Anni dewani why was she murdered

I hope he did not stay in the same hotel - but I would not put anything past him. We simply don't know. On the first day of his Cape Town trial, Dewani revealed he had been visiting gay prostitutes and was bisexual.

But later it was revealed that he had been paying a male prostitute known as the "German Master" for sex. Leopold Leisser, was found hanged in September at his Birmingham home in what was believed to have been a suicide.

Anni, a Swedish-raised engineer was just 28 when she was shot dead as the couple toured Cape Town on November 13, They claimed Dewani arranged the hijacking in which he would survive and his wife would be killed, which he also strenuously denied.

We pay for your stories! Today Anni's family held a memorial service to mark her murder 10 years ago. Her eldest sister Ami above said: 'What happened to Anni was not right and not fair. She should have been enjoying her life, but her destiny was something different. Anni's father Vinod right and mother Nilam were at the memorial near their home in Mariestad, Sweden, to place roses in a lake where her ashes were scattered.

Vinod has called on Mr Dewani to give them answers to their questions about her death. It came as Anni's family gathered near their home in Mariestad, Sweden, to mark the anniversary of her brutal honeymoon murder.

Her eldest sister Ami Denborg, fought back tears and said: 'What happened to Anni was not right and not fair. She was a very special person and her passing has left an empty space in all of our hearts. Anni's father today appealed to her husband to break his self-imposed silence and give her family answers to their questions about the events surrounding her killing in Cape Town in Vinod Hindocha told MailOnline his family had suffered from the moment news of Anni's murder reached them 'and that our suffering goes on every minute of every day.

Mr Dewani, 40, wore gym kit and carried a cat in a bag as he declined to comment on the anniversary at his London home. The Swedish businessman said his family remained traumatised by a South African judge's decision to abandon the trial of millionaire Dewani, who was accused of her murder. Dewani, who was later revealed to have led a secret gay life with male prostitutes, was cleared of the charge after the trial collapsed.

The judge decided he had no case to answer. But three other men were convicted of murder. Her family say Dewani has not contacted them or made any attempt to help them through their grief. Anni, 28, was killed in the back of a taxi while on honeymoon with her new husband in Gugulethu township, near Cape Town on November 13 Two days before his court appearance, Tongo and his attorney had struck a deal with the provincial government: Tongo would plead guilty to murder, aggravated robbery, and kidnapping, and agree to testify against all other participants in the murder.

In exchange, he would receive a sentence of 18 years in prison, with the possibility of parole after The typical sentence for such a crime in South Africa is life imprisonment without parole.

As de Kock read the details of the murder plot, murmurs of surprise and shock reverberated through the gallery. About six hours later, a magistrate in Britain issued a warrant ordering Shrien Dewani taken into custody on suspicion of conspiring to murder his wife.

Shrien Dewani surrendered at the Southmead police station in Bristol at p. The next morning, at the High Court in Westminster, he appeared dazed and exhausted, glassy-eyed, as he stood at the bar beside his attorney.

He surrendered his passport, had an electronic bracelet attached to his ankle, and retreated to his family home in the Bristol suburb of Westbury-on-Trym. His sense of betrayal had deepened during his most recent trip to Cape Town.

The three investigators had pointed out the sandy side street where Shrien had been ejected from the minivan. From there, Vinod counted the seconds until they reached the spot where the hijacker had fired the shot that killed his daughter. Anni, he realized, had spent three minutes alone, desperate, begging for her life. While Shrien holed up at the Dewani estate, the evidence substantiating the claims against him kept piling up in Cape Town.

The South African police said they had recovered phone records indicating that text messages had indeed passed between Zola Tongo and Shrien while they were on the highway.

Perhaps the most incriminating element in the case against Shrien was the assertion by South African police that Anni had not been raped. What reason, then, would the gunmen have had to separate the couple, other than premeditated murder? The only thing missing, it seemed, was a motive. There had been no insurance policy, no will, nothing to suggest that Shrien had been interested in financial gain. Almost everybody who knew the couple talked about their deep affection for each other; no one had seen signs of discontent on his part.

Shrien denied knowing Leisser and threatened to sue him and the Sun for defamation. And it was true that a leather daddy who had emerged out of nowhere to extract a payday from a tabloid made for a less than credible figure. A few weeks later, however, a year-old political aide in Parliament paid a visit to British investigators working on the case and told them that he, too, had had several sexual encounters with Shrien.

The rendezvous point, the aide said, was a gay fetish club in London called the Hoist. Nobody in Britain would have mistaken the Star or the Sun —with their topless model photos and soap-opera gossip—for a reputable source, but soon the story was given credence by more respected British newspapers, including the Guardian.

In their view, he was terrified by the possibility of being exposed as a homosexual and of the scandal that might ensue. She and other family members argue that a failed marriage, following his earlier broken engagement, could well have destroyed his reputation within the close-knit, deeply conservative British-Indian elite.

