling motive. They also couldn't find any evidence that substantiated his claims. The gates of De Salsa Estate, fortified with biometric access and 24-hour surveillance, showed no breaches. Not one alarm had been triggered, and security footage yielded nothing.

The idea of a masked man infiltrating one of the most secure estates in the region and escaping unnoticed was already hard to believe. That he did so without leaving a trace bordered on the impossible. Then there was Henry himself. His wounds were barely superficial. According to Dr. Michel Van Zyl, the emergency physician who treated him at Vergelijken MediClinic, said they didn't even require sutures, just basic dressings.

The claim that he managed to escape the same man with the same weapon during the same rampage, virtually unscathed, was inconceivable. And so too was the claim that he'd blacked out. Dr. Van Zyl confirmed that there were no signs of head trauma, concussion, or shock. All the symptoms one would expect from a young man who'd allegedly lost consciousness after fighting off the killer who'd mutilated his family beyond recognition.

Instead, Henry was calm, alert, and fully oriented, which quickly became another point of concern. During the emergency call, his tone was flat and composed, even disinterested at times. He didn't cry or scream. In fact, he actually chuckled to himself on more than one occasion, leading the operator to think it was a prank.

First responders were just as perplexed. They recalled Henry as unexpectedly relaxed, his pulse steady, as he described what should have been an unimaginable trauma. Most damning, however, was the timeline. Forensic analysis recovered Henry's phone records and search history, and what they found raised further suspicions.

at 4:24 a.m., long before he called for help. He tried to call his then-girlfriend, Bianca van der Westhuizen. After three minutes, he gave up and searched Google for emergency numbers, ignoring the laminated list of contacts fixed to their kitchen fridge. The list included a number for a 24-hour ambulance, though he never used it. Henry didn't call authorities until 7:12 a.m., nearly three hours later.

When investigators pressed the 20-year-old about the delay, he reminded them that he'd passed out. It didn't make sense. By his own account, the blackout came after the fall, and he was apparently coherent enough to get up, call his girlfriend, and search Google. This was not the behavior of a disoriented man. These were deliberate actions carried out during a time when he claimed to be suffering from shock. So, why the delay?

It was one of many inconsistencies encountered by investigators during interrogations. First, Henry said he lost consciousness at the foot of the stairs after slipping while pursuing his family's killer. Then, he described standing up and giving chase. At one point, he claimed to have spoken to a woman outside the house after the attack. Later, he retracted that claim. His story subtly shifted with each telling, and investigators started closing in.

They reconstructed the crime scene using blood spatter analysis, wound mapping, and forensic modeling. Forensic experts found that the pattern and direction of the blood spatter on Henry's boxers suggested proximity to the victims during the attacks, not as a witness, but as the one wielding the weapon. More so, the axe had been wiped clean in a way that directly contradicted the claim of a panicked escape.

A kitchen knife that also belonged to the family was found beneath Rudy's mattress, bent and bearing DNA from that of each victim and of Henry van Breda himself. As police suspicion mounted, so too did public scrutiny. Two days after the murders, an article in the West Australian ignited controversy in South Africa.

The piece claimed that Henry had suspended his studies in 2014 due to a brain tumor and had returned to South Africa for treatment. Pressed for clarification, family spokesperson Ben Rootman acknowledged that Henry had undergone a brain scan at the Royal Melbourne Hospital, but insisted the results were negative. Nonetheless, medical experts told the media that tumors in the frontal lobes could be linked to impulsive or erratic behavior.

Whether Martin and Teresa were aware of this remains unclear, but if they were, they'd kept it to themselves right until the end. While the investigation quietly continued, Henry moved in with an uncle and Stellenbosch and carried on with life as if nothing had happened. He took Bianca out on dates, went drinking with friends and bought weed, which was still illegal at the time.

As if that wasn't unsettling enough, during a visit to his family's home to collect personal belongings, he requested a bottle of Japanese whiskey he'd given to his now-dead father as a gift. Henry seemed to be everything but a grieving son and brother, and the public took notice. He was trailed by the press and photographed by strangers on the street. Eventually, it became too much for Bianca.

Their relationship ended and she took a trip overseas to distance herself from the fiasco. But Henry couldn't hide. Exhausted by the constant media presence outside of his uncle's home, he booked himself into a guest house. During the two weeks he stayed there, Henry lied to his hosts. He told them that he came from Johannesburg, claimed to be a student at the local Stellenbosch University, and said that his parents were alive and well in Australia.

