by Belinda Neil
I spent the next few days on this and went on call again as a negotiator as well. On 26 September after finally finishing work at 5pm I headed home, had dinner and got ready to settle in for the evening. At about 8.30 my pager activated. A young man had barricaded himself in a house at Whalan, about forty-four kilometres west of Sydney, and threatened to commit suicide. It meant another forty-five-minute high-speed drive. I met the negotiation team near the house and spent the next fourteen hours with the other team members trying to convince the young man not to commit suicide.
By 11.30 the next morning the suicide intervention was over. To this day I cannot remember how the situation was resolved, whether the young man surrendered or whether it was a Tactical resolution, but he did not kill himself. I was bone tired, having been awake for more than twenty-eight hours, and I went home to get some well-deserved sleep.
On the morning of the following day I started work at Bondi police station to continue putting together the brief of evidence for Hagland. One of the Homicide supervisors rang me to say there had been a police shooting incident. A Critical Incident Investigation Team (CIIT) had been set up and I was required to attend as an investigator. I was worn out. I knew this would be a long and involved investigation but was told that no one else was available so I felt compelled to attend. The only way I could cope was to push all other thoughts out of my head and concentrate on this matter now at hand.
On 27 September two senior police, on their way to the church service for Police Remembrance Day, had come across a robbery at the Percy Marks jewellery store in Elizabeth Street in the city. There was a shootout between the police officers and armed robbers, one of whom was shot in the shoulder. The robbers escaped. Our role was to ascertain if the police officers had been justified in using their firearms.
I had never been involved in this type of investigation, but I knew the officer in charge, Detective Senior Sergeant Gordon, and was looking forward to working with him. After being briefed I headed out to the crime scene. Detective Senior Sergeant Gordon was extremely professional and easily took over from the local investigators to run the crime scene, ensuring it was set up properly.
We returned to the office, where another detective and I were to interview one of the police officers involved in the shooting. My work partner had never been part of this type of investigation either, but agreed to be in charge. I was glad he did; he would be required to put the brief of evidence together and I just didn’t have the time to do that properly.
We conducted a lengthy interview with our senior police officer and given the evidence we had, were finally satisfied that he had used his firearm in accordance with the NSW police guidelines. Now we needed to interview the injured offender, but we did not have one; he had escaped in a getaway car with his accomplices. We did not know how seriously he was injured, although we had been told he had been shot in the shoulder, and we needed to find him quickly because of possible complications to his health. He had been hit with a controlled expansion projectile, otherwise known as a hollow point bullet, which is designed to expand on impact due to the hollowed-out pit in the tip. This causes more tissue damage than an ordinary bullet and can lead to greater blood loss.
The hunt for the armed robbers went on for hours, to no avail. I finally finished at midnight after another sixteen-hour shift. Once again I was looking forward to my free weekend, hoping for a quiet time as a negotiator. Sometimes I had been on call for a week without one negotiator callout, so I hoped the weekend would be uninterrupted.
Famous last words. On Saturday 28 September the negotiator pager activated about 11am. At least I had had a decent night’s sleep. This time I was summoned to the Windsor area to meet our negotiator team leader and the Tactical police and try to arrest an escaped prisoner safely. This prisoner was extremely volatile with a lengthy history of armed robberies and other offences involving weapons and violence. The Tactical police were to arrest him during a high-risk vehicle stop and we negotiators were to stay at a safe distance, only becoming involved if a siege developed. So I was on standby for most of the day. Eventually the escaped prisoner was safely apprehended and I finished at 6pm. So much for my relaxing day off.
About 8.30pm my pager activated again. This time, a man had taken a woman hostage at Crows Nest. I was instantly alert, aided by a rush of adrenalin. It was raining heavily when I arrived at the house in Ernest Street and the Tactical team were already there, as was Whitey, the primary negotiator. The rest of our negotiation team hadn’t arrived at this stage. We were told that the hostage, Grace, had tried to end her three-month relationship with Ivan Christov earlier that day. Christov, armed with a small open flick knife, had confronted her and her mother in the bedroom of her home. He punched Grace and dragged her into the kitchen, where he grabbed a thirty-centimetre carving knife. He then dragged her back to the bedroom and barricaded himself and Grace in there, threatening to kill her.
One of the uniform officers had climbed over the police barricade and was in the bedroom trying to negotiate with Christov. Christov was becoming more aggressive and the emotion in the room was intensifying and threatening to get out of control. Our first job was to try and calm the situation by getting the police officer out of the room without jeopardising either his safety or Grace’s. We needed to do this before the police officer became another hostage or Christov stabbed Grace.
The Tactical team gave Whitey and me a ballistic vest each. This had ceramic high velocity trauma plates, front and back, and weighed about twenty kilograms. I simply couldn’t get it over my head due to its awkward size and weight and needed the help of the Tactical police. I would spend the next eight hours on my feet and wearing this vest.
My role as the secondary negotiator was to back up Whitey, giving him support and relieve him if necessary. We knew what we had to do and we needed to do it fast. There was no time to sit around discussing our roles and gathering more intelligence. Years of training and experience were about to be put into practice.
