Chapter 3

Clearly, Victorian police were under immense pressure to identify and arrest Mena Griffiths’ killer. Despite the wide net they had cast in the days immediately following her murder, despite following every lead and questioning a huge number of witnesses and suspects, within two weeks newspapers had begun to claim police had failed and the case would remain unsolved. Therefore, the arrest of Robert McMahon was a coup: police were doing their job well, the public no longer had anything to fear, and the press could now applaud rather than denigrate the investigation.

However, there was another reason why police so desperately wanted to make a case against Robert McMahon. On Friday, 21 November – the very day McMahon was brought to the city following his first arrest in Temora – Melbourne awoke to news of another appalling crime. Schoolteacher Mary ‘Molly’ Dean, aged 25, had been brutally murdered.

Molly Dean had spent Thursday evening at the theatre with friends and then caught the train to St Kilda. Unfortunately, she missed the last connecting tram and it was after midnight when she began walking home. It was a walk she had taken many times before, but only 200 metres from the house she shared with her mother and brother, Molly Dean was attacked. She was viciously beaten over the head and one of her stockings was tied tightly around her throat. Molly died in hospital several hours later.

Molly Dean and Mena Griffiths were murdered only eight kilometres apart, but although the stocking around Molly’s neck may have suggested a similarity to the strangling of Mena Griffiths, the great variation in the age of the victims, together with many other differences in the crimes, made it apparent to police that the two murders were unrelated.

Besides, at the time of Molly Dean’s murder, Robert McMahon was in police custody to answer questions about Mena Griffiths’ death. It was impossible for the cases to be linked.

Victorian police appeared confident they had the right man. McMahon had a criminal history, and his name appears to have come up in the days immediately following the murder of Mena Griffiths when authorities turned their attention to recently released prisoners.

***

Robert James McMahon was born in New South Wales in July 18941, one of several brothers in a Catholic family. His profession was variously listed in formal documents as jeweller or electrician, while several newspaper accounts of his arrest refer to him as a motorist or hire car driver. Regardless of any formal training, it seems that by 1930, Robert McMahon had fallen on hard times and was grateful for any work he could find.

The first conviction recorded against him was in 1917, when he was arrested and charged in Kogarah, New South Wales, on multiple counts of stealing, failing to pay costs and possessing stolen goods. McMahon was sentenced to over a year in prison with hard labour. Similar charges were brought against him under the aliases Thomas Montgomery and Robert Whittaker (or Whitelaw). However, in 1923, Robert McMahon was arrested for a far more serious crime.

On 28 May 1923, at approximately 5.30 in the afternoon in the Melbourne suburb of Essendon, Annie Robertson, aged 12 and a half, was sent by her mother to do some shopping in nearby Mount Alexander Road. The Robertson home was in an area known as Buckley Park, a part of the neighbourhood under development: occupied homes interspersed with those still being built. The open ground which gave the area its name was not so much park as barren wasteland, crossed by paths but with no trees, only patches of thorny scrub.

Just as Annie finished shopping, she was accosted by a man who told her she would soon be dropping her parcels. The little girl ignored him and hurried on her way. She met Archie Nation, a boy from her class at North Essendon State School, and as the two stood talking they noticed the man walking past. Annie left her friend and continued toward home, but realised she was being followed. Increasing her speed, she reached the end of William Street, the last well-populated area before the parkland. It was now dark. The stranger caught up with Annie and asked her where she lived. She told him, and he suggested she live with him, saying he had a nice house near Keilor Road. Then he asked her to marry him, and offered money if she would go with him.

Annie refused.

The stranger grabbed her and as Annie started screaming he shoved a handkerchief into her mouth, then threw her over his shoulder and carried her into the bushes. Annie fought and struggled until her assailant hit her in the face, causing her to lose consciousness. When she awoke, the frightened, bleeding girl was able to see the lights of a house and ran for help. The homeowner immediately contacted police and the local magistrate, then took the traumatised girl home. Dr Nathan Dennerstein, a local medical practitioner, examined Annie later that evening, following up with a second check the next day, and then an extensive examination under full anaesthetic on 30 May. His findings were consistent with an attempted rape.2

Annie Robertson gave police a clear description of her assailant, even noting that the hand he put over her mouth to stifle her screams had grease on it, as though the man worked with machines.

Police inquiries were extensive but slow until finally, five months later, Robert James McMahon was arrested in Seymour, 100 kilometres from the city. He broke away from arresting officers but was quickly recaptured and held on a charge of unlawful possession of rabbit traps. This minor charge was enough to hold the suspect and bring him to Melbourne where he was charged with assault with intent to rape Annie Robertson.

McMahon emphatically denied the charge, also refuting several other details of the story put forward by police that placed him in Essendon at the time of the assault. Annie Robertson and her schoolmate Archie Nation were brought in to identify McMahon, but instead of a full line-up of men, the children were asked to choose between dark-haired McMahon and a young, blond, clean-cut constable from Russell Street Police Headquarters. Unsurprisingly, both children picked McMahon.

