Gangland Robbers by James Morton Page A

and Berriman replied, ‘No thank you, old man, I can carry it myself.’
    When Buckley then tried to take his bag from him, the brave, if foolish, Berriman refused to hand it over and was promptly shot. Murray, wearing a grey suit and a yellow fedora, helped Buckley as he limped along to the getaway car, from time to time turning and waving his revolver at pursuers.
    Two days after the robbery, two women telephoned the police to say they had seen two men burning a briefcase in a yard at 443 Barkly Street,St Kilda. In the early hours of 11 October, the police broke through the doors of the five-roomed detached cottage. When they called out, ‘Hands up,’ Murray replied, ‘They are up.’ Taylor was in bed with his girlfriend, Ida Pender, but of Buckley there was no trace. It was thought that he had been staying with Taylor, but that night he had been out ‘tomcatting’, and on his return, seeing the police, he disappeared.
    Berriman had been taken to a private hospital, where he died at 8.45 a.m. on 21 October 1923. The surgeon had not been able to locate the bullet to remove it. As he lay in bed, he positively identified Buckley as the gunman from a photograph and Murray as being with him. The coroner returned a verdict of wilful murder against both and, perhaps somewhat speculatively, a charge of accessory before the fact for Taylor. The trial was scheduled for November but Murray wanted an adjournment to February, with which the police were happy because they thought it would give them more time to find Buckley.
    On 11 November Taylor was granted bail with two sureties of £500 and went to live at the Queensland Hotel, Bourke Street. He did at least have the courtesy to try to assist his former employee. Almost immediately after his arrest, he had attempted to have Murray rescued from prison and now, out and about himself, he tried again, on 31 January 1924. This time, a warder, who they had planned to bribe with an offer of £250 and a £7 a week pension if he should be dismissed, told the police of the approach. In turn, they seized a car outside the prison, arrested the four men in it, including Taylor’s brother Thomas, and confiscated a rope ladder. There were, in any case, suggestions that Taylor was not being wholly altruistic in his efforts to free Murray—it was thought he might crack and divulge details of the Melbourne underworld. Truth
, for one, thought it was rather fortunate for Murray that the escape attempt had failed.
    The trial was a foregone conclusion. The prosecution alleged that the information about how easy it was to rob the bank came from a former employee who had met Murray in prison and, although Murray denied it, there is no doubt it counted against him. After retiring for an hour and a half, the jury returned a verdict of murder, and Murray was sentenced to death on 22 February 1924. His appeal was heard before the full court on 6 March, with the trial judge, Mr Justice Mann, sitting as one of the judges. ‘When Death’s Wings Fluttered Over Gloom of Criminal Court’, headlined the
Truth
when it had previewed the trial. Now the wings flapped furiously. Meanwhile the evidence—as opposed to suspicion—against Taylor was very thin indeed and really relied on the fact the pair had stayed in his home. On 3 March the charge against him of being an accessory was withdrawn.
    On 5 June 1924 all the men found in the car outside the prison were acquitted of conspiring to release Murray, and Taylor was found not guilty of harbouring him. In the witness box he had given a virtuoso performance, claiming the police were hounding him:
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    I receive no credit for my good deeds to say nothing of the charitable institutions I have assisted and the woman I tried to save recently and the Soldier Boys I got jobs for….
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    And so on, ad nauseam.
    A fortnight before his execution, Murray gave a statement to a news paper:
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    I want to let