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Certain Admissions: A Beach, a Body and a Lifetime of Secrets
Certain Admissions is Australian true crime at its best, and stranger than any crime fiction. It is real-life police procedural, courtroom drama, family saga, investigative journalism, social history, archival treasure hunt - a meditation, too, on how the past shapes the present, and the present the past. On a warm evening in December 1949, two young people met by chance under the clocks at Flinders Street railway station. They decided to have a night on the town. The next morning, one of them, twenty-year-old typist Beth Williams, was found dead on Albert Park Beach. When police arrested the other, Australia was twenty-four-year-old John Bryan Kerr was a son of the establishment, a suave and handsome commercial radio star educated at Scotch College, and Harold Holt's next-door neighbour in Toorak. Police said he had confessed. Kerr denied it steadfastly. There were three dramatic trials attended by enormous crowds, a relentless public campaign proclaiming his innocence involving the first editorials against capital punishment in Australia. For more than a decade Kerr was a Pentridge celebrity, a poster boy for rehabilitation – a fame that burdened him the rest of his life. Then, shortly after his death, another man confessed to having murdered Williams. But could he be believed? 'A work of true detection that not only compels belief in its every detail but has the breathtaking suspense of that very weird and rare for of crime writing that has the truth of a work of art.' Weekend Australian 'Haigh's work is a mesmerising detective story itself . . . [it] finds a new twist in the archives.' The Saturday Paper'A beautifully written, tirelessly researched and ultimately very compelling and true story . . . Fascinating and tragic.' Herald Sun 'The trial of John Bryan Kerr was the first murder trial that I read about in detail, as a boy of eleven. I longed, even then, to know the whole story. Gideon Haigh's book has made the wait worthwhile.' Gerald Murnane 'In carefully and curiously lifting from the shadow the story of a lost girl and a troubled man, Haigh explores a writer's true the space between what is, and what might be.' Sonya Hartnett 'Gideon Haigh understands the real tragedy of murder - it is never really solved.' P. M. Newton
444 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 24, 2015
6 people are currently reading
161 people want to read
About the author
Gideon Haigh
98 books104 followersGideon Clifford Jeffrey Davidson Haigh (born 29 December 1965) is an English-born Australian journalist, who writes about sport (especially cricket) and business. He was born in London, raised in Geelong, and now lives in Melbourne.
Haigh began his career as a journalist, writing on business for The Age newspaper from 1984 to 1992 and for The Australian from 1993 to 1995. He has since contributed to over 70 newspapers and magazines,[2] both on business topics as well as on sport, mostly cricket. He wrote regularly for The Guardian during the 2006-07 Ashes series and has featured also in The Times and the Financial Times.
Haigh has authored 19 books and edited seven more. Of those on a cricketing theme, his historical works includes The Cricket War and Summer Game, his biographies The Big Ship (of Warwick Armstrong) and Mystery Spinner (of Jack Iverson), the latter pronounced The Cricket Society's "Book of the Year", short-listed for the William Hill Sports Book of the Year and dubbed "a classic" by The Sunday Times;[3] anthologies of his writings Ashes 2005 and Game for Anything, as well as Many a Slip, the humorous diary of a club cricket season, and The Vincibles, his story of the South Yarra Cricket Club, of which he is life member and perennate vice-president and for whose newsletter he has written about cricket the longest. He has also published several books on business-related topics, such as The Battle for BHP, Asbestos House (which dilates the James Hardie asbestos controversy) and Bad Company, an examination of the CEO phenomenon. He mostly publishes with Aurum Press.
Haigh was appointed editor of the Wisden Cricketers' Almanack Australia for 1999–2000 and 2000–01. Since March 2006, he has been a regular panellist on the ABC television sports panel show Offsiders. He was also a regular co-host on The Conversation Hour with Jon Faine on 774 ABC Melbourne until near the end of 2006.
Haigh has been known to be critical of what he regards as the deification of Sir Donald Bradman and "the cynical exploitation of his name by the mediocre and the greedy".[4] He did so in a September 1998 article in Wisden Cricket Monthly, entitled "Sir Donald Brandname". Haigh has been critical of Bradman's biographer Roland Perry, writing in The Australian that Perry's biography was guilty of "glossing over or ignoring anything to Bradman's discredit".[4]
Haigh won the John Curtin Prize for Journalism in the Victorian Premier's Literary Awards in 2006[5] for his essay "Information Idol: How Google is making us stupid",[6] which was published in The Monthly magazine. He asserted that the quality of discourse could suffer as a source of information's worth is judged by Google according to its previous degree of exposure to the status quo. He believes the pool of information available to those using Google as their sole avenue of inquiry is inevitably limited and possibly compromised due to covert commercial influences.
