The Murchison Murders Page 2

  Not the slightest suspicion that anything was wrong entered our minds. No one of the three was a close friend of ours.

  Shocks

  Meanwhile the depression had fallen like a blight, the staff had been reduced, and my section of fence had been altered to run 100 miles north, and 100 miles south of Burracoppin.

  It was at the 78-mile peg south of the Department’s headquarters’ town that the Inspector came along, to say:

  “You remember Jack Lemon, who works on Narndee”

  I did. Lemon had taken Snowy Rowles’s place. I remembered Lemon telling me a few months before how he had come from the East and had “palled up” with a man on the boat; how they had tramped to the Murchison from Perth; and how his pal had got a job on Wydgee Station, and himself one on Narndee; these two stations adjoining.

  The Inspector went on to explain to me that Carron, Lemon’s friend, resigned his employment or was paid off, and had left Wydgee Station in company with Rowles, some time in May, 1930. It was also known that Rowles had cashed Carron’s pay cheque, and had bought beer out of the money at Paynesville, a mining town east of Mount Magnet. It appeared that Lemon had sent a reply-paid telegram to Rowles at Youanmi asking for information regarding his friend, and Rowles had not replied either by telegram or letter.

  “It is likely that Louis Carron’s disappearance would never have been remarked had he not been a confirmed letter-writer. Up to the time he left Wydgee Station he had written regularly to friends in New Zealand and to his pal, John Lemon, at Narndee.

  All this the Inspector learned during his trip north – his section extended to the 421-mile peg – in February, 1931, ten months after Carron and Rowles had driven away from The Fountain in Ryan’s truck. Jack Lemon was the last man to see Carron, who promised to write and tell him how he got on in his search for a new job.

  My untrained imagination jumped at a solution of this little mystery. Carron, paid off with a cheque, goes with Snowy, and they decide to purchase a case of beer and have a peaceful or private carousal in the bush much cheaper than drinking at an hotel. Naturally, in possession of a case of beer, they both become stung. A quarrel arises, there is a fight, and Carron gets killed.

  “That might be how it happened,” the Inspector agreed. “Anyway, the detectives are scouring the whole country in a search for Carron’s body. It looks pretty black against Snowy.”

  “Have they arrested him?”

  “No, not yet. He’s working now on a station called Hill View, a couple of hundred miles or so north of Youanmi.”

  “Then it mightn’t be Snowy,” I objected.

  “But they know that Carron left the Fountain with Rowles. They know that Rowles cashed Carron’s cheque at the Paynesville hotel. And they know that Rowles never answered Lemon’s telegram.”

  Three weeks after this conversation the Inspector returned again from a north trip. He said grimly:

  “Ryan and Lloyd are missing now. They haven’t been seen since they left the Camel Station in December, 1929.”

  I must have looked a half-wit, standing with my mouth open in utter astonishment. And whilst thus standing came the next shock. “And they’ve found Carron’s charred remains near the one-eight-three mile hut – a ring, false teeth, a dental plate, bones. “Go on?” I urged desperately.

  “And when they went to arrest Snowy Rowles they recognised him as a man who escaped from the Dalwallinu lock-up after having been convicted for burglary in 1928. They haven’t arrested him for murder but for gaol escape, so that the detectives will have whips of time to complete their investigations into the disappearances of Carron, Ryan and Lloyd.”

  It was all so incredible that for several minutes my mind refused to accept it. I found it harder to believe that Rowles was a burglar than a suspected murderer. No man was less like even my modern conception of a burglar. He had never stolen anything from me, or so little as a piece of hoop-iron from the Government Station. He might have killed Carron during a drunken brawl; but. . . a common burglar!

  “Looks like he put that book lot of yours into practice,” said a man with the Inspector.

  “Seems that you and Ritchie were the last people to see Ryan and Lloyd alive in the company of Snowy Rowles,” added the Inspector. “If you take my advice you’ll write out a statement to the police. They know all about you, and all about your hunt for a murder-plot.”

