BOB CAMPBELL'S WAR
Chapter 3 Top level trouble
On Friday, December 18, 1981, one of Campbell's partners in crime fighting, Brian Cook, handed him a ticking time bomb. It might have appeared to be merely a crumpled piece of paper. But after Cook had told him
just what it was, Campbell could hardly contain himself. "I've got him," he thought. He could see Lewis being charged and the Government being implicated. After all, it was the Government which had appointed Lewis.
At the centre of what had happened was Sir Edward Houghton Lyons, a close confidante and business advisor of Premier Bjelke-Petersen as well as also being close to Commissioner Lewis. A thin little man of 67 with
myopic looks, he was nevertheless enormously powerful, had been made a trustee of the National Party, and was known as Top Level Ted because of his habit of saying he would deal with matters at the top level. Like Lewis, he even took his address to new heights. He lived in a house with a commanding view and gave his address to police as Holland Park Heights (Lewis lived at Bardon, also with a view. He chose to describe his address as Paddington
Heights.).
Lyons had been in the news earlier that year when his friend Bjelke-Petersen had insisted at Cabinet, against strong opposition, that Lyons should be appointed head of the State Totalisator Board, a position which he
went on to use to his personal advantage by placing massive bets on credit, which was against the rules of the TAB. Racing Minister Russ Hinze later revealed that he was only given his portfolio on the condition that he made
Lyons the TAB chief.
In Parliament Bob Gibbs called Lyons a "Rasputin of financial circles" who had an "unnatural, almost demon-like influence over the Premier". The Premier publicly revealed that it had been Top Level Ted who had arranged
the money for the party to field candidates in every electorate at the previous election.
A patrol car out on the South-Eastern Freeway in the early hours of that Friday morning noticed a car weaving. It was not any old car either. It was a Rolls Royce. Sitting behind the wheel, well over the limit, was Top Level
Ted who had been having a few Christmas drinks at TAB HQ that night with, among others, the Premier and the Police Commissioner. Lyons refused to take a roadside breath test. Back at the Woolloongabba station his breath test resulted in a reading of 120 milligrams of alcohol per 100 millilitres of blood, or, in Australian terms, 0.12- well over the then legal limit of 0.08. The breathalyser paperwork was complete at 2.30 am on the Friday morning. Five minutes later he was officially arrested. A notice was issued to Lyons not to drive for 24 hours.
Then Lyons asked for a phone. "I want to call the Commissioner," he slurred. It was the sort of ploy or threat sometimes made by vague acquaintances of VIPs. But Lyons unerringly dialled Lewis's silent home phone
number. After announcing where he was he said: "They say I'm full. I'm not, Terry, I'm not full." The phone was passed to Sgt 1/c Len Bracken who told Lewis: "He's as full as a fowl." Lewis told him: "Other than my mother he's
about the only bloke in the world I'd like to do something for...take him home."
"He's pissed," said Bracken.
A second, more senior officer was told by Lewis: "You know he's the Premier's right hand man. Surely you can do something for him." The officer judged from "the tone that the commissioner was seeking to have the charge
dropped if possible".
After the call the constable involved was told to 'forget it'. He screwed up the documentation and threw it in a rubbish bin. And Top Level Ted was allowed to drive his Rolls Royce home illegally and under police escort - presumably just in case anyone was written off by the over-the-top-level driver.
Lewis opened his diary and wrote: "At 2am Sir Edward Lyons rang re detention for suspected UIL (under the influence of liquor). Spoke to Cons Carmichael, Insp D Squasconi and Sgt L Bracken."
There were a lot of incensed police at the station that night. Any other motorist would have been detained and forced to appear in court some seven hours later, hungover and bleary from lack of sleep. One of the cops,
Brian Cook, was incensed enough to retrieve the documentation from the rubbish bin. He quietly put it in his pocket and later handed it to Campbell.