Maybe Shrien, they supposed, panicking and desperate to preserve appearances, decided to kill Anni rather than face the humiliation of a divorce. Shrien could not have it come out openly that he was gay. There were also unrelated incidents that, in retrospect, appeared ominous. Ami described to me a phone call she had received from Anni three weeks before the wedding. Anni, in tears, told her she wanted to call off the ceremony.

She was sick of how Shrien berated her about petty things: not folding dirty clothes before tossing them into the laundry basket, eating ice cream and other sweets, leaving her belongings scattered about the room. But Ami would remember the advice she had given her sister.

He spotted Shrien Dewani, who was standing in the middle of a group of well-dressed Indian men and women, and introduced himself as a journalist. Newling was 34 years old, a tall, good-looking Englishman whose disarmingly laid-back manner belied his tenacity as a reporter. He had spent seven years in London working for the Daily Mail, covering foreign news and working on long-term investigations.

Earlier that year, his wife, a physician, had taken a job in Cape Town, and Newling quit the Daily Mail and followed her. The expatriate life agreed with him, and he had cobbled together some freelance work for the Daily Mail, the Telegraph, and half a dozen other British papers.

Newling had as much of an appetite as the next tabloid reporter for a good crime yarn, but he also had a sharply analytical mind. He had immense bags under his eyes. Newling told him he looked exhausted. Shrien replied that he had barely slept since the night before the murder; he had been awake for three days.

For the next 45 minutes, he took Newling—the first reporter he had spoken to—step-by-step through what had happened on Saturday night. He was polite and well-spoken in spite of his visible distress. It had not occurred to him that Shrien might be anything other than a victim. Four days later, Bheki Cele, the national police commissioner, called a press conference in a community hall in Gugulethu township to discuss the case.

The commissioner, a large, bullet-headed man known for his shoot-from-the-hip style, glared at him. Newling had grown up in South London. Brixton was a bit rough, he knew, but hardly comparable to the township where the Dewanis had been hijacked. There is something funny here, he thought as he left the community hall. As the case lurched through its bizarre twists and turns in the weeks that followed, Newling dutifully reported them, but the whole affair still seemed fishy to him.

The South African police were haunted by the legacy of the apartheid years, when ill-trained cops carried out extrajudicial killings and used torture and planted evidence to win convictions.

The police were also legendarily corrupt. Shortly after Shrien was granted bail in London, Cele, speaking at a police ceremony in the northern province of Limpopo, was asked again about the case. The following October, Zuma fired Cele for conflict of interest and corruption relating to the leasing of police-owned buildings to a business tycoon. Several other details had started to bother Newling.

How plausible was it, really, that two strangers had arranged a murder-for-hire during a brief conversation after a ride in from the airport? Similarly skeptical reporters for the West Cape News had tried to find out firsthand how easy it would be to do what Shrien had allegedly done. Using underworld contacts, they found three young men willing to carry out a hit for between 5, and 15, rand—but all three said that the killing would take days, maybe even weeks, to organize.

There was also the matter of the accomplice. Tongo had no criminal record, and there was nothing in his background to suggest that he would jump at the opportunity to play assistant hit man.

Even if he had, it seemed to stretch credulity that Tongo would have considered the plot to be worth it. His salary at the tour company where he worked was 5, rand a month plus tips, and he made another 2, a month freelancing on the side. If not rape, what other reason than premeditated murder would the attackers have had to separate the couple?

Newling puzzled over that question. Then, one morning in early February, he decided to take a drive. The more prosperous sections of the neighborhood are sealed off by high cement walls topped by barbed wire. Piles of trash line the roadside and collect in the weedy vacant lots between the houses. When he got to a house feet from the spot where the Volkswagen had been abandoned, a young woman answered the door. Yes, she said, she remembered the incident vividly.

Sometime between 7 and 8 a. She arrived on the scene just in time to see a police officer open the rear side door of the minivan. I could see that her dress was pulled up to her waist and that her underwear was below her knees.

Newling asked her whether she believed that Anni had been raped. But she had definitely been attacked. That I am sure about. They arrested the wrong people.

On February 20, an ambulance was called to the house at Westbury-on-Trym. Shrien had taken an overdose of sleeping medication and was in serious condition. Shrien was diagnosed with severe depression and post-traumatic stress disorder, and committed to the Priory Hospital in London, a mental health and addiction rehabilitation facility popular with British celebrities. It was different from his earlier stories, this time written in the first person and betraying a barely concealed sense of outrage.

We were both headstrong and often argued with each other. On the night of Saturday November 13, , the couple went for dinner and then got into a taxi driven by Zola Tongo. After raising the alarm he was taken to a police station where he got a call from his brother saying Anni had been shot dead.

Her husband Shrien stood trial in the country, facing charges of organising a contract killing on her. Taxi driver Zola Tongo claimed, along with two other men, that Shrien had recruited him to help kill his wife. But the judge in the case said the men were lying and threw the case out, clearing Shrien of any wrongdoing.