Confronting Murderous Men, page 4
On 6 December 1923, Smith appealed his sentence before the Full Court of Victoria, comprising justices Schutt, Mann and McArthur. Mr Gunson appeared for Smith and outlined that the appeal was mainly based on the severity of the sentence, which was not proportional to the crime. He appealed against the five years gaol and 10 strokes of the birch. Mr Justice McArthur, in his report, stated that Smith appeared to be calm and unconcerned while giving evidence at the trial. When the sentence was being delivered, the judge said on the evidence and the evidence of Smith’s statement, the jury would have been justified in finding him guilty of deliberate murder. The court had to indicate that promiscuous shooting by men and boys had to be stopped.
Mr Gunson responded by outlining that Smith had been trained in his early youth in a reformatory and did not know the exercise of parental control. He was regardless of the consequences of his act and could not form a proper judgement. He should be serving his sentence in a reformatory. Mr Justice Schutt said it was the duty of the governor of Pentridge to consult with the proper authorities on the question whether a person under 17 years could be recommended for transfer to a reformatory. The appeal was dismissed. The birching was carried out on 17 December 1923. Eleven days later he was sent to the Bayswater Reformatory.
Chief Commissioner Nicholson had indicated publicly that if the family of Constable Delaney agreed, he would recommend him to be posthumously awarded the Valour Badge. Michael Delaney, his father, declined the offer, stating that his son had done no more than the average police officer was required to do. This was a harsh assessment and after entreaties by family members, in 2018 the Valour Badge was awarded. This is significant, as it was important to Joseph Delaney that ‘his people’ should know that he died bravely. His bravery was undisputed, and he did die bravely, something he had seen much of during warfare. He had been shot from behind, some of the shot entering his left elbow and tracking to his spine at the neck. It is probable he was shot when he turned to his left when challenged by Smith, who was behind a door. He was undoubtedly ambushed and maintained his composure while suffering a mortal wound and twice asked that ‘his people’ know he died bravely. His people may have been his family, his police colleagues, or both.
CHAPTER 3
1924
Constable James Phillip Flynn
and Guy Chalmers Clift
Cordeaux Dam, New South Wales
Guy Chalmers Clift
James Phillip Flynn
The Cordeaux River was named for William Cordeaux, patriarch of the family who came to Australia in 1818, to take a position in the Commissariat Department of New South Wales. He and his family lived and farmed for many years in the area that would carry their name. The Cordeaux Valley settlement that had thrived for years had long been earmarked as a source of water for Sydney and its regions. Its demise would come to pass with plans to dam the perennial Cordeaux River. Land was progressively resumed by water authorities and work on the Cordeaux Dam began in 1918.
On 3 August 1917, a temporary police station was established at the dam site in much the same way they had been during the gold rush days, serving the needs of a mercurial workforce. By 1924, 500 men were employed at the site and an estimated 900 people made up the community. Single and married quarters were provided for a nominal rent and had electric lighting and running water. Mess huts and washhouses also met their needs. The Camden News3 described the scene: ‘Buildings of the town are a curious mixture of architectural haphazardness. Cosy bungalows, strangely mingle with iron dugouts and bag huts. Bark humpies range in solemn contrast to neat cottages.’
Mail was received twice a day, and the telegraph was available to everyone. All branches of trade were present and a doctor and dentist were on call. The police station would be gone by August 1926, when the dam was completed.
Constable James Flynn had not yet served three years in the police force, having joined on 4 July 1921, from Lithgow in the central west of New South Wales, where he had worked at the railway station. He was sent to Cordeaux Dam; not a wild town as the diggings once were, probably because alcohol was prohibited on the site. His limited experience would not prevent his placement there in May 1923, when he settled into the location, becoming familiar with the workers and management. He knew the resident engineer in charge, Guy Chalmers Clift. Among the workers he knew William George Gordon Simpson, who was employed as a driver and mechanic, and whose duties included driving the payroll from the railway to the paymaster, fortnightly on alternate Thursdays.
On Saturday evening, 8 March 1924, Simpson had been drinking, a fact confirmed by a bus driver who had handed him a bag of liquor of varying types. He made his way back to the dam site and his lodgings and by his own account continued to drink.
