Police have been told that a mystery man was seen about the flats in which the Thornes live, making enquiries about a fortnight ago. Occupants of the flats who saw the man are studying police photographs and it is felt that this angle of the enquiry could bring developments.
Let them look at every single photograph in the police archives – nothing there could provide a link to him! One man, described as a tough and callous member of the Sydney underworld, told the Daily Mirror: ‘I’ll bet a thousand quid to a peanut it’s not an Australian knockabout man responsible for this.’ Bradley laughed out loud when he read that Mrs Kate Ryan (formerly Mrs Leigh), an infamous member of Sydney’s underworld, had said:
I’ve got one of the biggest butcher’s knives in Sydney and it would give me the greatest pleasure to use it on the mongrels. I hope I can hear something that will put me on their trail. By the time I finish with them they will make a good meal for the dogs’ home.
With some pride, Bradley read the opinion of the Police Commissioner:
The person or persons who abducted Graeme worked so silently that the kidnapping had obviously been planned with great thought and split-second timing.
At least the authorities could recognise a clever and well-organised operator, even if they lacked the capacity to expose him.
That evening, Stephen phoned Magda in Queensland to tell her that the removalists had successfully taken all their possessions and that he would drive up to join them, bringing with him Cherie, the Pekinese dog, and the family cat.
* * *
In Surfers Paradise, Magda Bradley saw a television news broadcast about the kidnapping of eight-year-old Graeme Thorne in Sydney. Did she know, or guess, that her husband was responsible for this dastardly plot? While he might be capable of financial irregularities and mismanagement, or even the odd insurance fraud, did she consider that he was vicious enough to abduct a young boy who was around the same age as his own daughter and to put the poor parents through the agony of not knowing whether they would ever see him alive again?
That night, as Magda lay in bed at the Seabreeze Private Hotel worrying about her absent husband, did a terrible thought come to her that previously might have bubbled away beneath the surface of her consciousness, that was kept firmly at bay unless they had an argument: How was it that Stephen’s second wife had tragically died in a car accident when her brakes suddenly and inexplicably failed, leaving Stephen as the sole owner of their joint property? He had once told her in an unguarded moment that before her death his previous wife had refused to cooperate with him in a plan he had devised to invest some of her money. Did Magda for one dreadful moment wonder whether she, and even her children, might be at risk from Stephen if she refused to go along with one of his crazy plans? Was that why she had never stood in his way when he wanted to recklessly invest the money she had received from Gregor Weinberg on some wild, new venture that she couldn’t understand? As she drifted towards sleep, did her worries evaporate as she dismissed these negative thoughts as just petty insecurities derived from the tiredness of looking after the children on her own?
On Stephen’s arrival at Surfers Paradise during the night of 9–10 July, all their previous tensions dissipated. Although Stephen was very tired – which Magda presumed was from packing up their possessions, supervising the removal and then driving the 600 miles to Queensland – he played beautifully with the children and he was particularly kind and attentive to her. How could she possibly have thought that he was capable of such an evil deed?
* * *
It was not until late on Friday 8 July, about thirty-three hours after Graeme had been abducted, that the police got their first major lead in the investigation. That evening, at about 6pm, a seventy-five-year-old man, Joseph Bell of Collaroy, called the police to report that he had found a school case with Graeme’s name in it lying in thick bushland in Frenchs Forest, about 10 yards off the Wakehurst Parkway near the Lord Wakehurst Memorial, east of Bantry Bay. He told police he had been fossicking in the bush for discarded empty soft-drink bottles (for which there was a 3p refund for each bottle) when he came upon the case. Realising that it was likely Graeme Thorne’s, he hid it in a hollow and went home. Inexplicably, he waited six hours to notify the police. Police immediately converged on the area around the Lord Wakehurst Memorial, and the school case was taken to police headquarters where it was closely examined. Unfortunately, there were no fingerprints on it.
Later that night, Commissioner Delaney made a further appeal to the kidnapper in this public statement:
Although every avenue open to my department has been thoroughly investigated, no information has been obtained to establish the identity of the kidnapper. We are gravely concerned for the safety of Graeme Thorne. His life means more than money or the observance of conventional criminal investigation procedure. We cannot and will not compromise with a criminal, but we have a great and grave responsibility to do all in our power to have the child returned unharmed. This is a desperate situation and it demands drastic measures. Therefore, as Commissioner of Police, I say this to the kidnapper of Graeme Thorne: make contact urgently with the boy’s parents. Satisfy them that he is alive and well and that if payment is made he will be returned. We want, above all, to know that the boy is alive and well and that no harm has befallen him. I therefore urge you to make contact with his parents.
The Commissioner followed this up with instructions to all police that nothing should be done to frustrate the handing over of the ransom or anything else that could endanger the boy’s life.
The following day, Saturday 9 July, as Stephen Bradley was driving his Customline to Queensland to join his family, a huge search was conducted in the bushland on both sides of the Wakehurst Parkway, extending on one side through the bush down to Bantry Bay. It involved 250 police, 230 soldiers, more than 200 members of the Warringah Shire Civil Defence Organisation, sniffer dogs, helicopters, divers and others. A reporter for the Sun stated that the scene resembled preparations for a wartime manoeuvre.
