- Melissa Davey, Guardian Australia's Melbourne bureau chief, has written this extremely comprehensive account of the Cardinal George Pell legal saga - the committal hearing, the two trials, the Victorian Supreme Court appeal and the High Court appeal. But what makes this book utterly compelling and exceptional is its broader perspective. It delves into the legal system and its processes and protocols in cases like these, and explains them very clearly and in enlightening detail.
- I've read just about everything written on the Pell saga, including the excellent David Marr, Louise Milligan and Lucie Morris-Marr books, but this consummate volume by Melissa Davey is the best of the best. (It's a Stella Prize winner for sure, and you heard it here first!)
- In very lucid prose she tells the inside story and conveys a real sense of the unfolding drama. She’s a fly on the wall to every conversation no matter how 'private'.
- For example we learn a lot about Judge Peter Kidd and how carefully he ran the committal and trial processes. His leadership was impressive, including guiding the minute and detailed discussions about procedure and protocol. He even brought to bear considerable authority over the highly experienced and respected defence barrister Robert Richter.
- The testimony of every witness, no matter how significant or insignificant, is described in detail, including the numerous choirboys in procession after mass on the Sunday in December 1996 when the first instance of Pell's offending was alleged to have taken place.
- Prosecutor Mark Gibson’s four-hour closing address to the jury is reported in full, as is Richter’s two-day address. It’s clear that Davey is more sympathetic to the surgical and restrained Gibson than she is to the dramatic, far more colourful, Richter. And she doesn't withhold her enormous respect for Kidd and his frequent and seemingly necessary reprimanding of Richter.
- She tells the story about the second boy who became a drug addict and died in his early-thirties. She interviews his father. It's very sad.
- She also discloses the stress the Suppression Order put on the eight journalists who attended the trials, particularly after the guilty verdict was handed down. Leaks were happening and the immense pressure to disclose everything before the order was lifted was intense. But they didn't.
- Davey addresses in full the many rumours circulating on the jury split in the first trial, called 'the mistrial'. No one, not even Judge Kidd, knew the guilty/not guilty numbers. It remains a secret to this day, and it doesn't mean anything.
- The prosecution and defence arguments to the Victorian Court of Appeal are given in detail, as are the responses to the High Court questions. The issues of ‘possibility’ and ‘reasonable doubt’ were central.
- She also addresses the controversial question of the High Court’s assessment as to whether it was legally right for the Appeal judges to watch the video of the complainant’s evidence, rather than just reading the transcript. It judged it wasn’t. The judges were apparently exposing themselves to emotion. (This, to me, is legal silliness writ large!)
- It becomes pretty clear towards the end of this magnificent book that Davey doesn’t like Pell: His response to the (Royal Commission’s) findings was the same as ever. Cold. Dismissive. Resolute. Tone-deaf. And, most of all, disingenuous.
What I have learned through covering the royal commission and the Pell case, trawling through research into abuse and violence, and talking to various experts is that people whom society perceive as being 'good', 'admirable', and 'respectable' can and do commit crimes. Accepting this has proven difficult for society, including the media, which has struggled to tell such conflicting narratives about perpetrators in a way that is accurate while also being respectful to victims. Accolades do not justify or excuse abuse, but may explain why abusers went undetected for so long, or if detected, were excused and celebrated regardless.
And it explains why, despite all of his failures to report and act on child sexual abuse, George Pell is living quietly in Sydney, still a priest, and still a cardinal.