Margot Bray, Assistant Curator at the Justice and Police Museum in Sydney chuckles when I recount this yarn. "We Australians do, indeed, have a unique history," she says, "and we also tend towards a gallows sense of humour."

Both elements are front and centre at the Police Museum's "Crimes of Passion" exhibition-a series of posters and artwork by curator and crime writer, Peter Doyle. The accompanying stories are guaranteed to delight the hearts of mystery or crime fiction buffs. Except that these aren't fictional characters or situations dreamed up by the likes of P.D. James, or John Grisham, but real-life men and women who, impelled by jealousy, rage and revenge, stabbed, shot, poisoned, hacked or tortured their victims to death. Despite the sordid and often macabre aspects of violent crime, some tales are bizarre and others are whimsical.

Take Caroline Grills. She looks for all the world like a jolly Girl Guides leader. However, in the tradition of "Arsenic & Old Lace," Grills merrily polished off four friends and family members, and attempted to add three more to her list of victims before the police became suspicious. On analysing the delectable cakes and scones she served up at her tea-parties, they were found to contain Thallium, a colourless and odourless powder generally used as rat poison.

As batty as she was deadly, her defence council had to caution her against chuckling in court, or shaking her head and murmuring "Well, now, fancy that!" as evidence was being produced. It didn't take the jury long to convict her of attempted murder but nothing fazed, she was led out of the dock beaming and singing, "We're off to see the wizard..."

The Police Museum also offers an array of memorabilia, letters, books, police reports and press articles going back in time to the 1800s, focussing on the lives and deeds of notorious thugs who lurked in the back alleys of old Sydney town (an area called "The Rocks").

Escaped convicts usually headed for the Outback where, in order to survive, they looted and terrorized colonial homesteads and cattle ranches. Several of these "bushrangers" such as Jack Donohue, popularly known as "The Wild Colonial Boy" were transformed by public imagination into romantic heroes and have become part of Australian folklore.

In more recent times, two convicts, Kevin Simmonds and Leslie Newcombe, escaped from jail in 1957, thereby triggering the largest manhunt in New South Wales' history. Simmonds was a good-looking dude, and he assumed near movie star status, with a fan club cheering him on, and letters of support pouring into the newspapers. Eventually both men were caught, found guilty of manslaughter (they'd hammered a warden to death with a cricket bat), and sentenced to life imprisonment.

The Justice and Police Museum originally functioned as the Water Police Court and Police Station, and its stolid Victorian architecture has been enlivened by the addition of life-sized cut-outs of cops and robbers chasing each other around a veranda and climbing onto the roof-a typical example of wry Aussie humour.

The rooms, although renovated, still retain their original ambience, particularly the dignified wood-panelled courtroom, complete with Judge's Podium, and Reporters' gallery. The Police Station was never intended to function as a permanent detention centre, so the prisoner's benches, enclosed in a cage-like structure, were sometimes crammed with as many as fifteen of the accused, as their cases were heard in rapid succession. They were then either hauled off to jail or released onto the street.

Of the original three temporary detention rooms, only one remains open for public viewing-a claustrophobic cell with crater-pocked stone walls, bare floorboards and a single hard wooden bench. "There were often twenty to thirty temporary overnight 'guests' accommodated here." Margot says. "They had no running water, no toilet - other than that bucket," she points to a receptacle in the corner, "and minimal ventilation. So, at night..."

She breaks off, heads out of the door, and slams it shut while turning out the single naked bulb dangling from the ceiling. For about thirty seconds I stand in thick, suffocating darkness, and Margot grins impishly as she yanks open the door again. "Bet you can imagine what it was like! The overcrowding, the filth, the vermin and the stench of vomit, sweat, urine and faeces!"

I'm glad to move on!

A display of weapons actually used by violent criminals is as gruesome as it is fascinating-vicious hatchets, cleavers and knives, rusty handmade pistols, some fitted with blades above their muzzles, crude flintlocks and rifles and several clubs-including a hefty, spiked iron mace. Although now cleaned and tagged, they still evoke visions of mangled flesh, spilled brain tissue and splattered blood.

Of all the rooms in the Justice and Police Museum, none is more poignant than the Shrine of Remembrance, dedicated to those members of the police force who have been killed in the line of duty. The memorial tablet shows two freshly engraved names and Margot adds that one more will soon be added-a policeman whose tragic death had been headlined in the news just a day after my arrival in Australia.

About the photos:
Top: Cops and crooks chase one another across the veranda and roof of the Justice and
Police Museum.
Next: Jovial murderess, Caroline Grills.
Next: Her infamous scones laced with poison.
Next: The courtroom. Pretty much the way it was.
Bottom: Muzzles and Muskets of murderous intent.

If You Go:
— The Justice and Police Museum, open only on weekends from 10 am to 5 pm (except for January when it is open daily) is located at the corner of Phillip and Albert Streets, a two minute walk away from Circular Quay and train station.
— The "Crimes of Passion" exhibit goes to October 12, 2003. General Admission is $7, Concession, $3 or Family $17. (All prices in Australian dollars)
— For more information on this and other up-coming special events at the Museum,
phone 02 9252 1144.
— Or visit their web-site at www.hht.nsw.gov.au/museums/justice_&_police_museum/justice_&_police_museum

Margaret Deefholts is a Canadian author and freelance travel writer/photographer.