Under Siege

by Belinda Neil

  While I was working on the food extortion case in Sydney I was called out to a siege at Mays Hill, about twenty-five kilometres west of Sydney’s CBD. Late one evening outside the local rugby club a man named Dave had assaulted his girlfriend, injuring her. During the assault Dave produced a knife and threatened to kill her.

  Dave had left the area before the police arrived and his girlfriend told them he had probably gone home. She added that he was drunk and had knives, swords, a large bow and arrows and clubs at his home. Mindful of this, police went to Dave’s home in Mays Hill. Dave was home but became very aggressive and the police were unable to arrest him. By now they had been told that he had been involved with firearms so they set up perimeters and called in the State Protection Group, the Tactical Unit and negotiators.

  I was the primary negotiator, which meant I would be speaking with Dave. Because he was heavily armed, drunk and aggressive a face-to-face negotiation was considered too dangerous. We wanted to communicate with him as soon as possible but organising the negotiator truck would take time. Fortunately, an obliging neighbour was happy to let us use his home telephone. (There were no easy-access mobile phones in 1997.)

  It was now after midnight. Once I knew the Tactical team were in place, I called Dave from the neighbour’s house. The first telephone call is the most difficult and it is important to be very aware of the message you intend to give. I was not looking to resolve the situation, although that would have been nice, but to build up rapport with Dave and gather information about his state of mind and level of intoxication.

  During our conversation it became apparent that Dave was very depressed and threatening to kill himself. This was of great concern because of the weapons he had, which he confirmed. He might have come charging out of the house with a gun in the hope police would shoot him, committing ‘suicide by cop’.

  We talked about his current situation, the events that had led to this, and the future. He wanted me to come into his home and sit down to talk with him, but I had to be honest with him, saying I couldn’t because he was so heavily armed. I did tell him I would be happy to see him once he left the house safely.

  After some hours he agreed to leave all his weapons inside and surrender to police. I agreed to meet him outside after police had searched him. It was very necessary to explain everything that would happen when he left the house so he was not surprised by anything. Besides, if in the future he did this again, he would know I had kept my word that he would not be harmed, and negotiators could remind him of this.

  I told him to leave by the front door, unarmed, and to follow the instructions of the police dressed in black overalls. He knew I would be waiting near his front gate to meet him once Tactical police declared the situation safe. After this was made clear our telephone conversation ended.

  I held my breath. The crucial moment had arrived, the time when you always hope you have read the situation correctly.

  Dave came out of his front door and was met by the Tactical police. Thankfully no weapons were produced, and I could breathe again.

  Dave was a massive bear of a man, nearly two metres tall and almost a metre wide, sporting a full beard, long hair and covered in tattoos. While he was being searched I walked to his front gate. Just as I had promised, I met with him and shook his hand. We both knew he was about to be taken to the police station and charged with the assault on his girlfriend, but I also knew it had taken him a lot of soul searching to find the courage to surrender instead of taking his own life.

  A few months later while I was investigating a murder in the southern Sydney suburb of Kogarah I was called out to a siege situation that required a different approach. At a home unit in Carlton just south of Kogarah a thirty-seven-year-old man, Jack, had bashed his mother and was in his bathroom armed with a knife.

  I had met Jack before. In October 1995 I had been called out as a negotiator to this same home unit where Jack was threatening to kill himself. He had been under the influence of drugs and alcohol, which did not help. On that occasion negotiations had failed and heavily armed Tactical police had arrested Jack, who was extracted kicking and screaming. I felt that this new situation would be difficult, not only because of Jack’s nature but because of the circumstances surrounding his previous arrest.

  On arrival at the block of units I saw that the Tactical police were organising their equipment. With the rest of the negotiation team I had a briefing from the general duty police, who had arrived first. They told us that there had been an argument between Jack and his mother, who also lived in the two-bedroom unit. Jack had hit his mother over the head with a blunt object, causing a large gash to her head which started bleeding profusely. He then kicked her in the back. She had been able to drag herself across the lounge room floor and across the foyer to alert a neighbour before losing consciousness.

  The police found Jack sitting in the shower cubicle holding at thirty-centimetre carving knife and threatening to stab himself or the officers if they tried to arrest him. He had been drinking and appeared to be on some type of medication. A siege situation ensued and these police immediately called for the negotiators.

  Our information was that Jack disliked women, was extremely racist and hated various police at Kogarah police station. Unfortunately, I was one of the negotiators, the secondary negotiator, John, was a sergeant from Kogarah whom Jack detested with a passion, and our fourth was an Italian.

  It was decided that I would start negotiating with him face to face as soon as the Tactical police were in position. I put on a ballistic vest, as I would be very close to Jack. It was extremely dangerous, but there were not too many options and it would be helpful to see what Jack was doing.

  The two-bedroom unit was small. There was a lounge room with a small hallway running off it to a bedroom. At the entrance to the bedroom the hallway turned right for approximately two metres ending at the entrance to a small toilet cubicle. Just before that was a doorway leading into the bathroom where Jack was.

