Beyond Reasonable Doubt?, page 4
Having spent many weeks in Pukekawa I would endorse every single word of that. The great pity is that neither Bruce Hutton nor the men working under him in the CIB adopted such an approach in Pukekawa.
The same week that Roddick made his statement, the police asked him to come up to the Chitty farm. One of the places they were using as a control base was the cottage that Roddick refers to in his statement. Situated on the edge of the Chitty property and virtually opposite the Crewe farm with Highway 22 bisecting the two farms, it was ideal. It was a measure of the goodwill that the local farmers felt that men like Ron Chitty and Ian Spratt happily gave the police use of such buildings. Perhaps if these men had witnessed the treatment handed out to Bruce Roddick during his second interview they might have thought twice. They took specimens of his fingerprints. They asked him to account for his movements, minute by minute from the Wednesday of the previous week. They asked him what girlfriends he had. When he told them that he did not have a current girlfriend they asked him if he was homosexual. They thought it odd that having reached the ripe old age of twenty-four he was still unmarried. They asked him if he had ever slept with a girl. It was not just the questions, it was the heavy manner of the interrogation that shook Roddick. It also shook his parents when they saw their distressed, disturbed and distraught son return home. What they felt then was still clearly evident when I interviewed them. Mr Roddick recalled:
‘When Bruce came back home the police descended on our farm. They stripped his car, a Standard Ten. I told them, “Don’t be bloody silly, the lad can hardly get into it himself. Where do you think he put the bodies, in the glove compartment?” There was an old blanket on the passenger seat. Mum used it to protect her clothing when she was in the car. They got very excited about that, didn’t they, Mum?
‘ “Oh yes,” one of them started shouting, “it’s got a bloodstain on it. Look, it’s covered in blood.” I said to him, “Don’t be silly, that’s raspberry ice cream. I dropped it on the blanket some time ago.” You could tell just by smelling the stain. No, they were sure it was blood. Took it away for forensic tests. When they eventually brought it back I asked them what the DSIR had made of the stain. “Oh, it’s raspberry ice cream” I was told.’
While Bruce had been getting a verbal third degree up on the Chitty farm Myra Lindbergh, a local woman that Bruce also worked for, walked in with tea for the police. Seeing Roddick there she exchanged a greeting, then smilingly remarked, ‘Oh, they’ve finally caught up with you have they, Bruce?’ This led to Myra and another woman being taken home by the police and subjected to heavy questioning along the lines of, ‘Has he ever attempted to sexually assault you?’
I can see a logic in treating the young man who came forward to help the police as a suspect. As Bruce Hutton said to me:
‘Oh, you’ve got to. When there is no apparent motive. When there is no apparent suspect. At that stage you treat these sorts of people as suspects. That type of murder can just be something out of the blue. Something happening at the gate. You know, farmer telling some car wreckers to get on their way and all of a sudden it’s on. That can happen.’
Indeed it can and does, but what is not justifiable is to alienate in this way the people who are being questioned. In many respects the CIB investigation in Pukekawa resembled Apaches running wild. Nevertheless, despite police methods rather than because of them, the police had been given by Roddick a vital and crucial piece of evidence as they considered the puzzle of Rochelle Crewe. The second piece of crucial evidence was not long in coming.
As a result of Bruce Roddick’s statement, Bruce Hutton, while putting Roddick on his list of suspects, moved very quickly on the information that the young farmworker gave him. At 2 p.m. the same day, Rochelle was entering the consulting rooms of Dr Thomas Fox. Dr Fox at that time had had some thirty years in the medical profession. His speciality is childcare. Accompanying Rochelle was Mrs Willis, the woman who had been looking after the child since she had been found the previous day. With them was Detective Sergeant Mike Charles. This particular policeman, like Bruce Roddick, has ample cause to rue his involvement with this case. But that was in the future. On 23 June 1970 the purpose of the visit was to seek Dr Fox’s opinion on two questions:
1. ‘Had Rochelle been left unattended from Wednesday 17 June 1970?’
