Stalked Read online

  STALKED

  To the hundreds of Australian women who tonight brace themselves for another terrifying episode at the hands of their own twisted stalker.

  STALKED

  EVERY WOMAN’S NIGHTMARE

  CHRIS SMITH

  First published in Australia in 2007 by

  New Holland Publishers (Australia) Pty Ltd

  Sydney • Auckland • London • Cape Town

  www.newholland.com.au

  14 Aquatic Drive Frenchs Forest NSW 2086 Australia

  218 Lake Road Northcote Auckland New Zealand

  86 Edgware Road London W2 2EA United Kingdom

  80 McKenzie Street Cape Town 8001 South Africa

  Copyright © 2007 in text: Chris Smith

  Copyright © 2007 New Holland Publishers (Australia) Pty Ltd

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers and copyright holders.

  National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication Data:

  ISBN 9781741105278.

  e-ISBN 9781921665180

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  Acknowledgments

  Foreword by Jacqueline Milledge and Michael Kennedy

  PART ONE: TERROR

  Chapter 1: Praying for dawn

  Chapter 2: Predator

  PART TWO: TO TURN BACK TIME

  Chapter 3: Himbos and him

  Chapter 4: Entwined

  Chapter 5: A psychotic mess

  Chapter 6: Igniting evil

  Chapter 7: Bashed

  PART THREE: RELENTLESS

  Chapter 8: In her face

  Chapter 9: Not alone

  Chapter 10: Interference

  Chapter 11: A cry for sanity

  Chapter 12: Prime time

  Chapter 13: Last roll

  Chapter 14: A litany of courage

  PART FOUR: A LONG TIME COMING

  Chapter 15: In the vice

  Chapter 16: A mad mind

  Chapter 17: Raising the gavel

  Chapter 18: Remember me

  Epilogue

  About the author

  INTRODUCTION

  Having worked in an electronic storytelling medium for 26 years, it’s not always the extreme manifestation of crime or behaviour that engrosses me enough to put the tale down in a book.

  Sometimes it’s the sheer commonality of the syndrome and its unimpeded damage that attracts me, that motivates me to delve further and tell as many people about it as possible.

  According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics in 2005, almost 200,000 women were stalked in Australia. That’s two or more stalking episodes from the same person. Forty per cent were stalked by a stranger and fourteen per cent by a previous partner.

  This is the kind of anecdotal frequency I was fielding as an investigative journalist, but it was such a difficult crime to uncover and reveal. That was until I met Libby Masters, who in 1995 became the tragic victim of an incessant and obsessed stalker. Her predator’s dysfunction was well on the way to wrecking one very promising life.

  When Libby’s case came to me, while I was working at A Current Affair, it was at the genesis of the television genre’s hidden infra-red camera phase. It was only after this tale became televised, however, that I realised how essential it was to write this book. The stalker’s tentacles were far-reaching. This was, without hyperbole, every woman’s nightmare.

  There is an intentional ten-year gap between the start and finish of this story … after what the victims endured, they deserved such a respite. Therefore, today those same courageous women can either choose to revisit this horror in total anonymity or introduce those who now share their new lives to this tragic chapter in their past.

  If, in some of the victims’ recollections or my interpretation of them, some details have faded a little in that time lapse, I apologise in advance. I have done my very best to record what really happened between this serial stalker and his hapless victims.

  I essentially want to highlight this frequently reported dysfunction to the widest possible readership. Stalking creates unreported and untold angst and horror for so many women across Australia. They deserve better protective legislation and sentencing, but, at a grassroots level, even greater attention from those that receive the panic call at the cop shop late at night. Never ignore the victim!

  I hope that Stalked goes some way to highlighting the damaging fallout from such an insidious common obsession.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  The long-suffering victims at the centre of this case deserve the ultimate thanks for their courage, firstly to fight back and secondly to be prepared to add very personal input into the telling of this story. Chief amongst them Libby Masters, who told me of her ordeal many more times than she was ever prepared to. She should be applauded for her uncanny ability to bounce back from repeated horror and still stick her neck out to seek closure and justice.

  It was that mission—to shut her stalker from her life forever—which made her reticent to throw herself back into the telling of this story a decade after her anguish began. That to me will always be an entirely understandable reaction.

  My appreciation goes too to the former detectives who joined in the hunt for the stalker. They later assisted the process with vital information and recently agreed to scan through an early manuscript.

  To Matthew Condon—who not only connected me to Libby’s plight, but continually encouraged me to write this book—I hope that we remain eternal mates.

  To Managing Director Fiona Schultz, Publisher Martin Ford, Project Editor Michael McGrath, Editor Belinda Castles and Publicists Ian Dodd and Lotta Haegg, you’ve made disseminating this haunting story remarkably easy.

  Thank you too to my old comrades at Channel Nine, who gave me opportunity and support, even when things didn’t go to plan.