Campbell went to the officer in charge of the South Brisbane District and told him he wished to make a complaint. "I have information which would suggest an offence has been committed under Section 132 of the Criminal
Code." The inspector listened. But he made no notes. He said the commissioner would appoint someone to investigate the complaint - against the commissioner.
Campbell knew it was highly likely that nothing would happen. So he phoned Kev Hooper and later drove over to his electorate office to pass on the documentation. Because he had been ultra-cautious, it was the first time he
had actually met 'Big Vinnie' or 'Buckets' as Hooper was known. Kev Hooper, a giant but affable man, phoned Ric Allen on the Sunday Mail.
Next day Lewis was busy, despite it being a Saturday. "Spoke to Sgt 1/c L Bracken, Sgt 1/c C. Chant and Hon R. Hinze re detention of Sir Edward Lyons," he recorded in his diary.
That day a story was put out that Lyons had been released because he had to go on an urgent business trip. But Campbellknew better than that. He had a copy of the document that showed Lyons had actually been arrested
and once a person had been arrested he had, by law, to be charged. That had not happened.
And that night, at a police Christmas party, Bracken warned Lewis the matter was going to hit the fan because the Sunday Mail was running the story on the front page.
The story received huge page one treatment next day. Commissioner Lewis was quoted as confirming that Lyons had not been arrested or charged. He denied any cover up. "Sir Edward had to fly to Sydney on urgent business but he will be charged and will appear in court on the drink driving offence," said Lewis.
Attorney-General and Justice Minister Sam Doumany promised an inquiry. But Kev Hooper knew this was unlikely to reveal the truth. "Nothing short of a Royal Commission will satisfy me or any reasonable member of the
public," he said.
It was not until 4pm that Sunday that the officer who had pulled up Lyons was told to initiate proceedings for a
summons.
The following day Campbell was heartened to read a Courier Mail story quoting the president of the Bar Association, Bill Pincus QC, saying: "No satisfactory explanation has been given and I am deeply disturbed at the evidence that the ordinary process of the law was not followed." Nothing less than an open inquiry could satisfy the public, he said.
But the same story carried a quote from union president Col Chant saying two of the police officers involved had assured him no threat had been held out to them and no pressure had been brought to bear on them.
And then Police Minister Russ Hinze, who rubbished the idea that the commissioner could have been involved in bringing pressure to bear on the officers, said there would certainly not be any sort of departmental investigation.
Three days before Christmas, the time of goodwill to all men, Campbell was summoned to the 12th floor of Police HQ. There he found himself being interviewed by two senior officers of the Internal Investigations Section, a superintendent and an inspector. "Will the interview be strictly confidential?" he asked.
The superintendent assured him it would. "Are you prepared to investigate my complaints even if it means you might have to investigate your superiors?" he pressed. The superintendent said he would carry on no matter who
was involved. Campbell said he would prefer to prepare a statement and was promised as much time as he needed.
There was just one other thing: "The Commissioner has directed me to instruct you to move on transfer on January 4 1982," said the superintendent.
"Why are you raising this when your relationship to me should be that of an officer investigating my complaint?" asked Campbell, realising that wheels had been turning furiously after his initial complaint. The superintendent said that if Campbell did not move on January 4 he would be charged.
Campbell decided he was going to get nowhere with his complaint and walked out. He rang the commissioner's office and asked to see Lewis. He explained what his call was about. That afternoon he received a call from the
office saying the commissioner was not prepared to see him.
On the 23rd, as Campbell was starting duty at 2pm, he was called in to the district officer's room and told Lewis was waiting for him at HQ. Campbell went straight to Makerston St and was ushered in to see Lewis. He
detailed how each of his transfers had occurred. Lewis said he was unfamiliar with Campbell's background but promised on his word of honour that Campbell would not be railroaded out of the force.
Campbell was learning: he recorded this conversation on a small recorder hidden by his police shirt.