2. ‘Could she have survived unattended during this period?’
I have deliberately broken off from my narrative of the investigation in Pukekawa because I consider and have considered from the outset of my research that those two questions are absolutely central to ‘The Thomas Case’. For nearly eight years now this case has been debated and argued in homes, offices, farms, hotels, bars, and the Courts of this country.
Accusations of police malpractice have been countered with accusations of intimidation of Crown witnesses. There have been accusations about the planting of evidence. Accusations of phone bugging. Accusations of perjury – both sides have levelled that one at each other. Bruce Hutton has been accused of virtually every crime except starting the Second World War. The DSIR has been attacked. Lawyers, Judges, even the former Minister of Justice Martyn Finlay, all have been the subject of enormous attack. Protest meetings throughout the country. Vivien Thomas talking to a crowded university campus or a packed Auckland Town Hall. Enquiries on television conducted by, among others, Brian Edwards. Enquiries in the press conducted by, among others, Pat Booth. Discussion of cartridge case categories by forensic experts for the defence, like Dr Jim Sprott and for the prosecution by Dr Donald Nelson. Two things have been largely if not totally forgotten. The first is the flesh and blood that today languishes in prison, the man called Arthur Thomas. The second is Rochelle Crewe. These two human beings are linked in a strange, bizarre, awful way. One stands condemned of killing the other’s mother and father. While one flicks through his scrapbooks of press cuttings in Paremoremo Prison, the other has been told that her parents ‘were murdered by a very sick man’. Perhaps they were, but which ‘very sick man’?
What shocked this country about the Crewe deaths was not that two adults were dead, but that a young innocent defenceless baby girl of eighteen months of age had been left in a Kafkaesque situation. Abandoned in a bloodspattered farm in Pukekawa. It shook the country rigid. It was, to use a word I hear frequently in New Zealand, ‘unreal’. It was this aspect, and this aspect alone, that freaked a nation.
Every mother, every father could relate to that little girl. She touched something deep in the psyche of New Zealand. Metal traces of wire. Corrosion of cartridge cases that may or may not have been planted. Ballistic tests on rifles. The history of axles. Trips to Australia by defence and prosecution witnesses to determine how ICI make bullets and cartridge cases. Talk of a bullet called 1964/2. Switching of exhibits in the Supreme Court of Auckland. How circumstantial evidence should be considered by a jury. Does the burden of proof always rest with the Crown? All of this and a great deal more were as nothing and are as nothing to the average member of this good and gentle country. But talk to a farmer in the Waikato. Or a housewife in Remuera. Or a bridge-playing lady in Lower Hutt. Talk to any of these as I have done. It will soon become clear what disturbs them about ‘The Thomas Case’. Again and again it comes back to the same question: ‘Who fed that little baby?’
I have heard many noble and distinguished judges talk to juries about common sense. Judges prize, above all else, the common sense of what they are pleased to call in my country ‘The man on the Clapham Omnibus’. Or what they might refer to here as ‘The housewife in Mount Albert’. That common sense, so rightly prized, is aware that not a single piece of evidence has been adduced that links Arthur Thomas with feeding Rochelle Crewe. The Crown office is equally aware of that fact. As is the man who led the police investigation, Bruce Hutton. That public common sense then rightly deduces, ‘If that baby was fed by someone other than Thomas, that means an accessory after the fact of murder is walking free in this land.’ It is an inescapable conclusion. For the police, the politicians, the retrial committee, investigating journalists it has become something they would rather not consider. I find that a nonsense. Because of that I determined that if I resolved nothing else I would resolve this issue:
1. ‘Had Rochelle been left unattended from Wednesday, 17 June 1970 until 1.30 p.m. on Monday 22 June?’
2. ‘Could she have survived unattended during this period?’
What follows is Dr Fox’s report, verbatim:
PREVIOUS HISTORY OF ILLNESS:
No information was available.
BIRTH HISTORY:
Rochelle was thought to have been her mother’s first pregnancy. She had been born at Pukekohe. No details were available as to her birth weight and general development of childhood skills.
