Perfect Victim (23 page)

Apparently there are a lot more entries made by Caroline before she killed you. In fact, if I am right, I think he said journals to do with the nature of the obsession Caroline had with you. Paul used the word ‘bizarre’ again. He said, ‘The girl depicted in Caroline’s journals is not the Rachel we know.’ I said to Paul that I hoped this didn’t mean your name was going to be muddied in the courts. He said, no that’s not what he was expressing. However the barrister doesn’t want us in the hearing because he doesn’t want the defence to say we have been prejudiced because we are witnesses for the trial. I told Paul that he wouldn’t get your dad in the witness box. He said, ‘We won’t worry about the trial now, just the hearing.’

It is doubtful that it will be made known how you died at the hearing because the forensic scientists have not been called. I told Paul that I at least wanted to go for a short while at the beginning because I wanted to
see
Caroline and more importantly I wanted Caroline to
see
us. Paul said okay, but to be aware it may only be for a few minutes because when the evidence is given we have to leave. The same goes for Manni. He said he trusts we will leave the court room when he nods to us. We will wait somewhere in the Magistrates Court.

This is all over for you, sweetheart, but for us this is still a nightmare. I am very worried for your dad and I am worried for us. He said he is
not
going to be a witness and will just disappear. Now I don’t think I want to put that to the test. He said it wouldn’t pay them to get him in court because he would just get angry.

Paul Ross is going to ask family not to tell us what happens although we may read some of it in the papers.

Your father said, ‘Every day is the same – a nothingness – a blankness just to be lived through.’

We are now off to Manni’s to let him know how you died.

Love, Mum.

1 February 2000, 4.04 a.m.

Dear Rachel,

The first day of the committal hearing was yesterday and now I find I have been dreaming of you, glimpses of the hearing and the coming trial – fading memories in dreams I do not wish to remember. So I came out into the living room about 3.30 a.m. and watched the video ‘Rachel and her sisters’. Now I have just turned on the funeral video. I have wanted to watch it for some time but the opportunity has just not occurred until now. Your dad and a recovered Nanny Joy are asleep and Ashleigh-Rose and Heather are at Grandad Ivan and Granny Susan’s place.

I need to watch the video to connect yesterday’s committal hearing to you. It is as if you have been distanced from this, although Nanny Joy said that, being in the committal hearing, she definitely felt connected to you. We, as you already know, were not allowed to be present at the committal but I did convince Paul Ross to allow us to be present in the court room until the evidence began. And because of an unexpected hitch, Caroline was there for about twenty-five minutes before we left the court.

I’m now listening to Mendelssohn’s
Midsummer Night’s Dream
at the beginning of your funeral.

The court network cleared a space for us because it was a full court and they sat me next to a man I didn’t recognise. He said, ‘Elizabeth, I’m David Reid. I’m sorry you have to sit next to me.’ I answered, ‘I didn’t recognise you. Thank you for introducing yourself.’ I thanked him for his sympathy letter, adding that I could not reply because there was no return address. He said, ‘I would like to speak to you when all this is over.’ He meant everything. He then pointed out the man standing beside Caroline as her psychologist. Paul Ross then interrupted and reminded us to leave shortly because we were trial witnesses.

When we left the courtroom we went and sat with a court networker in the network family room. I needed to feel close to what was happening, Rachel.

Humphrey your cat is playing with an old cane Christmas decoration. He’s a scatty cat. You would have loved him.

I’m now listening to one of the funeral sermons and it is a great comfort.

I am so hot I think I have a fever.

The court announced how you died, Rachel – revealed in full horror the bizarre act and how Caroline kept notes about you and plotted to murder you.

The Balwyn minister is now speaking. He was truly fortunate to know you as a child. He likens you to a butterfly that has been released into the limitless love of our Lord. And he asked, for now, that God forgive those whom we cannot forgive because of our pain and agony.

The film screen has now come forward and they are about to show video clips of you. My darling Rachel. What can I say? You were a delight.

