Underbelly 4 Read online

  A young terrier, Lachlan McCulloch, and the drug list he pieced together that was to expose police corruption.

  She had to stay in the back seat of the two-door sports car. He had a new obsession in the front seat – his guns.

  SENIOR CONSTABLE Jason Striegher was stationed at the Epping Traffic Operations Group and was rostered to work a 7am to 3pm that day.

  He followed his usual routine of grabbing his utility belt, handcuffs, extendable baton, capsicum spray and six-shot Smith & Wesson revolver. He looked at the pistol and read the serial number before writing down the last three digits – 903 – in the station registry.

  He collected his equipment box containing a street directory, portable radio, penalty notice books, preliminary breath test kit and traffic equipment. There was one other item in the box – a ballistic vest.

  After finishing some paper work he walked out to his unmarked white Ford about 8.30am to begin the day’s patrols.

  He put his equipment box on the front passenger seat and opened the boot to put the cumbersome vest in a special carrier fitted in the car.

  The dayshift patrol, unlike the afternoon and night shift, usually work alone, or in police terminology – ‘one-up’.

  Jason Striegher was not worried, he knew from experience there was little danger to traffic police in busy Melbourne during the middle of the day.

  But the events of the next few hours were to show that police were always in danger and that even a routine traffic patrol could not be taken for granted. It began as a normal shift on a normal day. At mid-morning, while out on the road, he heard a police broadcast to all units to look for a suspect’s car believed to have been involved in shooting incidents.

  He jotted down the registration number on his left hand.

  One of the advantages of working in the Epping district was that Striegher lived close by. Around 11.40am he popped home to make some sandwiches. He took his portable radio with him and heard a broadcast that indicated the wanted car was heading his way.

  He drove down Rosanna Road and saw the green sports car being followed by a marked police car. The traffic cop turned on his flashing lights and siren and U-turned to fall in behind.

  The marked car passed the Lexus and the sports car pulled over.

  Senior Constable Striegher jumped from his car. His ballistic vest was still in its secure holder locked in the boot. It was far too late to grab it.

  By the time Striegher was opening his car door Scarborough was already on the move with a gun in his hand. He said to Karen, who was still in the back seat, This is it. It’s all over.’

  He raised his .357 magnum towards the policeman. Striegher unclipped his holster and started to draw his service revolver, shouting ‘he’s got a gun.’

  Police say that in a gunfight with handguns most shots miss the mark. Even though Scarborough was pointing the gun at the policeman the odds were still that he would miss. But he didn’t. Senior Constable Striegher was hit in the chest with the very first shot. The bullet entered the left side of his chest and burst out the other side. ‘I thought I was going to be killed.’

  Even though he was seriously injured Striegher responded as he had been trained. He did not turn and run, he kept his eyes on the gunman and moved back, using his police car as cover.

  But Scarborough clearly wanted to finish the injured man. ‘I could see him moving towards me. He was walking, he was also dodging and weaving from side to side. He had both of his arms fully extended in front of him, holding the firearm with both hands.

  ‘As he was walking towards me I fired one or two shots at this person.’

  The policeman couldn’t take a two-handed stance to fire. He had to use his left arm to hold his wounded chest and stuck a finger in the exit wound to staunch the blood.

  Scarborough was clearly trying to finish the wounded man. It was later described as like ‘stalking prey.’ He kept coming and fired two more shots. ‘It looked to me as if he was chasing me trying to get into a position to get a better shot at me,’ the injured policeman was to say.

  Striegher was fighting for his life as blood seeped from his wounds, but despite severe internal injuries he fired at least another two shots.

  It was like a movie scene. The men kept firing at each other and Striegher thought they both must be close to being out of ammunition.

  He then heard a shot from his left and saw Scarborough turn and fire twice more. Striegher had one shot left and he wanted to make it count. He bent down and used the boot of his car to steady his arm. He fired from about four metres. To this day he doesn’t know if it hit the gunman.

