Cyanide Games: A Peter Tanner Thriller

by Richard Beasley

  He paused again, deliberately. Addresses to juries could not be rushed. You want them to absorb each point before moving to the next. Fast-talking lawyers persuade no one.

  ‘That’s a big responsibility. There’s another one, though. Equally important, and the burden falls to you. It’s the duty to allocate responsibilty to the right person. That’s the most fundamental reason for you being here. And here also, members of the jury, is another family. They’re sitting behind me. The Matheson family. Justin’s mother and father, his sister and brother, and his wife, Sarah. Scattered around the courtroom are members of his wider family, his friends and colleagues. All of them share something in common with Elena’s family. They want the person responsible for her killing brought to justice. He waited again for just a moment, scanning the faces of the jurors.

  ‘My job is to tell you that Justin Matheson is not the person responsible for the death of Elena Mancini.’ He paused again, hoping it would add weight to what was the defence’s definitive statement.

  ‘You may have heard, perhaps from television shows, or even from a novel, that defence lawyers prefer not to call their clients to give evidence. If you can throw enough doubt on the prosecution case, so the theory goes, don’t call the accused. Well, members of the jury, you will be hearing from my client in this trial. He’ll tell his story. And what he will tell you is what I have. He did not hurt Elena Mancini. He did not struggle with her. He did not throw her to the ground. He is not her killer. He,’ Tanner repeated slowly, ‘is not her killer.’

  It was harder to decide what not to say. If Matheson was not the killer, the jury might expect him to say who was, even if the list of candidates was obviously a short one. And declaring John Richter the killer carried its own risks. The main risk was of shifting the burden. No matter what he told the jury about reasonable doubt, and no matter how strongly the judge reinforced it, he couldn’t risk them convicting Matheson because he didn’t prove John Richter was the real killer. And he knew that the prosecution’s subliminal message would be this: If the defence attacks our witness but doesn’t prove it was him, then it has to be the accused. Tanner had thought about it on a daily basis for weeks. Saying less in opening was better. Even if that meant not mentioning the elephant in the room.

  The DNA was different. You can’t ignore the prosecution’s best point. ‘Mr Aitken, the Crown Prosecutor, made mention of the DNA evidence he intends to call. And it’s true – Justin’s DNA was found under Elena’s nails. He also mentioned the scratch on my client’s chest. We won’t be disputing that either. What we will contest is how they got there. There’s more than one way that could have happened. All we ask of you – all Justin asks of you – is that you don’t decide how that happened until you’ve heard all of the evidence. I’ll say it again now, though – it didn’t happen during any struggle between my client and Elena Mancini.’

  Tanner paused, wanting to conclude on a positive point for the defence. ‘You’ll be shown film, as the Crown Prosecutor told you, of my client and Mr Richter leaving the club with Elena Mancini and the witness Klaudia Dabrowska. Miss Dabrowska is apparently going to be giving evidence at this trial – so the Crown tells us – to say she was with Mr Richter when Elena must have been killed.

  ‘I say “apparently”, because Miss Dabrowska wasn’t available to give evidence at the committal hearing for my client. So when you meet her, you’ll be like me – meeting her for the first time. And if she tells you she was with Mr Richter when they went back to his home, and not with Justin, you’ll be meeting someone who is not telling the truth. And when you conclude she’s not, you’ll conclude something about my client, Justin Matheson. That he is not guilty of the crimes he’s been charged with.’

  45

  Detective Senior Sergeant Garry Heffron had been a cop for nearly twenty-five years. Fifteen of those had been in homicide, and he’d been around the block a few times in murder trials. If you were a prosecutor, he was a good witness. He made concessions when he had to, but also held the line without losing his cool.

  Aitken led him through his evidence, but didn’t have to work hard. Heffron was a natural storyteller, able to break up the police investigation into easily digestible chunks for the jury. He’d been called in the early hours of 9th October the previous year by a more junior detective, and then gone to the scene. He knew where he was headed. The Richters were hardly anonymous members of Sydney society. Justin Matheson was awake but barely lucid by the time he arrived. Another detective told him Matheson had been roused when the ambulance officers arrived.

  Through Heffron, all photos and video of the crime scene were admitted into evidence, and once again the jury was shown Elena’s dead body. This time there was video, narrated by a police officer who walked through the rooms of the Retreat. There was a long interruption during this evidence, as Elena’s mother collapsed, before being physically ill on the floor. A fifteen-minute adjournment followed. As they walked out, Tanner saw that three of the jurors were also nearly overwhelmed by emotion.

  When Heffron’s evidence got under way again, he told the court he’d been the senior officer at the main police interviews of Justin Matheson, John Richter, Klaudia Dabrowska, and the driver, Mario Gomez. Other detectives in the homicide squad had been delegated to interview witnesses from the Pantheon Club, the Olympus entertainment and hospitality complex, and on background matters. CCTV film of Matheson and Richter entering the club, and leaving with Elena Mancini and Klaudia Dabrowska, was shown. Some of that film was consistent with what Matheson had told police. It included Klaudia kissing Matheson in Richter’s car while they waited to leave.

