The Devil's Garden

by Debi Marshall

  Ferguson doesn't like to dwell on murder cases, on the sick psyche of the offenders who treat human lives with careless disdain. For this copper, who himself stared into the abyss during four years of enforced exile from policing, the job is not about politics; it's about the victims and their families. He recounts interviewing a killer many years ago who described in icy, graphic detail what he did to his petrified female victim. 'After he raped her, he asked her how she wanted to die and gave her the options. Stabbing or strangulation?' He pauses. 'Shocking, isn't it. Truly shocking. Partly in light of this, and since the Victims of Homicide was set up in the mid-80s, we know it is critical that families know the most intimate and gruesome details. We have told the parents of the Claremont girls everything we know, so that if it ever comes up at trial they won't be forced to confront it for the first time. But it is always distressing, always disgusting. No matter how much they are prepared, it is terribly painful.'

  83

  Ten years after the first Claremont murder, all the taskforce members can reel off the mission statement as if it was yesterday. Many describe the feeling of 'emptiness' that the case is still unsolved and others, despite counselling, have symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder – flashbacks, nightmares – from seeing the girls' bodies, dealing with the families and the intricate details of the case. Tony Potts still maintains that, despite the identity and capture of the killer requiring continued perseverance, there is little doubt that the expertise, innovative approach and dedication of criminal investigators still working on the case will ensure these murders will be solved, one day. It is not an optimism that is widely shared.

  At each Friday briefing, as a wind-down, the Macro team had 'fine sessions' where they threw two dollars into the social club account in payment for small errors made during the week. It was agreed from the outset that until the case was done and dusted, there will be no get-together of all the investigators, no back-slapping in the pub to keep up morale. Every year, the social club account relating to Macro grows bigger. Untouched.

  Tired of the blood and gore, the murky world that police reporters necessarily inhabit, The West Australian's reporter, Luke Morfesse, now writes a daily column. A journalist since 1986, he cut his teeth on a murder story in 1987 on his first day as a police roundsman. Working The West Australian's Melbourne and Sydney bureaux in the early 1990s, he was the chief crime reporter in Perth, barring a short break, from 1994 until 2006. But his contacts, hard-won and hard-kept, still keep him informed of breaking crime stories. He reflects on the terrible waste of young lives in the Claremont case. 'Sarah was just a teenager, and she would have been no match for whoever did this. Regardless of whether she'd been drinking or not, she would have had little chance. Jane was great fun, loved life and like a lot of people who were out that night, she'd had a few drinks. So if someone had come along and offered her a lift, she would have struggled to put up a fight once in the car. Ciara was known to be very strong-minded, feisty, and she was determined to get home. If she had the opportunity to, she would have fought like a caged tiger.'

  Ciara Glennon's memory lives on in the Memorial Law Scholarship in her name at the University of Western Australia, where she was a student. Established in 1998, the scholar-ship is awarded annually to a law student who demonstrates, amongst other criteria, a need for financial assistance to continue their studies, a caring commitment to others and an active interest in an area outside the practice of law. These criteria, Una Glennon said, capture as closely as possible the characteristics that epitomised the life of her late daughter. The family has also dedicated a shrine to Ciara in a chapel at Notre Dame University in Fremantle and holds a memorial Mass every year at Thomas More Chapel on the anniversary of her death.

  Denis Glennon's faith in God is still strong, but his faith in the WA judicial system less so. He expressed concern that even if Ciara's killer was brought to trial, 'the system would fail the expectations of the average Western Australian'.

  Like Jane Rimmer's disposal site, the cross that marks where Ciara lay has been repeatedly vandalised and destroyed by fire. It is now made of metal. Many people – friends and family – have made private pilgrimages to both Wellard and Eglinton, to pay respects to Jane and Ciara. In comparison, the Spiers family has no place to go to quietly reflect on Sarah's life. Suburbia has slowly crept into the Wellard area, huge machines clearing the scrub for development. Police ask the developers to keep a keen eye out for any sign of Sarah Spiers's body. The area is subject to feral cats, foxes, kangaroos and high water levels. Ten years after she disappeared, they know her body will be scattered skeletal remains at best. But her family is desperate to find her. So very desperate.

