Confronting Murderous Men, page 26
Sustenance is not enough for able-bodied men who are employed on relief work. They need as much nourishment as men working ordinarily, and if they do a full day’s work they are entitled to an equivalent reward. The time is long overdue for works now done by registered unemployed in return for sustenance to be classified as public works and paid for at full rates out of ordinary public funds. In this way the men would have their self-respect restored, as well as benefitting in pocket.31
Coverley, 39 years of age, was putting aside as much money as he could to support his partner and nine-year-old son and had saved just 30 shillings in silver coin, which he kept in a suitcase. It must have taken him some time to save the meagre amount. Albert France became aware of the money and on 9 May 1940 decided to help himself to it, a task probably made easier because his sister, Lyla, was Coverley’s partner. The following day, Albert France told his brother that he had taken the money from the suitcase and hidden it. They split the money and Herbert Coverley reported the theft to Nannup police. The low act would have ramifications far beyond Coverley’s immediate loss and far beyond anyone’s expectations. The new constable at Nannup would die investigating it.
* * *
Constable Laurence ‘Laurie’ Buzza was born at Sandstone in Western Australia’s mid-west, approximately 660 kilometres north of Perth, on 22 December 1911. He was employed as a carter at Kalgoorlie prior to joining the Western Australia Police Force on 23 April 1936 and was stationed at Fremantle. He and Bertha had married in August 1933.
In 1940, though stationed at Bunbury, he was sent to Nannup to relieve the departing Constable McMahon, who had been transferred to Port Hedland. His return to Bunbury would take place when the Nannup vacancy was filled. He arrived on Saturday morning, 11 May 1940, and became acquainted with outstanding cases his predecessor had left. Firstly, he arrested Albert France and charged him with stealing. Ronald, in the meantime, went to the Nannup Hotel that morning, bought a bottle of beer with some of Coverley’s money, and drank it behind the hotel. He was approached by Constable Buzza about 4 pm and arrested. At the lockup he saw his brother and was told he had been charged with stealing 30 shillings from Coverley. Ronald France heard his brother admit the offence and tell of giving him half of it. Ronald denied receiving the money. He was held on a charge of vagrancy as further inquiries were made.
Ronald France
As Albert France was being processed, Ronald, who was detained in a cell, called for a latrine pan. Constable Buzza took one to the cell and when he opened the door was pushed back against a wall by the prisoner, who ran into the office. Buzza followed, to find Ronald had taken his .38 calibre revolver from its holster hanging on the wall. Buzza chased him around the office desk until France shot him under the right armpit. Albert France tried to intervene but was afraid of being shot himself, although he opened the door for the constable to leave. Buzza made his way to the door and took a few steps. He saw a young man near the gate to the police station and called out to him, ‘Look out! He has just shot me! Get out of the road. He might shoot you!’ Ronald France then fired another shot, which hit the constable in the lower back. He continued to run and made a distance of about 60 metres to Rowe’s garage, where he fell to his knees, telling Roy Rowe that he had been shot. Ronald France ran to Buzza’s car and tried to start it. Failing to do so, he ran off, still holding the pistol. Though in grave peril himself, Constable Buzza focused on the safety of the young man who had strayed into the line of fire.
A doctor was called and Constable Buzza was taken to hospital in a serious condition. He seemed to improve the following day, but an operation was not advised at that stage. His wife arrived from Bunbury on Saturday night and stayed beside him.
Albert France had wisely remained at the station and made no attempt to escape. Constable O’Brien came from Bridgetown to assist and two detectives hurried from Perth. Ronald France had returned to his home, where he hid the constable’s revolver under a rug in a dog kennel. When he heard a car approach he took off into the bush until he saw the police leave. Back at the house he was told by his sister that the police were watching him from a hillside. He surrendered and handed Buzza’s revolver to Detective Lamb, who on inspection found two cartridges had been discharged.
Both men appeared at the Nannup Police court on Monday 13 May, where Ronald France was charged with wounding Constable Buzza to avoid apprehension. Albert France was proceeded with for the theft from Herbert Coverley.