  The video of Matheson’s police interview was played. Even though it had been conducted after he’d sobered up, he looked wasted: his hair was unruly, he hadn’t shaved, and he appeared exhausted. It was prejudicial, but there was nothing Tanner could do about it. The interview had been voluntary, and Matheson’s then lawyer was there to hold his hand.

  The upside to Matheson’s police interview was its consistency with his current story. He’d drunk too much all day. Richter had offered the coke. He’d gone into a bedroom with Klaudia. They’d left Richter and Elena in the lounge room. He had sex with Klaudia, then fell asleep. When he was next conscious, and had managed to stand, he saw an ambulance officer kneeling beside Elena’s body. He didn’t know what the marks were on his chest, or how they got there. When it came time for Matheson to give his version of events in the defence case, Tanner was at least confident his evidence in chief would line up with his police interview.

  John Richter had told the police a very different story. He said that Matheson had brought the cocaine. When Klaudia wanted to go home, Richter’s story was that he’d called his driver, who then drove them to her flat. He went in, and they talked for a while. Mario then drove him home. When he arrived back at the Retreat, he found Elena lying on the floor of the lounge. Then he saw the blood. He checked her pulse by putting his fingers on her neck. He called an ambulance and with the same call sought the police. At least unlike at the committal hearing, this version of events would have to be told to the jury by Richter himself. It couldn’t come in the form of a statement, and it couldn’t come from the mouth of Heffron.

  Heffron told the jury that he’d also been the senior officer at the interview with Klaudia Dabrowska the day following the interviews with Matheson and Richter. Her police record of interview was consistent with John Richter’s. The cocaine was Matheson’s. She’d talked to Richter in his study. He was upset about his wife. When she asked to go home, Richter said he’d take her. Matheson and Elena were still in the lounge when they left. She asked Elena if she wanted to go, but Matheson insisted she stay.

  All through the evidence he gave concerning the police investigation, Heffron sometimes looked at Aitken, sometimes the judge if he asked a question, and at other times he directed himself to the jury. He was like a television veteran who always looked at the right camera. His voice was low, cal
m and polished.

  Tanner couldn’t let Heffron walk from the box completely unchallenged – that would look like surrender. He had to be brief, though; there was no way of winning the trial here. Too many questions, or the wrong ones, could reveal more than he wanted to. His only aim was to hint that there was more to this story than the jury had heard so far.

  ‘How long had Mr Matheson been in custody before he was interviewed, detective?’ Tanner began.

  ‘As I told the prosecutor, we had to wait until he’d recovered from his intoxication. We applied for an extended detention warrant. It was about twelve hours.’

  ‘Had he slept?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘That wasn’t reported to you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Mr Matheson indicated a willingness to be interviewed by you, correct?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And, despite the varied questioning about what occurred on the night of 8 October and the morning of the ninth, he gave police a consistent history?’

  ‘He said he didn’t know what had happened to Elena.’

  ‘His story never wavered, though, regarding anything, did it? No part of it has changed?’

  ‘No part has changed to any significant degree. He had difficulty remembering some aspects of what he’d done the night before.’

  ‘He had no memory of killing Elena Mancini, correct?’

  ‘That’s what he told us.’

  ‘He’s always maintained that he didn’t hurt her?’

  ‘That’s his story. It’s not consistent with the evidence.’

  Tanner could have sought to have the last answer struck out, but decided to use it instead. ‘Really? That’s not quite true, is it?’

  Heffron paused, immediately recognising he may have to qualify what he’d just said. ‘It’s not consistent with the DNA evidence, or the witness statements we took from Mr Richter, Mr Gomez, Miss –’

  ‘Hang on, detective, you don’t get to tell the story twice.’

  ‘I object, your Honour,’ Aitken said. ‘The witness is merely answering the question.’

  ‘If you’re referring to the video and film, then –’

  ‘Just a moment, detective,’ the judge said. ‘I think Mr Aitken is correct. You were interrupted mid-stream.’

  ‘I was just saying that Mr Matheson’s version of events to us was not consistent with all of the witness statements we took.’

  ‘You just mentioned the film, detective, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, and I was –’

  ‘That CCTV film is consistent with what Mr Matheson told you, isn’t it?’

  ‘I object, your Honour. Which part of what Mr Matheson said in his police statement is my friend suggesting?’

  ‘All of it.’

  ‘I can’t agree with that,’ Heffron said.

  ‘It’s consistent with him saying he was with Klaudia all night until he woke up, isn’t it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It shows them – Mr Matheson and Miss Dabrowska – walking through the club holding hands, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It shows her holding his arm, waiting outside of the Olympus complex?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Klaudia kisses my client, doesn’t she?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They’re like lovers, aren’t they?’

  ‘They’re friendly, yes.’

  ‘You know the difference between friends and lovers, don’t you, detective?’

  ‘I object.’

  ‘How long does the kiss last, detective?’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘Yes, how long?’

  ‘I haven’t timed it.’

  ‘Eleven seconds. Do you want to watch again?’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it.’

  ‘That’s a friendly kiss, detective? Eleven seconds?’

  ‘I was being colloquial.’