Later that night, Joseph Wilcox was asleep in his house and was awakened by a noise. He went to another room and found Simpson leaning on a windowsill. Wilcox pushed him back and he fell into a gutter and walked in the direction of the works garage. Early in the morning Wilcox was again awakened, this time by his wife, who alerted him to someone striking matches in the house. He went to a room and saw Simpson leaving, without his boots, which he had left on the verandah.
Alfred Blair, a compressor driver who shared a room with Simpson, was woken by him early on the morning of 9 March. To Blair he seemed to be either drunk or stupid. About 1 pm that afternoon he went back to the room and found Simpson there asleep. Clift came in and seeing him said, ‘Don’t wake him. When he wakes tell him to come and see me at 2 o’clock.’ Simpson didn’t go to see Clift, but waited until Clift returned with Constable Flynn, who arrested him. Simpson’s strange behaviour in the early morning and the night before had shone a light on him as the person responsible for breaking into the paymaster’s office. Paymaster Edgar Taylor went to his office about 1 pm that afternoon and found the bottom half of the office window broken. A pistol and cartridges were missing from a drawer, although an empty magazine for it had been left. Taylor went to the timekeeper’s room, which was in disarray. The window had been forced and a revolver he knew to be there was now missing.
Simpson admitted to breaking into the offices and stealing weapons when questioned about his movements. It is not known what excuse he gave for doing so, or what he told Flynn he had done with the handguns. He probably claimed he was too drunk to remember. He was searched but not handcuffed; he was known in the small, closed community and it was not seen as necessary. It was said that Constable Flynn bought cigarettes and a drink for Simpson prior to their departure, and this may have been so as it accords with assessments of Flynn’s nature. Guy Clift got into the driver’s seat of his car and Simpson sat behind him. Constable Flynn sat in the back, to Simpson’s left, and the car was driven off towards Campbelltown. The timekeeper, Thomas Lewis, saw them enter the car and drive away from the dam site.
About 4.45 pm, Timothy Fahey heard three shots coming from the vicinity of Brooks Point Road, Appin, but did not see anyone in the area. William Gibson was riding his bicycle south from Campbelltown to the dam site when on the south side of Appin he noticed a car pulled up at the roadside. A little distance away he saw two women in a sulky. He saw a man kneeling on one knee in front of the car and as he approached him the man staggered towards him, with one hand on his stomach. The man (Clift) said, ‘For God’s sake, ride back as quickly as you can and get Constable Porter. We are both shot; the constable is wounded very badly, I think. Ride back for your life and I will follow on if I can.’ Constable Flynn was lying across the back seat, motionless. Gibson started back for Appin, but the car overtook him and he next saw it outside the Appin police station. He saw Clift on his hands and knees on the verandah and went looking for Porter, who was not at the station. As he searched he saw a car with a passenger he thought was Simpson drive past.
James Hunter of Mt Drummond had driven along Cordeaux Dam Road about a mile from Appin when a man tried to board his car but missed the running board. He pulled up and gave him a lift to the Royal Hotel at Appin. It was Simpson.
Constable Porter was located in the street at Appin and immediately went to the police station, where he saw Constable Flynn on the left side of the car in the back seat, with his left arm hanging over the door. He was still breathing faintly. He had a gunshot wound under his right breast. Porter went to the verandah and tried to lift Clift, saying, ‘What’s up, old chap?’ Clift said, ‘Don’t lift me, I can’t stand it.’ Porter said, ‘Who is it?’ Clift gave his name and Porter asked him what had happened. Clift said, ‘Flynn arrested Simpson for breaking and entering a place last night and I was driving him, and about a mile back from Appin, Simpson got hold of a revolver and shot Flynn and then shot me. I think Flynn is dead, and I’m pretty bad. I’ve been hit in the groin. I last saw Simpson on the road about a mile from here. Look out for him, Porter. I think he still has a revolver; he may have shot himself, but I don’t think so.’