Next day Campbell's mate in the store rang him to say Col Chant had told him not to be associated with Campbell in any way because Lewis knew it was Campbell who had contacted Hooper about Lyons. Chant had told him that Cook had handed over the breathalyser certificate.
The same day Campbell heard that the officer who had previously made threats against him had mentioned to someone that "Campbell will be leaving the force in a big way". This was force slang which indicated an impending
accident or the discovery of planted drugs.
Campbell took dramatic precautions at home. The Campbells were living in a siege mentality. He was only too
well aware of what had happened to other cops who had spoken out of turn or gone against the system. A car could be set on fire under the house. A loved pet could be shot. And plenty of people had died mysteriously over the years.
Campbell and his wife drummed it into the children that they weren't allowed out of the yard. Even though their eldest boy was now nine, he wasn't allowed to go to the shop unless mum or dad was with him. The other children weren't allowed to play around the front or go anywhere near the front of the yard. They weren't allowed to open the door to anybody at all, whether they knew them or not. Even their own grandmother was refused entry one morning.
The area under the house had been burglar-proofed and was kept locked. The only doors and windows open were the ones where the family happened to be. They got used to locking up behind them as they moved around the house. Whenever a car pulled up somewhere in the street Campbell woke automatically. He moved over to the window in the darkness and checked to see who it was and whether anyone was coming towards their home. It became routine.
He had never carried a gun in his life. Now he kept one with him all the time as a matter of routine. And he slept with it under his mattress. The fear? Not the unknown. Not honest to goodness crims. But crooked cops - they were who he was terrified of.
The bludger at the station had also told him 'they' were even watching the people who played tennis with him.
Campbell decided to change the focus of his attack. Justice Minister Sam Doumany had promised an inquiry into the Lyons affair. Doumany was not one of Bjelke-Petersen's National Party Ministers but a member of the coalition government's Liberal Party which portrayed itself as keeping the Nationals honest. Could he be trusted? Campbell decided he ought not to wait for things to happen. He had to make them happen. He drew up an 11-page statement outlining his entire police career and only touching on Lyons in passing. He had it witnessed by a JP. To a background of Christmas carols and peace on earth, he completed it on Christmas Eve. It was a
time for others to be merry but Campbell worried about what he was doing all through the festivities.
On December 27 Lewis was again busy. The commissioner wrote in his diary: "Lunch with Hon Hinze. Spoke to him re...S/c Campbell preparing report to Chief Justice re abuse of office; Mr Hooper to produce policeman
before Parliament."
On December 29 Campbell typed out a two-page letter to accompany the statement he had drawn up. He promised Doumany a full statement on the Lyons affair if confidentiality was assured. "I believe you will share with me my deep concern for what is happening in the police force," he wrote. "I am...placing my
complete trust in you, despite the fact that you are an important Minister in the coalition government."
"You will undoubtedly appreciate from the enclosed letters to police ministers and even the Premier that I have diligently tried to have the anomalies rectified without embarrassment to the Queensland Government but
without success. It is with the utmost regret that I have been forced to make this submission.
"You will probably realise that I am worried for my own safety and more so for my family who are obviously completely innocent of any of this intrigue. Because of this concern I require strict confidentiality of all material which I provide except unless otherwise stated by me in writing," he wrote.
And he asked that no details be passed on to fellow Minister Don Lane, the former police officer and Rat Pack
associate.
In the statement he said he was prepared to give evidence on oath to an open inquiry.
"I fully realise now that my family and myself are at risk as I know so much about corruption in the force. I have never sought self-aggrandisement, only justice," he wrote. "I have made this statement available in the belief that all particulars within same will remain confidential unless authorised by me. In the event that I suffer any mysterious injury or accident, or am placed before a court on any charge of which it would be highly unlikely that I had committed same, such as drug abuse or possession, stealing, possession of stolen property and the like, the holder is authorised to release any or all of the particulars contained within this statement. In the event that there is not to be an open inquiry, all particulars contained in this statement can be released in general detail only without the use of names and only after consultation with myself."
