Police deeply entrenched in Sydney’s drug traffic

By Mike Head
23 October 2001

Since coming to office in 1995, Bob Carr, the Labor Party Premier of New South Wales, has claimed that his government is cleaning up the Australian state’s notoriously corrupt police force, while boosting police powers and numbers under the pretext of protecting the public from crime and violence, particularly drug-related.

Yet, when the Police Integrity Commission opened an inquiry into police graft in Sydney’s northern districts this month a very different picture began to emerge. The Commission heard that there was “overwhelming evidence” of “systematic corruption”. Police officers, including high-level commanders, were videotaped giving the “green light” to major drug dealers in return for bribes worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Their activities were not confined to accepting huge kickbacks—they recruited dealers, set up new drug networks and pressured petty traffickers to move into more serious dealing.

The evidence so far has focused on a single beach suburb—Manly—but the district appears to provide a microcosm of life in and around the police force. Tapes filmed with the help of a police informer show two detectives protecting at least seven drug dealers, and being paid monthly retainers or seizing large cash sums in the course of police drug raids. Over an 11-month period, from January 24 to December 16 last year, the pair stole or “taxed” $167,000 from dealers.

Tapes played to the inquiry showed police accepting bags full of money, stuffing stolen funds in their pockets, dividing the spoils of their crimes with superior officers and discussing their schemes in the crudest terms. “It makes it a pleasure to come to work,” M5, an unnamed police officer told his accomplices after taking his one-third share of $30,000 allegedly left by a dealer. “That’s why I came back,” a Detective Senior Constable replied. “Greed’s a bad thing,” joked another.

In one case, the two officers intimidated a small-time cannabis dealer, codenamed B5, into joining the area’s major heroin syndicate. In return for protecting B5, they demanded a $15,000 lump-sum payment and $2,000 a month. B5 became part of a network controlled by Vincent Caccamo, a confessed heroin dealer, who told the inquiry that officers had taken at least $92,000 from him in bribes and stolen money.

According to the tapes, police officers direct drug trafficking through a system of franchises. In one taped conversation, two drug dealers discussed their police protector. “You either gotta pay him and go ahead or you gotta quit ’cause he’ll pinch ya,” one complained. “It’s like paying rent, it’s like having a shop and paying rent. That’s all it is,” his associate replied.

Corrupt activities extend beyond the drug trade. Witnesses have told the Commission that detectives organised a convicted housebreaker to rob houses from Manly all the way to Palm Beach, at the furthest tip of Sydney’s northern beaches. Other tapes reveal police discussing bashing prisoners.

It appears that much more is to come. In his opening address, the counsel assisting the Commission, Peter Hastings QC said M5 would help to identify “hundreds of hours of recorded conversations,” that had been gathered via listening devices and phone intercepts. He gave notice that the material would extend beyond Manly, the immediate scene of the “sting” operation conducted over the past two years by the police Internal Affairs branch.

There was “significant evidence” that police also watered down charges in return for cash, falsified police records and perverted the course of justice. So much material has been amassed that the acting commissioner in charge of the hearing, Tim Sage, said he expected the inquiry to continue through most of 2002. Thus far, 25 people have been arrested on 62 charges.

Between 1994 and 1997, a Royal Commission documented widespread bribe-taking, drug-running and other corrupt dealings, as well as scores of cases of police planting or fabricating evidence to frame up innocent victims. In June 1996, the Carr government appointed a senior British police commander, Peter Ryan, as NSW Police Commissioner and made him the country’s highest-paid public servant. Carr declared that Ryan, with the government’s full support, would root out the corruption.

Instead, corrupt cops have not only survived but a new generation of police drug traffickers—some in their early 30s—has surpassed the so-called “old guard” of the 1980s and 1990s. “It’s not the good old days,” Superintendent Gary Raymond, the Manly area commander, told a drug dealer who called his office to complain about a police raid on his home. “Don’t tell me about the good old days,” the dealer replied. “It’s good, better and bigger than ever.”

Far from fighting the “war on drugs” touted by Carr and Ryan, members of the police force have become major players in the growing heroin trade, which is now estimated to net $2.6 billion for dealers nationally—with tragic consequences. In northern Sydney alone, more than 300 people have died by overdose in the past decade.

