Jacks and Jokers (60 page)

And just as her mother had done in 1963, soon she too would once again be flying south – to Sydney. Mary Anne Brifman would not mirror her own mother’s short and tragic life, but she would make a career of prostitution, getting to know the main players of the criminal underworld. She would spend decades contemplating her life, reading widely and moving towards a spiritual truth that her past had blinded her from.

Mary Anne Brifman, unlike poor Shirley, would learn about salvation, and she would find it.

Games

In the week leading up to the XII Commonwealth Games – an epochal event for Brisbane – Commissioner Lewis’s work patterns were a combination of official festivities and street-level concerns that protests, especially by Indigenous people, might spoil the party.

On his day off on Sunday 26 September, Lewis and wife, Hazel attended a service of worship at the Wesley Uniting Church in Albert Street, in the city, before he ‘drove around where crowd gathering in Forum for Black Protest march’. He later checked out Musgrave Park in South Brisbane, ‘re Aboriginals gathering’.

The next day, Bjelke-Petersen phoned him about ‘inciting statements by C. Perkins’. Charles Perkins, the Aboriginal activist, had been invited to Brisbane to lead a series of protests highlighting to the world media the land rights issue and the paucity of personal and political rights in Queensland under the Bjelke-Petersen regime. Lewis and the Premier also discussed Bjelke-Petersen’s ‘bullet proof vest received’.

Lewis still had time in a busy schedule to open a new ‘liquor bar’ at the Police Academy and then pick up Hazel and attend the Commonwealth Countries Exhibition of Police at the Myer store in Queen Street.

On the Tuesday, Syd Atkinson and Ron Redmond joined Lewis at a meeting in the office of Police Minister Russ Hinze to discuss ‘demonstrations’. Curiously, on that same day he also popped in to see ‘Eric Pratt with Hazel and signed Wills’.

Wednesday saw more cocktail parties, a revision of the Premier’s security, and a congratulatory call from Hinze, ‘re march by aborigines going well’.

Finally, Thursday 30 September 1982 arrived, and the opening ceremony awaited Brisbane and the world. As Lewis recorded in his diary: ‘With Hazel to QEII Jubilee Sports Centre re opening of XII Commonwealth Games by Prince Philip. Windy but fine. 45 nations paraded. Magnificent spectacle.’

The star of the show was Matilda, the 13-metre mechanised kangaroo mascot that winked at the crowd as it moved around the stadium’s ochre running track. That night Lewis attended a government reception at Lennons in the city.

On Saturday 2 October, Lewis was in the crowd at the archery events. Gold was won by England’s Mark Blenkarne, with Australian Michael Coen picking up a bronze. None of our women archers won a medal. The next day it was off to the new world-class Chandler swimming and diving centre.

There was a little culture among the sport. On the evening of Tuesday 5 October, in the presence of the Duke of Edinburgh, Terry and Hazel took their seats in the Albert Street Amphitheatre and caught a performance of Shakespeare’s
The Tempest
.

Curiously, Bjelke-Petersen rang Lewis in his office the next day stating that Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser wanted ‘details on each protestor arrested’. Considering there were hundreds, it might have been a job for the Special Branch.

That day also saw Lewis dropping in on the badminton events at Chandler, boxing at Festival Hall in Albert Street, wrestling at City Hall and back to Chandler for the cycling.

For the next three days Terry and Hazel attended numerous functions in honour of Her Majesty the Queen.

On Saturday 9 October, it was back to Her Majesty’s yacht,
Brittania
, the 126-metre floating palace and the Queen’s aquatic home away from Buckingham Palace in London on foreign visits. Lewis noted in his diary: ‘At 10.45am to Brittania with Royal Tour Directorate where Queen presented various Awards and gifts, I received framed photograph.’

He then witnessed the closing ceremony back at QEII.

There was Commonwealth Games residue to deal with: the Aboriginal protestors in Musgrave Park, South Brisbane. ‘Only 5 tents left,’ Lewis notated on the Sunday after the closing ceremony had packed up.