The film has now finished and the final hymn, chosen by Rosa, ‘What a Friend We Have in Jesus’ is being sung. Even Rosa knew how important Jesus was to you. Your Grandad Ivan, Uncle Drew, Cousins Shaun and Ben, Uncle Graham, and your beloved Manni are carrying your coffin through the church to the tears of your family, friends and teachers.

5 February 2000 (I think.)

Dear Rachel,

What I thought would happen has. This week has been so distressing I haven’t kept writing letters to you, but I wish I had because now I won’t be able to recall the moments as they occurred. I have lost the feelings of the present.

I think sometimes these letters are as much for myself as for you, and also for your sisters, for when they are old enough to understand.

Going back to the second day of the committal hearing. Let’s see if I can recall … It was the 1st of February 2000 …

Mike, Nanny Joy, Grandad Ivan and myself drove into the city with Susan. Chris went in by train. I probably should not have watched the funeral beforehand but I really needed to. Then I had a long and very hot bath and walked to the service station to buy the newspapers. Like the day before, the committal hearing was reported in all the newspapers. I almost feel I should list the headings the newspapers used, as Dad had in his novel
Ziggurat
:

Murder notes found

Murder plot in writing, court told

Accused kept notes of kill plan, court told

Family friend plotted to kill teen, court told

Police hunt two more over death

Woman for trial on dancer death

Babysitter faces murder trial

So, Rachel, Caroline was committed to trial on murder. It had been seen from her medical file that she had shown no indication of mental impairment. She simply committed an evil and wicked act.

Back to the events of the day …

Susan dropped Nanny Joy, Dad and I off at William Street in the city, so we did not have far to walk to the Magistrates Court. We met your second cousin Lindsay and Aunty Babe in the court, and Chris arrived soon after. We went to the court network room and refreshed with a glass of water. When we went down to the courtroom it was still closed, and we found ourselves sitting opposite David Reid, Caroline’s father. Her parents are in an impossible position, and I pray for them, for if the role were reversed I feel my soul would be destroyed. How much must one suffer when realising one has given birth to someone who could so wilfully take another’s life?

Inside the court, Aunty Babe, who has emphysema and cannot walk for long periods, came through in her wheelchair and sat in the aisle alongside David who tried to make her feel more comfortable. ‘I don’t need any help,’ she snapped. ‘I’m het up enough as it is!’ I felt sorry for him and almost apologised but they were on the other side of the court. All he was trying to do was help her. She must remember, as I need to, that it was not David who killed you. Gail came in and sat in the back row. And then Aunty Babe got up and walked! What must the man have thought? She went and sat next to my mother.

Then Caroline came in – no, not that quickly – her barrister had not arrived when the magistrate had, so he left and didn’t appear for another fifteen to twenty minutes. So I got to look at Caroline all this time.

She started to write down notes as everybody had said she had the day before, and in view of the revelation from the previous day regarding her notes and premeditated plots, I couldn’t help thinking she was very good at recording everything. She seemed cool and calm – not agitated – perhaps looking self important. Once or twice her eyes gazed over in our direction but she made no eye contact.

I noticed a document being handed over from the prosecution solicitor to the prosecution barrister which was an application for a birth certificate in your name, but not in your handwriting. I wonder if she ever knew you were left-handed. Perhaps she is left-handed herself. I should have noted. We were required to leave soon afterwards.

We only just managed to reach the court network room before I broke down, uncontrollably. Your dad held me in his arms for a long time before we both sat down. The time in the court had affected Dad as well. Writing now, I find it difficult to express our emotions, only to say they were ones of loss – like a
new
bereavement. It was then, yet again, that the drawn-out procedures of the court brought it home to us that we were still very much in the funeral stage of your death. We can never hope to be further along until the trial is over.

I looked out the window and noticed police cars had numbers on their rooftops. I’d never noticed this before and I stopped crying.