He blogged on the 2009 Ashes series for The Wisden Cricketer.[7]
On 24 October 2012 he addressed the tenth Bradman Oration in Melbourne.
Haigh began his career as a journalist, writing on business for The Age newspaper from 1984 to 1992 and for The Australian from 1993 to 1995. He has since contributed to over 70 newspapers and magazines,[2] both on business topics as well as on sport, mostly cricket. He wrote regularly for The Guardian during the 2006-07 Ashes series and has featured also in The Times and the Financial Times.
Haigh has authored 19 books and edited seven more. Of those on a cricketing theme, his historical works includes The Cricket War and Summer Game, his biographies The Big Ship (of Warwick Armstrong) and Mystery Spinner (of Jack Iverson), the latter pronounced The Cricket Society's "Book of the Year", short-listed for the William Hill Sports Book of the Year and dubbed "a classic" by The Sunday Times;[3] anthologies of his writings Ashes 2005 and Game for Anything, as well as Many a Slip, the humorous diary of a club cricket season, and The Vincibles, his story of the South Yarra Cricket Club, of which he is life member and perennate vice-president and for whose newsletter he has written about cricket the longest. He has also published several books on business-related topics, such as The Battle for BHP, Asbestos House (which dilates the James Hardie asbestos controversy) and Bad Company, an examination of the CEO phenomenon. He mostly publishes with Aurum Press.
Haigh was appointed editor of the Wisden Cricketers' Almanack Australia for 1999–2000 and 2000–01. Since March 2006, he has been a regular panellist on the ABC television sports panel show Offsiders. He was also a regular co-host on The Conversation Hour with Jon Faine on 774 ABC Melbourne until near the end of 2006.
Haigh has been known to be critical of what he regards as the deification of Sir Donald Bradman and "the cynical exploitation of his name by the mediocre and the greedy".[4] He did so in a September 1998 article in Wisden Cricket Monthly, entitled "Sir Donald Brandname". Haigh has been critical of Bradman's biographer Roland Perry, writing in The Australian that Perry's biography was guilty of "glossing over or ignoring anything to Bradman's discredit".[4]
Haigh won the John Curtin Prize for Journalism in the Victorian Premier's Literary Awards in 2006[5] for his essay "Information Idol: How Google is making us stupid",[6] which was published in The Monthly magazine. He asserted that the quality of discourse could suffer as a source of information's worth is judged by Google according to its previous degree of exposure to the status quo. He believes the pool of information available to those using Google as their sole avenue of inquiry is inevitably limited and possibly compromised due to covert commercial influences.
He blogged on the 2009 Ashes series for The Wisden Cricketer.[7]
On 24 October 2012 he addressed the tenth Bradman Oration in Melbourne.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 36 reviews
June 2, 2018
I bought this book after hearing author Gideon Haigh speak at a literary event. He was so articulate and entertaining, so I imagined this would be a great "true crime" read.
The story started well, with a vivid re-imagining of the events that led to the murder of young woman Beth Williams. The man with whom she had partied that evening, John Bryant Kerr, was arrested and charged with her killing on a Melbourne beach. A minor radio star, the arrest and subsequent trial of Kerr created attention-grabbing headlines and long queues for seats in the visitors' gallery of the courtroom.
Unfortunately I found the book got difficult to read in the middle stages, as the author went into elaborate detail about various aspects of the alleged offender and his defences at trial and in the media. Haigh commented extensively on the various personalities involved, particularly the police officers involved as well as the band of supporters who rallied to proclaim Kerr's innocence.
One strength of the book is its careful examination of the methods used by police and judiciary in the 1950s. If that murder had happened today, the entire investigation and prosecution would be entirely different. But in that earlier time, the power of the police and the close ties to the legal profession, in a era when defendants could be sentenced to death by hanging, had the capacity to deliver swift and arbitrary justice.
The other thing I really liked about this book is its authenticity in depicting Melbourne society in the 1950s. Although I had not been born when the murder of Beth Williams occurred, I was delivered some years later into that tight-knit community. As I read, I recognised the names of local celebrities who featured in the society pages, events that grabbed the headlines, and the names of prominent members of the legal profession.
Haigh undertook extensive research into the case and related topics. He laments the discrepancies between police and personal accounts of the events of that night. It becomes clear that police procedures and the behaviour of the judiciary could be appallingly deficient. He offers up speculations about what might have happened, filling in gaps in the records, and makes pertinent comments about the personalities involved. Most important is his portrayal of the accused, John Bryan Kerr.
My overall feeling was relief when I finished the book. Wanting to finish it, I persisted through a lot of detail that glazed my eyes. Although well-written, I found it rather heavy-going.