  My thanks also to Warren Mallard, at Lyonswood Investigations, and Steve Packer, from the Barrington Group, who helped me tie up some important loose ends.

  Acting NSW Chief Coroner Jacqui Milledge has had such a mammoth and high-profile caseload of late. Her insight into this menacing syndrome is gratefully accepted.

  It’s not such an impossible task researching and interviewing key players in a story, when you are totally consumed by the work. It is, however, an entirely different proposition a decade later, when the responsibility of marriage and toddlers compete with the writing of that story. This book would not have materialised without the patience and encouragement of my fabulously colourful wife Ally, who spent most of every second evening in 2006 without a husband. You are beautiful.

  FOREWORD

  Jacqueline Milledge

  When I was a young probationary constable, in 1972, I lectured schoolchildren on the topic of ‘stranger danger’. My warnings were sincere; my stories drawn from actual cases of child abuse and abduction. In those days, crimes against children, while abhorrent, were rarely exposed in the public arena. As I spoke to my young and captive audience, I was mindful that the likelihood of any of them becoming a victim at the hands of a stranger, although possible, was highly unlikely. Nonetheless, the message was important. They need only remember one simple rule; you can’t trust people you don’t know.

  The children who listened intently to my stories will be adults themselves now, with children of their own. Sadly, too many of them, mostly women, will have learnt the hard way that there is a different kind of monster, someone who is no stranger to his victims. Someone the police lady failed to warn them about.

  As a naïve police officer in the 1970s, I was never trained in the area of domestic violence. General
ly police did not regard violence in the home as a serious problem. Police themselves reflected the attitudes of the wider community. I was taught that, at the slightest suggestion that you were going to apprehend the offending husband, the wife would turn and abuse you for interfering. Not all police adopted the attitude that it was simply a ‘domestic’ that could be resolved if the victim made some adjustment. Many of us could see it for the awful crime that it was.

  Thankfully others in the community were lobbying to have this insidious and often deadly behaviour recognised and outlawed.

  Australia’s first women’s refuge opened in 1972 in Glebe. Fully funded by the government, the Elsie Women’s Refuge ensured there was a safe haven for women and children who were victims of domestic violence. The Sydney Rape Crisis Centre also opened its doors, supporting victims of sexual assault regardless of whether they reported their victimisation to police or chose to remain silent.

  Silent victims no more! In the 1980s, police and the courts were encouraged and empowered by legislation to support the victim through the criminal justice process. Applications could be made to a court for an Apprehended Domestic Violence Order, prohibiting any behaviour that threatened, intimidated or harassed the victim. Anyone who breached the order could be arrested and brought before the courts to be dealt with according to law.

  As a coroner I have, for many years, dealt with the brutal reality of what can go horribly wrong when relationships fail. From a single victim of homicide to entire families murdered by those who profess to love them so much they can’t stand to live without them. Usually, at the end of their carnage, perpetrators turn the weapon on themselves to ensure they cannot be held to account in any mortal court.

  In one such instance, during an inquest, I listened to a recording of a frantic telephone call a young woman made to ‘000’. She was pleading with police to come quickly to help her as her estranged boyfriend was breaking into her home with a high-powered rifle. As she begged the police for assistance, you could hear the sounds of breaking glass. He gained entry to the lounge room, where her stepfather placed himself between his daughter and her assailant. A shot rang out and her protector was wounded and left for dead. A second shot was closely followed by the screams of her dog that she had been holding in her arms. The little dog had been shot in the leg. The policeman asked, ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘No’ she replied as she fell against the wall fatally wounded by the next bullet. The last shot heard on the tape was that of the perpetrator placing the rifle to his head.

  Like Libby Masters, this victim had been stalked over time by her ex lover. Again, like Libby Masters, she did not receive an appropriate response from police when she reported her ongoing victimisation only days before the final encounter.

  Given many women are stalked and intimidated by people they know, identifying the perpetrator is often easy. Marshalling sufficient evidence to support charging them is another story. It can be ‘word against word’ which accounts for the reluctance of some police to become involved. The concern is that, if it is not stopped, the level of violence can escalate resulting in the worst possible outcome for the victim, the police and at times the coroner.

  Chris Smith has done a marvellous job in highlighting the brutal reality of stalking. These awful individuals who seek to control and torture their victims by constantly watching, following and intimidating their prey, are not simply ‘pests’ or ‘jilted lovers’. They are highly motivated molesters who should be detected and dealt with.

  Chris is to be commended for his vigilance and determination in ensuring Libby’s perpetrator was exposed and prosecuted. It went far beyond investigative journalism. It is what I have come to expect from this award-winning journalist.

  Jacqueline Milledge

  Magistrate

  Acting State Coroner

  Dr Michael Kennedy

  My good friend Chris Smith should be congratulated for exposing the dreadful social consequences associated with stalking. Stalkers choose to terrify and inflict the most debilitating punishment on their fellow human beings.