Police-sanctioned drug-running activities have also led to the frequent use of planted evidence. M5 said that, while the Royal Commission was in progress, he helped to dump in the Hawkesbury River a stash of firearms that had been illegally assembled at a suburban police station for use in police set-ups. According to M5, planted guns were used to jail at least one accused armed robber. Earlier in the year, Police Minister Paul Whelan admitted that police had fabricated evidence in “countless cases” and promised to set up an “innocence panel” next year to review suspect convictions.

High-level protection

It is inconceivable that such levels of graft and abuse of power could exist without being known in the highest echelons of the police force. Among the officers directly named or charged are two Detective Sergeants, an acting Inspector and the local Area Commander. Given the scale of the proceeds, and the amount of police time spent on illicit activities, more senior officers must have been involved as well.

According to various media reports, police themselves have indicated that inquiry evidence is the tip of the iceberg. All the evidence so far has come from a single police informer.

For more than a year, there have been indications of widespread corruption and abuse of power, as well as allegations that Ryan has not pursued the offenders. Last December, the Police Integrity Commission expressed “concern and disappointment” at unsatisfactory police response to anti-corruption proposals. At the beginning of this year, an audit of the police service labelled the reform process “systematically limited” and criticised Ryan for declaring that it was near completion.

Interviewed on ABC TV’s Four Corners program, Ryan claimed that he was “very angry” that “traitors within our midst” were “embarrassing us beyond belief”. His main concern was the damage done to the image of the police force, complaining that corrupt cops were creating “criticisms here and there, and disruption”. At the same time, he baldly declared that “you’ll never eliminate corruption” in the police service.

Nevertheless, Carr immediately sprang to Ryan’s defence, claiming that his police chief had been somehow “vindicated” by the revelations. Turning reality on its head, he accused people “who were hounding and attacking and nagging the commissioner” of “giving encouragement in many cases to corrupt cops”.

The revelations are a particular blow to Carr, who has been in the forefront of “law and order” politics nationally. He has systematically whipped up fears of drug abuse and associated crime—blaming it, without proof, on so-called ethnic youth gangs and alleged Asian and Lebanese criminals.

Working hand in hand with Ryan, in the guise of fighting drug traffickers, Carr has introduced draconian police powers. These have included “drug house” laws making it a serious offence to enter or leave declared “drug premises”, unprecedented police powers to detain, interrogate and order body scans of people, and police authority to order anyone in a public place to “move on”.

This combination of racial stereotyping and boosting police powers is designed to establish a repressive climate in working class areas, where social tensions and political disaffection are mounting. The evidence from the Police Integrity Commission, however, demonstrates that it is the police themselves, not ethnic gangs and foreign-born criminals, who direct many of the drug trafficking rackets.

Manly detective admits to bribery racket 2001

PM Archive - Friday, 19 October , 2001 Reporter: Peter Lloyd MARK COLVIN MARK COLVIN: In the New South Wales police dictionary, it appears 'giggle' is a collective noun meaning, 'A circle of corrupt officers engaged in bribery, stealing and other forms of corrupt activity'. The veil of secrecy surrounding the giggle based at Manly Police Station was lifted a little further today when one of its members gave evidence before the Police Integrity Commission. Uniformed Sergeant David Hill admitted his part in the now widely exposed racket whereby Detectives were taking bribes in exchange for green-lighting drug dealers and break-ins. By the time the Commission wrapped up this afternoon it was all over for Sergeant Hill, who announced his immediate resignation from the Police Service. Peter Lloyd's report contains language which may offend. PETER LLOYD: Even before he entered the witness box, Sergeant David Hill was in big trouble. Last week the Commission was played a recording of the Sergeant accepting a share in thousands of dollars stolen from a drug dealer by fellow corrupt officer, Detective Dave Patterson. During a search 'Pato', as he's known, was caught by a surveillance camera stuffing cash into his pocket. The next day Sergeant Hill accepted $300. It was how business was done at the Manly giggle. SERGEANT DAVID HILL: Well, that's the rules are. They always do the same. It's always been equal parts. PETER LLOYD: During cross-examination today Sergeant Hill told the Commission that throughout his career he had known of other corrupt officers. To his surprise Council for the Commission, Peter Hastings QC, asked him to write their names down on a piece of paper. He complied, and the document was tendered as a confidential exhibit. Immediately after that the Commission was played a surveillance tape in which Sergeant Hill could be heard declaring, 'I don't care what they've got on me - I could never admit anything'. He told the Commission that he didn't really mean that statement, it was just bravado. During another recording, Sergeant Hill can be heard discussing the mistreatment of suspects at Manly Police Station. The following disturbing exchange is a recreation based on an official transcript: UNIDENTIFIED:It doesn't happen here. UNIDENTIFIED: At Manly, what happens? UNIDENTIFIED: We just don't do it in front of the videos? UNIDENTIFIED: Hey? UNIDENTIFIED: We just don't do it in front of the videos. UNIDENTIFIED: Oh, so it's still happening? UNIDENTIFIED: Yeah, it does. We just flog the snot out of them and when they complain we just go - nup, it never happened. We had one bloke here, he got flogged down the road and got flogged big time outside the Stein by the boss. UNIDENTIFIED: By who? UNIDENTIFIED: By the boss. UNIDENTIFIED: The boss here? UNIDENTIFIED: You should see the size of him - he's a fat prick. He just fell on top of ya. PETER LLOYD: Under cross-examination, Hill denied the beating of suspects was commonplace at Manly. So why, asked Peter Hastings QC, did he say it? DAVID HILL: Bravado again. I was just running off at the mouth. In the old days you were part of it or played the part or you weren't accepted. PETER LLOYD: Sergeant Hill told the Commission that he'd been involved in another giggle of corrupt officers 10 years' ago when he was based at the major crime squad North at Chatswood. He said officers there split cash stolen from offenders. Their names were written down and handed up as well. It's understood the Inquiry will shift focus from Manly to Chatswood when it resumes at a date to be fixed. MARK COLVIN: Peter Lloyd.