Henry remained a free man for over a year. The investigation was methodical, but slow. There was simply no direct evidence that linked him to the murders. The crime scene was his home, and the only other surviving witness had, quite literally, been silenced. His younger sister, Marley, had been struggling down a grueling road to recovery, and it was far from over.

After undergoing emergency neurosurgery, the teenager was placed in a medically induced coma for several days and diagnosed with retrograde amnesia once she regained consciousness. She remembered nothing from the attack, and doctors warned that she likely never would.

Despite her life-changing injuries, however, Marley refused to give up. Just a few months after the murders, she was discharged from an intensive rehabilitation program. The teenager left the center walking, talking, and, remarkably, with her sense of humor intact. Of course, her ordeal wasn't over. With no arrests made, Marley remained under police protection.

She was cared for by family friends, while the High Court considered her long-term guardianship. Throughout this period, her resilience and determination were celebrated by South Africa as a whole. Even so, without Marley's testimony, the case rested almost entirely on circumstantial evidence. And building a case like that took time.

So, investigators held back, determined not to jeopardize the prosecution's case until they had enough evidence. And when that moment finally came, they made their move without hesitation.

On June 13th, 2016, investigators called Peter Bota, a top attorney known for representing high-paying, high-profile clients in controversial cases, like that of British businessman, Shreen Dhawani, who was accused of orchestrating his wife's murder during their honeymoon in South Africa. But that's a story for another time. Investigators notified Bota that the time had come. His newest client's time as a free man was over.

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The very next day, ahead of his arrest, Henry van Breda turned himself into the Stellenbosch police station. He appeared in court the following day and was formally charged with three counts of murder, one count of attempted murder, and one count of obstructing justice. Henry could no longer hide behind claims of his innocence. It was time to prove it.

Astonishingly, despite his family's wealth and the gravity of the charges against him, his bail amount was set to only 100,000 rands, which was roughly $6,800 at the time. It was inevitably paid and he was released on bail, but it didn't come without conditions.

He was, however, ordered to report to the Perot police station twice a week, remain within the Western Cape Province, surrender his passport, and refrain from contacting any state witnesses, including his sister Marley. Whilst Henry abided by his bail conditions, his behavior continued to draw attention. He appeared calm, emotionless, and, frankly, disinterested during court proceedings.

There were no tears nor appeals for justice for his murdered family, which further fueled suspicions. In fact, aside from the inconveniences of his legal situation, he seemed quite content with his new life.

Henry was seen attending rugby matches, socializing with a smile on his face, and had even gotten himself a new girlfriend, Daniela Janssé van Rensburg. The pair had met four months earlier, in February of 2016, during a cooking course at the Capsicum Culinary Studio in Salt River, Cape Town. At the time, Daniela was unaware of Henry's implication in the high-profile triple homicide case.

but when the shocking charges against him inevitably came to light, she didn't seem to mind. Daniela was loyal to a fault. She stood by Henry, believing his claims of innocence. "He told me everything. He was very open, he was very honest," she said in an interview. She described him as sensitive and selfless, insisting that he wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone his family.

Daniela's unwavering support persisted through intense public scrutiny, during which she maintained that he was a victim, not a killer. Of course, no one expected Henry to stop living his life simply because his family had lost theirs. People process trauma in their own time and their own way. Still, his ability to pick up where he left off so quickly and effortlessly left many unsettled.

It wasn't just that he moved on, it was how easily he seemed to do it. In comparison to Marley, who'd undergone intensive psychological counseling to cope with the trauma they both supposedly endured, Henry appeared oddly unaffected. More so, considering his precarious legal situation, one would expect him to err on the side of caution. Then again, with a legal team like his, it's no wonder he got cocky.

Peter Botta's defense strategy focused on reinforcing Henry's version of events: that an unidentified intruder had broken into the family's secure estate and gone on a rampage. Botta reminded the public that Henry had willingly given a statement to Saps and had cooperated with investigators, positioning his client as a traumatized survivor persecuted by the police.

There were no confessions and no direct forensic evidence linking Henry to the murders. The defense leaned on the absence of concrete proof and blamed the inconsistencies in his story on trauma and memory loss. The public, however, remained unconvinced. Henry van Breda was no longer viewed as a survivor. He was a suspect and soon he would be a defendant, though not soon enough it seems.

The trial was set to begin on March 27th, 2017, exactly 790 days after the massacre that prompted it. The delay, though officially blamed on legal procedure, came in the form of court filings. Led by Botta, Henry's defense team pushed for postponements under the guise of due process.

They disputed the format of evidence provided by the state, demanding raw DNA data and original crime scene photos, claiming that PDFs wouldn't cut it for proper analyses. Then, in March, just as the trial was about to commence, an application by the media to livestream the proceedings prompted another delay, pushing the start date to April 24th, only to have it land back on the docket in early April.

