Milat

by Clive Small, Tom Gilling

  Search teams continued to comb Ivan’s house at Eagle Vale, Alex’s former property at Buxton and the Wombeyan Caves Road property owned by Richard and Walter Milat. The media were still clamouring for information and comment, but the fact that Ivan was now before the courts had imposed certain legal restrictions on what both the police and the media could say. We had no intention of allowing Ivan’s legal team an opening to argue that Ivan couldn’t get a fair trial.

  It was eight days before all three searches were finished. Altogether, we now had around 800 potential exhibits, almost all of which would need forensic examination and/or further investigation to establish beyond doubt what they were and to whom they had belonged. Some of these investigations would need to be conducted overseas—for example, with the family and friends of the victims, or the manufacturers of clothing and backpacking equipment. Thousands of cartridge cases and bullets recovered at the Buxton and Wombeyan sites required forensic analysis. Looming in the background was the question of whether Ivan had acted alone or whether other members of the family might have been involved; property believed to be linked to some of the murders had been found in the homes of various family members. Every item would need to be explained, although our suspicion was that all of it ‘belonged’ to Ivan or had been given by him to other family members. But despite the amount of evidence we had, it was all circumstantial and Ivan had not admitted to any crime.

  By the weekend we were satisfied that we had enough evidence to justify charging Ivan with the backpacker murders. Knowing that the more time we had, the stronger our case would be, we decided to seek a further adjournment on the attempted abduction of Paul Onions before charging Ivan with the backpacker murders.

  My confidence that we had everything under control was shattered when I picked up the The Sun-Herald on Sunday morning and saw an ‘exclusive’ by Martin Warneminde under the headline, ‘Police breakthrough in Belanglo case’. Warneminde’s story began, ‘A lone investigation by a young detective has led police to believe the Belanglo Forest backpacker murders could be linked to a rape case more than 20 years ago . . . Sources close to the 38-strong Task Force Air which is seeking the serial killer said yesterday that credit for what could be a major breakthrough belonged to Detective Senior Constable Paul Gordon. He pursued a theory that Liverpool, the exit point from the city for hitchhikers heading south, could be the key to the Belanglo slayings mystery.’

  According to Warneminde’s story, Gordon had checked police files for reports of crimes involving hitchhikers who were picked up at Liverpool and found that, ‘while no one was convicted, a man the two girls accused of rape could be connected with the backpacker murders’. An unnamed member of the task force was quoted as saying that ‘he and many others considered it “clever lateral thinking by one of the actual guys [Gordon] at ground level” ’. The task force member was reported to have said:

  What Paul Gordon has come up with is not the obvious. There is a lot of evidence and everybody has worked very hard to get it all together . . . But he thought we might be barking up the wrong tree . . . He decided that the total link in all this was just people who wanted to hitchhike. It was nothing to do with foreigners, it was nothing to do with backpackers, it was nothing to do with hostels. It was to do with how do you get out of Sydney when you hitchhike. He went off and checked his theory and sure enough some pieces have come together.

  Gordon was said to have described his discovery of the possible link as being ‘just lucky’.

  Ivan was not named in Warneminde’s article, but it was obvious to anyone who read the newspapers or had heard the news on radio or television that Ivan was the suspect being referred to.

  I was furious and immediately rang Rod Lynch, who had just finished reading the story. We agreed that the article posed a significant risk to the investigation and would cause us problems in court the next day, its account of Gordon’s role was both completely untrue and a betrayal of the team effort behind the arrest, and it contravened my explicit instructions about not talking to the media. After all our efforts to convince the media that everyone would be treated equally and no one would get the jump on their rivals, Warneminde’s story risked starting a ‘free-for-all’ scramble for scoops.

  After talking to Rod, I rang the Police Media Unit and asked them to prepare and distribute a media release stating that the story was inaccurate and potentially prejudicial. At the same time, we were realistic enough to know that it was too late to kill off the story. The damage had already been done.