  ‘Would you mind being accurate instead? It was like a lovers’ kiss?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And that’s consistent with what Mr Matheson told you – that he slept with Miss Dabrowska that night.’

  ‘It’s not what she said. It wasn’t what Mr Richter said. And it’s not what the driver said – about dropping Miss Dabrowska home with Mr Richter.’

  ‘People can lie, can’t they, detective?’

  ‘Is that a serious question?’

  ‘It’s not me being colloquial. They can lie, can’t they?’

  Heffron half-smiled, and shook his head. ‘For some people, Mr Tanner,’ he said, ‘a kiss is a long way from intercourse.’

  ‘What’s on the CCTV footage, detective, is consistent with Justin Matheson’s evidence. Correct?’

  ‘I object,’ Aitken said, rising to his feet. ‘I’ve given my friend plenty of licence to make submissions rather than ask proper questions, but I think he’s reached his threshold.’

  The judge was about to rule, but Heffron’s years of experience allowed him to see an opening. ‘The film is not inconsistent with it, Mr Tanner,’ he said quickly. ‘The DNA evidence is, and so were the scratches on his body.’

  Tanner realised he’d pushed the film far enough, and Heffron was too good a witness to not bat it away. He had to move on. ‘You took a statement from the driver, Mr Gomez, correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How long has he worked for Mr Richter?’

  ‘About ten years, I believe.’

  ‘He drives for Mr Hendrik Richter too, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Sometimes, I believe.’

  ‘Klaudia Dabrowska, you interviewed her?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She shouldn’t have even been in our country that night, let alone at the Richters’ estate?’

  ‘She didn’t have a work visa, no.’

  ‘She got deported?’

  ‘She was cooperating with police on a murder investigation. She was allowed to leave freely.’

  ‘She’s from the UK?’

  ‘London, yes.’

  ‘And what else do you know about her?’

  ‘I’m not sure what you mean?’

  ‘Did you test her for cocaine?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘She said she didn’t have any, and –’

  ‘Mr Matheson said she did.’

  ‘Not until later. We didn’t get to interview her until late on the tenth.’

  ‘What about Mr Richter, was he tested?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We had no reason not to believe him.’

  ‘You mean, apart from all the cocaine in his house?’

  ‘It was on the coffee table, and in your client’s jacket.’

  ‘Mr Richter had a lawyer there, didn’t he? At his home?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘When did the lawyer arrive?’

  ‘He was there when I arrived. Mr Richter said he’d rung him, but only after he’d called the ambulance and the police. That was consistent with his phone records.’

  ‘Did you think it odd he had a lawyer there?’

  ‘No,’ Heffron said. ‘They’re wealthy people. Someone had just died at their home, and there were drugs on the table. It wasn’t unexpected.’

  ‘Just as a matter of interest, detective, can I ask you to look at someone in the courtroom for me?’

  Heffron paused before answering. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Look at Mr Aitken and his junior at the bar table. Then go to the gallery behind them, four rows back. The man on the far left, from where you sit. Blue suit, red tie.’

  ‘Yes, I see him.’

  ‘Is that Mr Carrington, a lawyer from the firm Bloomberg Butler Kelly?’

  ‘I believe that’s his name.’

  ‘And he was the lawyer at Mr Richter’s retreat on the morning you attended the scene?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And Mr Carrington specialises in white collar crime, is that right?’

 
‘I object, your Honour,’ Aitken said loudly, but Heffron answered anyway.

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘I’d ask your Honour to give the jury some instruction about what my friend just said. That question potentially has a negative connotation for Mr Richter, and it should –’

  ‘If my friend’s that excited about it, your Honour,’ Tanner interrupted, ‘I’m quite happy to clarify that I’m not suggesting Mr Carrington has given any advice that I know of to Mr Richter about white collar crime.’

  ‘That’s worse, your Honour,’ Aitken protested.

  ‘I can’t help what area of special expertise Mr Carrington has, your Honour,’ Tanner continued, ‘any more than I can help it that he’s sitting in court. Maybe he just likes watching criminal trials.’

  ‘Mr Tanner!’

  ‘All I was –’

  ‘Mr Tanner! Resume your seat.’ Knight glared at Tanner for as long as he thought it took to indicate extreme displeasure. He then turned to the jury. ‘Members of the jury, you have just heard a rather terse exchange between myself and counsel, and an objection from the Crown Prosecutor concerning what he says are potential prejudicial inferences as a result of questions from Mr Tanner to Detective Heffron concerning a lawyer called Mr John Carrington. You have heard some evidence about Mr Carrington’s presence at Mr Richter’s home on the morning of 9 October last. Those are facts you are entitled to take into account if you think relevant to your deliberations. What you may not do is draw any adverse inference about what Mr Tanner said was Mr Carrington’s area of expertise. That’s not relevant, and not in evidence. Nor is it of any relevance that he’s observing this trial. Now, Mr Tanner?’

  Tanner knew that if he pushed, he risked aggravating the judge more, which the jury wouldn’t like. He’d done the best he could with Heffron. It wasn’t much, but he hadn’t given him a free pass. ‘Nothing further for this witness, your Honour.’