  Bush Psychology

  There are many points in this case which are sure to perplex a reader unfamiliar with the psychology and habits of the bushman. During the trial several witnesses were obliged to interrupt their evidence to explain why something was done, or how something else came about. When preparing his case, Mr. Gibson, the Crown Prosecutor, had the assistance of Detective-Sergeant Harry Manning, who conducted the police investigation – assistance of great value, because Manning is an experienced bushman. On the other side, Mr. Curran, defending Rowles, seemed not to have the same assistance, even from Rowles, who was a superb bushman. Here is one illustration: At the inquest Mr. Curran said to witness Lance Maddison:

  “There are hundreds of square miles of dense scrub around the hut (the hut near the bore about where the remains of Carron were found); don’t you think it would be foolish for a man to try to burn evidence of a crime around the hut?”

  “I can’t say,” replied the cautious witness.

  To a city dweller, Mr. Curran’s question would have appeared quite logical. In point of fact, that hut was an ideal locality, as will be explained a little later. To the city-dweller, also, the most astonishing feature of the disappearance or the three men is that no one missed them, or thought to inquire for them, until nearly twelve months had elapsed. Yet to the bushman there is nothing singular about that, mainly because a large part of the population of Central Australia is a floating population, to which all three missing men belonged.

  The Hounds of the Law

  In early January, 1931, John Lemon interviewed Constable Hearn, of Mount Magnet, and reported the fact that his friend, Louis Carron, had not written to him since he had left his camp on Narndee Station – that formerly occupied by Snowy Rowles, named The Fountain. At this time Hearn had already received a letter from a Mr. Jackson, of Dunedin, N.Z., making inquiries for Carron. But not until February 17 did he, accompanied by a veteran bushman, Constable McArthur, set out from Mount Magnet to make inquiries.

  Because John Lemon understood from his friend and Rowles on their departure from his camp that they were going to Wiluna in search of employment, Constables Hearn and McArthur started their inquiries from that town – 200 north of west. Drawing a blank at Wiluna, they came back to the Vermin Fence and then south to the Camel Station, which they made their headquarters; approximately another 200 miles.

  Such is the peculiar nature of the soil on the Murchison that tracks made by carts and waggons remain visible for years. Up and down the Fence, and off every cross road, there are in evidence to-day seldom used tracks originally made by the waggon carting the Fence posts, and drays bringing out of the bush their loads of sandalwood. And over all those tracks might be driven a car.

  On this huge area of country, to find the remains of a man which might have been burned or buried ten months before, seemed to be closely allied to the problem of finding the needle in the haystack. And yet in a remarkably short space of time the hounds of the law found evidences of a large fire in the vicinity of a bore at the 183-mile peg – twenty miles north from the Camel Station, on the No. 1 Vermin Fence.

  At this point the Fence track passes through dense narrow-leafed mulga. Here there is a little-used gate; and should the curious pass through this gate and follow the little-used track for half a mile he would arrive at a small iron hut set amidst the dense scrub, which hides it entirely from the traveller on the Fence track. There was no water at this place, and the section rider, Lance Maddison, had occasion to go there only about twice a year to report on the condition of the hut. 300 yards farther west, the police came to a bore
, quite out of order and, therefore, useless; and in the vicinity of this bore they found the site of a large fire. Slight trails of ashes led them still deeper into the bush, where they discovered two more heaps of ashes. Examination of these showed that the heaps had been made with ashes carried from the main fire, for beneath the heaps the grass was unburned, proving that the ashes had been dumped there when cold.

  Among the ashes they found what were thought to be pieces of skull-bone, human bones, animal bones, charred woollen material, and a bone button. They found, too, among the ashes of the smaller heaps, artificial teeth, gold clips from a dental plate, metal eyelets from boots or shoes, a wedding ring, several strange wire stitches, etc.

  These exhibits, with their report, were forwarded to police headquarters. It was thereupon decided to send Detective-Sergeant Manning north to take charge of the case.

