‘The lad?’
‘Young Jimmy Clark.’
‘Can you explain the circumstances?’
‘Circumstances?’
‘Yes, where you were and what you saw?’
‘I don’t know why he was beaten up. It happened about a month before the fire. We was in the back of the house, upstairs. I was helping Jimmy to make a kite when he looked out the window. “Uncle Jack, look!” he shouts. I go to the window and there’s Lenny Green and these two men in the backyard. One’s looking and t’other – a real big bloke – is standing over him and Lenny is on his knees in front of the first bloke – who looks like a toff, good suit and all, and he’s begging him not to hurt him, sobbing like, and clutching his shiny shoes. But the bloke just looks down at him with this sort of smile on his face. He’s got his hands in his trouser pockets like he’s jingling change, then he nods to the big bloke who starts walloping the bejesus out of Lenny. He’s using a pick handle and I think he’s gunna kill him. But then Lenny collapses like and I reckon he’s unconscious, because the big bloke kicks him in the ribs maybe three times and he don’t move. Then he grabs him by the collar and drags him through the paspalum and the weeds into a big clump of blackberries that grows against the back fence.’
‘And the second man, can you tell me how he was reacting to Mr Green being beaten?’ Danny asked.
‘Well, he didn’t shout out or nothing like that, if that’s what you mean. He just watched,’ Jack Medlow replied.
‘Can you tell the court what happened next, Mr Medlow?’
‘Nothin’. They left. We heard the car but we didn’t see it – we were in the back of the house, like I said. The boy was very upset and he wanted to run down and help Lenny Green. But I told him we couldn’t get involved. It weren’t nothing to do with us. I told him Lenny probably had it coming to him. But you know how it is with them kids when they, yer know, ’aven’t got all their marbles; they don’t see the harm in anyone. So the lad don’t take no notice of me and he runs downstairs and the back door is open and he goes out to help Lenny, who hasn’t moved in the blackberries. So I go down and together we carry him into the house. He’s bleeding something terrible and I reckon we’re gunna have to call an ambulance. I send the lad to fetch the kitchen workers but they don’t want nothing to do with it. Then Lenny comes to and we take him to his room out front next to the office and he says not to call nobody – he can take care of himself.’
‘Mr Medlow, do you recognise anyone in this courtroom who may have been one of the men present in the backyard?
‘Yes, sir, Mr Dunn.’ The old bloke turned and pointed at Riley. ‘He were the one that stood and watched with his hands in his pockets.’
Danny turned to Harry Prout. ‘Your Worship, I wish this court to record that the witness pointed to Mr Riley.’ He turned back to Jack Medlow. ‘Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Medlow. I have no more questions.’
The court had come alive as the coroner turned to Steel Hammer. ‘Do you have any questions for this witness, Mr Hammer?’
Hammer rose, pushing out his gut and his chin, his right-hand thumb hooked into the waistband of his trousers. He stood silent for a moment and glared at Jack Medlow, then barked, ‘Mr Medlow, you constantly referred to . . .’ he glanced down at his notes, ‘let me see, yes . . . the young lad, Jimmy Clark, Jimmy, the boy, and then someone who, I quote, “yer know, ’asn’t got all their marbles”. What did you mean by that?’
‘Jimmy Clark has Down Syndrome, sir.’
‘And how old is Jimmy Clark?’
‘Fifteen.’
‘And, as you put it, he hasn’t got all his marbles. You mean he is mentally retarded, is that right?’
‘Yes, but —’
‘Thank you, Mr Medlow. I don’t require any more explanation. What is your age, sir?’
‘Seventy-nine.’
‘Mr Medlow, how good is your eyesight?’
‘It’s real good now.’
‘Oh, how so?’
‘Well, sir, I had two cataracts removed and now I can see good as new.’
‘Mr Medlow, how far do you estimate the distance was from the upstairs window to where these two men were alleged to be in the backyard?’
Jack Medlow seemed to be thinking for some time.
