DRAMATIC TRIAL SCENES.

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXIV, Issue 911, 4 November 1933, Page 33 (Supplement)

DRAMATIC TRIAL SCENES.

CAMDEN TOWN MURDER CASE. TENSE EXCITEMENT AS ACCUSED ARTIST ENTERS WITNESS BOXATTITUDE TO QUESTIONS CAUSES COUNSEL ANXIOUS MOMENTS—FIRM DENIAL OF SLAYING OF UNFORTUNATE WOMAN EPIC OT CRIMINAL COURT DRAWS TO A CLOSE.

It was the third day of the trial of Robert Wood, a young artist, at the Old Bailey, for the murder of Phyllis Dimmock in at. Paul's Road, Camden Town. The case was nearing the astonishing end that made the late Sir Mall Caine describe it as ‘‘tremendous drama.” Ruby Young was Robert Wood's frieuu; with him she had concocted an alibi to cover the night before Phyllis D‘mmock was found head. Robert Wood was with her when he was arrested by Inspector Neill, who had previously spoken to Ruby. What would she say in lier evidence? Ruby Y'outig went into the box. The girl, when it came to the story of her last kiss, and the betrayal of Wood, and his words of farewell to her, burst into sobs, and could not continue her evidence for some minutes. Marshall Hall dealt gently with her; it was not necessary to be brutal to the poor creature who had been pursued with the maledictions of the crowd, now thoroughly roused on behalf of Wood, and was to be almost lynched as she drove in a public conveyance well guarded by police. But as to the false alibi he put one questiou that compels admiration. “Having regard to Dr. Thompson's evidence that Phillis Diinmock was murdered between three and four in the morning, lias it ever struck you that this was a perfectly useless alibi for the murderer, but a perfect alibi merely for a meeting with a girl?” Ruby answered, “No.” This question was the very foundation of Marshall Hall's wonderful defence; once again he turned the most damaging evidence for the prosecution into a cornerstone of the defence. Por this false alibi, so understood, might even tell in Wood’s favour; it showed that his one concern was merely to avoid the publicity of being known as an associate of this girl, and not his trial for murder; or, if he was afraid of being arrested for murder, it showed that he did not even know at what time the girl had been murdered, and was, therefore, an innocent man. The only dangerous part of Ruby’s evidence was her statement, which caused a great sensation in Court, that in his walk Wood “had a peculiarity which no one else could copy. But much of the sting of this was removed when she admitted that she would not have mentioned it at all had not the carman’s evidence been ridiculed. On the fourth day a number of young women of more or less disreputable character, were called to prove Wood's previous association with Phyllis Dimmock. Their evidence was very inconsistent, aqd not difficult to handle in cross-examination. One of them said to Marshall: “You are trying to make me into a bad character.” “God forbid,” said Marshall sadly, “that I should make you one.” “Turn Round.” The last witness called to prove the previous acquaintance was John William Crabtree, who had just completed a sentence for keeping a disorderly house. Phyllis had lodged at one of these houses, and he said Wood had called there many times. He professed to remember, in some detail, a quarrel between them about a silver cigarette case. Now Marshall had seen this man's statement and knew that there was a great deal which he might say in Wood’s favour; but he also knew that the man might wish to curry favour with the police. He wished first to discredit the evidence as to the previous acquaintance, and then, just as the Romans got the truth from slaves by torture, so to frighten him that he would blurt out the first thing that came into his head, which in the case of this witness, was