Automaton storyline
Set in Canberra, Automaton is a story of violence and secrets; of a boy almost bashed to death before being arrested for murder during a botched robbery; of the victim’s family, pathological in its attempts to keep its skeletons in the cupboard; and of defence counsel, balanced on the razor edge of fear.
February in Canberra can be hot. Moisture-sucking hot. And new into that heat from Sydney and on day one as a senior solicitor with the ACT Legal Aid office Elisabeth Sharman is passed a case that sees her overstepping the boundaries of the client-lawyer and witness-lawyer relationships.
The client
A nineteen year old fresh-faced boy — just out from three years of jackerooing in Western Australia and driving across the continent to Sydney to surprise visit an older sister he hasn’t seen for years — becomes entangled in the seemingly senseless murder of a shop owner during a brief stopover in Canberra. A boy who is himself the victim of a severe beating that resulted in alleged amnesia.
Elisabeth’s problems
1. Delving into witness backgrounds she discovers everyone involved has a history of violence. Everyone, that is, except her client.
2. The client’s older sister who can’t be found. In fact, the office has had no luck in tracing any of his family. Do they exist, or is everything he says a fabrication?
3. Her instructing solicitor, who cottons on very quickly that she’s overstepping the mark. How can she keep him from becoming a nuisance?
Robert Murphy, the instructing solicitor
Wonders — given what he finds out about Elisabeth’s experience and track record — why this particular case has her running around like a headless chook.
Wonders — when she accepts his advances as readily as he is to give them, seems to enjoy the experience and then acts like it never happened — whether he’s been seduced into silence. Wonders why he keeps silent.
And wonders what the hell is going on, especially when the rumour is that the Crown prosecutor, Queen’s Counsel Thierry Richards, is a past boyfriend. An opponent Elisabeth reveals having gone up against three times, and won against once only and admits that she expects this case will make the score 3:1.
The dead man’s family
Antagonistic, evasive. Is this normal behaviour from a victim’s relatives? Or do they have problems of their own they’d rather keep under wraps?
Automaton page 1
It wasn't his appearance that unnerved her, unexpected though it was with its neat new track runnelling the middle of his chin, curving through cheek and across the outer corner of his right eye to disappear into the hairline. It wasn't even that they were alike in colouring and delicacy of features.
It was his expression. A mixture of hope and no hope.
He was red-haired, fresh smooth skinned, freckled with a faded tan, 19, and not far from the trial of his life.
For murder.
He sat straight-backed, knees wide, hands hanging, in a hard chair in front of a square metal table and looked at her. Straight at her. What was she going to do for him? What could she do for him? The question was there. In his eyes. And she thought the answer just as probably was in hers. But she said, "I want to help you."
His feet shoved wide forced hers back under her chair. "They've all said that." His hair was back-brushed and short. The deeply burnt freckles merged like a birthmark coating his nose and cheekbones. "What makes you any different?"
"I believe you."
A supercilious mask disguised fright, and vulnerability. He snorted. "That I didn't do it?"
"No. That you can't remember."
Again reaction was distorted. She rubbed a hand up the back of her neck, feeling the unfamiliar rasp of a newly razored hairline.
"Why?"
"Because the man's wife says she saw you do it. Why lie?"
"So you think I'm guilty?"
"You don't think you are."
"No."
She forgot her hair and pulled her feet forward. It was her turn to ask "Why?"
He moved his away. "Because I can't imagine doing it." He thrust himself over the table, hands clasping, eyes like a green rush of spring.
She had to swallow. "Then we need to have a look at who did, don't we?"
He sat considering, then eased himself away, leaving his hands on the table. "Why can't you do it?" He spoke to the third person in the room.
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