  The victims' families can also take no heart from historical evidence from the USA, which points to the phenomenon of serial killing rising in that country. It is likely, analysts say, that Australia will follow suit.

  A Macro source, who had offered me information to ensure I did not repeat inaccuracies, denied that Jane's – and probably Ciara's – throat had been slashed when I discussed this with him. 'It didn't happen,' he tells me emphatically. 'Someone has got it wrong.' But they haven't, and he knows it. Two other former Macro sources beyond Jane's family concede it is correct. Dave Barclay also concedes this is correct. The bid to keep secret the cause of death in the guise of checking inaccuracies does nothing but create confusion.

  At a police union dinner in 2002, John Quigley was pushed around by police in the men's toilet and called a rat for breaking ranks. The incident followed a television interview where he openly questioned the police investigation into Pamela Lawrence's murder, stating it involved high-level police corruption by senior police. A life member of the police union, Quigley had attended 21 dinners and would continue to attend them. He got a touch-up, he says, but the reasons they did it are their problem, not his.

  Quigley nominates the three 'P's that often bring down a copper: Property. Piss. Pussy. 'My first point of call is always cock-up, not conspiracy. The corporate line is, "we don't deny there will be isolated cases of police corruption," but I don't buy that. I usually find that a corrupt officer rarely acts by himself, that the only reason his corruption is able to flourish is because more than one person is involved or people turn a blind eye to it.' There's also a real problem now, he believes, in investigating Claremont. 'Not only do witness recollections become unreliable with the passage of time, but when an investigative team has raked over material ad infinitum, things tend to become confused. And that's not good for an end result.'

  In early November 2006 police in Ipswich, England, raise concerns for the safety of 19-year-old missing prostitute Tania Nicol. Within a week, the story had made headlines around the world as a further four women fell victim to a serial killer. The savagery and speed of the murders gained the story grim comparisons with the Yorkshire Ripper and Jack the Ripper cases, and the press sensationally dubbed this killer the 'Suffolk Ripper'. By December, the bodies of all five women – Gemma Adams, 25; Anneli Alderton, 24; Paula Clennell, 24; and Annette Nicholls, 29 and Tania Nicol, whose disappear-ance first raised alarm – were found in different places in surrounding Suffolk County, around 110 kilometres north-east of London. At the height of the hysteria, 48-year-old forklift driver Steven Wright was arrested and charged with all five murders. Typically of serial killers, he had been living near the area where the girls worked the streets, targeting society's most vulnerable members: drug-addicted street workers in desperate need of fast cash. Advances in DNA and police technology had helped Suffolk police catch the killer, leading to a telling comment from Don Spiers. 'Western Australia Police didn't have this advantage when Sarah, Jane and Ciara went missing. These killers are nothing but predators, waiting for opportunity. When they are caught, we house them in prison at taxpayers' expense instead of getting rid of them. No one will have any argument from me in wanting to bring back the death penalty. Just get rid of these monsters.'

  On 7 December 2006 Pert
h police announce to the media that Mark Dixie has been ruled out as a suspect in the Claremont murders. Their investigations, they reveal, have found it unlikely that Dixie was in Perth when Sarah Spiers disappeared from Claremont and have also found no evidence to link him to any crimes in Western Australia.

  With Dixie now officially out of the frame they are, yet again, back to the drawing board.

  Ten years on, police are still holding the DNA samples taken from the taxi drivers and the results of the forensic reviews are still not finalised. One of the major forensic issues identified as potentially problematic was the chain of evidence moving through different laboratories and the potential for contamination or loss. The police service is now looking at several options, among them an independent forensic institute which would centralise the work currently being done by Pathwest at the Health Department, the Chem Centre at the Department of Minerals and Energy and some police forensics.

  On 10 January, 2007, Bradley Murdoch lost his appeal against his 28-year non-parole jail sentence for killing Peter Falconio and assaulting Joanne Lees. Media interest in his possible involvement in the Claremont killings quickly subsided.