Constable Buzza continued to fight for his life and was not considered fit enough to undergo surgery to remove the two bullets. Taking him to Perth to be X-rayed and to operate on him there was considered, but not done. It was thought the bullet in his back rested near his spine. He rallied at times and was thought to be improving, but relapsed; the father of two young children died on 6 June 1940. He had provided a dying deposition which was important evidence against his killer, who would soon be charged with murder.
A police funeral was held on 8 June and Constable Laurence Buzza was laid to rest at the Karrakatta Cemetery, Perth.
On 22 May, the France brothers appeared at the Nannup Police Court, where they pleaded guilty to stealing 30 shillings. They were fined £3 each and elected to serve out the time rather than pay the fine. Once again, a stupid act by a thoughtless young man seeking to avoid meeting the consequences of his petty thievery had claimed the life of a young officer, husband and father. Buzza was just 28 years old. Such acts are hard to fathom, but social ineptitude, lack of empathy for others, including his brother who would become embroiled in what was to come, and plain garden variety selfishness is what seemed to have motivated him.
* * *
On 25 June, an inquest into the death of Constable Buzza opened at Bunbury Coroner’s Court. Acting Resident Magistrate Smith presided. Roy Rowe testified to having viewed the body of the deceased and identified it as that of Constable Buzza. He also told of being present at the Nannup Hospital on 12 May, with Dr Cole, Sergeant Jury, Detective Lamb and Ronald France when the constable made a dying deposition, which was read to France.
Dr Ernest Green told of conducting a postmortem examination of the constable’s body on 6 June. He told of two bullets being found in his body and that they were the cause of his death. Albert France gave his evidence clearly and in a straightforward manner. Detective Sergeant Albert Blight told of going to the France home, where Ronald France eventually came out of bushland and surrendered. He had claimed he ‘could not get away from the constable so I fired a shot at him. I did not mean to hit him. I thought I could frighten him. When I took the revolver I did not know it was loaded.’ This fanciful account failed to explain the second shot to the constable’s back.
The coroner found that the cause of death was due to a haematoma of the right pleural cavity, consolidation of the right lung and cardiac failure after being shot in two places with a revolver fired by Ronald George France, at Nannup, on 11 May, and that France did unlawfully murder Laurence Buzza. He was committed for trial at the Supreme Court in Perth.
On 3 July 1940, Ronald France stood his trial for the murder of Laurence Buzza. The evidence was as clear as it had been in the lower court; so clear it took the jury just 15 minutes to find the accused guilty. France’s protestations that he hadn’t meant to kill the constable had failed to impress. Did he mean with the first shot, or the second to his back? No recommendation for mercy was made. Mr Justice Dwyer addressed the prisoner: ‘Had it not been for the second flagrant and brutal shot, the jury may have taken a more lenient view. In my opinion their verdict is the only one that can be arrived at.’ He then sentenced him to death.
It is hard to ignore the congruence of events that led to the constable’s death. Malevolence and stupidity were the main reason, but they were coupled with others. Constable Buzza had arrived at Nannup the day he was shot, which may have been the reason he had no clear idea where to leave his service pistol when going to the cell. Even so, it should not have been left hanging on a peg in the station, thereby providing opportunity. Secondly, it is hard to know why he was allowed to linger at Nannup Hospital for almost a month, rather than be transported the 280 kilometres to Perth for specialist treatment. A specialist was consulted and it was considered, but having it put into effect may have resulted in a different outcome.
It took only three weeks for the Executive Council to commute the death sentence to one of life imprisonment. Rather than stemming from a distaste for the death penalty, as five men would hang at Fremantle after France’s commutation, his age would have been a major factor.
