Stalked

by Chris Smith

  And that’s about it! No more lies; no more admissions. Now it’s time for some facts. The charges I’ve been faced with since meeting Libby Masters in August last year are: assault in December and stalking between January and June. On advice from my solicitor, Mr Trevor Nyman—who commands $3000 a day for his services (so far my father has paid in excess of $20,000 in barrister’s fees since January), I have pleaded guilty on all charges. Why? Technically, by the law and Libby’s and other’s testimonies and statements, I did assault Libby. We had a horrific argument on my birthday which resulted in me tearing her dress and grabbing and dragging her up her street.

  There is a lot of irony in this Louise. She used to punch, kick, slap and choke me constantly in our six-month relationship—which was the most hostile, dysfunctional and scary relationship I’ve ever had.

  Very similar in nature to the two-year relationship I had with Simone Crowe, which ended in 1988. It’s difficult to remember a lot about that. Perhaps another time. But I’ve had plenty of relationships between Simone and Libby without a complaint. I can’t really explain why but I suppose there is a certain kind of personality that clashes with mine in a violent, aggravating way. I’ve had the unfortunate experience of being in a two-way addiction with such a ‘personality’ twice in my lifetime. Believe me; I’ll be able to see the warning signs if such a person enters my environment again and pull out quickly—before it becomes all-consuming and hurtful to both sides.

  I’ll admit to you, Louise, that when both relationships finally ended I did behave somewhat irrationally. I’ve sent flowers, letters and appeared unexpectedly where I knew they would be. I found it hard to fall out of love (or addiction) as quickly as they did. Probably if they were honest they would say that they were just as bizarre in their behaviour during and after the break up—but that’s another irony I have to live with.

  But let me tell you some more facts. I have never threatened to kill either one, or their relatives—contrary to Simone’s statement. I never threatened to commit suicide, also contrary to Simone’s statement. I have never tampered with Libby’s telephone line. The calls she made to me and their durations and content are all documented by Telstra for anyone to peruse. I have never donned a balaclava and jumped over Libby’s fence into her backyard. Her statement claims that I have done so every night since January.

  Before I go on—let me tell you a few things about Libby. About two months into our relationship—she found out during the course of one of our arguments that I had also been seeing Frances Mallard at the same time. She gave me a not-unreasonable ultimatum—to get rid of Frances. It just amazed me, Louise, just how history repeats. Ashley Merton gave me a similar ultimatum about you. I started to see a girl named Shelly and so started the decline of my and Simone’s relationship eight years ago. How does this happen? After a lot of soul searching and personal examination of myself over the past three weeks, I can only answer that in a spiritual way. I believe God is telling me to clean up my act, to seek love and not lust, to trust and be trusted. These lessons I’ll put into practice when I get out.

  So what, you may ask? Libby may have seemed cool and together on A Current Affair, but I’ve had many friends who can vouch for wild changes in her persona. I give it to you also as an explanation for her vindictiveness towards me—combined with my unfaithfulness.

  Louise, please don’t think that I was habitually unfaithful in my ‘previous life’ before coming here. The fact is that Libby was also unfaithful. Twice we were both addicted to each other and both hoped that would turn into love—but also we were both looking for a way out—and being unfaithful was our way of doing that.

  Simone was a similar story. I realise you may be looking for an explanation regarding you and Ashley—I can only say that Ashley seduced me at Frances’ party and I fell for it. It was all happening so quickly, and believe it or not, my decision was to keep seeing you. Sure, it’s true that Ashley had decided to dump me anyway after Friday, because I was expected at her place for dinner when I was with you. And it’s true that I delivered flowers and probably scared her with my persistence but basically my pride was hurt and I was selfishly trying to repair that, as well as deal with the deja vu of it all.

  God, I probably sound like a real male slut and ultimately chauvinistic—and I can see that now as well; but I have changed, Louise. Three weeks in the slammer will do that.

  But there were other catalysts. As I said, the charge of stalking has been around since January. It was originally between two days. They see that I’ve been charged with assaulting Libby previously and as a result of my flower and letter sending and turning up on her doorstep—they slap on a stalking charge as well.

  The hearing was part heard when all this started to happen—and looking very good for a ‘not guilty’ verdict. It was due for completion in August. The charge has since been amended by the prosecution to incorporate a six-month period from January to June. I’ll talk about their evidence later.

  A roving reporter who probably scans the local court proceedings regularly for The Sun Herald wrote a full-page article for that paper in early June. It outlined the ‘horrors of stalking’ in general—and used a lot of the details that were relevant to my case. This was the first examination of Libby’s claims that somebody else made those 21 telephone calls, from her place to mine, via a tampered with telephone line. This story was concocted by her electrician, although Libby cleverly avoided this fact on A Current Affair.

  This newspaper article used false names, but it was obvious that they had interviewed Libby—because there was evidence that was not allowed in court. (The telephone tampering theory was one—there were no fingerprints on the device!) Enter A Current Affair and one private investigator.

