Well its been a funny start to the proceedings over here ayt Brisbane’S Supreme Court, where 69 year old Garry Reginald Dubois (I think I missed an ‘r’ in my previous report; my apologies to the chap in the box for my mistake) is in the dock facing trial on 3 charges of murder, 2 of rape – oddly enough ‘straight’ rape (if any alleged violent crime can be called such a thing) even though the charges involve children under 14 – and 1 of deprivation of liberty, which allegedly involved Dubois being a party to taking the McCulkin three from their homes against their will.

They are odd charges, for reasons which will become apparent as the days roll by, but they are reasons that I am not at liberty to divulge in any detail if I wish to maintain mine. Liberty that is, contempt of court being an area of the law with which I have no desire to tangle, now or at anytime in the future.

Each of the charges pertain to offences allegedly conducted in company with one Vincent O’Dempsey, who would have been sitting there in the dock with Dubois as his co-accused and indeed according to the indictment the principal offender. In a huge stroke of luck for both men however – and a body blow to the prosecution – their trials were split after the defense won their argument for doing so, and now Dubois sits as still as Botany Bay on a windless night behind the perspex that surrounds the dock, alone and palely loitering as he stares expressionlessly straight ahead at the judge as lead prosecutor David Meredith details the Crown case against him.

For a man whose fate lies in one of the two polar opposite directions of either being home to make the gravy for the Christmas roast or, in the alternative, being banged up in a state penitentiary for life, Dubois looks remarkably calm, like a man who has traveled deep inside himself and found an inner peace unknown and unfathomable to an ADHD/PTSD sufferer like me.

Or maybe he’s just accepted that his fate is well beyond his control, and stoically accepts the reality of that truth. It’s all up to his defense team and the good men and women of the jury now and Dubois, who is many kilograms lighter than in the pictures that have previously been shown publicly of him, is old and wise enough to know it.

I don’t know if it is possible for a man looking down the barrel of dying in a cell to sleep soundly at night, but prosecutor David Meredith – curiously one of three men named Meredith who will feature prominently in this trial, none of them related, the other two being former associates of Dubois’ and upcoming witnesses named Doug and Keith – is doing everything he can to ensure the accused gets his rest, for the opening of his case is staggering in its strangeness.

Meredith rambles all over the place as he tells the jury what the charges are all about, and if I – who has followed the case for years – find myself confused as I do, then I can only wonder what on earth the jury members who are brand new to it must be thinking. In fact so odd is what Meredith is presenting that if you didn’t know better you’d think he was merely going through the motions rather than presenting the case that he hopes will end a 42 year-old mystery with six verdicts of guilty being pronounced and Dubois being whisked away to jail for the term of his natural life, however long that may be for a man of three score and nine years.

Given what we’ve seen today though Meredith’s going to be pushing what appears to be a barrow heavily laden with evidential problems up a very steep courtroom hill. In fact you can take plenty of 6-4 against about a conviction and 6-1 about all six and I’ll let you on for plenty and then I’ll let you on for more.

I’ll tell you why in just a second.

First I have to phone home to the Bead Twirler and ask her what’s on the menu for dessert.