  Murder in Fact and Fiction

  The fictional murder case that engaged the attention of Inspector Bonaparte in The Sands of Windee was paralleled to an extraordinary extent by the actual murder case investigated by Detective-Sergeant Manning. Manning’s task was both greater and less than that presented to Bonaparte; and, the following points of similarity seem worthy of note, as indicating why the Crown suggested that Rowles adopted the book method of body destruction in part, in the case of Louis Carron.

  Manning:

  Bonaparte:

  Police examined ashes of a large fire 10 months after Carron disappeared.

  Bony examined ashes of a large fire two months after Marks was reported missing.

  Police found in ashes human bones, false teeth, dental plate fasteners, a wedding ring, etc

  Bony found in ashes one boot-sprig. Also a silver disc in the fork of a tree some distance from the scene of the murder.

  Police found in ashes a piece of melted lead of equal weight to an 0.32 bore bullet.

  Bony found in ashes three pieces of melted lead, each of equal weight to an 0.44 bore bullet.

  Police found in ashes, besides human hones, plenty of animal bones.

  Bony found in ashes no human bones, but plenty of animal bones.

  Police found an iron camp-oven which, it was assumed, was used to smash up the bones of Carron.

  Bony found that a prospector’s iron dolly-pot had been used to pound to dust the bones of Marks.

  Manning investigated a careless attempt to destroy a human body.

  Bony investigated the almost perfect murder, the body of Marks having been most efficiently destroyed.

  Manning found in one ash heap bones which he took for human finger hones.

  Bony found in the ashes bones which he sent to his headquarters to determine if they were human finger bones or kangaroo paw bones.

  Manning had to convince a real life judge and jury that Carron had been murdered by Rowles.

  Bony was diverted from bringing his case to a judge and jury because logically he would have failed to convince them.

  Manning is par excellence a bushman.

  Bony, having the tracking powers of his aboriginal mother and the reason-powers of his white father, was a super-bushman

  Snowy Rowles with Ryan’s ute

  Camel Station 1930

  Upfield’s dray wherein he wrote Windee

  Ryan’s ute with Rowles’ rifle

  Arthur Upfield

  Step by Step

  On leaving Perth Sergeant Manning proceeded to Mount Magnet, where he conferred with Constables McArthur and Hearn. It happened that when Mr. Jackson’s letter was received Constable Hearn was due for annual leave, but he requested that his leave might be postponed that he might ascertain Carron’s fate. Constable McArthur was sent to relieve him; and, therefore, when Manning set out for the scene of the assumed murder, he was accompanied by Constable Hearn.

  A second and more careful examination, made with a sieve, brought lo light a burned human molar tooth having a cavity on the biting surface which might have been filled by an amalgam. The camp-oven was found near the main fire, and Manning saw that ash still adhered to the outside. It seemed probable that it had been used to transport some of the ashes and bones to those other heaps, because the grass beneath the smaller heaps had been dumped in those several places when cold, as I have already stated.

  Manning measured the area of the main fire-site and found it to be eight feet by six. Evidence of the heat was provided by a coffee-tin that lay on the ground several feet from the ashes. The side of the tin facing the fire was badly burned. He ascertained from tracks made by a set of motor or truck tyres that a vehicle had been driven from the direction of the fence gate, and, after passing near the site of the fire, had turned and gone back.

  Routine Work

  Began then for Sergeant Manning that part of a detective’s work which is seldom made much of in crime fiction – the taking of statements. Obviously, the first man to approach was John Lemon, Carron’s friend. Already Manning had a description of Carron, supplied by Mr. Jackson. Carron was about 27 years of age, of medium build and erect carriage, with a sandy complexion, and an abrupt manner of speaking. Manning wanted to know from Lemon if Carron had false teeth; to which Lemon said: “Yes”; since he had often seen his friend cleaning them. He did not know where those teeth had been made, or by whom. And thus a line of inquiry started out from Western Australia to Hamilton, New Zealand, which resulted in a dentist named Sims being found who had made Carron a complete lower denture, consisting of diatoric teeth, and an upper partial denture being fixed to Carron’s sound teeth by two gold clips. And thirteen diatoric teeth, four pin teeth, and two gold clips had been found in the various ash heaps.

