Ross’s thoughts, it will be seen, are here set down as though the writer were recording some plain matter of fact. The suggestion is that Ross had intended putting the body in this room, but was thwarted by the unfortunate circumstance that someone, not the tenant, had got the use of it for the night. The allegation about the intention of Ross to put the body in Room 33 is taken bodily out of the supposed Matthews confession. It has no other foundation, in fact. How closely the correspondent was in touch with Ivy Matthews is shown by the fact that another number of the same paper gave the story of her life. But again we are face to face with the fact that Harding, to whom Ross is supposed to have given such minute details of the disposition of the body, has not a word to say about this unexpected obstacle. A murderer and a ravisher who was confessing his double crime was hardly likely to have boggled at admitting, if such were the fact, that he contemplated disposing of the body by putting it in another man’s room. But at least, since he gave such details of his plan for disposing of the body, and his execution of them, it is curious that he said nothing about the difficulty which the light in Room 33 created.

Again there is the remarkable circumstance that not one of the card school was produced on the trial to say that in fact there was a light in the saloon at midnight. But whatever may be the facts about a light at 10 minutes to 1, it is certain that if there was a light in the saloon at midnight, Ross was not responsible for it. If the guilt or innocence of Ross depends upon the question of whether he was, or was not, in the saloon at midnight, it may be taken to be established, as clearly and definitely as human testimony can establish any fact, that Ross is innocent. Those who heard the evidence of Patterson, Studd, and Bradley, (to be mentioned later) as to Ross going home on the last tram to Maidstone, the suburb out from Footscray where Ross lived, and had the advantage of private consultations with these witnesses, cannot entertain the slightest doubt that Ross was on the tram. Conceivably, his brother and mother, as deeply interested witnesses, were lying as to what took place after he got home, though they never wavered, and were never shaken in the slightest degree in their testimony, but as to the honesty and accuracy of the three disinterested witnesses named there can be no doubt whatever. But, even if the confessions are relied on, it should be noted that both negative the suggestion that Ross was in the saloon at midnight.

Not a word about the light in room 33 or of the observations of the card school came out on the trial. Of course, there may be no truth in the story. But, true or not, no questions concerning either were put to Ross by the detectives which would have allowed these matters to get out on the trial. This is not meant as adverse criticism of the conduct of the case. It merely illustrates what has been said earlier how events so shaped themselves as to cast all the light on Ross, and leave others, who at one time or another were suspected, entirely in the shadow.

The detectives explain the light in the one room by the theory that a stranger to the room had been given the use of it for the night for an immoral purpose; they explain the light in Ross’s room, if the newspaper account is true, by the theory that he is engaged disposing of a dead body. But if the jury had known that all night a light was burning, not only in the saloon, but in a room opposite to it, they might not have been so easily satisfied about either theory, as it is suggested the detectives were.

No insinuation is made against the fairness with which the detectives presented the case against Ross. In particular, Piggott’s account of the conversations with Ross give, with great frankness, Ross’s answers, when it would have been perfectly easy for the detective, had he desired to be unfair, to minimise the emphasis Ross put upon his denials. There are two passages in Taylor’s great work on “Evidence,” however, which are peculiarly applicable to this case. One deals with the caution necessary in considering all police evidence.

“With respect to policemen, constables, and others employed in the detection of crime,” says the learned author, “their testimony against a prisoner should usually be watched with care, not because they intentionally pervert the truth, but because their professional zeal, fed as it is by an habitual intercourse with the vicious, and by the frequent contemplation of human nature in its most revolting form, almost necessarily leads them to ascribe actions to the worst motives, and to give a colouring of guilt to facts and conversations which are, perhaps, in themselves, consistent with perfect rectitude. ‘That all men are guilty till they are proved to be innocent’ is naturally the creed of the police, but it is a creed which finds no sanction in a court or justice.”

The other passage deals with the dangers which have necessarily to be guarded against in any case depending on circumstantial evidence. Says the learned author:—

“It must be remembered that, in a case of circumstantial evidence, the facts are collected by degrees. Something occurs to raise a suspicion against a particular party. Constables and police officers are immediately on the alert, and, with professional zeal, ransack every place and paper, and examine into every circumstance which can tend to establish, not his innocence, but his guilt. Presuming him guilty from the first, they are apt to consider his acquittal as a tacit reflection on their discrimination or skill, and, with something like the feeling of a keen sportsman, they determine, if possible, to bag their game. Innocent actions may thus be misinterpreted, innocent words misunderstood, and as men readily believe what they anxiously desire, facts the most harmless may be construed into strong confirmation of preconceived opinions. It is not here asserted that this is frequently the case, nor is it intended to disparage the police. The feelings by which they are actuated are common to all persons who first assume that a fact or system is true, and then seek for arguments to support and prove its truth.”

Piggott himself admitted that the press were giving them “a pretty rough time” about their failure to effect an arrest. How “rough” it was may be gauged from one editorial in “The Argus” about three days before Ross’s arrest, which said: “As each day passes the grievous disappointment of the public at the failure of the police to track down the murderer of the child, Alma Tirtschke, grows more profound.... Even among citizens less given to displays of anger the sense of disgust is acute. The detectives and police force of Melbourne are on their trial, and no matter how exacting they may find the ordeal they must realise that the public will not tolerate failure on their part.” Being thus on their trial, with their reputation at stake, they had a tremendous incentive to try and sheet the crime home.

POINTS THE JURY MISSED.