At this point, police maintained Robert McMahon broke down in tears and confessed, claiming he had been in the middle of a nervous breakdown at the time and didn’t know what he was doing. McMahon denied ever making such a statement and continued to proclaim his innocence. At one point, McMahon told police he’d rather the detective cut his throat than charge him with such an offence.

McMahon was committed for trial and in November, a jury took just under an hour to find him guilty as charged of the attack on Annie Robertson. He was sentenced to seven years hard labour, and Chief Justice Sir William Irvine further directed that McMahon be whipped twice with a cat-o-nine tails, each session to consist of 12 lashes.

McMahon served a full sentence and was released on 17 October 1930, just over two weeks before Mena Griffiths was murdered.

***

Not only did this previous conviction and the timing of his release weigh heavily against McMahon, police also claimed to have spoken to other prisoners who had been in gaol with McMahon. According to their stories, McMahon had said that when he got out he would commit a similar offence. He boasted it would be worse than the Colin Ross case, a reference to an infamous Melbourne crime, the 1921 rape and murder of 12-year-old Alma Tirtschke.3

Detective Henry Carey, one of the police officers involved in the Essendon case, was among the lead investigators of Mena Griffiths’ murder, a fact that may have also contributed to the weight of suspicion falling so heavily onto Robert McMahon.

Joyce Griffiths had described her sister’s abductor as having decayed black teeth with side top teeth missing. Prior to arresting McMahon, police claimed they had been told his teeth were in foul condition and some of his upper teeth had been removed in gaol: McMahon allegedly said it was too much trouble to take care of them.

When McMahon was released from prison on 17 October, it was believed he had intended to head directly to his family in Sydney, however that didn’t happen. Police traced McMahon’s movements up until 5 November when he was seen in Holbrook, NSW (about 70 kilometres north of the Victoria–NSW border) but then lost the trail, leaving the crucial period from 5 to 12 November a blank.

But all that was circumstantial: when McMahon was first arrested in relation to the murder of Mena Griffiths, not one witness identified him and police had been forced to let him go. Days later, a labourer found McMahon’s missing swag – the one he’d denied having – hidden in a shed at the Temora railway yards and immediately reported it to police. The leather kit bag was brought to Melbourne and on 29 November, Detective Bruce delivered it to Charles Taylor, the Government medico-legal chemist. Among the various possessions and items of clothing, several things warranted further attention:

One dirty white shirt with a faint coloured line in it

One dirty white singlet

One small towel

One pair black trousers

One eiderdown quilt measuring three feet x two feet

The chemist found blood stains on the singlet and on the lower front of the shirt, and confirmed the blood was of human origin. More blood – invisible under normal conditions – was detected on the front of the trousers at the ‘fork’ (where the legs meet). The chemist believed attempts had been made to clean blood from the trousers. Additionally, a large section of the towel (about 16 square inches or one square metre) was lightly stained with blood and a small bloodstain was also found near one corner of the eiderdown. No blood or evidence of any kind was found on the other items in the swag.

Witnesses who had previously failed to identify Robert McMahon as the man they had seen with Mena Griffiths now felt sure he was the one. Their initial dismissal of McMahon was understandable as he did not closely match Joyce Griffiths’ horrifying description of her sister’s killer. Not only were his teeth clean (and when first arrested in Temora he was found to be in possession of a toothbrush) but according to one newspaper he was, ‘slim and well-proportioned, with a clear, tanned skin and rather pleasant features’.4 The now-positive identification of McMahon by Joyce Griffiths and a number of other people was a huge boost to the police case.

On 10 December, detectives formally charged Robert James McMahon with the murder of Mena Griffiths. He was remanded in custody and the inquest into Mena’s death was scheduled to take place in less than three weeks.

***

Early on the morning of 30 December, a crowd began to form outside the city morgue in Batman Avenue, eager to attend the inquest. When the doors were opened every available seat was immediately filled, forcing officials to bring in more chairs and benches to accommodate as many people as possible. Nine members of the Griffiths family were in attendance, sitting with Policewoman Ellen Davidson who had provided support to the family following Mena’s murder.

Robert McMahon represented himself. In the lead-up to the inquest McMahon had tried to get legal representation, writing from his prison cell to request assistance from prominent criminal advocate, Mr John Michael Cullity. Cullity, known as Jack or ‘Black Jack’, would later come to be regarded as the ultimate advocate, one of the best defence barristers Victoria ever saw.5 But on this occasion, Cullity was out of the state for the Christmas period and did not receive McMahon’s letter until after the inquest had taken place. At the time, there was no free legal aid in the Coroners Court: McMahon was on his own.

More than 20 witnesses were called over the course of the inquest, beginning with Leslie Griffiths, one of Mena’s older brothers, who broke down and sobbed while giving evidence about identifying his sister’s body.

