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Evil Conjectures
If you Google 'Dr Stephen Edwards' you will find news stories of him allegedly murdering his elderly mother, being sent to jail for three months and then on bail for four years until the case was dropped. Edwards, a former general practitioner who specialised in nursing home patients and palliative care, was deregistered after the charge of euthanising his mother was brought against him.
The case was closed after he was diagnosed with terminal cancer and given six to thirteen months to live in January 2020. He left Tasmania to live in inner Sydney. The story of how Edwards was charged with conspiring with his brother to murder his mother confronts the most fundamental questions of life and death, magnified by his own diagnosis of terminal cancer which he stubbornly refuses to accept.
His incarceration in Tasmania's most notorious high-security jail brought him into direct contact with mass murderer Martin Bryant as well as the inequities and perverse injustices of the prison system. Dubbed 'Dr Death' by his fellow inmates, he nevertheless earned their respect. He was only the second person in Australia to be granted bail for murder, and his treatment highlights the lottery that is the justice system. Perversely, the dropping of the charges against him makes it impossible to clear his name. His narrative of the events that led to his murder charge and his fight for justice makes for compelling reading.
The case was closed after he was diagnosed with terminal cancer and given six to thirteen months to live in January 2020. He left Tasmania to live in inner Sydney. The story of how Edwards was charged with conspiring with his brother to murder his mother confronts the most fundamental questions of life and death, magnified by his own diagnosis of terminal cancer which he stubbornly refuses to accept.
His incarceration in Tasmania's most notorious high-security jail brought him into direct contact with mass murderer Martin Bryant as well as the inequities and perverse injustices of the prison system. Dubbed 'Dr Death' by his fellow inmates, he nevertheless earned their respect. He was only the second person in Australia to be granted bail for murder, and his treatment highlights the lottery that is the justice system. Perversely, the dropping of the charges against him makes it impossible to clear his name. His narrative of the events that led to his murder charge and his fight for justice makes for compelling reading.
236 pages, Kindle Edition
Published February 24, 2022
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January 30, 2023
This book recounts a very curious case of alleged parricide, by the author Dr Stephen Edwards, that hasn’t received much publicity, except for brief contemporary newspaper reports. It is not mentioned by Andrew Urban in Wrongful Convictions because charges were dropped due to the accused’s state of health: there was no conviction. Edwards, with a practice in NSW, visited his parents in Sandy Bay when his father was dying and his mother was extremely ill with renal failure, stroke, dementia and other serious conditions following a fall. He assured his parents and their GP he couldn’t treat them as patients, but as a son and doctor he wanted to be with them at their end. He also felt obliged to help them with pain relief and sleeping medications. His father and mother had a pact, they had openly discussed, that when one died the other would follow. They had been devastated when another son had died in Thailand, from which the parents never recovered, both going downhill fast. The father died first, then Edwards administered sleep medication and pain relief but not in lethal doses to his mother, who also died.
The story thereafter is complicated and hard to follow. The Tasmanian Police immediately charged him with murder. Edwards is trying to describe the case against him, to argue against it and to justify himself. Understandably, he writes with self-pity, and sarcasm directed at the police and at those who gave evidence to the police, which rather spoils his story. Tas Police seemed utterly determined to convict him of murder, on very tricky grounds. Edwards was tending to his parents in conjunction with their GP. He administered medication for relief, not terminations: this was the central point at issue. He was charged in 2016 and imprisoned in Risdon high security prison for those likely to suicide and for the insane: sleep was almost impossible, the guards quite sadistic. After 4 months he was placed in medium security pending bail application, which was granted, unusually for those convicted of murder. The next four years he was under bail conditions, and with numerous hearings, adjournments, and what seems like deliberate stalling by the DPP’s department, and by Linda Mason in particular, so he says. The prosecution drew a line up of witnesses who bore grudges against Edwards on quite irrelevant grounds: a disgruntled relative who thought she should have shared in the parental estate, a nurse who Edwards had ticked off, an ex-partner of Edwards who drank a bottle of Cointreau a day. His brother Robert was charged with assault on a separate matter but later the two cases were linked, Robert then being charged with conspiracy to tamper with evidence against Edwards. The charges by the prosecution were, even allowing for bitterness on Edwards’ part in describing them, frankly ludicrous. Edwards had previously, but with the legal processes strictly followed, conducted voluntary assisted dying, which was raised against him in this case. Evidence for the prosecution was not shared with the defence. He also had written 22 short stories about death, all based on real cases. It prompts the thought that had Agatha Christie lived in Tasmania she could have been charged with murder. The evidence against him was all circumstantial. As he points out, there must no alternative hypothesis for his guilt: the alternative here was that his mother was dying from several serious conditions. The
parallels with the Neill-Fraser case are striking, a point Edwards makes repeatedly.
Eventually after four years of intense police and judicial work, charges against Edwards and his brother were dropped on the grounds of Edwards’ condition with terminal cancer. Thus, none of the charges against him were tested in court, which again like Neill-Fraser, did him much reputational damage.
