by Robin Bowles
A former boyfriend of Krissy Hampel’s, Andrew Chiodo, was alerted to the story by his solicitor. Andrew had recently split with Krissy after a two-year relationship, and his lawyer had become involved because Andrew claimed Krissy ‘had cost him a million dollars and had just about ruined him’.
Andrew contacted Nick McKenzie to spill the beans on the relationship, which ran from July 2010 to March 2012. He said it was ‘highly volatile and tempestuous’. Himself a non-user of drugs, he got sick of supporting her lifestyle, sometimes to the tune of paying off $75,000 from her credit cards.
Krissy claimed to be a freelance copywriter, but he said this was totally false. Her lifestyle was supported by cocaine dealing. He said her family had also helped her out of debt with five-figure sums. He ended the relationship because he found it impossible to save her from herself and was sick of being with ‘a pathological liar and a drug-dealing sociopath’.
Nick McKenzie contacted Lorne, who made an appointment for 3 January 2013 to visit Andrew at his exclusive menswear salon in a basement showroom beneath Little Collins Street. His Chiodo label at the time was rated among the world’s top 50 clothing brands.
Andrew told Lorne that in 2012, after leaving Krissy, he’d gone to the Drug Squad to tell them what he’d learnt about the drug trade through his relationship with her. He’d made a detailed statement, including naming several of Krissy’s associates from Melbourne and Sydney. He gave Lorne the name of the senior officer to whom he’d spoken.
He told Lorne he was ‘disgusted’ that nothing had been done. He was also concerned that the police could have communicated his information to dangerous offenders. He’d been back in contact with the police and asked why Krissy was still dealing unhindered. He said he was given excuses about the high cost of surveillance.
He told the Drug Squad that Krissy knew she was suspected of dealing and was aware of being investigated by police, but it didn’t worry her. She said it had been going on for years, but she was too smart for them. Andrew told Lorne he’d given the Drug Squad the names of six regular cocaine contacts, one of them a man who’d been arrested in a raid on Krissy’s apartment and served time in an Australian jail.
Lorne told me their names, and I noted that one was a member of a bikie gang, an observation I saved up for later. I have friends in the Gypsy Jokers (not the same gang) and have been at meetings in their clubhouse in Adelaide. I know that bikies are generally loyal friends but bad enemies.
Lorne was interested in what Andrew told him, but his main objective was to find out how much Phoebe might have learnt about Krissy’s drug dealing. Like me, he suspected that one of Krissy’s less charming friends might have paid Phoebe a visit on 2 December. He knew that Phoebe was impressed by Krissy’s glamorous looks and lifestyle. She came across as all the things Phoebe knew Ant wanted her to be — well-groomed, dressed in expensive clothes, clever, articulate, and sophisticated.
Andrew said that Krissy also liked Phoebe, but Ant didn’t like Phoebe spending time with his sister. For the whole time Andrew had been involved with Krissy, there was fluctuating tension between her and Ant. He thought this was because Ant had told their father about her drug dealing and she said he was ‘a hypocrite for dobbing her in’.
Andrew and Krissy had also attended Ant’s birthday party in August 2010, and he said he remembered Phoebe was affected by drugs and alcohol and was very upset about something. Krissy had comforted her. Andrew said that Phoebe also rang Krissy around that time, crying that she wanted to get away from Ant but he wouldn’t let her go.
Lorne spent four hours with Andrew Chiodo. He asked Andrew whether he’d consider revisiting the Drug Squad, perhaps to speak to someone Lorne knew who was higher up than the previous officer. Andrew agreed and later went with Lorne to make a further statement. By coincidence, the officer Lorne and Andrew went to see was someone I’d known for a number of years. He’d become much more senior since I’d last spoken to him, but from the day I first met him I had him down as a Good Cop. He’d reassured Lorne he’d act on the information, but nothing happened. I wondered why not. It seemed out of character for that officer, or the person I thought he was. I resolved to ring and ask him.
