Supreme Court of Western Australia
PERTH
October 18th
Mr Lowe gathers his notes and turns to the jury, about to begin his closing statement. His back is straight and stiff, his suit jacket well pressed.
He tells the jury to discard my evidence on many grounds, first and foremost regarding my pregnancy. After this pronouncement, he looks back at me, then at the jury. How typically male to start here: by undermining what I can do and he can’t, sabotaging my trump card.
‘Her pregnancy is just another part of the elaborate fantasy the defendant is trying to spin for you,’ he says, ‘the fantasy that she is perhaps even spinning for herself. Just because the defendant and Mr MacFarlane had intercourse doesn’t mean it was consensual.’
The pitying expression on his face when he looks at me next makes me want to punch him.
‘Let me tell you the rest of the defendant’s fantasy—or, rather, let me unravel it for you.’
He turns back to the jury, his pitying expression replaced by one of utter professional seriousness.
‘It was not Mr MacFarlane’s choice to be in that desert house, despite what the defendant would have you believe. He was held there against his will. The ropes found at the scene would suggest he was likely tied up. The blood spatterson the spade suggest that he was violently assaulted with it, perhaps to the point of death. Mr MacFarlane’s continued disappearance, despite the state’s substantial efforts to find him, suggests that whether the spade was used or not, the defendant did in fact kill him. Remember, there were also guns and knives found on the property. After committing this act, it is likely she buried him out there. You’ve heard details about the disturbances in the ground—and seen the evidence in photographs—proof that she was trying to find the best place to do the burying.’
The jury are shuffling in their seats. Are they convinced? I want to turn around to see Mum’s face, and Nick’s if he’s up there. Are they looking at me in a new way now?
‘And why haven’t the police found Mr MacFarlane’s body yet?’ Mr Lowe’s voice booms into my thoughts. ‘You’ve seen from the photographs just how vast that land is up there in the deserts of this state. Think of all the space that the defendant had to hide one body. With the best resources in the world, the police could never search all of it. She had a car, after all. Tyler MacFarlane’s DNA was found all over that car.
‘What the defendant has told you today, members of the jury, is nothing but a fantasy. Do not let her innocent look, or her pregnancy, sway you—or even the tragedy of what happened to her ten years previously. If anything, let what happened to the defendant previously make you more resolute to return a verdict of guilty. This was a revenge killing, make no mistake about that. The defendant knew exactly what she was doing. Why did she book a flight to Perth that arrived only a few days before Mr MacFarlane was released from jail? Why buy a knife from a city department store?Why stalk Mr MacFarlane at his sister’s house night and day after he was released?
‘We know that Mr MacFarlane was seen in the defendant’s hire car. And we know that after that last sighting of him by Mr Symonds in the desert petrol station, Mr MacFarlane was never seen again. Not by a single person, apart from the defendant. Do not let the fact that there is no body dissuade you from thinking this is a murder case. Think of the blood in the hire car. Think of the defendant’s cover-up around the house, the evidence concealed. Think of the fact that the defendant lied to police.
‘And the defendant says she did all this to protect Mr MacFarlane? Unlikely. This elaborate fantasy that you’ve heard her weave is nothing more than a selfish lie to protect herself.’
The jury are listening intently, everyone is. I can understand why: Mr Lowe’s story is almost as good as mine. I look down at my clasped hands, my belly beneath them. Is that a kick I feel?
Mr Lowe continues, his smooth voice hammering home his argument until even I want to believe it.
All just a fantasy?
I’m lying when I think you’re still alive?
I killed you, then said I didn’t?
I imagined it all?
What do my parents think now, as they look down on me from the gallery? Has Mr Lowe finally swayed them? But you know, Ty, despite the days and money spent on this trial, it will only ever be you and me who truly understand what I can do, only you and me who know the truth of what happened in the desert. Just like you and I are the only oneswho can ever say what a fitting punishment might be.
‘So, is the defendant a fantasist?’ Mr Lowe asks the jury. ‘Can you see behind her mask? Can you see the evil behind her exterior? You heard it yourself from Ms MacFarlane, the victim’s sister, that the defendant is good at manipulating, that she likes to make up stories. So, ask yourself—is this all just a story? Is she trying to convince you to believe her own private fantasy? And do you, members of the jury, want to choose her fantasy as the truth?’