  This private investigator first came to my attention when he repossessed my car in May. I think I told you of that incident. He was hired by Esanda—the company that I had my car loan through—to repossess my car because I had fallen behind by about a month, over an eighteen-month period. As per the contract I signed they were entitled to repossess. He did so under a barrage of insults and abuse from me at the time. This intrepid investigator, we assume, then looked at my criminal record, and saw that I was in the middle of a stalking hearing and an assault charge conviction against the one girl. Good stuff. He then offers his services to Libby.

  We’ve seen his report—and for about a month this guy follows me around—and sees no evidence of me stalking anyone. He sees me going about my normal working and social life. Enter A Current Affair and the moralistic reporters that go with it. No payment has been forwarded to the investigator yet—because he hasn’t seen anything worth reporting.

  A Current Affair takes over the services of the investigator—they all put their heads together—and all of a sudden things start to happen in Libby’s backyard. I will go so far as to say, Louise, that the entire video footage was acted out. There are other possibilities, but I’m sure that’s what has happened. Libby called me that week at work and spoke six words and a lot of blubbering. ‘I can’t leave this alone now.’ Click.

  The video is then submitted to the police. The police need stronger evidence, the investigator knows this and so plants a balaclava, torches and gloves in my bedroom chest of drawers at home—on the morning of 2 July when he knows I’m at work and he knows the police will search my home later that day. He gets his fees, A Current Affair gets their ratings, and the police get a conviction with watertight evidence.

  On top of this are numerous complaints from Libby that I had stalked her throughout the year, but which weren’t acted on by the police.

  Three events actually: the first occurred at the Oaks Hotel in Neutral Bay in February; the second occurred at the Metropole; and the third occurred at the Basement—I believe from memory in March and April consecutively.

  The Oaks and Metropole incidents basically consisted of me coincidently running into Libby and attempting to rationalise with her. Keep in mind that both venues were
places that she knew I frequented regularly—they were just up the road from where I lived, whereas she lived at Manly—a good 20 minutes’ drive away.

  The Basement incident was a similar scenario but with one notable difference. She called me the night before and enquired where I would be. I replied the Basement, and she duly turned up there! That night ended disastrously with another argument and the police being notified again by one of the bouncers.

  I guess you’re getting the picture of the prosecutor’s case. Their investigations revealed nothing. They followed me one night in my car—A Current Affair filmed me driving from my parents’ home to my home—but none of them saw me anywhere near Libby or her home. (Otherwise why not arrest me there and then?) The only one who says he saw me was the private investigator—who I’ve already stated is moral enough to plant a balaclava, torches and gloves in my home.

  I’ve managed to explain it to you here (I hope!) in a few pages, but my case would take more than a week in a District Court to be heard. The police would call all witnesses who have given statements (including you!), and I would probably leave a ‘reasonable doubt’ in the magistrate’s mind after the testimonies—and theories that I had stalked Libby. But I have no proof—and my alibis for where I was at the time wouldn’t stand up. The prosecution, however, have one stark piece of evidence—the balaclava. If a magistrate found me guilty after a plea of ‘not guilty’, the penalty would be more severe than if my plea originated as guilty. And so my plea—guilty as charged!

  And so A Current Affair reveals true identities and a dramatic ‘confession’. Also the cost, Louise; we would be looking at a legal bill of $3000 a day for more than a week! For possibly no result!

  So what now: the hearing is set for 15 August. My plea is guilty. The judge has three options. The best one is to release me straight away saying that six weeks that I’ve spent in jail is enough—go on your way! Or he may impose an additional sentence—community service or weekend detention or if worse comes to worse—more time in jail. (God help me!) That’s the gamble we’re taking.

  What are we doing to help my cause? Well, I’m going through a probation procedure here over the next three weeks. I’ll be examined by psychiatrists and psychologists and probationary people, to determine whether I’m over Libby, and whether I’m suitable for other types of sentencing apart from full-time jail. I’m sure their reports will be positive ones!

  Also, I’m gathering together all my friends and family—and, believe me, they are all being extremely supportive—to produce affidavits, references, etc. All of this, and many of them in person, will be present before the magistrate on 15 August. I’ll be there, in handcuffs, hoping to God I’m let go. Finally then I can put it all behind me. I’ll be moving into my parent’s home, changing jobs and taking along any friends who care to come along. I’d like you to be one of those friends, Louise.

  I don’t know when you will get this letter, Louise; the mail system here is really unpredictable. I have many more things I could tell you about life in here. Could you come and visit me? Be prepared for tight security and me being in a ‘smuggle-proof’ overall outfit, but I would love to see you.

  So far every day I’ve been blessed with visits from family and friends. (Jason came today.) If you decide you would like to, please call the jail and speak to welfare. I’m only allowed one visit per day, and only one on weekends. You can also pass on any messages to me through welfare. I’m not sure of the number actually, but my details are: Phillip William Hopkins, 13 Wing.

  Otherwise I’ll assume you don’t want to resume anything—or that you haven’t received the letter. I have a feeling they do read and censor outgoing mail here. So I hope you’ll forgive me if I call you when I get out and find out how you feel.

  Hope you are keeping well, Louise.

