Authors: Johanna Nicholls
Marmaduke arrived at the Supreme Court dressed in sober black in respect of his civic duty. He had barely taken his seat in the jury box when he began to feel trapped. Sweat trickled down his forehead and under his stiff collar. All the windows were closed and the air was stifling. The courtroom was filled to overflowing with spectators and it was clear Leech and Barrenwood had attracted a vocal faction of once-and-future convicts. The majority were so rough and belligerent they looked as if they had just been landed from a convict transport. The smell in the room was rank, like a soup of beer, tobacco, garlic and unwashed bodies.
Marmaduke glanced around at his fellow jurors. Twelve Good Men and True. All apparently sober and upstanding citizens. Whether they were Old Lags or Came Free, they had one thing in common. All were substantial landowners. Land was the ultimate stamp of respectability. Marmaduke had joined their ranks thanks to Mingaletta, but how ironical for him to be sitting here in judgement â a killer who had been found Not Guilty of murder.
As he studied the two prisoners standing in the dock Marmaduke tried to banish the gut reaction to the lurid newspaper accounts of Rupert Grantham's murder. Both looked like ordinary young boys. James Leech, a former London mariner, was a head taller than the pale
and weedy Will Barrenwood, a former chimney-sweep. The pair had been transported on the same convict ship.
Marmaduke's eye was repeatedly drawn to Leech's handsome face, flawed by a heavy jaw and fleshy sensual mouth. He radiated an aura of leadership â yet also a sense of suppressed rage.
The opening words were read out. âJames Leech and Will Barrenwood stand indicted for that they, not having the fear of God before their eyes, but being moved and instigated by the Devil...did shoot one Rupert Grantham, inflicting on his left breast a mortal wound, of which he then and there died.'
Both prisoners pleaded Not Guilty, Leech in a voice of authority.
Marmaduke remembered Edwin's covert warning that some aspects of the case might have been âarranged'. His suspicions were aroused when the legal status of the prisoners' barrister was challenged. The court was told his name would be erased from the list of Barristers of the Court â
after
the trial.
Surely all prisoners are entitled to proper counsel. The charge is murder â not picking pockets. This isn't a kangaroo court.
Marmaduke listened intently to each witness, determined to divorce himself from an emotional response to graphic details of the autopsy and his friend's corpse.
If only I'd ridden out with Rupert that Sunday, he might well be alive today.
Marmaduke was conscious of his dilemma. Weighing against his instinct to avenge Rupert's death was the reminder that he was now a Mason.
I vowed to see justice done and to uphold the law of the land. So what if these blokes aren't
guilty? What if those wild conspiracy rumors are true and Rupert's assassination was a plot engineered by powerful enemies?
The Prosecution's star witness was an eighteen-year-old bolter, Paul Brown, who had accompanied the accused pair but escaped a murder charge by turning King's Evidence. His nervous testimony drew raucous, angry catcalls from the large sector of partisans supporting their hero James Leech.
Brown described how the trio had been âin the bush', a colloquial term for bushranging. Armed with musket, powder and
cutlass, Leech was clearly the trio's ringleader. Brown was the organ-grinder's monkey.
Marmaduke grew tense at Brown's description of the morning of Rupert's murder. How the trio had âamused themselves' firing at a target on a Red Gum tree.
The court was hushed as Brown recounted his first sighting of Grantham. âA gentleman on a white horse rode up to us and dismounted. He asked Leech his name. Leech answered, “I am a man!”'
Leech basked in pride at the murmurs of approval from the rabble faction.
Paul Brown was intent on playing the innocent. âLeech told Will Barrenwood to fetch the musket. I tried to talk them out of it. It would be better to receive a Bob, fifty lashes, than risk our lives. The gentleman's horse was prancing back, terrified. Leech walked up to the gentleman, presented the piece and fired. The gentleman said, “Oh God, I'm killed”. The white horse bolted.'
Marmaduke envisaged the whole murder scene in his mind. He felt icy cold, stunned when Paul Brown continued his litany as if nothing untoward had happened.
âWe were on the run from the traps for five weeks. Crossing a river Barrenwood nearly drowned but Leech swam after him and saved him.'
