The Convict and the Soldier

by John P F Lynch

  He walked to the window and looked out at the men in the line up and saw him. He also noticed the injuries to his face. He immediately knew that he had a predicament, considering the shire president’s comments about complaints of excessive force. This man was elderly, had injuries to his face and was the father-in-law of the popular military commander. Bringing him before the court on a charge of drunk and disorderly would bring further complaints from persons with authority. He thought for a while then vindictively decided to extend the charge to possession of stolen goods.

  Two months ago an overseas visitor attending the Kyneton Agricultural Show had had an engraved watch stolen. This same engraved watch was later posted to the Kyneton Police Station and had arrived when he was talking to the duty constable. Lang took the envelope into his office and on opening the envelope found the missing watch. He had placed it in his drawer, intending to hold it for a few months on the possibility the visitor may return to Kyneton. Lang now had Edmund Keogh removed from the line up and sent back to the cells.

  After the morning’s court session, Lang returned to the barracks and called Moore and the two constables who arrested Edmund, into his office. He then sent for Edmund Keogh. When Keogh entered the room he saw in front of him the man he most hated in this world. He could feel the anger surging into his body and he could not speak. Lang sensed this fury and felt a fear he had not possessed before. Lang looked away and then asked the troopers if they had searched him when he was arrested. They answered in the negative. When he asked them why, they just shrugged their shoulders.

  Lang cleared an area of his desk and ordered Edmund to remove his jacket, shirt and boots and place them on the desk.

  Edmund had still not spoken but did as he was ordered. He removed his boots first, then his coat which he placed on the desk. Lang picked up the jacket and appeared to drop it. It fell on his side of the desk out of view of his men. As he bent down to pick it up he slipped the watch into the inside pocket. He stood up and then placed it back on the desk. He then ordered Moore to search the clothing. Moore looked at him, wondering what this was all about.

  As Moore picked up the coat in one hand, he held it at arm’s length. He had an uneasy feeling and sure enough with his other hand he found a watch and a crumpled piece of paper in Edmund Keogh’s coat pocket. He handed the watch to Lang, who looked at it closely.

  “This is the missing watch from the agriculture show; I recognise the engravings from the owner’s description,” said Lang.

  “Edmund Keogh, I am charging you with possession of stolen goods. Do you have anything to say?” Edmund did not answer. “No? Return him to the cells,” ordered Lang.

  From the time the search began the only person who spoke was District Inspector Lang. After the others left the office he knew he was on his own. Moore had looked at him with disdain and the troopers had ignored him. At no time did Edmund Keogh speak; he just looked at him with hatred. Lang knew that the arrest of Edmund Keogh would be circulated around the entire district within the week.

  Moore immediately rode to advise John where his father-in-law was and what had happened. John sent one of his men to inform Maeve and to find Edmund’s horse which was still at the back of the hotel. He sat quietly listening to the full story. At least he had been found; that was the main concern satisfied. Now, how to handle the impending court hearing. He felt it was best if he kept a low profile until the court case.

  Another ally of the Keogh’s, Brendan Devlin, immediately began to investigate Edmund’s dilemma. He back-tracked the arrest to the hotel and William Eden and began seeking witnesses to the arrest. Several men came forward when they knew whom and why their statements were required. Brendan started to follow up the story of the watch. He even approached Deputy Inspector Moore who volunteered, discreetly, the events in Lang’s office.

  A preliminary hearing was held a week later with the police magistrate. The small courtroom soon filled. All seats were taken and the remainder of the persons allowed in were leaning against the walls. Brendan Devlin and the Observer newspaper reporter were seated along the side wall adjacent to the magistrate near the evidence desk where the stolen watch had been placed and then covered by a gauze cloth. John arrived and sat upstairs in the balcony, out of the view of Lang. The hearing began with the clerk of the courts reading the charge of ‘Possession of stolen goods, namely a watch.’

  The Magistrate asked Edmund, “How do you plea?”

  Edmund responded, “Not guilty, Your Honour.”

  “District Inspector, please present your case.”

  “The defendant was found to have a stolen watch in his possession when searched at the Kyneton Police Station.”

  “Why was he in the police station in the first place?”

  “He had been arrested on a drunk and disorderly charge.”

  “What penalty did he receive for that offence?”

  “I decided to drop the charge.”

  “Were there other persons arrested the same day as Mr Keogh? Were they all charged?” the magistrate asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Did Mr Keogh have both of these charges laid the same day?”

  “No.” Lang was feeling a little uneasy.

  “Was the search conducted the day of the arrest or the next day?”

  “The next day,” he answered.

  “What prompted the search of his clothing the next day?”

  “The troopers had forgotten to search him the previous day.”

  The magistrate was not satisfied with this answer and repeated the question. “What prompted the search, and who was in attendance when the defendant was being searched?”

  “Myself, Sub-inspector Moore and the two arresting troopers.”

  “Who searched the clothes?”

  “Sub-inspector Moore.”

  “Sub-inspector Moore, please take the stand.

  “Please explain the search procedure.”

