Next to speak at the service was Natalie's sister. On the verge of tears, Janine spoke haltingly about her sister. 'We will never forget you. We love you and we are going to miss you.'
But somehow, mere words could not express the sheer and total loss they all felt.
At the end of the service, Father Rogan circled the coffin sprinkling it with holy water. Another priest swung the brass incense holder; its smoke rose upwards in thin wisps as the congregation sang Come to Her Aid O Saints on High, to the tune of Amazing Grace.
The white cloth was removed from the coffin and folded carefully by one of the priests as six men approached to carry the coffin out of the hall. Pictures of You - Natalie's favourite song by The Cure - played as the funeral procession moved slowly from the church followed by the family, all leaning on each other for support. As it moved through the foyer, the procession passed a display of enlarged pictures of Natalie Russell from when she was little to more recent shots; the photographs were all surrounded by bunches of beautiful flowers.
Outside the hall, Carmel Russell looked around at the huge crowd and realised how much her daughter was loved. As the family drove slowly through the guard of honour formed by hundreds of students along Skye Road, and with a police escort in front of them, Carmel said aloud, 'Look Nat, they don't even do this for royalty. You got your wish; you went out with a bang.'
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
On Trial
Pentridge Prison, Monday 22 November 1993
Hi everybody,
I just got your letters and card. Thank you dearly for them because your understanding makes me feel a lot better. Well I guess it's another day over and done with and I still probably have another 20 years or more to go. That's just an estimate.
I got a lot of work done today in the tailor shop till we ran out of canvas. Oh well, you can get that anywhere.
I remember now, that I rang you shortly before I was arrested. Could you tell that there was something wrong by the sound of my voice? Some people have said to me that I sounded like a stranger before. Well that was the old me. I know that I can't turn back time but the only thing to do is to say 'what now' instead of 'what if'.
My only mistake in life was I couldn't trust anyone with the truth of my past. It still hurts now to think of that. Mum has probably told you all about who it was. But people seemed so mean and I found it very hard to talk to my brothers. The day before the second incident, I was at Richard's place and trying to talk to Steve and Richard. They didn't believe me when I told them about the flashbacks I was having about David. They just accused Sharon and her mother of putting that into my head. I kept telling them that whole afternoon I was having these images about the abuse even before I met Sharon.
So I left their place feeling awkward and very upset as I walked to the bottle shop. I bought alcohol and went home to get drunk. After drinking for about one hour I went out and the rest is history. I don't remember much after that. It was things like this and the other problems I was having that led me to these horrific acts. Could you please do me a big favour, not to tell anyone about what I have just said till after I am convicted because it's supposed to be classified information. But I know I can trust you not to say anything to anyone because the chances of the media coming into it is one hundred per cent.
Well I hope Tricia finds a job soon because I know how I felt not to have a job. To me that is, it takes away your pride and self-worthiness and it makes you feel useless to the world and your partner. That's how I felt at the time watching my hardworking fiancé Sharon go to work every morning at 6.30am and then waiting for her to come home at 9.00pm. But at least I'm happy now that I'm working and that Sharon doesn't have to support me any more. So good luck Trish.
Before I came to prison, I never realised there are compassionate people on this earth. Everyone looked so mean and unwilling to help me or anyone. I went to Steve and Richard one day discussing my abuse and they seemed like they didn't want to know. Sharon tried to do what she could for me but with the pressures from my family, I guess she gave up a bit.
Well Richard and Steve are not talking to me and Dad has been very helpful. Sharon and her mum or sister come to visit every Tuesday and Wednesday for an hour. We pray together for everyone that I have hurt and sometimes I feel better about myself. I know I will be in here for many years to come and I know that my beloved Sharon will be standing by me. Our love can never be imprisoned and these bars can't keep it out.
Well what I want for the future is to try and put back what I have taken away. I know that it will probably never be done but I will try my best to help others.
I'm only going to better myself while in here and I am putting what happened behind me.
So I have two more days in court in December some time and there will be a bit of shit going round but eventually it will die down.
I have met a few other wrong doers in here and none of them are what the media have described. They just want the public to believe other things and whatever they make up.
Well I will close at this and if you want to you can write to me in here because I would like to keep in contact. With more time, I can provide (whoever is interested) with the answers to the questions that are bouncing around in all of your minds.
God bless.
Love always,
Paul xxxxx
On Wednesday 15 December 1993, five months after his arrest, Paul Denyer fronted court, and pleaded guilty to all three murders as well as to the abduction of Roszsa Toth. Initially, in relation to the abduction, Denyer had been charged with attempted murder, but he had refused to plead guilty. He would however plead to the lesser charge of abducting her. It seemed strange to those involved with the case, because Denyer admitted in his police interview that he had intended to kill her but she got away before he had the chance.
Carmel Russell did not go to the trial itself, though she intended to be there for the sentencing. Her daughters Janine and Lisa wanted to attend so they went with Carmel's sister, Bernadette Naughton. After they left Frankston for the Supreme Court, homicide detective Mark Woolfe phoned the Russell house to see if any of them were going to the trial. When Carmel explained that the girls were already on their way, Woolfe told her that he would try to protect them from the media.