We went through the front door of the house into a hallway. The first room to the right was the bedroom in which Christov, Grace and the young uniformed police officer were holed up. The top panel of the bedroom door was missing and the bottom still intact, and I saw that Christov had set up barricades. The bed had been overturned and the wire frame was against the doorway. A heavy-looking wardrobe, a number of boxes and other furniture had been stacked up around the doorway, making a quick entry into the room impossible. The mattress had been placed against the front external window, blocking any view into the room.
Inside the room we were confronted with a very tense situation. Christov, wild-eyed and crazy-haired, was shouting that he would kill his hostage if the young police officer did not get out of the bedroom. He was holding Grace in a headlock with the carving knife pressed against one side of her neck and the pocketknife pressed against the other. Grace was screaming for help, her white top covered in blood where Christov had already cut her neck. She also had injuries to her hand and deep cuts to her thigh. The young uniformed officer was pleading with Christov to put down the knife.
The presence of the uniformed cop, with all good intention to rescue Grace, was only serving to worsen what was already a very dangerous situation. There was no chance he could get close enough to disarm Ivan before Ivan had the chance to run both knives though Grace’s neck.
Whitey quickly introduced himself to Christov as a police negotiator.
Then in a clear, calm voice he said, ‘I would like you to let the police officer out of the room, please.’
He needed to repeat himself a number of times as Christov’s fury was entirely focused on the young officer. Whitey turned to the police officer and told him to back very slowly past the barricade and out of the room. The young officer had a look of disbelief on his face; he didn’t want to leave the victim in the hands of this madman, and I didn’t blame him. I also felt for Grace in her helplessness, being left alone in the bedroom with Christov.
She saw her only security leave the room, and she would not have understood why. Christov’s rage was intensifying and it looked as if he was ready to torture her further or kill her. She was in grave danger.
As soon as the young police officer climbed over the last obstacle and left the room, Whitey started talking to Christov. At this stage I noticed that Christov had set up mirrors that enabled him to see a short way along the hallway. It was a very cunning move, as he would have time to kill Grace if he saw anyone coming towards the room.
Over the next few hours Whitey spoke with Christov. Sometimes Christov would lose his temper, shout that he was going to kill Grace and make what appeared to be small, superficial cuts in her neck while she screamed for help. I asked ambulance officers whether these cuts could be life-threatening, but they said they were not and gave me instructions, which we would later pass on to Christov, about how to treat the cuts. The information from the ambulance officers was crucial; Christov could kill Grace in seconds. We believed he would certainly do that if he knew Tactical police intended to charge into the bedroom, as they would take more than a few seconds to disarm him. Even if Tactical police had been able to shoot Christov, he could have had time to kill Grace. Negotiation appeared to be the only option at that point. It was a very difficult situation, made worse by the look of sheer terror on Grace’s tear-stained face.
Initially we had received virtually no information about Christov, and finding out more was crucial in planning our negotiation strategy. When we realised we were in for the long haul, our consulting psychiatrist arrived.
During the course of a very tense high-risk negotiation like this, it is imperative that the team has time out for briefings. During one of Whitey’s conversations he told Christov that we intended to leave the bedroom doorway for a short time.
Christov said, ‘If you leave the doorway clear I will lay her on the floor and hold the carving knife against her like this.’ He pointed the tip of the carving knife at Grace’s chest, over her heart.
‘I will lie on top of her with the knife in between us and if anyone enters the room I will let go.’ He would drop his weight onto the carving knife, forcing it into her chest. Grace naturally became very distressed, which only aggravated Christov. Because she was in such danger Whitey and I decided very quickly that I would remain at the doorway while Whitey was briefed.
I noticed Christov becoming more agitated with Grace’s crying and suggested that she might be allowed to change her shirt. It looked cold and wet, covered in blood, and this might also have been upsetting her. He agreed and allowed her to change her top, picking out another among the clothes strewn on the floor.
At another stage Christov said, ‘I just want to get my cigarettes. They are in that bag,’ pointing to a bag near the bedroom door.
‘Sure,’ I said.
I had no problem with that and I raised my hands slightly, palms turned towards Christov to show there would be no trouble. I knew that there was no way the Tactical guys could get over the barrier to grab Christov, or possibly fire a shot, before he got back to Grace. I was so focused on the situation in the bedroom that when Christov moved slightly towards the doorway I took an involuntary step back, still with my hands in the air.
In my peripheral vision, I noticed movements on either side of me in the hallway. Two Tactical teams, who had been watching me, had raised their Heckler and Koch MP5 9mm sub-machine guns in anticipation of a possible assault or surrender. I could see them both advancing, their guns at the ready, thinking that something was about to happen. I was so focused that I hadn’t even realised they were there. I also saw that Whitey had come to the top of the hallway. As both my hands were already raised I turned my palms out and gave a slight shake of my head to let the Tactical guys know to stop where they were. They understood the message and backed off. Christov retrieved the cigarettes and moved back to his position, thankfully unaware of what had been happening in the hallway.