The fanfare soon faded and it was back to business. Police Minister Hinze informed Lewis that Judge Carter, Head of the Police Complaints Tribunal, was concerned over the Bikie Bandit case. Lewis’s old mate, Eric Pratt, QC, phoned to let him know that he had been offered the position of District Court judge.

On 29 October, Lewis and his wife, Hazel, were present at the Full Court to witness Pratt’s crowning as a judge. Lewis recalls his friend from their days as young policemen on interchange in Sydney in 1958:

He [Pratt] … didn’t have the educational qualifications [to become a barrister]. [He found out] if you went to New Guinea and got a job with, whatever the Crown Law place is up there, he could do it externally at the University of Queensland. So he went up there and got a job … and did it externally and got somehow, well got friendly if you like with Gerry Brennan [the future Chief Justice of the High Court of Australia].

Young Gerry Brennan, he was very young and I also met Des Sturgess somewhere along the line, I don’t know where or how. And I think from what I was told it was sort of Gerry Brennan gave him some advice and after he’d done X amount of study there he moved to Brisbane to do it full-time.

And that’s when I sort of got in touch, well he got in touch with me again … they got their kids to come down to St Peter’s College [at Indooroopilly and close to the city] and Hazel used to go out and get them at the weekend and bring them home to let them have some time out. And then when they were coming down Hazel found this house for them and then he went full-time and became a barrister and I think he must have gone, I don’t remember, might have gone straight into private practice. I can’t say I wasn’t real close to him but I can’t say I wasn’t either.

He did come to our place I think once for dinner and I sort of went to his place once but it wasn’t as if we were in each other’s pocket every day.

… he really, really put the work in on me to become a judge. And I didn’t mind, I didn’t mind asking people if they could help somebody. I mean they’d only do it if they were prepared to do it … they wouldn’t … and over the years I suppose I helped lots of people do lots of things.

The Pratt issue merely exemplified Lewis’s ever-widening influence and power in societal circles that just six years earlier had never heard of him. A relentless networker, it was now a given that he had the ear of the powerful, from the Premier to the powerbrokers to the wealthy and the highest lawmakers.

It must have been almost inconceivable to those who knew Lewis in his previous, not so enchanted life, to see him now in the social pages, meeting royalty and world leaders. It would have been even more surprising to know how the same man was directly influencing the appointments of judges, Cabinet ministers and the like.

It had been a full month of pomp and ceremony.

But political upheaval wasn’t far away.

No, Minister

With the rigmarole of the Commonwealth Games over, and the whole extravaganza relegated to the history books, Commissioner Lewis had different fish to fry – namely, his own Police Minister, Russ Hinze.

Lewis had not forgiven Hinze for setting up the Police Complaints Tribunal in the wake of the
Nationwide
television exposé. He saw it as a betrayal of good, hard-working police officers.

There was, too, Hinze’s preparations for a Summary Offences Bill to be brought down in parliament in the new year. The legislation would effectively put a pincer on gambling and prostitution.

A flurry of diary entries underlined Lewis’s displeasure with his colourful Minister. On 3 November 1982: ‘… saw Sir Edward Lyons re Cabinet reshuffle’. Then on 25 November: ‘… phoned Sir Edward Lyons re Ministers’. Again on 1 December: ‘… to Parlt House where Premier said he would transfer Police to Hon. W.H. Glasson if acceptable to me’.

On the morning of the day he saw the Premier, the National Party had voted for a new Deputy Premier. Hinze was a major contender, but the victory went to Bill Gunn.

Lewis now remembers Russ Hinze as a ‘good’ Police Minister, despite his concerted attempts to have him replaced. ‘We were allocated say 50 extra policemen for the year … [Leo] Hielscher and others in Treasury didn’t want to give you ten quid,’ says Lewis. ‘Russ said, “Recruit another 50 or 25. I haven’t got Treasury approval but that doesn’t matter, leave that to me.”

‘The next minute you had Treasury on your back.’

Lewis attests that Hinze thought nothing of trying to cut a few corners.

‘You’d go down there most Monday mornings before Cabinet … I’d go down to his office in the old Treasury Building,’ remembers Lewis. ‘You didn’t sit around and talk … from time to time he’d produce a traffic ticket and see if you could get that fixed up.