When they arrived at the Supreme Court, Janine, Lisa and Bernadette climbed the stairs to the visitors' gallery. The seats were hard and uncomfortable and, even though it was summer, the three women shivered in the cold of the old building. Soon after they were seated, Janine felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Mark Woolfe.
'You shouldn't have to sit here,' he told her. 'Come downstairs, I'll organise a special seat for you.' He also gently told the women to be prepared because some of the evidence would be disturbing.
It didn't matter, because Janine had such a strong feeling of unreality that afterwards she was unable to recall any of the graphic details.
Downstairs in the main court room, Janine, Lisa and Bernadette waited for Denyer to be brought in. It was a moment filled with tension; Janine had never laid eyes on the man who had taken her youngest sister's life. They watched intently as he was brought into the court by two prison officers.
Bernadette Naughton was surprised. Paul Denyer was a big man with a boyish face. A chilling thought occurred to her: if she met him on the street, she wouldn't have hesitated to ask him for directions. He looked like any other ordinary person.
During the hearing, Janine's older sister Lisa left the court room for a break. As she walked past Paul Denyer in the dock, he stared at her, his eyes following her as she left. She stared right back at him.
Prosecutor Nigel Parkinson presented the evidence in order: Elizabeth, the abduction, Debbie and finally Natalie. When the evidence got around to Debbie Fream, Bernadette Naughton was reaching for a second tissue. As she opened her bag for one, she was vaguely worried that the police might think she was reaching for a gun. Bags hadn't been checked at the door and it occurred to he
r that it would have been easy for someone to have brought a weapon into the court.
By the time the evidence came to Natalie, Bernadette was sobbing uncontrollably. She was so distressed, she had to leave the court room to try to compose herself.
Paul and Rita Webster attended the trial as well. It wasn't a pleasant way to spend their wedding anniversary and the irony didn't escape them. Liz had been murdered four days before Paul's birthday and afterwards, when they were going through her things, he had found a present wrapped up waiting for his birthday. She never got to give it to him. Now their wedding anniversary was to be tainted in the same way.
They too had initially sat upstairs and then moved downstairs to be closer to the proceedings. Rita Webster had watched closely as Denyer was brought in. As soon as she saw his face, she drew in a sharp breath. She recognised him. Unsure exactly where, Rita Webster knew that she had seen Denyer before. That she could have walked past him or shopped at the same places was a frightening reality.
Paul Webster sat and stared at the young man in the dock and fantasised about what he would do to him if only he could bridge the couple of metres separating them.
Clinical psychologist, Ian Joblin, had examined Denyer for a number of hours in prison. In his opinion, Denyer appeared to be without remorse, even enjoyed talking about his crimes, and seemingly derived obvious pleasure recounting his atrocities.
Denyer had listed a number of factors in his life that he claimed contributed to his murder spree: his hard upbringing, his brother David's alleged sexual abuse of him, and his chronic unemployment.
These alleged triggers didn't satisfy the psychologist. Thousands of people lived under similar conditions to Paul Denyer; few of them became serial killers. Joblin spent his professional life examining adult offenders and in all his years he had never interviewed anyone quite like Denyer.
Joblin told the court that Paul Denyer was a rare breed of serial killer who committed his murders at random with no motive. This made him the most dangerous type of criminal known to our society. The psychologist said that Denyer had a cruel and demeaning nature and had exhibited aggressive behaviour since childhood. He seemed amused by the suffering that he had inflicted.
Joblin explained that Denyer was a sadist whose pleasure and satisfaction after each murder dissipated quickly so that he would again feel the desire to kill. The psychologist concluded by telling the court that there was no effective treatment for Denyer's sadistic personality. Trial judge, Justice Vincent, asked if his behaviour was driven. In Joblin's view, it was.
When all the evidence had been heard, prosecutor Nigel Parkinson told Justice Vincent that Denyer should be given a life sentence with no minimum term for the despicable murders he had committed. He said that Denyer hated women and was a danger to the community.
'He is sadistic; he's a killer; he's not insane. He has a gross or severe personality disorder. The prognosis is poor.'
The prosecutor went on to tell the court of the far-reaching consequences of Denyer's murders on the community. 'It may be that the lifestyles of many thousands of women have changed forever, and for them, Melbourne will never be the same place it was before.'
Despite all the evidence defence lawyer, Sean Cash, urged Justice Vincent to impose a minimum sentence that wasn't inordinately long. Cash stressed how Denyer had pleaded guilty and saved the victims' families the ordeal of giving evidence. Denyer was a young man, he said, and should be given the chance to rehabilitate himself.
With most of the court room overtly hostile to the young killer, Cash's words were a travesty. Many shook their head in disbelief when the lawyer said that not only was the case sad for the families, but it was sad for Denyer too. 'It is fair to say he'd give anything as he sits there now to be normal. He doesn't only deserve punishment, he needs understanding and compassion and a chance to rehabilitate.'