The story started well, with a vivid re-imagining of the events that led to the murder of young woman Beth Williams. The man with whom she had partied that evening, John Bryant Kerr, was arrested and charged with her killing on a Melbourne beach. A minor radio star, the arrest and subsequent trial of Kerr created attention-grabbing headlines and long queues for seats in the visitors' gallery of the courtroom.
Unfortunately I found the book got difficult to read in the middle stages, as the author went into elaborate detail about various aspects of the alleged offender and his defences at trial and in the media. Haigh commented extensively on the various personalities involved, particularly the police officers involved as well as the band of supporters who rallied to proclaim Kerr's innocence.
One strength of the book is its careful examination of the methods used by police and judiciary in the 1950s. If that murder had happened today, the entire investigation and prosecution would be entirely different. But in that earlier time, the power of the police and the close ties to the legal profession, in a era when defendants could be sentenced to death by hanging, had the capacity to deliver swift and arbitrary justice.
The other thing I really liked about this book is its authenticity in depicting Melbourne society in the 1950s. Although I had not been born when the murder of Beth Williams occurred, I was delivered some years later into that tight-knit community. As I read, I recognised the names of local celebrities who featured in the society pages, events that grabbed the headlines, and the names of prominent members of the legal profession.
Haigh undertook extensive research into the case and related topics. He laments the discrepancies between police and personal accounts of the events of that night. It becomes clear that police procedures and the behaviour of the judiciary could be appallingly deficient. He offers up speculations about what might have happened, filling in gaps in the records, and makes pertinent comments about the personalities involved. Most important is his portrayal of the accused, John Bryan Kerr.
My overall feeling was relief when I finished the book. Wanting to finish it, I persisted through a lot of detail that glazed my eyes. Although well-written, I found it rather heavy-going.
December 29, 2017
Certain Admissions
I’ve also just finished Gideon Haigh’s Certain Admissions, about the trial(s) of popular and well-known radio personality John Bryan Kerr and his eventual imprisonment for the murder of a young woman he knew fairly casually – even innocently – whose body was found the day after a date with him on the beach at Albert Park. Kerr always maintained his innocence, despite police claiming to have obtained a confession and I recall my parents, who worked in radio, knowing about him a bit and saying he was just the sort of man who could have done it, but...At least, I think they made that comment about Kerr; perhaps it was about someone else. Anyway, there was a strong belief that he’d been wrongly convicted.
Haigh seems to have researched this case very thoroughly, though he never finally reaches a conclusion. “Who done it” remains a mystery. Haigh casts serious doubt on the police investigation and the confession and suggests people at the time were somewhat intimidated by the police and loath to antagonise them by questioning their methods. There were three trials in all; the first two ended in hung juries, but the third did convict, “with a strong recommendation for mercy”. The death sentence was commuted to 20 years’ gaol; he served 14 before release.
His life after that was uneventful. He changed his name, worked at quite a few ordinary sort of jobs (couldn’t have gone back into radio), usually until he was let go when they found out who he was. Eventually he managed to score an employer who wouldn’t believe the rumours, so he kept the job. He married, quite happily, it seems; Haigh interviewed the wife and their two kids.
The interesting thing about the book, to me, was the actual research and what it uncovered. The murder victim, Beth Williams, was a harmless office clerk who liked a good time, but she wasn’t a “good-time girl”. She recognised Kerr when she saw him under the clocks at Flinders St station – she’d been stood up on a date she was to have had, with a sailor. She also said “Hi” to someone else she saw there, who remembered her talking to Kerr. Kerr suggested they go to dinner (to Mario’s, a well-known Melbourne restaurant of the day) then on to a party. They got a lift afterwards, which left them at Middle Park, I think. It was all, apparently, very innocent.
However, delving into Kerr’s character, Haigh discovered that the debonair, Scotch College educated, Toorak-dwelling young man with the budding career in radio had a dark streak: several times he’d got into fights, due to a hair-trigger temper, helped by alcohol. After these outbursts, which were scary, he’d be unable to remember much about the incident. A “dissociative state”. So the suspicion would always be that he may have tried it on with Williams, at the beach, or in a beach hut and that she rebuffed him, sparking his temper. Williams was found strangled, with her clothing disarranged, but, strangely, no evidence of sexual contact.
In later years, a woman heard a confession from an ageing man she was taking care of, that he’d killed three women: Beth Williams, Shirley Collins (a very famous murder victim) and Susan Oyston, who was the actress Sheila Florance’s daughter. Oyston jumped (or was pushed) off a building, which was believed to be suicide; Collins was discovered in a driveway in Mt Martha, in the same condition as Beth Williams. But this man’s “confession” has to be treated with great care, if not taken with a grain of salt; further investigation found he’d suffered from recurring bouts of schizophrenia!
