Ladykiller (30 page)

Bruce had told her he could double her money. A quarter of a million dollars, in thirty days. All she had to do was keep it ‘hush-hush’. Burrell insisted she not mention it to anyone and, ‘in particular’ Dallas. ‘And so by this time I was feeling a bit sick, I can tell you.’ Mrs Harvey was not fooled and she described it to Detective Bray as ‘a lot of bull’. ‘So I said, “Leave it with me”.’

Mrs Harvey remembered a past conversation with Dallas and Bruce, in which she had mentioned looking at investment opportunities because she would have money maturing— around the time he called her. ‘I don’t want to be unfair to the man but now that I think I know how his brain works, he would’ve heard it differently.’

Bray asked Mrs Harvey, ‘Jennette, what did you think when Bruce asked you for all that money?’

‘I couldn’t believe it. It just sounded so phoney, you know. I just couldn’t believe that he would do that to me. And actually there was something else I did mention to Bruce. I said: “What happens to my money if I give you the money?” And he said, “Well, I have to handle the money”. And I said: “Well, do you then give it back with a profit?” He said: “We’d turn it over” . . . Bruce said: “It takes thirty days and we’re all going to be rich”.’

Mrs Harvey was not going to be conned. ‘I got to the stage where I was sick and I just didn’t want to even talk to him anymore, you know. I honestly was disgusted. I was just so upset for my friends because in a situation like this I’m not going to tell them. I’m not going to ring up Dallas and say, “Hey, Bruce rang me up and said not to tell you, but you know you’re in this diamond thing. I wouldn’t do that”.’ Mrs Harvey’s words spilled out, urgent and compelling in her description of Burrell’s greed. The video footage had transfixed the court. Reporters wrote feverishly in their notebooks.

‘I mean, I didn’t know that Dallas was so unhappy with Bruce,’ Mrs Harvey said. ‘Because she’s such a little Briton . . . she just kept up the façade for so long. And just, you know, had I realised that, maybe I might’ve thought differently, but it never ever occurred to me. Actually I think I tried to put it out of my mind.’

Bray interrupted Mrs Harvey: ‘You might think I’m being intrusive into your personal life, but would it be fair to say that you were reasonably wealthy at Christmas 1993?’

‘I’m not very wealthy,’ Mrs Harvey said.

Bray rephrased his question. ‘Did you have the ability to get a hold of that sort of money?’

Mrs Harvey relaxed. ‘I’ve put $450 000 into this little farm which I was sort of left as a wreck, you know. My husband had a whim to buy it and do a couple of potato crops on it, then the poor thing died two weeks after and I was left with it. And I was no farmer. I am now.’ She sounded proud of herself.

On the screen, Mrs Harvey handed Bray a Commonwealth bank document from the Townsville branch. Dated 22 October 1993, it was a deposit form for $190 193.89. She also showed him a Telecom Bonds document, which matured on 1 November 1994, with a payment amount of $200 000. ‘There were other things but they weren’t, like big, you know,’ she said.

‘All right,’ said Bray. ‘Was there anything else that he said to you that you can recall on that telephone call apart from diamonds?’

‘Only diamonds.’

‘But was he insistent that you not tell Dallas?’

‘Absolutely. And I couldn’t understand either why he’d start putting all this cash in a safe in the unit but he’s living with Dallas and then he wants me to come in on it and not tell Dallas.’

Bray turned to the issue of Burrell’s past behaviour. Mrs Harvey said she had seen him transform instantly, from charming and jovial to angry and violent. The reporters covering the coronial inquest were surprised. In all their dealings with Burrell, he had been utterly calm and personable, if slightly pompous.

Mrs Harvey said he could be great company and loved a laugh. But he had another side. ‘For example, I think the first time I saw it was actually when the shearing was going on,’ Mrs Harvey said. Dallas and Burrell were visiting the Harveys on their sheep and cattle station. While Mr Harvey was tending to his 4000 head of cattle, Burrell lent a hand with the sheep, but soon he became angry with Jennette and Dallas, who were helping him. ‘He was screaming and everybody was standing in the wrong place,’ Jennette said on the tape. ‘He was aggressive, um, very abusive . . . we were all helping him and he was abusing us. He was screaming at everybody.’

In the courtroom, Burrell was no longer looking at the screen. He glanced around, perhaps hoping someone else was uninterested. But even his sisters were hanging on Mrs Harvey’s every word.