‘Come now, Mr Medlow, did you not say it was the boy who was mentally retarded?’ Hammer barked.
A murmur of protest rose from the gallery. ‘Counsel will withdraw that inference,’ the coroner said. ‘It will be struck from the record.’
‘Certainly, Your Worship. I withdraw the inference.’
‘Forty feet for the bloke with the pick-axe handle, forty-one feet for Lenny.’ He pointed at Riley. ‘Forty-two feet for jingle balls!’ Jack Medlow said. ‘Yeah, I reckon that’s it.’
The old man’s certainty and irreverence brought another roar of laughter from the gallery and Harry Prout brought down his gavel repeatedly. ‘This court will come to silence!’ he demanded.
Hammer had met his match. ‘Your Worship, both the testimony against and the identification of my client have come from a near-octogenarian who has had recent surgery to both his eyes and who claims to have acted in cooperation with a mentally retarded fifteen-year-old boy. I submit that his statement should not be admitted as evidence.’
Danny jumped to his feet. ‘Objection, Your Worship. While Jimmy Clark is too young to appear as a witness,’ he turned briefly to Franz, who handed him two sheets of paper, ‘I submit for the court record a certificate from a leading psychiatric doctor that states that Jimmy Clark is perfectly capable of acting in a rational and responsible manner and has the mental age of an eleven-year-old. Furthermore, I have here the results of a recent eye test which indicates that Mr Medlow has excellent long-distance vision.’ Danny handed the two certificates to the clerk of the court.
‘Objection sustained. Thank you, Mr Dunn.’ The coroner turned to Steel Hammer. ‘I must remind you, Mr Hammer, that it is my responsibility to decide what evidence is acceptable to this court and what is not. There is no jury to influence here and, I assure you, I am not easily intimidated. You may continue.’
‘I have no more questions at this point, Your Worship.’
Harry Prout, still bristling with annoyance, glared at Hammer. ‘You do not make yourself clear, Mr Hammer. Do you wish the court to dismiss this witness or retain him for later questioning?’
‘I have no more questions for this witness, Your Worship,’ Hammer said, his features turning a deeper shade of crimson. It was clear his easy day at the office was beginning to turn decidedly sour.
Danny rose. ‘I request permission to call Mr Robert James as an expert witness in relation to the true cause of the fire.’
‘Permission granted, Mr Dunn.’
‘Objection, Your Worship,’ Hammer barked. ‘We already have expert testimony from the New South Wales Fire Brigade as to the most likely cause of the fire.’
‘No, Mr Hammer, your objection is overruled. Mr James has appeared before me on several occasions and I have consistently found his testimony to be cogent. I should remind you that eight people have died and it is my responsibility to investigate the cause of those deaths, and make recommendations to the attorney-general as to whether anyone should be charged with any relevant offences. You may proceed, Mr Dunn.’
‘Mr James, as a freelance loss adjuster, have you appeared for several major insurance companies?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘What, in your opinion, was the source of the fire and where did it start?’
‘From the intensity of the damage in the kitchen area compared to the remainder of the back of the house, it almost certainly started in the kitchen. The ignition site was either the electric stove or the electric water heater. I believe a short circuit in one of these two appliances melted the insulation, isolating the 415
-volt circuits leading to the kitchen.’
‘Mr James, surely when a short circuit occurs, the fuse terminals contained in a normal domestic fuse box are designed to burn out, cutting the flow of current before a fire can occur?’
‘Correct. But in this case, the fuse terminals in both fuse boxes – the 220 volt and 415 volt – had been bridged with heavy copper wire.’
‘Ah, Mr Green’s reference to copper wire,’ Danny noted.
James continued. ‘The current would not cut out, as would be normal in the event of a short circuit in the system, but would continue to flow, overheating and eventually burning the insulation material protecting the circuits and causing the area around the wires to burst into flames.’
‘Can you explain to the court why the fuse boxes were not destroyed completely?’ Danny asked.