The next morning, I packed up the car with a couple of boxes of Lorne’s paperwork, ready to head home to the city. Juicy, pale-green buds studded the bare branches of a couple of fruit trees near the house and the heavy dew on the long grass by the driveway wet my boots. A pearly mist was lifting over the home paddock. The air smelt sensational. With a reproachful stare, Miss Deva showed her extreme reluctance to leave the fire and perform her duty in the wet grass before the long drive home. I thanked Lorne and Amanda for their generous hospitality and told them that if they ever fancied a couple of weeks away, I’d be available for farm-sitting. They only have chooks, I reasoned, so I thought I could manage them.
They don’t get away much. The battle to get justice for Phoebe has bled them dry financially as well as emotionally. As I drove off, I could only hope that they were nearing a satisfactory end to their journey.
CHAPTER 28
THE OUTCOME
I had plenty of time to think about the relationship between Phoebe and Kristina on the long but easy drive home. Linda Cohen had told me that Phoebe seemed to be trying to emulate Krissy in the way she dressed and cut her hair, and possibly in other ways. Ant’s cleaner, who also worked for Krissy, had apparently said something similar. Natalie had noticed a change in Phoebe as well.
Was Phoebe spending time with Krissy without Ant’s knowledge? Or was her friendship with Krissy one of the sources of friction between her and Ant? Was Andrew Chiodo a reliable source of information? Lorne had spent four hours with him and seemed to think he was truthful. Lorne had said, ‘Even though he can’t stand Kristina as a person anymore, he did concede she was never boring. He was attracted to her because of this, but he is also passionately opposed to drug use.’ He was obviously the next person to cross off my list.
When I did a bit of research before making contact, I discovered he was considered to be one of Australia’s top fashion designers. His trademark seemed to be attention to detail, honed by two decades in the fashion business. From the stitching on a shirt to the military precision of his displays, he was known for ‘breaking the rules’ of traditional fashion design. As a retailer, his objective was to make his store a sensory experience.
When I found the front window of the Melbourne store, it provided no indication of what would unfold as I walked down the steps to the vast basement beneath, with its exposed steel beams supporting the building above. From the stairs, the showroom opened up like an art gallery, with spotlit racks of edgy fashion, quirky décor, and music to match. I was doing a reccy without introducing myself, just to get the feel of the place. It seemed as if buying something was almost irrelevant (just as well for me, given the prices!). The space was designed to give pleasure as a total shopping experience. As someone who’s rumoured to have a black belt in shopping, I was impressed.
Chiodo had said in an interview with The Australian that, although he was planning to launch an e-commerce site, his heart remained with bricks and mortar. ‘I’ve never bought a single thing online,’ he told the journalist. ‘I like walking into a store, smelling the fragrance, listening to the music, and just getting the feel and the mood of the place.’ He’d sure got that right at his place, although from what I’d read, his visitors weren’t all tyre-kickers like me. He also had a strong clientele, including people from the arts and creative communities, who came in and bought lots.
I spoke to Andrew later, and he confirmed what he’d said in his long conversation with Lorne. He told me that at one stage he’d decided to open a Sydney branch of Chiodo in Potts Point and put Krissy in charge in the hope she could ‘escape’ the lifestyle she was living. He promoted the Sydney range as being ‘more expensive than hitchhiking, but less expensive than flying to Melbourne’.
The venture was a disaster. He blamed Krissy’s ‘poor work ethic’, but there was probably more to it than that. Often concepts that succeed in Melbourne don’t transplant easily to Sydney. In any case, he had to close it down after spending a fortune on renovations and stocking the premises. Back home, Krissy returned to her previous occupation.
He said he couldn’t tell me much about the relationship between Phoebe and Ant, because during his time with Krissy, the sibling relationship was quite strained, so they didn’t see much of each other except at parties, when there were always others around. His impression of Phoebe and Ant together was that Ant was the dominant one in the relationship. Although Phoebe was feisty, Ant called the shots.