‘The only other thing I saw, well, I didn’t see, actually I heard. I was in the house at Hillydale and Shirley and I were standing sort of between the dining and lounge area and I heard this dreadful, dreadful noise out in the yard and it was such a shock. I said to Shirley: “What is that?” And she said: “That’s Bruce carrying on”. And I said: “Well, what’s wrong with him?” And she said: “He does that”. And he was completely and utterly out of control.’

‘What was the noise?’ Detective Bray asked.

‘Just screaming and yelling and abusive language,’ Mrs Harvey said.

‘How long would that go on for?’

‘It only went on for a few minutes, you know, because, you know, Shirl said: “Quick, come on”. Then we sort of walked to the other side of the house and the next thing Dallas came in and she went in to the kitchen and started preparing food and I thought, they don’t want to discuss it. And so I didn’t discuss it but I thought, how often does she have to put up with that? It was dreadful.’

‘Has Mr Burrell been up here to see you at all since?’ Bray enquired.

‘No, always was coming. But I woke a long time ago to actually that Bruce could not have been working, you know.’

Mrs Harvey clearly felt at ease with Bray. She was in for a chinwag. She was enjoying herself. Years on from her testimony, the public gallery in the court was loving it too, smiling at her old-fashioned phrases. ‘I mean, you know, I also mentioned to Bruce: “How you going?” And of course he would always say: “I’m in another business. I’ve got a partnership and blah, blah”. The next thing he’s gone and I don’t know how many he had and then it was always the freelancing business. But I woke up that he couldn’t possibly have been doing anything.’

Bray began to bring the interview to a close. ‘Now, on a personal matter, I believe you’ve got an illness unfortunately.’

‘It’s cancer. I’ve had half a lung removed and I had six weeks of radiation and then it got into my throat, up here,’ she said, pointing to her neck. ‘And then it went from aggressive to galloping so the radiation would no longer work.’

‘Have you been diagnosed at all, how long you have to live?’

‘Four to eight months at this stage but I’m planning to be here for the Olympics,’ she said and jutted her chin to the camera. The Olympics were three years away. Jennette would be dead within five months of the interview—long before the videotape was played in court.

‘Is there anything further you may be able to tell me that may assist me?’

‘No, excepting . . .’ Mrs Harvey began, ‘that Bruce was very unreasonable and demanding towards Dallas. And I often wonder, you know, I wonder now, now that we’re all thinking differently, you know, I’m wondering was she scared of him or how scared was she of him? Because I believe that, I mean she works very, very hard. And he would be home and she would work hard all day and walk in the house and he would say: “What’s for dinner?” Which to me, if she’s the provider he should be doing something.’

‘Sure, certainly,’ Bray said.

‘And he did a couple of peculiar things which rocked the family. Like turning up with some brand new car that she didn’t want. You know, it makes me sick to think . . .’ Mrs Harvey’s voice trailed off . She knew that if she had gone into the diamond scheme with Burrell, she too would most likely have mysteriously disappeared.

‘Thanks very much, Mrs Harvey. The interview is completed.’

In the courtroom, Detective Bray pressed the ‘Stop’ button on the video recorder. The room was silent. Burrell’s sister, Tonia Pai, had her head in her hands. Burrell sat with his arms folded. Counsel Assisting the Coroner Mark Hobart indicated there would be further questions for Burrell after lunch.

Hobart went immediately on the offensive when the court reconvened at 2 p.m. ‘Are you in a habit of perjuring yourself ?’ he said.

‘No. No,’ Burrell replied.

For the next hour, Hobart went in hard, a rapid delivery of questions. Burrell remained calm and defiant, his arms folded and his chin tilted upwards. His answers were routinely uncooperative: ‘On my legal advice I can’t answer that question.’

Hobart accused him of preying on Mrs Harvey around the same time he was trying to purchase a waterfront unit from Juliet Grimm. ‘What I suggest to you, sir, is that around June 8, 1994, you were desperate to get hold of large amounts of money and you decided that you would prey on elderly wealthy women.’

‘On my legal advice I won’t answer that question.’

Burrell refused to answer, even when Hobart showed him bank statements with his signature on them. His obstinacy infuriated Hobart, who at one point half shouted: ‘You cannot answer that question on the grounds it could incriminate you, even though that’s the version you gave to the police.’ Burrell maintained his indifference ‘. . . on my legal advice . . .’