It was almost comical, though to some it seemed strategic. Many believed the defense was using delay tactics to buy time, hoping to soften public outrage, wear down the prosecution, or simply allow Henry more freedom while out on bail. Whether coincidence or calculated moves, however, the effect was the same. The courtroom opened on April 4th, 2017, but the real trial had yet to begin.

The day was consumed by debates over media access, complaints from the defense, and the slow turning of legal gears. It wasn't until April 24th that the formal criminal trial began. Witness testimony, blood evidence, and cross-examinations finally took center stage, along with a boy in a blazer, accused of turning an axe on his own blood. Part 5: The Trial of Henry Van Breda

On April 24th, 2017, the trial of Henry van Berda unfolded in the Western Cape High Court. The courtroom stirred with nervous excitement as the public and media gathered to witness South Africa's most anticipated trial since that of Oscar Pistorius. Another story for another time. An uneasy silence swept over the gallery as Henry entered the courtroom.

He donned a crisp navy suit and freshly pressed white shirt, looking markedly different from the rosy-cheeked boy in leaked family photos. His dark blonde hair was neatly parted and combed, its curls framing his noticeably thinner face. Dark bags sat beneath his eyes, cast in shadow by the weight of his brows. Whether from sleepless nights, guilt, trauma, or something else entirely, one couldn't be sure.

though revelations to come would offer unsettling insights. Henry's expression remained blank and unreadable, and his composure, as always, was distant. In fact, his demeanor throughout the trial was noticeably detached. He often appeared emotionless and showed little reaction to the harrowing testimonies and evidence presented. Of course, his lack of visible remorse or grief only fueled the prosecution's accusations against him.

The prosecution, led by Susan Galloway, showed no mercy during opening statements. They presented a case built on blood spatter analysis and forensic evidence, which directly contradicted the intruder theory. Aside from the inconsistencies already uncovered during the investigation, one previously unknown detail triggered an audible gasp across the gallery. Henry's injuries were not only superficial,

they were self-inflicted. Forensic pathologist Dr. Karen Tiemensma took the stand, stating unequivocally that the wounds were precise, unnaturally straight, and equal in depth, making them, quite literally, textbook examples of self-inflicted injuries. She emphasized that the cuts were easily reachable by Henry's dominant hand and bore none of the chaotic, defensive characteristics typical of an assault.

The cuts on his chest, for instance, were clean, parallel, and far too deliberate to have been inflicted by a madman on a killing spree. The conclusion, as echoed by every expert call to testify on the matter, was unsettling but clear.

Henry had hurt himself to intentionally mislead investigators. Then there was the blood spatter. Captain Marius Zuber, a seasoned bloodstain pattern analyst, testified that the spatter found on Henry's boxers and socks placed him in close proximity to the victims at the moment of impact. The fine mist of blood, consistent with high-velocity impact spray, aligned perfectly with where his father and brother had been struck.

It was a pattern only proximity could explain, created by the force of repeated blows and spraying outward in a predictable direction.

If Henry had truly been in the bathroom when the attack began, as he'd claimed, his family's blood would have painted an entirely different picture. Zubair's findings also pointed to the crime scene being staged, not abandoned in panic, as Henry had claimed. There was evidence that blood had been washed from objects in the shower, and Rudy's body had been moved post-mortem. Henry's version of events, of course, didn't account for either, casting significant doubt on his innocence.

That's not all. As the proceedings unfolded, a troubling pattern began to emerge. There appeared to be an unusual focus on Rudy. Forensic pathologist, Dr. Daphne Anthony, delivered harrowing testimony detailing the extent of the violence inflicted upon the Van Breda family. The unnecessary brutality they endured pointed to the attack being personal, but none suffered more than Rudy.

Dr. Anthony's autopsies revealed that the eldest Van Breda brother bore the brunt of the attack, receiving far more blows from the axe than his parents or sister. The excessive violence, particularly towards Rudy, raised questions about the motive and emotional state of the perpetrator.

The disproportionate number of blows brought down upon him suggested a personal vendetta or bitter rivalry, leading the prosecution to consider underlying family tensions as a potential catalyst for the crime. As it turns out, they were onto something. In interviews with the press, friends who stayed with the Van Breda's the week before they were murdered recalled Henry being particularly pissed off at his parents. According to him, they favored Rudy.

The idea enraged him, and he made his feelings known in no uncertain terms. However, those who knew Martin and Teresa were adamant the couple loved their children equally. Instead, it seems that their perceived favoritism was precisely that: perceived. From an early age, Henry seemed to exist on the periphery of his own family. In his mind, he existed in the shadow of his older brother.

