It was the weekend. We all scattered and tried to have a couple of days of normality but it was hard to get off the merry-go-round and be ordinary. I think the boys sought each other’s company and had a rather quiet few days. If they didn’t, they were kind enough not to tell me. I know I went to my cousin’s to sleep as I didn’t want to be alone. Monday morning saw us all back at the Courthouse and into the green room.
It was Detective Fox’s turn in the witness box. I watched and heard him give calm and clear answers to the questions he was asked. He gave details of his investigation into the alleged paedophilia charges and I reflected, not for the first time, how lucky we were to have had this professional man in charge of our son’s painful story. Our friend in the legal fraternity knew Peter Fox was the right man.
We were shown a video interview taken at the time of the priest’s arrest. In the legal argument at the commencement of the trial, the length had been reduced and edited from three hours to about forty five minutes. In the interview, Fletcher said he had never done anything of a sexual nature.
He said “My religious education was if you did sexual things, you died and went to hell. I never did sexual things because of that fear.”
He went on to declare “No one has touched me or sucked my penis or done things of a sexual nature to me. Never.”
I was interested in the interview because I knew that he was not going to take the stand himself and this would be the jury’s only chance to see him declaring his innocence. The jury didn’t know that the Bishop had told him of the allegations eleven months before his arrest and he had used that time to prepare himself for such an interview. They didn’t know that he had asserted that he hardly knew the victim’s family and yet I had photos of him sitting up at my fortieth birthday party, his mother and my mother chatting at home one night and numerous other photos and birthday cards which proved our relationship went further than the one he may have had with a random person who cleaned the church brass. I hoped that his reference to Daniel as Danny at the end of the tape would indicate to the jury members that he had indeed had an association with my son.
Bearing in mind that the original sites of the abuse could have changed significantly in fourteen years, it was suggested that the jury be put in a bus and taken to the sites to see the environments for themselves and to clear up any misunderstandings of just where the trees were that Daniel had described. He had said that Fletcher had driven into Tucker Park at Paterson and parked behind some trees. I believe the jury got the general picture when they were on site.
Later I heard that the Defence were taking photos in Paterson Park from the wrong angle. Luckily they were spotted by Detective Fox who was able to tell them that those photos, if printed, would give an incorrect perspective to the members of the jury. I am sure that the priest’s friends and legal team were indeed grateful to this man as they surely would not want to have misrepresented the evidence.
Throughout the time that I had been allowed to sit in the Courtroom and listen to the witnesses, I was aware of strangers sitting there as well. I wasn’t sure who they were and wondered about their interest in the case. Detective Fox told us that some family members of the one victim who was allowed to testify, were present. He also said that a third victim, whose evidence had been excluded from the trial, was attending.
There were also several people, who were obviously supporting Fletcher, sitting in the court room throughout each day. I say obviously because we all had to share a bathroom and early on after I gave my evidence, I found myself in the toilet area with a tall red-headed stranger whom I had seen at the Newcastle Court sitting with Fletcher’s friends and in the car park of the East Maitland Courthouse. It was a bit awkward and our eye contact was minimal until she knocked me into the wall of the bathroom as she turned around and then whirled out. I was shocked. I came out rubbing my head and explained to the family what had happened. I declined to take any action wanting to believe it was an accident. A good woman of the Church would not stoop so low as to assault the mother of the victim, surely.
When we assembled again in the Courtroom, there was a change in supporters. New faces were there and I noticed a lady who had ‘grieving and distraught mother’ written all over her face. We knew the next witness was another victim of Fletcher’s and he had said that he didn’t mind if we sat in and heard his statement. This was conveyed to us by the DPP liaison officer. Detective Fox had said that we may be upset when we first saw him. I wondered if that was because we may have known him despite what we had been told and that was that we didn’t know him and he did not know us personally.
We sat waiting for him to be called. I watched. The door opened and a young man was escorted into the Courtroom and up to the witness stand. I know my jaw dropped. I felt it. The man on the stand could have been Daniel’s twin. Same height, same good looks and colouring and the same bearing. There was a ripple of movement from the supporters, the jury and the press gallery as people turned to look at Daniel and I know they would have been noting the resemblance between the two victims. Daniel and I exchanged a look of clarity. I know he could see himself up there in that box and this had been what Peter Fox had tried to warn me of.
That brave victim was led through his statements by the Prosecution. It must have been hard for him to say the words with his parents and siblings listening to every word. His evidence was graphic as he told of being a thirteen-year-old altar boy who had twice stayed alone with the priest at his presbytery. He alleged the priest came in to say goodnight to him and had performed oral sex on him. This was repeated about a year later on another visit. He was asked not to tell anyone. The man kept his secret for seventeen years and told no-one until Fletcher had asked a member of his family for a character reference in relation to his defence in my son’s matter. What arrogance on the part of this paedophile!
