Justice Denied

by John Suter Linton

  The last time I saw Mrs Price was at Mulawa after the judicial inquiry. As usual, she was calm and unemotional, neat and tidy. In my experience, wives do not kill their husbands for no reason. Had she fired the fatal shot because of a mental condition, this had the potential to reduce her culpability from murder to manslaughter and be given a much lesser penalty. On Mrs Price’s instructions, the outcome for her was ‘murder or nothing’.

  Twice, a verdict of murder was the result.

  Mrs Price never hinted at any disaffection with her husband, indeed quite the contrary. I nonetheless believed she should be examined by a psychiatrist. It may have revealed a history of domestic violence, or unpleasant sexual practices, or some form of abnormality of mind. As Mrs Price still denied the homicide, several psychiatrists expressed the view that they could do nothing for her. To my lay mind, that seemed strange. Denial might itself be a symptom of a mental condition.

  Lorraine Price remains an enigma. Psychiatrists were unable to penetrate her mind when they tried. There was always another story.

  To reject or even give minimal weight to the drug-induced revelations of Mrs Price involves no criticism of Dr Schmalzbach’s professionalism or integrity. Nor does it necessarily involve a criticism of Mrs Price herself. She voluntarily submitted to the test. It involved the total invasion of her mind by the drug. There was never any independent support for her version.

  The decision by Justice Slattery to allow evidence of the truth drug revelation was unprecedented in Australian law, but it created no precedent. The inquiry was not a court. Although he was the Chief Judge of the Common Law Division of the Supreme Court, Justice Slattery was not sitting as a judge, but in the simple role of a Justice of the Peace. The rules of evidence did not apply, and none of the parties to the inquiry had any right of appeal. Such inquiries were extremely rare.

  In all, Mrs Price gave five versions of the tragedy. First to the local sergeant who came to the house, then the formal record of interview, her statements to the two juries and, finally, her evidence to the Slattery Inquiry.

  From all points of view this was a tragic case. A hardworking 37-year-old father of three children was killed in the prime of his life. The three children, all under ten years old, lost their father and as events unfolded, their mother as well. Effectively, Lorraine Price’s life was destroyed.

  The Price family lost a loved and loving member. The respected Reverend Henry Martin had his good name unjustly besmirched in a public way, but hopefully his vindication was accepted. Not even the prosecution ever suggested his conduct was anything other than exemplary. He remained highly regarded in the community.

  The small town of Peak Hill was bitterly divided over the case. Sadly, this cascading effect, like the ripples caused by a pebble thrown into a pond, arises in different ways in most murder cases. That is why murder is such a dreadful crime. More often than not, it is committed by ordinary people.

  Undoubtedly, Mrs Price only had herself to blame for a lot of her problems. Her failure to reveal the role of Trevor to the police, her lawyers and the two juries, left only the fact that she was alone in the house with her husband at the time of the fatal shot. There was only one shot fired and the empty cartridge case was found in the kitchen tidy. There was no plausible explanation of how it got there, but did there have to be?

  Mrs Price applied to have her life sentence converted into a fixed period. Hearing the application, Justice James Wood was decisive on both aspects. In September 1992, Justice Wood redetermined her life sentence. He set ten years. Four days later she was released from gaol on licence.

  After his mother’s release, Trevor gave a lengthy interview to the Sunday Telegraph, which was published on 25 October 1992. The story, which was spread across two pages, was headlined, ‘I DIDN’T KILL MY FATHER’. BOY’S TRAGIC STORY OF HOW HIS MOTHER ACCUSED HIM OF A CRIME HE DIDN’T COMMIT. It was, understandably, a sympathetic article and told of his suffering after the Slattery Inquiry. To his great credit, Trevor told of visiting his mother in gaol ‘about fifteen or twenty times’. He spoke of his pain and hopes for the future.

  Lorraine Price was aged thirty-nine when arrested. She had served the greater part of her sentence in Mulawa, the women’s prison at Silverwater. Her release was from the Norma Parker women’s minimum security gaol, the notorious old Parramatta Girls’ Home modified. She had been on work release for a year before that. But she was still a prisoner.