Rudy was outgoing and athletic, and made friends effortlessly. Henry, on the other hand, was introverted and socially awkward. During an interview, another family friend recalled that, for reasons unknown to her, her sons would always play with Rudy, but never with Henry. "Something about him has always been different. I couldn't connect with him either," the woman had said.

She cited family photos of birthday parties that captured smiling children gathered around cakes. Then, there was Henry, sitting on the ground alone. It was hard not to feel sorry for him, despite the crimes he stood trial for. Then again, Henry's victim complex saw him enjoying attention from his parents.

Teresa had told the same family friend that she often spent sleepless nights staying up with Henry, consoling him for reasons she never shared. Even so, these facts added a valuable weapon to the prosecution's growing arsenal, a potential motive. They also gave insights into Henry's psyche, which only grew more fragile as he grew older. In the months leading up to the murders, his behavior became increasingly erratic, unsettling those who crossed his path.

Margaret Delport, a domestic worker at DeSalsa Estate, told the press about one particularly disturbing encounter that occurred in October of 2014. She claimed that Henry had shouted obscene and offensive remarks at her in Afrikaans, which translated to "Hey, you're a hot maid with a hot cunt and I'm going to fuck you good." Shaken, Margaret told him to go home, saying that he needed God in his life.

An estate security guard later consoled the deeply religious woman, telling her not to take any notice of Henry. "He's always been a nutcase," the guard had muttered. Margaret, on the other hand, was sure that the boy was under the influence of drugs, a rumor that later gained traction in court.

Then, a mere two weeks before the murders, a businesswoman from Stellenbosch reported a separate but just as upsetting incident at a shopping center in Welgevanden when a group of young friends pulled up in the parking lot. One got out and, according to her, began carrying on like a madman. He danced provocatively, opened his fly, and started swinging his penis around while shouting about the vulgar things he was going to do to the girls in the car.

When the businesswoman later read about Margaret's experience in the papers, she recognized the words that had been hurled at the poor woman. Then, she recognized Henry. These incidents painted a picture of a young man spiraling into instability.

Such accounts only reinforced the prosecution's portrayal of Henry as someone whose internal turmoil manifested in disturbing ways, leading up to the tragic events that unfolded. More so, they substantiated the troubling allegations that surfaced in court that Henry had been abusing drugs for years and that his family had been aware of it.

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Part 6: Drugs, Denial, and the Downfall of Henry Van Breda It came out in court that, in the months before the murders, Henry's relationship with his parents had grown increasingly strained. Martin and Teresa knew about his alleged substance abuse issues, and they were not happy about it.

Reports suggested that Martin had threatened to cut his son off from the family fortune if he didn't clean up his act. Then, on January 26th, 2015, Teresa confronted Henry with the same ultimatum. The following day, they were dead. During the trial, evidence was introduced that showed Henry might have spent time at Taguerre Clinic in Leuvenstein in 2014.

a private mental health facility specializing in psychological and substance abuse treatment. Despite this, however, his issues appeared far from resolved. In September 2016, while out on bail for the murder charges, Henry and his new girlfriend, Daniela, were arrested in Table View for possession of cannabis. Daniela immediately and voluntarily took the blame,

but Henry's involvement spoke volumes. The arrest, so close to his impending trial, showed a clear disregard for his legal situation and the wishes of his late parents. That's not all. After court proceedings began, further allegations emerged. While studying in Australia, Henry had reportedly earned the nickname "Druggie". It was another shocking revelation

The van Breda's hadn't returned to South Africa to raise their children there, but because Henry had been kicked out of university for drugs. Worse still, many, including his now dead brother, claimed that he then developed a particular affinity for tick, the South African equivalent of crystal meth.

Widely known for being dirt cheap and devastatingly destructive, Tick is infamous for causing paranoia, hallucinations, and sometimes violent outbursts. Those who succumb to its intoxicating hold often suffer damage to their prefrontal cortex. This part of the brain is responsible for judgment and impulse control, the lack of which weaponizes chronic users' severe mood swings and dangerous delusions.

One of the most chilling cases of this is Rosemary Tron, who was murdered by her own daughter, Phoenix Tron, and Phoenix's boyfriend, Kyle Maspero, in 2013. Both were teenagers, and both were tick addicts. After planning the act in advance, Phoenix lured Rosemary into a hug, and Kyle crept up from behind, strangling her with her daughter's scarf.