He was nervous talking about his visits to the Drug Squad. He thought the police there might not be trustworthy, and he was worried that he could be at risk from some of Krissy’s bikie friends — especially the Comancheros. He said he’d once seen a drug dealer who was a friend of Krissy’s have a gun held to his head in St Kilda by a bikie who was chasing an overdue drug debt.
The store seemed quite busy, and our conversation was often interrupted by customers. He said he was in the store on his own because he’d sacked his manager. I told him I intended to follow up his approaches to the Drug Squad and would let him know what happened. He wasn’t keen to hear. In fact, I got the strong impression he wished he hadn’t said anything at all. His nerves were getting the better of him.
Not long after our chat, I heard that after 25 years, he’d dismantled the cavernous Chiodo, activated his e-retailing project, selling his quirkiest designs online, and hit the road with his beloved dog Leica. I hoped I hadn’t caused him to cut and run.
*
I rang my police contact and suggested a quick coffee, which turned into a long chat. He was fully aware of the Chiodo information and confirmed what Andrew had told Lorne about Krissy seeming to know she was under surveillance.
‘Every time we put a team onto it, she seems to know,’ he told me. He hadn’t given up, though. It was just that resources were stretched thin right then. He’d promised Lorne it would be investigated, and he intended to be true to his word.
‘These investigations are very expensive,’ he told me. ‘They require a lot of resources and a lot of undercover work. Hampel has a good protective network around her and rarely sells to strangers unless they are introduced by someone she knows. Infiltrating that network is quite a task.’
I told him I’d bet my house on his being up to it. I reckoned it was only a matter of time.
*
In August 2013, Clive and I were in Vietnam, high up in the hills at Dalat, the former French colonial hill station. We stayed at the second-best hotel, as the best one was more than twice the price, but we visited the best hotel to enjoy afternoon tea on the tessellated terrace.
A vintage Rolls Royce was parked at the foot of the marble entrance steps, which led down to a sweeping gravel drive and perfect lawn. Peacocks flashed under flowering trees, and soft chamber music wafted out through the French doors while we sipped our Earl Grey and lavished clotted cream onto warm scones.
My mobile whistled at me. Clive hates the way that my mobile is like a prosthesis accompanying me everywhere, but that’s how I am. There was a short text message from a ‘withheld number’.
‘Hampel arrested. Four counts. Other charges. Tell Lorne I’ve kept my promise.’ I knew who it was from.
I could see the headlines already: ‘Judge’s daughter arrested’, ‘Daughter of former judge on cocaine trafficking charge’. The media loves that stuff. How embarrassing for the family, especially coming so soon after Phoebe’s death. My mother would have crawled under a rock!
I wondered if any facts would emerge that might influence the Coroner’s finding, which was still pending. Of course all the Phoebe stuff would be dredged up again and linked to this latest scandal. When you’re a member of a prominent family, everybody wants to know.
*
Clive and I arrived back in Australia in plenty of time for the first court hearing of the charges on 17 October. It was hard to believe Krissy was 49, she looked so young and glamorous. I’d been told that police had raided her rented home in South Yarra on 14 August, after somehow installing a hidden camera in the house. The camera recorded three separate drug deals over a six-day period.
On 12 August, police had watched on camera as Krissy sold about seven grams of cocaine to a woman customer, who then snorted the drug and commented on its high quality. I was also told she’d also sold to an undercover police officer, who must have slipped through the protective circle. Perhaps he was the one who’d installed the camera? The police informant in the case told me on the phone before the hearing that she’d sold to four officers, but one was enough.
During the raid, the police had seized nine zip-lock bags of cocaine, $12,300 in cash believed to be proceeds of crime, and an aerosol can of tear gas, which is classified as a prohibited weapon.
On 17 October, Krissy arrived at court with a big happy smile, wearing a black lace diamanté sleeveless top and huge dark glasses, as if she were on her way to a social event.