Hansard - POLICE CORRUPTION

Full Day Hansard Transcript 

(Legislative Assembly, 17 October 2001, Corrected Copy)

LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY 

Wednesday 17 October 2001

Page: 17507

 Mr BARR (Manly) [6.06 p.m.]: I raise one of the most serious and confronting issues I have had to face as the member for Manly. I refer to the Police Integrity Commission [PIC] inquiry currently exposing the corruption of northern beaches police. The corrupt conduct of Manly's Detective Senior Constables David Patison and Matthew Jasper, the evidence of shonky dealings by their boss Ray Peattie, and the conduct of northern beaches Detective Sergeant Mark Messenger provoke anger and disappointment. We entrust these people with the safety of our streets and homes. Many Manly residents share with me the sense of betrayal that such a well-developed network of corruption could exist for so long right under our noses.

The evidence presented to the commission only emphasises this by showing the routine matter-of-fact way they went about their sordid business. They placed their own greed ahead of any moral scruples they might have had or any commitment to the community they served and belonged to. Detective Sergeant Mark Messenger stood as a candidate for Warringah Council, promoting himself as a civic-minded and honest citizen involved in the local surf and football clubs. In his brochure he highlighted his involvement on a police committee dealing with the recommendations of the Drug Summit, and stated:

As a police officer I have been actively involved in the fight against illegal drugs in our community. I also realise that this issue encompasses law enforcement and the health and wellbeing of our young.

In light of the revelations of the PIC, that brochure reads as a sinister, ironic joke. I hope that the PIC footage of crooked cops dealing with dull-witted criminals like Vinnie Caccamo is just the beginning. Although Caccamo and his cohorts are small beer, the money that has been changing hands is not. This is a cause for great concern. There is no reason to believe that sums of this nature were simply distributed amongst a few bottom feeders. I believe that the tentacles of this culture of corruption spread much wider. The PIC inquiry has revealed the petty criminals, but now I hope that it moves on to bigger game. The inquiry cannot be regarded as a vindication of Commissioner Peter Ryan's strategies but, rather, as a graphic demonstration of the fact that the same issues are still with us. They are the very same issues that Commissioner Ryan was brought in to fix. There is still systemic police corruption, but the commissioner has not yet shown how he will systematically clean up the act. The March 2000 report of the quality and strategic audit of the reform process concluded that police reform had been diverted from the directions set out in the royal commission.

In the auditor's view, Commissioner Ryan's emphasis on "ethical, cost-effective crime reduction" must go along with a concurrent emphasis on the reform process building a "corruption-resistant Service". The report notes that "good ideas and intentions have frequently stalled or faltered in being fully implemented and sustained" and that "staff themselves report confusion and a lack of clarity on the status of reform and the expectations of them in implementing reform locally." I emphasise "locally" because it is on the ground that the talk about reform is tested. The Manly experience shows how different the rhetoric and a reality can be.