Receipt of the letter and statement were never even acknowledged by Doumany.
Unknown to Campbell, Doumany certainly ignored the request for confidentiality. The letter was passed on to Lewis and the Premier. Lewis went to see Premier Bjelke-Petersen on January 11 with Campbell's statement high on his agenda. He had highlighted eight of the matters raised in the statement, including the name of the man alleged to have bribed the illegal gaming keeper. And he wrote in his diary for that day: "Saw Premier re...Sir Edward Lyons' UIL charges; S/c Campbell and K. Hooper MLA."
All hell was about to break loose. But Campbellhad taken precautions.
He knew the corrupt police would not take it lying down. Already they had searched his home. He and the family came home one night and he could smell cigar smoke. No one in the family smoked. There was no sign of a break-in but he was sure from tell-tale signs that the place had been turned over. From then on, every time they went out he would line up the children's toys. To anyone walking in to the room it would appear the toys had just been dumped at random. He left minute bits of sticky paper across the tops of boxes containing documents. When the family came home the toys had been moved and the bits of paper had been displaced. Campbell smiled grimly.
His incriminating documentation was securely stored in Kev Hooper's office safe.
A neighbour happened to be a fellow policeman. But a friend told Campbell that this cop had been told to keep an eye on him. Then Campbell noticed that he was being followed when he went out.
Despite a desperate search for work, nothing had turned up. The Campbells decided they would have to move. They would rent a house for a while to see what happened.
Campbell became adept at losing his shadow. He would go to the huge Carindale shopping centre and emerge alone. He found a house to rent at the nearby regional centre of Capalaba. Here they would be safe - at least for a
while.
Campbell knew that the cop who was watching them played football. He checked on when the bloke's team was next playing and arranged for the removal van to park round the corner until he gave it the go-ahead to pull
up outside for the moving. Out went the cop. In came the van. Goodbye!
Oh bliss. They had a new silent telephone number. There were no more threatening phone calls.
Click here for chapter 4
just what it was, Campbell could hardly contain himself. "I've got him," he thought. He could see Lewis being charged and the Government being implicated. After all, it was the Government which had appointed Lewis.
At the centre of what had happened was Sir Edward Houghton Lyons, a close confidante and business advisor of Premier Bjelke-Petersen as well as also being close to Commissioner Lewis. A thin little man of 67 with
myopic looks, he was nevertheless enormously powerful, had been made a trustee of the National Party, and was known as Top Level Ted because of his habit of saying he would deal with matters at the top level. Like Lewis, he even took his address to new heights. He lived in a house with a commanding view and gave his address to police as Holland Park Heights (Lewis lived at Bardon, also with a view. He chose to describe his address as Paddington
Heights.).
Lyons had been in the news earlier that year when his friend Bjelke-Petersen had insisted at Cabinet, against strong opposition, that Lyons should be appointed head of the State Totalisator Board, a position which he
went on to use to his personal advantage by placing massive bets on credit, which was against the rules of the TAB. Racing Minister Russ Hinze later revealed that he was only given his portfolio on the condition that he made
Lyons the TAB chief.
In Parliament Bob Gibbs called Lyons a "Rasputin of financial circles" who had an "unnatural, almost demon-like influence over the Premier". The Premier publicly revealed that it had been Top Level Ted who had arranged
the money for the party to field candidates in every electorate at the previous election.
A patrol car out on the South-Eastern Freeway in the early hours of that Friday morning noticed a car weaving. It was not any old car either. It was a Rolls Royce. Sitting behind the wheel, well over the limit, was Top Level
Ted who had been having a few Christmas drinks at TAB HQ that night with, among others, the Premier and the Police Commissioner. Lyons refused to take a roadside breath test. Back at the Woolloongabba station his breath test resulted in a reading of 120 milligrams of alcohol per 100 millilitres of blood, or, in Australian terms, 0.12- well over the then legal limit of 0.08. The breathalyser paperwork was complete at 2.30 am on the Friday morning. Five minutes later he was officially arrested. A notice was issued to Lyons not to drive for 24 hours.