Ultimately this had prompted this second victim to break his silence. Ian Barker asked him if he had made up the story and he denied doing so. When asked if he would be seeking compensation, this young man replied that it was not his intention to do so. He did not claim Criminal Injuries Compensation, he did not claim compensation from the church and he was not planning to pursue his own allegations. This left the Defence with no motive for this victim’s evidence other than he just wanted to tell the truth. He was a total stranger but a fellow victim of this cruel predator of a priest. We will be grateful to him forever. He left the stand and walked out of the Courtroom.
That was the conclusion of the Crown’s case against Fletcher.
21
There was a very brief recess and then the Defence commenced its case.
The first witness called was the priest’s mother. There were audible exclamations of disbelief from the gallery as she walked in. This poor woman was about eighty-eight years old at that time. My family had felt compassion for her throughout the long months since Daniel approached the police. I know for sure that she loved her son just as I loved mine. The Defence were trying to establish a pattern of behaviour for the priest and I know he did regularly visit his mother on Tuesdays. Some of the abuse occasions were alleged to have happened on his days off which were Tuesdays.
At one stage Mrs Fletcher was asked to leave the witness stand and to wait outside for a few minutes while something was discussed. She tripped as she stepped down and I suppose it was a rather telling moment when Daniel leapt to his feet to aid her. A court officer helped her and escorted her outside. The priest hung his head and I hoped he was suffering. No old lady should be put through that. I have no doubt that they used this poor old woman purely on the basis of a sympathy vote. How cruel.
When she was cross examined by the Prosecution I prayed (funny that) that she would not be upset but I needn’t have worried as the Crown Prosecutor was very gentle with her. Without any goading at all, he led her to admit that
“Jimmy came for lunch and nearly always dinner on Tuesdays” but that was only when she was home and she did agree that she
had some holidays and other engagements. The priest sometimes called in and had a pot luck tea with us after visiting his mother so he certainly didn’t dine there every week.
Fletcher’s very good friend and the lady I mentioned before as the contact person for Daniel at school was next. It was established that if Fletcher was needed by his parish on Tuesdays, he could be reached at his mother’s. I don’t believe anyone would have a problem with that as it was well known that Tuesday was a Jimmy day.
However, the next witness, her son, was harder to listen to. He talked about the difficulty of getting away from school without permission, names being checked on rolls and then checked off at the end of the sports’ afternoons and then he made the extraordinary claim that the school was fenced. I guess the gasp from the Maitland locals present in the Court that day convinced the jury that he was mistaken in that particular claim. Anyone familiar with Maitland and St Peter’s High school in those years, would know how easy it was to walk onto the river bank or up into the Heritage Mall. Dominic had in fact scored a detention from one such stroll to the river to play on the rope swing and to have a smoke. The Prosecution noted that the Defence witness was now a teacher and suggested that he may have been influenced in speaking about procedures by the nature of his present employment rather than recollections as a student. I believe he acknowledged the possibility of that.
Daniel later said that he didn’t attend much of the sport that had been discussed as he was very much involved with representative sport and he was coming and going from school a lot in relation to that.
The penis doctor was next. He gave a lengthy and professional opinion on the priest’s penis. There were photos and explanations of irregularities and at the end of his testimony there was a very loud silence. I’m not sure what the doctor proved but it was necessary for the Defence apparently because Daniel had stated that the priest’s penis looked partially uncircumcised, whatever that meant, when in fact the paedophile owned a penis that had been circumcised. I don’t think Daniel was an expert at thirteen years old, with his limited observations of his family’s and friends’ disparate models. The priest would have been very embarrassed, the media reported that he cried and I wished that he’d kept it where it belonged and none of this would have happened. Ultimately the issue did not add to or detract from either case.
That was the conclusion of the Defence case for the accused Catholic priest, Father James Patrick Fletcher.
We left the courtroom that day, a scorching, smoky day of overcast sky and searing westerly winds and made our way down to the cars. The family of the other victim walked in front of us and we slowed. Even though we had been told that after both boys had given their evidence we no longer had to be segregated, we had had no opportunity to make contact. As we neared the cars, we tentatively moved together and I can remember finding myself in the arms of the other mother and we sobbed on each other’s shoulders and then spoke of our brave and each other’s brave sons. We introduced ourselves to one another and our families and friends and I can truly say it was another significant moment of my life. What a courageous son they had to come forward and put himself through all of that, just to support a perfect stranger. He is in my heart.
