The Family Murders. Greg McInerny. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Greg McInerny
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Юриспруденция, право
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781649692283
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various walks of life who by their like-mindedness and subsequent associations, held not only their own secrets but each others, and dark secrets they were indeed.

      Married men, often with children and grandchildren of their own, members of the judiciary, the police force, the medical profession, parliamentarians, these were the men who stood to lose everything if their secrets were exposed. These were men of standing and authority, of power and of influence in the community. Closet homosexuals, closet pedophiles and some were even closet cross dressers.

      For the lower middle class associates, Stevenson’s demise did little to slow their deviant appetites or their sordid activities. One such person was Bevan Spencer von Einem. Bevan had formed a close relationship with the person we will continue to refer to as the ‘Businessman’ as has been done for decades due to suppression orders.

      Similar parties and gatherings took place at the Businessman’s eastern suburbs home as did at the Stevenson home. The guest list was not dissimilar and there was never a shortage of boys or young men hovering around the pool. It is believed that von Einem took his own young guests to the Businessman’s home on more than one occasion, though they were neither consenting nor fully conscious. Some were not conscious at all.

      The abuse of boys by this ‘side group’ had been going on for years before the Stevenson murder. Rewind back to 1971 there was a failed abduction of a teenage boy named Bradley from Childers Street, North Adelaide. The assailant chased the boy down the middle of the street threatening to kill him the whole time. The boy escaped and reported the incident to the local police. The scene was eerily similar to the abduction and murder of young Richard Kelvin in North Adelaide 12 years later, for which Derrance Stevenson’s former lover – accountant Bevan Spencer von Einem, was convicted.

      Eight years after the failed abduction and 20 days after the Stevenson murder, 17 year old Alan Barnes’s body was found under a bridge near Williamstown. A new less disciplined but no less deadly group had emerged. None of the bodies of the countless boys who were used in films over 20 years had ever been found but in the space of less than three weeks it all changed.

      Over the next four years police would accumulate information from the homosexual community and as a result of that information would interview the men who were touted as being of ‘suspect character’. In other words, they were thought to be abusers or procurers of boys and young men.

      Of those interviewed there were no less than seven legal professionals, two prominent politicians, a doctor, a known drug dealer and accountant Bevan Spencer von Einem amongst others.

      Not included on this list are Derrance Stevenson and Gino Gambardella due to the murder of Stevenson in 1979 and the absconding of Gambardella to Italy in 1980.

      Another list was soon gathered which was specific to investigations into the 1983 abduction and murder of 15 year old Richard Kelvin. Once again, Bevan Spencer von Einem was on the list. Others included were the Businessman and his boyfriend, a transvestite, two Doctors and a hairdresser.

      Most from both lists were known to each other and associated with each other. The police had compiled two basic lists for two different reasons, but the commonalty and familiarity was evident. Although far from a full list, it was a snapshot of the early 1980s and was derived from credible sources. The common names bind the two groups together. It is these and many more associations that prompted Detective Trevor Kipling to refer to them as “one big happy family” in 1988.

      CHAPTER 2

      ‘The one that got away’

      The weekend had arrived and 15 year old Bradley waited patiently perched upon the fence outside his sister’s block of flats in Childers Street, North Adelaide.

      It was nearing the Christmas season in late 1971 and Adelaide was already beginning to swelter as the temperature rose. The evenings offered a beautiful tepid breeze though and Bradley didn’t mind waiting outside for his sister to return. He was living with his sister and her husband in their modest flat in the leafy historical area that shrouded the perimeter of Adelaide’s central business district.

      There was nothing that stood out about Bradley; he looked like any other teenager. He was roughly 5’ 10” with sandy blonde hair and had yet to sprout enough facial hair to begin the daily ritual of shaving.

      Only 400 metres from O’Connell Street, the main road that connected the city to North Adelaide, Bradley could hear the traffic meandering through. It was late at night but a gentle glow of light still filtered through from the busy street. Bradley continued to wait, his sister wouldn’t be too long and there was little more he could do but to sit and think, and like most 15 year old boys he was probably thinking about girls!

      Suddenly as if to interrupt his train of thought, a car approached making the most awful racket! It wasn’t going very fast and was heading in the direction of O’Connell Street. Something was obviously wrong with it. He couldn’t help but watch as the ‘sickly’ Ford Falcon edged closer. Bradley soon caught the attention of the driver who seemed to stare back at him with equal curiosity.

      As if defeated, the driver pulled up and parked the vehicle about 40 metres up the road and got out of his car. Bradley watched on with curiosity and welcomed distraction as the driver went to the rear of his ailing Ford and bent down to inspect the problem.

      “Arrgh” yelled the driver, as if he had perhaps burnt his hand from the hot exhaust.

      Young Bradley jumped down from his position on the fence and immediately approached the distressed man to offer assistance.

      “Do you want a hand?” offered Bradley.

      “That would be great” said the driver.

      Bradley helped to push the exhaust back together again from the tail pipe end. As he did this, he thought it was funny that such an obviously new exhaust would fall off! He also noticed that the driver seemed to know what he was doing and placed the exhaust back into position easily. Perhaps it wasn’t the first time the exhaust had come apart!

      Bradley looked the man up and down; he was at least 6ft tall, clean shaven, thick dark hair which was wavy at the front. He was neatly dressed in business pants, the sleeves of this white shirt rolled up on the arms. The man was softly spoken and had what Bradley would later describe as a ‘German’ appearance about him.

      The exhaust now fixed, the driver asked the teenager what he was doing sitting on the fence late at night. Bradley explained that he was waiting for his sister to come home as he didn’t have a key.

      The driver then got into the front passenger seat of his car, leant over and opened the driver’s door and said ‘hop in’. Perhaps the man was kindly offering the teenager somewhere more comfortable to sit whilst he waited. Bradley did as instructed and jumped in behind the steering wheel. As he did, he noticed that the man had a beer in his hand.

      “Take a drink” said the man, which came across more as an instruction than a polite offering.

      “No thanks” replied the teenager.

      With a flick of his head, the driver then said “take it for a spin”. Perhaps again the slightly odd but personable man was trying to reward the young lad for rendering assistance.

      “I’ve got no licence” said the teenager.

      “Doesn’t matter” said the driver.

      Again Bradley declined the offer with a simple “no thanks”.

      After a short moment of awkward silence the driver seemed to settle back as if to concede defeat and started to swing the conversation towards general chit chat. Bradley hadn’t really felt uncomfortable or under any threat, he was sitting in the driver’s seat after all and still only metres from his sister’s flat.

      His sensible head had taken over and allowed him to refuse the offers of alcohol and driving without a licence.

      “Do you like football?” asked the driver. Bradley declared that he wasn’t at all interested in football. With this the driver