Patrick Carlyon: Greg Lynn projected no nerves as jury delivered missing campers verdict

As Greg Lynn was about to be told the direction of the rest of his life he remained in control, presenting more like a librarian than a murder defendant.

• Greg Lynn murdered one of two missing campers

Greg Lynn is about to be told the direction of the rest of his life.

He will discover whether a jury has accepted his extraordinary story about two accidental deaths, followed by his diabolic efforts to distance himself from those events.

Yet he appears to be in control. Take all the usual adjectives to describe a murder defendant, such as belligerence or defiance or unvarnished fear. None of them apply.

His arrival in court 3 of the Supreme Court on Tuesday is announced by the clanking.

His shackles are undone before he enters. He walks into the court with his hands pressed together, as if they are still bound.

The jury, after almost seven days of deliberating, has reached verdicts in the deaths of Russell Hill and Carol Clay.

Lynn projects no nerves. He hasn’t throughout a trial lasting almost seven weeks. Not when he was cross-examined. Not when he admitted that his cover up of a crime (he maintained he did not commit) was abominable.

His lips are slightly pursed, in what could be mistaken for the slightest of smiles. He assumes a hunched posture when he sits, a familiar bearing of harmlessness often furnished by his reading glasses.

His quiet presence in court has conflicted with the morbid claims against him. He was accused of killing two strangers in cold blood, apparently for trifling reasons.

Yet he presents like a librarian.

Lynn showed no nerves as the verdict was delivered. Picture: David Geraghty

Lynn does not meet the eye of journalists who are jammed tight a few metres away. But he does watch the jurors enter the courtroom at 12.43pm. Does the moment offer a hint of what is to come, given most of the jurors do not return his gaze?

The jury has wrestled with a most unusual case. It has been hamstrung by a lack of physical evidence, mainly because Lynn methodically disposed of it.

Close observers have analysed the jury’s questions to the judge from the day before. Would this be a hung jury, as the last of the jury questions suggested? The prevailing view since, in the absence of jury insights, has favoured a mistrial.

A deeper clue, ultimately, lay in another jury question, concerning the idea that the jury was free to convict for one murder and not necessarily for two.

The idea is novel, at least insofar as it shakes the absolutes of the did-he-or-didn’t-he lines of thinking. That there might be “reasonable doubt” to return a not-guilty verdict for one death, but not accordingly the other death.

Minutes feel like hours as the jurors file into the courtroom. The forewoman will say six words in total. To the question of the murder of Russell Hill she replies “not guilty”.

Carol Clay was murdered during a camping trip to the Wonnangatta Valley with her secret lover Russell Hill.

Lynn offers no reaction to this news. His outward calm is mirrored by the wider court, which remains silent. There is no applause. No sighs nor collective intakes of breath.

For a moment, it’s tempting to wonder if Lynn is going home to Caroline Springs, to be with the wife who has blown him kisses during the trial from the gallery above.

Perhaps the jury has assessed the 1057 pieces of information Lynn offered to police, and accepted – as Lynn’s defence counsel Dermot Dann KC argued – that not one of them had been shown to be a lie.

If Lynn is growing hopeful, he doesn’t show it. Within a few seconds, the forewoman replies to the question of Carol Clay’s murder – “guilty”.

Again, Lynn shows little, except for the slightest raising of his eyebrows.

The jury could not prove that Lynn murdered Russell Hill. But in finding him guilty of Clay’s murder, they have rejected Lynn’s very precise account of a campsite struggle and an accidental shotgun discharge. It would appear that the jury accepted that Clay was murdered because she had witnessed Hill’s death.

After murdering Mrs Clay, Lynn burnt the campers bodies and campsite in a bid to cover up his crime.

Judge Michael Croucher, a jovial voice who softened the grimmest of cases, thanks the jury by recognising the demands it has confronted.

A court date is set down for July. The question of a sentence lies for the months ahead.

Outside, in the brittle sunlight, Lynn’s son is circled and swarmed by photographers.

Prosecutor Daniel Porceddu soon follows. His case, described by Dann as a “hopeless mess”, has faced challenges. But he offers a wide smile for the cameras, as a nearby journalist voices the view that “at least Lynn has been put away”.

Inside, Lynn himself has been quietly chatting with one of his defence team, Michael McGrath.

Lynn faces the prospect of many years in prison. At 57, he may never enjoy another day of freedom.

Yet his hands remain clasped, as if to say that he is still in control of his emotions, if not his fate.