Porter arranged for Mr Giles of the Royal Hotel, and others, to take the wounded men to Campbelltown and he went to the post office to ring Sergeant Loftus and headquarters to advise them of what he knew so far. He then saddled his horse and joined Gibson on his bicycle to backtrack along the road to Cordeaux Dam. They had gone a short way when Giles, returning from Campbelltown, pulled up and called, ‘Simpson is at the hotel and Musgrave is watching him.’ Porter entered the car and went with the others to the hotel. As they entered someone said, ‘Straight through, he has just gone out the back.’ Porter ran to the back and saw Simpson walking in the yard. Musgrave, who was a former constable, was walking a few feet from him. Porter, Musgrave and Giles approached and when a few yards away, he turned around and they closed on him. Porter handcuffed him and searched him, but he carried no weapon.
Porter asked, ‘Are you Simpson, the car driver? He replied, ‘Yes. What is the matter?’ Porter said, ‘I arrest you and accuse you of attempting to murder Flynn and Clift.’ Simpson replied, ‘You are making a bloomer.’ He was walked away and said, ‘You have not cautioned me yet,’ to which Porter replied, ‘I haven’t asked you anything yet.’ He was taken to the police station where he was searched. Musgrave found a .32 calibre cartridge in Simpson’s right sock.’ It is probably where he secreted the gun. Porter asked, ‘What are you doing with the revolver cartridge?’ Simpson replied, ‘I had plenty of them a while ago. I know I am a dead man now, and you haven’t got long to live either Porter.’
Constable Flynn had died before reaching the hospital. Soon after, Constable Clark arrived at Appin police station and Simpson asked, ‘How is Jim Flynn?’
Clark said: ‘He’s dead.’
Simpson: ‘No. That’s not right, is it?’
Clark: ‘Yes, I saw him myself.’
Simpson: ‘Jim Flynn dead. Well, I suppose I’m a bloody murderer, but I won’t believe he is dead, not until I see him myself. How is the other bloke, Clift, the boss?’
Clark: ‘He’s pretty bad.’
Simpson: ‘Oh, well, the department will look after his wife and kids, but I’m sorry for Jim Flynn, he was my cobber, but perhaps I did him a good turn, his people will get more from the department than he would get. No, I’m not sorry for Jim Flynn, he’s dead and his troubles are over. I’ve got to go through it now. I’m as good as dead, and it’s hard to think of a white man like Jim Flynn being dead and a rotten mongrel like me alive. I should have shot myself.’
Simpson was taken to Campbelltown Hospital by Porter to be present as Guy Clift made a dying deposition. Porter heard Clift say, looking at Simpson, ‘Yes, that’s the man who shot Flynn and myself. Why did you do this, Simpson?’ Simpson replied, ‘I don’t know, sir.’
Guy Chalmers Clift died in the early hours of 10 March having lost his battle to save Constable Flynn and himself. He had stopped the car when hearing the gunshot and on looking back saw Flynn slumped in his seat. He got out of the driver’s seat and grappled with Simpson, pulling him from the car and struggling with him. Simpson shot him during the struggle, but Clift continued to fight, taking the weapon from him. Medics later found it in Clift’s pocket at the hospital. Despite being seriously wounded, Clift tried to save Flynn by driving him to Appin, though he must have been in great pain.
* * *
Constable Flynn’s mother and father hurried from their Lithgow home to see their son before his body was returned there. Mrs Flynn told the press she had been greatly consoled by the good opinions expressed about her son, which were his due, as he had, from his earliest years, been an exemplary son. She added that her own sympathy went out to the mother of the accused, Simpson.
James Phillip Flynn was buried at Lithgow General Cemetery, Bowenfels, on 11 March, attended by his parents and brother, other family, friends and colleagues. Shops closed their doors as a sign of respect as the funeral cortege passed, led by the police band. Flynn was born at Lucknow near Orange on 4 August 1897, and had lived at Lithgow until he joined the police force. He was a single man who was remembered for his genial nature and his claim not to have an enemy in the world. He was 26 years of age.
Guy Clift was buried the same day after a funeral service at St John’s Church, Camden. A large gathering of his colleagues from the Department of Public Works, family and friends were in attendance. Clift was a native of Maitland in the Hunter region of New South Wales. He attended Maitland High School and earned his Bachelor of Engineering degree at Sydney University. After unsuccessfully offering his services for the war effort, he worked on planning for the Cordeaux Dam, which had stalled due to the war, eventually becoming the supervising engineer of the project. Guy Clift, at 37 years of age left a widow, four young children and his widowed mother, who had lost another son, in France in 1917.