Then Lyons asked for a phone. "I want to call the Commissioner," he slurred. It was the sort of ploy or threat sometimes made by vague acquaintances of VIPs. But Lyons unerringly dialled Lewis's silent home phone
number. After announcing where he was he said: "They say I'm full. I'm not, Terry, I'm not full." The phone was passed to Sgt 1/c Len Bracken who told Lewis: "He's as full as a fowl." Lewis told him: "Other than my mother he's
about the only bloke in the world I'd like to do something for...take him home."
"He's pissed," said Bracken.
A second, more senior officer was told by Lewis: "You know he's the Premier's right hand man. Surely you can do something for him." The officer judged from "the tone that the commissioner was seeking to have the charge
dropped if possible".
After the call the constable involved was told to 'forget it'. He screwed up the documentation and threw it in a rubbish bin. And Top Level Ted was allowed to drive his Rolls Royce home illegally and under police escort - presumably just in case anyone was written off by the over-the-top-level driver.
Lewis opened his diary and wrote: "At 2am Sir Edward Lyons rang re detention for suspected UIL (under the influence of liquor). Spoke to Cons Carmichael, Insp D Squasconi and Sgt L Bracken."
There were a lot of incensed police at the station that night. Any other motorist would have been detained and forced to appear in court some seven hours later, hungover and bleary from lack of sleep. One of the cops,
Brian Cook, was incensed enough to retrieve the documentation from the rubbish bin. He quietly put it in his pocket and later handed it to Campbell.
Campbell went to the officer in charge of the South Brisbane District and told him he wished to make a complaint. "I have information which would suggest an offence has been committed under Section 132 of the Criminal
Code." The inspector listened. But he made no notes. He said the commissioner would appoint someone to investigate the complaint - against the commissioner.
Campbell knew it was highly likely that nothing would happen. So he phoned Kev Hooper and later drove over to his electorate office to pass on the documentation. Because he had been ultra-cautious, it was the first time he
had actually met 'Big Vinnie' or 'Buckets' as Hooper was known. Kev Hooper, a giant but affable man, phoned Ric Allen on the Sunday Mail.
Next day Lewis was busy, despite it being a Saturday. "Spoke to Sgt 1/c L Bracken, Sgt 1/c C. Chant and Hon R. Hinze re detention of Sir Edward Lyons," he recorded in his diary.
That day a story was put out that Lyons had been released because he had to go on an urgent business trip. But Campbellknew better than that. He had a copy of the document that showed Lyons had actually been arrested
and once a person had been arrested he had, by law, to be charged. That had not happened.
And that night, at a police Christmas party, Bracken warned Lewis the matter was going to hit the fan because the Sunday Mail was running the story on the front page.
The story received huge page one treatment next day. Commissioner Lewis was quoted as confirming that Lyons had not been arrested or charged. He denied any cover up. "Sir Edward had to fly to Sydney on urgent business but he will be charged and will appear in court on the drink driving offence," said Lewis.
Attorney-General and Justice Minister Sam Doumany promised an inquiry. But Kev Hooper knew this was unlikely to reveal the truth. "Nothing short of a Royal Commission will satisfy me or any reasonable member of the
public," he said.
It was not until 4pm that Sunday that the officer who had pulled up Lyons was told to initiate proceedings for a
summons.
The following day Campbell was heartened to read a Courier Mail story quoting the president of the Bar Association, Bill Pincus QC, saying: "No satisfactory explanation has been given and I am deeply disturbed at the evidence that the ordinary process of the law was not followed." Nothing less than an open inquiry could satisfy the public, he said.