  Will Mrs Price ever be free? She lost a decade of her life, she lost her husband, home and children, and lost her inheritance from her mother on legal fees. In time served, perhaps she was treated humanely. At the time of writing this book, the standard non-parole period for murder is twenty years.

  If Mrs Price were a manipulative killer, she chose a perilous, cruel and pointless route to end her marriage. Unhappy husbands and wives always have the melancholy remedy of divorce. Many an ill-treated wife who has killed has been shown mercy by the courts. Mrs Price relied on none of that.

  To this day, the Lorraine May Price case remains a sad mystery.

  CHAPTER

  6

  Michelle Lawford—The Tragic Mum

  Justice Ronald Cross was a man with a gift for elegant language. He was tall and thin. He served in the air force during World War Two and was badly wounded in combat. He did not have a reputation as a lenient judge.

  At the time Michelle Lawford appeared before him charged with the murder of her husband, Justice Cross was an acting judge of the Supreme Court, though he had a wealth of experience from his decades as a District Court judge. Justice Cross would remain on the Bench of the Supreme Court and become the longest-serving judge in Australian legal history, with the exception of Justice Edward McTiernan on the High Court before age limits applied. Michelle Lawford was a young mother with one child, a four-year-old daughter, Anastasia. On the evening of 27 October 1977 she lost control and killed her husband—he died from a single stab wound to his back. Mrs Lawford deserved more than a little pity. Her life had been dreadful: for years, Mr Lawford had physically, verbally and emotionally abused his wife to the point where she could take no more.

  Police had charged Michelle Lawford with her husband’s murder when I was briefed to appear. Initially, she was refused bail and kept in gaol, and her four-year-old daughter was taken away by child welfare authorities. The little girl’s father was dead. Her mother was in gaol. The future for both was bleak.

  As the trial approached, not unexpectedly, the Crown had indicated a preparedness to accept a plea of guilty to manslaughter in full discharge of the indictment. This was a fair and proper development, and with it came the dilemma of how to advise Mrs Lawford. She was a pleasant young lady and obviously she would be trusting enough to take my advice. To reject the chance to plead guilty to the lesser charge would be a brave step.

  The homicide involved a single knife wound to her husband’s back. That factor alone was an extremely adverse one when the Crown law authorities came to consider the extent of her criminal liability. The Crown argument was that this showed cool intent and deliberation. The sad fact is, seldom do people stand in the dock for sentencing for doing something praiseworthy; crime by definition is antisocial. A crime of violence, as here, is very much so. The self-defence argument for the battered wife was not all plain sailing. The offer to accept a plea of guilty to manslaughter conceded she was acting in self-defence, but her force was excessive. The lack of any physical injuries to Michelle Lawford, in the legal context only, detracted from the ‘battered wife’ plea.

  There were three possible outcomes to consider. First, if she were convicted of murder, the only sentence then available was mandatory penal servitude for life. Gender did not spare a battered wife from that. Second, there was always the chance a jury could allow sympathy for her to intrude into their deliberations and acquit her outright. What is not always understood is that to convict of murder did not require proof of an intent to kill—proof of an intention to do ser
ious injury was enough. This was amply demonstrated by the use of a knife on the unarmed victim. The chances of an outright acquittal were not high, but could not be absolutely ruled out. The third, and most likely, outcome in a trial would be a conviction for manslaughter. Moreover, an offer of acceptance of a guilty plea to the lesser charge of manslaughter is seldom offered by the Crown, unless there is a real chance of an outright acquittal. The Crown has a substantial public duty to perform, and part of that duty is to minimise the possibility of criminal conduct avoiding any punishment. This is what motivates the offer to accept a plea on a lesser charge.

  That was my opinion.

  For what was classically labelled a domestic homicide, the prospect of a sentence of more than seven years was, in my humble opinion, unlikely. A sentence of the order of three years seemed within the range. In those days, a minimum term was fixed and it was not beyond the bounds of hope she would be eligible for release after a year, or a shade less, in gaol. There was an unlikely, but possible, chance of release on a good behaviour bond.