According to a verbal report from the maternal grandfather, she had been ‘walking’ for three months (possibly from March 1970).
FAMILY HISTORY:
No details available, although as far as was known, the parents were healthy.
The history was that Rochelle had been found by her maternal grandfather Mr Demler in her cot at 13.30 hours on 22 June 1970. She was said to have been crying and whimpering as the grandfather approached the house, but to have stopped as he went to the cot side. Her eyes were said to have been ‘sunken back’. Mr Demler took her by car to the home of Mrs Willis at 14.30 hours.
On arrival at the residence of Mrs Willis, she was sitting on a blanket in the car. Mrs Willis noted ‘a dreadful smell, that the child was very cold and shaking, that Rochelle just clung to her for the following two hours, that her eyes seemed sunken, that the whites of her eyes were bloodshot, that she was frightened and shocked, that she did not seem sick and that she was not desperately ill.’
The odour was dreadful and due to bowel motion.
The child was dressed in a woollen singlet and winceyette pyjama top. She was wearing two napkins, covered by domed plastic pants. The napkins were soaking wet, while the bowel motion was foul, dry and dark brown. The area of skin covered by the napkins was inflamed and blistered in parts. In answer to questions, Mrs Willis suggested that the napkins may not have been changed since Friday 19 June 1970.
Mrs Willis gave her a meal of lightly boiled egg, one finger of bread, one tablespoon of ice cream, one slice of peach and a ‘marmite jar’ of milk (4-6oz). Rochelle seemed ravenous and repeatedly indicated her desire for more milk, which Mrs Willis withheld. The child then vomited what seemed to be all the meal.
From the time of arrival at the residence of Mrs Willis at 14.30 hours until 18.30 hours Rochelle may have taken one pint of milk (20oz). At 18.30 hours she was put down to sleep with a bottle containing 8oz milk which she drank and retained.
At 22.00 hours she was changed and her napkins were soaking wet.
As far as can be ascertained, the child may have taken and retained approximately 24-26oz of fluid. She had no further fluids during the night.
At 07.00 hours, Tuesday 23 June 1970 she was picked up. She took 4oz of milk with one teaspoonful of added glucose, but refused toast. Between the hours of 07.00 hours and 14.00 hours, the time of interview, she took 5-6oz of milk on five occasions – a total of 25-30oz. During this same period she clung to Mrs Willis and was unwilling to be left alone.
During the interview, Rochelle appeared to be very apprehensive. She moved little, preferring to cling to Mrs Willis.
On physical examination Rochelle was of good build and well covered. The tone of her skin and muscles suggested that she had recently lost one to two pounds in weight. A marked napkin rash with some blistering was evident. This rash was in marked contrast to her general standard of care. No bruising or other abnormalities were found. Her weight was 271b 5oz.
COMMENT:
1. At the time of this first examination, the child had been in the care of Mrs Willis for twenty-four hours (14.30 hours Monday 22 June 1970 to 14.00 hours Tuesday 23 June 1970).
2. Mrs Willis appealed as a very intelligent, experienced, observant, affectionate person.
3. The details of the child’s intake of food and liquids given by Mrs Willis and the fact that the child had not been regarded as ill suggested that Rochelle had been without normal care for a maximum of seventy-two hours, the more likely period being forty-eight hours.
4. The description of the contents of the napkins and the napkin rash were consistent with the child being left unchanged for forty-eight hours and possibly seventy-two hours.
5. On the basis of these assessments, the child had been unattended and without food or drink from either:
14.00 hours Friday 19 June 1970.
14.00 hours Saturday 20 June 1970.
The latter date, 20 June 1970 is the more likely.
After further consideration, the writer approached Detective Charles at 08.30 hours on Friday 28 June 1970 regarding a further examination (sic) of Rochelle in the company of Mrs Willis. It seemed possible that any improvement or otherwise in the child’s general condition, weight and napkin rash might assist in assessing the duration of the period she was without attention, food or fluid.