  “The district inspector asked me to examine the coat and as he picked up the coat he dropped it as he was placing it on the desk. He then picked it up and placed it on the desk. I then picked up the coat and found the watch in the pocket.”

  “Did anyone else touch the jacket?”

  “No — not that I saw.”

  The magistrate began, “It seems to me that the defendant had in his possession a watch. Two senior police officers were the only persons to handle the jacket and I am obliged to accept their evidence. However, I wish now to call Mr Keogh to the—” He stopped mid-sentence.

  Shouting was heard outside the court doors, which suddenly burst open with two men throwing punches. Other men tried to stop them, but then a melee formed. All eyes were on the confrontation. Brendan Devlin rose from his seat and, as he walked past the evidence desk and behind his fellow reporter, he was momentarily hidden. He quickly lifted the gauze covering, picked up the watch, slipped it into his briefcase and kept walking towards the door.

  The magistrate called, “Court adjourned for one hour,” while banging his gavel on the desk.

  The police soon had control of the crowd and moved everybody out. The courtroom doors were locked and guarded.

  Brendan Devlin walked to the toilet pit at the rear of the court-house. After checking that no one was looking in his direction, he dropped the watch into the pit where it vanished from sight forever. He walked to his office and had lunch. On the hour, he returned and found that the courtroom had filled again.

  The magistrate commenced. “We have established that the defendant was found with a watch in his jacket pocket. I would now like to establish if this particular watch was stolen and how its identity was confirmed.” He looked towards Lang.

  Lang stood up. “We know it was the watch stolen from a visitor during the Agricultural Show this year. The watch has distinctive engravings as recorded on the statement from the owner.” Lang handed a copy of the statement to the clerk to pass to the magistrate.

  “It’s time we looked at the evidence. Pas
s me the watch please,” the magistrate asked the clerk who lifted the gauze cloth. He stood looking at the desk which was now devoid of the watch.

  He looked at the district inspector who returned his look, wondering about the delay in the clerk presenting the watch to the magistrate. To his horror the watch was not on the exhibit table. Lang was speechless. Behind him he could hear muffled laughter.

  The magistrate sat surveying the persons in the court with an expressionless face. He had had concerns regarding this case and they were now being confirmed. The fact that the accused had not been searched until the following day and had not been charged with drunk and disorderly seemed unusual. Without the evidence being available, the magistrate had an easy solution. Without the watch there could be no case to answer. He did not elaborate his concerns in the court summary.

  He asked the district inspector if the missing watch could be explained as it was under his care. Lang stood up, glaring at the constable standing near the table. His face was red with anger and his hands were shaking. He shook his head and abruptly sat down again.

  The magistrate then read his findings. “In so far as the charge is unable to be substantiated as the evidence is no longer available, the defendant is free to go. However, there are unusual issues in this case and, even though this is a minor offence I will be noting my concerns surrounding this case to Melbourne, for further investigation. The court is dismissed.” The court erupted in cheers and Edmund was carried from the room and deposited in his cart where John sat, smiling, ready to drive him to Sunny Lodge and peace again.

  John had been ready to appeal the case if Edmund had been sentenced but now there would be no need. Brendan Devlin stood by the side of the road and gave Edmund a short wave which Edmund guessed was his indication as to his involvement in the brawl and the ‘losing’ of the watch. Edmund waved back.

  ¶

  Frederick lounged around the house for a few days and then began to look around Kyneton. He soon found a few locals of his own age and ilk and began joining them for regular drinks in the front bar of the Royal Hotel and some gambling upstairs. He travelled to Melbourne several times to look around the new city but he was not overly impressed after living for a few years in a European society. Boredom gradually set in.

  His father encouraged him to look for employment but this was received with, “Yes, I will when I make up my mind as to my calling.”

  The drinking and gambling began to become a habit. He had not become associated with any women as he seemed more interested in establishing friendship with his male friends.

  The gambling during the day time was only social cards with small bets, but he soon developed the urge to join in the serious betting that occurred in the evenings.

  The inn keeper, Tim Doolan, was a tough, no-nonsense man. He and his wife ran a good house and suffered fools lightly. Drunks and persons behaving in a rowdy manner were soon ejected by him or his staff. There were two bars and a ladies lounge, which was used mainly for dining. He tolerated the card games as they brought in customers who would drink and sometimes dine. His establishment was rated the best in Kyneton and frequented by civic leaders and farmhands.

  Paul Lang was supplying Frederick with a weekly allowance, as he had no money of his own. This money rarely lasted the week and he was soon approaching his mother for more.

  The evening gambling sessions had been successful at first as he had some substantial wins. However, after a week of losses he began to borrow from an Irish friend who was the local tailor and had a profitable business. His fortunes see-sawed but Frederick eventually found that he owed his friend nearly fifty pounds and he was being pressed to pay. With no means to borrow further he was in trouble; he was worried his father would find out.

  Frederick paced back and forth in his room wondering what to do. When he hit his shin on the small trunk, he stopped and cursed. Of course — the sword! Could he sell it? What was it worth? He decided to mention it to his tailor friend the next day.