  Mrs Lawford’s guilty plea, remorse and strong subjective features, would attract further reduction in the sentence. While these days it is not politically correct to say so, a person’s appearance and demeanour can, and does, influence judges and juries. A demure, diminutive lady and neatly attired gentleman somehow always seem to be a shade in front of the tattooed hoodlum in the sympathy and leniency stakes.

  Mrs Lawford had been granted bail and we had a meeting at my chambers in Phillip Street one very wet winter’s night. I remember how sad I was sitting with her and explaining there was the very real prospect she would end up in gaol. All Michelle Lawford wanted was to be with her young daughter, Anastasia. My hope was, by taking the plea, that separation would be as brief as possible.

  Advising a client who has a credible defence to the charge of murder to accept the offer of a plea of guilty to manslaughter, and therefore not getting the opportunity to test the defence, is the most difficult task I ever faced at the Bar. And it never got any easier with time.

  * * *

  The sentencing hearing was in June 1978. In such a hearing, the judge must determine the facts, evidence and any mitigating circumstances, upon which they will pass sentence. Careful, merciful judges will tell you there is no more arduous judicial task.

  The adversarial nature of proceedings between Crown and defence is significantly diminished and, dare I say it, more relaxed when a hearing relates solely to sentence. Therefore, during the hearing, my subtle unspoken theme was to endeavour to suggest to Acting Justice Cross that if he himself had been appearing for the accused and elected to go to trial, rather than plead guilty to manslaughter, then a jury may well have acquitted Mrs Lawford outright. This submission was an endeavour by me to magnify the reduction of the sentence for pleading guilty and, in the process, not antagonise the judge.

  There is, however, a flip side. An overly favourable representation of a version of the facts which is inconsistent with guilt may result in the judge refusing to accept the guilty plea at all and they could set the matter down again for trial. The defence has overplayed its hand. Thus, a delicate forensic touch is required.

  Naturally, my presentation of the facts was crafted and unfolded in a fashion to favour Michelle Lawford. Having said that, the explanation of Mrs Lawford’s act—although the plea of guilty acknowledged it had exceeded what was reasonable retaliation—went very close to asserting the complete argument of self-defence. In short, I feared I was doing too good a job, which could have led the judge to reject the guilty plea. The testing of that defence before a jury in a murder trial would have been much more thorough.

  Thankfully, Acting Justice Cross was attentive and apparently sympathetic. As we were coming to the end of the day, Justice Cross posed a question. If he accepted, at the highest level, my presentation, then what should be the outcome? My respectful reply was he ‘not send Mrs Lawford to gaol’.

  His Honour’s response was courteous, but he inquired whether that outcome was really within the responsible exercise of his discretion. It was within his wide discretion, I replied, and ‘this was a truly exceptional case’.

  Suddenly the session was over for the day. The judge thanked me for my assistance and praised my commitment to my client’s cause. This, my instructing solicitor whispered, was the ‘kiss of death’, a cliché in the lawyer’s trade presaging an unfavourable result. Just before adjourning, the judge described his sentencing task as ‘difficult’. Again, not a good omen.

  Michelle Lawford had been on bail during the proceedings and I tentatively asked for it to be continued. Acting Justice Cross paused, then said, ‘Very well’, quickly adding no one should read his continuance of bail as an indication of the likely outcome. None of us were feeling overly optimistic.

  Within a week the sentencing hearing resumed. All rose as Acting Justice Cross entered and was seated. The uniformed sheriff’s officer indicated to Michelle Lawford for her to remain standing, as is procedure. Normally, the judge would then address the accused, say they accept the plea, outline the evidence and any factors which may affect their sentencing, and go on to deliver the sentence. After this Mrs Lawford would be led down to the cells and then taken to gaol and processed. Instead, the judge, in a soft voice, told Mrs Lawford she could be seated. Polite but, from past experience, not a good sign.

  Acting Justice Cross started to read from his notes. He accepted and made telling reference to the violence Michelle Lawford had suffered as a basis for some leniency: ‘It is plain, from a mountain of unchallenged evidence, that almost throughout their married life, her husband exhibited continued and major violence to her.’

