Under Siege

by Belinda Neil

  Offer had contacted them a few days before, saying he was coming to Sydney and wanted to have dinner with them to settle the boat the following Monday – only three days away. Mark told Offer exactly where they were moored.

  We now had a very serious situation. Offer was still missing, and he could be in Queensland or Sydney. What we did know was that he had a potential getaway plan that involved murdering Mark and Katherine. I did not mince words, telling Mark that Offer was wanted for murder and probably intended taking the boat to flee Australia. I also advised him, though not in these words, that he needed to up-anchor immediately and get the hell out of there, to find a suitable mooring then get off the boat and stay at a motel. I then rang the Sydney Water Police and advised them of the situation. They were fantastic and contacted Mark straight away. While I was satisfied that for the time being Mark and Katherine were safe, I would not feel fully at ease until Offer was located or I received confirmation that this couple were off their boat and in a discreet motel.

  The following day surveillance police located Offer heading towards Brisbane airport. He was arrested for the murder of Ronald Mills and extradited to Sydney. I called Mark to let him and Katherine know that Paul Offer had been arrested. They could finally relax, as did I, knowing they were safe. It was time for us to return to Sydney and continue gathering evidence against Offer.

  A few days later a Sydney man named Eric, said he was a friend of Offer’s who had worked with him in the security industry many years before, contacted us saying he had read the newspaper reports of Offer’s arrest. Eric told us that when they went drinking he and his friends used to laugh at Offer’s stories of being an IRA hitman. As a joke Eric had told him that he was a hitman himself. Eric wanted to talk to us.

  He told us that in early September 1997, after five or six years of no contact, Offer rang telling Eric he was in trouble and needed people ‘taken care of’. Eric, who had never taken Offer seriously, thought he would just go along with the joke. Offer had mailed to him the names and addresses of three men, and, though Eric had thrown the list away, he recalled an Allawah address (Ronald Mills) and a Drummoyne address (Mark Chapman). Eric also remembered Offer saying that the men were witnesses in a boat fraud.

  After this Offer called a number of times, offering him $10,000 for killing the three people on the list: Mills, Gerges and Chapman. Eric, who had no intention of doing anything of the kind, grew tired of Offer’s calls and began to make excuses as to why he hadn’t killed anyone. In mid September he met Offer, who told him again that he was in trouble and needed Eric’s help. On 8 October – five days before the boat fraud case was due to start – he met Offer again, and Offer said, ‘I’ve got one that I need fixed up desperately by the weekend.’ He gave Eric the name and address of Mark Gerges.

  As Eric was getting into Offer’s car he saw a pistol in a brown holster on the back seat. Eric took the pistol out of the holster, recognising it as a 9mm Luger. Offer told him the gun was his and put it on the floor of the car, covering it with a coat.

  Before Eric came to see the police, Paul Offer had telephoned him asking Eric to visit him in gaol and making veiled threat that Eric’s fingerprints were on the gun used to kill Ronald Mills. Eric agreed to assist police and wear a listening device whenever he visited Offer.

  Eric had four meetings with Paul Offer at Silverwater gaol and was wired up each time. We followed Eric to Silverwater and met him straight afterwards. Offer confirmed that he had asked Eric to kill three people, as well as the amount he was to pay. We confirmed that $8,000 had been withdrawn from Offer’s Visa account two days before Ronald Mills’s murder. The money was repaid on 29 September.

  Offer further incriminated himself during conversations with Eric, saying, ‘You kept putting me off so I took it into my own hands.’

  He admitted to Eric that the police had found his weapons: ‘They’ve got me, they’ve got me with the fucking guns, they’ve got me with the shotty in the car.’

  He told Eric that he and Sandra MacDonald were creating a false alibi to show that Offer was in Brisbane at the time of Mills’s murder and that he still needed, ‘at least two fuckers to stitch Mark [Gerges] up’. He also asked Eric to help Sandra MacDonald get rid of a package that was in storage in Sydney, telling Eric this package contained the objects used to shoot Nagwa Gerges. ‘The object that’s in the storage right, was used on his missus … she came to the door and she stepped in the way.’