  Frederick had received his weekly allowance and in the evening he strolled to the Royal Hotel and walked over to his friend. “Can we have a chat?”

  They moved to a quiet corner of the room. “I have a very historical Irish sword for sale. I can sell it to you for a very reasonable price. Would you be interested?”

  His friend shocked him by saying, “What would I do with a sword? I’m a tailor.”

  Frederick did not answer for a second or two, trying to quickly think of another sale angle, but he could see his friend was not in the least interested. Frederick nodded then walked away into the bar.

  He sat at a side table looking down the street, wondering what next to do about his gambling debts. Perhaps he should go to Melbourne and offer the sword for sale in an auction room. He continued drinking alone and began to feel depressed and then angry. He was now in an aggressive mood, and went to the bar. He banged his fist down and shouted for another drink.

  Tim was in the bar at this time. He looked up. “You have had enough. Goodnight, sir.”

  Frederick launched into a tirade of abuse rarely seen in the Royal Hotel.

  Tim said, “Please leave, sir,” walking to the door to open it. He had his back turned to Frederick who picked up a chair and swung it at Tim. It struck him in the back of the head and Tim immediately collapsed to the floor. Four other patrons then attacked Frederick, bringing him to the ground.

  Sub-inspector Moore was in the police barracks when a rider ran in, calling out, “There is trouble at the Royal Hotel. Come quickly.” On arrival he found Tim being treated by his wife. He had come round but had serious head injuries. A patron led Moore to the stables where a struggling and vocal Frederick had been tied to a hitching rail.

  Moore stopped. Good God, not the District Inspector’s son. He sent a constable to tell his father of the situation and, after talking to witnesses, his constables took Frederick to the police station. Moore spent the next hour taking witness statements, and there were plenty. By now, Tim had been attended by a doctor and prepared to be hospitalised.

  When Moore arrived back at the police station, Paul Lang was in the cell talking to his son. Frederick was still agitated and walked round and round the small room.

  Moore waited in the front office for his senior officer. The district inspector immediately asked, “What are the charges?”

  Moore responded, “Aggravated assault, and drunk and disorderly.”

  “Witnesses?” Lang asked.

  “Six,” Moore replied.

  Lang did not ask for his son to be bailed as he knew he was still drunk. He walked out of the office without another word. When he arrived home he sat Virginia down and told her what Frederick had done.

  She sat there without saying a word. First Major Hall and now this, she thought. Why me?

  ¶

  The tailor entered the Guardian Newspaper office and waved to Brendan through the door. He was there to place an advertisement.

  Brendan waved him in. “What happened at the Royal last night?” After hearing the story he asked, “What set him off?”

  The tailor replied, “Well he offered to sell me an historical Irish sword to clear his debt to me and I refused to buy it. Maybe that was it.”

  Brendan froze. Could this be the stolen sword Michael mentioned? They spoke some more, then the tailor rose and left to return to his shop. Brendan sat deep in thought. What should he do? If the sword was in Frederick’s house, what was the best way to recover it? As a reporter and also as an Irishman he had made the acquaintance of several people on or over the fringes of the law; some he knew quite well. One such person was the renowned Captain Irish, the bushranger. His real name was William McMahon and his family had married into the Devlin’s many years ago.

  Captain Irish had several hiding places. One was the well-known landmark called Mt Diogenes named by the explorer Major Mitchell who was a Greek scholar. It was an unusual rocky outcrop situated between Woodend and Kyneton with a lookout at the top
, affording views on all sides for many miles. It was ideal for persons who wished to avoid the long arm of the law. Brendan had not been there for over a year, but knew he could leave him a message. He saddled his horse and left early in the morning heading south. He reached Mt Diogenes at noon, dismounted and hobbled his horse. He walked between two large rocks at the base and started climbing.

  He had not travelled fifty yards when a voice calling from above.

  “Hello, Brendan.”

  Looking up he saw Captain Irish smiling down. They sat down together. Brendan told his story.

  Captain Irish asked, “I presume that you want me to retrieve the sword for you?”

  Brendan replied, “Well, not for me but for a friend of mine, Michael Somerset.”

  Captain Irish replied, “I met him once in unusual circumstances; I owe him a favour. Yes, I will do it.”

  ¶

  Frederick had been bailed and had obtained a lawyer from Woodend, a Mr Johnson, to defend him. Their defence would be that he had been grossly insulted and he had been provoked into losing his temper.

  The court case was two weeks later. The morning of the court case, the Lang family drove to the court house. District Inspector Lang and his wife sat together in the front seat. Frederick had presented himself at the police station. Sub-inspector Moore was to act as prosecutor. He was not happy with this onerous duty of prosecuting his senior officer’s son as he was in a no-win position. Brendan was in his seat at the court as normal but that was the only thing normal for him that day.

  The clerk called, “The court will rise.”

  The magistrate walked in, bowed and then sat down. He said, “Be seated. Please read the charges.”

  The clerk commenced his address. “Mr Frederick Lang you are charged on the said date with: the first charge being drunk and disorderly; the second charge — aggravated assault on the person of Mr Timothy Doolan.

  “How do you plea?”