In an Epilogue he describes how he is warned that the Tasmanian Police are the only force in Australia that is above investigation for wrongful arrest. Three lawyers told him to stay quiet or incur the wrath of the Tasmanian Police “who could make my remaining time alive as miserable as they have done for others… who dared to question a bungled investigation.”
Well, he did make a fuss: this book for example. A similar case of parricide was found in NSW where he then lived, and he believed that attempts were made to link him to that case, but it didn’t work. He goes on to describe the course of his cancer, and rails against the system in Tasmania, with the unholy alliance between the Police and Justice Departments. The rest of the book is a series of family photos, technical medical reports, and his short stories about death. This book is more a scrap book of his experience than a calm and reasoned analysis of his case.
Nevertheless, several things emerge. The almost vindictive pursuit of him by the Dept. of Public Prosecutions: deliberately it seems delaying closure for four years, withholding of evidence from the defence, police and DPP working together to get a prosecution, is so parallel to the Neill- Fraser Case. All this is frightening to any Tasmanians who might find themselves in the sights of the Police Department. The separation of powers seems as meaningless in Tasmania as it will be in Israel if Netanyahu gets his way. The cost to the taxpayer of endless hearings and adjournments, travel by Tas police to NSW to search Edwards’ premises, seize his computer, documents and medications in his surgery are to the layman completely over the top.
Those interested in the shenanigans in the Sue Neill-Fraser Case will find the Edwards Case reason to redouble their concern.
The story thereafter is complicated and hard to follow. The Tasmanian Police immediately charged him with murder. Edwards is trying to describe the case against him, to argue against it and to justify himself. Understandably, he writes with self-pity, and sarcasm directed at the police and at those who gave evidence to the police, which rather spoils his story. Tas Police seemed utterly determined to convict him of murder, on very tricky grounds. Edwards was tending to his parents in conjunction with their GP. He administered medication for relief, not terminations: this was the central point at issue. He was charged in 2016 and imprisoned in Risdon high security prison for those likely to suicide and for the insane: sleep was almost impossible, the guards quite sadistic. After 4 months he was placed in medium security pending bail application, which was granted, unusually for those convicted of murder. The next four years he was under bail conditions, and with numerous hearings, adjournments, and what seems like deliberate stalling by the DPP’s department, and by Linda Mason in particular, so he says. The prosecution drew a line up of witnesses who bore grudges against Edwards on quite irrelevant grounds: a disgruntled relative who thought she should have shared in the parental estate, a nurse who Edwards had ticked off, an ex-partner of Edwards who drank a bottle of Cointreau a day. His brother Robert was charged with assault on a separate matter but later the two cases were linked, Robert then being charged with conspiracy to tamper with evidence against Edwards. The charges by the prosecution were, even allowing for bitterness on Edwards’ part in describing them, frankly ludicrous. Edwards had previously, but with the legal processes strictly followed, conducted voluntary assisted dying, which was raised against him in this case. Evidence for the prosecution was not shared with the defence. He also had written 22 short stories about death, all based on real cases. It prompts the thought that had Agatha Christie lived in Tasmania she could have been charged with murder. The evidence against him was all circumstantial. As he points out, there must no alternative hypothesis for his guilt: the alternative here was that his mother was dying from several serious conditions. The
parallels with the Neill-Fraser case are striking, a point Edwards makes repeatedly.
Eventually after four years of intense police and judicial work, charges against Edwards and his brother were dropped on the grounds of Edwards’ condition with terminal cancer. Thus, none of the charges against him were tested in court, which again like Neill-Fraser, did him much reputational damage.
In an Epilogue he describes how he is warned that the Tasmanian Police are the only force in Australia that is above investigation for wrongful arrest. Three lawyers told him to stay quiet or incur the wrath of the Tasmanian Police “who could make my remaining time alive as miserable as they have done for others… who dared to question a bungled investigation.”
Well, he did make a fuss: this book for example. A similar case of parricide was found in NSW where he then lived, and he believed that attempts were made to link him to that case, but it didn’t work. He goes on to describe the course of his cancer, and rails against the system in Tasmania, with the unholy alliance between the Police and Justice Departments. The rest of the book is a series of family photos, technical medical reports, and his short stories about death. This book is more a scrap book of his experience than a calm and reasoned analysis of his case.
Nevertheless, several things emerge. The almost vindictive pursuit of him by the Dept. of Public Prosecutions: deliberately it seems delaying closure for four years, withholding of evidence from the defence, police and DPP working together to get a prosecution, is so parallel to the Neill- Fraser Case. All this is frightening to any Tasmanians who might find themselves in the sights of the Police Department. The separation of powers seems as meaningless in Tasmania as it will be in Israel if Netanyahu gets his way. The cost to the taxpayer of endless hearings and adjournments, travel by Tas police to NSW to search Edwards’ premises, seize his computer, documents and medications in his surgery are to the layman completely over the top.
Those interested in the shenanigans in the Sue Neill-Fraser Case will find the Edwards Case reason to redouble their concern.
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