Next on the stand was Government pathologist Dr Crawford Mollison who had performed the post-mortem examination. Dr Mollison noted there were no bruises on Mena Griffiths’ arms to show they had been tied or held, and his report made no mention of any wounds, bleeding or signs of blood on the body.

When Charles Taylor, the Government medico-legal chemist, was called, his testimony covered the examination of Mena Griffiths’ clothing (none of which contained any evidence of blood) and stomach contents, before turning to the bloodstained articles found in Robert McMahon’s kit bag. Taylor informed the coroner there was no sign of blood drips, suggesting the stains had most likely been caused when the wearer of the garments brushed against wet blood. It was also possible the blood could have come from the wearer, for example if he had blood on his hands. In response to a question from McMahon, Taylor stated that he believed the bloodstains on the clothing were recent and had occurred at the same time. Furthermore, the chemist informed McMahon that with a sample of his blood, there were methods for determining if the blood on the clothing belonged to McMahon or to someone else. This analysis does not appear to have been carried out, even though McMahon always maintained he had cut himself badly while shaving and the blood was his.

Taylor explained to the court how he had made a microscopic examination of McMahon’s shirt and singlet, revealing the presence of stains that fluoresced under ultraviolet light. These stains were located in the same area as the blood and, as Taylor noted, fluoresced in the same way as seminal stains. Questioned by the coroner, Taylor conceded that other things – including bodily fluids such as sputum and nasal discharge – would respond in a similar way under ultraviolet light.

Senior Detective Bruce would later claim the Government chemist had told detectives that, in his opinion, the stains on the clothing were caused by ‘a male person having connection with a virgin’.6 This claim did not appear in the medico-legal chemist’s official report, nor was it raised during the inquest. Given the circumstances of Mena’s death, it is easy to see why detectives – or the chemist – might draw such a conclusion. However, it could just as easily be argued that the bloodstains came about as the result of McMahon cutting himself, while the fluorescing stains (which were not definitively identified) could be explained in any number of ways.

***

Other witnesses took their turns in the stand. They included a number of people who had seen Mena Griffiths and her killer on 8 November; the young men who had found Mena’s body; police officers from Ormond and Temora; and Mena Griffiths’ parents, who testified in regard to Mena’s last hours at home and the steps they had taken to locate her.

Mena’s mother, Alice Griffiths, was in tears when she entered the witness box and wept bitterly throughout her testimony. At the completion of her evidence, she was assisted from the chair by Policewoman Davidson, but as she crossed the room Mena’s mother tuned to McMahon.

‘Let me get at him! Let me get at him!’ she screamed, then broke down completely. Policewoman Davidson and a member of the Griffiths family helped her from the courtroom. Alice Griffiths later returned, determined to hear the coroner’s pronouncement.

Carlene Hawk and her mother Lillian, who had been sitting in their car at Fawkner Park on the day Mena walked away with her killer, were called as witnesses. Both women had been taken to view the accused on 11 December, and both positively identified Robert McMahon as the man they had seen accompanying Mena Griffiths on the afternoon of 8 November.

Next to testify was Henry Carlos, the young man who had been on his way to play cricket in Fawkner Park that day. He gave a clear statement about what he had witnessed, confirming that Joyce Griffiths was one of the little girls he had seen talking to the man. Unlike Mrs and Miss Hawk, Carlos had been brought in to identify McMahon following the first arrest in Temora. At that time, he said there was doubt in his mind, that he could not confidently state that the man before him was the man he had seen with Mena Griffiths. But when he returned following McMahon’s second arrest in December, Henry Carlos was certain: police had the right man.

McMahon, representing himself, attempted to cast doubt on Carlos’ statement by pointing out the change from a negative to a positive identification. However Carlos said that at the first viewing McMahon’s clean-shaven face and generally tidy appearance made him uncertain but the second time, when McMahon was dirty and had a beard, his doubts were dispelled.

When asked if he thought he might be making a mistake, Carlos’ answer was an adamant no: this time, he was sure. It was Robert McMahon he had seen with Mena Griffiths.

***

Joyce Griffiths, Mena’s eight-year-old sister, was the next witness called to the stand. Unsurprisingly, the tiny girl was terrified. Members of the Griffiths family, together with two policewomen, tried to persuade her to sit in the witness box but she was crying bitterly.

‘I don’t want to go over there!’ she wailed.

Joyce didn’t calm down until the coroner gave permission for her to give her evidence standing near him on the floor of the room.

In a calm and kind voice, the coroner asked her how old she was and what grade she was in at school before moving on to more difficult matters.

‘Do you know what this is?’ said the coroner, holding up the Bible.

‘Yes, it is the Holy Book,’ answered Joyce.

‘And if you don’t tell the truth after swearing on the Holy Book, what will happen to you?’

‘I won’t go up into heaven,’ came Joyce’s quiet reply.7

Joyce was then taken slowly through the events of 8 November, up until the point where she and her two younger sisters, Daphne and Dawn, went into the lolly shop on Commercial Road, South Yarra. That was the last time she saw Mena.