At the time of this second interview and examination at 11.00 hours on 26 June 1970 a period of sixty-nine hours had elapsed (approximately three days).
Mrs Willis was able to itemize the child’s intake of ‘solids’ and fluids and without giving the detail, the totals were somewhat less than average for her size and age.
The napkin rash had almost completely healed. Her weight had increased by 12oz from 271b 5oz (on 23 June 1970) to 281b 1oz. Her general muscle tone was comparable with that at the first examination and this may well be normal for Rochelle. She was a happier child in every way.
The improvement in her condition was regarded as consistent with the previously expressed view that Rochelle had been unattended for approximately forty-eight hours with a maximum of seventy-two hours prior to 14.30 hours on Monday 22 June 1970.
The search of literature for further information is to continue. Any relevant material will be brought to your notice.
In considering the period of survival without food or liquids in a well (sic) child of eighteen months, the following factors are relevant:
1. No literature on this subject has yet been found, despite a diligent search.
2. The situation has not been encountered previously in an otherwise normal child.
3. Rochelle was probably a robust child.
4. She probably spent a great deal of the time sleeping and thus conserving her resources of fluid and calories (energy).
5. Being confined to the cot, her activity would be less than usual with reduced losses in energy and perspiration.
6. She was moderately well clothed in an average cot inside a house.
7. The colder atmospheric temperatures would reduce fluid losses by perspiration to a minimum while her good nutrition could withstand a substantial period of deprivation of energy intake in food.
In the absence of previous experience of similar cases and informative literature on the subject, it is difficult to assess the likely period of survival of an otherwise well child of eighteen months of age, deprived of both (sic) calories (energy) and fluid.
A child such as Rochelle, living under the conditions outlined above might survive five days, but she would be seriously ill at the end of that time. (MY ITALICS)
T. G. FOX
Doctor Fox was in no doubt, in his very experienced mind, that Rochelle had been fed in that five-day period. Among other factors that he had borne in mind was that the child Rochelle had remained in her cot throughout that period.
If he had been given access at the time of his examinations to the statement that was already in police hands from another Pukekawa resident I believe that his opinion would have been even more assertive. The resident in question was Queenie McConachie.
On the day after Bruce Roddick had seen a woman, Queenie McConachie saw a child. This was at 1.30 p.m. on Saturday afternoon. Forty-eight hours before Len Demler walked into that farmhouse. The child that Mrs McConachie saw was wearing identical clothes to those worn by Rochelle on the Wednesday morning when Thirryl Pirrett visited her parents. The child was down by the front gate near Highway 22, when Mr and Mrs McConachie drove by. Mrs McConachie was at that time pregnant and had more than a passing interest in young children. She turned as the car went by and watched the child toddle up the path to the Crewe farmhouse.
While Inspector Hutton delegated various officers to specific tasks, one to search the house and make a full inventory, another to take charge of all exhibits, the search for more information on Rochelle continued. A second specialist was consulted, Dr Ronald Caughey, but this man’s examination of the young girl did not take place until Dr Fox had seen her twice. Indeed Dr Caughey’s examination did not take place until 1 July 1970 – nine days after Rochelle had been found. The police promptly suppressed Dr Caughey’s report. The Crown Office in Auckland also suppressed his report or any knowledge that such a report existed throughout the whole period of lower Court hearing, first trial and appeal. Those who naively consider that Arthur Thomas had been accorded two fair trials might ponder on that suppression. It was one of a great many. In due course during the second trial in 1973, nearly three years later the fact that Dr Caughey had examined the child became known. His conclusions will be examined when the second trial is discussed in this book. Suffice to say here that Dr Caughey disagreed with his eminent colleague. He felt Rochelle had not been fed.
In September 1970 the police consulted Professor Elliot for his view and opinion on whether or not Rochelle had been without food or fluid for a five-day period. Like Dr Caughey’s report that too was suppressed. In the case of Professor Elliot’s report the suppression continued until Auckland Star deputy-editor Pat Booth came upon it by accident in December 1976 and drew the public’s attention to it in 1977. Seven years later.
