Uncle Dennis...
.. was the nickname of my grammar school headmaster, as if you were had up before him for wrongdoings, would be kindly and offer you tea, biscuits, and sympathy.

However, during his year sabbatical from the headship, he brutally bludgeoned his wife to death at home with a spanner, then attempted to make it look like a botched burglary knowing full well his teenage kids would be home to discover the body later that day.
Uncle Dennis was nabbed within twelve hours as someone thought it strange that he had come into school especially to visit the incinerator (bloodied clothes), and then the local council rubbish tip (the weapon).
He pleaded guilty within 24 hours of police questioning and was sent down for four and a half years for aggravated manslaughter. This small sentence may or may not have something to do with the fact that he was a justice of the peace, and had been a tennis half blue at Cambridge.

Apparently on release from chokey he married his probation officer, and then lived his last years in Paris.

The fact that no post traumatic disorder counselling, nor real sympathetic explanation, was given to any of us at school (i was 17 at the time), may possibly be the reason that according to the entries for this school on friendsreunited.co.uk, a very large percentage of former students from this period now live overseas.

After Dennis got banged up, his former office became known by us as "The Toolshed".
(Man in Japan, Sun 13 Nov 2005, 4:02, Reply)