It’s one of those and yet...and yet...books.
I’ve also just finished Gideon Haigh’s Certain Admissions, about the trial(s) of popular and well-known radio personality John Bryan Kerr and his eventual imprisonment for the murder of a young woman he knew fairly casually – even innocently – whose body was found the day after a date with him on the beach at Albert Park. Kerr always maintained his innocence, despite police claiming to have obtained a confession and I recall my parents, who worked in radio, knowing about him a bit and saying he was just the sort of man who could have done it, but...At least, I think they made that comment about Kerr; perhaps it was about someone else. Anyway, there was a strong belief that he’d been wrongly convicted.
Haigh seems to have researched this case very thoroughly, though he never finally reaches a conclusion. “Who done it” remains a mystery. Haigh casts serious doubt on the police investigation and the confession and suggests people at the time were somewhat intimidated by the police and loath to antagonise them by questioning their methods. There were three trials in all; the first two ended in hung juries, but the third did convict, “with a strong recommendation for mercy”. The death sentence was commuted to 20 years’ gaol; he served 14 before release.
His life after that was uneventful. He changed his name, worked at quite a few ordinary sort of jobs (couldn’t have gone back into radio), usually until he was let go when they found out who he was. Eventually he managed to score an employer who wouldn’t believe the rumours, so he kept the job. He married, quite happily, it seems; Haigh interviewed the wife and their two kids.
The interesting thing about the book, to me, was the actual research and what it uncovered. The murder victim, Beth Williams, was a harmless office clerk who liked a good time, but she wasn’t a “good-time girl”. She recognised Kerr when she saw him under the clocks at Flinders St station – she’d been stood up on a date she was to have had, with a sailor. She also said “Hi” to someone else she saw there, who remembered her talking to Kerr. Kerr suggested they go to dinner (to Mario’s, a well-known Melbourne restaurant of the day) then on to a party. They got a lift afterwards, which left them at Middle Park, I think. It was all, apparently, very innocent.
However, delving into Kerr’s character, Haigh discovered that the debonair, Scotch College educated, Toorak-dwelling young man with the budding career in radio had a dark streak: several times he’d got into fights, due to a hair-trigger temper, helped by alcohol. After these outbursts, which were scary, he’d be unable to remember much about the incident. A “dissociative state”. So the suspicion would always be that he may have tried it on with Williams, at the beach, or in a beach hut and that she rebuffed him, sparking his temper. Williams was found strangled, with her clothing disarranged, but, strangely, no evidence of sexual contact.
In later years, a woman heard a confession from an ageing man she was taking care of, that he’d killed three women: Beth Williams, Shirley Collins (a very famous murder victim) and Susan Oyston, who was the actress Sheila Florance’s daughter. Oyston jumped (or was pushed) off a building, which was believed to be suicide; Collins was discovered in a driveway in Mt Martha, in the same condition as Beth Williams. But this man’s “confession” has to be treated with great care, if not taken with a grain of salt; further investigation found he’d suffered from recurring bouts of schizophrenia!
It’s one of those and yet...and yet...books.
December 8, 2015
Utterly verbose romanticism of archives.
September 27, 2017
I found this book mind numbing. I thought it was going to be a novelised version of a true crime. Great research, but written like it was a police report. I got 1/4 way through and could not finish. Lots of reviews say the end is somewhat better than the rest of the book, so i will go back and read the last chapter.
July 11, 2019
In amongst the verbose language is an interesting story, but you have to wade through every single detail the researcher discovered to find it. Very disappointed in the delivery of this tale, as my hopes were high
August 23, 2016
In a leadup event to the 2016 Bendigo Writers Festival, Gideon Haigh came to Dunolly for a discussion with Rosemary Sorensen about CERTAIN ADMISSIONS. A true crime book that I'd been aware of for quite a while, this was the prefect opportunity to sit in the wonderful surrounds of the restored Court House, with a glass of wine and listen to a fascinating session about a case that I'd never heard of before this book.
The research, including the employment of genealogists to investigate family trees and backgrounds, and the thought that has gone into this book is clear on every page. As Haigh discussed the genesis of the book, from the conversation that started it, through to the incredible levels of research and detail he looked into, it became clear that not only is this a most fascinating case, it's one that, at the end of the book, readers will most likely still be divided as to John Bryan Kerr's guilt or innocence.