  On the morning of 31 October we followed Eric and Sandra MacDonald to Kennards in Kirrawee where the package was stored. Sandra retrieved a box which she gave to Eric to ‘get rid of’. She told Eric that Offer had shot Nagwa Gerges by mistake. Sure enough the package contained a crossbow, seven bolts with metallic shafts and red and black vanes – the same type used to shoot Nagwa Gerges – and a black balaclava.

  Because Eric was playing such a dangerous role, we decided to bring in an undercover police officer. Eric introduced this officer to Paul Offer as someone who could help him, and the officer had a number of conversations with Offer and Sandra MacDonald about false alibis for Offer. Sandra MacDonald spoke with a number of people to arrange false alibis for Offer for the night of Ronald Mills’s shooting, even using a private investigator. She admitted to the undercover police officer that she knew Offer was in Sydney on the night that Ronald Mills was shot, and said Offer had told her he shot Nagwa Gerges and asked her to get rid of the crossbow. This contradicted what she said to me when I interviewed her in Queensland.

  On 18 December I went to the home where Sandra MacDonald was staying and told her she was under arrest. She did not comment, only speaking to organise a carer for her children. She was charged with being an accessory after the fact to the shooting of Nagwa Gerges, and intention to pervert the course of justice because of the false alibis she had organised. She pleaded guilty at the Supreme Court and was sentenced to two years’ gaol. She subsequently lost her children and refused all contact with Paul Offer.

  Offer was still trying relentlessly to find a way out of the mess he was in. When he found out about the assistance Eric had given police, he made over twenty false allegations implicating Eric in the shooting of Nagwa Gerges and Ronald Mills and in other murders, as well as lying about Mark Gerges, Ronald Mills and the detective sergeant in charge of the investigation. He even tried to involve other prisoners in setting up Eric, telling Police Internal Affairs that all the investigators were dealing in drugs, finding someone to burn down the Gerges family home, and even putting out a contract worth $20,000 to kill Eric and the police investigators.

  A great deal of incriminating evidence was found in his cell, including statutory declarations allegedly signed by Eric (his signature was later found to have been traced) admitting guilt for the murder and attempted murder. He also gave written descriptions of Eric and Mark Gerges for the benefit of whoever he was asking to do them harm. As a result he was charged with an additional three counts of soliciting to murder.

  This case had started out as a relatively small insurance fraud and had developed into murder, attempted murder, soliciting to murder and taking contracts out on witnesses and police. The lengths to which Paul Offer went in his scheming astounded us. He may yet find a prisoner who believes his lies and will take him up on one of the contracts.

  Offer had vehemently denied the charges against him. However, on the first day of his trial at the NSW Supreme Court he pleaded guilty to everything. On 29 June 2000 he was sentenced to thirty-four years in prison, with the earliest parole date 16 October 2022.

  Offer’s reign of terror had ended but his path of devastation remained. Families had lost a loved one. Nagwa Gerges never fully recovered from her physical injuries and she still suffers from major depression, insomnia, alternating mood swings and impairment to concentration. Others realised how close they had come to meeting their fate – Mark Chapman, the other witness Offer had earmarked for death, and Mark and Katherine, the owner of the boat and his wife, who had
a lucky escape.

  This case also highlights the potential danger to police officers, as we place ourselves at risk going to work every day. A police video made when Offer was first arrested driving the motorhome shows him talking to detectives while moving gradually towards the unlocked side compartment in which the assassin’s kit, including the loaded Luger pistol, was later found. If given the chance would Offer have grabbed the pistol and shot his way out? I am sure of it: he was a man willing to do anything to achieve his goals. Fortunately he did not get the chance.

