🩸 Hours after a steamy hotel hookup, he whispers of “sorting something out” in Liverpool—then unleashes hell on his girlfriend with a knife in a frenzy of 27 slashes. Was it rage-fueled betrayal, or a desperate lie? One man’s double life ends in blood… and a courtroom bombshell. You won’t believe the chilling details unfolding now:

A father-of-two on trial for the brutal stabbing death of his girlfriend made a cryptic comment to a barmaid he’d just slept with about “sorting something out” in Liverpool, hours before allegedly launching a savage knife attack that left the victim with 27 wounds, a court heard this week. Michael Ormandy, 30, faces a single count of murder in the death of 28-year-old Rebekah Campbell, whom prosecutors describe as the victim of a “sustained and violent assault” fueled by a volatile relationship plagued by jealousy and control. The revelation of Ormandy’s alleged infidelity on the very day of the killing—April 15, 2025—has added a layer of sordid drama to the proceedings at Liverpool Crown Court, where jurors are sifting through a timeline of passion, betrayal, and bloodshed.

The attack unfolded in the early hours inside Campbell’s modest flat at Knowsley Heights in Huyton, Merseyside, a working-class suburb east of Liverpool. Emergency services responded to reports of a “domestic incident” around 1:30 a.m., swarming the high-rise block with ambulances and police. Paramedics found Campbell in a pool of her own blood, her body riddled with 18 stab wounds and nine slash injuries, mostly concentrated on the left side—a pattern forensic experts say indicates she desperately tried to fend off her assailant. She was pronounced dead at the scene despite frantic efforts to save her. Ormandy, bloodied and hysterical, was arrested nearby after fleeing the apartment, claiming to officers that he’d acted in “self-defense” after Campbell attacked him first.

Prosecutors, led by Joel Bennathan KC, paint a picture of a man whose temper boiled over in a relationship marked by repeated separations and reconciliations. Campbell, a hairdresser and devoted mother to her young son from a previous relationship, had known Ormandy for years. The couple, both from Huyton, shared two children together—a boy and a girl, now aged 5 and 3—who were mercifully staying with Ormandy’s mother that fateful night. Witnesses described Campbell as bubbly and resilient, often posting selfies from salon shifts on social media, her feed a mix of family outings and cheeky captions about “mum life.” But behind the smiles, friends say, lay a partnership strained by Ormandy’s controlling behavior—accusations of monitoring her phone, explosive rows over her nights out, and at least one prior police callout for domestic disturbance in 2023.

The prosecution’s case hinges on the events of April 15, a Tuesday that began with apparent normalcy and spiraled into tragedy. Ormandy, a self-employed builder with a history of cannabis use and minor brushes with the law, had been staying sporadically at Campbell’s flat after a recent makeup following yet another split. That afternoon, according to phone records and witness statements, he slipped away for a liaison that would later stun the courtroom.

The other woman, a 29-year-old barmaid at a Knowsley pub where Ormandy was a regular, testified via video link on October 7, detailing a rendezvous that prosecutors say exposes Ormandy’s duplicity. The pair met around 4 p.m. at a budget hotel in nearby St. Helens, where they chatted over drinks—she a vodka and orange, he a beer—before having sex. “We’d flirted at the pub before,” she said, her voice steady but eyes averted from the camera. “He showed me a photo of Rebekah earlier that year, said they were on a break. It felt casual.” As they parted around 6 p.m., Ormandy allegedly grew distant, mentioning he was “going to Liverpool to sort something out.” The barmaid, whose identity is protected, recalled him seeming “agitated, like his mind was elsewhere.” She texted him the next morning—”Did you go back?”—but got no reply. Days later, scrolling the Liverpool Echo, she saw Campbell’s face splashed across the front page and “felt sick,” realizing the woman Ormandy had once shown her in a photo was the murder victim.

Bennathan told the jury this encounter wasn’t a one-off; Ormandy had confided in the barmaid about troubles with Campbell, including jealousy over her male colleagues at the salon. “This wasn’t just a fling,” he argued. “It was a man living a double life, resentful of the woman carrying his children while seeking solace—and sex—elsewhere. Hours later, that resentment exploded into lethal violence.” Phone pings place Ormandy back in Huyton by 10 p.m., where he and Campbell argued over dinner—witnesses heard shouting about “lies” and “other women” through thin walls.

The autopsy report, delivered by Home Office pathologist Dr. Jonathan Rogers, makes for grim reading. Campbell suffered a “sustained, violent assault” with a kitchen knife, likely from her own utensil drawer. The 27 incised wounds—deep punctures to the chest, neck, and arms—required “severe force,” Rogers testified. Defensive gashes on her left forearm showed she fought back fiercely, her nails even scraping the attacker’s skin. Toxicology revealed no drugs or excess alcohol in her system; she was, in the doctor’s words, “sober and aware” during the horror. Ormandy, however, tested positive for cannabis metabolites, which defense experts later downplayed as non-impairing.

Ormandy’s account, relayed through police interviews played in court, flips the script. The lanky builder, with tattoos snaking up his arms and a Merseyside accent thickened by nerves, claimed he arrived at the flat around midnight to collect belongings for the kids. “She went mad straight away,” he told detectives, his voice cracking on tape. “Screamed ‘I’ve got a knife!’ and came at me. I panicked, grabbed it off her—self-defense, like.” He admitted to “striking out” twice but insisted the wounds were minimal until Campbell allegedly lunged again. “I blacked out after that,” he said, tears streaming. “Woke up to blood everywhere. Thought I’d killed her by accident.” Jurors watched bodycam footage of his arrest: disheveled, hands raised, babbling about “a row gone wrong.”

The defense, helmed by Nick Johnson KC, argues the prosecution’s narrative ignores context—a toxic cycle where Campbell’s own volatility played a role. Johnson highlighted text messages from months prior showing Campbell accusing Ormandy of cheating, once threatening to “end it all” during a fight. “This was mutual mayhem,” he told the court. “Michael’s no saint, but he’s no murderer. The knife was hers; the rage was shared.” Experts for the defense, including a forensic psychologist, testified Ormandy shows signs of “reactive aggression” from childhood trauma—his own father absent, mum in care homes—not premeditated malice.

As the trial enters its second week, the Huyton community remains divided. Campbell’s family, clustered in the public gallery, wears “Justice for Bekah” pins, her brother Paul wiping tears during the barmaid’s testimony. “She was our fighter,” he told reporters outside. “Planned a family barbecue that weekend. Now we’re burying her memory in this filth.” Ormandy’s ex-partner, mother to his older children, has stayed silent but was seen consoling his mum post-hearing. Social media buzzes with #RebekahCampbell, blending tributes—flowers at the flat’s door—with debates on domestic abuse stats: UK women face a murder risk 20 times higher from partners than strangers, per recent ONS data.

This case echoes broader UK trends, where knife crime claims over 250 lives yearly, many in domestic settings. Merseyside Police’s Operation Empower has ramped up patrols in Huyton since, with Chief Constable Serena Kennedy vowing “no tolerance for coercive control.” Campbell’s salon colleagues launched a fundraiser for women’s shelters, raising £5,000 in days, captioning posts: “Bekah would’ve wanted this—safety for sisters.”

Ormandy, remanded in HMP Liverpool, faces life if convicted. The jury—eight women, four men—must decide if this was cold-blooded murder or a tragic clash. Closing arguments are slated for October 17, Rebekah’s would-be 29th birthday. As one family friend put it, “Love turned lethal here. But truth? That’s the real blade.” For now, in a courtroom thick with unspoken grief, the search for it cuts deepest.