Two very different lives collide, only one goes on

Brett Robinson (left) and Darren Powles, husband of Katie Powles, say they will never understand why Worrell acted the way he did. Photo / Dean Purcell

Tony Worrell woke up on June 3, 2008, not in his own bed but a hospital one. He'd been admitted to Waitakere Hospital four days earlier for overdosing on diazepam and going on a three-day bender.

He was heading home that day and wife of 20 years, Lynette, was picking him up in a couple of hours.

Far on the other side of the Auckland region, Katie Powles was waking to her usual routine. She had breakfast, put the rubbish out and got ready for work without waking husband Darren, who got in late the night before.

When Darren kissed her goodnight the night before he asked her to wake him before she left, but she left him sleeping and set off for work. She could have been feeling anxious about the day ahead, expecting a meeting with her boss at Power Products about her performance review.

Darren woke and realised Katie was gone. He phoned his wife about 9.30am and they spoke about her drive to work and how her day was going.

At midday they spoke again. They discussed what she was having for lunch and what he would cook the two of them for dinner that night.

She told him she would be meeting with her boss for her performance review and expected it would take some time.

About this time, Worrell was arriving back at his Swanson home. He ate lunch with Lynette but she left soon after to go to the first of two appointments.

Once she was gone Worrell wasted no time heading to King Dick's liquor store to buy some bottles of Victoria Bitter beer.

Meanwhile, Katie was texting Darren at 1.25pm to say she was going to be late home from work. About 45 minutes later she called again with good news.

She was happy her performance review had gone well and talked a little about it but said she would tell him more when she got home.

Worrell's afternoon was taking on a familiar pattern. At some point he returned to King Dick's and bought more beer and a bottle of gin and tonic.

He was getting drunker and drunker. By the time Mrs Worrell got home, between 4pm and 5pm, his speech was slurred and he was visibly drunk.

They argued and she told him she'd had enough. She wanted him to leave and gave him a deadline of the end of the week.

But he decided to leave straight away, packing his bags and loading up his Nissan Bluebird. Mrs Worrell told him he was in no state to drive but he simply shrugged his shoulders and left, telling her she was better off without him.

Fifteen minutes later he phoned her. Again, he was in King Dick's. He told her he was looking for a big semi. She was confused at first but soon realised he meant a semi-trailer. He then hung up.

Just after 6.30pm he filled up with petrol at a Caltex service station, alarming staff with his antics and smelling of alcohol. Shortly after, outside the Karaka Hall, a man came across him sitting in his car, "ranting and raving". He'd parked in the middle of the road, causing a truck to cross into the wrong side of the road to avoid him.

He said Worrell reeked of alcohol and sped off with the words, "I'm going to f**k someone up".

By this time Mrs Powles was finally on her way home. It was unusual for her to work so late, normally finishing work at 5pm and arriving home an hour later.

She didn't usually go home via Linwood Rd. It was a route she took in the mornings but she usually came home a different way.

At 7pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays she would go to tae kwon do lessons so her later day meant she would miss her class.

But there was another reason. Hurtling down Linwood Rd - open beer can between his legs - Worrell was driving on the wrong side of the road at speeds estimated to be as high as 125km/h.

Four cars were forced to take evasive action to avoid him, swerving out of the way just in time.

The near-misses had no effect on him, however, and he didn't deviate from his course.

At 7.10pm Brett Robinson was driving his sons home from soccer when he looked up and saw Worrell's headlights. They collided, Mr Robinson's Fiat Uno rolling on to its side with only seatbelts saving him and his boys from death.

Twenty-two metres later, Worrell ploughed into Katie's red Mazda 323 head-on. Crash investigators said Worrell did nothing to brake or avoid the car and she could do nothing to get out of his way.

Their collision wasn't just about metal on metal - it was a collision of two people who couldn't be more different.

Worrell's life had been threatening to spiral completely out of control for at least 11 months before he murdered Katie.

An alcoholic who suffered from bouts of depression, his episodes of self-harm began by taking overdoses of insulin, cutting his wrists with a kitchen knife and consuming potentially deadly combinations of alcohol and prescription drugs.

Whether they were serious attempts or merely cries for help was a contentious part of his trial, but the jury clearly believed that on June 3, 2008, on Karaka's Linwood Rd, he finally made the decision to die.

Katie was, by all accounts, a lover of life. She'd married her long-time partner Darren less than four months earlier after an eight-year romance.

Healthy and active, she had everything to look forward to - instead she was murdered in a car crash she had no chance of surviving and did nothing to deserve.