  It is important to ensure our personal safety and the safety of our families, especially when dealing with some of the state’s most dangerous criminals. The detective sergeant in charge of the investigation never returned to work after being named in the contract to kill him. This had gone beyond work – it was now personal and his family had been in danger. For him it was one dangerous job too many.

  CHAPTER

  14

  Motherhood

  A few months before the murder of Ronald Mills, Rob and I had decided it was time to start a family. Rob had wanted children as soon as we were married, but I’d wanted to achieve some milestones in my career first. Now I wondered about the impact of becoming a mother. My work with Homicide involved lots of time away from home working long hours or being called to investigations anywhere in New South Wales. On top of that, I had my negotiator work, although that was only part-time.

  After being accepted into the Homicide Unit and becoming accredited as a counter-terrorist negotiator, I felt I had achieved two major goals. I was now twenty-nine years old and it was time to think about having children. I knew once I fell pregnant the kinds of work I did would need to be reconsidered. For example, I would no longer be interviewing suspects in case my protruding belly became a target.

  Rob was on shift and working plenty of overtime at the State Protection Group, Tactical Operations Unit, and I was at the Homicide Unit, with trips away around the country. We were rarely at home at the same time. After the initial trip to Queensland in pursuit of Paul Offer we finally had a weekend together which, very fortunately, resulted in my becoming pregnant. We decided not to inform anyone until I was at least twelve weeks along in case of miscarriage. I rarely suffered from morning sickness and when I did found that eating a few dry crackers helped.

  While I was still putting together the brief of evidence regarding Paul Offer and Sandra MacDonald (she had not yet been charged), a good friend of mine, BP (see Chapter 2) asked whether I would be involved in an undercover job involving a major cocaine-importing ring based in Canberra. I had worked with BP at the Undercover Unit back in 1989, and he was now one of the supervisors. The job would only require me to have a few meetings with the main drug importer and the informant, then fly to Tahiti with them and bring back cocaine. The informant, a stripper and exotic dancer, had been asked by the drug importer to be a mule and to find a friend to bring along for the free trip to Tahiti. That friend would now be me and I was bringing along my ‘boyfriend’. The whole job should be over within two weeks.

  Rob and I decided it would be okay, as I was only five weeks pregnant. My supervisors at the Homicide Unit had to agree as well, and after some negotiation they agreed on the grounds that the job would be short. So, at the end of November, after false passports and driver’s licence had been organised, I set off to Canberra with another full-time undercover operative – my ‘boyfriend’– and BP.

  As well as meeting with the Australian Federal Police officers who were running the job, I needed to meet the informant so we could work out our cover story. After consultation with my undercover supervisor we decided not to say I had worked with her as an exotic dancer in case the drug importer wanted a performance to authenticate my profession. We decided I would be a long-standing friend of hers, not a stripper.

  Unfortunately the informant had already told the drug dealer I was a stripper. If he wanted me to demonstrate, I was going to have to do some pretty fast talking. Not being particularly flexible, about the only convincing equipment I had were full breasts, courtesy of the first trimester of pregnancy, and long legs.

  I met the informant, a petite woman with a great body, and we worked out our cover story. Then with her and my alleged boyfriend I went off to meet the drug importer in suburban Canberra. I was a bit taken aback to discover that he was a big Islander lad, more than 1.8 metres tall and wide with it. Fortunately he accepted what we told him. We met twice more over the next two weeks and he gave various excuses why the flights to Tahiti hadn’t been booked. I was starting to wonder whether the job would come off at all but had little time to think about it, being busy with Homicide investigations.

  By Christmas nothing more had happened so I took a couple of weeks’ leave. On return to work I went to Canberra for further meetings with the importer. He introduced a friend who would be accompanying us. Wow. This man was another Islander about two metres tall and one and a half metres wide, and all of that was muscle, not an ounce of fat. I remember saying to the drug importer, ‘I’m glad he’s on our side.’ The plan had now changed; we were now to travel to Houston, Texas to pick up the drugs.

