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A Shopping List for Murder
by Robyn Beveridge
275 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-0640; ISBN 1-4120-2812-4; US$23.50, C$28.00, EUR19.50, £13.50
Robyn's courageous autobiography graphically describes surviving the terror of being attacked at home. It reveals a rare truth about being a victim in the New Zealand justice system that needs to be told.
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About the Book About the Author Foreword and Excerpts Catalogue Information
About the Book
A Shopping List for Murder, is an autobiography of a unique piece of New Zealand's criminal history.
Robyn had a seemingly normal marriage and was achieving her dreams of breeding distinctive stud Belted Galloway cattle, and running a Farmstay in an idyllic valley setting in the Canterbury Foothills. Her world was nearly perfect.
One cold and winters night, she walked nearly 10 km to a Public phone box and made the most important and influential phone call of her life. That phone call caused a series of events that disintegrated to a point where murder was the near outcome.
This book describes in graphic detail, what it is like to be a victim of a horrendous premeditated crime, in a remote farm house. The story goes further then merely recounting the attack. We learn what it is like being the victim in the New Zealand criminal justice system, and the frustrations that individuals endure being a part of that system.
We also watch as Robyn has to fight every inch of the way to rebuild her life after surviving the terror of that night that will no doubt haunt her forever.
How she has coped has been her tremendous grit and determination, ability to think outside the square and her quirky sense of humour as is evidenced by the many amusing excerpts scattered throughout this book.
Walk beside Robyn as she guides you through her story.
About the Author
Robyn Beveridge was born in 1956 on a North Canterbury sheep farm some 70 kms from Christchurch city. She was educated in Christchurch before marrying her husband in 1977. She became actively involved with community activities as well as working in various fields from Banking, to Tourism and finally for St. John Ambulance, as an adult educator and volunteer ambulance officer.
In 1996, her and her then husband relocated an old historical home to the Canterbury foothills where they bred the rare and distinctive Belted Galloway cattle and began a farmstay business.
Foreword and Excerpt
FOREWORD
On Monday 27 August 2001 the High Court trial of Regina v Ijan John Beveridge began. As I opened the Crown case to the jury I told them that they may well think that what they were about to hear had all the ingredients of a Stephen King novel but that unfortunately what was to unfold was for Robyn Beveridge reality - a horrific and terrifying ordeal that very nearly resulted in the loss of her life. Robyn's life was spared due to her courage, training and remarkable ability to deal with the situation. On that day for the first time a stunned jury panel and public gallery heard about events on 23 June 2000 which would forever alter Robyn's life.
In this book Robyn describes in graphic detail what occurred on that day when her husband broke into her house armed with a knife, rope and night vision goggles. This story is important because Robyn goes further than merely recounting the evidence of the trial. We learn what a victim of a crime experiences when that crime becomes part of the Justice System and the victim is then one of the many cogs in that system. Her story reveals a truth that is seldom heard and provides an insight that is seldom seen. Once again Robyn has demonstrated tremendous courage.
James Rapley Crown Prosecutor Christchurch 28 February 2004.
Chapter One - June 23 2000
"I think we have nearly made it." I said to Elizabeth as I gently held the heavy leather reins between my fingers. "Hubby and I have left our full time careers, we have nearly finished our home, tourists are starting to come to the farm stay and cattle prices are gradually coming up. After all these years of hard work, we are nearly there."
"You certainly have come a long way since I first met you. I still vividly remember that St John Instructors conference where we first met. You were facilitating it and I was new to teaching first aid in St John. You offered to take me to your place and gave me a meal as I didn't know anyone in Christchurch." Elizabeth said with a smile.
"I really enjoyed the horse shoeing course; Reefton's a neat wee town to drive the wagon around isn't it? And Hank and Zena love the change, thanks for suggesting it." I replied.
As we passed the intersection, I released the pressure on the reins and called "Tirr-ot". In perfect unison, the horses lurched forward and started trotting down the road. I loved the rhythmic clip clop of their hooves on the road and feeling the power of the animals as they pulled the heavy wooden wagon with ease.
"These horses are the final piece of the jigsaw, I have always wanted a pair that pulled a wagon, ever since I was a kid and these ones are perfect. I can't wait to get back home now that I can shoe them myself and advertise Wagon Rides as another attraction to the farm."
"Wooah," I said softly to the two magnificent animals as they pulled up at the gate of their temporary home. "Hubby said he will come over tomorrow to help me pack up and drive back to Canterbury. He is looking forward to getting some more garden made in the next few weeks. It's so neat for the first time in my life, to have the time to do these things."
Three months later: Friday, June 23 2000.
Hubby was staying in 'town' with our son for a while, as I walked to the office and answered the ringing phone.
"Kerrilea Farm stay," I answered in my usual formal, friendly manner.
"It's the Christchurch Info Centre here. Do you have a vacancy for tonight for 3 couples for Bed and Breakfast at your Farm stay?"