  Out of ammunition, he moved to the side of his police car and ducked for cover. He was trying to use his speed-loader to reload but he still had to use his left arm to hold his wound.

  He then heard another policeman yell ‘He’s down!’ SERGEANT Simon Delaney was at the Heidelberg station when he heard a police radio broadcast that there had been a shooting incident involving the driver of a dark coupe. He made a mental note but it was not a matter to concern him. ‘There was no suggestion that there was any connection between this vehicle and my area.’

  But, just after midday, police in the station were told the car had been spotted on the Eastern Freeway heading towards them.

  The divisional van with two uniformed police and an unmarked car with four detectives left the station to try and intercept the gunman. Delaney also jumped in a marked car to join the search.

  He was at the corner of Burgundy Street and Rosanna Road when he saw the suspect car go past. He followed along Rosanna Road and when the car began to slow he slipped in front and stopped at an angle to block the possibility of a U-turn escape.

  Delaney saw Scarborough jump from the Lexus and raise his gun. The sergeant used his car as a shield and drew his revolver.

  He could see the gunman focus and fire at Senior Constable Striegher. He watched the man stalk Striegher, then he saw him turn and point the gun at him.

  ‘I had absolutely no doubt in my mind that this person was about to kill me. I then fired my revolver at this male and continued firing until he fell to the ground.

  ‘I am not sure how many shots I fired. It was certainly more than two and could have been up to six.’ He said the whole incident took only fifteen seconds.

  The fact that Scarborough turned on the other policeman almost certainly saved Striegher’s life.

  The four Heidelberg detectives had been out conducting early morning raids in Reservoir and had already arrested two men that day. They were back in their office when they got a call at 12.10pm with the report that someone had seen a man with a gun in a green Toyota sports car. They all hopped in the station’s gold coloured Holden station wagon to try and find him.

  The drove straight into the gunfight. Senior Detective Gerard Gaul yelled out ‘Police. Don’t move!’

  ‘He (Scarborough) continued to fire his firearm at the uniform member. I believed at that instant that if I did not fire my revolver at this offender that the uniform member would be killed.

  I took deliberate aim at this offender and then discharged one round … but I am unable to say if the round struck him or not.

  ‘As soon as I discharged my revolver the offender stopped firing and stopped advancing. The offender appeared unsteady on his feet and staggered backwards a few steps towards his vehicle before slumping on the footpath.’

  Senior Detective Michael Hall ran to the wounded gunman. Even though he had been shot, Scarborough still wanted to talk. ‘Why don’t you finish the job? Why didn’t you kill me?’ he demanded.

  When he was asked his name he said, ‘I’m in too much pain to remember.’

  Hall kicked the magnum away from the injured man but when Scarborough was searched police found another small, silver handgun in his pocket.

  Jason Striegher was wounded on both sides of the chest. When the bullets had hit him it was as if he had been punched and winded, he was to say later.

&nbs
p; He could feel the rush of blood from the wounds, then he felt the pain. He was conscious but when he looked up he saw what he described as ‘the terror’ in the eyes of the colleagues who were helping him. He knew then he was in serious trouble.

  Ambulance Officer Anthony Coffey was the first to treat Striegher, who told him he had a burning pain through his chest and was deeply distressed. He ripped the distressed policeman’s blood-soaked shirt open to tend to the wounds.

  When he was placed in the back of the ambulance, Striegher didn’t want to waste time answering questions. He said, ‘Get this old bus moving.’

  As ambulance officers worked on the injured gunman at the scene he kept yelling, ‘It took four of you to put me down, why don’t you finish me off, put a bullet in my head?’

  In the emergency room at the Austin Hospital Scarborough would still not shut up. ‘Don’t help me, I’m scum. Go on, laugh at me. Just shoot me and finish me off. It took four to one, that’s fair, four to one.’

  He started to chant, ‘I won, I won, I did it for fun. Four to one and I won.’