  By the end of January I spoke to BP and told him I was pregnant. I knew the trip would have to take place soon or I would be showing a nice pregnant belly, not exactly what was required in this situation. Then things went quiet with the importer and next we knew a shipload of drugs, which he was involved in, had been seized in Queensland. The job was off, the trip was off, and the importer was arrested for conspiracy to import drugs as a result of our investigation.

  The next time I saw him was when I had to give evidence at his initial trial in Canberra Supreme Court. I was heavily pregnant so I was on tenterhooks at the thought of seeing him. This area was open to the public. I was concerned, not only that he would see me but that if he was angry enough to rush at me there would be no stopping him because he was so big.

  I was also afraid he might organise for someone to dissuade me in a very violent way from giving evidence against him; I now had an unborn baby to protect. At least I walked in with BP and the Crown prosecutor so I was not on my own.

  On this occasion the importer sacked his defence so the trial was put off until later in the year and I could leave Canberra immediately. When the trial was finally held at the Supreme Court in Canberra, he was convicted and sentenced to ten years’ gaol for conspiring to import cocaine.

  In January 1998 I told the commander of the Homicide Unit I was pregnant and duly signed an alternative duties form, which meant I was not to interview any potential offenders. I could now catch up on finalising briefs of evidence and other paperwork connected to my investigations. Ange and I went to Queensland to gather statements for the Paul Offer and Sandra MacDonald briefs; I travelled to Goulburn to role-play on the negotiators’ course and a drug trial involving 496 ecstasy tablets came up. On that one I got a conviction. Score one for the good guys.

  I was due to give birth in July so I took some time off to try and relax beforehand. Nobody tells you about sleeplessness before the baby is born, or that you are up a few times at night going to the toilet. Perfect preparation for night-time feeds, though.

  My baby was due on 19 July and my obstetrician decided to induce him due to his size. Approximately sixteen hours later Jake was coaxed out with forceps.

  The obstetrician placed my beautiful son on my chest. It was an amazing moment; this tiny little creature was my son. His little face was screwed up and screaming, perhaps from a headache as a result of the forceps. All my tiredness and pain from the birth dissolved when I looked at him and I was left with an overwhelming feeling of protectiveness for him.

  Then he was taken from me! The obstetrician told me he was going to send Jake for a check-up in the special care nursery because of breathing difficulties. As the midwife took Jake out of the room I had an overpowering feeling that I might never see him again.

  I felt trapped, I couldn’t get off the bed so I l
ooked at Rob and said, ‘Follow that baby.’

  Rob hesitated and said he wanted to stay with me. I looked straight at him and repeated urgently: ‘Follow that baby.’ I think Rob must have picked up on my feelings as he left immediately. I was so concerned that Jake might be kidnapped that until I knew all the proper identification procedures had taken place and I was satisfied he was not in any danger, I didn’t want him out of our sight.

  My work experiences and associated fears were infiltrating my most precious moments, moments that should have been filled with happiness and joy. The panic and anxiety I was feeling – the fear that my baby might have been stolen from me – might possibly be considered normal for first-time mothers. However, the intensity and severity of these feelings shocked me. I didn’t realise at the time that I needed help; these panic states, this fear being completely out of character for me, can most likely be interpreted as the early signs of hyperarousal, the initial stages of post-traumatic stress disorder.

  I spent the next four nights with Jake next to my bed; I was determined not to let him out of my sight. By the fifth night the nurse came to take him to the respite nursery as I was not getting any sleep, so fearful was I that someone would come in and take him. I eventually gave in and slept until the nurse came and woke me to feed him. I finally relaxed when I got to take him home.

  It was staggering how protective I felt about this little being in my life. This almost overtook all other feelings and it diminished the resources I had. I spent so much time worrying about the awful things that might happen to him that I had little time for the pleasure of watching him grow, watching him smile; getting excited when he smiled after five or six weeks and knowing it was because he was pleased to see me and not because of wind pain; watching the delight he took in exploring his surroundings, feeling and touching things. I had lost the ability to enjoy these moments.