"Yes, that will be fine. Do they want dinner? And what time should I expect them?" I asked as I noted information in our 'bookings' diary.
"No, they don't want dinner and they will confirm later in the day if they are coming, as they are doing some sightseeing in Christchurch this afternoon. They plan to arrive at the farm about 7.30p.m." said the Asian voice.
"OK, I will keep the rooms and look forward to seeing them at 7.30 p.m."
I hung up the phone and worked on my well-rehearsed plan of action for our farm stay.
The newly relocated house was originally built in 1910. The international guests love the informal atmosphere, joining us in our home and being treated as one of the family instead of 'guests'. The combination of homeliness and a working farm is just starting to prove a winning combination.
Right; what should I do first? The house had to be tidied, no easy feat when you have 23 rooms including 7 bedrooms! The cattle had to be fed and I had to ensure that there were enough groceries for the influx of guests.
I decided to prepare the rooms first. Basically the rooms were 'battle ready' but I needed to re-check them to ensure they have all the all the things necessary to make the guests stay more comfortable. 'Soap, towels, clean rubbish bin, fresh flowers... Yes, they looked OK. I think I have done everything haven't I?' I asked myself as I went downstairs to get the vacuum cleaner.
After quickly vacuuming the floors and dusting the windowsills, I concentrated on the rest of my checklist of things to do. I used to have a written list, but nowadays it is well rehearsed in my head as hubby and I have run our home as a part time farm stay, for the last 2 years.
The next job is to feed hay to our rare Belted Galloway cattle (a beef breed that originated in Scotland that has a long shaggy black coat, with a distinctive white band around their middle). I walked up to the 4 wheeled motorbike in the hay shed, some 60 metres from the house, lifted 20 bales of fresh hay onto the bike and trailer, drove down the hill and fed it to the cattle.
It was now around 1 p.m. in the afternoon. 'Great' I thought 'Plenty of time left and things are looking OK, all I need to do now is the get in some firewood and make sure the kitchen is tidy.'
At 3p.m. the phone rang again. 'Good, this will be the travel agent confirming tonight's guests.'
"Hi, I am ringing on behalf of the party of 3 couples that are staying with you tonight; they want to confirm your booking." A woman said.
I was a little surprised to find it was a woman from a fashion shop in Christchurch.
"Can you see if they want dinner? And what time will they be arriving?" I asked, trying to ascertain as much information as possible about the guests.
"Just a minute...." There was talking in the background. "I'm having a little difficulty, as they are all profoundly deaf and can not talk on the phone. That is why they have asked me to ring." She said.
"Thank you very much for helping them and pass on that I will be expecting them around 7.30p.m."
"Great, thank you." said the woman.
I hung up the phone. This would be an interesting group. The rest of the afternoon was filled with housework and preparations for the guests. To save time tomorrow, I prepared the formal dining room for breakfast, setting the table and putting out the cereal, jams and bottled fruits.
There wasn't really time for tea that night; I had a quick bowl of soup. I often had some vegetable soup bubbling on the stove in winter, as it was a quick, easy and economical meal.
Our old historical house was beginning to warm as the big open fires burned. One final check of the rooms put on the electric blankets and I was ready. Hubby rang at 7 p.m.
"Hi there," I said.
"Hi, what are you doing?" He asked.
"Not much." I replied.
I wanted to keep the fact that I was having guests a surprise. We were running very close to the wind financially, as we had both recently left our fulltime jobs to work on the farm. Having guests for one or two nights was going to help this week's income.
I thought he would be pleased when I banked the money on Monday. Cattle were being sold in the next couple of days, but in farming you don't often get paid right away. We chatted for some time that night...
7.30 p.m. came and went. 8.00, 9.00, 10.00p.m., still no guests. This wasn't too unusual as many people got lost coming to the farm.
I finally went to bed about midnight disappointed, but still expecting the guests. I decided to sleep partially clothed so that I could get dressed quickly. I left my top on and put my jeans beside the bed.
Suddenly, about 1 a.m., I awoke from my deep sleep. As I became more conscious I heard a tinkling noise, similar to the front door bell. We had a brass doorbell with a piece of rope as the ringer for guests to pull. 'Ah ...the guests must be here, good.' I thought.
As quickly as I could, I got up and went to pick up my jeans.
It was then I realised...there weren't any guests at the door.
My heart raced and started beating so heavily that I thought it was going to explode. I was hearing the most dreadful noise that I had ever heard in my life. What was about to happen was a woman's worst nightmare and it was happening to me, now. Often we think what would we do, but you can never be prepared in the real situation.
I came to the reality that someone was in the house and running as fast as he could up the stairs. I knew instinctively that I was going to die. There were two loud bangs as the doors were slammed open.
Then...
I heard a man's heavy breathing or panting coming from the stairwell. It was the sort of noise that you would expect from a horror movie. I could hear heavy bounding footsteps coming up the stairs towards me...
Catalogue Information
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