‘Yes, sir. The materials supporting the fuses are fire resistant and I was able to photograph the fuse box the following morning to show the partly melted copper-wire bridge in both fuse boxes.’
‘Your Worship, I wish to submit these photographs supporting Mr James’s evidence. We are most fortunate that the fire brigade arrived so promptly and that the front section and hallway weren’t destroyed.’
Danny turned back to his witness. ‘Mr James, I ask you, is such bridging of fuses normal or acceptable practice?’
‘No, sir, it is not only dangerous but also illegal. It would render any insurance cover void.’
‘Why, in your opinion, would anyone resort to such a criminally stupid act?’
James, his face serious, replied, ‘The cost of wiring premises such as this, with all the modifications to the rooms and the redistribution of electrical current, would be very expensive, sir. By bridging the fuses with copper wire they would be attempting to avoid fuses blowing, which would otherwise have led to the need for expensive rewiring.’
‘Mr James, did you see any evidence supporting the previous testimony that the fire was probably started by someone smoking in bed?’
James paused, an old hand in the witness box. ‘In this instance I could find no evidence that the fire started in this manner or, for that matter, that it started in any of the cubicles . . . er, bedrooms. The original short almost certainly occurred in the kitchen area in one of two appliances requiring 415 volts.’
‘Objection, Your Worship,’ Hammer cried, jumping to his feet. ‘The kitchen was entirely destroyed. How can the witness maintain with absolute certainty that a 415-volt short started the fire and not someone, as previous experts have attested, upstairs with a lighted cigarette left to burn after they fell asleep?’
‘Your worship, before you rule on my learned friend’s objection I believe we can offer further proof,’ Danny said hurriedly.
‘Very well, Mr Dunn.’
‘How can you be certain the fire started from a 415-volt short in one of two kitchen appliances requiring such voltage, Mr James?’ Danny asked.
‘The victim discovered in the hallway proves this conclusively, Mr Dunn. Unfortunately the body – all the bodies were removed illegally before photographs of them could be taken on the site. But I have closely examined the photographs taken in the morgue, as well as those taken by your associate, Mr Landsman.’
‘Your Worship, I now tender these photographs. All have been certified by the forensic pathologist examining the bodies and carry his signature.’ Franz rose and handed the photographs to the clerk. Danny turned back to James. ‘Please continue, Mr James.’
‘Well, sir, as you would know, a 240-volt shock is nasty and in some circumstances can kill a person, but a 415-volt shock will cause devastating burns and is far more likely to cause death.
‘The photograph shows that the right hand and arm of the deceased found in the hallway beside the meter board is charred to the bone, and remarkably the handle of the brass switch knife is still fused to the remains of the fingers of his right hand. It indicates that he was attempting to turn off the power by pulling the brass switch knife downwards, but with the insulation melted around the knife he was, in effect, grasping a bare, electrically alive piece of red-hot metal. I believe he would have died instantly.’
‘Can you venture an opinion about why the deceased would have done such a thing?’
For once James looked surprised. ‘Why, to cut the current, to prevent the fire, sir.’
Danny, anticipating an objection, cut in quickly. ‘But you said the knife handle was red hot. Would he not have seen this?’
‘The hallway would have been filled with smoke. It is entirely possible that, acting in an emergency, he would not have been aware of the condition of the knife switch.’
Danny expected an immediate objection from Hammer – it was a leading question and James had offered a personal opinion in reply – but to his surprise it didn’t come. At that precise moment he knew he’d won.
‘And, Mr James, could there be any other reason for attempting to throw the switch?’ Danny asked.
‘No, sir, the switch has only one reason to exist, and that’s to shut down the power. It is reasonable to conclude that Mr Laidlaw was attempting to save the lives of the people trapped upstairs and died in the attempt.’
Danny glanced up into the gallery to see Helen with her arms around Bullnose, who was weeping for his old mate. He could also see the expression of intense pride on his wife’s pretty face.