The search continued for a number of days, and it was not until Monday 11 July that Graeme’s school cap, raincoat, mathematics textbook and lunchbox were found in bush beside the Wakehurst Parkway about a mile away from the school case and on the opposite side of the road. Ominously, the lunchbox contained the untouched food that Freda had prepared for Graeme on the morning of his abduction, including the apple she had lovingly peeled before carefully rewrapping the skin around it. Things were not looking good for Graeme.
7
IMPOSTORS AND INFORMANTS
The finding of the school case and its contents was considered by police to be a disturbing sign for Graeme Thorne’s fate. However, the investigating team – indeed the whole nation – refused to give up hope that he might still be found alive.
Bazil and Freda Thorne were informed about the school case on the Friday night that it was found, and about the other items when they were located three days later. The police brought each item to them for identification purposes, and every time it was like a stab to the heart for them to sight the objects they knew so well. While logic told them that this was not a good omen for Graeme, they desperately hoped that the kidnapper had discarded these items because he didn’t need them to get the ransom. They felt helpless that they could do nothing to assist their son in his time of need and, as each day passed, their fears increased. They could not understand why the kidnapper was being so elusive. Was he trying to torture them, so that they would more readily pay the ransom? Surely, with all the publicity about their willingness to pay, this was unnecessary. Each time the phone or the doorbell rang, their hearts would race with anticipation and dread in equal measure, only to be dashed when it was not news about Graeme. They both suffered extreme agitation which drained every ounce of energy from their bodies, and yet Bazil would restlessly pace around the house – particularly at night – trying to resist the ridiculous urge to go outside and look for Graeme. They constantly wished that they could turn
back the clock by returning the money they had won – if only they could have their son back. The money now seemed dirty – as though they had done something wrong to obtain it – and they couldn’t imagine ever enjoying the fruits of it in the future. How could they have been so stupid as to allow the papers to take Bazil’s photo with his lottery ticket? Hadn’t they been taught as children not to gloat! Freda was beset with thoughts that Graeme might be suffering from extreme cold, as the overnight temperatures often dropped to between 40 and 50 degrees Fahrenheit1. She would lie in bed for hours at night, clutching the blankets fiercely up to her neck, with tears silently oozing from her eyes. Day after day, Bazil and Freda tried to reassure Belinda that her brother would still be found and brought home. The youngster would ask repeatedly why Graeme was ‘lost’, and eventually asked the questions she really wanted answered: ‘Will anyone else be lost?’ and ‘Will I be lost?’ As each day went by, however, Bazil and Freda’s assurances to their daughter sounded more formulaic and less convincing.
Following the finding of the school case and its contents, an impassioned message from Bazil Thorne was broadcast on the television and relayed through the newspapers in a variety of European languages:
To whoever is holding my son: I am ready to pay you the money you are demanding for his safe return. I will pay you in cash at any place and at any time you specify. You may contact me at my home. You will not be betrayed. Bazil Thorne.
Unfortunately, there was no response to Bazil’s plea – other than from impostors. According to the Sydney Morning Herald:
Already tortured by the uncertainty about the fate of their son, [Bazil and Freda Thorne] were pestered by telephone calls from cranks, sadists and irresponsibles. Repeatedly, the Thornes answered the phone late at night, only to hear the heavy breathing of a caller who remained silent. But the telephone could not be left off the hook or disconnected for fear of missing a genuine contact by the kidnapper. Police were posted to the Thornes’ flat to protect them and divert unwanted callers. Mr Thorne had personal assurance of [Police Commissioner] Mr Delaney that the police would make no move to frustrate a ransom meeting.2
On Sunday 10 July, by special arrangement, Bazil Thorne withdrew £25,000 in cash from the Bank of New South Wales. At first he kept the money at his flat, so that if the kidnapper suddenly made contact out of normal banking hours Bazil would be able to act swiftly to bring the money to him. At that stage, Detective Constable Lloyd Noonan or Sergeant Dave Paul were living in the flat day and night. These two officers had become an extension of the Thorne family and were a source of great strength and support to Bazil, Freda and Belinda. However, by now Bazil was determined to personally handle any further contact with the kidnapper, so he kept to himself and Freda many communications he received from would-be kidnappers. Several days later, Bazil took out another £25,000 because a person claiming to be the kidnapper had demanded an increase in the ransom. Bazil put the £50,000 in a bag and went on his own to the nominated meeting place, but nobody appeared and he returned home with the money in a state of utter dejection.
Over the next fortnight, Bazil and Freda were subjected to the most agonising torture of repeated extortion attempts by bogus callers pretending to have Graeme in their custody. Police on guard at their flat kept a close eye on Bazil, fearing that, because of his distraught state of mind, he would offer the £50,000 indiscriminately to anyone who said he could produce Graeme, or that he might be waylaid and robbed of the money on his way to a sham meeting. Eventually, on 25 July, because of police anxieties for his safety, Bazil returned the £50,000 to the bank, but special arrangements were made for it to be available on very short notice, even if the bank was closed.
