Perfect Victim (25 page)

Discussions followed about the predicament of families faced with a missing child; of the restrictions facing local police; of the need to keep relatives fully updated on the status of the case as it progresses. Protection of parents, explained Elizabeth Barber, simply added to their distress. Then there were questions. Why, asked the Barbers, had Richmond police told them it was not possible to trace incoming calls, when Missing Persons had done exactly that? They were told that Richmond police had been correct – it was not possible for local police to access incoming telephone records. It was in breach of the privacy act. Even in cases where there is evidence of foul play, protocol requires that an application must be made through proper channels.

On a more personal note, the Barbers compared the caring attitudes shown to them by detectives from Homicide and Missing Persons with what they considered to be indifference from other officers. This difference in attitude, complained Elizabeth, was confronting to the family at a time when they most needed support. Perhaps Homicide and Missing Persons officers were more experienced in dealing with emotional parents and hysterical families. She had a solution. Perhaps all missing persons should be handled by a central missing person agency, separate to the Homicide Squad. Cases could be handed over to Homicide only when there is enough evidence to suggest foul play. But she was told this was not practical. Every local police station, explained the executives, is different. Its officers respond differently to individual community demands and experience varying problems in each local region.

So, given the complexities of Missing Persons and the unique nature of each case, executives felt that a uniformed officer being assigned to the Unit would not be appropriate. The most practical response, in the absence of any evidence of foul play, was still believed to be through the local police station. In Rachel’s case there had only ever been a gut feeling. ‘Gut feeling,’ responded Elizabeth Barber. ‘It was probably the nagging gut feeling of the Missing Persons Unit which prevented an almost perfect murder slipping through the hands of the police.’

One result came from that meeting between the Barbers and the police. A new clause was added into the Victoria Police Manual in relation to the investigation of missing persons, stating that members of the police force should be aware of the need for sensitivity in dealing with family members of missing persons and ensure they are informed, where appropriate, of relevant police procedures and investigation processes.

Over the coming months there were a number of adjournments as witness statements were prepared. Caroline Robertson’s case was finally listed for a committal hearing before Magistrate Frank Hender at the Melbourne Magistrates Court on Monday, 31 January 2000 – ten long months after her victim’s death.

Although Robertson’s lawyers had talked with her on a number of occasions in jail, their interviews had produced very little material to help them build a strong defence case. Indeed, Robertson’s barrister Colin Lovitt, QC, was later to tell the Supreme Court that his client’s apparent amnesia as to the details of the murder had made the case frustrating and difficult for everyone attempting to assist her. This shortage of any real information meant that the defence team had to make its own inquiries on Robertson’s behalf.

Her lawyers managed to trace the pizza shop where she and Rachel Barber had ordered pizza on the evening of Monday, 1 March. They also talked to another person who, Robertson told them, had given her a lift back to Melbourne from Kilmore. She had told her lawyers she had hitchhiked home from the country property, but was unable to tell them any more except that she had buried Rachel Barber there – at the suggestion of others.

Her tale about possible accomplices assisting in the crime remains unclear. Until ten weeks before her final plea hearing, Robertson maintained the story that she was
involved
in the offence but was not the sole perpetrator. She insisted that she had been involved with two others who had abandoned her: Caroline was left to take the blame for the killing.

Robertson’s first few weeks in prison had been a nightmare for her. Greg Sneddon, a Buddhist monk who had spent twenty years working with women accused of serious crimes, said that the new prisoner was pointed out to him shortly after her arrival at Deer Park. He recalls seeing her around the jail, and noting that she appeared ‘vulnerable and at risk’ from the other more seasoned criminals. During that early period of incarceration he made a point of speaking to her, even if only in passing, each time he visited the prison. He often observed that she had black eyes and other unexplained injuries.