Robert McMahon was then allowed to sit in front of the coroner and question Joyce. His tone was soft and gentle but nonetheless, it must have been a frightening ordeal for the little girl. Once again, his questions focused on the issue of identification.

‘You saw me at Russell Street police station the first time?’ McMahon asked.

‘I did. But you looked different then.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, you didn’t have dark whiskers on your face like you have now,’ Joyce said.

‘Did the man who took your sister away have dark whiskers on his face?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you remember saying the first time you saw me that I was not the man who took Mena away?’

‘Yes.’

‘But you say I look different now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was the man tall like I am?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you sure I am the man who took your sister away?’ As he asked the question, Robert McMahon leaned forward eagerly, clasping his hands together.

‘Yes, I am sure you are the man,’ Joyce said in a clear voice.

***

Next came another string of witnesses who had observed Mena Griffiths and her killer as they travelled from Fawkner Park to Ormond, or who would simply attest to having seen Robert McMahon somewhere in the city on or about 8 November. The latter included George Virgin, a truant officer and former gaol warden, who had known McMahon some years ago and was certain he had seen the accused man in Richmond some time in the days before 13 November. He did not speak to McMahon and could not pinpoint the date. The station master working at Mordialloc Railway Station claimed to have seen McMahon on the Saturday morning, hours before Mena Griffiths’ disappearance and murder. Although he admitted he was on another platform – and therefore about 20 yards (18 metres) away – and it had been more than seven weeks since that November day, the station master believed that McMahon was the man he had seen.

In fact, every single witness to take the stand swore that Robert McMahon, the man standing before them in court, was the man they had seen. It didn’t matter how far away they had been or how fleeting the glimpse; it didn’t matter if they had previously seen and failed to recognise McMahon when he was presented to them at the police station: all were now positive in their identification.

Witnesses were then called whose evidence, though minor, further damned Robert McMahon in the eyes of the coroner and the public.

Reginald Thorley was a hospital attendant at the Geelong Gaol. During that period, Geelong Gaol was used as a prison hospital, receiving male criminal invalids from a number of facilities including Pentridge. Thorley testified to the dirty state of McMahon’s teeth and the fact that McMahon could not be bothered to clean them.

A senior gaol warden also testified that just prior to McMahon’s October release, the accused possessed a shirt (as well as a number of other shirts), a singlet and black trousers similar to the items that now formed part of the evidence against him. At that time they were clean, with no signs of blood stains.

They were minor points, but each detail helped to build the case against McMahon.

***

Finally, Senior Detective Bruce took the stand.

His testimony began with details of McMahon’s first arrest in Temora. Detective Bruce told the court that in response to the question, ‘Where were you on the 8th November?’ McMahon had said, ‘I was at Leeton’. The small Riverina town is about 450 kilometres north of Melbourne, 550 kilometres west of Sydney, and roughly 150 kilometres away from Temora, the place of McMahon’s arrest.

When questioned further, McMahon gave a detailed account of his time in Leeton, including people he had spoken to and places he had visited. He told detectives he had remained there for about a fortnight before moving on to Griffith, another town in the region.

Detective Bruce explained to the court that police telephoned one of the Leeton businesses McMahon had claimed to visit, but the person they spoke to denied seeing the accused. When confronted with this, McMahon had simply told detectives that he must have talked to someone else in the shop.

Detective Bruce continued his account of the first interview with McMahon:

I said to McMahon, ‘Where is your swag?’ He said, ‘I have none’ … I said, ‘Surely you must have some clothes of some sort?’ He said, ‘No, all the clothes I had I threw away at Griffith.’ I said, ‘But you were seen here in an overcoat.’ He said, ‘I never had an overcoat … all I had I threw away at Griffith.’

The exchange had continued back and forth, with McMahon claiming he had no swag and had thrown away his old clothes in Griffith and Detective Bruce clearly doubting the story.

As Mena’s abductor purportedly had bad teeth, Detective Bruce told the court he had then questioned McMahon about his dental hygiene:

I said, ‘You have cleaned your teeth recently.’ He had a toothbrush with him. He said, ‘I always clean my teeth.’ I said, ‘Up to the 17th October I know that your teeth were filthy.’ He said, ‘I always clean my teeth.’

Detective Bruce then testified, ‘We escorted McMahon to Melbourne where we arrived on the 21st, and after being interviewed he was allowed to go. On that day I handed him a ticket from Melbourne to Temora.’

What Detective Bruce failed to tell the Coroners Court was that when McMahon was brought to Melbourne on 21 November, he was paraded before witnesses: all failed to identify him as the man they had seen with Mena Griffiths.

Instead, Detective Bruce’s testimony moved forward to 5 December, when McMahon was detained at his brother’s business in Sydney and once again brought to Melbourne for questioning. This time, McMahon was confronted with the evidence of his recently recovered swag and the stained clothing within it.