On 11 July, four days after the kidnapping, a man with a foreign accent rang a phone number that was similar to the Thornes’, but differed in the prefix (the first two numbers that varied by suburb), and demanded that the ransom be delivered to Matraville Post Office within half an hour or the boy would die. The police were informed and rushed to the post office, but nobody was there.
The Thornes’ local minister at St Mark’s Church of England in Darling Point, Reverend Clive Goodwin, offered to act as an intermediary and made his own public appeal to the kidnappers to use his services to facilitate the payment of the ransom and the return of the child, promising to keep the identity of the kidnappers confidential. He offered that they could approach him either at his church or home and gave an assurance that the police would not be involved. He indicated that his church would be left unlocked with a light on twenty-four hours a day, in the hope that the kidnappers might leave Graeme there, or at least a note to commence negotiations. This appeal did not result in the real kidnapper making any further approach, but it did produce a very convincing bogus ransom demand.
A woman rang Reverend Goodwin at the church to say that she was a go-between for the kidnappers and that he should have the money wrapped in two separate parcels and await a call from her at 5pm. After discussion with the police, both Bazil and the reverend went to the church, and at the appointed time Bazil took the phone and spoke to her. He demanded to speak to Graeme. The woman then put on the line another person with a thin, faint voice that didn’t sound at all like Graeme. Bazil wanted to make absolutely sure that it was not his son, so he asked him, ‘What’s the name of your mate, Giddy, at school?’
The voice replied, ‘I’m not allowed to answer that one.’
Bazil retorted, ‘Then what’s the name of our former landlady?’
‘I’m not allowed to answer that one, either,’ replied the voice.
By this stage, Bazil was convinced that it was not Graeme speaking and said as much to the person at the other end. The woman then came back on the line and said, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t put Graeme on the phone because he’s been photographed too much and is too hot.’ She then gave instructions on how the ransom money should be taken to a location in Merrylands.
Despite this woman’s pathetic attempt at convincing Bazil that she had Graeme in her possession, Bazil was still determined not to let any possibility pass to be reunited with his son. He was reluctant to tell the police the instructions the woman had given him for the payment of the ransom, but he eventually did. The police advised him not to go to the location at Merrylands, however Bazil insisted. Reverend Goodwin agreed to go with him, but they wisely decided not to take the £25,000. When they went to the appointed place, no one was there.
On returning home, Bazil was so deflated that he broke down and wept. If only he had been home on the morning of Graeme’s kidnapping when the first contact was made by the real kidnapper. If only he had ignored police instructions and insisted on taking the call when the real kidnapper rang back on the night of the abduction, then surely by the following day, at the latest, Graeme would have been safely home!
Eventually, Reverend Goodwin withdrew as an intermediary because of the continual harassment from people making bogus demands for the ransom money. He was immediately replaced by the Lord Mayor of Sydney, Alderman Harry Jensen, who was also plagued by frequent hoaxers and limelighters. One man, who said he was Italian, rang him nearly a dozen times. Although Jensen had his doubts about the authenticity of this man, he was not prepared to take the risk of abandoning contact with him. In one telephone conversation, which lasted ninety minutes, the man told Jensen that all the kidnappers were migrants, that he was involved in only a minor way, and that the others were divided about what should be done with Graeme. Jensen tried to bargain with him, telling him that if he had played only a minor part and gave himself up it was possible that he would be treated differently to the others. The caller said that he would do nothing to harm Graeme, but that the child was at risk from the other kidnappers. Finally, he named some Italians living on the south coast as being involved. Jensen gave this information to the police, but investigations proved that the man was either a hoaxer or insane.
One of the most infamous attempts to collect the ransom money was instig
ated by a woman who wrote a letter to Freda, inviting her to a rendezvous in Brisbane to arrange for payment of the ransom and Graeme’s return. A Brisbane policewoman, who strongly resembled Freda, kept the appointment. The first meeting was to have been at Lennon’s Hotel in Brisbane. The policewoman answered a telephone call at the hotel for Mrs Thorne from a woman who spoke with a foreign accent, and who told her to leave £25,000 in a ferry shed at Norman Park. The policewoman left a package as directed, but nobody picked it up. Several days later, Freda received a second letter from this woman in which she accused Freda of having foolishly allowed the police to be near the ferry shed. The woman wrote:
I told you, if you want your boy you must play it my way. If you didn’t go to the police they must be keeping in close touch. I have told your son he will be home soon. He will not eat very much and has lost weight and is very happy about going back home. You have a few days to think it over. If you don’t succeed this time you can blame yourself for your son’s death. These instructions must be kept confidential. Do not tell your husband. Book a plane to Melbourne next Tuesday, but don’t take it. Then book a seat on the plane to Brisbane under the name of Higgins. Make sure no one is following you. Lose them. Then go to Exhibition [Ground], enter the gates near the Museum [Brisbane’s annual show was on at the time]. Make sure you are not followed. Go through the crowd around the ferris wheel and wait at the ticket box. I will send someone to collect the parcel containing £25,000 in notes in exchange for a letter telling where your son will be on Friday next.
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