His reprieve did not instil in him the sensible approach of his twin brother, who remained at the Nannup lockup when provided the opportunity to escape. Ronald France took his leave of Barton Mill prison camp with 12 others on 16 April 1942. The men had been relocated from Fremantle Gaol, which had been evacuated due to war. Rather than an act of derring-do, the men escaped because the camp leaked like a sieve, 70 men having escaped by 1943, including Albert Dinah and Alwyn Indich, who had featured in the wounding of Constable Waltham in 1938. France was found sleeping in an air-raid shelter in Government Gardens, Perth, in the early hours of 18 April and was taken back into custody. He was released from prison prior to 1949, just in time to make it to his wedding.
Bertha Rose Buzza raised her children alone and lived for 63 years without her husband. She died in 2002 at 93 years of age and is buried with him.
CHAPTER 19
1943
Senior Constable Frederick Edward Jones
Richmond, Victoria
Frederick Jones with his son Edward
Senior Constable Jones, known widely as ‘Snow’ had been a member of the Victoria Police Force for 19 years as 1943 dawned. He was born in London in 1900 and had served in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve during World War I. He had also served in the London Metropolitan Police for two years before moving to Australia where he became a special constable during the police strike of 1923, and after its resolution, became a constable. He and Edith Bessell married in 1925.
Jones was performing supervisory duties on the evening of 1 March 1943 at Richmond, where he had been stationed for seven months. About 8.15pm, as he stood at the corner of Bridge Road and Church Street, Richmond, about 110 metres from Richmond police station, talking to a member of the public, he suddenly fell to the footpath and died. There being no sign of injury; it was immediately assumed that he had suffered a heart attack. Doctor Haywood, who was driving by, attended him and was joined by Dr Grogan. Their examination revealed a small puncture wound under the constable’s left armpit, which they deemed to have been caused by a small calibre bullet. It began to emerge from witness accounts that a shot had been fired from the passenger seat of a passing taxi, which then sped off.
The driver of the taxi, George Costello, told the police that he had picked up a passenger about 7.50 pm on 1 March in Bridge Road. He drove him to a house in Buckingham Street, Richmond, and waited while he went inside. Soon after a young girl approached him and said, ‘Dad does not want him to go out. He is a bit drunk and has got a gun.’
The man came out of the house with a .22 calibre rifle and got back into the taxi, directing Costello to take him to Church Street. They drove along Church Street and over Bridge Road and the man ordered him to turn back. The man put a bullet in the rifle and when almost across Church Street he pointed the weapon out of the window and fired a shot. Costello was then told to speed up and drive to Kew. He was ordered to drive faster and the weapon was pushed against Costello, the man telling him to do as he was told and threatening to shoot him if he didn’t. Costello protested that he had another fare to pick up. The passenger said, ‘If you don’t do as I tell you, I’ll shoot you.’ He then reloaded the rifle.
Costello was ordered to drive at 80 miles per hour. The taxi began to falter and stopped at Balwyn where Costello attended to a fuel blockage. His passenger got out saying, ‘Take it away.’ Costello drove off and had travelled a short distance when he was fired at. He made good his escape and reported to the police.
Enquiries at Buckingham Street revealed the identity of the man to be Norman Morris Searle, a 25-year-old fitter and turner of Stawell Street, Burnley, and that he had come to the house in the afternoon and left a .22 calibre rifle, which he collected later the same day. As detectives made their inquiries at the house, Searle walked past and was arrested. A search with him of a vacant allotment in Freeman Street, Balwyn, the following day recovered the weapon.
Norman Morris Searle. PROV No citation. https://prov.vic.gov.au/about-us/our-blog/chilling-capital-cases-among-newly-opened-section-9-records
Witness Lily Doyle of Balwyn was able to identify the passenger in the taxi who fired a shot. She had seen him as she waited on the corner for a tram. Elizabeth Ashmore and Kathleen Hinton, both of Balwyn, gave accounts of seeing Searle on a vacant allotment near their homes with a rifle in his possession, but he disappeared soon after. Others told of seeing Searle during the day and that he was under the influence of alcohol.