  Next I called Gordon and asked whether he had seen the story. He was evasive, seemingly unable to decide whether to admit to having seen it or not. When I asked when he learnt of the story, he denied knowing anything about it until he saw it in the paper. I asked whether he had spoken with Martin Warneminde or any other journalist about the story and again he was evasive, finally admitting that Warneminde had rung him, but claiming not to know how Warneminde had obtained his phone number. Later he claimed that Warneminde had the full story before speaking to him, and all he had told the journalist was that he had previously worked as a detective at Annandale. Gordon told me he thought the story was an accurate account of what had happened and he couldn’t see anything wrong with it. He admitted disobeying my clear instructions not to have unauthorised contact with the media, and also admitted having made no attempt to inform me or any other senior officer on the task force about the story. I told Gordon I would speak with him the next day and reiterated that he was not to speak to the media.

  Warneminde’s story had put us in an awkward position. We now had no choice but to prefer the backpacker murder charges against Ivan on his next court appearance.

  The tension at Campbelltown Police Station on Monday morning was palpable. Task force members were not sure whether to say anything about the Sun-Herald article or not, but they didn’t have to wonder for long. When I spoke to Gordon he admitted that he had been less than forthcoming during our conversation the previous day, although he again insisted he could see nothing wrong with Warneminde’s story. After initially denying that there were any inaccuracies in the story, he then claimed he had been ‘set up’ (he did not say how). He either did not understand, or would not admit to understanding, the potential legal problems created by the story.

  This was not the first time Gordon had potentially harmed the investigation by his indiscretions and lack of professionalism. It was his careless inquiries at the RTA that had alerted Ivan to our interest in him. In addition, he had made basic errors in his research into the criminal histories of Ivan and his brothers, failing to look beyond the computerised records. I seriously regretted my decision not to get rid of him earlier. I couldn’t risk any further setbacks.

  I called a meeting of task force members and explained that as a result of the Sun-Herald article and the potential damage it had done to the investigation, I was removing Gordon from the task force. It is fair to say that most of the staff was shocked, but none expressed support for his actions. Several openly ridiculed the story’s claims and Gordon’s endorsement of them.

  As we had predicted, Ivan’s lawyer, John Marsden, arrived at Campbelltown Court the following morning determined to make the most of Warneminde’s story. ‘Clive,’ he told me, ‘you’ve got a serious problem. Releasing that story was stupid. My client can’t get a fair go now and we will be having a fair bit to say in the court this morning. It won’t be pleasant and we will be looking at getting the matter dismissed. Any further charges now will only make it worse for you. I can’t believe you did it.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ I said. ‘The first I knew of it was when I read it in the paper. I’m as angry as you are.’

  Marsden looked at me incredulously.

  ‘Listen, John,’ I said, ‘the story about Paul Gordon isn’t true and Gordon has already been sacked from the task force. We have strict rules about talking to the media and he broke them. As soon as I saw the story I contacted Police Media to try and have the story ki
lled.’

  Marsden knew me well enough to know I was telling the truth. But, as Ivan’s lawyer, his job was to do anything he could to weaken the case against his client.

  ‘Ivan will be charged with the backpacker murders in court this morning,’ I said.

  ‘He won’t talk to you,’ Marsden replied.

  I shrugged. Ivan had told us nothing so far, so we weren’t expecting him to start talking once we had charged him with the murders. None of us had any illusions about getting a confession.

  The Crown was going to be represented at the hearing by the New South Wales senior Crown prosecutor, Ian Lloyd QC. It was rare to have a QC involved at such an early stage in the proceedings, but nothing about the backpacker case was ordinary.

  Later that morning Marsden appeared in Campbelltown Court with his client. Ivan was under tight security as the Crown prosecutor read out the seven murder charges, disclosing publicly for the first time details of the violence of the crimes: the stabbings and shootings and the decapitation of Anja Habschied, whose head had not been found. ‘An animal could not have carried it away,’ Lloyd told the magistrate, Kevin Flack. Lloyd linked property seized during the raids a week earlier to the murdered backpackers and to Onions. The evidence was all circumstantial, but it made a strong case.