Leech's partisans cheered their hero.
Crucial evidence was given by the mounted police constable who had been confronted by Will Barrenwood. âI told him to consider himself my prisoner. I then began bouncing him.'
Marmaduke knew the term bouncing could mean either advised, hustled, tricked, scolded or bullied. He was convinced only half the story was being revealed.
â
Barrenwood pointed to the two men in the bush and warned me Leech would shoot the first man to try to arrest him. When I apprehended Leech and Brown they readily surrendered. Later Barrenwood admitted he knew all about Mr Grantham's murder and if he had a chance to turn King's Evidence he would tell all.'
James Leech gave a bellow of rage at this proof his shipmate had betrayed him. Leech's supporters booed and threw missiles at Barrenwood.
Marmaduke sensed all Hell was about to erupt when James Leech dismissed his barrister. His eyes were feverishly bright as he began to conduct his own defense. Leech stated he had four witnesses willing to testify that he was elsewhere on the day of the murder. His agitation escalated when three of his witnesses failed to appear. His mood grew confident once more when his fourth witness, Patrick Finlay, took the stand.
Finlay avoided all eye contact. His replies to Leech's questions were tight-lipped. âI disremember anything of that day.'
Leech's eyes narrowed but his tone was determined. âCome now, Paddy, you have nothing to fear from your master, Morden. Speak up like a man. No harm can come to you. Were not I and Paul Brown in your company that day?”
Finlay was adamant. âI never in my life saw you and Brown together. You were
never in my company.
'
Leech had a violent change of mood. He whirled around to face the Chief Justice, jury and spectators in turn.
âYou see? He's afraid to speak the truth on my behalf. No witnesses present in court. No one willing to come forward for me!'
The court was in an uproar. Marmaduke kept his eyes fixed on Leech, trying to gain the key to the young man's psyche.
One of these two is lying. And I wouldn't trust the King's Evidence rat as far as I could throw him. I can't condemn Leech to hang unless I'm bloody sure he's guilty.
Leech was inciting the spectators to fever pitch. The guards looked ready to spring as the Prosecutor began his emotive summary.
âThis act of assassination against Mr Rupert Grantham, one of the most celebrated and respected men in the Colony, has set a terrible precedent. No landholder can ever again feel safe from the threat of assassination at the hands of vengeful bolters.' The barrister gestured directly at the jury. âWithout a shadow of a doubt James Leech and Will Barrenwood murdered Rupert Grantham in cold blood. Do your duty, gentlemen. Bring in a verdict of Guilty.
Marmaduke led his fellow jurors as they filed into the cramped jury room. He placed his open watch on the table, ready to debate aspects of the case. The other jurymen dismissed the idea and took an instant vote with a show of hands â guilty.
âGentlemen, I feel this warrants further discussion. It seems an act of indecent haste to return a verdict involving the death penalty,' he glanced at his watch, âin less than four minutes.'
âDo you reckon they both murdered Grantham?' the elderly foreman asked.
Marmaduke hesitated. âYes, butâ'
âThen we're all agreed. No time to waste. I've got a business to run.'
The verdict of Guilty was delivered. Marmaduke felt no sense of elation that justice had been done by Rupert. He felt hollow. Three lives wasted.
Called upon to give his statement, Leech's eyes were blazing like a zealot.
âI demand a fair trial!' He pointed at the barrister he had dismissed. âThat bloody old woman was shoved in on us to lead us to our destruction!' He spun around and pointed directly at Marmaduke. âThis jury was biased against me. If I had my gun in hand I'd shoot the pack of you with the greatest of pleasure!'
Leech repeatedly struck the dock with his fists in a violent out-pouring of rage.
Marmaduke was now convinced.
James Leech doesn't belong in this court â or on the scaffold. He belongs in a lunatic asylum.
Chief Justice Forbes was visibly shaken as he placed the black cloth on the crown of his head and pronounced the sentence of Death.
The ruffians who had cheered Leech were on the brink of mutiny. A voice shrieked, âThat bastard landowner Grantham was a tyrant! Leech did us all a favour!'
James Leech broke free and, with the speed of a panther, hurled himself bodily at Will Barrenwood, hammering him with ferocious blows to the head.