  He was shot in the arm and the body. It is still not known which of the three police who fired at him actually hit him. One of the police bullets cannot be tested to see which gun it came from. It remains wedged in one of Scarborough’s vertebrae.

  If a bullet misses its target it is still potentially lethal. Police found that one bullet from the gunfight went through the window of a nearby unit, piercing a curtain, wall and a shower screen before ending up in the shower.

  Another bullet passed through the main bedroom of a house and ended up stuck in a wall. More bullet holes were found in houses and a garage in the area. One travelled three hundred metres down the road. Two police cars crashed as the drivers tried to avoid being exposed to the gun battle.

  When Scarborough was out of danger he was interviewed by members of the Asian Squad in the Austin Hospital. He gave his occupation as ‘compulsive gambler’.

  Even though he knew he would be charged with attempted murder and other serious charges he still wanted to talk about his car. ‘A Lexus SC 4000, fully imported. Nothing can beat it, except for a F50 Ferrari and a Lamborghini.’

  During his formal interview he was shown a picture of the car. ‘Very nice, eh?’ he boasted.

  MORE than a year after the shooting many of those involved were still suffering flashbacks and nightmares.

  Christopher Dunn, the driver who baited Scarborough that he had run out of bullets, delayed his planned return to study at Melbourne University. He became isolated and suffers anxiety when driving, fearing he may be shot.

  Seven police involved in the arrest and shooting of Scarborough all reported stress-related problems after the Heidelberg gunfight.

  One of the detectives found that when she did any police training involving scenarios with offenders armed with guns she suffered flashbacks. She has since quit the force after fourteen years service.

  The policeman who cradled the injured Jason Striegher on the ground at Heidelberg still has difficulty sleeping.

  A detective who went to the scene found he was becoming increasingly worried that his policewoman wife, who was pregnant at the time, could be shot while on duty.

  Another has had disturbed sleep and is now worried he could be shot. He has started smoking again.

  One policeman has yet to rid himself of feelings of self doubts because he did not fire at Scarborough during the gunfight.

  Jason Striegher has made a good recovery from his physical wounds (he lost his gall bladder and part of his liver) and is determined to keep a positive outlook to life and his job.

  But he doesn’t swim or surf as much as he once did because he is self-conscious about the large L-shaped scar on his stomach.

  He now wears a light undercover-style ballistic vest when out on patrol. It irritates the scar tissue, reminding him daily of how close he was to death.

  Justice Bernie Teague of the Supreme Court decided that the cause of all this, Tom Scarborough, should pay compensation for what he had done. The gunman’s assets, including his portfolio of 720 AMP, ten thousand Crown and a thousand Woodside Petroleum shares were seized. Then came the final blow: his fast car was sold for $33,655.

  He was left with nothing except a sentence of twenty years with a minimum of fifteen after pleading guilty to three counts of attempted murder and drug trafficking.

  EVEN now the question still remains, why did Tom Scarborough declare war on Melbourne?

  Was he determined to commit ‘suicide by cop?’

  While he was lying in his hospital bed a policeman asked him, ‘Did you want to die?’

  He answered: ‘No, everyone wants to live … why would I want to die when I’ve got a car only a Lamborghini can beat?’

  CHAPTER 4

  A Sour Apple that Turned Rotten

  The ‘lifestyle’ was the major crime squad’s notorious work practices – referred to as ‘work hard, play hard.’ At least Hicks got it half right.

  FOR an astute and experienced criminal Laurence Joseph Sumner was beginning to get sloppy. A self-made expert in the lucrative amphetamines industry, he was to make a mistake worthy of a novice and would soon pay the price.

  Sumner had come to crime relatively late but had proved a quick and enthusiastic learner. He was rumored to have been involved in planting a bomb under the car of the Melbourne Godfather, Liborio Benvenuto, in 1983 and to have provided the gun used to kill Giuseppe Arena outside his Bayswater home in 1987.

