MARK TEDESCHI does not have sparkling water views of Sydney Harbour from his corner office. Not even glimpses, such as corporate contemporaries enjoy. Instead, Tedeschi looks along Pitt Street, past the air ducts and grey rooftops of neighbouring office buildings at the poor-cousin end of the central business district.
He can watch the daily stream of lawyers and clients as they come and go from the Downing Centre below or, if he squints past the monorail track, might make out the back entrance of the Hilton Hotel, an abrasive reminder of his most controversial case in an amazing legal career.
Tedeschi is not complaining. He is a well-paid public servant and, if he is not the best-known lawyer in Sydney, his cases certainly have been prominent. NSW's most senior Crown prosecutor since 1997, he is the lawyer who has represented NSW citizens to prosecute some of the state's highest-profile killers: Ivan Milat, Bruce Burrell, Kathleen Folbigg, Arthur "Neddy" Smith, Sef Gonzales and Phuong Ngo among them.
But that's where the celebrity ends. Unlike the growing television fascination, real-life Crown prosecutors do not often give media conferences from the steps of grand stone buildings or make bold, flourishing public statements about crime and punishment. That's the role of his boss, the fiery NSW Director of Public Prosecutions, Nicholas Cowdery, QC. Tedeschi's job is to prosecute the law.
In full wig and gown the 54-year-old does not cut a particularly imposing figure. Tedeschi is quiet and considered. Conversations are conducted in the same manner. But it is the detached, methodical style which admirers say makes him formidable in building a case and holding the attention of jury members. His critics don't disagree, but counter that Tedeschi is overly adversarial and makes mistakes.
He has his fair share of admirers and critics. It comes with the territory...
Tedeschi accepts there is a line which must be observed to preserve the notion of justice. "It is a rather schizophrenic position. Your obligation is to present the evidence at its best, its highest. But we are not there to obtain a conviction at all costs. We're there to see that justice is done, and sometimes justice is served by an acquittal. On the other hand, the last thing the community wants is for a Crown prosecutor to go lame or dead in running a trial. Sometimes it can be difficult to reconcile those opposing objectives.
"The life of a Crown prosecutor is a very lonely one. The buck stops with us. You can never make the right decision all the time but if you make the right decision most of the time then you are serving the community well."
Tedeschi sees his skill in court as being a storyteller: "You have to be able to absorb a lot of highly complex material and make it digestible for ordinary lay people so they can understand it, remember it and, hopefully, act on it in a way which favours your case.
"The best technique is to pretend you are having a fireside chat with the jury; tell them a story about something that really happened. The prosecution address goes first so … if it is well told and logical then it can be very hard for the defence to shift."
TEDESCHI did not begin with a desire to be a prosecutor. Being a suburban solicitor then a legal academic and commercial law barrister was enough until he got a taste for criminal law. When he tried to move from private practice he applied, unsuccessfully, for a job with the Public Defender's Office. He didn't get an interview. In 1983 he joined the DPP's office...
Tedeschi also has strong opinions about juries. He is adamant the demand for efficiency and cost is threatening the jury system. Majority verdicts were an important step, and could go further, although he disagrees with suggestions that juries could be given a role in sentencing.
"Hung juries are the nail in the coffin of the jury system because the community is left without a verdict one way or the other," he says.
"The reason for that is that we know nothing about the jurors except what they look like; and that's notoriously unreliable. We don't know their names, where they come from, their occupations or their views. It's not like America where they get to question potential jurors. Out of 12 people chosen at random your chances of getting one odd bod are very high. Majority verdicts will create a more just and efficient criminal justice system.
"It has worked in England for over 30 years. There has never been a suggestion that it has resulted in more miscarriages of justice; rather, what it does is give you more verdicts, both ways, for guilty or not guilty."
Tedeschi says the influence of television programs is also affecting cases, because jury members focus too much on DNA evidence.
"Juries just expect that some scientific unit will come and do magic for them. If the case doesn't have the magic they think it's not good enough. They don't realise that DNA is extremely hard to get off most substances. Fingerprints don't get left everywhere; it depends on the surface, the temperature, whether it's indoors or outdoors. It's very good that people know more about the criminal justice system these days but from a prosecutor's perspective they get an unreal expectation."
Tedeschi has learnt to keep his expectations closer to reality. "I have never regretted leaving the private bar to be a public sector lawyer. I could be making a heck of a lot more money but there are other advantages like the quality of the work. And I don't have to chase solicitors for money."
