‘Do I have to keep suffering through this?': The moment Erin Patterson lost her cool in court

The Age

07-07-2025

Erin Patterson has been found guilty of murdering three people and trying to kill a fourth by poisoning them with death cap mushrooms. See all 13 stories.
It is the outburst the jury never heard but which would quietly define the first days of Erin Patterson's murder trial.
It was April 30, and the prosecution was only an hour into laying out its case against the killer cook, when the mother of two hissed at her defence team from the dock in courtroom four.
'Do I have to keep suffering through this?' she cried out.
The court had just adjourned for a mid-morning break after senior Crown prosecutor Dr Nanette Rogers, SC, laid out a damning allegation against Patterson – that during the July 2023 lunch, she had eaten from a different-coloured plate to her four guests, all of whom had fallen gravely ill.
With all 15 jurors now gone, Patterson sat between two security guards with her head tilted up and her eyes closed, surrounded by her legal team, who had rushed over to placate her.
'Stay in the present,' defence barrister Colin Mandy, SC, reminded Patterson, before asking if she was familiar with German spiritual teacher Eckhart Tolle's self-help book The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment.
It was unclear whether Patterson's distress was linked to the trial or her living conditions inside the Morwell police station cells, which had become a source of annoyance for her, barely a day into the proceedings.
The previous afternoon, Mandy had lodged an extraordinary appeal with Supreme Court Justice Christopher Beale, asking for 'special treatment' for his client and arguing that the defence was unable to do its job properly if Patterson was suffering.
The source of Patterson's discomfort was the fact she was not allowed to have a laptop or writing materials in her cell, and that she had not been given a doona and pillow for her bed. She wanted access to a laptop to review the brief of evidence of the case, which was tens of thousands of pages.
But despite a request to Corrections Victoria before her transfer from the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre, the women's maximum security prison in Melbourne, Patterson was told she wouldn't receive special treatment.
'At some stage, she was given a blanket, but she spent the night cold and awake,' Mandy said. 'She can't operate like that.'
'It is our submission that someone who is in police cells for five weeks, facing several murder trials, with a massive brief of evidence, should be afforded some accommodation because in some ways … she requires special treatment so that we can do our job properly.'
The cells, which are housed in the police station next to the court, are used to hold accused criminals on remand until they can appear in court the following day or over the weekend. They are not staffed or designed to house prisoners for lengthy periods.
'I think your estimate of this trial was four weeks, Mr Mandy,' Beale teased the defence barrister 26 days into the trial, as it became apparent the timeline was blowing out yet again.
'Don't believe a word he says, your honour,' prosecutor Rogers chimed in.
According to police, Patterson, who requested to be tried in Morwell instead of in Melbourne, was aware of the living conditions at the station since at least June 2024.
Eventually, Mandy dropped the matter after nearly two weeks of behind-the-scenes discussions, arguing that conditions in the cells for Patterson had improved. But Patterson's outbursts, requests, and dead stares at members of the press seated inside the courtroom quietly continued.
However, one of the most bizarre scenes of the trial was staged by Patterson's estranged husband and a key witness in the case, Simon Patterson, who embarked on an impassioned personal plea to Beale to be granted access to the trial and pre-trial transcripts to 'grieve the legal process'.
'I have a small request for you, please,' Simon asked from the witness box during a break in proceedings on May 1. 'Your honour, would you be able to make available – after all the legal proceedings are finished – the transcripts of all those hearings, including the trial, for me to be able to, as I grieve the legal process, to help me deal with that grief … it will take me years.'
Beale reminded Simon that he could sit in court after his evidence concluded, and said he would consider his request. However, Simon took another punt after concluding his evidence four days later.
'Mr Patterson, in relation to the matter you raised with me the other day about getting a transcript of the entire proceedings, it's a matter that I've yet to discuss with counsel. If it were to happen, it couldn't happen, in my view, until the conclusion of the criminal proceedings. I'm not just talking about the trial, necessarily,' Beale responded.
Simon Patterson was again propelled into the limelight the following day, when Beale told parties in the court that he received information about Simon's plans to make a statement to the media following the conclusion of his evidence – a move that the judge warned against.
'Whatever his media adviser might be telling him, it seems to me the most prudent course for him is to defer any statement to the media until after the conclusion of the trial,' Beale said.
Simon refrained from attending court in person again. However, other members of the Patterson and Wilkinson families, including lunch survivor Ian Wilkinson, became a daily presence.
The mother-of-two's only supporter in court sat behind Patterson's legal team on and off during the trial, sometimes bringing in takeaway coffees for the defence.
The next twist came on May 15, when Beale revealed a tip-off had come in through the court's general email inbox, dobbing in a juror for potentially discussing the case with friends and family.
Beale ordered juror 84 to pack up their belongings and be brought into court, where they were notified that they were booted off the case.
'A few moments ago, I discharged juror number 84 ... I was of the view that it was at least a reasonable possibility that the information I'd received was credible,' Beale told the remaining jurors.
'I hasten to add that I have not made a positive finding that juror No. 84 discussed the case with family and friends, but neither could I dismiss the possibility that he had.'
The court impanelled 15 jurors, three more than the 12 required, to ensure there were enough to deliver a verdict if someone fell ill or had to be excused.
They were chosen from a pool of those who did not personally know the witnesses and had managed to avoid most of the barrage of podcasts, news reports and social media reels about the high-profile case, much of which made global news.
Two jurors were later balloted off just before they were sent out to deliberate and, in a highly unusual move for modern courts, the remaining jurors were sequestered – kept together night and day – until the verdict was reached.
As well as the logistical difficulties of running a long trial in the country, Beale also had to contend with multiple potential breaches of sub judice rules – which restrict comment or reporting on a case to what is heard by the jury – by media outlets, podcasts, radio hosts, academics and influencers over the course of the trial.
The first came on May 20, when a TV news bulletin used the word 'damning' to describe CCTV footage of Patterson spending nine seconds in a petrol station bathroom after the fatal lunch.
The second came just hours before Patterson stepped into the witness box, when a forensic psychologist allegedly discussed the case during a lecture on the psychology of serial killers at Melbourne's Hamer Hall on May 31. Described as an 'unmissable event', the talk promised to delve into the minds of the world's most notorious murderers.
The potential breach prompted Beale to get the court staff to ask the jurors whether they had attended any events or shows in Melbourne that weekend. To his relief, none had. 'There was one person who attended an event in Melbourne and that was the soccer,' Beale told the court.
In early June, influencer Constance Hall found herself in trouble after an online tirade about how something felt 'off' about the case, and she worried Patterson might not have served the poisoned beef Wellingtons on purpose. She told her followers she had many photos of mushrooms on her phone, including with 'superimposed fairies under them'.
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'So as an example, I doubt it would be hard to build a case against me and mushrooms ... but I guess I'd also never cook for my ex-in-laws,' Hall wrote.
The self-described designer, artist and writer, who has about 1.3 million followers on Facebook and another 368,000 on Instagram, later told her fans she had been told to remove the post.
'What I am saying ... to the Victoria government Supreme Court [is] if I monitored my post and read every comment, I get riddled by anxiety, and I don't need that,' the influencer told her followers.
'It's important not to have that, especially as a creative. You need to stay on your creative path. You need to be able to write what you want to write and that is hard.'