According to Detective Bruce, McMahon’s response was that he had made a mistake in telling the police he had no other clothing, but was adamant the stains were from his own blood; he had cut himself shaving and used the front of the shirt to wipe his chin. McMahon was also told by detectives that further inquiries regarding his supposed time in Leeton had not produced anyone who verified his story. Detective Bruce concluded his testimony.

Other detectives took the stand, corroborating Detective Bruce’s account. There were no further witnesses.

At that point, Coroner David Grant P.M.8 addressed Robert McMahon:

Having heard the evidence, do you wish to make a statement or to give sworn evidence? You are not obliged to say anything or give sworn evidence unless you desire to do so; you have nothing to hope from any promise of favour, and nothing to fear from any threat which may have been held out to you to make an admission or confession; but whatever you say, or if you give sworn evidence, it will be taken down in writing, and may be given in evidence against you upon your trial.

Much to the surprise of the assembled crowd, McMahon said he wished to give evidence, and a hush fell as he made his way to the witness box. He took the oath, stated his name and confirmed that he was a labourer at the time of his arrest but had worked in the jewellery trade, as a motor car driver and in the bush. McMahon then spoke for over an hour. He detailed his movements from the moment he was released from Geelong Gaol on 17 October until his December arrest in New South Wales. Most significantly, he provided a detailed account of his travels after he left Melbourne on 22 or 23 October with the intention of travelling to Sydney. He claimed to have travelled by bicycle through Whittlesea, Seymour and Euroa up to Wangaratta, where he stayed several days while waiting to withdraw money from his bank account.

In his testimony, McMahon mentioned the names of several people he had dealt with during that time. On 29 October, he took the train from Wangaratta to Albury, just across the Victoria–New South Wales border. From there, he hoped to hitchhike to Sydney, but only managed a ride to Holbrook. Still, he claimed the truck owner would know him, and also referred to the proprietor of the Riverina Hotel in Holbrook and the barber where he had a shave. McMahon then found work as a shearer’s cook on the property of a Mr Bower. The job didn’t last long, and McMahon was back in Holbrook on 3 November, with a cheque for £1 /16s. He asked around about other jobs but was unsuccessful and on 5 November the local police sergeant sought him out. A complaint had been received: someone had been camping in or near the convent grounds. The police officer thought – rightly – that it was McMahon, and advised him to leave town. McMahon cashed the cheque on 6 November and started walking, but was soon offered a lift by a man in a small motor car. The stranger identified himself as an insurance agent and the court heard he took McMahon as far as the Riverina town of Henty, dropping him there late that afternoon.

Now McMahon reached the crucial point in his testimony, the eve and day of Mena Griffiths’ murder. The time during which numerous witnesses stated with great conviction that they had seen him in Melbourne. McMahon was adamant he was hundreds of miles away, and he proceeded to string together a list of people he had seen and spoken to during the critical hours. On 7 November he saw a truck where two young men were selling fruit. He identified them as Harry and Jack and said the truck bore the name, J. Judd, orchardist, Leeton. He arranged with the lads to get a lift with them to Leeton, and early the following morning he found their camping place, waiting while the boys had breakfast and packed up. At about half past seven on the morning of 8 November, McMahon claimed he was in the fruit truck on the way to Leeton. They passed through several towns and stopped at a number of properties to sell oranges and mandarins, finally arriving in Leeton around 4.30 in the afternoon.

McMahon gave the court a detailed account of the people he had spoken to and the time he spent in Leeton:

• The scoutmaster, who was also an electrician. McMahon was seated on his rug, watching the boys play cricket while the two men discussed his travels and rice-growing in Leeton. It was a warm day, and the scoutmaster sent two of the boys over with a drink for McMahon.

• The bootmaker, where McMahon was able to leave his bag, rug and overcoat while he went and had a shave and a meal.

• A young moustached man outside Curnow’s bakery (the establishment where police maintained no one had seen McMahon) with whom he discussed the installation of electric fans in that shop.

• He then went to the picture theatre, where an auction had been held that afternoon. It had already finished, but a woman sat at a table on the stage, counting the takings. McMahon also described some of the auction items, which were still scattered about the auditorium.

• Back at the bootmaker’s, McMahon collected his belongings and purchased a tin of boot polish.

• After camping overnight, on the morning of Sunday, 9 November, McMahon was outside the Salvation Army hall. He encountered a man and woman and asked if the band needed a euphonium player. The man (who told McMahon he was the cornet player and that the band master was absent that day) replied that they would like a converted euphonium player and invited McMahon to the evening meeting.

McMahon explained to the court how he then walked through town and went to examine some of the local orchards: he had never been to an irrigation area before and was fascinated by the workings of the water channels. He encountered a woman at one of the orchards who gave him a bag of loquats. Continuing on, McMahon decided he wanted to buy a case of oranges and send them to his brother in Sydney. The next property was an orange orchard, but all the fruit had been sold to a local cannery. Instead, McMahon helped the owner (a man in his sixties) and a neighbour with some minor carpentry work. He was directed to visit a Mr Fletcher, the owner of the cannery, the following day as there might be work available.