A postmortem examination of Constable Jones’ body confirmed a bullet had entered his left side, puncturing his lung and heart, killing him instantly. He was buried with full police honours at the Fawkner Cemetery on 3 March 1943.
When confronted by the police who arrested him, Searle said, ‘Is it about the copper; how is he?’
Detective Lagoni said, ‘He is dead. How did it occur. Was it an accident?’
Searle: ‘It was no accident. If I had not got him tonight I would have got him another time.’
Lagoni: ‘Why did you shoot him?’
Searle: ‘About six months ago he locked me up for being drunk. At the watchhouse he slapped me in the face and called me something. No-one is going to do that to me and get away with it.’
Witnesses came forward to state that Searle was drinking heavily on 1 March. Others, including two women who saw him at Balwyn, thought he appeared to be sober. He made a statement after his arrest claiming, ‘…I happened to see the constable standing at the chemist’s shop and I fired at him. I saw him fall on the footpath. I meant to hit him when I fired and I knew I had hit him. I did this because I had a grudge against him for calling me a bastard and locking me up.’
An inquest was opened on 15 March before Mr Tingate PM, where evidence was taken leading to a finding that ‘Constable Jones was shot from a moving taxi-cab about 8.12 pm on March 1 when he was on duty at the intersection of Church Street and Bridge Road, Richmond. Death was caused by a bullet wound in the chest, maliciously and wilfully inflicted by Norman Morris Searle.’
Searle was then committed for trial.
At his trial on 20 April before Chief Justice Sir Frederick Mann, Crown prosecutor Sproule KC outlined the case to be presented and told the jury that Constable Jones had died from a bullet fired by Searle, which entered his chest, travelled through his lung and severed the main artery to the heart. Inquiries had been conducted and it had been established that Jones was not the man who had arrested Searle on the occasion he complained about.
Detective Frederick Lagoni was called and gave evidence of Searle’s arrest, their conversation and search for the weapon used, which was produced. Searle had told him that if it hadn’t been for the taxi driver he would never have been apprehended. He had shot at the taxi driver because he knew too much. Answering defence counsel, Lagoni said the accused appeared mentally and physically normal and was sober. He was not unduly perturbed when intercepted. The accused had thought Jones was the constable who had arrested him for drunkenness, but had been mistaken. First Constable William Teitz gave evidence of arresting the accused on 4 May 1941, for drunkenness and at the watch–house Searle had attempted to strike him. On 1 March 1943, the day of the shooting, he saw Searle in the Australia Hotel in Bridge Road, Richmond and Searle had stared at him. Constable Robert Abrahams told the court he was at the Richmond watch–house when Searle was charged on 4 May 1941. He had arrested him for being drunk and disorderly on 15 February 1943. Senior Constable Jones had never arrested Searle.
Searle made his unsworn statement from the dock and claimed he had not intended to murder Jones or anyone else. He had been drinking heavily on the day in question and in the evening was very drunk. He had a hazy recollection of going to a friend’s house on the night to get a rifle as he was going rabbit shooting on the following Saturday (6 March). He had no idea there would be a constable on the corner of Bridge Road and Church Street that night and had no intention of killing him. He only had a vague recollection of firing from the taxi. He may have thought he wanted to frighten the policeman. He also had a hazy idea of firing at the taxi driver later. He had no reason to harm any policeman or anyone else. He asked the jury to believe him as he was not guilty of murder. He was seeking a conviction for manslaughter and so was his counsel.
Despite this, after the judge’s summing up the jury retired to consider their verdict. They returned after one hour and 40 minutes and declared the accused guilty of murder. The Chief Justice asked Searle if there was any reason he should not pass sentence and he simply shook his head and looked around at his family. The judge was about to pass sentence when the foreman of the jury interrupted to inform him it was the jury’s wish to add a strong recommendation for mercy. The judge snapped, ‘I wish you’d speak up.’ He told the jury he would pass on their recommendation to the proper authorities. He then sentenced Searle to death. As he left the dock one correspondent observed he showed signs of collapse and needed to be helped down by a warder.