But the same story carried a quote from union president Col Chant saying two of the police officers involved had assured him no threat had been held out to them and no pressure had been brought to bear on them.
And then Police Minister Russ Hinze, who rubbished the idea that the commissioner could have been involved in bringing pressure to bear on the officers, said there would certainly not be any sort of departmental investigation.
Three days before Christmas, the time of goodwill to all men, Campbell was summoned to the 12th floor of Police HQ. There he found himself being interviewed by two senior officers of the Internal Investigations Section, a superintendent and an inspector. "Will the interview be strictly confidential?" he asked.
The superintendent assured him it would. "Are you prepared to investigate my complaints even if it means you might have to investigate your superiors?" he pressed. The superintendent said he would carry on no matter who
was involved. Campbell said he would prefer to prepare a statement and was promised as much time as he needed.
There was just one other thing: "The Commissioner has directed me to instruct you to move on transfer on January 4 1982," said the superintendent.
"Why are you raising this when your relationship to me should be that of an officer investigating my complaint?" asked Campbell, realising that wheels had been turning furiously after his initial complaint. The superintendent said that if Campbell did not move on January 4 he would be charged.
Campbell decided he was going to get nowhere with his complaint and walked out. He rang the commissioner's office and asked to see Lewis. He explained what his call was about. That afternoon he received a call from the
office saying the commissioner was not prepared to see him.
On the 23rd, as Campbell was starting duty at 2pm, he was called in to the district officer's room and told Lewis was waiting for him at HQ. Campbell went straight to Makerston St and was ushered in to see Lewis. He
detailed how each of his transfers had occurred. Lewis said he was unfamiliar with Campbell's background but promised on his word of honour that Campbell would not be railroaded out of the force.
Campbell was learning: he recorded this conversation on a small recorder hidden by his police shirt.
Next day Campbell's mate in the store rang him to say Col Chant had told him not to be associated with Campbell in any way because Lewis knew it was Campbell who had contacted Hooper about Lyons. Chant had told him that Cook had handed over the breathalyser certificate.
The same day Campbell heard that the officer who had previously made threats against him had mentioned to someone that "Campbell will be leaving the force in a big way". This was force slang which indicated an impending
accident or the discovery of planted drugs.
Campbell took dramatic precautions at home. The Campbells were living in a siege mentality. He was only too
well aware of what had happened to other cops who had spoken out of turn or gone against the system. A car could be set on fire under the house. A loved pet could be shot. And plenty of people had died mysteriously over the years.
Campbell and his wife drummed it into the children that they weren't allowed out of the yard. Even though their eldest boy was now nine, he wasn't allowed to go to the shop unless mum or dad was with him. The other children weren't allowed to play around the front or go anywhere near the front of the yard. They weren't allowed to open the door to anybody at all, whether they knew them or not. Even their own grandmother was refused entry one morning.
The area under the house had been burglar-proofed and was kept locked. The only doors and windows open were the ones where the family happened to be. They got used to locking up behind them as they moved around the house. Whenever a car pulled up somewhere in the street Campbell woke automatically. He moved over to the window in the darkness and checked to see who it was and whether anyone was coming towards their home. It became routine.
He had never carried a gun in his life. Now he kept one with him all the time as a matter of routine. And he slept with it under his mattress. The fear? Not the unknown. Not honest to goodness crims. But crooked cops - they were who he was terrified of.
The bludger at the station had also told him 'they' were even watching the people who played tennis with him.
Campbell decided to change the focus of his attack. Justice Minister Sam Doumany had promised an inquiry into the Lyons affair. Doumany was not one of Bjelke-Petersen's National Party Ministers but a member of the coalition government's Liberal Party which portrayed itself as keeping the Nationals honest. Could he be trusted? Campbell decided he ought not to wait for things to happen. He had to make them happen. He drew up an 11-page statement outlining his entire police career and only touching on Lyons in passing. He had it witnessed by a JP. To a background of Christmas carols and peace on earth, he completed it on Christmas Eve. It was a
time for others to be merry but Campbell worried about what he was doing all through the festivities.
