Erin Patterson endured freezing cell conditions during her trial — now she's headed to maximum-security jail

Australia Broadcast Center

08-07-2025

Since the start of her murder and attempted murder trial, Erin Patterson's daily routine had been the same.
On Monday mornings, Patterson would board a van at the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre maximum security women's prison in Melbourne's western suburbs and make the two-hour journey — more than 170 kilometres — to the Latrobe Valley in south-eastern Victoria.
By the time she reached Morwell, where her case was being heard, a waiting contingent of photographers would emerge from the fog near the town's rose garden like a spectre, jostling for the money shot.
Patterson would then be taken to the cells at the local police station, her home for the week, before making the journey in reverse.
Before the trial began, she'd already been in custody for more than 600 days since her arrest on November 2, 2023.
Patterson, who was on Tuesday convicted of murder and attempted murder, had struck a deal with Corrections Victoria that she would be able to be able to take a doona and pillow into her bare concrete cell.
Her defence lawyer, Colin Mandy SC, told the Supreme Court of Victoria none of those things were provided.
"At some stage she was given a blanket, but she spent the night cold and awake … and she can't operate like that," Mr Mandy said at the time.
"Someone who is in police cells for five weeks, facing a murder trial … requires special treatment so that we can do our job properly, so that she can provide us with proper instructions so that she's not uncomfortable," he said.
"It won't be fair to her if that situation continues."
Patterson would eventually receive a doona, a pillow and a sheet, but according to sources familiar with the cells at the Morwell police station, it still would not have been a comfortable stay.
"They're simply not designed for people to live in," said one criminal lawyer.
Until now, the Supreme Court has prevented details of Patterson's time in custody from being published to preserve her right to a fair trial.
The only public description of Patterson's cell was made by Justice Christopher Beale, who inspected it before the trial started.
"I was shown the cell where she is now being held and the bedding is really just a bit of plastic attached to the floor," the judge told the court.
Patterson's accommodation in Morwell was a significant shift from what she was used to at the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre, a maximum-security facility for women that houses 538 prisoners.
The Morwell cells often house people who are drunk or high and, by extension, their associated bodily fluids, which are pressure-hosed out before someone else checks in.
Legal sources said the cells, which are made of concrete, were not only extremely cold but quite loud, with sound echoing off every surface.
Another criminal lawyer was franker in her assessment.
"[They're] just old shitty cells," she said.
"It's not clean, that's for sure."
The second criminal lawyer said clients were brought into a particular area to speak to their legal team.
"They're just like these little boxes like you see in the movies where there's a clear plastic screen separating you," she said.
By contrast, some prisoners at the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre, which also houses Melbourne crime matriarch Judy Moran and convicted paedophile Malka Leifer, have access to more creature comforts to help pass their sentences.
In some high-privilege units within the prison, inmates have access to a television and couches. Others are allowed to train support dogs during the day.
Some prisoners even have microwaves in their cells.
But according to one source who has made frequent visits to the women's prison, even those small comforts are not enough to distract prisoners from reality.
"Can you imagine waking up in the morning and you don't see the outside world. You see fences all around — that's what it looks like. It's depressing," they said.
The source said visitors were usually allowed on weekends.
"There's a visitor centre there. They've got the babies there, the playgrounds and stuff for all the kids — it's like a primary school," they said.
"When you go through the entry point you get treated like a criminal. You've got to go through the scanner, you've got to get an eye test to ID you," they said.
The prison's stringent visitor policy is something Patterson will have to get used to.
The 50-year-old is now facing life in prison over the murders of Heather Wilkinson, Don and Gail Patterson and the attempted murder of Ian Wilkinson.
The beef Wellington used to murder her in-laws has captured global attention, which is no surprise to Brandy Cochrane, a criminologist at Victoria University.
"There's a long history of fascination with women who kill," Dr Cochrane told ABC Radio Melbourne.
"There are a lot of parallels between the way that the media and the courts treated Lindy Chamberlain and Erin Patterson."
She said both Patterson and Chamberlain were criticised for showing no emotion during their verdicts, which was interpreted as "another damning moment for both of them".
Kathryn Whitely, a US-based feminist criminologist, has worked with 100 female murderers around the world and conducted an in-depth study of women at the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre.
"In the US, it'd be termed a mass killing. Very, very rare for a female," Dr Whiteley said.
"Women, also as we understand, no matter if it's mass or not in this case, their victims are usually someone that is close to them, someone that they know, and often someone that they love," she said.
Dr Whiteley, who closely followed the case, said Patterson had struggled with "self-esteem challenges" and would take years to adapt to prison life.
"She will find that it will be hard to adjust," she said.
"It takes anywhere from five to seven years for a woman to at least assimilate or adjust to the 'prison way' or prison approach to how we survive inside."
It comes as the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre, which Patterson will now call home, faces significant issues.
In June this year, the ABC revealed the prison has faced unprecedented rolling lockdowns due to a lack of staff.
Former prisoners said they were locked away with no interaction, support or even meals for days and nights on end.
Since July 2024, confidential government correspondence reveals there have been at least 106 lockdowns.
Another lawyer told the ABC its prisoners like Patterson would be facing significant restrictions.
"Whatever her life is going to be like in Dame Phyllis, at the moment she's going to be more restricted," he said.