Instead, on Monday morning, McMahon went to the Leeton railway station to ask about services to Sydney. Around 11.20 a.m., he boarded a train for Griffith.

McMahon’s testimony continued in minute detail, describing his fellow passengers on the train, people he spoke to following his arrival in Griffith and the places where he ate. On 11 November, McMahon finally got his crate of oranges and put them on a train, addressed to his brother in Sydney. He also bought some additional oranges and lemons, which he sent to Temora.

On 14 November, he took the train to Temora where he collected and sold his box of citrus fruit. McMahon had written to his brother, asking if there was work for him in Sydney, and it was while collecting the reply from the Temora post office that he was arrested.

McMahon told the Coroners Court that when he was questioned by Detectives Bruce and Carey in the Temora lock-up, he told them he believed he had been in Leeton on 8 November. At that stage, McMahon had not taken the time to go over his travels: he had no reason to think he would have to give an account of his movements leading up to that day. Now, he informed the coroner, he knew exactly where he had been every day since leaving Geelong on 17 October.

McMahon was emotional, crying and wiping away tears while relating how he had been brought to Melbourne, where not one single witness identified him as the man they had seen near Fawkner Park or with Mena Griffiths.

McMahon concluded his statement by saying that on his release he had advised Detective Carey he would be going to Sydney to work with his brother, which was where they found and re-arrested him on 5 December.

Following McMahon’s testimony, Sub-Inspector Clugston, acting on behalf of the police, subjected the accused man to intense questioning.

Could McMahon name the insurance agent who gave him a lift?

‘[No, but] I will take you to his place if you give me the opportunity, at Henty, where he lives. I will take you face to face with him.’

Did McMahon realise there was no orchardist in Leeton called Judd?

McMahon said he may have made a mistake with the name, but once again could take detectives to where the man was living.

The accused man told the coroner he had not hidden his swag, it was simply tucked away in the place where he had been sleeping. McMahon claimed he had not told detectives about the bag when first questioned because he didn’t think it was important: he didn’t realise how serious the situation was.

The coroner was quick to deliver his findings. Mena Alexandra Griffiths had died from suffocation feloniously, unlawfully and maliciously inflicted by Robert James McMahon.

McMahon was committed for trial at the Melbourne Supreme Court on 16 February 1931.

But it wasn’t over.

Before being taken to Melbourne at the start of December, Robert McMahon had given his brother, Frank, a detailed account of his movements at the time of the murder, begging him to locate the witnesses who could corroborate the story. Frank McMahon had immediately begun advocating on Robert’s behalf, engaging the services of Sydney barrister, P.N. Roach (who had acted on Robert’s behalf ahead of his removal from Sydney to Melbourne) to follow up on Robert’s time in Leeton.

Frank also wrote to the Victorian Minister for Justice about his brother’s arrest. In the letter, he questioned what real evidence there was against Robert, informed the Minister for Justice that he believed – based on questions he had been asked at the time of Robert’s arrest – police were trying to portray his brother as mentally unstable and, crucially, he asked why his brother’s alibi had not been properly investigated. Frank McMahon pointed out that when transporting Robert to Melbourne, it would have been easy to travel via Griffith and Leeton so that Robert McMahon could point out the places and people he saw and, more importantly, establish whether those people could confirm his presence in Leeton on 8 November. Why, Frank asked, were he and the rest of the McMahon family having to bankrupt themselves to prove Robert’s whereabouts – a job that should have been done by police?

The Sydney barrister wasted no time in his attempts to trace the people Robert McMahon had spoken to in and around Leeton. Ideally, anyone corroborating his movements would be subpoenaed to appear in Melbourne.

At the same time, the sensational story of Mena Griffiths’ murder was receiving extensive coverage in newspapers throughout the country. Several papers had printed detailed accounts of the coronial inquest, including pictures of the Griffiths family, detectives, the pathologist and of course the accused, Robert McMahon. At least one of those papers was read by someone who had encountered Robert McMahon on his travels and, on 1 January 1931, an urgent telegram from Leeton was received at the Melbourne offices of Truth newspaper. It read in part:

McMahon’s tale re your newspaper seems right Name on fruit truck ‘Hurd’ Name of boys selling fruit ‘Auswild’ Name of electrician ‘Mountford’ Can you investigate please.