On December 27 Lewis was again busy. The commissioner wrote in his diary: "Lunch with Hon Hinze. Spoke to him re...S/c Campbell preparing report to Chief Justice re abuse of office; Mr Hooper to produce policeman
before Parliament."
On December 29 Campbell typed out a two-page letter to accompany the statement he had drawn up. He promised Doumany a full statement on the Lyons affair if confidentiality was assured. "I believe you will share with me my deep concern for what is happening in the police force," he wrote. "I am...placing my
complete trust in you, despite the fact that you are an important Minister in the coalition government."
"You will undoubtedly appreciate from the enclosed letters to police ministers and even the Premier that I have diligently tried to have the anomalies rectified without embarrassment to the Queensland Government but
without success. It is with the utmost regret that I have been forced to make this submission.
"You will probably realise that I am worried for my own safety and more so for my family who are obviously completely innocent of any of this intrigue. Because of this concern I require strict confidentiality of all material which I provide except unless otherwise stated by me in writing," he wrote.
And he asked that no details be passed on to fellow Minister Don Lane, the former police officer and Rat Pack
associate.
In the statement he said he was prepared to give evidence on oath to an open inquiry.
"I fully realise now that my family and myself are at risk as I know so much about corruption in the force. I have never sought self-aggrandisement, only justice," he wrote. "I have made this statement available in the belief that all particulars within same will remain confidential unless authorised by me. In the event that I suffer any mysterious injury or accident, or am placed before a court on any charge of which it would be highly unlikely that I had committed same, such as drug abuse or possession, stealing, possession of stolen property and the like, the holder is authorised to release any or all of the particulars contained within this statement. In the event that there is not to be an open inquiry, all particulars contained in this statement can be released in general detail only without the use of names and only after consultation with myself."
Receipt of the letter and statement were never even acknowledged by Doumany.
Unknown to Campbell, Doumany certainly ignored the request for confidentiality. The letter was passed on to Lewis and the Premier. Lewis went to see Premier Bjelke-Petersen on January 11 with Campbell's statement high on his agenda. He had highlighted eight of the matters raised in the statement, including the name of the man alleged to have bribed the illegal gaming keeper. And he wrote in his diary for that day: "Saw Premier re...Sir Edward Lyons' UIL charges; S/c Campbell and K. Hooper MLA."
All hell was about to break loose. But Campbellhad taken precautions.
He knew the corrupt police would not take it lying down. Already they had searched his home. He and the family came home one night and he could smell cigar smoke. No one in the family smoked. There was no sign of a break-in but he was sure from tell-tale signs that the place had been turned over. From then on, every time they went out he would line up the children's toys. To anyone walking in to the room it would appear the toys had just been dumped at random. He left minute bits of sticky paper across the tops of boxes containing documents. When the family came home the toys had been moved and the bits of paper had been displaced. Campbell smiled grimly.
His incriminating documentation was securely stored in Kev Hooper's office safe.
A neighbour happened to be a fellow policeman. But a friend told Campbell that this cop had been told to keep an eye on him. Then Campbell noticed that he was being followed when he went out.
Despite a desperate search for work, nothing had turned up. The Campbells decided they would have to move. They would rent a house for a while to see what happened.
Campbell became adept at losing his shadow. He would go to the huge Carindale shopping centre and emerge alone. He found a house to rent at the nearby regional centre of Capalaba. Here they would be safe - at least for a
while.
Campbell knew that the cop who was watching them played football. He checked on when the bloke's team was next playing and arranged for the removal van to park round the corner until he gave it the go-ahead to pull
up outside for the moving. Out went the cop. In came the van. Goodbye!
Oh bliss. They had a new silent telephone number. There were no more threatening phone calls.
Click here for chapter 4
