Ladykiller (24 page)

BOOK: Ladykiller

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Burrell told John Bowyer, one of the station’s technicians and a drinking buddy, nothing of his qualifications or previous jobs. ‘It was like he didn’t have a past,’ Bowyer said. ‘He was a loud person and made a drama out of any issue.’ Bowyer began lunching with Burrell on most days of the week, going to the races and to the Great Western Hotel after work. They also played in a social cricket team, although it was more of a drunks’ innings, with beer cans as markers, than a sporting fixture.

While Burrell was working at the station, a number of wallets went missing. Burrell even became a victim of the crime spree, claiming to have had his pay packet stolen. Well-meaning colleagues felt sorry for him, and they chipped in to replace Burrell’s wage for the week. Some later realised that he must have faked the theft in order to throw others off the scent.

At home, Susan was deeply unhappy and their marriage was falling apart. Bruce was a sloth. He smoked too much, at least a packet of cigarettes a day. ‘We began to live separate lives,’ Susan said. ‘I was heavily involved in the church and school and I wanted to leave him, but I believed marriage was forever and you couldn’t do that. I said to him it was not working and he knew it wasn’t.’

Bruce continued at the station until 1980, when the couple moved to the Sydney suburb of Kensington. Susan hoped things would improve, but they became worse and Burrell’s dishonesty escalated. Burrell reported a burglary at the Kensington house, from where he claimed items of jewellery and clothing valued at $11 000 were stolen. Susan could see no sign of a break-in, and she began to suspect her husband was involved in some way, but she did not have the courage, or energy, to challenge him. Following Burrell’s insurance claim for the full amount of the purported theft, Susan found some of the missing goods in a wardrobe. When she confronted her husband, he feigned ignorance and said, ‘I thought they’d been stolen.’

On another occasion, Susan asked her husband to deliver a large bag of second-hand clothing to a family friend. She later found them in his office. Burrell broke down when she challenged him. ‘You won’t like me anymore,’ he wailed. Susan was astonished. He was behaving like a four-year-old and it was obvious to her that Bruce ‘was a habitual liar’. ‘He had a habit of convincing himself that his lies were in fact the truth until faced with no other alternative but to admit his fabrication. I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life but I thought marriage was meant to be forever and I would just have to put up with it.’

Susan persisted in her unhappy marriage but thankfully there would be some salvation. Her husband was pursuing another woman, someone he had met at his new workplace, Media Advertising Services. Bruce’s new woman had more wealth and status than Susan Gerathy. Her name was Dallas

Kerry Whelan in the months before she disappeared.

Dorothy Davis with her grandchildren.

Bruce Burrell as a fifteen-year-old in the Goulburn rugby team (front row, holding the football).

Bruce Burrell at his farm Hillydale, on 26 May 1997, maintaining his innocence as police conducted a five-day search for the body of Kerry Whelan. (NEWSPIX)

Bruce Burrell and his wife, Dallas, with Bernie Whelan and his three children at the Whelan farm at Guyra, NSW in 1985.

Part one of ransom note received by Bernie Whelan one day into the disappearance of his wife Kerry, from the Parkroyal hotel in Parramatta, Sydney on 6 May 1997. (NEWSPIX)

Part two of ransom note demanding Bernie Whelan make delivery of a $1 million ransom. (NEWSPIX)

Officers from Taskforce Bellaire continue the search for clues of kidnap victim Kerry Whelan in Bungonia State Recreation Area, near Burrell’s farm, on 13 June 1997.(NEWSPIX)

Detective Inspector Dennis Bray, officer in charge of the Whelan and Davis murders, leaves the NSW Supreme Court in Sydney, after another legal twist in the case, on 19 April 2001. (NEWSPIX)