The inquiry has brought the Commissioner of Police a temporary reprieve from the level of pressure and criticism to which he was subjected just a few weeks ago. Commissioner Ryan has only limited time to convince the public that he is truly turning around the police force. Apart from some new faces telling the same old corruption story, what has changed? Systemic change in the police force is still the highest priority. The command and control culture of the police force needs to be changed. The behavioural change program needs to be reinstated. The commissioner needs to reach out to his force rather than cut himself off. If he wants to build teamwork and trust across the ranks, he must lead by example. This is what he has to do and he has to do it quickly. If he cannot do so, then the Government should appoint someone who can.

However, that kind of change cannot rely upon one man. It must be systemic change. Commissioner Ryan has been too much of a focus and his position has become politicised. He has to have a strategy, an implementation plan and methodology for bringing about a cultural change in the police force in a direction that is away from the command and control model. If that does not happen, all prosecutions that will be undertaken will be treating the symptoms, but not the disease. New corrupt police officers will rise to fill the places of those who have been removed. I conclude by stating that the drug problem is not just a police problem. It is a problem for all of us. We have to improve our education programs and our health and support programs and recognise drug addicts as ill people who need to be weaned away from their addiction. It is in the interests of all of us to focus on a preventive and rehabilitative approach. The police cannot solve this problem by themselves. If it is not solved, police corruption is not likely to disappear.

Private members' statements noted.

[Mr Deputy-Speaker left the chair at 6.11 p.m. The House resumed at 7.30 p.m.]

Operation Florida - Hansard Transcript Oct 2001

Full Day Hansard Transcript (Legislative Assembly, 16 October 2001, Corrected Copy)

LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY

Tuesday 16 October 2001
______

Mr Speaker (The Hon. John Henry Murray) took the chair at 2.15 p.m.

 

Ms BEAMER

 OPERATION FLORIDA

Ms BEAMER: My question without notice is to the Minister for Police. What is the Government's response to Operation Florida?

Mr WHELAN: In recent days the people of New South Wales have witnessed a watershed in policing. The Police Integrity Commission's Operation Florida hearings into corruption in the Manly, Davidson and northern beaches local area commands have seen sensational television images of police integrity tests beamed into living rooms every evening. Radio airwaves and newspapers have carried shocking revelations of police investigating criminal activity by their own colleagues. I share the disappointment of the thousands of honest New South Wales police who are committed to ethical policing. They have been let down by the deplorable acts of a few.

However, I am much heartened and encouraged by aspects of this inquiry. This is the Police Service successfully and fearlessly investigating corruption in its ranks—fearlessly investigating its own. This inquiry—the biggest into police corruption since the Wood royal commission—is a clear sign that the Police Service has changed. No longer can police assume that the cash in the sock drawer is not a sting. No longer can they assume that a colleague is not wired or will not report them for serious and criminal misconduct. No longer can they assume that their telephones, offices, cars and open spaces are not under surveillance.

Mr SPEAKER: Order! I place the honourable member for Davidson on three calls order.

Mr WHELAN: New South Wales police have, over three years, used their resources, improved systems, tougher powers and a deep commitment to ethical policing to mount a highly-sophisticated, covert operation codenamed Mascot.

Mr SPEAKER: Order! I call the honourable member for Port Macquarie to order.

Mr WHELAN: This investigation was conducted by a revitalised and expanded special crime and internal affairs command, which replaced the ineffective office of professional responsibility. These PIC hearings can be traced back to 1996 when, as chairman of the crime commission management committee, I granted the commission a reference into organised crime, codenamed Gymea. That investigation revealed serious police misconduct that was referred to the Police Integrity Commission, which reported to Parliament in late 1998 under the reference Jade. As a result of that inquiry, New South Wales police received allegations in December 1998 of New South Wales police involvement with drug dealers. Commissioner Ryan immediately established his team of undercover police, who relentlessly began gathering evidence of corruption.

In February 1999 I formally granted the Crime Commission a new reference, Mascot, and that inquiry led to 25 arrests, including two police, and 62 charges laid for drug-related and other serious crimes. In June 2000 the heads of the Police Service, the Police Integrity Commission [PIC] and the Crime Commission began close co-operation on Mascot, upon which the current PIC Florida hearings are based. These hearings began on 8 October and are expected to run for some time.