The pair were eventually caught, charged, and sentenced. But their case became a grim warning of how quickly tick can erode judgment and destroy families. Yet, in court, the defense chose not to refute these allegations. Instead, they focused almost entirely on presenting Henry as a victim of a home invasion, leaning into his claim of memory loss, which they now attributed to a seizure.

To substantiate this dubious claim, the defense brought in Dr. James Butler. The neurologist blamed Henry's behavior on a grand mal seizure, which can cause confusion, disorientation, and memory loss. The court, however, disagreed. Judge Siraj Desai promptly dismissed Dr. Butler's testimony, pointing out that his conclusions rested on the accused's own account.

An account which was intensely scrutinized when Henry himself took the stand. In early November 2017, the 23-year-old faced off with the prosecution in a brutal cross-examination. As always, he remained calm and composed, but something was different. A sheen of sweat glistened on his brow and his breathing was slow and deliberate. Finally, the faintest sign that he was human. Not that it mattered.

Prosecutor Susan Galloway wasted no time picking apart his testimony. Most damningly, she questioned his final Hail Mary, noting that his alleged epilepsy had never been documented before the murders. The courtroom watched as Henry, still stoic but visibly rattled, clung to his story. It was, of course, a futile effort.

Both sides had their say, and his had lost. Henry, however, wasn't so sure. When it came time for sentencing, he was seen repeatedly turning to smile at Daniela, certain that the scales would forever be tipped in his favor. As it turns out, he was wrong. On June 7th, 2018, the Western Cape High Court delivered a sentence that prompted a collective sigh of relief across South Africa.

Henry van Breda was found guilty on all counts. Judge Siraj Desai described the massacre as "exhibiting a high level of innate cruelty," condemning the excessive violence inflicted upon unarmed and defenseless victims.

Despite Henry's age and lack of prior convictions, Judge Desai asserted that the severity of the crimes warranted the harshest possible penalties and sentenced him to three life terms for each murder, 15 years for attempted murder and 12 months for obstructing the course of justice. Henry stood in place, his hands clasped in front of him as he stared blankly ahead.

He blinked only occasionally, his pale blue eyes betraying nothing. Not anger, not disbelief, not even fear. He only gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Behind him, Daniela sat upright in the public gallery as Henry turned and smiled at her for the last time as a free man. Part 7: After the Axe

After his sentencing, Henry was initially held in the hospital section of Polesmoor Prison due to concerns over his safety. And those concerns turned out to be well-founded. Life in prison, unsurprisingly, was not easy for South Africa's most infamous rich boy turned butcher.

After being taken to Drakenstein Correctional Center in Parle to serve out his sentence, reports emerged that Henry had been attacked by a fellow inmate, who split his skull open with a padlock. The man was a member of the Notorious Numbers gang, an amalgamation of three prison gangs, each with its own role, hierarchy, and brutal initiation rituals.

Whilst the incident was never corroborated by correctional authorities, Henry was inevitably relocated to Leocop Correctional Center in Quateng in January 2022, which he was particularly happy about. Before his assault, he'd requested to be transferred there to be closer to family. Meanwhile, Marley, the true survivor of the Van Breda massacre, was still picking up the pieces of her shattered life.

In the years following the devastating attack that claimed the lives of her parents and brother, Marlee Van Breda demonstrated remarkable resilience. After being hospitalized six weeks and undergoing treatment at a rehabilitation center, she managed to return to school and continue her education. It's reported that she still suffers from retrograde amnesia, leaving her unable to recall the events of that tragic morning.

Though undoubtedly frustrating, some might call it a small mercy amidst a nightmare she will never wake up from. Still, in spite of it all, Marley has focused on rebuilding her life away from the public eye.

she has chosen not to comment on Henry's conviction and sentencing, preserving her privacy with fierce resolve. Whilst we know little about her new life, we know that she continues to heal and move forward, as the man who tried to end it remains shackled to his past. After his relocation, Henry's existence in Leocop's high-security unit became one marked with isolation, monotony, and the weight of his crimes.

His girlfriend, however, never once faltered. Their relationship has endured through court proceedings and incarceration, with Daniella often seen attending his appeal hearings, of which there were many. Henry and his defense team have tried desperately to overturn his conviction over the years. First, they launched an appeal to the Supreme Court of Appeals, which was swiftly dismissed in November 2018.

Undeterred, they took his case to the Constitutional Court, grasping for the mercy he never showed his family. The court inevitably answered in kind. With each rejection, the walls around him seemed to close in as legal avenues were exhausted and no new evidence in his favor surfaced. Today, Henry van Breda remains behind bars, the mask finally lifted from the man who massacred his own family.

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