In fact Robertson, in her depressive state of mind, was a regular and serious self-mutilator after Rachel Barber’s death, spending time in the prison hospital having treatment for self-inflicted injuries, mostly slashing injuries to her forearms and wrists. At around that time her epileptic seizures became more frequent.

Michael Crewdson, a clinical psychologist appointed by Robertson’s father, David Reid, to treat his daughter in the days following her arrest, was well aware that the accused was suicidal during that time. Crewdson had the task of helping to keep her alive. He had been given a bundle of documents and letters written by Robertson over a seven-year period, beginning when she was just thirteen, and these helped him compile a psychological profile of her.

While she was in custody, detectives from the Homicide Squad were building their own profile of Robertson. They had already begun to interview her colleagues at Austalk Communications and former workmates from Kompass Australia.

Detective Sergeant Paul Ross said it was a striking feature of the case that no one knew much about Caroline Robertson. Her only associates appeared to be the people she worked with, and they said she kept very much to herself. None of her former colleagues described themselves as a friend of hers, nor were they aware of the names of any of Robertson’s friends outside work.

Information from Rachel’s sister Ashleigh-Rose confirmed the possibility that the suspect had developed an unusual interest in the young dancer at least three months before her disappearance. Ashleigh-Rose told police that Caroline had telephoned their home in the summer holidays before Rachel was murdered, asking for the dates of birth of each of the Barber girls. Ashleigh-Rose gave Robertson her own details, and those of her sister Heather. But she had to call to Rachel in the backyard swimming pool to check on her birth date.

Elizabeth Barber had asked why Robertson needed this information. So Ashleigh-Rose asked the question and was told it was for her university project. Police suspected that this was the data Robertson needed to enable her to apply for a birth certificate in Rachel Barber’s name. They also knew, from information the dead girl’s parents gave them, that a couple of years earlier Robertson had taken a series of photographs of thirteen-year-old Rachel, claiming it was for her VCE project.

Another incident that now seemed relevant had occurred three years before Rachel disappeared. It had taken place in the front garden of the Barbers’ old house in Mont Albert when Rachel was just twelve. She had been playing in the street with another girl when Caroline approached her, asking if she could be her friend. Rachel, uneasy at the prospect of being ‘friends’ with a girl so much older, had retreated indoors.

Four days after Robertson was charged with murdering Rachel Barber, Detective Sergeant Paul Ross from the Homicide Squad interviewed the suspect’s supervisor at Austalk Communications, Cathryn Felstead. Miss Felstead, then the dealer support manager, said in a sworn statement that Robertson had been a good worker who was efficient, punctual and self-motivated. A quick learner, she had been with the company since November 1998 as a sales coordinator, liaising with customers and internal staff. She got on well with everyone, but did not reveal much about herself. People knew Robertson was a vegetarian. And most of those who worked with her were aware of her background of family disharmony. She did not get along with her mother, and did not like her stepmother, claiming that her father’s new wife supposedly preferred her two younger sisters.

Robertson regularly spoke about her father. She had left her flat in St Kilda to live at his home in Toorak while she looked for somewhere else to live. She told Miss Felstead that her father had asked her to leave because she had arrived home late one night. After that she moved to her flat in Prahran. She also told her boss about a property her father had, north of Melbourne, where she had spent time with her family in younger days. She used to swim in the dam there.

Robertson claimed that she generally went to bed early on Friday nights, woke around midnight, got dressed up, and went out partying and clubbing with her friends. But the police could find no friends to interview. At her later plea hearing, Robertson’s barrister confirmed that she was, in fact, a lonely girl who appeared to have no friends or social life.

Once she told a former workmate about a male friend who shared her interest in motor racing and with whom she had spent a weekend. But she did not name him or mention him again. Another time she spoke of an ex-boyfriend, but again did not identify him.

Police learnt that Robertson had told her Austalk supervisor and her former Kompass workmates that she had a circle of friends in the theatre. Then she claimed they had moved to Sydney. One, she told everyone, was in television commercials.