  Marsden replied by stating that his client denied all the charges, emphasising that the charges consisted not of direct proof but of ‘circumstantial innuendos and allegations’.

  Marsden also raised the difficulty of Ivan getting a fair trial, particularly in light of the Sun-Herald article. To my surprise, however, he made no criticism of the task force. My decision to remove Gordon had convinced him that Gordon’s behaviour was unauthorised and he directed his attack instead towards The Sun-Herald and the media generally.

  While Lloyd described the violence of the murders, and again when Marsden attacked the media, I noticed a flicker of a smile on Ivan’s face. Was he enjoying the attention, or the chance to relive the crimes? Or had he glimpsed in Marsden’s robust defence the chance of escaping justice? I was left wondering as Kevin Flack adjourned the case for a month and Ivan was returned to the police cells, bail denied.

  The hearing had lasted no more than half an hour, but Marsden was not finished. After leaving the court he spoke to the media and the public gathered outside. ‘[M]y client,’ Marsden said, ‘denies the serious allegations that have been made against him in court today . . . The outrageous allegations made in Sunday’s media have already raised questions as to whether my client can receive a fair and just trial in the present climate.’

  Within a day of the court adjournment I began receiving phone calls from journalists asking whether I thought Marsden had a conflict of interest. One suggested that Marsden, in his role on the Police Board, had been critical of me when I went before the board for promotion; another claimed that Police Headquarters wanted him to resign from the board. I knew some police were genuinely uncomfortable with Marsden representing Ivan, but my own feeling was that Marsden was entirely capable of fulfilling both roles. Marsden himself told the media, ‘I don’t see this is any different to any other case being handled by my office.’ The government supported Marsden’s position.

  During the backpacker investigation I had been promoted from superintendent to chief superintendent. After Ivan’s arrest, Police Headquarters was keen for me to take up my new position. I left the task force on 10 June 1994, and Detective Inspector Rod Lynch, who was promoted to acting detective superintendent, took over the same day.

  More than 500 exhibits required examination by external agencies. The sheer number of exhibits made it impractical for every item to be taken overseas to be identified. Instead, detectives travelled to Germany and the United Kingdom with folders of photographs, which they showed to the victims’ families as well as to manufacturers and distributors. In some cases property was formally identified when the witness came to Sydney to give evidence at the committal proceedings.

  DNA profiling of various exhibits, including blood, hair and saliva, was conducted by forensic laboratories in South Australia and at Glebe and Lidcombe laboratories in Sydney. Selected items were also escorted to the Birmingham and Wetherby Laboratories of the Forensic Science Service, Home Office, United Kingdom, for further DNA examination. Among these exhibits were six lengths of sash cord and a pillowcase. DNA profiling disclosed that the blood on one length of cord and the pillowcase was 118,000 times more likely to come from a child of Caroline Clarke’s parents than of any other parents taken at random from the population. The Forensic Science Service also re-tested hair found in Joanne’s right hand that the Institute of Forensic Medicine in Glebe had concluded belonged to a man. The new DNA tests showed that the hair was consistent with being Joanne’s. (This result was corroborated by subsequent profiling by the Institute of Forensic Medicine.)

  In Sydney, Gerard Dutton, the ballistics expert whose role in the backpacker murder investigation began in September 1992 with the discovery of ten fired .22 calibre cartridge cases near the body of Caroline Clarke, was now carrying out detailed forensic examination of every weapon and piece of ammunition recovered. Dutton made his first breakthrough while searchers were still going through Ivan’s house, confirming through a series of test firings that the breech bolt found in the wall cavity at Ivan’s house was from the Ruger rifle that had been used to kill Caroline. He was 99 per cent sure the fired cartridge case found in Ivan’s bedroom had also been fired from the same gun. Although none of the cartridge cases found near the body of Gabor Neugebauer could be conclusively matched to the breech bolt, some could be linked to cartridges used in Caroline’s murder.

