Note: This is the conclusion of last week’s story of the death of First World War veteran William Norrish at the hands of his landlord, William Callahan, in Guelph in 1946.
Crown Attorney J.M. Kearns held William Callahan in jail on a charge of vagrancy, without bail, while he and the police assembled their murder case against him.
During the week after his arrest on Aug. 17, 1946, Callahan made a least one lengthy statement, which the authorities refused to make public.
The actions of Kearns and the authorities caused more than one person in Guelph to suspect that Callahan was being railroaded.
Though they did not say they suspected irregularities, the management of the Guelph Mercury assigned several reporters to sniff out the story, but they found little, other than inconsistencies among the stories that various witnesses had told.
Meanwhile, Callahan lingered in jail, without bail and without legal representation, which he could not afford. Crown Attorney Kearns told the press Callahan would receive legal aid only if he could prove he was destitute. His only significant asset was his house, which he considered selling.
That situation was too much for J.P. Hammill, a manufacturer of uniforms and work clothes, who for years was something of a renegade among Guelph’s capitalists.
Hammill called a meeting of friends and supporters of Callahan at his factory on Aug. 23. Callahan was well-known to Hammill, and lived not far from Hammill’s factory.
The result was the formation of a Neighbour’s Committee, which received dozens of donations for Callahan’s legal defence. On Aug. 25 the group hired Guelph lawyer Leo Goetz to defend Callahan at his first hearing, which was to take place the next day.
On Aug. 26 the court, as expected, changed the charge against Callahan from one of vagrancy to first degree murder.
The court heard testimony from several police officers, pathologist Dr. Deadman, who told the court that Norrish had died from a fractured skull, and from undertaker Nathan Tovell. The police testified that Callahan initially refused them admittance to his house. In his defence Callahan told the court the police did not identify themselves, and he had no idea who they were.
During the session Callahan seemed to be unconcerned about the proceedings, and he declined to make a statement to the court. Lawyer Leo Goetz said little, and seemed to be somewhat ineffective as Callahan’s attorney. The judge told Callahan he would stand trial at the fall assizes in Guelph before Justice George Urquhart on Sept. 16, on a charge of first degree murder, and he would remain in custody without bail until then.
The court convened on Sept. 16 as scheduled, and the jury heard the basic outline of the case against Bill Callahan. The jury quickly returned a true bill against him. The trial would begin the following morning.
Callahan’s trial commenced with an outline of the case against him from Crown Attorney J.M. Kearns. He revealed some evidence that he had not disclosed before. Norrish’s sons had come looking for him.
Callahan had been vague and unco-operative with them, said Kearns. Though Callahan did not let them in the house, the sons noticed a strong odor that seemed to be coming from the cellar. They went away and notified the police of their experience and their suspicions.
J.P. Hammill was upset at the initial statement by Kearns, and by the only photograph of Callahan released to the press. It was an unflattering picture. Callahan appeared as an unshaven thug. Hammill talked his friends at the Guelph Mercury into going to the jail to secure a better picture.
The Mercury photographer showed up at the jail, accompanied by colleagues from other papers covering the trial. The jail authorities would not let them see Callahan, and threatened that their cameras would be seized if they took any photographs.
J.M. Kearns presented the case for the prosecution quickly, calling a few witnesses, who he questioned briefly. He concluded his case part way through the second day of the trial. Leo Goetz, Callahan’s lawyer, astonished the court by calling no witnesses for the defense, even though several people had volunteered to be character witnesses.
That meant the proceedings moved to the addresses to the jury. Kearns quotes a couple of the crown witnesses, who had testified that Norrish was a quarrelsome man and a habitual drinker who did not work regularly, and who was very hard to get along with.
Nevertheless, those were not reasons for him to be murdered, Kearns told the jury. He was able sum up the prosecution’s case in about 15 minutes.
Defence lawyer Leo Goetz followed. He told the jury that the crown had not established a motive for the murder.
Norrish had lived as a lodger in Callahan’s house for almost five years. He noted that Norrish was “an unpleasant character,” uttering streams of obscene language and drinking to excess.
He was often “quarrelsome, surly and argumentative,” Goetz said. On the day of his death Callahan had “boiled over,” he argued. That had resulted in a fatal blow from Callahan, who afterwards was afraid to go to the police.
In view of those facts, he argued, the proper charge against Callahan should be one of manslaughter, not first degree murder. An address to the jury from Justice Urquhart followed. The justice seemed to favour the line of argument made by Leo Goetz.
The jury retired to consider the case, and came to a conclusion quickly. They found Callahan guilty on the lesser charge of manslaughter. Justice Urquhart then announced his sentence: ten years in the Kingston Penitentiary. With good behaviour, he would serve seven years.
Court officials told reporters Callahan’s sentence would probably be reduced, and he would likely serve between five and seven years.
Before being taken to Kingston, he would remain in his Guelph cell for 30 days, during which he could decide whether to appeal the verdict.
J.P. Hammill, and others who sided with Bill Callahan, continued to believe that he had not been treated fairly. Like the victim William Norrish, Callahan came from the lower levels of society. Neither man seems to have been particularly intelligent.
In the eyes of Hammill and many others in Guelph, the last of the frequent quarrels between the two men had gotten out of hand. Callahan had no intention of killing his foe, but in the heat of the moment the argument had escalated, leading to the fatal blow.
Afterward, fearful of how he would be treated by the police, Callahan had buried the body in his basement. From the available evidence, that seems to be the best description of the case, but there were no witnesses, so we will never know.
Neither the actions of Guelph’s police, who initially seemed disinterested in the case, nor J.M. Kearns and the Crown Attorney’s office, showed themselves in the best light in the Norrish homicide case.
Today, 67 years later, with better qualified police and prosecutors and more vigilant defence lawyers, such a case would be treated much differently.