Exclusive extract from must-read Claremont book

Chapter 5 — Macro ‘I WOULD sit in the lounge chair ... and it would be as if someone put a band around my head above my ears and was just tightening it. There was just immense pressure in a circle around my head. I was actually sitting there pulling my hair out.” That was how Don Spiers described those dark days in early 1996 after his beloved Sarah went missing. By mid-1997, with two more girls dead and the people of Perth in an unprecedented state of panic and paranoia, the same maddening, tightening pressure was closing in on WA Police. And Perth was turning on itself. Unease was around every dark corner: women, of any age in any suburb, did not feel safe; men felt like suspects, not citizens. The Macro task force simply could not give the public the immediate answers it so craved. Detective Paul Ferguson — the public face of the investigation since its inception — was used to chasing high-profile killers. A decade earlier, he had been one of those who had helped capture serial killer couple David and Catherine Birnie, after their killing spree in Perth’s suburbs. He had gone face-to-face with Birnie after his capture, trying to coax a confession. But even having stared down that cold-hearted killer, the Claremont case was bigger again. And the criticisms were starting to come — beginning with the questionnaires. Circulated after Jane went missing in the first half of 1996, but before her body was discovered, they were based on a scientific content analysis — or SCAN — technique, developed by former Israeli policeman, American criminologist and lie detector expert Avinoam Sapir. Mr Sapir swore by the technique involving a word-by-word study of a person’s statement for clues to truthfulness or hidden meaning. But, to the public, the questions looked ludicrously blunt — and highly unlikely to get a result. ‘Did you abduct or murder Sarah Spiers?’ ‘Did you take part in the abduction or murder of Jane Rimmer?’ ‘Should we believe your answers?’ One of those asked to provide some answers was Peter Weygers, Claremont mayor and president of the WA branch of the Council for Civil Liberties. He refused — with interest. “Why do they want to interview me about Rimmer when 800,000 Australians live alone and, like me, have no alibi for where they were on the night?” he said. The legal establishment also raised its eyebrows. “The very solid community goodwill that has been generated during this inquiry will be put at risk if people think they are being considered as suspects,” then secretary of The Criminal Lawyers’ Association John Prior said. And those sentiments appeared to be coming true, with one profession under more scrutiny than any other as the months ticked by. Taxi drivers had borne the brunt of public fear and loathing almost immediately after Sarah vanished, despite the industry pleading its innocence. The knowledge that Sarah had ordered a cab, but never made it home, permeated — and then began to poison — Perth’s pub and club talk. Taxis were spat at, lone women refused to be driven alone, and wild rumours surfaced — of fake taxis operating in the western suburbs, or even a lesbian serial killer using a cab to lure her unsuspecting victims. When it then emerged that drivers with violence and sex crime offences on their records were still allowed to drive the streets, the government ordered a purge of the industry — despite its leaders saying it was already on the brink of collapse. And then Ciara disappeared. “We are into a mixture of panic and paranoia and fear and distrust and the blaming stage. People are blaming others and we can self-destruct as a community,” WA Police Commissioner Bob Falconer was driven to say. “For example, taxis: I am unaware — and I consider I am well-briefed on this case — I am unaware of any evidence that points to taxis or a taxi driver specifically. What I’m seeing now, I’ve seen before when the community can start to fragment. What will make it all fail is if we all withdraw into a state of fear and start blaming one another. “I don’t fear people turning on the police at all, it’s on one another. People need to have faith in the investigators of this State.” That pronounced faith had even seen Paul Ferguson go back to David Birnie in prison, to pick his criminal brain to see if he could give him any tiny clue into the new killer he was now hunting. Birnie had rung him — and it was yet another stone that needed to be turned over, however distasteful that stone was. The Commissioner’s words, and that permission, should have given Ferguson the confidence to know he was trusted to keep hunting for the Claremont serial killer long-term. In reality, he was out of the Macro fold within a fortnight. ------------- The public message was that Det. Ferguson was taking leave because of his massive workload. But privately, the experienced investigator had been overlooked for an inspector’s role, pushed up to Broome to work on another murder, and others were being promoted above him. The most significant of those was David Caporn. Already a hugely experienced officer, with 18 years on the job — nine of those in major crime — Caporn was a rising star in the higher ranks of WA Police. His reputation was that of a detective who was not afraid to get his hands dirty. In fact, he relished it. “In almost every major line of inquiry, he will review it, provide input ... actually involve himself and give (officers) lines of inquiry to follow, give them ... ways of interviewing a suspect. It’s just the sort of person that he is,” colleague John Brandham once said. And the reputation of a detective who got things done fast had been cemented with his prominent role in the hunt for the killer of Pamela Lawrence. Mrs Lawrence owned a jewellery shop called Flora Metallica, on Glyde Street in Mosman Park, and that is where, on Monday May 23, 1994, while a fierce storm whipped through Perth, she was savagely killed inside her business. At 4.30pm, after sharing a cup of coffee with his wife, Peter Lawrence left her at the shop. But two hours later, after she had failed to arrive at their nearby Kalgoorlie Street home or answer the phone, he returned to find the mother-of-two barely clinging to life after a frenzied bashing. She died hours