the best way to elicit the truth: once let Crabtree think over the matter and he would tell a lie. Marshall had learned how to cross-examine such a witness. Marshall now put to him the questions which he had not dared to put till he had destroyed the effect of his adverse evidence, and frightened him by his fierce inquiries. He lead out to Crabtree a description given by him to the police of a man who, in his opinion, might have committed the murder. Crabtree’s comment on this was again better than could have been hoped. “Yes,” he said, “but that man was ‘Scotty,’ a motor driver, not the prisoner.” ‘‘Oh,” said Marshall, “then they have got hold of the wrong ‘Scotch Bob.’ ” Crabtree went on to say that several men had a certain terrible grievance against poor Phyllis. Among them, “Scotty” had threatened to cut her throat, as he said she had ruined him for life, and a certain sailor called “Biddle” had actually threatened her with a razor and taken money from her with menaces. Crabtree said he fully expected to see “Scotty” when he went to the police station; he had merely identified Wood as a man who had been her lover, and written her letters. Finally, with the calling of “Scotch Bob” himself, who was not Crabtree’s “Scotty” and who proved an incontestable alibi, the case for the prosecution closed. Marshall then rose and submitted confidently that there was no case against Wood to go to a jury, there being no motive, or reliable evidence of identification, or trace of the crime brought home to the prisoner. But the case went on and Marshall opened the defence. For the first twenty minutes he did not touch the facts of the case, but used all his eloquence and dramatic power to instil into the jury a sense of their tremendous responsibility. The late Sir J. B. Melville. K.C.. afterwards Solicitor-General, described this prelude as a masterpiece of advocacy, the most effective jury speech he ever heard. Case For The Defence. Marshall began with a reference to the Old Bailey Bar. Then he said:—“Gentlemen, in the last three days you may have thought that, now and then, I was pressing a witness unfairly, that I urged an unfair advantage, that I asked an unworthy question. If 1 seemed to exceed the proper limits, gentlemen. I implore you to forgive me; but, after all, why should not 1 have? My whole anxiety was for my client. His life is at stake. I cannot rob the witnesses for the prosecution of that. They have far less to lose at my hands than lie has at yours. Gentlemen. tliis burden has been lying very heavily on my shoulders. It will pass to yours all too soon.” He then turned to the defence. Some it had already been disclosed by Arthur' --ewton, at the police court. The defence —ras an alibi. Wood would say that he left the Eagle rather after eleven, and went straightJiome: his father and young brother had heard him come in at about midnight. There wai nothing new in this evidence, but Marshall had again an important surprise witness who had only come to his knowledge during the progress of the case. This man. a ticket-collector named Westcott, had left a neighbouring house in St. Paul’s Road, to go to work at about 4.55 a.m. on the morning of the murder. He was broad-shouldered, and had a brisk walk. He had been wearing a bowler hat and a long, dark overcoat. He had also seen in the street a man who bore a resemblance to the carman. But the real sting came in the end of the opening speech. Two witnesses, said Marshall Hall, had given statements to the Crown that they had seen the woman in the company of a man. who was not Wood, as late as 12.30. The prosecution had not thought fit to call them, and lie was compelled to do so for the defence, to the disadvantage of the prisoner, for now the Crown would have the right to cross-examine them.