On 7 January, Mr V. Ryall, a solicitor from Leeton, wrote to the Victorian Attorney-General. Not only did he believe he had seen McMahon in Leeton, but when the accused was arrested and his picture published in the paper, another local resident had come to the solicitor and said he was sure the man had been in Leeton on 9 November. Mr Ryall had become deeply concerned when reading accounts of the inquest, where – as he noted – the accused had no legal representation. From the published accounts, ‘it appeared that nothing was brought out indicating any truth in the accused’s version of his movements …’ Ryall then rather scathingly added, ‘In this [s]tate it is supposed to be the practice to bring out at an inquest all facts and not merely those against a person in custody’.9

Ryall followed up this letter the next day with a statutory declaration from Thomas Hurd, fruit truck driver. The young man – whom McMahon had mistakenly named as Jack – came to the Leeton solicitor’s office wishing to give a sworn statement: he too had recognised McMahon’s picture in the paper. Eighteen-year-old Thomas confirmed that, together with Harry Auswild, he drove his father’s truck – on which was painted G. Hurd, Orchardist, Farm 526, Leeton – to Henty, arriving on 6 November. Thomas Hurd’s statutory declaration included every detail that Robert McMahon had related in court, from the moment McMahon met the two boys selling fruit to the time they parted: at the turn-off for the Hurd farm, at around 4 p.m. on the afternoon of 8 November. Attached to the document was a copy of the photograph of Robert McMahon that had been reproduced in Sydney newspaper, The Sun, on 30 December. Thomas Hurd confirmed that the man in the photograph was the same man who had travelled with him from Henty to the outskirts of Leeton.

Meanwhile, the Sydney barrister, Mr Roach, was busy gathering other statutory declarations. On 14 January, Roach wrote to the Victorian Attorney-General informing him that, ‘I have now in my possession twelve declarations corroborating the whole of the evidence given by [Robert McMahon] as to his movements on and about the date of the murder’.10 Roach offered to arrange for the 12 witnesses to be subpoenaed if the Victorian authorities would authorise the costs. Furthermore, he suggested legal representation should be arranged for Robert McMahon in Melbourne and recommended Mr Roy Schilling be appointed as soon as possible: now that McMahon had been committed for trial, there was considerable work to be done by the defence.

Although the bootmaker did not remember a man leaving his possessions in the shop and later buying boot polish, in almost every other statement the story was the same: the witnesses believed Robert McMahon was the man they had encountered in New South Wales, and their recollections of those encounters matched his exactly. The only slight variations were in the names of certain people. McMahon had tended not to recall names or to get them wrong: hardly surprising given the transient nature of the encounters.

The owner of the Riverina Hotel in Holbrook swore that McMahon was there on 31 October, went to work as a shearer’s cook for a Mr Bowler, and returned to town on 3 November. He related several conversations in detail, confirming McMahon’s story.

The police sergeant at Holbrook was sure McMahon was the man he had warned off on 3 November and told to leave town.

Stanley Linton, a local carter, confirmed he had been standing outside Curnow’s bakery on the Saturday and had entered into conversation with a stranger regarding the installation of electric fans. While he could not identify a photograph of Robert McMahon, when he read the testimony given in the Coroners Court, he considered it a ‘true brief account [of a] portion of the conversation I had with a man on the night in question’.

A Leeton police constable confirmed that an auction sale had been held at the Globe Theatre on 8 November. The auctioneer, Thomas Wright, lent further support to McMahon’s version of events when he confirmed that their female clerk was seated at a table on stage so money taken could be handed up to her, just as McMahon had described. These testimonies were particularly crucial as they firmly established that the auction McMahon had referred to in his statement to the court had indeed taken place on the day Mena Griffiths was murdered in Melbourne, nearly 500 kilometres away.

Harry Auswild, the other boy on the fruit truck; Victor Mountford, electrician and scoutmaster; Phillip Holmes, AMP insurance agent … all confirmed they’d had an encounter with a stranger, and their accounts corresponded to McMahon’s story. Furthermore, when shown a photograph, all believed McMahon was that man.

As Robert McMahon continued to languish in Pentridge Prison, his defence was rapidly gaining momentum. Melbourne solicitor Roy Schilling was engaged to represent McMahon and began working closely with his Sydney counterpart. As a result of their diligent search for evidence and witnesses, something happened that should have taken place a month earlier: Detectives Lacey and Coffey were sent from Melbourne to check the facts of McMahon’s alibi. Following this, a series of meetings took place between Mr Schilling, the Crown and the police department: Schilling wanted all the witnesses brought to Melbourne at the Court’s expense. His request wasn’t met, but what transpired was just as dramatic. On Tuesday, 10 February, two months after Robert McMahon was arrested in Sydney, Mr Schilling, Crown Prosecutor C.H. Book, and Detective Bruce accompanied McMahon back to New South Wales to not only confirm his story, but to parade him before the witnesses who had come out in his defence.

Six men were chosen from among tramps, wayfarers and members of the unemployed about town, ‘not one of whom had characteristics markedly different from any of the others’11 and McMahon was placed in this line-up. All of the witnesses picked McMahon as the man they had seen, even those who had previously only supported McMahon’s account of events but had not been confident of his identity when shown a photograph. Several more people who had not been approached for statements also viewed the line-up, identifying McMahon and confirming their dealings with him. For his part, McMahon broke down and wept on several occasions when witnesses confidently confirmed his identity, and after the last of 13 people had validated his story, Robert McMahon collapsed and was unable to speak for some time.