  “Did Carron wear a wedding ring?”

  “Yes,” replied Lemon. “He wore a ring so tightly fitting that he once said he would have to have it filed off.”

  A second line of inquiry began, this time towards Carron’s wife, Mrs. Brown, in New Zealand. (It should be explained that “Carron” had assumed this name in order to overcome the objection of his wife to his leaving New Zealand.) She remembered the ring, remembered when it was bought and at which shop in Auckland, N.Z. Eventually, Mr. A. T. Long examined the ring. He had sold it to Mrs. Brown in December, 1925. He knew the ring because of its markings, it N.Z. patents number; and he also knew that a workman in his shop had altered the size in an inexperienced manner.

  From John Lemon, Sergeant Manning worked back toward Wydgee Station, via Wheelock, a prospector, Worth, a bookkeeper, and Beasley, the manager. The date on which Mr. Worth made out and Mr. Beasley signed Carron’s pay cheque for 25/0/07 was ascertained. On Wydgee it was further learned that Carron had sent to a Perth jeweller’s two watches for repair, and these watches had been returned, each in a separate box. Yes, the boxes contained wire stitches similar to those found in the ashes. Out went another line of inquiry. The jewellers said that a Mr. Stone, a box manufacturer, made the boxes for them. And Mr. Stone recognised the wire stitches as those made by one of his machines which had a slight defect causing the defect in the stitches found among the ashes. Back again to the jewellers, who stated that the same watches they had repaired for Carron had been sent them for further repairs from Messrs. Fleming & Co., at Mount Magnet. A Mr. Male, of Fleming & Co., recalled having sent the watches to the Perth jewellers, and described the man who brought them to him – a man he knew as “Snowy” Rowles.

  Lemon had said that his friend and Rowles left him for Wiluna in search of work. Constable Hearn could not hear anything of either man when he made inquiries in Wiluna. Manning now followed the trail. He camped at the Camel Station homestead, he travelled north along the fence to the gate at the 206-mile, and eastward then for eighteen miles to Youanmi. And at Youanmi he found that Rowles was well known.

  The detective went through the books of Mr. Jones, the licensee of the. Youanmi Hotel, tracing various cheques cashed, and dates on which Rowles had booked in. Then to Paynesville, miles westward, to gain information about a cheque made out by Mr. Edward Moses, when he lea
rned of the transaction regarding the tender of tender of Carron’s Wydgee cheque for ₤25/0/7. And then back again to Narndee Station, where further information was obtained from the station books.

  Hundreds of miles were traversed in a motor car, filling books with place-names, distances, dates, and names of persons. Eventually the detective had the name of every man working in the district at the time Carron disappeared. Precisely as did Bony in Windee, he made out his list of “fish,” among which might be the “sting-ray.” He had gathered that a man named Upfield, who wrote novels, was in charge of the Camel Station a few months prior to the disappearance of Carron. He learned from a man named Ritchie of Upfield’s search for an effective method of corpse destruction. He knew that the man last seen with Carron was called “Snowy” Rowles, who since then had become employed on Hill View Station; and that Rowles had an excellent character, was a fine bushman, and owned his own runabout truck.

  Yes, he had bought the truck from a man named Ryan. Where was Ryan? Oh! He had left the district with a man named Lloyd. He had taken with him a valuable compass and other things belonging to Narndee Station.

  Strange!

  And now information began to pour in regarding Ryan and Lloyd. Circumstances in connection with them had taken on a sinister light in view of the discovery of Carron’s remains.

  The detective’s interest in Ryan and Lloyd was fully aroused. Where was Ryan? Last heard of at Mount Magnet, and, on Manning’s reaching Mount Magnet, he found that nothing was known of Ryan, or of Lloyd, his mate: and certainly they had not stayed there during the Christmas of 1929.