Harry Prout was regarded by his younger associates as an old-school magistrate, sliding unnoticed towards the end of his forty years on the bench. He was neither brilliant nor dull, notorious nor outstanding. He had done his job and, although wiser, was going to leave it as honest and straightforward as he had been on his first day on the bench. He had made mistakes, some poor judgments, but they were all his own doing. He had never succumbed to pressure or coercion, and his honesty was as plain and unambiguous as he was himself.
When Green’s evidence damning Riley emerged, Prout immediately saw that he was dealing with more than simply a corrupt man with a predilection for perversions that were almost beyond his comprehension as a Presbyterian elder. He saw clearly that he was dealing with larger and systemic corruption that might exist within a municipal council aided and abetted by the police force, the housing commission and therefore the state government. But it was not his job to follow up on this, other than to recommend that the attorney-general’s department pursue the issue. He had merely to decide whether Riley had knowingly neglected to ensure the safety of the people in the boarding house and consequently whether he faced the possibility of a charge of manslaughter or even murder.
Almost from the moment Harry Prout began his summing up, aided by a surprisingly animated Ray Onions, Danny knew it spelt disaster for Riley and his Double Bay Syndicate.
‘I find the eight deceased victims perished because of an electrical fire resulting from wilfully neglectful conduct on the part of the owners of the premises. Their actions were carried out with a knowing and callous disregard for the consequences. I also recommend that the attorney-general investigate whether the owners of the property were aided and abetted by the failure of council staff, and other government bodies responsible for the safety of tenants, to carry out their duties. I would anticipate strong public interest in this matter, relating as it does to the safety of our citizens.
‘I am, in particular, concerned with what appears to be a blatant attempt by Mr Gareth Lachlan Riley to coerce witnesses appearing at this inquest into giving false evidence to protect himself and others. Other parties who should be investigated include Leonard Arthur Green, Sergeant James Patrick White, Mr David Seamus Docker, Mr Garry Wilfred Griffin, and the directors of the Double Bay Syndicate. All have played a part in these tragic events or in this inquiry, and the evidence they have tendered on behalf of the defendant has proved to be of doubtful veracity. I venture to say there may be others whose names have not appeared in this hearing, all of whom may
have shown a contempt for the rules and regulations protecting the citizens of this state, who may have to answer to the attorney-general’s department.
‘I also wish to comment on the apparent lack of diligence on the part of the police responsible for investigating this tragic affair and their failure to carry out a full and proper investigation of the fire, in particular, their insistence, against all precedent, that the bodies of the deceased be removed before a proper on-site forensic examination.
‘Finally, the conduct of Mr Daniel Corrib Dunn, representing one of the surviving victims, has been exemplary and I wish to thank him for the service he has rendered to this coronial inquest on behalf of his client. I wish him and his client and all the victims of this tragic event well in any subsequent actions they may take to pursue damages for the pain, loss and suffering they may have experienced.’
The reporters rushed for the exit. Here was a story they’d been waiting for, a real story that had legs, one they suspected could lead them up the rungs to the very top of the political ladder. Everyone knew that the government was on the nose and that all and sundry were taking bribes. The trick was to prove it. When business and government collude it is extremely difficult to obtain proof of such collusion. It took a case such as this one to wedge the door open a fraction. No government could ignore the findings of the chief coroner, and the attorney-general would have no way of preventing Riley from standing trial for, at the least, a manslaughter charge. Any attempt to do so would indicate clearly that the state government was up to its neck in corruption. Thanks to the separation of powers, once someone was within the court system the government was no longer in control. The justice system was flawed, but it wasn’t corrupt and couldn’t be manipulated. They had no choice – Riley had to be sacrificed.
While previous cases had achieved notoriety for Nifty Dunn, this one had all the trimmings required for a media bonanza. There were questions in the house and for once the opposition had a field day, in fact a week where, for the first time in years, they had Labor, if not on the canvas, certainly in a corner, covering up while trying to recover from wobbly knees. The coroner’s inquiry was the preliminary bout, but everyone knew Riley’s trail would be the big stoush.
The Story of Danny Dunn Page 45