One Kompass colleague, Josephine Fsadni, elaborated on this, saying that Robertson had told her of a boy she knew who was in the TV industry. And she mentioned a friend called Christian who had moved to New South Wales.

Robertson’s Kompass colleagues Carmel Rosendale and Sarah Dean were surprised when she told them about her show business friends and the theatre group she had once belonged to. Robertson had confided in Carmel that she wanted to obtain theatre work, perhaps working backstage. She said she had done it before on a voluntary basis.

Her Austalk supervisor also expressed surprise when Robertson revealed this interest to her, and admits she was taken aback when Robertson talked about her acting circle. ‘She didn’t appear like someone who would be involved in that area,’ recalled Miss Felstead. ‘She seemed very interested in the Internet and spoke of it several times. I thought she was more inclined to the telecommunications industry than the arts.’

In fact it seems that Robertson probably
was
serious about wanting to join a theatre group. But then, nobody really knew her at all …

The only person Caroline appeared to know who had a performing role or belonged to any kind of showbiz circle was Rachel Barber. Talented, slim and pretty, Rachel was popular. She really
did
have a boyfriend. And other friends. Lots of them. Many were dancers and performers. She had been modelling and, as Robertson noted in her later writings, had moved to a new dance school. Rachel Barber seemed to have a promising life ahead of her.

But if Robertson was depressed about herself and her life, it was not apparent to colleagues. There was little hint of inner pain when Robertson first met her new Austalk colleague Donna Waters, back in November 1998.

To Donna, Robertson seemed ‘a friendly type of person’ who appeared to have no trouble talking to her. But she quickly became aware of Robertson’s family problems. Donna recounted a conversation in which Caroline Robertson claimed that her mother, Gail Reid, had taken out a restraining order on her and that her father didn’t talk to her. No mention of a restraining order was ever made in court, however, and it would have been relevant to the defendant’s prior character if it had existed. When police at Missing Persons conducted their background search, nothing of the kind showed up on the police computer.

Donna Waters said she would often go for lunch with Robertson, along with another colleague, Sally Arthur. But neither of the girls saw Robertson socially or visited her new flat.

Donna did, however, recall meeting Robertson outside the block of flats two days after Rachel Barber disappeared on Monday, 1 March 1999. She had been asked to return some money lent to her by Robertson a couple of weeks earlier. Robertson had written a cheque for $320, and agreed that the money could be repaid after their mid-March payday. But then she suddenly rang Donna on Tuesday, 2 March, asking for the money back. She said she needed it to pay a removalist who was coming first thing the next morning to take some property from the flat to her father’s country house. On the Monday Robertson had left a message on her supervisor’s voicemail, stating that she was sick and would not be coming to work. This was unusual for her. She had only telephoned in sick once before, in early February.

Robertson had gone to work the day after Rachel had disappeared, but looked decidedly pale and unwell. She was unusually quiet and her boss, concerned about her health, drove her home to Trinian Street, dropping her off outside the flats.

Then, later that day, Robertson phoned Donna Waters on her mobile asking her to repay the money she owed. She rang Donna again very early the next day, checking that she was bringing the money around. Donna drove to the flat to find Robertson waiting outside in the street. There was no sign of a removal van, which she thought odd. She gave Robertson $100 before driving her to the nearest ATM, where Robertson took another $100 from her. Donna promised to repay the remainder before the end of the week.

On the way back, Donna asked where the removalist was. Robertson said she had left the back door open for him in case he arrived while they were out. Again, there was no sign of a van on their return to the flats. Robertson then told Waters she was moving furniture to her father’s holiday house without his knowledge and intended to store it in a shed there.

Robertson’s supervisor at Austalk, Cathryn Felstead, recalled Robertson mentioning the case of the missing girl in passing when the story was first on the news. Robertson said she knew the girl, but she wasn’t concerned because, she said, the girl had done it before. She implied that it was a bit of a joke.