It's also a timely reminder of how badly victim's have, it seems, always been treated, particularly when they are female and, most especially, when they are young and pretty. Newspaper reports of the time are breathtaking in their disrespect, and the "celebrity" built up around the young, handsome and quite debonair chief suspect just flat out odd.
There's also a circus aspect to the trials and a weird sort of celebrity bad-boy image built around Kerr - to be fair not all of his own making at that time - that might be put down to the lack of entertainment options in those day, but really seems like a sad indictment of the worst of voyeuristic human nature. There are also chilling reminders of the difference in policing styles - the idea that the police made up their minds of who was guilty and then a case was "built" to suit that decision - as opposed to current day investigation principles.
Haigh digs through a wealth of materials about John Bryan Kerr - from the trial records to current day newspaper reports, and the recollections of people who knew him. He also does this with the full knowledge and support of the woman he married after having served his time, and their daughter. Haigh's respect and care of their feelings and sensibilities is palpable within the narrative - this is an author whose touch is respectful but thorough, careful and considerate of all sides of what is, after all, the story of the death of a young woman, and a man who lived his life protesting his innocence until the end.
All of which makes CERTAIN ADMISSIONS an excellent true crime novel. It's beautifully constructed and written, engaging, involving, and never resorting to sensationalism. Respect for the subject, and the participants is palpable, as is the struggle that the author had in constructing the story in a fair and accurate manner. It's a considered and careful progression through the facts, always ensuring that the reader is aware when the author is extrapolating or drawing conclusions (done sparingly). It highlights the difficult position the author of this sort of work, without overtly inserting themselves into the narrative. It personalises everyone as much as possible - the victim, the convicted, the police investigator and the family, in particular, of John Bryan Kerr. It's also one of those books that comes to an ending which allows the reader to draw their own conclusions about what happened the night that Beth Williams died.
https://www.austcrimefiction.org/revi...
The research, including the employment of genealogists to investigate family trees and backgrounds, and the thought that has gone into this book is clear on every page. As Haigh discussed the genesis of the book, from the conversation that started it, through to the incredible levels of research and detail he looked into, it became clear that not only is this a most fascinating case, it's one that, at the end of the book, readers will most likely still be divided as to John Bryan Kerr's guilt or innocence.
It's also a timely reminder of how badly victim's have, it seems, always been treated, particularly when they are female and, most especially, when they are young and pretty. Newspaper reports of the time are breathtaking in their disrespect, and the "celebrity" built up around the young, handsome and quite debonair chief suspect just flat out odd.
There's also a circus aspect to the trials and a weird sort of celebrity bad-boy image built around Kerr - to be fair not all of his own making at that time - that might be put down to the lack of entertainment options in those day, but really seems like a sad indictment of the worst of voyeuristic human nature. There are also chilling reminders of the difference in policing styles - the idea that the police made up their minds of who was guilty and then a case was "built" to suit that decision - as opposed to current day investigation principles.
Haigh digs through a wealth of materials about John Bryan Kerr - from the trial records to current day newspaper reports, and the recollections of people who knew him. He also does this with the full knowledge and support of the woman he married after having served his time, and their daughter. Haigh's respect and care of their feelings and sensibilities is palpable within the narrative - this is an author whose touch is respectful but thorough, careful and considerate of all sides of what is, after all, the story of the death of a young woman, and a man who lived his life protesting his innocence until the end.
All of which makes CERTAIN ADMISSIONS an excellent true crime novel. It's beautifully constructed and written, engaging, involving, and never resorting to sensationalism. Respect for the subject, and the participants is palpable, as is the struggle that the author had in constructing the story in a fair and accurate manner. It's a considered and careful progression through the facts, always ensuring that the reader is aware when the author is extrapolating or drawing conclusions (done sparingly). It highlights the difficult position the author of this sort of work, without overtly inserting themselves into the narrative. It personalises everyone as much as possible - the victim, the convicted, the police investigator and the family, in particular, of John Bryan Kerr. It's also one of those books that comes to an ending which allows the reader to draw their own conclusions about what happened the night that Beth Williams died.
https://www.austcrimefiction.org/revi...
August 15, 2019
I found the first part of this book captivating and did enjoy the historical detail of the era. I felt transported back to the time and was caught up the atmosphere, the way people lived and dressed and spoke, and so I was looking forward to a really good read. Unfortunately it didn’t take too long before it just seemed way toooo bogged down in details that I felt may have been put in to pad or fluff it out. Just way to many long winded intricate details about people that only had the barest fleeting relevance to the actual case. I persevered hoping it would get better but just ended up saying enough is enough and I just don’t care anymore.. would love to read about this case again if anyone can do it by getting to the point a bit sooner.
