Brett McBean - Tales of Sin and Madness

“I smell smoke,” Luke said, sniffing the air.

It was the smell of burnt timber, Eucalyptus and an end to their pain.

Doreen wrapped her arms around her son.

“Maybe it’s Santa’s sleigh,” she said.

“Like an old train?”

“Yeah. Maybe the elves stoke the fire. That’s how come Santa can fly all around the world in one night.”

“Wow,” Luke said, his elbows resting on the arms of the couch, chin digging into his palms. His gaze remained fixed on the red light. “I wonder what Santa will be like when he gets here.”

“Tired, probably,” Doreen said, closing her eyes off from the burning light. “He’ll probably be tired and want something to eat and drink.”

With the smell of smoke, hot and acrid, filling their world, Doreen continued to hug her son and together they waited for the light to arrive.

One night when I was around eight or nine, my family and I went over to a neighbour’s house on Christmas Eve. We were all sitting in the lounge room, the adults chatting and the kids sitting on the floor around the Christmas tree. Then, in the window, I saw a red light. The light seemed to be hovering in mid-air, and when I told the other kids, we all grew excited, sure it was Santa riding in the sky in his sleigh. We told the adults, and, rather than stating the truth and telling us it was simply the reflection of the tree lights, they humoured us and told us that maybe it was Santa riding with his reindeer. Well, it was about the most exciting moment of my young life — an actual Santa Claus sighting! I remember leaving our neighbour’s house that night thrilled beyond words, and it made an already special time of year even more magical.

It was this event that I immediately thought of when I was asked to write a story for Tasmaniac’s inaugural Festive Fear anthology. As I began to think more about the story, knowing I had to write more than a kid seeing what he thinks is Santa Claus (and make it dark, as this was a horror anthology), the hot Australian summer and the devastation it can cause to the bush sprang to mind, and ‘Christmas Lights’ was born.

An eerie side-note: a short time after writing the first draft of ‘Christmas Lights’, Victoria suffered its worst-ever bushfire tragedy, resulting in over 170 deaths and the destruction of numerous country towns and over 2000 homes. I considered not submitting the story to the anthology; I didn’t want to be seen as exploiting the tragedy (even though I wrote the story before the bushfires occurred). I spoke with Steve Clark, head honcho at Tasmaniac Publications, about it and we both ultimately agreed that the story wasn’t in bad taste, and that, if anything, the story would be even more resonant and pertinent. And it just goes to show — real life can be infinitely more terrifying than any fiction tale.

When Frederick Bailey Deeming was hanged a little under four months ago, the world sighed with relief in the knowledge that the 38-year-old English-born murderer could kill no more. But with the recent murders of two prostitutes in Melbourne’s north-east, and the various ghostly sightings in a house in Windsor, one has to wonder — is Mad Fred really gone, or is his spirit back for more blood?

Some claim the two Melbourne murders are that of a Jack the Ripper copycat. After all, the first body was found on the morning of August 31st, and the second on the 8th of this month — the exact dates of two of the Ripper murders. But if they are the work of a cruel and bloodthirsty copycat, why start with Jack’s third victim? Why in the city of Melbourne? And why four years after those in London’s East End?

What of the sinister sightings at the small brick house on Andrew Street? Neighbours claim they have heard strange noises and seen things that cannot be explained and yet the house has remained unoccupied since Deeming left the property Christmas Day of last year, the day after he killed his wife, Emily, and buried her body under the hearthstone in one of the bedrooms.

In this special three part report for The Argus , we’ll take a look at the heinous crime for which Mad Fred was hanged. By speaking with those close to the events you’ll gain unprecedented access to both the man himself, and details concerning the ghastly crime; details never before revealed, including startling revelations from a prison inmate of Deeming claiming to be Jack the Ripper. We’ll also take a look at the reported ghostly sightings, speak to those who say Mad Fred’s ghost still haunts the Andrew Street house, and we’ll visit the locations of the two prostitute murders. Then you can decide for yourself whether a madman is on the prowl, or if a ghost is indeed haunting Melbourne; the ghost of the man responsible for what has come to be known as the crime of the century.

Frederick Deeming was a man of many faces. The Cheshire-born fraudster and multiple murderer could be both charming and ruthless. One of the passengers onboard the Kaiser Wilhelm II , the ship that brought Deeming and his second wife to Melbourne on the 15th of December, saw this contradiction first-hand. “I detested the man I knew as Albert Williams,” 24-year-old Brisbane seamstress Kate Jensen said. “To others aboard the ship, he could be rude, bombastic. He would often boast about his travels abroad, claiming he had been to more places than most men would ever see. He said he had fought the Zulus in Africa — would even brandish a knife and tell people he had killed many Zulus with it. Then, without a second thought, he would turn into a paranoid creature and accuse passengers of stealing from him, including his wife’s valuable jewellery. We all thought he was mad. But, he was always loving and caring towards Emily. She would often talk to me of his affections towards her, and their excitement at arriving in Melbourne and starting a new life together. It seemed there were two people living inside the one body.”

But Deeming’s strange behaviour didn’t stop at his fanciful tales of being abroad or accusations of theft.

“My cabin on the ship was opposite the Williams’ so I saw and heard many things,” Kate continued. “I heard Albert carrying on conversations with his canary. Quite extraordinary conversations that had to be heard to be believed.”

Fred Deeming brought with him to Melbourne a canary, which he seemed to treat better than his own wife. According to the carrier hired to take the recently married couple’s possessions to their new home in Windsor, Fred had ridden in the coach with his canary, while Emily was made to travel on her own to the house by tram. And after the murder, Fred could be seen riding around in a sulky, parading the canary in its elegant and ornate cage.

“He would talk to the bird as if it were human,” Kate remembered. “At times he would recount his exploits around the world, talking for hours on end about his heroic adventures on the high seas and fighting the Zulus. Sometimes I would hear him laugh with the bird, like they were telling the gayest jokes. Other times I would hear him speak in angry tones, usually about devilish things like disease, death and murder. Whenever he would talk to the canary about his mother, he would end up crying. It was all rather sad, and very strange. Like I have said, we all thought he was mad, but never did I think he was capable of such horrific things — nor did I ever suspect he had killed his previous wife and three children. It turns my blood cold thinking I slept so close to him all that time we were aboard the ship.”