  In 1991 he was on bail over an amphetamines lab when police learned he was driving a stolen car and was silly enough to park it at night in the driveway of his double-storey house in Avondale Heights, an outer-western suburb of Melbourne.

  Drug squad detectives went to the house one night to find the stolen car so they could revoke his bail. As expected, the car was in the drive. But there was a bonus for the police.

  As a drug squad detective, Wayne Strawhorn, walked up the driveway he could hear an industrial pump and see water pouring out of a hose poking from the garage. His experienced nose picked up the odour of amphetamine chemicals through the slightly opened door.

  Some drug squad operations can take years of detailed investigation, while others can be laughably easy. This was one of the latter. The police simply walked up, opened the garage, grabbed their man and a truckload of evidence.

  In the vernacular Sumner was ‘done cold’. The case was watertight and the exhibits were under lock and key – or so the detectives thought.

  Sumner was experienced enough to know that even the best lawyer could not save him this time. What he needed was a break, and it came from another serious criminal who said he had information to sell that would destroy the police case.

  It is believed Sumner paid several thousand dollars for the red-hot information. He was told to demand that all the drugs seized in his case should be re-tested.

  The results, he was assured, might surprise.

  CLOSE to Melbourne Airport, off Mickleham Road, police have a property, known as Attwood, used for training dogs and horses and to teach high-speed driving techniques. But, in 1988, speed of a different sort found its way to Attwood. That year police had to find a place to store volatile chemicals – such as used to make amphetamines – well away from populated areas. The training area at Attwood was considered, if not ideal, at least adequate.

  Seized drugs were first tested at the Forensic Science Laboratory and then transported to Attwood where they were kept in six old, locked shipping containers.

  The keys were kept in the drug squad where they were supposed to be safe. The man in charge of them was Senior Detective Kevin Hicks, a former major crime squad detective. Indeed, Hicks bought new locks and keys in April, 1992, allegedly to improve security.

  When Sumner’s lawyer called for the drugs to be re-analysed the prosecution thought it was, at best, just a shot in the dark, but it proved to be perfectly aimed.

  What was found to be sitti
ng in drums and containers in Attwood bore no resemblance to the materials tested earlier by Forensic Science.

  Containers filled with methylamphetamine had mysteriously turned into Coca Cola.

  Ten kilograms of an ingredient used in the manufacture of speed, red phosphorous, had been replaced with red tile grout. Puzzlingly, the locks were secure and there were no signs of a break-in.

  It was an inside job.

  In June, 1992, police launched an internal inquiry to find out who switched the drugs. They found a glove impression on one of the exhibits which suggested a burglary had taken place, but they could not find if the drugs had been switched at the Forensic Science Laboratory or Attwood.

  Despite the finding Sumner was found guilty based on the original analysis. But it would take another eight years to prove who was the traitor in the camp.

  AROUND the time police realised they were being sold out from within a young detective received a message at the drug squad that would change his life and put him in the uncomfortable role of whistle blower.

  Lachlan McCulloch was not a detective of the old school. But the former private schoolboy who had drifted into policing found he had a real flair for catching criminals.

  An accomplished undercover operative, he was to infiltrate the infamous Pettingill drug family as a yuppie who wanted drugs to sell to his friends on the ski slopes. His work resulted in the arrest of Kath Pettingill and her son, Trevor.

  The job had not yet worn McCulloch down, although he had seen more than his share of action. He was commended for bravery when he saved a child from a dangerous and mentally unbalanced man in September, 1990, and had seen a colleague shoot a man dead in front of him in St Kilda.

  But, to McCulloch, the drug squad was the pinnacle of his career. It would also prove to be his undoing.

  The message he received on 8 April, 1992, was from the warehouse manager at a chemical supply company. The manager was suspicious over a series of purchases of chemicals and laboratory equipment made over the previous five weeks.

  McCulloch went out to the Mulgrave company and asked for the dockets. It took only a quick scan confirmed his suspicions. Whoever was buying the gear was setting up an amphetamines lab.