I felt totally helpless in not being able to do more for Grace. I saw that she was scared and in pain, but I could only watch. I couldn’t be seen by Christov to give her too much attention or offer her comfort, for fear he would hurt her again just to taunt us.
Whitey came back to the doorway soon after and I left to have a break and be briefed. I was told that Christov had a lengthy criminal history involving violence, particularly against women, as well as other offences. In 1975, at the age of twenty-four he had been charged with attempted murder and a number of assaults, one involving firearms after being rejected by a woman he had been involved with.
The negotiations continued over eight hours. No matter how tense it became or how much Christov threatened Grace, Whitey’s voice was always calm and reassuring. I don’t know how Whitey was feeling physically at that point but my back was killing me from standing up in the ballistic vest.
Christov would at times speak to Grace in a Slavic language so an interpreter was called in. At other times he would yell at Grace that the police were going to kill him. Christov was given coffee at his request and occasionally we watched him snort white powder up his nose. He told us this was cocaine to keep him awake.
At a time when he was calm Whitey told him how to treat Grace’s wounds, telling him this would be looked on favourably when he came out. It was considered a good sign if we could get him to look after his hostage.
Whitey kept asking Christov to hand over the knives, to allow Grace to leave and to come out of the bedroom, but Christov refused. He asked for his solicitor to come to the house, but we thought that would be too dangerous. Christov was unstable and we couldn’t predict what he would do. There was no problem allowing him access to his solicitor at the police station but not here. We compromised and organised for his solicitor to record a message telling Christov he would be waiting for him at North Sydney police station, further reassurance to Christov that he would be coming out.
About 4.20am, nearly eight hours after our initial callout, Christov allowed Grace to hand Whitey the large carving knife. We felt a breakthrough had been made at last, but still we could not let our guard down. Christov still had Grace and the smaller knife. Whitey asked for the smaller pocket knife, and without warning, perhaps as a final act of opposition, Christov threw the pocketknife straight at him. Fortunately Whitey was wearing the ballistic vest and the knife glanced off his chest.
We finally had both knives but we could not arrest Christov. He could have used other objects in the room to injure Grace, and we did not know whether he had any concealed weapons. At least he was showing a serious commitment to ending the siege peacefully.
After more negotiation Christov finally allowed Grace to leave the room. As soon as she came out she was put into the care of the ambulance officers because she had some serious injuries; deep stab wounds to her thighs, severe cuts on her hand where she had tried to defend herself initially, lacerations to her abdomen, and superficial wounds on her neck. She was also suffering from shock.
We could not relax; now was the time to change our focus. We had been concentrating on achieving Grace’s release, but now the issue was whether Christov would feel he had lost control and had no hope. Would he become suicidal? Our role as negotiators was about saving lives, in this case not just that of the hostage but also that of the hostage taker.
Whitey and I only had a few minutes to discuss this while Grace was leaving the bedroom, but it was enough for Whitey to refocus his thinking around possible suicide intervention. He eventually managed to coax Christov from the room. Christov was arrested by the Tactical police and taken to North Sydney police station to see his solicitor.
Whitey and I were not involved in the interview and charging process; our part had ended. We all went back to North Sydney to have an operational debriefing with the Tactical police. Later we heard that a makeshift bed had been set up in the roof of the house directly above Grace’s bedroom; a blanket, doona and some McDonald’s wrappers were found. Whilst investigators initially believed C
hristov had done this, it was in fact the work of the Tactical police, who had been ready to go through the ceiling if necessary.
I finished at 7am on Sunday morning 29 September. I was shattered, having in the previous forty-eight hours been involved in a police shooting investigation and two negotiator callouts, the second of which was one of the most mentally and physically exhausting negotiations I had ever experienced. It had been a long few days, as well as a very busy month. I went straight to bed and fell into a dead sleep.
About 8.30pm that night my pager activated yet again. This time I was to negotiate with a woman armed with a knife and again this was on the north side of Sydney. When I arrived about forty-five minutes later I could see that the other negotiators all looked as tired as I felt. None of us could believe the week we were having. Fortunately, the woman surrendered herself after a short negotiation and we finished at 11pm.
September was almost over. It was time to return the negotiator pager, take the home phone off the hook, enjoy a few well-earned days off and reintroduce myself to my husband. It had never occurred to me that I might have been taking on too much; working both Homicide and high-risk negotiation. The reality was, as the month of September showed, that I was becoming too subjective and not able to think objectively in terms of my own welfare. My approach to work was almost paramilitary: I had an overwhelming sense of duty that allowed me to disassociate and tolerate the hours and the situations I was involved with. I was almost like a gambler at the casino, without external references to or knowledge about whether it was night or day, just this disconnection allowing me to concentrate on the job at hand.
I felt as if the work I was doing as a negotiator effectively kept me going through what was a particularly dark and busy time at the Homicide Unit, the balance of light and dark, saving lives versus death. To me, one balanced the other and I needed to know there was a positive to offset the images of death surrounding me.