April 18, 2018
Beth Williams, a young 20 year old, is murdered a few days after Christmas 1949. The police make a quick arrest of John Bryan Kerr a handsome, educated well spoken chap but with a fiery temper when drunk. He goes to trial three times before being found guilty but always claimed his innocence. After 12 years he is released. His name resurfaces when in 2004 an elderly man makes a confession to his carer.
I found the book to be well researched. The murder was 65 years ago so he relies on the archives and ageing memories of a few people still alive. It's interesting to see the legal process of the time but I found the book to be a bit dull and reading more like some type of report.
I found the book to be well researched. The murder was 65 years ago so he relies on the archives and ageing memories of a few people still alive. It's interesting to see the legal process of the time but I found the book to be a bit dull and reading more like some type of report.
July 15, 2015
I loved this book. I was born in Melbourne, four years after the murder of Beth Williams. Even though I was not aware of the notoriety of the accused killer, John Bryan Kerr, I was very familiar with places and names in the legal fraternity connected with the trials of John Bryan Kerr. The author, Gideon Haigh, has left no rock unturned to try to find out whether justice had been served. He kept burrowing for information right up until the present day. Have already borrowed another book by this author.
September 24, 2017
This book was selected to be read by my book club. Haigh has done a brilliant job researching Kerr's life. However I found it a hard slog to read. I had little interest in the content. I ended up reading one chapter a day in order to get through it. The conclusion was a little more interesting but overall I did not enjoy reading it.
July 19, 2019
I found this to be a well-researched and interesting account of the murder of Beth Stevens by the seemingly well to do and immaculately turned out John Bryan Kerr. In turning back the clock to a different era in Australia’s history, I not only gained a good sense of all the people involved in the lengthy, convoluted case but also of the times themselves and how much things have changed in the past 60 years.
A fascinating story in which the author left no stone unturned. I believe it is a fair and reasonably unbiased look at the life of John Bryan Kerr and the crime he was accused of, thus allowing the reader to make up their own mind and draw their own conclusions.
A fascinating story in which the author left no stone unturned. I believe it is a fair and reasonably unbiased look at the life of John Bryan Kerr and the crime he was accused of, thus allowing the reader to make up their own mind and draw their own conclusions.
September 15, 2015
Thorough. Like all good true crime we get back story, characters and social history/context. Gideon Haigh seems to have left no stone unturned to find out what happened to Beth Williams on the 27th of December 1949. Without the words of the two people there, Beth and her killer, we don't really know. John Bryan Kerr, Scotch College educated, Toorak residing, radio star on the rise was convicted on a third trial, two juries having failed to reach a verdict. The evidence was sparse, this being pre-forensics, pre-crime scene analysis, preservation and the raft of modern investigative techniques. The Crown case rested on an oddly worded confessional statement (again pre-tape/video recorded police interviews)and an inherent improbability of Beth Williams encountering another person after John Bryan Kerr & Beth were dropped by friends at Port Albert Beach after a party in Malvern. Her body was found the next morning. The trials attracted enormous interest in Melbourne and the case was revisited with continued appeals, pleas for clemency, abolition of the death penalty and prison reform. The ghosts fair crackled as I walked past the Supreme Court this morning, merging with the contradictions and mysteries in the narrative: what really happened?
August 30, 2015
This is good true crime writing. This story is part of Australian lexicon, so it needed someone to take it really seriously and research it properly, which Gideon Haigh has done. Written without sensationalism, but still extremely engaging, I've powered through this book really quickly. Well worth a read.
March 15, 2016
A skilled journalistic retelling of a murder, a trial and the aftermath. Well researched and compellingly told. See my review at
https://residentjudge.wordpress.com/2...
https://residentjudge.wordpress.com/2...
May 29, 2020
Why would anyone care about Elizabeth Williams or John Wallace Kerr? Why would Gideon Haigh spend months researching every document he could find about the couple. And why would anyone read his book “Certain Admission” published in 2015? Especial since the murder the book describes happened way back in 1949.
Elizabeth Williams was found dead, drowned on a popular Victorian beach. It was murder and the last person to see her alive was John Wallace Kerr. Did he murder her? The police thought so. They even had a verbal confession which Kerr denied making and would not sign.
And so we cycle through all the ups and downs of Kerr’s trial and its outcome and subsequent events. We meet the police who arrest him, the barrister who defends him, the prosecutor who prosecuted him, the doctor who examines him, his parent’s who love him, the public who are transfixed by him and much much more.
It is a long and circuitous paper trail, both baffling and engaging. There are many views of the man, the victim and the event. Just as many views and opinions of the outcome of the trial as well. As is said of a good pHD, if it can be summarised in three sentences, the author has a real understanding of the material. “Certain Admissions” owns no such simple summary which makes it an interesting if frustrating book.