Hundreds of serving and former police have already been scrutinised by this operation, and there are more to come. Corrupt police, past or present, should not make the mistake of thinking that they can tough it out this time. This is not an inquiry of limited duration like the Wood royal commission. This will continue for as long as it takes. There are no time limits. Corrupt police should take heed: There is nowhere to hide. Break the law and your own colleagues will investigate you. Clearly, the commissioner and his officers acted decisively. Had those involved not kept their silence they would never have fully exposed this web of corruption.

I can confirm that this investigation also triggered two other recent PIC hearings: Operation Pelican into the Oxford Tavern murders, and Operation Jetz into the police promotions system. Intelligence gathered during Mascot was forwarded to the National Crime Authority regarding a major drug importation and distribution network. The Australian Federal Police have also made a number of arrests relating to an ecstasy supply ring, based on intelligence also gathered from Mascot. Those who believe that Operation Mascot should have been shut down earlier would have us return to the dark old days. A limited investigation with a limited outcome! It takes great patience and courage to determine the level and extent of corruption within the Police Service. This investigation simply could not have happened in the past. It would have been compromised by a network of corrupt police, as so many other well-meaning inquiries were.

Operation Mascot's success relied on ethical policing, determination, communication and a disciplined command structure—the hallmarks of ongoing reform. Anti-corruption efforts and reform will not stop because a few are not prepared to embrace change or are not up to the challenge. If they work against us we will meet them head on. I am determined, along with the thousands of policemen and women under the command of Commissioner Ryan, to rid the Police Service of as many crooked police as we can find. As Commissioner Ryan has already warned corrupt police: We are coming to get you.

Manly detective admits to corruption 2001

PM Archive - Tuesday, 16 October , 2001 Reporter: Peter Lloyd Mark Colvin COMPERE: Brave, courageous, resolute and noble are some of the dictionary definitions of Manly, but there's not much of any of those qualities in the evidence emerging about the most Senior Detective at Manly Police Station in Sydney's Northern Beaches. At the Police Integrity Commission Inquiry he's admitted he was on the take from fellow corrupt officers. Detective Sergeant Raymond Peattie, who's been suspended from the service, revealed that his personal corruption stemmed from the early 1980s. It ranged from stealing cash from drug dealers to fabricating incriminating statements from suspects - a practice known as 'verballing'. I must warn you that Peter Lloyd's report from the inquiry contains audio in which a police officer uses strong language. If you're likely to be offended I suggest you switch off for the next three minutes. PETER LLOYD: Big, burly and gruff voiced, Detective Sergeant Raymond Peattie could be the hardened cop straight from central casting. His fall from grace is now moving at lightning speed, but can be traced back two decades to when he first accepted cash for turning a blind eye to illegal gaming and betting. In the late 1980s he graduated to taking regular payments in return for laying off certain drug dealers. In his own words he faced temptation and failed. In recent years he's been the Crime Manager at Manly Police Station, supervising 14 officers including Detectives David Patterson and Matthew Jasper. They are the two officers so far accused of taking massive bribes in exchange for green-lighting the operations of a number of drug dealers. Detective Sergeant Peattie admits taking 'hush money' from them and doing nothing to curb their corruption - quite the opposite, in fact. Last year he put both men in charge of a special drugs task force meant to increase arrest figures. The Detective Sergeant denied doing it to make sure the 'hush money' kept on coming. Within a week of Detectives Jasper and Patterson being arrested last December, Mr Peattie took sick leaving claiming a depression and anxiety disorder. Today he denied feigning illness to claim disability payments, but that seemed at odds with a surveillance recording of a conversation between Mr Peattie and a fellow officer code-named M5 in which he confides about his diagnosis. The recording has been edited to delete some of the bluer expletives used by Detective Peattie - one almost for every sentence he utters. DETECTIVE SERGEANT RAYMOND PEATTIE: I went to my psych, right? I've had four sessions with him now. The first one obviously fucking just discussed the structure of the police force, blah, blah. The second one he was going to Italy at the end of the week and he really rushed me off. M5: Mm. RAYMOND PEATTIE: And I went to a psychologist and she put me in the fucking top 10 per cent of depressed [edit] and I thought that was beautiful and I think I got tea and coffee and I didn't fucking put it on enough for this bloke. At the end of the second session he said to me, he said, 'Well, mate, I don't think you've got a mental disorder', and I said well neither do I, and he said, 'but I don't think you've got an anxiety or depressive disorder, either'. M5: Oh.. RAYMOND PEATTIE: And I went, oh fuck - that made me depressed. M5: Mm. RAYMOND PEATTIE: And I said, 'Oh, well, with due respects I haven't told you fucking half of what's gone on yet', I thought this is fucking not wrong. He said, 'Look' . and then he left me and said, 'Fill in this questionnaire and make a new appointment'. And he come back out of his room and he said 'mate, I'll help you, you just tell me what I need to hear' type of thing and he's virtually saying listen, stupid fucker, put it on. And he said, 'and write out a page for me. Write out all your feelings for me. I want to know how things have made you feel'. M5: Mm. RAYMOND PEATTIE: Now today when I've gone and seen him again he's . oh, fucking done me. Now he's got me highly depressed and fucking all this sort of stuff and prescribing these fucking sipilings [phonetic] or some fucking thing. M5: Mm. RAYMOND PEATTIE: So why I rang you is, mate, have you heard of sipilings and fucking was that the thing they give you that they [inaudible] at the centre? Apart from that, have you? I've got to take these fuckers [inaudible] with me. Is that alright? M5: Yeah. RAYMOND PEATTIE: So that's why I've rung you today. M5: Right. PETER LLOYD: Before he went on sick leave, Detective Sergeant Peattie was involved in the drawing up of a corruption prevention plan for fellow officers. When asked today by Peter Hastings QC, counsel assisting the commission, if the farce of that situation occurred to him, Peattie replied, 'No, sir'. COMPERE: Peter Lloyd, whose ears are still burning.