later in hospital, sparking a massive manhunt in the area which initially identified 136 suspects. And one of those was Andrew Mallard, a troubled young man who had been living on the nearby streets in the weeks prior since suffering a nervous breakdown. He came to the attention of police after he was placed in Graylands Hospital, a psychiatric facility, for attempting a burglary while impersonating a police officer. He was arrested and, after several long and winding police interviews — at which Det. Caporn was an interrogator — he was charged with Mrs Lawrence’s murder. Despite allegations of assault and mistreatment in those interviews, which Det. Caporn categorically denied, Andrew Mallard was convicted of murder during a robbery gone wrong and, in late 1995, was sentenced to life in prison. It was a hugely satisfying result for WA Police — swiftly solving a horrible murder in the Nedlands electorate of then-premier Richard Court — and a significant notch on Det. Caporn’s belt. And when less than a month after that conviction, Sarah Spiers vanished on her way to the same suburb in which Mrs Lawrence met her horrible fate, Det. Caporn was an obvious choice to play a major part in the investigation which followed. The departure of Paul Ferguson provided the opportunity for Det. Caporn to rise through the ranks of the investigating task force. With three girls missing — two of them mercilessly murdered — he was placed in overall command. And he was immediately out in front. Within days of taking over, he was warning Perth the killer could strike again. “We are dealing with someone who knows they are going to commit further offences, therefore they are planning how they are going to do it and where they are going to dispose of the body,” the newly-minted Det- Insp. said. Then, he was reassuring the same public that police were making progress, albeit slowly. “I hope people understand that this is the behind-the-scenes, mundane, foot-slogging going on by the officers attached to the Macro task force,” he said. “There’s no glory or glamour in what they have to do. It’s hard work and it’s tedious.” So the slog continued — and the pressure grew — as the months of 1997 stretched out without any tangible breakthrough. While those closest to the murder hunt were intensely wary of letting anything escape from inside the Macro bubble, those in charge were now having to think outside of the box — and like the questionnaires, that was starting to raise some questions. The fact profilers Claude Minisini and David Caldwell had been allowed to attend Ciara’s post-mortem examination was still a closely guarded secret. But their involvement in the investigation was not. Mr Minisini, a long-time detective-sergeant in Victoria, was one of two men who ran Forensic Behavioural Investigative Services — a private investigation company that claimed to be the only organisation in Australia using behavioural analysis to identify offenders. Predominantly involved in corporate crime, FBIS rose to prominence in WA after producing a report on the theft of millions of dollars’ worth of gemstones from the Argyle Diamond Mine up to 1990. Mr Minisini, and his company, became part of the inner circle. The fascination with Mr Minisini’s methods, honed at the FBI, irked one senior WA officer so much he resigned from the force. But with vast funds available, and pressure mounting to make an arrest, any suggestion as to how to progress was being listened to. And so it was, on Claude Minisini’s recommendation, WA Police brought in David Caldwell. The South Carolina detective and profiler had built himself a reputation after a 1994 case in which he had been instrumental in breaking down the lies of an American woman who had murdered her two sons by strapping them into a car and allowing it to roll into a lake. She had claimed a black man had carjacked her and then killed her babies but, with Mr Caldwell’s help, she later confessed she had killed them herself. Now walking the streets of Claremont to retrace the killer’s steps, the pair of outsiders drew the cameras and microphones. While other investigators were being told to stay quiet — and Commissioner Falconer was telling the media to ignore the thoughts of other experts — Caldwell and Minisini’s theories received plenty of airtime. They homed in on the killer’s likely obsession with his vehicle — opining that he had probably washed or polished it on the day of the murders. Mr Caldwell told the press he believed the killer would be “probably very bright, very much in control of himself ... probably a very pleasant, normal-appearing person”. A more-detailed profile, worked up and then released publicly, pinpointed other probable elements of the killer’s life — the fact that he probably lived alone, the temporary departure of a partner or other family members, and an occupation allowing him freedom of movement at night. “I dare say that when this guy is arrested, I guarantee that people are going to be absolutely astounded,” Mr Caldwell told reporters. “They’re gonna say, ‘I worked with this guy. He’s my next-door neighbour. Surely it can’t be?’” ------------- By July 1997, the Macro task force had grown towards 100 police and detectives, working full-time, around-the-clock — with the eyes of the city on them, and three grieving families waiting for answers. And the list of potential suspects identified, considered, screened, ruled out and still outstanding was already in the thousands. More than 2000 of Perth’s 3500 taxi drivers had been scrutinised, with more than 1000 taxis inspected. Saliva and fingerprint sampling of the drivers was taking up massive amounts of time, energy, and resources. Other emergency services working on those nights — police officers, ambulance workers — were also being looked at. Mass publicity — including re-creations from Ciara and Jane’s final nights, and appeals from personalities including Lisa McCune and Kate Ceberano — were generating unprecedented public engagement. In three months, Crime Stoppers had received more than 35,000 calls from the public hoping to help find a killer — the equivalent of two years-worth of contact. And since October 1996, Macro detectives had the benefit of a covert camera that had been installed in the shopfront window