Elizabeth Williams was found dead, drowned on a popular Victorian beach. It was murder and the last person to see her alive was John Wallace Kerr. Did he murder her? The police thought so. They even had a verbal confession which Kerr denied making and would not sign.
And so we cycle through all the ups and downs of Kerr’s trial and its outcome and subsequent events. We meet the police who arrest him, the barrister who defends him, the prosecutor who prosecuted him, the doctor who examines him, his parent’s who love him, the public who are transfixed by him and much much more.
It is a long and circuitous paper trail, both baffling and engaging. There are many views of the man, the victim and the event. Just as many views and opinions of the outcome of the trial as well. As is said of a good pHD, if it can be summarised in three sentences, the author has a real understanding of the material. “Certain Admissions” owns no such simple summary which makes it an interesting if frustrating book.
December 30, 2024
This is a history of a crime in Melbourne after WWII. The author has done a marvelous job of laying out a good view of the accused perpetrator and the crime (and possibly other crimes by the same person. The perp is an odd fellow - who made some boasts in an initial interview with the police, endured a number of trails and then eventually was judged guilty under a sentence of death and then had a commutation to a long sentence. Before all this the main character was a radio personality which was a big deal then.
Haigh has a skill at presenting all sides of the case. After reading this I think Mr. Kerr probably committed the crime BUT there is sufficient exculpatory evidence that there is doubt. You also hear about the odd ways of being acquitted in the Australian judicial system and a host of other issues.
Haigh has a skill at presenting all sides of the case. After reading this I think Mr. Kerr probably committed the crime BUT there is sufficient exculpatory evidence that there is doubt. You also hear about the odd ways of being acquitted in the Australian judicial system and a host of other issues.
January 6, 2018
It is not often I put a book aside, or return it to a library unread... This was one case, it started with promise, an intricate detail of the lives of those this book was about, but I found it got bogged down on the detail, the intricate details of those who played a role and general wordiness. Don't get me wrong, this book was well written and the true crime topic interesting, just too detailed for me, can I say I ashamedly like the fast moving scandal and newspaper story writing rather than this indepth look at the crime (I sound very superficial, an perhaps I am). Well worth a look if you like a good historical true crime.
July 27, 2019
I enjoyed this book but am not sure I'll remember much about it in a few months. A true-crime story from 1950s Melbourne, it is launched by the death of a young woman, but it really is about the fate of her accused killer. There is some effort to come to some sort of conclusion about what really happened, but in the end, the conclusion is who really knows? The best thing about it was a glimpse into the Melbourne of the time - a time when my own parents were growing up and coming of age.
March 27, 2017
Good read. Balanced view of the evidence at the time and the claimed admissions by "Bill" sixty years later. I think Kerr did it.....
January 10, 2024
2.5 raised to 3
December 30, 2024
Typical Gideon Haigh, a man in full command of the language.
September 8, 2016
I suppose it is a true-crime story, although in other true-crime stories that I have read, the crimes, victims and culprits are all usually known. This story is one where there is still a certain level of doubt that has lingered for more than 50 years after the crime and the trials.
The bones of the story is the crime where a young woman, Beth Williams was killed and dumped on St Kilda Beach, Melbourne in December 1949. Immediately suspicion fell on her date for the previous evening, John Bryan Kerr; he was subsequently arrested, charged and found guilty of her murder in the third trail, after 2 prior trails returned with hung-juries. Kerr never waivered in his claims of innocence during his trails and subsequent time in gaol.
The author doesn't attempt to 're-try' the case, and refreshingly for true crime, stays resolutely impartial in relation to whether Kerr is innocent or not. This story is, as much as it is the recording of a controversial crime, about the nature of research and archival material as records of history and the 'truth'; it looks at how the same information can be seen by different groups of people and for them to come out with diametrically opposed views (the case split Melbourne as to Kerr's innocence or guilt; all his lifeKerr himself split people with his personality into groups who loved him or hated him); it is a view of police, court and prison procedure; and indeed, general life in 1950s/1960s Melbourne, Australia.
The bones of the story is the crime where a young woman, Beth Williams was killed and dumped on St Kilda Beach, Melbourne in December 1949. Immediately suspicion fell on her date for the previous evening, John Bryan Kerr; he was subsequently arrested, charged and found guilty of her murder in the third trail, after 2 prior trails returned with hung-juries. Kerr never waivered in his claims of innocence during his trails and subsequent time in gaol.