“If the Crown condescended to call Crabtree, these two men should have been called. For what do you think, gentlemen, of a charge of murder that can rely upon the evidence of a man like the thing that we saw in the witness box just now ? No word L can invent can express the horror and contempt anyone would feel for a man like that—glorying in his wrongdoing—convicted horse-stealer, brotheJkeeper and liar. The prisoner has, under stress of temptation, told untruths. He may have been immoral, but, even had he been 20 times immoral, that is a long way from proving him guilty of one of the most astroeious and skilful murders of modern times.” Spontaneous applause broke out as Marshall Hall sat down, and the fourth day of the trial was over. Jt is a rule of practice that a prisoner called in his own defence must give evidence before any other witness for the defence. This is not a rule of law, and Marshall Hall did not follow it in this case. The first witness for the defence was Wood’s father, a venerable Scotsman. He said he remembered his son coming, on the night of the murder, into his room at about midnight; he came to fetch a clock of his own which the witness had borrowed. An Angler’s Bait. Young Charles Wood, a half-brother, corroborated his father’s evidence, and after him was called one Rogers, a jeweller by profession, by recreation a fisherman,

and an officer of the Great Northern Brothers’ Angling Society. This man lived in the flat below the Woods. Rogers then told his story: At about midnight on September 11 lie had been E reparing bait for the annual outing of is angling society, and he had seen Wood come in at about 11.50. He had come forward with this statement from the very first and had been angry at not being called at the inquest. The last witness for the alibi was Westcott, who had been in St. Paul's Road early on the morning following the crime. “Are you conscious that you have a swing iu your walk?” asked Marshall Hall. “Yes,” said this bluff, broad-shouldered young man, “especially in the morning. They say it is a good exercise, and out with your chest.” He then put on his bowler hat, turned up the collar of his over-coat and walked up and down for the benefit of the jury. He was corroborated by another witness, named Barrett, who said that he had called him at 4.15 on that morning, and that he had always noticed a peculiar jerk in Westcott’s shoulders as he walked. Wood’s employer said the prisoner was almost the pet of the works, of excellent ability and exceptionally amiable character. Marshall Hall then tendered the evidence of 65 of Wood’s fellow employees to the effect that Wood had no peculiarity in his walk, but Sir Charles Mathews accepted the evidence as given. Then the two witnesses, Sharpies and Harvey, who were not called by the prosecution. but who at the very first had come forward to say that they had seen Phyllis with a man not the prisoner at 12.30 outside the Rising Sun, gave their evidence. They said her companion was a head and shoulders taller than Wood, and “much smarter built.” Accused In Witness-box. Then, amid tense excitement, Marshall Hall said, “I call the prisoner, Robert Wood.” All eyes were on Wood as he walked to the witness-box. It must have been a terrible ordeal. Everyone in court was watching for a peculiarity in his walk, and he wisely put lvis right hand in his coat pocket. As he passed by his father he gave him a gentle smile and said, “Well, dad, cheer up.” Marshall Hall put his first question with great force and dramatic effect. “Robert Wood,” he asked, “did you kill Emily Dimmock?” Wood merely smiled, and remained silent. Marshall Hall repeated the question, but much of its effect was gone. “You must answer straight,” he said. “I mean it is ridiculous,” said the young artist. Marshall Hall then, much distressed, implored Wood to answer his questions directly, but throughout his evidence Wood's inability to obey him caused him much anxiety. When he was asked whether the evidence of Crabtree was true or false Wood made an attempt to be dramatic. “May God destroy me,” he said, “if 1 ever knew Crabtree, or if I was ever in his house.” When asked if Phyllis’ hair had been in curl-papers during their last meeting at the Eagle, Wood said be would not allow himself to be seen with a girl in public whose hair was like that. On the contrary, she was “very neat and dainty.” He had talked to Phyllis because she was bright and merry, and “had an intelligence to appeal to.” Wood had known William Morris, and really had a vein of sentimental poetry in his character. Afterwards he wrote of Phyllis: “She impressed me as a crushed rose- that had not lost all its fragrance, and had been thrown aside. She seemed a girl who might have seen better days,

who might have made a good wife in other 'circumstances. Jt delighted me to sit and talk to her. She was in herself an exceedingly attractive girl. She had a sort of rough refinement. 1 was not in love with her. She appealed in some way to my sense of the artistic.” • The calm self-possession which had allowed him to draw masterly sketches in prison with a bold firm pen led nim into indiscretion in the witness-box. He was much concerned to show that ho did not “frequent” public-houses; lie did not go at all “unless he was accompanied by a friend.” When Marshall Hall questioned, him about the writing on the cha’Tecl pieces of paper, which was undoubtedly his. and which it was vital that ho should admit and explain, he said: “It bears the appearance of a copy.” Ho liad to be pressed by Marshall Hall to make the necessary and obvious admission. He disliked the poor, dead girl being referred to as “Dimmock.” “I met Dunmock. or rather Phyllis, in Camden Road.” The Court was adjourned after his examination in chief, which, according to Marshall Hall, was harder than any crossexamination he had ever conducted. [THe summing-up, the verdict and the astonishing scene that followed will be graphically described in the concluding article next week.J