  Not everyone in Western Australia is convinced that the murders and disappearance are the work of the same person. Tom Percy QC is one. 'I've acted for a lot of criminals over the years and, to be frank, they're not that stupid. Claremont was crawling with security and we are led to believe that the same perpetrator hit the same street and the same pub on two occasions after Sarah Spiers. I'll believe it when someone confesses and the confession is proven.' Percy says he would be 'astounded' if the killer is Lance Williams. 'There's a culture of police and DPP in this state that categorically likes to win, a culture that goes back at least 50 years. I absolutely fear for anyone who is charged with the Claremont serial killings because the police will run with it with all the zeal of a fifth-century Crusader looking for the Holy Grail. They will be cheered on by the prosecutors and the risk is, that in all the hype that will be generated they could just overlook the fact that they may have charged the wrong man.' Percy compares the WA Police with those in the Canadian Rockies. 'In Canada, they "always get their man". In Western Australia they decide who they want and go after him.'

  Percy holds little hope that the serial killings will be resolved. 'At the end of the day, when the mighty drum sounded, did Jack the Ripper stand up? No, he didn't. And there is as much chance now of the Claremont killer confessing as Jack the Ripper. If police can't reach a conclusion, they need at least to be able to say that they chased every rabbit down every hole. Have they done that? Given the resources at their fingertips, if they can't come up with a solid case that invites more than speculation, then there will never be a resolution.'

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  Norma Williams is as bewildered today as she ever was over the police surveillance of her son. She doesn't know what is going on now, what police are doing or planning. 'They still could be around the place somewhere, you just don't know,' she sighs. 'Skulking about, kind of sneaky, you know. People say to me, why don't we sue for harassment, for having our lives turned upside down like this? But the police say they can do anything they like. Anything at all. It's all part of their operational techniques. They are tin gods, with no accountability.' She shakes her head, bemused. 'We've got to try and sort of, you know, get on with our lives, try to get over it. But that's hard to do.'

  Lance has hardly left the house since his surveillance was made public, instead staying in his room reading Reader's Digest magazines or watching the occasional movie on TV. He has no ambition to go out, Norma says. Why would he, when he was constantly followed everywhere he went? She can't understand why, if they haven't got enough evidence to charge Lance, they don't put him in the clear? 'As far as I know he has never been to where Jane or Ciara's bodies were found. He told me he hasn't been there. It's possible, I suppose, that he could have got out the night Sarah disappeared, but why didn't we hear him? And why didn't the police go public about the other suspects? Who are these people? We never hear anything of them. Never. They're like invisible ghosts.' The Williams family heard nothing of the review team's findings, either. 'They didn't come near us. They just flitted in and out of the place and that was that.'

  Does she ever have doubts about her son's guilt, I ask her? Ever wonder if she is blinded by a mother's instinct to protect her own at all costs? That maybe, after all, the criticism that police have worn from the media about the covert and overt surveillance that he is, after all, the Claremont serial killer? Her eyes flicker past me for the briefest moment before they return my gaze. 'Do I ever have any doubt?' she repeats, softly. There is something of a wistful look in her eyes, something hard to define. As though she is in a fugue state, a world of her own. 'Do I have doubts?' she repeats. 'No. No. Not really. Not really.' She bids me goodbye with a wan, faint smile and closes the door.

  Epilogue

  They still party at Claremont's Club Bayview and Red Rock Hotel, young revellers spilling out into the balmy nights, waiting to get a taxi home. They walk down the street where Sarah Spiers was last seen, high on their youth, giggling from too much alcohol. Sarah's name is only vaguely familiar to them now, just a distant memory of the young, pretty girl whose disappearance changed the axis of their city; just a distant memory of that young, pretty girl who never came home.

  Only the occasional car headlight pierces the night's darkness at Pipidinny Road; only nocturnal animals foraging for food breaks the eerie silence. No stars wink in this winter night's sky; there is nothing here to illuminate the blackness. Ciara Glennon's spirit hovers in the chilly air, an unseen presence. Speak gently, she can hear the daisies grow.