The police described the sophisticated sting, which had been revealed on the secret cameras hidden in her swanky South Yarra property. The prosecutor said that she was caught selling cocaine from her home, netting her $3800 for 10 grams sold on camera.
State Coordinating Magistrate Franz Holzer was told that the buyer had snorted the cocaine off a plate to test its quality before handing over the cash. He was told that on 14 August, police found deal bags containing more of the drug, $12,300 in cash, and a canister of tear gas. The prosecutor told His Honour that police had later returned a large proportion of the cash, which was deemed to have been earned through legitimate means. (No details of the supporting evidence were supplied to the court.)
Kristina pleaded guilty to one charge each of dealing cocaine and possessing a prohibited weapon.
Drug trafficking in Australia is considered to be a very serious offence, one for which legislators and courts have ruled general deterrence is paramount and ‘little mercy’ should be shown. The minimum ‘trafficable quantity’ of cocaine requiring serious penalties is three grams in Victoria. In all Australian states and territories, possession of the threshold quantity or more triggers higher penalties. The sanction for simple use or possession is a maximum of two years imprisonment or — more probably — a simple caution or diversion and no criminal record. Federal police laws are more draconian again, with the penalty for possessing a trafficable quantity ranging up to 14 years in the clink.
Kristina’s barrister, Julie Condon, explained that her client began to deal drugs to her friends when her cocaine addiction became too expensive for her to keep up. So the court should be merciful as she was only dealing to support her own habit?
Possession or use of a prohibited weapon is also a serious offence carrying a maximum penalty of 14 years imprisonment. The Weapons Prohibition Act (1998) makes it an offence to possess or use a prohibited weapon unless the person holds a permit to possess or use the weapon.
Ms Condon told the court a friend had given the tear gas to Kristina for protection because she lived alone. So that was all right then, was it?
Kristina further claimed that journalists writing about her offending had damaged her career as a self-employed copywriter and argued a conviction would cause further setbacks.
Magistrate Holzer said Kristina should have known better given her age, but took into account her early guilty plea and the embarrassment to her family. As the Herald Sun reported sarcastically, ‘When Kristina Hampel was finally placed before a court after a long and peaceful career of boutique drug dealing in South Yarra, the quality of mercy was at the vintage French champagne end of the market.’
Kristina was sentenced to a 24-month community corrections order and ordered to carry o
ut 200 hours of community work. The Victorian Sentencing Act (1991) permits a judge to record no conviction while also imposing a penalty such as a community service order, and that was what the judge did. Krissy was still smiling as she left the court. The police were not.
*
If Krissy had friends who could give her a prohibited weapon so she could look after herself, did she have friends who would protect her from other threats? Maybe one of them had gone to see Phoebe that day in December to have a little chat. Perhaps she buzzed him in. Perhaps things got out of hand. Perhaps the false phone number found in Phoebe’s jeans was evidence she’d become involved with a seriously bad crowd. Perhaps by trying to leave Ant she was trying to extricate herself from something more serious than a rocky relationship? This line of thinking may be speculative in the extreme, but who would believe someone would throw themselves 12 floors down a rubbish chute either? I hoped that the Coroner would deliver an open finding, in case further details came to hand.
*
The long-awaited day arrived on 10 December 2014. The Coroner had advised he was ready to hand down his finding that day. I was interstate and couldn’t attend, but lots of people did.
Coroner White ruled that Phoebe had climbed into the rubbish chute and fallen to her death under the influence of alcohol and Stilnox. She hadn’t been placed in the chute while unconscious or disabled by an assailant, and she hadn’t entered the chute with the intention of committing suicide. The Coroner concluded that she’d been ‘in a zolpidem/alcohol induced sleepwalking’ state or ‘deeply confused and disorientated’. As a result, Phoebe ‘entered the chute and began to climb down towards the ground floor, this without any awareness of the dangers implicit in this behaviour’.