‘Without fail I’d give it to Assistant Commissioner of Traffic and get them to check it in case they’d made a mistake. I don’t remember any of his being wiped.

‘Say it was a $50 fine. He’d give you $50 to pay it. It wasn’t just the fine but added points to your licence. They were always racing people, mainly jockeys. He thought he’d fix up anything. It was, if you like, white collar crime. The rumour was if you wanted anything done you went to Russ.

‘There were always rumours [about corruption] and hardly any of them ever got anywhere because bloody politicians and local governments and developers were all mates.’

Lewis claims he also had to be on hand for a secret assignation from his Minister. ‘He rang me one day and said, “You’re a JP, aren’t you? Come down and sign a form for me,” ’ Lewis remembers. ‘It was an application to get married in a church in Ann Street. “I don’t want anyone to know,” Hinze said.

‘The next thing he married Fay. He didn’t want the media or anybody to know that he was getting married.’

By the end of 1982, however, Lewis had lost his patience with Hinze. ‘He left debris for others to clear,’ says Lewis. ‘He was a colossus that pushed everything – ethics, other people – aside.

‘He totally supported Joh in Cabinet. He was always the first cab off the rank to support him. [But] I don’t think he had any respect for his position or anybody else. His way was the only way. He didn’t mind being paid for doing favours.

‘I said to the Premier, at one stage, we should have a different minister.’

In the end, Lewis won.

On 2 December, the day after Lewis saw the Premier about replacing Hinze with Glasson, the Commissioner’s diary noted: ‘Hon Hinze phoned re relinquishing of Police portfolio from 6.12.82.’

Russell Grenning, who would later work for Hinze as press secretary and personal assistant, remembers a specific incident that triggered the demise of Hinze as Police Minister. ‘As I recall from my many conversations over the years I was with Hinze [which didn’t include his term as Police Minister], the final straw in December 1982 was the demand by Sir Edward Lyons that he [Hinze] attend his Christmas Party,’ says Grenning. ‘Hinze flatly refused and told Lyons what he could do with his invitation. Lyons replied to the effect that if Hinze didn’t come to the party, he would be stripped of the Police portfolio. And a couple of days later that happened.

‘Hinze repeated that story several times. In fact, he was glad to be rid of the Police. Joh had already appointed him Racing Minister two years earlier. He was well known as a keen racing man so it appeared reasonable that he should get the portfolio. While Joh was under pressure from Lyons and Lewis to get rid of Hinze, Joh also realised that he could not afford to offend Hinze, who had great popularity among the public and the National Party backbench.’

Grenning says that around election times, if sitting members or candidates couldn’t secure a crowd for a fundraising event, Hinze was the next preferred pick.

‘It was Hinze’s success in getting up the Police Complaints Tribunal in mid-1982 that marked the definite end to any lingering relationship between he and Lewis,’ recalls Grenning. ‘Lewis told Joh and Hinze he regarded the establishment of the tribunal as a personal affront – saying that he and the force were wonderful … of course the tribunal was a toothless tiger but it marked a considerable success by Hinze over Lewis.’

He said Hinze suspected that the relationship between Lyons and Lewis deepened considerably towards the end of 1981 and became a love-in during 1982 and mutually very advantageous.

‘Hinze told me the pair were always seen out having dinners and drinks,’ Grenning adds. ‘Lewis had gained a strong ally in Lyons in his campaign to get rid of Hinze. I don’t think that there was any specific matter that triggered the final attack on Hinze by Lyons. I think by that time Lyons and Lewis had so poisoned Joh’s mind against Hinze as Police Minister that the refusal by Hinze to attend the Lyons’ Christmas party was just the pretext they needed.

‘And it worked – the irony is that Hinze was very, very pleased with the new arrangement.’

On 3 December, the day after Hinze phoned Lewis and relinquished his portfolio, the
Courier-Mail
ran a page-one story by political correspondent Peter Morley that Buckingham Palace had rejected a nomination from Bjelke-Petersen that Commissioner Lewis be knighted in the New Year’s honours list.