Bayley case not 'black and white'
In the days since Adrian Bayley was committed to stand trial for the murder of Jill Meagher, Seven News court reporter Kate Osborn has been asked repeatedly how he could have pleaded not guilty. Here, she attempts to explain.
Generally, when people are selected to serve on a jury, the person in the dock is someone they've never seen, with a name they haven't heard.
That won't be the case for the twelve ordinary citizens who will one day be chosen to sit on the jury which will determine the fate of Adrian Ernest Bayley.
It's likely they'll recognise the sandy-haired 41-year-old's face. His name will sound familiar. And if it's still not clear by then, there'll be an instant pang of recognition when they learn his alleged victim is ABC employee Jill Meagher.
The level of public interest in the 29-year-old's disappearance, rape and murder last September was perhaps unprecedented. It prompted a groundswell of outrage, both at the attack itself, and, more broadly, at the assault on the community psyche. Women in particular interpreted the crime as a sign they weren't safe to walk the streets. It prompted rallies, marches, and campaigns deploring violence against women.
It's against this backdrop that Adrian Bayley will have to stand trial. At the conclusion of his committal hearing in the Melbourne Magistrates' Court this week, the father of four pleaded guilty to one count of rape, but not guilty to two further rape charges and, the most serious charge, murder.
The not guilty pleas mean the case will be contested in the Supreme Court. Many people unfamiliar with the justice system have been left asking: how? How is this is possible? They've seen and read media reports of Bayley's police record of interview, which was released by the court as part of the prosecution brief of evidence. Many would interpret it as damning evidence.
"I f***ed up, alright. What do I say, you know?" Bayley tells investigators, according to the interview transcript.
Having first denied encountering Jill Meagher, he eventually relents.
"It wasn't really my intention to hurt her, you know that? I swear to you, man... I just - I spoke to her and she looked distraught... She flipped me off and that made me angry, because I was actually trying to do a nice thing. I didn't take well to her response."
He tells the Homicide Squad detective he wants to 'do the right thing' and 'take responsibility.'
"They should have the death penalty for people like me anyway."
Though tears, Bayley admits, "I strangled her," then, without prompting, "I raped her."
There'd been tears too at the roadside burial site.
"I cried, man, and I dug a hole... I didn't cry for me, just like I'm not crying for me now.. I'm crying for everyone that this has affected, not me."
In the transcript, the detective outlines for the record how Bayley agreed to accompany police to Diggers Rest and helped locate Jill’s body.
"My life's over now, do you know what I mean? So this it - it's just about doing the right thing," Bayley says.
When it comes to crime-fighting, the public has been 'educated' in recent years by CSI-themed television shows. They feel they're qualified to identify clues and piece together puzzles.
As well as reading snippets of Bayley's police interview, people will have seen the CCTV footage of a man alleged to be Bayley running down Sydney Rd towards Jill Meagher, and interacting with her outside a clothing boutique. They will have seen the photographs of her broken SIM card, discovered in his laundry basket, and heard how his and Jill's mobile phones were tracked along an identical route, from Brunswick to the Diggers Rest gravesite.
At face value, it might be enough evidence for some people to assume Adrian Bayley will be convicted. But the law is rarely black and white, and here lies the answer for people questioning his not guilty pleas.
For a person to be found guilty of murder, they must do more than simply take a life. It's crucial that prosecutors prove they had the requisite intent, that they intended to kill or cause their victim really serious injury. While accused murderers in movies often argue mistaken identity, the reality is there's often no doubt in a murder trial about who killed who. What's at issue is whether it was an intentional murder, or, alternatively, an 'accident' or impulsive act, which could meet the criteria for the lesser charge of manslaughter.
In Adrian Bayley's case, pleading not guilty to Jill Meagher's murder suggests he could argue either he did not kill her, or did not intend to kill her. Possible outcomes of a trial would be a conviction for murder, a manslaughter conviction instead of murder, or an outright acquittal. The jury will have been instructed as to the highly technical elements of the law, and will decide accordingly. Jurors often supply what are considered shock verdicts by people who haven't sat through a trial. But those critics don't understand the strict rules juries must follow. If the evidence doesn't meet the letter of the law, they can't convict.
It can also be the case that seemingly damning evidence that's led in a committal hearing or contained in a police brief doesn't make it before a jury. Sections of police interviews are often ruled inadmissible and can't be played to a court. Witnesses can be discredited and their testimony ruled unreliable. These things can weaken what had previously been considered a cut-and-dried prosecution case.
Sometimes a not guilty plea is a gamble. If an accused is found guilty of murder at trial, they are in line for a sentence of life without parole. If they are acquitted and convicted of manslaughter instead, the penalty is a maximum of 20 years. For this reason, some defendants opt to 'roll the dice,' and try for a manslaughter verdict, rather than agree to plead to murder at the outset.
Another tactic, in cases involving notorious defendants, is for lawyers to apply for a stay of proceedings, that is, to have a trial indefinitely postponed. This is generally due to a fear that a high degree of publicity and emotion will make it impossible for an accused to receive a fair trial.
Whatever defence strategy Adrian Bayley and his Legal Aid-funded lawyers have decided to adopt will be revealed when the case goes before a jury, most likely later this year.
At first glance, the intense public grief surrounding this case would suggest it may not be possible to find twelve Victorians who haven't formed pre-conceived ideas about this crime. But this is not the first time an outrage-invoking case has come before the courts.
The Walsh St killers were acquitted of murdering two police officers, despite widespread emotion and damning evidence. Greg Domaszewicz walked free after being cleared of killing Moe toddler Jaidyn Leskie. Drug lord Tony Mokbel was found not guilty of organising a gangland murder, despite a concrete reputation as an underworld kingpin. There are strong legal precedents which suggest a properly instructed jury can put aside emotion and assess evidence on its merits. Indeed, it's apparent from simply observing juries how seriously they take the job of being, as they are repeatedly told, 'the judges of the facts.' They're ordinary people empowered by an extraordinary task.
It may seem odd, and challenging, to remove emotion from perhaps the most emotional crime of the decade. But allowing Adrian Ernest Bayley a fair trial is the only way to ensure justice is done. That's the only just outcome, for Jill Meagher, and all those touched by her story.