McMahon’s alibi was not only completely true, it was unshakeable: at all relevant times he had been in New South Wales.

The group immediately returned to Melbourne, and on 12 February the Crown Prosecutor recommended to the Attorney-General that all charges against McMahon be dropped. Police claimed to have certain other information they wished to examine first, so it was another four agonising days before the Attorney-General formally concurred and Robert McMahon was released from prison.

McMahon was offered reimbursement for his fare back to Sydney, but that was all: no apologies were made for the months he had been incarcerated, the trauma he had suffered or the destruction of his reputation. Nor was compensation offered to his brother, who in his efforts to mount a defence for Robert had been forced to sell his business and take out a loan, impoverishing himself in the process. As far as the treatment of Robert McMahon was concerned, the Crown Prosecutor stood firmly on the side of police, who staunchly defended their actions in pursuing McMahon given the evidence at their disposal.

Journalists, however, were not quite so lenient in their assessment of Victorian police. After all, as McMahon himself pointed out in a press conference given on the day after his release, had he remained in Melbourne and not been travelling in regional New South Wales, he would have been hanged as a guilty man. Articles were written about police methods, calling for an investigation into the bungled case. Across the country, newspapers – from the Melbourne Herald to Sydney’s Daily Telegraph and regional publications such as the Longreach Leader in outback Queensland – decried the actions of the Victoria Police Force.12

But none was more scathing than Smith’s Weekly. On 28 February 1931, Smith’s published an article titled, ‘Police Victim’s Sensational Statement Against Detectives’. The journalist wrote of an innocent man who ‘swears he was urged to admit guilt’ and was ‘afraid something may be put over on him’ – that is, McMahon feared he would be arrested again on some pretext if he remained in Melbourne following his release. In outlining the way the investigation had been carried out (and its subsequent disintegration) the article referred to fiasco and failure, ‘public indignation at the shocking police bungle’, the ‘smug complacency of the Chief Secretary’,13 and suggested it would ‘give rise to a general feeling of distrust and uneasiness’ regarding police methods.14 The article also gave the newly released Robert McMahon a chance to tell his story and, in doing so, specifically mentioned Detectives Bruce and Carey. Its publication caused a surprising reaction.

Detective Bruce decided to sue Smith’s Newspapers Ltd for libel. He maintained their article portrayed him as having acted in a dishonourable and unprincipled way, of attempting to convict an innocent man, of suppressing evidence that would have assisted McMahon in proving his innocence and generally inferring that Detective Bruce was incompetent and not a fit member of the Victorian Police Force. Detective Bruce claimed his reputation had been seriously injured and that he had suffered significant loss, and he sought £3000 in damages: a far cry from the train ticket to Sydney which was Robert McMahon’s compensation.

Smith’s defended the case vigorously: they denied malice, and claimed the article was justified, fair comment, and the words were McMahon’s, a small redress for the wrongly accused man. In September 1931, when the case was finally heard in the Supreme Court, among the many witnesses called in Smith’s defence were Sydney barrister, Mr Roach, the Victorian Attorney-General and Robert McMahon himself. Additionally, Smith’s not only found people who swore Detective Bruce had tried to force confessions from them in relation to other cases, they showed – among several instances of police mismanagement of the Griffiths case – there had been a witness prepared to swear that Robert McMahon was not the man with Mena Griffiths on 8 November. Police had not called this witness at the inquest into Mena’s death, nor told the coroner that such a witness existed. It seems that in the early days following the murder of Mena Griffiths, police compiled their list of sex offenders recently released from prison, lit on Robert McMahon as a likely candidate, and then simply set about proving his guilt, regardless of all evidence to the contrary.

In summing up for the six-man jury, Justice Mann noted that ‘stupidity might be forgiven’15: it was not so much Detective Bruce’s competence that was in question, but his honesty. After four and a half hours of deliberation, the jury found in Detective Bruce’s favour, awarding him £650.

As for McMahon, in years to come he would be committed to the Parramatta Mental Hospital, where authorities noted that the patient seemed to be ‘of normal mentality, but that in long conversations he exhibits a persecution mania’.16

***

Regardless of Detective Bruce’s ability or indeed his integrity, the resolution of the libel case made one thing starkly clear.

Victorian police had lost their chance to find Mena Griffiths’ killer. Ten months had passed, months in which police had focused their efforts on pursuing the wrong man, and then in defending their reputation. Witnesses who had sworn McMahon was the man they had seen were now useless: even if another suspect could be identified at this point, the testimony of those witnesses would be questionable to say the least.

The man who murdered Mena Griffiths had got away with it, and it seemed her case was destined to fade from the public gaze and ultimately be consigned to a dusty file marked ‘unsolved’.

Except he hadn’t gone away.

In fact, following the inquest into Mena Griffiths’ death, while police had Robert McMahon in custody, the real killer claimed his next victim.