  Phillip xx

  Louise didn’t reply. Soon afterwards she received a phone call from Phillip, still in prison. She made it clear that she didn’t want anything more to do with him. Nothing really scared her about Hopkins. She hadn’t been trapped in his sticky predatory web, but she knew his uncanny powers of persuasion were dangerous and were capable of drawing her in, like the others she’d heard about. She couldn’t trust herself and, considering what Hopkins was capable of, she did not make contact with him again.

  17

  RAISING THE GAVEL

  The pre-sentence report prepared by a probation officer at Dee Why was a mixed blessing for Hopkins. The officer wrote that after six weeks inside, Hopkins’ ‘imprisonment has had a significant effect upon the offender’. As Hopkins negotiated the fierce culture of jail life, he ‘expressed feelings of terror and intimidation’. He was recorded as saying, ‘It is the worst experience of my life.’

  Records showed that Hopkins was getting on ‘reasonably well with prison officers and keeps away from any of the daily violence that ensued inside’. He spent several sessions with his probation officer, recording his inner feelings about Libby, relationships and his own inadequacies. ‘I have some difficulties with relationships,’ he admitted. ‘I become addicted to women very quickly after forming an association.’

  Hopkins would still not concede, however, that his behaviour in the first half of 1996 was his fault. He was ‘victimised’ and ‘only pleaded guilty on legal advice’. Later, as the harsh reality of jail and the sobering realisation of his plight had begun to sink in, he retracted his statements of innocence. He accepted full responsibility for all his ‘stupid and impulsive actions’.

  On further examination he admitted to finding it ‘difficult to accept guilt’. His probation officer concluded his assessment by stating: ‘He is superficially well-mannered, with a problematic behaviour pattern.’

  For reasons known only to Hopkins, he rekindled his Catholic faith inside prison and this change in direction was part of a report compiled by the prison chaplain. Hopkins had become close to a nun who’d made regular visits to selected prisoners and she reported that he had ‘verbalised his regrets for his actions’ repeatedly. Both members of the clergy were convinced that Phillip had a ‘strong faith in God and wanted to make a fresh start’, findings that Phillip’s lawyers made sure were signed and highlighted in the hearings ahead.

  The forensic psychiatrist who dealt with his case tackled the question of why he used a balaclava to frighten his victims in the middle of the night. This was integral to understanding Hopkins’ treatment and disrespect for women. ‘I asked him why, and he said he wanted to approach Libby to convince her to drop the charges,’ the psychiatrist reported. ‘He said he had his face disguised because he did not wish to be recognised by anybody else.’

  Hopkins went further: ‘I can tell you the motivation behind it all. Contrary to the assumption everybody is making, I have no intention of causing anyone any harm. I was attention-seeking and I wanted the attention of Libby. She was probably frightened; women are generally frightened because men are stronger and more aggressive. Women like this are very vulnerable.’

  The psychiatrist concluded that Hopkins indeed had an obsession with Libby Masters. He clearly had a history of confronting relationship breakdowns with ‘emotions equivalent to despair and devastation’. It was also written that he, ‘handled rejection with anger, but was always able to differentiate between right and wrong’.

  Hopkins expressed his inner feelings with a great deal of emotion throughout the process of assessment. It may have had some bearing on the final recommendation, ‘that he should be released’. He could then access psychiatric treatment and it was somehow concluded that he ‘would not pose a risk’ to Libby.

  The relationship, he told his handlers, was now over and he no longer felt animosity towards her. The psychiatrist’s report was presented to Magistrate Moore, providing him with compelling reasons to view Hopkins in a new light.

  Sentencing day arrived—15 August 1996. Libby was not present at Manly Court. She was wrung out from all the pressure and tension. The recent publicity had encouraged
acquaintances to dredge up the drama over and over again when they met. They presumed their empathy was what she needed, but Libby just wanted to try and move on. She’d had enough. Despite all the positive predictions from the people around her, including we media, she somehow had a gut feeling that she’d be let down again. She felt she needed to brace herself against the realities of the NSW legal system. She didn’t want to care; but she did, far too much. The pending decision would determine the life she would now lead.

  Peattie too had endured an entire career being let down by sympathetic judges. He knew that a year behind bars was the best they could hope for.

  The hearing began with the presentation of various reports submitted to the bench which were then read out, including a sworn affidavit from Malcolm Hopkins with a very explosive attachment. This was to be his attempt to highlight Libby’s alleged spell on his son and explain his stress and chronic anxiety. It was an eleventh hour attempt to swing Alan Moore back in favour of Phillip Hopkins.

  Peattie had known something like this would be coming. ‘Here it is,’ he whispered.

  After a small debate about its admissibility, which the local prosecutor lost, the letter was submitted to the court. It was a letter, allegedly from Libby, apologising to Phillip for ‘past mistakes’, and reiterating her vow of ‘everlasting love’!

  The letter, allegedly written in October the previous year, was a scrawled three-page note. In part, it read:

  Dear Philly,

  You forgot your Chokito so I decided to send it over. I don’t know why we argue, but I feel it has to do with the following things: constant tiredness, lack of exercise and seeing too much of each other. This is a hard one because, like you, I am kind of addicted to you too! … I have slowed down on seeing my friends because I want to have your trust in me that I love you and haven’t got time for any male but you.