  I stood in the hallway outside the bathroom. There was very little room and the secondary negotiator, John, stationed himself in the toilet to my left, while the Tactical police positioned themselves opposite the bedroom doorway and around the corner to my right.

  The bathroom door was open and I was directly opposite Jack. He was sitting in the shower cubicle holding the carving knife in one hand and a silver bladder from a wine cask in the other. There were opened packets of some type of medication on the floor of the shower cubicle, the glass door of which was shut.

  It was less than one metre from the bathroom door to the shower cubicle. This was not going to be easy, I knew. Jack’s state, under the influence of alcohol and whatever pills he was taking, would not help in negotiations. He also knew he would be arrested for the assault on his mother. Due to the danger of the situation, including the small, tight space he had squirmed into with the knife, it would be very difficult to arrest him without someone getting injured. The only option was to try and negotiate him out of the bathroom without the knife.

  With this in mind I introduced myself to Jack. ‘Hello, Jack. My name is Belinda Neil and I am a police negotiator. I would like to talk to you about an incident here earlier today. Firstly, are you okay?’

  He replied, ‘Just leave me alone. Why can’t you all just leave me alone?’

  I could tell from his voice, manner and eyes that he was heavily under the influence of drugs or alcohol. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to recognise me from the previous incident. Now I had to negotiate with a drunk, never a good thing at the best of times.

  During our conversation Jack informed me of his above-average intellect. He said he had just completed a master’s degree in philosophy and studies in American criminology, amongst numerous other things. He had the superior air that can sometimes go hand in hand with high intelligence. I tried a number of different strategies, but nothing I said was getting through to him, and it was just making him more agitated.

  At one poin
t Jack asked, ‘Can I come out and sit on the lounge and talk?’ I told him yes, certainly, if he was prepared to leave the knife in the shower.

  He said, ‘I’m not leaving the knife here, those other cops told me it would be okay to bring it with me.’

  I repeated that he must leave the knife behind him. He insisted that he had been told differently. I said, ‘I will speak to those other police and see if there was a misunderstanding, but I would like you to promise me that you will not hurt yourself while I am gone.’ He agreed.

  That promise was important. Sometimes people in Jack’s position feel that no one cares for them and they are on their own. Soliciting a promise from someone goes a long way in developing trust and strengthening the bond between negotiator and subject. It can show the person that the negotiator really does have their best interests at heart and it can be the first time a person feels that someone is really listening to them. It is important for the negotiator to convey that they care about the welfare of the person. The negotiator is not there to judge; rather, to try and ensure a peaceful resolution to a high-risk or crisis incident. Such a promise might also make the subject think about their own welfare rather than wanting to commit suicide. This is especially the case where there are hostages, the promise can help someone think about something else rather than the dire situation they are in.

  The police denied telling Jack he could sit on the lounge with the knife and talk. This was a relief; we couldn’t break promises but this was not one we could have kept.

  After I had a short break to collect my thoughts, and a quick briefing with my team leader, I returned to the bathroom and told Jack what the police had said. He replied, ‘Well they are liars, they promised me and they even gave it in writing.’

  This was a surprise. ‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘Could you show me where they wrote it?’

  Jack showed me a yellow sticky note with the promise written on it, signed by one of the police officers I had just spoken to.

  That was certainly embarrassing for all involved and it meant another setback to negotiations. Needless to say I wasn’t impressed with that particular police officer. Police credibility had now lessened, any attempt to build up trust and rapport was going to be more difficult. My job was now to try and rebuild what I had just lost.

  Jack was rude, belligerent and aggressive. He kept repeating that he wanted police to kill him. ‘Just shoot me like you shot Levi.’ He was referring to an incident at Bondi a few months earlier when police had been confronted by Roni Levi, armed with a large kitchen knife, and had shot him dead.

  The strategy I adopted was to talk to Jack about other areas of interest, to divert his mind from thoughts of suicide. This was difficult when I could see him drinking from the wine bladder and knew that he was getting drunker and drunker.

  Every so often I felt a hand at my back, and John, my secondary negotiator, would pull me back slightly. I hadn’t realised it but as I was talking to Jack I was moving closer to him. This is quite common, and the primary negotiator needs to have faith that the secondary negotiator is keeping an eye out for them. Jack couldn’t see John, which was fortunate because he loathed him.

  Jack grew more agitated and began tapping the carving knife blade against the door of the shower cubicle. He kept demanding cigarettes. We had been there for a couple of hours and had already supplied him with some. We were also becoming concerned at the medication he had taken and the amount of wine he had consumed. We decided that the next time he asked for a cigarette, we would not give him one until he had placed the knife outside the cubicle.

  As primary negotiator I didn’t make the decision how to respond but passed the request up the line to my team leader. He in turn passed it to the duty officer or commander, who made the decision based on my advice, as well as advice from the Tactical commander. This process was carried out for every request Jack made, even down to something as simple as asking for a cigarette. It was my job to negotiate that message across.