It took six policemen to restrain Leech, who was bucking like a wild animal.
Marmaduke watched as Leech was dragged through the dense crowd that choked Hunter Street. Halfway along the short route to the gaol Leech went berserk at sight of the approaching Chief Magistrate.
âStand warned, you bastard. I'll take my vengeance on you before I die!'
Standing alone in the wind-blown street Marmaduke watched the mob milling around the condemned youths on their final walk to the prison, cheering Leech and chanting his name as if he was their leader.
He was forced to face the truth. Rupert's murder proved that now no man, no matter how powerful, was safe. The underbelly of the Colony was taking its revenge.
In a quiet room at the Princess Alexandrina Hotel Marmaduke sat drinking with Edwin, exchanging their strangely parallel experiences of the day â both had ended in an execution.
Marmaduke was unable to erase the face of James Leech from his mind and Paul Brown's testimony of Leech's strangely disturbing words â â
I am a man!
' â uttered just before he murdered Rupert.
âThere's no shadow of a doubt in my mind that Leech fired the shot that killed Rupert. But I've no way of knowing if a surgeon would diagnose James Leech as clinically mad â or mentally unbalanced. Although illiterate he's far from unintelligent. He made a better fist of his defence than his half-baked barrister. Sorry to criticise one of your fraternity, Edwin.'
âFeel free. You were there. I was not.'
âLeech has the kind of animal magnetism that attracts weaker lads to follow him. I can't escape the feeling there's far more to this crime than came out in court.'
âSome men are born with blood-lust,' said Edwin. âLeech has a history of violence. Since he was transported here he's been found guilty of two counts of violent assault. The second attack, on a wealthy landowner, Morden, landed him in an iron-gang for twelve months. He escaped a week prior to Rupert's murder.'
Marmaduke was stunned. âMorden! That name was raised in court. A convict assigned to Morden was called by James Leech to provide him with an alibi at the time of Rupert's murder. But the witness flatly denied it.'
Edwin nodded. âWitnesses often renege due to fear, coercion or a bribe. But it might have been the truth and he refused to provide Leech with a false alibi.'
âWhat do you think, Edwin? This was no random murder. Either Leech harboured a personal grudge against Rupert. Or his desire for revenge was fuelled by Rupert's enemies, who wanted him dead. Maybe men in high places promised Leech an alibi if he did the deed, then betrayed him.'
âWe're never likely to know. The law is taking no chances of the rabble engineering his escape. Leech and Barrenwood are to be executed by midnight.'
Marmaduke pulled the pocket watch from his waistcoat. âHalf of seven. Not long for a man to make his peace with God. Chief Justice Forbes refused them a stay of execution.'
His voice was bleak. âIt's only taken us forty-five years to turn this God-given land into a penal colony where scaffolds and flogging posts spread across the landscape like the plague.'
Edwin refilled their glasses. âI wonder if future generations will condemn us?'
âGod only knows, mate. But I reckon I've got my time cut out trying to deal with
my
generation. This trial really bounced home the truth. James Leech did far more than escape from an iron-gang and murder a powerful man. He declared war on the whole rotten System. No landholder is safe from some escapee who sees himself as an avenging angel â ready to forfeit his own life to send a member of the Ruling Class to Hell ahead of him.'
Edwin nodded. âI take it you are concerned about your father's reputation for turning a blind eye to his overseer's brutality?'
âYeah. Garnet's a rogue and I've been at war with him since the cradle but that doesn't mean I'd stand by and see him butchered. At first light I'm heading back to Bloodwood to put security measures in place. I've got Isabel to protect â and very soon little Rose Alba. Have you found a record of her birth?'
âNothing in the English parish records, I'm told. Legally she doesn't exist. But don't worry, old chap. I'll make her adoption watertight.'
Marmaduke hesitated before raising the question he had tried to avoid for weeks, the threat to his pride and independence. Money. âYou know how I hate banks, Edwin,' he began. âI'd rather swim across the Tasman to New Zealand than borrow money from Garnet. Well, the thing is, I'm beginning to wonder if I can get Mingaletta up and running without a loan.'