For the Whelan and Davis families, Burrell’s attitude was maddening. They had waited five and seven years, respectively, for some explanation of what happened to their missing Kerry and Dottie. Unfortunately they knew they would not get one at this hearing. This was Burrell’s opportunity to proclaim his innocence to the world, his chance to deny he was a conman, a kidnapper of wealthy women and a killer. Mostly, he kept his mouth shut.

‘What I suggest to you is that you approached Dorothy Davis after you were rebuffed by Mrs Harvey to obtain a large amount of money to help you purchase 34 Marine Parade.’ Hobart demanded, ‘What’s your answer?’

Very softly, Burrell said, ‘On my legal advice, I won’t answer that question.’ He shrank from the constant barrage of questions and wrote in his black folder, a response that might have signified denial, deep discomfort or nervousness.

‘Is there some reason you’re writing these questions down, because you know what your answer will be, don’t you?’ Hobart asked.

‘I was just making a note, Mr . . .’ Burrell said, looking angry. At other times during the onslaught, Burrell cocked his head to the left and frowned, or chewed on the arm of his spectacles.

Hobart was relentless. ‘Your wife was doing quite well in her business and you were becoming more embittered towards her, weren’t you? You were frustrated at that time, I suggest to you, sir, because you weren’t contributing to the marriage, financially. What do you say about that?’

‘I’m sorry, was there a question in that?’ Burrell said with contempt.

Hobart resumed his attack: ‘I suggest your wife said you were subject to massive mood swings. What do you say about that?’

‘On my legal advice I won’t answer.’

‘You’re a person, I suggest, sir, who is easily able to swing from being urbane and pleasant to being violent.’

Burrell leant back in his chair, put his glasses back on and made a note.

Under the
New South Wales Coroner’s Act
, Burrell was entitled to exercise his rights not to answer but his silence impressed few. So far he had refused to answer seventy-seven questions. Hobart could only enjoy watching him squirm.

Hobart launched a final salvo: ‘You were desperate for funds and you decided you would prey on elderly, wealthy women, didn’t you, Mr Burrell?’

The atmosphere in the court was electric in its silence, disturbed only when Mark Hobart spoke, or his subject answered.

‘I put to you that when Dorothy Davis threatened to tell your wife about the loan, you felt yourself in a desperate position.’

‘On my legal advice—’ Burrell began, but Hobart hammered in the next question.

‘That when Mrs Davis demanded the money back from the loan she so kindly gave you, you murdered her, didn’t you?’

A flush stained Burrell’s neck. He shook his head once and said: ‘On my legal advice I will not answer that question.’

‘What I suggest to you, sir,’ Hobart said, ‘is that you enticed Dorothy Davis around to your residence on May 30, you disabled her and you took her down to the Southern Highlands. I put to you, sir, that you had disposed of her. You killed her and you had to go back down again on May 31 to further deal with the disposal of her body.’

The public gallery sat stunned at Hobart’s interrogation. Burrell shook his head.

Hobart delivered his final accusation: ‘You, sir, I suggest, are a conman and a predator of women, particularly women who are wealthy. What do you say about that?’

The words hung in the air for a moment, like a lit cracker. The eyes of the whole room were fixed upon Burrell and the ugliness of this accusation. A predator of women.

Bruce had his head down, practically in his lap, his glasses on. He looked like a man who wanted desperately to be out of there. Astonishingly, considering the potency of the words hurled at him, Burrell made no attempt to deny the allegation. Almost meekly, he said, ‘My legal advice is that I won’t answer that question.’

It was past four o’clock and a triumphant Hobart told the coroner he was finished with Burrell.

‘You will be required at the Whelan inquest,’ Abernethy said, glaring down at Burrell, who replied, ‘Yes I know about that.’

Radio and television reporters dashed from the court to feed their news bulletins but none of the compelling testimony could be reported. The
Coroner’s Act
prohibits news organisations from publishing questions which have not been answered for legal reasons. The story was reduced to a news brief.

The next day, after an application by the
Sydney Morning
Herald
, Abernethy granted the media permission to publish the questions and Mr Burrell’s answers, or lack thereof. ‘Quite easily, the public interest outweighs the particular interests of the witness,’ Abernethy told the court.