‘No, sir, she was well dead.’
‘Objection, Your Honour!’ Codlington shouts. His face is puce with rage and he shakes his finger at Richard Runche KC. ‘I must ask why you didn’t report all this to the police. It is against the law not to do so!’ he shouts at the alarmed Phillips.
Judge Blackall brings down his gavel. ‘The counsel for the defence will please sit down. You may crossexamine this witness at a later time if you wish.’
‘Your Honour, in the interests of the truth, I would be happy for Mr Phillips to answer my learned. colleague’s question,’ Runche says.
‘Very well, you may answer, Mr Phillips,’ the judge says wearily.
‘Well, sir, they didn’t ask me. I were dismissed three weeks later from the Girls’ Home by the matron, she said it were on instruction from the Board in Sydney. There wasn’t no police come to see me at the bakery.’ ‘Thank you, Mr Phillips. Now let us continue,’ Runche says. ‘When you. were trying to revive this young girl would you not have been in a good position to study her face?’
‘I’ll never forget it as long as I live,’ Phillips replies sombrely.
‘Ah, then maybe you can help us, Mr Phillips. I have here a photograph of a group of schoolchildren. Perhaps you can identify the young girl in it.’ Moishe hands the photograph to Runche who, in turn, hands it to Joshua Phillips.
Phillips studies the photograph. ‘I can’t rightly say, sir,’ he says, giving an involuntary tug to his earlobe. ‘Mr Phillips, can you read?’
‘Yes, sir, I can manage well enough with the newspaper and all.’
Runche turns to Moishe. ‘Do you have half a crown, Mr Goldberg?’
Moishe digs into the pocket of his trousers and produces a half-crown piece. Richard Runche KC hands it to Joshua Phillips. ‘Mr Phillips, can you read the inscription around the rim on this coin?’
Joshua Phillips squints, holding the coin close. ‘Me eyes, they ain’t what they used to be — it was the war, sir.’
Moishe, who as usual has thought of everything, hands Richard Runche a large magnifying glass. The barrister passes it to Joshua Phillips. ‘Try it now.’
Joshua Phillips holds the magnifying glass to the silver coin. ‘George V Rex. 1916 Australia,’ he announces. ‘Good, now look at the photograph through the magnifying glass, Mr Phillips.’
‘The dark girl, she’s the one! She had this one tooth missing and that mark on her face, the side of her nose, like a burn. That’s her, orright.’ ‘Are you certain, Mr Phillips?’
‘Yeah, I reckon, that’s the closest I ever got to a blackfella.’ He takes another look through the magnifying glass. ‘Yeah, that’s her, no risk.’
‘Thank you, Mr Phillips, you may step down, Richard Runche says, ‘unless my learned colleague wishes to cross-examine the witness?’
The judge turns to Francis Codlington. ‘Do you wish to cross-examine the witness?’ he asks. ‘No, Your Honour, not at this time.’
‘Very well, the senior counsel for the plaintiff will proceed,’ Blackall says. Richard Runche has been expecting the judge to pull him up and ask where his questions are leading. But now he senses that Blackall has a keen interest in the evidence unfolding and is giving him a little rope, although whether it’s to hang himself or to prove his point, Runche is not yet sure.
‘Your Honour, I wish to call Mrs Margaret Roberts to the stand.’
Francis Codlington comes to his feet. ‘Your Honour, I must insist that my learned colleague comes to the point. What have the two witnesses he has summoned to the stand — and the one he is about to put under oath — got to do with Mrs Simpson’s capacity as a mother, and my client’s rights to remove her children from her care?’
The judge looks down Micawber-like at the big barrister. ‘I suspect the counsel for the defence is about to find out.’ He turns to Richard Runche. ‘The counsel for the plaintiff will make clear to the court what he hopes to prove in relation to the question just asked by counsel for the defence. I must say, I am myself somewhat mystified — I appear to be trying an entirely different case, involving a young girl named Millie Carter.’
‘Your Honour, I crave your indulgence. What I hope to prove is that the Aborigines’ Protection Board is not responsible and cannot be trusted to protect my client’s children and that they are therefore far better off under the protection and care of their mother. My next witness will, I hope, further amplify the fact that the Board cannot be trusted with the young lives under its jurisdiction and that it is prepared to act in a duplicitous and conspiratorial way to conceal its incompetence.’
Francis Codlington has become almost apoplectic in his appearance and he is barely able to find the voice to say, ‘Your Honour, we wish to ask for an adjournment so that we may study the evidence presented by the counsel for the plaintiff.’
‘Adjournment? What sort of an adjournment? I am prepared to give you one hour to be added to your luncheon recess.’
‘Thank you, Your Honour. We have come to this court to argue a point of law and now we are confronted with a line of inquiry which we believe to be inappropriate. Our fervent request is for the case to be reconvened at a later date.’
‘Inappropriate or inconvenient? This is the first case of this nature to come to the courts. I hope it won’t be the last. No, I am not prepared to postpone this hearing. As I understand it, there have been several months of delay caused by your deliberate efforts to prevent it coming before the bench. I see nothing in this case which requires further preparation on your part. You will have ample opportunity to cross-examine the witnesses. ‘
‘Your Honour, I should like to consult with my instructing lawyer.’
‘Very well, I shall adjourn this court for lunch. We shall reconvene at two o’clock.’