Jacks and Jokers (51 page)

Constable Moore knew of Hurrey but had not encountered him socially.

‘Hurrey was huge,’ says another friend of Moore’s at the time. ‘He had a huge following. His radio show was probably one of the finest. He had a great talent and his knoweldge of music was unbelievable.’

Hurrey became aware that Moore was doing the traffic reports. One day Moore did a wickedly funny Edna Everage-style report as a joke. It captured the attention of Hurrey, who approached the police officer about a ribald traffic report for his own morning show. Trisha Traffic was born.

‘What Trisha Traffic would do was not only traffic reports but she would pick bits out of the newspaper and comment, and some of them were very risqué,’ Moore’s colleague says. ‘One day he was in the conference room at police headquarters, on the phone doing Trisha Traffic live, and other police were banging on the door waiting to get in. On that day one of the politicians was giving out flowers to people, and Moore said it is probably someone who wants to give him a stalk.’

Nobody knew Trisha Traffic was Moore. But then an article appeared in the
Courier-Mail
that suggested Trisha was believed to be from Terry Lewis’s stable.

Moore was such a success on so many media fronts that he began to wonder whether he wanted to be a police officer any longer.

‘In hindsight, he [Hurrey] was interested in, fascinated with, young teenage boys,’ a friend of Moore’s says. ‘And young teenage boys became fascinated with him. He would give them presents. CDs had just come in, movie tickets … and he … Bill told a lot of lies about things … Allegedly he was the godfather to [American entertainer] Stevie Wonder’s child. There were a lot of lies that he came to believe himself.’

Bill Hurrey began a social friendship with Moore. He met Moore’s family.

‘Lewis knew about it,’ a source says. ‘Often Lewis would phone Moore and say, can you ask Bill to get this music or that music or whatever. He would give Moore a list of what he wanted and Bill would record it on tape and Moore would give it to the Commissioner.’

One Transfer Too Many

Whether his superiors were concerned about his involvement in
The Woolloongabba Worrier
, the feisty little spoof newspaper anonymously produced by disaffected young officers at the Gabba CIB, or for some other reason, Senior Constable Bob Campbell was informed once more, in the winter of 1981, that he was on the move again – this time he would be transferred to Townsville.

Campbell, just a few months earlier, had resigned from the Police Union, then under the presidency of Col Chant. According to Campbell, a rumour came back to him that Chant had been yarning to an officer at the Police Store about the resignation, and that ‘Campbell need not come running to the Union for help’ if he was transferred.

Campbell believed a transfer was imminent. So he wrote to Premier Joh Bjelke-Petersen to raise his objections about the constant victimisation against him.

A standard reply came back from the Premier’s office. Three weeks later word came through that Campbell was off to the Surplus Depot, Townsville, in North Queensland.

Campbell had just commenced his final semester at university and asked that his transfer be deferred so he could complete his course in Brisbane. The temporary deferment was accepted.

It had been four long years since Campbell had launched on a path to better himself via his degree, and in the process been ground down by a police culture that Whitrod had attempted to eradicate, and that had, under Lewis’s watch, returned to the old days.

Campbell was a square peg in a round hole. And he was tired of all the game playing. In October 1981, in response to the latest transfer farce, he also wrote to firebrand politician Kev Hooper, the member for Archerfield. In the letter he described his sorry relationship with the current administration:

Dear Mr. Hooper,

Please take time to read this rather long exposé on the Queensland Police Force.

I have attempted to expose the corrupt practices, such as drug running, bribery, grafting from massage parlours and gambling dens, that are being perpetrated by the Lewis administration.

I have admired what you have been doing to try and clean up the police Force in this State and I am quite sure, from your statements, that you are well aware of the corrupt elements in the Force. Under Whitrod, these elements were suppressed but since Mr. Lewis has come into power they have flourished, understandably.

Massage parlours are thriving, drugs bigger and better than ever, particularly on the Gold Coast and honest Officers are victimized.

