The bodies-in-barrels murder cases in the South Australia is highlighting some of the difficulties of the administration of the criminal law in Australia. A committal hearing is being held in Adelaide as to whether there is enough evidence against four men to stand trial for murder after 10 bodies were found in barrels at a disused bank in Snowtown in South Australia. The dead people were social security recipients. The Crown is alleging that the accused took the social security payments after the victims’ deaths. That allegation and much more evidence has been suppressed in South Australia. Magistrate David Gurry suppressed all of the Crown prosecutor’s opening address and the evidence of three pathologists who performed post mortem examinations on the victims. The public of South Australia is left in the dark about one of the most publicised murder cases in South Australia’s history and more bizarrely left in the dark about why it was being left in the dark.
Presumably, Magistrate Gurry thought that publication of details about the committal across the state might prejudice potential jurors if the men are committed for trial. We shall know in the next few days as the Supreme Court sensibly ordered that his reasons for granting the suppression order should be published. The Supreme Court is still hearing an appeal by media organisations against the suppression order itself.
The suppression order raises a couple of serious questions. The first is whether committal hearings still have any value in the criminal law. The theory is that a magistrate hears evidence and makes a decision about whether the accused should stand trial. The magistrate has to be satisfied that there is a prima-facie case to answer and that a jury, properly instructed could convict a person if that evidence were held to be admissible and accepted by the jury. If the magistrate finds that the Crown’s case, even unchallenged by the defence, would not be enough to convict, then the magistrate will dismiss the charges. Otherwise the accused are sent for trial. Of course, at the trial, the defence might test the Crown’s evidence and bring evidence of its own that might convince a jury that there is a reasonable doubt about the accused’s guilt.
Decades ago, that system had some merit. The accused could be spared the trauma of a trial if the Crown did not match up. These days, though, the committal itself is often a long affair, so the trauma happens anyway. Of more import, these days all jurisdictions have directors of public prosecutions, unlike the old days when police prosecutors handled cases or briefed counsel directly. These days the DPP’s office casts an impartial (indeed independent) eye over the evidence and generally views the evidence on the basis of seeing if there is a prima facie case and good chance of convictions before proceedings. The committal proceeding is merely doubling up.
In the present South Australian case, what one might ask is the difference between a DPP looking at the evidence behind closed doors and a magistrate so doing. And either way if the DPP or the magistrate blunders about whether to commit, there is always the jury trial to correct.
But here lies the nub of the problem. Some might think that a committal is necessary so that the accused does not get placed in the hands of a jury which might do the wrong thing on scanty evidence that does not meet even a prima facie case. If this is a legitimate concern, one might question why we entrust anyone to a jury for trial, committed or not.
Further, if Magistrate Gurry is so concerned about a jury being prejudiced by a committal hearing, one might well question whether juries are capable of freeing themselves of prejudice brought about by any number of other things: coverage of the crime at the time or the colour, looks or other attributes of the defendants, for example.
Magistrate Gurry is perhaps right to worry about the rights of the accused in the face of a committal hearing and a jury in this case. But perhaps is concerns apply top all criminal trials.