  Justice Cross then made a very important finding: ‘No jury would have returned a verdict of murder in the light of all the provocation.’ Proved provocation can reduce murder to manslaughter. The judge continued, ‘Even on the manslaughter charge, and though the deceased was stabbed in the back, a plea of self-defence may have touched the heart of a sympathetic jury.’ He warned of the ‘stern retribution’ that awaited unhappy wives who took the law into their own hands. The judge’s considered, deliberate opinion was, ‘no jury would have returned a verdict of murder … this carries unambiguous criticism of the decision to accept the guilty plea to manslaughter.’ His Honour was saying, had Michelle elected to go to trial, the worst thing that would have happened is precisely the predicament in which she presently stood, or sat, facing sentence for manslaughter. And I was wrong in advising my client to accept the plea. Justice Cross looked straight at me when he delivered the sting.

  His Honour’s opinion cannot be discarded. Here, however, counsel’s position is a difficult one. The top priority is seeking to achieve the best possible result for the client. Mrs Lawford’s best interests were the paramount consideration.

  Counsel has a privileged role, but it carries with it very heavy responsibilities. To proceed to trial is not a question of counsel’s ‘courage’ or expediency. If an honest mistake is made, counsel does not serve any time in gaol as a result; that is the sad lot of the client. In some ways, gambling the lot and going to trial is the more expedient option for counsel: it leaves the outcome to the jury. If the gamble succeeds, counsel’s reputation is enhanced with a bit of a ‘win’. If the gamble fails, it can be explained away smoothly on the grounds ‘the Crown case was just too strong’, ‘the judge was against it’, or the prosecutor ‘went right over the fence’, or a combination of all three. Outright acquittals for murder are rare.

  Again, counsel’s role comes back to weighing all of the facts and circumstances and advising what is honestly believed to be in the best interests of the client. There are many escape hatches. The most plausible is: ‘Well, it was the client’s decision.’ That is a statement of fact. It overlooks the reality, however, that, if counsel has earned the trust of the client, their advice, even if it is not what the client wanted to hear, will usually be decisively influential.

  It mu
st be conceded that there was a chance of Michelle Lawford gaining an outright acquittal. Against that was the undoubted fact the deceased had been stabbed in the back. And there is, as I’ve said, no guaranteed result in a murder trial.

  Acting Justice Cross concluded by describing Mrs Lawford’s case as being ‘genuinely exceptional’. He went on: ‘She could stand no more. Battered, humiliated and upset, terrified at what he might do next … she stabbed him.’ Staring at me, as a teacher does a disruptive student, the judge said, ‘In the light of this history, only a Rhadamanthine court would fail to extend compassion.’

  That classical allusion confounded all in the courtroom. We looked at each other, but dare not let Justice Cross know we had no clue as to what or who he referred. In time I found a copy of The Myths of Greece and Rome, by HA Guerber. In Roman mythology, three judges, one of whom was Rhadamanthus, determined the fate of the dead. The good were led to the Elysian Fields, and the evil condemned to suffer in the fires of Tartarus and incessant torment. Thus, Rhadamanthus was a member of, perhaps, the first plural bench. In Greek mythology he is the son of Zeus and holds the same position.

  Mrs Lawford was released on a five-year good behaviour bond.

  She did not go to gaol, but ever since I have agonised over whether or not the advice I gave her, to accept the offer and plead guilty, was the best advice. While the decision for her to plead not guilty to murder but guilty to manslaughter was hers, I know she was heavily influenced by me. Her sole objective was to stay out of gaol and reclaim her daughter, who had been placed in the care of the state.

  The Sunday Telegraph of 25 June 1978 led with the headline, TRAGIC MUM FIGHTS TO WIN BACK ONLY CHILD. The story read, ‘Tragic Michelle Lawford, driven to kill her violently brutal husband, now faces a battle to get back her only child.’ On her release Michelle was penniless and had nowhere to live and no job. She told the press, “I will love my husband till the day I die, but Anastasia is the only thing I have to live for now.”