Jason K. Foster - The Dark Man: Australias First Serial Killer

THE

DARK MAN

Australias first serial killer

JASON K. FOSTER

Bibliography

Blue Mountains Organisations

For further information and guided walking tours of the lagoon and of Lee Wellers grave contact the Glenbrook Historical Society (PO BOX 38, Glenbrook, 2773) or the Blue Mountains Association of Cultural Heritage Associations - www.bluemountainsheritage.com.au/history/

Books

Travers, Robert, Murder in the Blue Mountains: Being the True Story of one of Australias Most Notorious Killers, Hutchison Australia, Melbourne, 1972

Newspapers circa 1896/97

The Adelaide Advertiser

The Argus (Melbourne)

The Brisbane Courier

The Kalgoorlie Argus

The Mercury (Hobart)

The Nepean Times

The Northern Star

The Rockhampton Capricornian

The South Australian Register

The Sydney Morning Herald

The San Francisco Call

The West Australian

Epilogue

A New Path

7 August 1896

As the Marlborough entered Sydney Heads, Frank Harwood stood at the bow examining the sandstone cliffs and rugged bushland lining the coast. Night was descending, and the majesty of the harbour intensified as the setting sun sent glistening sparkles skipping over the crests of the small waves. A cool evening wind blew, and the clouds began to thicken in the skies above. The harbour was quiet, with most ships preferring to sit the night out and set sail in the morning. The Marlborough docked in Circular Quay with Harwood still standing at the bow, watching the residents of Sydney moving to and fro along the waterfront, silhouetted under the street lanterns, some making their way home, others to an inn for a quiet drink after a hard days labour.

The Marlborough eventually moored, and the passengers soon disembarked. Walking down the gangway, Harwood had a spring in his step as he entered the crowds, sensing opportunity with every new face; his prey, his next victim, was somewhere among them. Turning down Pitt Street, he examined several hotels before finding one that took his fancy: Gilhams Hotel.

Inside the entrance, he found a slightly rounded, middle-aged lady sitting behind a large wooden desk.

Good evening, sir, she said. I am Mrs Gilham. How may I help you?

Good evening, madam, my name is Frank Harwood. Do you have any beds?

Yes, sir, we do. Do you have any idea how long you will be staying for?

Not really; a few days, a week maybe.

Mrs Gilham smiled and asked for some identification. Rummaging through his bag, Harwood pulled out the certificates and handed them to her. She took a slight interest in the clinking and clanging that came from his bag, but paid little attention, as travellers who were carrying everything they owned were a familiar sight in her establishment. After reading the certificates and recording his name in her ledger, she handed them back to him.

Thank you, Mr Harwood. Are you intending to do some mining whilst youre in New South Wales?

Yes, maam, I intend to head out west shortly.

Well, best of luck, she said as she handed him his room key.

Thank you, but I doubt Ill need it! he replied jovially as he took the key and headed upstairs to find his room.

Over the next few days, Harwood familiarised himself with the centre of the city, its grid-patterned streets making it easy to find his way around. With each passing day, the voice inside him grew stronger; it was time to set the first stage of his plan into motion. He walked along Pitt Street until he reached George Street, which he followed to Hunter Street, and then proceeded to the corner of Phillip Street, where he entered The Sydney Morning Heralds advertising offices, spoke briefly to a clerk while he placed his ad, and then returned to the hotel to wait. The ad read:

Mining partner wanted to go equal shares. Expedition to western goldfields. Apply Gilhams Hotel, Pitt Street.

12 August 1896

After enjoying a roast lamb dinner, Frank Harwood sat in the drawing room smoking a cigarette as he read through the dozens of responses to his ad. One in particular intrigued him, and he read it over and over again.

Dear Mr Harwood, would love to join you on this expedition. Happy to go half shares. Meet you at Mrs Gilhams Hotel tomorrow night at 6 pm. Mr Burgess.

Many respondents had come and gone over the last few days, but none had been suitable; they either knew too many people or had large families. Several had appeared over the course of the last hour, and each time a new man had entered the room, Harwood had looked up to see if it was Mr Burgess. Unfortunately for them, they were travellers looking for a room, and Mrs Gilham had politely turned each one away, as her hotel was full. Now the bell above the door jingled once more, and Harwood looked up expectantly. A young man in his late twenties, slim with blond hair and a neat, tidy moustache stepped through the doorway. Harwood had seen his kind before, in the Scandinavian countries, and something inside him sensed that this was his man.

Good evening, madam, the man said. My name is Mr Burgess.

Good evening, sir, Mrs Gilham replied. I am sorry, but I cannot offer you a room, as we are currently full.

Burgess looked slightly confused, but before he could utter any response, Harwood was at his side. Its all right, Mrs Gilham, hes with me.

Burgess smiled, revealing several gold fillings.

Will you be checking out tomorrow then, Mr Harwood? said Mrs Gilham.

Yes, maam, I believe I will be.

Well, seeing as this man is a friend of yours, I think I can muster up a spare room for one night. It is only a tiny single that I rarely use. I hope that will be acceptable.

Any room is fine, maam, Burgess said politely.