Campbell reiterated that as he would be resigning from the police force he had no hesitation in making a stand against corruption. He said he would be happy to give evidence to a royal commission, should one be called, but that if it was appointed by the government it would be a ‘whitewash’.

Campbell’s summation had echoes going all the way back to the National Hotel inquiry under Justice Gibbs in 1963–64.

I appreciate that I will have to leave Queensland within a short period of time, as I am quite sure I will not be left alone – if you know the method of operation of the Murphys and Curries of this Force, you will appreciate what I mean by this statement. I wish you every success in your endeavours to expose the corruption of the Bjelke-Petersen/police administration coalition. I feel confident that you know of those members in the parliamentary wing of the national Party involved with police in drug activity and I would be delighted to have such people receive their just deserts.

Thanking you for your service to Queensland.

Campbell knuckled down to study for his final examinations at the university. In a matter of weeks an opportunity to humiliate not just the Lewis administration but the entire Bjelke-Petersen government would by fate literally drop into a waste paper basket and find its way into the hands of Bob Campbell.

I See Nothing

In the meantime, Kev Hooper continued his attacks on Police Minister Russ Hinze, Lewis’s police administration and the government in parliament. He named three illegal casinos in the Valley and identified Geraldo and Tony Bellino and Luciano Scognamiglio, who had been secretly taped all those years ago at 142 Wickham Street by honest undercover agent Kingsley Fancourt, as the ‘Mafia’ who ran them.

Hooper had repeatedly driven a sword through police ministers Newbery and Camm. The larger-than-life Hinze would be no exception. Hot on the heels of the letter from the disaffected Bob Campbell, who had walked the beat of Fortitude Valley in his early days in the force, Hooper rose in the House on Tuesday 13 October and fired both barrels.

‘Let me talk about 142 Wickham Street, the site of another illegal casino,’ he said. ‘Business is so good that it has recently been expanded to provide gambling facilities for ethnic Chinese people. They are providing games such as fan-tan, chug-a-lug and the one referred by the Treasurer, pakapoo.

‘The ownership of 142–144 Wickham Street, Fortitude Valley, is as follows. It is owned by Sheard Investments Pty Ltd, registered in Papua New Guinea on 20 March 1972. It was registered in Queensland as a foreign company on 10 July 1972. The registered office in New Guinea is care of Wayland and Wayland, Allotment 4, Section 5, Douglas Street, Port Moresby. The Queensland agent is Glenitch Pty Ltd – everyone will love this – care of that fine old establishment legal firm Trout, Bernays and Tingle, solicitors, SGIO Building, Turbot Street, Brisbane. The directors are Lionel Sheard Fox and Shirley Fox, Allotment 11, Section 36, Madang, New Guinea.

‘In passing, I would point out that that company is also in breach of the
Companies Act
for not lodging an annual return since 1972.’

Hooper had some excellent intelligence. He was correctly implying, through naming the owners of the premises in Wickham Street, that no authorities – taxation, police or otherwise – had gone near Sheard Investments in more than ten years, despite the inference of the
Companies Act
breach. This establishment could have been shut down at any time in the past decade, Hooper implied. And it hadn’t. He went even further.

‘Despite the head-in-the-sand attitude of the Bjelke-Petersen Government, it is a fact of life that the lucrative drugs, prostitution and gambling rackets in Queensland have now become a multi-million-dollar industry reaching into all sections of Queensland life and controlled by a Queensland mafia,’ said Hooper to an enthralled House. ‘The godfathers of the mafia are Gerry, Tony and Vince Bellino, Vic Conte, Luciano Scognamiglio, also known as Lugano Scognamiglio, Cosimo Rullo, alias Tony Shifty, and Dominic Pasano.

‘A well-known Brisbane hairdresser and a used-car dealer are alleged to be part of the gang. As I have no firm evidence against them at this stage, I do not propose to name them.’