As we all milled around, Daniel started to drive away when he spotted the other victim who had been slower coming down to the cars. Daniel stopped and they hugged each other through the open window of the car. What they said to each other I do not know but I do know there was not a dry eye in that car park. I looked up and saw Detective Fox standing under a tree nearby. He had his handkerchief out and I don’t think it was for the bushfire smoke or perspiration. These lovely people were not strangers anymore and were to walk the path ahead with us. I knew the door would be open between the rooms now. Another round of hugs and we all headed away to escape the heat and onlookers.
Sitting at home that night, I had time to reflect about the other family and the shock that they must have been experiencing. They had not had a long time to prepare themselves for the devastating allegations their son had made against the priest and they had found themselves embroiled in a sordid and painful event and in the public spotlight where many people had an opinion.
I spoke to Daniel and he too was thinking of them, especially the other victim. I know that in the ensuing weeks and months the two victims spoke regularly and they found a degree of comfort in doing that. They were both stunned and indignant to discover that they were not so special to the priest after all. The full realisation that they were the victims of a complete paedophile weighed heavily and they both suffered.
Another victim who was prepared to testify against the priest sat through every day of the trial. He also would have been reflecting on the evilness of the accused. The priest had actually been charged with this older victim’s matter and we were waiting to learn the outcome of that arrest. This man was older than my son and the other victim but we could all see that he had the same good looks and eye colouring as the younger fellows and we could recognise the pattern of preference of the priest.
How many blue/green eyed former Catholic altar boys of Fletcher are out there hiding the secret?
22
The next day saw us arriving at the Courthouse with a different feeling. We knew there would be no more evidence from either side and we had been told that the summing up would proceed. By now the media interest in the case had increased and we walked through onlookers and media representatives as we made our way up the stairs. I know we all felt relieved and comforted that no identifying information could be published but I was also feeling alarmed about what would happen at the end of the trial in relation to publicity.
Into the green room and for the first time, the con-necting door was open and we could speak to the other family. We didn’t have a lot to say to them as words didn’t seem enough but I know that we had formed a bond the day before and it didn’t need any words at all. We all shared the bond of being victims of this evil priest. My happy cousin, who had been sick the day before, was back and as usual, I felt her comforting presence. Our loyal family and close friends who attended the Trial day after day were amazing. They gave their time, hospitality, warmth, compassion and most of all their love, daily, and without it, we would have been desolate. Food arrived on my doorstep, flowers and kind words as well and gestures such as these, made an enormous difference to me as I realised the extent of the silent support our family had.
Not having been through a criminal trial before, in fact not any trial, I was completely unprepared for the day of summations. The Crown Prosecutor summed up the Crown’s case against Fletcher. I had not heard any of Daniel’s evidence and so I was very upset to hear it as presented again by the Crown. I learned that my son had been groomed by James Patrick Fletcher for the purpose of sex and of the extremely painful experiences he suffered as a thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen-year-old “at the hands of a person who held great authority over him at the time.”
The charges of eight counts of homosexual intercourse with a child aged between ten and eighteen and one count of committing an aggravated act of indecency with a child, were known to me but were in some part of my brain where I had hidden them and had not processed them very well. To hear those charges described in detail was very painful for me and to Daniel’s father and brothers as well. Each charge was explained in full and the words “excruciating pain” and “anal intercourse” ripped aside any last vestiges of protection I had afforded myself. This was raw and real. I know I cried through most of that session and I know I was crying for Daniel, our family and for the future as well as the past. How could anyone recover from that? What if the jury didn’t believe Fletcher was guilty and he was acquitted?
After raping my beloved son, the priest bought a single can of coke and offered Daniel a swig. Mundane little details like the selfish purchase of one can of coke helped a realistic recall of events by Daniel. At the river near our home, Daniel said he had to stand on “his tippy toes” during one sess
ion of abuse and that certainly evoked a distressing mental image of a helpless little boy suffering at the hands of a paedophile who had told him that their times together were special but who made threats to my son if he told anyone. The knowledge that he rode his bicycle home “standing on his pedals” was cruel and unequivocal. I personally have anguished now for years that Daniel was not able to tell me what was happening to him and I have had to reluctantly accept, along with all the other mothers of victims throughout the world, that paedophile power is evil but superior to parent power. Did Fletcher feel the force of my murderous feelings towards him at that time?
The Crown summed up by saying that the alleged victim’s account of “such painful experiences was convincing and consistent.” He also said that the minor details recounted by the victim gave truth to his account and that the evidence provided by the alleged victim’s family members and a second man who alleged Father Fletcher had performed oral sex on him gave the Crown’s case strength. He acknowledged the Defence’s claim that no-one in their right mind would take such enormous risks to take a victim to a public place for sex but said it was not a question of whether the acts were “dangerous or foolhardy” but whether they had actually occurred.
He went on to say that “people do take risks, especially when sexual matters are involved, people do have sex in public places.”
Holy Hell Page 10