  Eventually, Dutton found that of the thousands of .22 calibre fired cartridge cases and spent .22 calibre bullets found at the Buxton firing range, about 1500 cartridge cases and 500 bullets had been fired by a Ruger 10/22. After four of the .22 calibre cartridge cases were identified as having been fired by the Ruger rifle used to kill Caroline, we decided we had enough evidence and examination of the Buxton ammunition stopped. Dutton’s analysis of the Eley cartridge cases found at the Neugebauer murder scene showed they had been fired from the Anschutz .22 calibre rifle owned by Ivan and found at Walter’s house.

  Significantly, having examined all the weapons found at various Milat properties, Dutton was able to link only two of them—Ivan’s .22 Ruger 10/22 and Ivan’s .22 Anschutz—with the backpacker killings.

  Ivan’s next court appearance was at Campbelltown on 28 June. Marsden had so far defied calls for him to stand down as Ivan’s lawyer. But when he handed Ivan a piece of paper in the dock, Ivan threw it back at him, saying, ‘Just get away.’ Marsden returned to his seat for a few moments, then stood and addressed the magistrate, Mr Flack: ‘I no longer appear for Mr Milat. I have been told he does not want me to represent him. He has chosen to represent himself.’

  When an additional firearms charge was preferred against Ivan, Mr Flack asked whether Ivan wanted Marsden to act for him for the day’s proceedings. ‘I don’t want him,’ Ivan replied. ‘Not today, I’ll look after myself.’

  Rejecting the offer of access to Legal Aid or a solicitor, Ivan addressed the court: ‘I have been in gaol for six weeks. I have not seen a police brief of evidence or anything . . . I’m innocent.’ A few minutes later he made a similar claim, ‘I’m stuck in gaol and they [the police] don’t have one iota of proof . . . they’re making them up as they go along.’

  The court had previously heard detailed allegations against Ivan and an outline of the evidence that would be presented by the prosecution, but in reply to Ivan’s protests the prosecutor, Mr Lloyd QC, added a critical piece of evidence. A water bottle found at Ivan’s house had been examined using infra-red photographic equipment. It disclosed the name ‘Simi’—the nickname of the murdered backpacker Simone Schmidl—on the bottle. Someone had attempted to scratch off the name.

  It would be three months before the police would be in a position to proceed with the
charges, Lloyd told the court. The matter was adjourned for a week for Ivan to obtain legal advice. Bail was refused. As he was led from the court, Ivan shouted to Lloyd, ‘I think you’re framing me up.’

  The realisation that he was in trouble and could be spending a long time in gaol seemed finally to be dawning on him.

  In the months leading up to Ivan’s committal hearings, Richard and Walter Milat appeared before the courts to answer charges arising from the police raids in May. Walter faced ten charges of possessing firearms, and cultivating and supplying cannabis. He pleaded guilty to eight charges and was fined a total of $2700, with four three-year good behaviour bonds. Richard faced five charges and pleaded guilty to two firearms charges, one charge of possessing cannabis and one charge of possessing a driver’s licence in a false name (Paul T. Miller). He was fined a total of $500, with one three-year good behaviour bond. The firearms listed in the charges included SKS and SKK assault rifles, self-loading rifles, shotguns and a revolver.

  Our problems with the media had not ended with the Warneminde story. The week after Ivan was charged with seven murders, a large picture of him appeared on the cover of Who Weekly, beneath a cover line that read: ‘Backpacker serial killings: The accused.’ Inside was a five-page story about the killings and the Milat family, and a smaller version of the same picture.

  The then New South Wales attorney-general, Mr Hannaford, immediately charged Who Weekly’s publisher, Time Inc., with contempt of court and won an injunction in the Supreme Court preventing the sale of any further copies of the 13 June 1994 edition unless the two photographs of Ivan were obscured with irremovable stickers. Around 110,000 copies of the magazine had been distributed, and about half were estimated to have been already sold. Stickers were sent out and applied to the unsold copies, but the supposedly ‘irremovable’ stickers were found to be removable after all. New stickers were hurriedly issued.