Hooper stated that Vince Bellino managed the House on the Hill nightclub in Cairns. ‘This is reputed to be the headquarters for the Queensland operation. Tony Bellino’s girlfriend, known as Monica, works at 142 Wickham Street and she helps rip off the unsuspecting young gamblers. Monica wears a see-through frock, which makes it extremely difficult for the younger gamblers to concentrate. The gentlemen I have named have a fair criminal history between them.’

He singled out ‘Luci’ Scognamiglio, who he said was ‘in charge of the Gold Coast operation of the Queensland mafia. Even though he is alleged to be on a pension, he is the godfather on the Gold Coast and controls all the prostitution and gambling rackets.’

Hooper continued: ‘Geraldo, or Gerry Bellino, has been charged and convicted of the following offences: three charges of selling liquor without a licence, two charges of keeping a common gaming-house, two charges of threatening language and assault, one charge of resisting arrest and one charge of obscene language. That is not a bad record for a young lad who is trying to make his way in this very difficult world! These charges are, of course, just the tip of the iceberg. What stands out is the paltry amount of the fines.’

Hooper reserved his finest condemnation for Premier Bjelke-Petersen and the police.

‘It is perfectly obvious that all types of vice flourish unhindered and untrammelled in Queensland,’ said Hooper. ‘I state quite emphatically that crime of this magnitude could not operate without political and police permission at the highest levels.

‘I am absolutely disgusted at the “holier than thou” attitude of the Bjelke-Petersen government to vice and crime in Queensland. From my observations, Fortitude Valley makes Kings Cross look like a kindergarten play area.’

The Hooper address had it all – the Mafia, gambling dens, scantily-dressed women, and the implication of corruption in the highest circles of government and law enforcement.

Hooper had hit one out of the park.

It was, naturally, the page-one splash in the
Courier-Mail
the following day – Wednesday 14 October 1981. THREE ‘MAFIA’ CASINOS NAMED, the headline read.

‘A Queensland “Mafia” was operating three illegal casinos in Brisbane’s Fortitude Valley, State Parliament was told yesterday,’ the newspaper reported. ‘The opposition police spokesman, Mr Kevin Hooper, said a lucrative drug, prostitution and gambling racket in Queensland had become a multi-million dollar industry.’

The story quoted Hinze, saying he had discussed the allegations with Police Commissioner Lewis and other senior police. (If Lewis’s diaries are to be believed, this was untrue. Lewis’s diary reveals that on the Tuesday, as Hooper regaled the house with crime and skulduggery, the commissioner had indeed been contacted by Police Minister Hinze, but not about the Mafia allegations. Hinze had phoned Lewis ‘re: son-in-law Alan Power arrested for U.I.L’. That evening, Lewis attended a Lord Mayoral function at City Hall, then finished duty at 7.30 p.m.)

‘I am prepared to look into it further,’ Hinze reportedly said, ‘provided Mr Hooper gives me or the Police Commissioner concrete evidence to back up allegations made under the protection of parliament. Illegal casinos will not be tolerated in Queensland.’

Hinze stressed that allegations of police corruption were ‘complete rubbish’.

The newspaper also ran a side colour story by ‘a Special Writer’ headlined ‘Behind the door in the Valley’, with a photograph of the secure door of 142 Wickham Street.

‘If you know the Valley, the casinos are easy to find,’ it read. ‘If you don’t, ask an understanding cabbie. The Wickham Street premises above Bubbles Bath House is the obvious choice if you’re partial to a hand or two of blackjack.’

The writer described the experience as ‘not really a bad night out in Brisbane’.

Prostitute Katherine James often went to the gambling joint above Bubbles Bath House after work. ‘The number of people present … would vary – early in the week there might be only 30 people, but on a Saturday night there could be 150,’ she said. ‘The games which were played at Bubbles were blackjack, Manila and roulette.

‘The police would visit whilst I was there and whilst games were in progress. I never saw police take people’s names. I never saw police attempt to close the premises … the house was taking a percentage of 20 per cent.’