The author doesn't attempt to 're-try' the case, and refreshingly for true crime, stays resolutely impartial in relation to whether Kerr is innocent or not. This story is, as much as it is the recording of a controversial crime, about the nature of research and archival material as records of history and the 'truth'; it looks at how the same information can be seen by different groups of people and for them to come out with diametrically opposed views (the case split Melbourne as to Kerr's innocence or guilt; all his lifeKerr himself split people with his personality into groups who loved him or hated him); it is a view of police, court and prison procedure; and indeed, general life in 1950s/1960s Melbourne, Australia.
December 28, 2016
Did not finish … Certain Admissions: A Beach, a Body and a Lifetime of Secrets / Gideon Haigh … 27 Dec. 2016
ISBN: 9780670078318
I was well into ch.2 when the nagging feeling shaped into a question: Why was I reading this book? Oh yes, it's a Whodunits book group choice for 2017. And at that point I stopped reading.
The book is about a true crime in Melbourne in 1949 (the year I was born!). I have no memory of the commission of the crime, of course, but neither do I remember it ever being mentioned years later when I would remember. There might be principles of justice involved but I simply wasn't interested enough to keep reading to find out.
This is no criticism of the author. I read Haigh's Asbestos House and was rivetted. The difference is, that was something I was interested in.
My 1 STAR rating indicates my lack of interest, not that it is a poor book - I didn't read enough to judge that.
Borrowed from my local library.
October 9, 2015
"Certain Admissions" is a documentary style investigation into the murder of Beth Williams in 1949 and the life of her convicted murderer John Bryan Kerr. It's also an in-depth exploration of the crimes, the politics and the investigations that intersected the murder, the trials, the prison and post-prison life of John Kerr, who always proclaimed his innocence.
Whilst it's a totally engaging "whodunnit", it's a case of truth being stranger and more mysterious than fiction.
What stood out for me were the statements that never reached the light of day, let alone justice.
The work is well written, covering much comprehensive detail in very readable style.
Haigh draws attention often to the existing gender-based prejudices of the time and how they may have impacted thinking, as well as the politics around the death penalty. Nothing is straightforward, everything has a counter story.
Whilst it's a totally engaging "whodunnit", it's a case of truth being stranger and more mysterious than fiction.
What stood out for me were the statements that never reached the light of day, let alone justice.
The work is well written, covering much comprehensive detail in very readable style.
Haigh draws attention often to the existing gender-based prejudices of the time and how they may have impacted thinking, as well as the politics around the death penalty. Nothing is straightforward, everything has a counter story.
November 10, 2016
An interesting, albeit frustrating read about John Bryan Kerr - an enigmatic man found guilty of murder in the early 1950's. He claimed to be innocent persistently & consistently for his entire life. He was released from prison after 20+ years of incarceration.
Fascinating due to the charismatic & mysterious nature of Kerr & frustrating due to the many unanswered questions surrounding the crime.
The police resources of the time left huge gaps in Gideon's attempt to research this book & questions remain unanswered to the end.
A good read. Haigh always entertains.
Fascinating due to the charismatic & mysterious nature of Kerr & frustrating due to the many unanswered questions surrounding the crime.
The police resources of the time left huge gaps in Gideon's attempt to research this book & questions remain unanswered to the end.
A good read. Haigh always entertains.
April 25, 2017
An interesting tale about a high profile murder case of the late 1940s. It provides a fascinating look at the social fabric and mores of Melbourne, a vastly different place from today. I had not heard of this case, being too young, but the questions raised, especially in relation to police procedures of the time, are pertinent. Was the conviction sound? Probably. Would the outcome have been different using today's police and forensic methods? Who knows.
August 20, 2015
Interesting
An interesting read but, for me, it fell short in exploring the detailed forensics of Williams' murder - which may have shed more light on Kerr's guilt or innocence. Maybe, in the late 40's forensic evidence was in short supply. I believe there is one clue - that is alluded to but not explored - which might hold the possible answer. An open finding for me.
An interesting read but, for me, it fell short in exploring the detailed forensics of Williams' murder - which may have shed more light on Kerr's guilt or innocence. Maybe, in the late 40's forensic evidence was in short supply. I believe there is one clue - that is alluded to but not explored - which might hold the possible answer. An open finding for me.
March 10, 2016
Haigh brings both his trademark detailed research and his grasp of human nature to bear on one of Melbourne's most notorious murders. His thorough analysis asks more questions than it answers and leaves us where we started - did John Kerr kill Beth Williams - but with so much more information into the conclusion we are invited to make on our own.
December 13, 2016
A reviewer said "an endlessly verbose romanticization of archives" or something like that. Correct. Too much information bogged down a moderately interesting story. I don't know, maybe everything was included since the end was so inconclusive that the author wanted us to be able to draw our own conclusions based on the same evidence he had.
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