  The lilies still grow at Wellard, peeking shyly from the cool earth in winter, full-blown by spring. Raindrops like tears skate on their green foliage and nestle in the base of their lemon tongues. Like tears, they weep over Jane Rimmer's disposal site, falling bleakly on the sodden ground. Pools of tears in which the death lilies grow.

  UNSOLVED, MISSING

  OR MURDERED

  Kerryn Tate, 22, body burnt on tree stump, December 1979. Murdered.

  Lisa Mott, 12, last seen in Collie, October 1980. Missing.

  Sharon Fulton, East Perth railway station, 1986. Missing.

  Cheryl Renwick, 33, disappeared from South Perth unit, 26 May 1986. Missing.

  Sally Greenham, 20, August 1987, Adelaide Terrace, Perth. Missing.

  Julie Cutler, 22, last seen at Parmelia Hilton Hotel, 20 June 1988. Car found in surf. Missing.

  Barbara Western, found in bushland north-east of Canning Dam, Perth. Murdered.

  Kerry Turner, 18, body found near Canning Dam, July 1991. Murdered.

  Radina Djukich, 14, last seen at her North Beach unit, 16 May 1992. Missing.

  Cariad Anderson-Slater, 41, last seen at dawn exiting a taxi, Perth, 13 July 1992. Missing.

  Petronella Albert, 21, Broome area, April 1999. Missing.

  Hayley Dodd, Badgingarra, 17, July 1999. Missing.

  Lisa Govan, 28, last seen at 7.30 am, Kalgoorlie, 8 October 1999. Missing.

  Deborah Andserson, last seen 25 January 2000. Car found burning with body in front seat at Middle Swan Shopping Centre. Murdered.

  Sarah McMahon, 20, last seen in Claremont, November 8, 2000. Her car found unlocked in a hospital car park, November 20. Missing.

  Lisa Brown, 19, street prositute, last seen on a Perth street at 12.30 am, 10 November 1998. Missing.

  Darylyn Ugle, 25, street prostitute. Body found at Mundaring Weir, April 2003. Murdered.

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank the following people for their enormous help with background research for this book. A special thank you to the heartbroken parents of both the murdered and missing girls who trusted me to tell their stories. To my journalist colleagues, for interviews and for use of the extensive work they have covered on the subject: Post newspaper editor and proprietor Bret Christian for your generosity with news
paper clippings and for sharing your overall knowledge of your home city; The West Australian's Luke Morfesse, who is a font of knowledge on the Claremont case and was incredibly helpful; Rex Haw at Channel 10 for trusting me with precious clippings amassed over a decade; and to Liam Bartlett, Colleen Egan and Wendy Page, producer of ABC's Australian Story, for general background material.

  Thanks to Robin Napper, for all your help and passing on contacts and Thomas Lawson, for countless emails outlining Weygers's story. Thanks to WA Police for use of photo-graphs relating to this story and to those who so generously shared their knowledge in those rushed, last-minute inter-views: retired NSW officer Mike Hagan, Superintendent Paul Schramm, Inspector Paul Ferguson, Superintendent Stephen Brown and former Senior-Sergeant Tony Potts.

  Thanks also to my 'man in the field', the former police officer who asked to remain anonymous; to the other former investigators who helped me fill the gaps in the puzzle; to Con Bayens, for your support and help; Mick Buckley for information and to Nic from the Australian Missing Person's website, for all your work.

  To the lawyers: barrister and MP John Quigley, for your colourful insights; barrister Belinda Lonsdale for the Rory Christie transcripts; lawyer Neil Fearis for colouring-in the Glennon story; Tom Percy QC and barrister Jonathon Davies for background.

  Thanks also to Lance Williams's mother, Norma, for your patience with my questions and John Button, for your wonderful help with this and other projects.

  Thanks to Publisher Meredith Curnow at Random House for putting your faith in my writing, again, and courage in bringing this story to the page; Brandon VanOver for your wonderful encouragement and patience in reading and re-reading every line; Louise Sterling, for your fabulous edit and empathy with this tragic story; and lawyer Richard Potter, for your terrific legal advice.