When we calmed down we went downstairs to the Salvation Army who said we could use their photocopier to copy some letters we had received from your teachers and friends after your murder. I thought these would personalise you for the prosecution solicitor.

Everything finished about noon and we were suddenly overwhelmed by family, who came in insisting that the trial would be May 1st, and wasn’t that great – exciting, in fact, because it meant we wouldn’t have long to wait. I tried to tell them this would be the arraignment date but they didn’t understand.

Paul Ross and barrister Robert Barry, together with our prosecution solicitor Matthew directed us into a quiet room and said, as we had rightly assumed, that May 1st represented the arraignment date. The trial will probably be some time between August and October.

Later, your dad told me he had started to panic and was shaking.

When we left the court we dropped into the Salvation Army to say goodbye and found Gail Reid there. She was nervous about leaving the court and Lindsay, the Salvation Army officer who had helped in your search, offered to walk her to Flagstaff Station but she did not take him up. They suggested she call a taxi but she wouldn’t do this either. It was odd standing there with her. I didn’t feel any hostility towards her and I wasn’t feeling stressed by the situation. A bystander would never have imagined that her daughter was accused of murdering our daughter.

My God, Rachel, she was on her
own
. I felt so much pity for her, but I cannot take on her welfare any more. Last time I did look where it all ended. I can pray for her though, and pray some friends stand by her, for her sake alone.

We were waiting for Susan at the Salvation Army, but she just hadn’t appeared so we went outside. Still no Susan. She had gone to collect her car, perhaps half an hour earlier, and before long we were being photographed and filmed. I was asked what I thought of the ‘Not Guilty’ plea. I didn’t want to jeopardise the trial. I didn’t want the defence to have any reason to say ‘unfair trial’, so I answered, ‘We’ll just have to wait and see. We were not in the committal hearing because we were not allowed to be. We sat in the court network room. It has been very hard. Could you please respect our privacy?’ We were followed to the end of the street but not harassed. We turned around and walked back in the direction of the court. I noticed Gail walking directly towards us, quite oblivious of our presence so I turned away because I did not think it prudent for the press to photograph us together.

Your father and I felt totally drained, my darling, because we had not had any idea how premeditated your murder was. I have begun to understand why Paul Ross said we were required as witnesses.

Your dad, Chris and I had a quiet afternoon, although by the time we got home it was already three o’clock.

I asked Chris if she was resilient enough to hear the poems I had written to you, explaining they were not properly constructed poems, more thoughts on paper. After a while she was sobbing, and I said, ‘Oh Chris, I shouldn’t have put you through this.’ It was quite thoughtless of me really, considering she had sat through the committal hearing. But she said, ‘No, no, go on.’ But after a few more lines we decided to get some fresh air out on the front veranda …

Rachel, I want to go on now because I feel it important to record this, but it is 1.25 a.m. and I am
so
tired, even though all I have done today is go to church, watch a video with your dad and sister and then literally sleep all afternoon. This week of the committal hearing has really whacked me, and my heavy cold has not helped. But I will continue …

By the time Chris and I were leaning against the front veranda I was crying too. As we were trying to compose ourselves a red van rolled up and a man got out holding a clipboard. He looked very official. I said, ‘Oh no, do you think he is a journalist?’ Chris answered, ‘No, he looks like someone from the Salvation Army.’

This was all in slow motion. It felt like we should have said, ‘Is it a plane? Is it a bird? No, it’s not Superman but a man of some variety.’ Now, don’t get me wrong Rachel, but in all the grief and trauma of the past two days of the committal hearing, what was about to happen was like a Monty Python sketch.

Our eyes were bloodshot and teary as this poor man walked up to the veranda completely ignorant of the events of our day.

He said, ‘Good afternoon, would you like your roof retiled and we’ll give you a free check.’

Chris stopped in her tracks and said, ‘Now’s not the time for roofing. There has been a tragedy in the family.’

And I said, ‘Well, the tragedy happened a year ago and it’s just been renewed.’ (Silly thing to say, really.)