* * *
An inquest into the deaths of Constable Flynn and Guy Clift opened at Campbelltown Court on 21 March, before Mr Payten, coroner. Mr Hayes of the Crown Law Office assisted and Simpson, who was in the dock, remained unrepresented. James Flynn, father of Constable Flynn, and Mrs Clift were present and gave brief evidence. The other witnesses were called and gave their damning evidence. Sergeant Loftus told of a conversation he had with Clift in Dr Mawson’s surgery at Campbelltown. Clift said, ‘We were about a mile from Appin, when I heard a shot, and looking around saw Flynn clutching his chest. I thought his own revolver had gone off and shot him accidentally. I stopped the car and got out and saw Simpson with a revolver in his hand. I pulled Simpson out of the car and struggled with him. He shot me in the stomach. I knocked him down and took the revolver from him. I left him on the ground and I struggled into the car and drove to Appin.’
Detective Sergeant Quinn told of Simpson making a statement to him, after having been cautioned. ‘I have been worried lately. I did not want them to know at the works that I had done time. For the past two or three months I have been paying a digger £4 every pay to keep his mouth shut. Last week two men came from Sydney and wanted to know how I took the pay out to the works, but I wanted to go straight and I would not have it on. They offered me £20, which I eventually took. They promised to come next Tuesday and something had to be done, so I took two revolvers to shoot myself.’ He would not divulge the names of the two men but claimed he had done prison time with them.
The coroner committed Simpson for trial for the murders of James Phillip Flynn and Guy Chalmers Clift. He complimented the police on the carriage of the case, particularly Sergeant Loftus and Constable Porter, but unfortunately overlooked the role of Giles and Musgrave. ‘Had the arrest not been effected so promptly and the depositions not been taken at once, much unforeseen difficulty would have undoubtedly arisen. It was due to the splendid work of Constable Porter in making the arrest so soon after the tragedy and communicating immediately with Sergeant Loftus, who hastily made arrangements to have the late Mr Clift’s dying depositions taken, the other vastly important evidence could not have been obtained.’ This was no doubt true, but a simple procedural fault would jeopardise Simpson’s trial.
The nagging question about the theft of two revolvers was raised by Mr Coyle KC in his opening address to the jury in the trial before Mr Justice Ferguson on 5 June 1924. The charge dealt only with the murder of Guy Clift. He told the jury the murder was a brutal one, involving the death of two men. Simpson had been employed as a driver on the Cordeaux Dam project and it was his duty to drive the paymaster to Campbelltown and back every alternate Thursday. The theory of the Crown was that the accused ingratiated himself into the confidence of those over him and had planned to secure the £3000 or £4000, which the paymaster would carry on the Thursday following the murder, no matter what stood in the way. He stole two revolvers and some cartridges from the works office for the purpose of his scheme to rob.
The main plan was to steal the revolvers to shoot someone on the following Thursday. He had said that he stole the weapons to commit suicide. ‘Two men had put it to him and had paid him £20 to assist in the robbery of the paymaster and he worried over what he had agreed to do. Simpson, told the police, he had decided to take his own life. Why did he take two revolvers? He could have committed suicide with one. He didn’t need those revolvers to shoot himself, but to use when, in the following week, he intended to rob the paymaster. ’ Coyle said. The question of why two revolvers had been stolen to commit suicide must have played on the minds of others, as it would the jury.
During the trial, defence counsel pointed out that the accused had not been supplied with a true copy of the dying depositions made by Clift and which had been read earlier in the court. The judge agreed it was a most serious omission and ordered the depositions to be withdrawn. This necessitated the recall of a number of witnesses to give evidence of taking the depositions. The trial continued.
At the beginning of the trial, Simpson was represented by Mr W Mackenzie, under assignment, who informed the judge that friends of the accused wished to brief Mr McDonnell for the defence. Simpson told the court that his friends had raised the necessary funds for his defence and that Mr McDonnell was willing to act for him. He asked that the trial be postponed to enable the new counsel to prepare his case. The Crown objected and after some consideration, the judge refused to grant an adjournment. One would have to wonder what friends would have had the money or the interest in seeing Simpson privately represented.