  I had a very bad feeling that on this occasion the message was not going to be well received. Jack indeed became even more agitated, standing up and tapping the knife on the shower cubicle in my direction. He started making slicing movements across his neck with his thumb and threatening to stab and kill me.

  ‘Get me a cigarette now.’

  ‘Jack, put the knife outside the shower recess and I will get you a cigarette.’

  ‘Get me a fucking cigarette or I will kill you.’

  ‘Jack, I will not get a cigarette while you are holding the knife, so please put it outside the shower door.’

  ‘Fuck you, I want a cigarette.’

  ‘I’m happy to get you a cigarette, you just have to put the knife outside the shower.’

  ‘I’m going to kill you.’

  Jack continued to make threats towards me then he opened the door of the shower cubicle. Fortunately he remained where he stood and continued to wave the knife at me in a threatening manner yelling, ‘I’m gonna stab you; get me a cigarette!’

  At this stage he was just over a metre away, with nothing between him and myself but a large carving knife. The danger was reaching a critical point. In a calm voice I kept repeating that he should put the knife down.

  I could see out of the corner of my right eye that the Tactical team was getting ready for a potential assault. I continued telling Jack to put down the knife. I knew I was in extreme danger, but I also knew I needed to try and stay in position to keep him talking and occupied until I was certain the Tactical team were ready. Not long now, not long now, stay calm and just keep talking, I told myself.

  As Jack continued to yell and make stabbing motions like the killer in the shower scene of Psycho, everything zoned out for me except for my focus on him, the knife and staying calm. Then I felt Mick Coleman next to me on my right, and I knew they were ready. Mick was the pointman or lead Tactical officer, and as it was such a small hallway the others were lined up behind him and around the corner out of sight.

  Suddenly Jack lunged at me from the shower cubicle with the carving knife in his right hand raised above his shoulder. I froze. I couldn’t move. The knife was about thirty centimetres away from me when Mick pushed me out of the way at the same time John grabbed me and pulled me into the toilet recess. The Tactical boys rushed into the small bathroom and disarmed Jack, using tear gas, among other things. The can locked on and the gas, not having much room to spray out in the small bathroom, escaped into the hallway and toilet area. I felt its effects immediately, and my ears, nose and throat started to burn. I went straight outside into the fresh air.

  Jack was arrested and taken away to Kogarah police station where he was charged with the assault on his mother, Mick and myself, among other charges.

  Our negotiation team had a quick operational debrief then I drove the five minutes to Kogarah police station where I had been assisting detectives with Strike Force Apatin, a murder investigation. My Homicide work partner Angelo took one look at me when I arrived and said, ‘Are you all right?’ John had already arrived at the station and told my work partner that he had saved my life.

  My first reaction was confusion. I felt annoyed that John had said that, but I think I was still in shock. Bloody hell, it had been close. Too close. I was still coming to terms with exactly what had happened. I couldn’t understand why I hadn’t moved when Jack lunged at me. Had I been so focussed on Jack and the knife that I hadn’t had time to react? Had I just frozen as part of the ‘fight or flight’ response? I started to feel angry and frustrated as I couldn’t answer this question and felt that this affected my professionalism. I also felt guilty that I could have endangered Mick as he had to push me out of the way to get at Jack.

  A couple of days later I saw Mick when I went into the State Protection Group office to return the negotiation pager at the end of my on-call week. I asked if he was okay. He showed me his arms, bruised with scratches from the struggle in the bathroom. This did not help me, as I still felt confused b
y my actions.

  Sometime later my negotiation team leader recommended that I receive a Commissioner’s Commendation for Bravery ‘arising from her outstanding courage and dedication that she displayed in the execution of her duty under such adverse and dangerous conditions’. A Commissioner’s Citation was sought for the rest of the negotiation team and the Tactical team.

  This preyed on my mind and I spoke to the commander about it. Yes, I had spoken to Jack for a good few hours in ‘adverse and dangerous’ circumstances where the threat level had remained high; yes, I had remained in position until I knew the Tactical team was ready. But I didn’t feel it right or appropriate to accept any bravery award because I had frozen to the spot and still felt uncomfortable about this. I kept the original report so that it was never submitted; unfortunately this meant that the rest of the negotiation team and the Tactical team also missed out on recognition. My apologies particularly to Mick Coleman and John Hurley; thanks, guys.

  This situation would give me flashbacks about how close I had come to being very seriously injured. It also showed me how much I had come to rely on the Tactical team and having them close by as a safety measure. Years later this too would play on my mind. when I returned to work at a Local Area Command.

  CHAPTER

  13

  Psychopath

  During August and September 1997 I continued working with Strike Force Apatin based at Kogarah. This had been established after the murder of Anthony Malouf, apparently the victim of a home invasion gone wrong, on 20 January that year at Brighton Le Sands. I spent the first two weeks assisting local Kogarah detectives, then Homicide support was scaled down and I returned to other investigations. Later that year there was a potential breakthrough in the Malouf case and Homicide assistance was needed. With my Homicide colleague Detective Senior Constable Angelo Memmolo (known as Ange), I returned to work at Kogarah.