  During almost 20 years as a detective in the NSW Police I dealt with numerous incidents of bullying and stalking—and witnessed the corrosive impact this horrible activity has on individuals, their families and the extended community. It's too easy to blame our legal system for this dreadful dilemma. From my standpoint, stalking is often a manifestation of an all-consuming patriarchy and aggressive competition, where every interaction must have a winner. Individuals become consumed with themselves, losing their community and collective responsibilities. Victims of stalking are often ignored by, or alienated from, their fellow human beings. Becoming involved in these matters requires a level of moral courage that is sadly missing in our aggressive and competitive society.

  Some years ago, a well known Sydney criminal stalked a former girlfriend, threw bricks through her windows, slashed her tyres, intimidated witnesses and rang her at all hours of night and day. He poisoned her pets and sprayed her garden with weed killer. The victim and her new partner received almost no assistance from neighbours—who did not want to get involved. I believe the harassment only stopped when a number of men, who looked distinctly like police, made their presence felt around the culprit’s car yard.

  A besotted admirer stalked a colleague of mine. She came to the police station in a short skirt … without knickers. She found his home phone number and address and tried to befriend his wife. My colleague was reduced to tears, asking for help before his marriage was ruined. I visited the woman who, fortunately, ceased the harassment. I believe the conversation between my colleague's wife and the female stalker also helped.

  The new girlfriend of her ex partner, also female, stalked a young woman serving in the Army. She stole her car and tipped sugar into the petrol tank. She poured milk inside the vehicle in the heat of summer—the smell was unbelievable. The harassment only stopped after my female colleagues, who understood the dynamics of these relationships, visited the pair and clearly explained what would happen if the stalking did not cease. A quick description of the initiation ceremony awaiting female prisoners in our jails was an effective deterrent.

  Stalking and bullying is not something peculiar to class, gender, religion or ethnicity. It is a plague upon our society with a corrosive impact on individuals that often manifests as other social and mental health issues.

  The legal system is owned by its citizen's and only fails if we allow it to. The police should be the last resort in these matters—not the first. Most stalkers and bullies have little courage when they are confronted face to face. Unfortunately, most victims feel so powerless that they don’t see this solution. Those who can and should help conveniently pretend to be oblivious to what's happening.

  New rules and tougher penalties will not solve this issue for most victims. Stalkers and bullies obviously do not feel seriously threatened by sanctions. We must develop a multi-faceted, community-based initiative to deal with this problem. Perpetrators should not be able to insulate themselves through the inaction of their family, friends or associates.

  Dr Michael Kennedy

  School of Social Sciences

  Bachelor of Policing

  University of Western Sydney

  PART ONE:

  TERROR

  1

  PRAYING FOR DAWN

  It was dusk on a Sunday night and, as Libby Masters opened the front door of her tiny cottage in Mosman, she could smell the stale January air escaping from her hallway. She closed the door behind her and was jolted by a sobering thought. She stared at the deadlock on the back of the door. She’d completely forgotten to change the locks—and she knew that Phillip Hopkins had retained the spare set of keys he’d cut for himself a week ago. All feelings of safety and resolution evaporated. She stood for what seemed like minutes, staring at that lock, knowing she was powerless to turn back time and correct her mistake.

  She turned from the door in slow motion, entering the be
droom without taking a breath. Her bag was filled with clothes she’d worn during her break down south. She wished she was still there, on Anthony’s veranda or sipping a coffee in Zucchero’s cafe bar. But the flashback to Melbourne, December 1995, to a place of comfort and security, was enough to jolt her out of her fear. Libby wasn’t running any longer. Her fright gave way to determination. It was all she had. She marched into every room in the house, talking out loud, ensuring she was alone and at peace. ‘No more!’ she said loudly, comforted by her own voice.

  There was much to be done before bedtime and it would be done, no matter how vulnerable his ghostly presence in the house made her feel. Most of the small pokey rooms, crammed with quaint, familiar furniture, needed tidying and cleaning. It was only when she came across remnants of her last violent episode with Hopkins that her momentum faltered for a moment. There were still fragments of glass and porcelain in the fibres of her lounge room rug, the result of one of his most recent outbursts.

  She continued with her task. The broom and dustpan got a good workout, as banging and scraping echoed through her home, ricocheting off the timber floor and high, ornate ceilings. The can of Mr Sheen was as good as empty after she set upon the table and bench tops. The bathroom and kitchen didn’t escape the treatment either. The vacuum cleaner was full to capacity after 30 minutes gliding around every room in the house. As much as performing a spring clean, Libby was eradicating the emotional mess that had dominated her life for so long. As she cleaned, she talked to reassure herself.

  After picking at a plate of cheese from the refrigerator, Libby rested on the lounge and turned on the television to catch the Sunday night movie. One channel was screening a horror movie and she couldn’t help but smile. She switched to find something more palatable and came across a familiar flick—just what she needed.