of a clothes boutique on Claremont’s swanky Bay View Terrace. Codenamed “Operation Picnic” after the name of the store, the camera was intended to capture images of the number plates of cars and pedestrians passing by on weekend evenings. And with more than 1000 cars driving past on busy weekends, all the footage — some of it dimly-lit, poorly-framed and barely-visible — needed to be reviewed and checked. The haystack was getting bigger but the needle was just as small. So Det-Insp. Caporn decided to widen the borders again. Again, using funds raised by the Glennons’ influential connections, he looked across the Atlantic to push the investigative envelope. It was suggested that Ronald Homer, another former FBI operative, should go to Perth to try to reduce the size of the haystack by using his particular skill — detecting lies. During a career spanning 21 years with the Federal bureau, Homer had conducted more than 1000 polygraph examinations. And, despite the technique having never been used in a WA police probe before — and the results being inadmissible in court — Macro believed he could also help them. “We see the polygraph as an excellent screening tool,” Det-Insp. Caporn said. “By removing from our focus those people who pass their test, we concentrate our resources on the persons who are more likely to be responsible. “This is an excellent opportunity for these people to eliminate themselves from the investigation and get us out of their lives.” So Homer went to work on the 54 people WA Police, after a “concentrated investigation”, had deemed “persons of interest”. Rubber tubes were connected to their stomach and chest to record breathing patterns, metal plates attached to fingers to test sweat levels and a pressure cuff put in place to measure heart rate and blood pressure. Two months later, Det-Insp. Caporn proudly announced that the technique had done what he had hoped. “It has enabled us to eliminate a large number of people from the investigation. The majority of people tested proved to be non-deceptive on Macro issues,” he said. “I am not going to discuss numbers of the people who may have been found inconclusive or, in fact, where deception may have been indicated. “For those who have not been cleared from the investigation, it’s simply that their situation hasn’t changed — and they remain within our focus.” By September 1997, it finally looked as if Macro — the big picture — might move to the micro, to look very closely at someone in particular. But within two months, a mother was raped and drowned in her own spa and a boy in a blue cap went missing. Meaning the focus of so many shifted — and was spread so thin — again. ------------- It was just after 9am on September 8, 1997, when Elizabeth Threnoworth heard her front doorbell ring. She had already dropped her two daughters off at the primary school close to where her family lived in Dianella and her husband Richard was already at work. She may have been intrigued rather than concerned at who should come knocking so early. She should have been terrified. Because the caller was a 26-year-old man, a complete stranger, who was about to become her killer. Armed with a pocketknife he burst into the home, tied up his unsuspecting victim and subjected her to 75 minutes of hell. Raped twice, she was eventually strangled, and her naked body left in the spa. The cold-blooded killer then calmly walked out of the house with a stolen ATM card and $20 in cash, and went to play video games at Timezone. Another lone woman attacked and murdered in a normally quiet suburb. Another jolt to Perth’s senses. And another desperate manhunt for the city’s already stretched homicide detectives. It would be four months before Dale Robert Mitchell, a university dropout who roamed the suburb’s streets when his family thought he was studying at university, would hand himself in and admit to the horrific crime. In that time yet another innocent was to vanish off a WA street. And this case had chilling echoes for those immersed in the Claremont case — echoes that would linger for years. On October 14, 1997, 11-year-old Gerard Ross was in the first days of his long-awaited family holiday in Rockingham. On his way to buy a comic book — with $10 in an envelope his mother had given him — Gerard vanished, without an apparent struggle, scuffle or scream. At first, his loved ones thought he was just dawdling at the shops, or maybe lost on the way back. But as the hours passed and he didn’t come back, police quickly concluded he had been abducted. Two weeks later, his little body was found dumped in a pine plantation in Karnup, just over 10km from where he was last seen. His comic money — two $5 notes — was still on him, but his distinctive blue Yankees baseball cap was not. Yet another brutal death. Another mystery. Another unsuspecting victim snatched off the street, murdered and then dumped in a bush location — with personal items apparently taken by the killer. And another massive job for WA Police — who despite the seemingly unrelenting string of tragedies, insisted they could cope with the parallel probes. “We have a lot of depth and we can go to a lot of other units if we need to. It is certainly not right to say we are stretched thin,” Acting Assistant Commissioner (crime) Graeme Lienert said. “We have three serious protracted matters ... which always place a demand on resources and we treat these as our number one priority.” For the members of the Macro task force, of course, their number one priority was still to find the man who had taken Sarah, Jane and Ciara. And after the results of Ronald Homer’s extensive polygraph examinations came back — with the news that one of those dozens of “persons of interest” had failed the test — that number one priority was about to become their number one suspect. Lance Kenneth Williams.

exclusive
Enigma of the Dark — The Claremont serial killings book extract: Macro taskforce

Be in
the know.

Get the latest news delivered to your inbox.

The West Australian exclusiveEnigma of the Dark — The Claremont serial killings book extract: Macro taskforce

Be in the know.

Get the latest news delivered to your inbox.

exclusive
Enigma of the Dark — The Claremont serial killings book extract: Macro taskforce

Be in
the know.