Martin Van Beynen has an interesting opinion piece on stuff. Apparently he sat throughout the entire Bain trial, and has some things to say that should make a number of people uncomfortable.
I thought many of the defence arguments had been exposed as almost ludicrously implausible and its experts revealed as endorsing some very strained interpretations of the evidence.
The police weren’t perfect either.
Not that the police case was without flaws. If the police had kept samples taken from Robin Bain’s hands, and also removed and retained carpet that contained a crucial bloodied footprint, the result might have been different.
David Bain’s lawyers were able to argue that the police had removed an opportunity for him to prove his innocence, but the police’s lack of diligence could also be seen as a great stroke of luck for Bain.
A point that seems quite lost on many Bain supporters.
He then addresses the jury.
What is a little surprising is not a single person out of the 12 in this, Bain’s second jury, was prepared to argue strongly for a guilty verdict when such a damning case was in front of them. The verdict after only five hours shows that little argument could have taken place.
Disturbing indeed. This was a high profile case, and it seems odd that so little discussion was undertaken.
Several aspects about this jury should worry us all.
The two jurors – a man and a woman – who were seen to congratulate Bain after the verdicts and who went to his celebratory party were the same two who spent the last three weeks of the trial paying little attention to the evidence and closing addresses. They giggled and wrote messages to each other.
Pity nothing was done about it.
He finally shares why he thinks the verdict was wrong. It’s hard to argue with what he has to say.
The reasons I am sure Bain killed his family are twofold.
The first is the incredible coincidences that we have to accept if Bain is innocent.
For instance, we have to accept, just for a start, that the following facts all have perfectly innocent explanations not connected with the death of the Bain family Bain’s clear and recent fingerprints on the murder rifle, the bruises on his face and torso, the blood of his brother on his clothes, a 20-minute delay before ringing the police after finding bodies, hearing his sister gurgling (and failing to help her), convenient changes in his story, a lens from damaged glasses (of no use to anyone else and found in his bedroom) turning up in his dead brother’s room, bizarre behaviour before and after the killings, not noticing the blood all over the laundry and putting the jersey worn by the killer in the washing.
However, the best evidence relates to the implausibility of Robin Bain shooting his family and then himself. If David Bain is not the culprit, Robin had a settled night in his caravan (we know this by the amount and quality of urine in his bladder) and then got up about 5.50am, after David had left on his paper round.
Despite David admitting he hated his father and siding strongly with his mother in every dispute, he was the one Robin wanted to spare, so he had to be out of the house.
….His first stop on the way to the house where his family slept was at the letterbox, where he removed the newspaper.
Why do you collect a newspaper you have no intention of reading?
He also put on David’s white dress gloves, forgetting he did not want to implicate David and also overlooking that, since he was going to end it all, it wouldn’t matter much if people knew it was him, anyway.
He loaded both magazines one five-shot and the other 10-shot with hollow-nosed .22 bullets and then headed towards the bedrooms….
Stephen, however, had woken up and grabbed the silencer on the rifle before Robin could shoot. When he did, the bullet went through Stephen’s hand and tore a gouge out of his scalp.
Stephen, pumped up with adrenaline, fought for his life, but Robin, belying a frame described as cadaverous, soon had the better of the brave teenager, strangling him first with his T-shirt and, when he was incapacitated, putting a bullet through the top of his head, like he had done or was to do with Laniet.
He then went down to Arawa’s room. She had got up and, as she retreated into her room, he shot her in the forehead.
By now, he was covered in blood, mainly from Stephen. Did it matter, since he was going to take his own life? It did.
He went back to the caravan, perhaps having already neatly placed his blood-spattered clothes and blood-soaked socks in the laundry basket. He did not wash his hands.
To meet his maker, he chose an old pair of light-blue tracksuit pants, an equally delapidated T-shirt, an old business shirt, a brown woollen jersey and a thick hoodie. He also donned a green knitted beanie. He put on clean socks and shoes, but no underpants.
Then, he went back to the house to take his own life.
Time was marching on.
Read the whole thing.