There was more than one person in the court room who thought the killer deserved nothing more than a hangman's rope.
Janine's anger was welling up inside her as she sat for an hour listening to Denyer's lawyer describe his hard childhood and the allegations of sexual abuse. Cash told the court that Denyer wanted to rehabilitate himself, marry Sharon and perhaps write a book.
Janine later described listening to that part of the trial as the hardest thing she ever had to do. Here was the murderer of her sister having his lawyer list his hopes and dreams for the future. Janine's baby sister had no future. She wanted to scream and shout but the families were all unable to voice how they felt. The only comfort Janine allowed herself was to periodically clear her throat loudly in an attempt to remind the killer and the lawyer that she was there.
Sean Cash finished his plea for a minimum sentence by saying again that Denyer had the support of his girlfriend whom he wanted to marry, and that he had also found God. Justice Vincent quickly looked up from the bench and reminded the barrister that Denyer had dumped Debbie Fream's car right outside a Christian centre after he stabbed her to death. The point was not lost on the onlookers.
Justice Vincent held the sentencing over until the following Monday.
After the hearing was over, the prosecutor, Nigel Parkinson, approached Bernadette, Lisa and Janine. He apologised for the evidence that had to be given in court. Bernadette knew he must have heard her sobs, but she also understood that the evidence would help keep Denyer behind bars forever and she told the prosecutor that he was doing a good job.
Janine had to fly back to Sydney on the weekend and was unable to attend the end of the trial on Monday 20 December, but her aunt Bernadette did and so did Carmel Russell.
Over the weekend, Bernadette had done a lot of thinking. Hearing the evidence had upset her terribly. It was the first time since Natalie died that her emotions had run unchecked. In the days following the murder of her niece, Bernadette had been immersed in the many things that had to be done. She had to be strong for the family, helping to organise the funeral and write the eulogy. There were cards and letters to be answered and people to comfort. Bernadette was a nurse and the practical side of her nature came to the fore in the aftermath of the tragedy. During the trial was her time to truly grieve for her lost niece.
One comfort over the weekend was the fact that Judge Vincent seemed such a compassionate man. Bernadette thought that he had kind eyes. During the Wednesday hearing, he took pains to describe things in layman's terms for the benefit of the families, and Bernadette thought that he looked truly disturbed by the evidence. Speaking to a friend over the weekend, she had said with confidence, 'That judge will give us justice.'
On Monday morning, Justice Frank Vincent sat up on the bench and began by sentencing Paul Denyer to life terms for each of the murders and an additional eight years for the abduction of Roszsa Toth. The sentences, he said, would run concurrently.
'The only question which remains,' said the judge, 'is whether a period of imprisonment should be fixed after which you would become eligible for parole. Your counsel when presenting submissions on this aspect, emphasised your youth and the dreadful prospect which you would face if this were not done. He pointed to the views expressed by the High Court in R v Bugmy (1990) as to the care which a sentencing judge must take in predicting an offender's prospects for rehabilitation. He submitted, quite correctly, that we cannot know whether in 25, 30 or at some time beyond 30 years, the fires of your aberrant desires may have been long quenched or whether our understanding of such matters may have progressed to the extent that some solution to the problem which you pose may have been found.
'Unfortunately, I must sentence you now and I cannot abrogate my responsibility to some distant parole board. Recognising the importance of rehabilitation as a sentencing consideration, there are very occasionally situations in which that factor must be subordinated within the confines of a proportionate sentence to the need to protect the public against the truly dangerous.
'The evidence before this court is tragically clear on that aspect. You do constit
ute such a danger, and at our present state of knowledge, apart from separating you from society, there is nothing that can be done about it. Any non-parole period which I fix would have to be very long in any event and calculated without reference to the potential risk which you could then pose. Perhaps there will come a day when you will be able to walk among the ordinary people of our community. Whether you will ever do so must await the passage of years and the decision of the executive government of the time.
'I do not consider that it would be appropriate to fix a non-parole period in your case.'
Emotion was evident in Justice Vincent's voice as he concluded. 'The apprehension you have caused to thousands of women in the community will be felt for a long time. For many, you are the fear that quickens their step as they walk home, or causes a parent to look anxiously at the clock when a child is late.'
After the sentencing, Paul Denyer's lawyer told the court that his client wished to make a statement. There was an immediate barrage of booing from the onlookers in the court.
Bernadette Naughton stood up in the crowded court room and said, 'Let him speak if he chooses; it is his right.' She looked at Justice Vincent who, after deliberating for a moment, nodded in agreement.
From the dock, Paul Denyer turned to the families of his victims and said, 'I'm truly sorry for what's happened. I'll do my sentence and I will become a better person and I will not re-offend. That's my promise to God and to the people of Melbourne.'
Overcome with anger, one of the other relatives stood and said, 'May God forgive you because I never will.'
Carmel Russell shook her head and said quietly, 'No, no, no.' She thought to herself: Your Christmas present to us was taking Natalie; this is our Christmas present to you.
The Frankston Serial Killer Page 23