Bent NSW cops hooked on drugs

5:00 AM Saturday Oct 13, 2001 

Corruption in the New South Wales police has become legendary and, despite valiant reform efforts, the poison of drug dealing continues, as BILLY ADAMS reports.

When a royal commission was set up to investigate corruption within Australia's biggest police force, cynics suggested finding the cops who weren't bent would be the real challenge.

The subsequent inquiry laid bare a rotten culture that exposed police involvement in, among other things, drug trafficking and violent crime.

Four years later, after a huge shake-up, the British copper brought in to clean up the mess maintains New South Wales police is a changed organisation.

But a sensational new case in Sydney has highlighted the tough task still facing its commissioner, Peter Ryan, and brought back stark memories of the now legendary inquiry headed by Justice Wood.

This week the Police Integrity Commission (PIC) was told that some of its officers effectively ran the illegal drug trade in one part of Sydney.

The witness box was filled with a series of dealers who claimed crooked detectives had blackmailed them and stolen their illicit goods and cash.

Coming from men of questionable character, the truth of their testimony might be questioned. But in this case it has been backed by hundreds of hours of secretly recorded conversations featuring police and dealers, the result of a marathon undercover investigation codenamed Operation Florida.

The names of two plain-clothed officers - Detective Senior Constables David Patison and Matthew Jasper - came up most frequently. They operated out of the station in the beach suburb of Manly, but catching criminals appeared to be far from the top of their priority list.

The commission was told that for eight years they, along with their supervisor, Sergeant Ray Peattie, ran the drug trade on the affluent North Shore.

They demanded bribes in exchange for downgrading charges. And dealers were "green-lighted" to continue their activities if they paid weekly protection money.

Vincent Caccamo, who is believed to be one of the North Shore's biggest heroin suppliers, first met Patison and Jasper early last year when they came looking for him over outstanding drug supply charges.

He says they stole $A24,000 in drug money from a friend, and took a further $A8000 from a bedroom before arresting him on the earlier supply charge.

Caccamo claimed the officers arranged bail for a bribe of $A10,000, and later offered to drop the supply charge from 1.5kg to 42g for a payment of $A80,000. They would allow him to continue selling drugs if he also paid them $1000 a week.

In an 11-month period Caccamo estimated he paid the two officers $92,000, but couldn't be sure of the exact amount. "I gave them so much money that I really can't remember."

It was a source of frustration captured by police tapes as Caccamo complained about the bribes to an acquaintance.

Caccamo: "I said [to the detective], 'Look, if I was doing the business that I was doing back then I'd pay you two grand a week and I'd make two grand a week, right?' I said, 'But I'm not doing it'.

"But he doesn't believe me. He goes, you know, 'If you don't sell half an ounce a day, I'll cut your dick off.' Every cent I make f ... in' goes to them."

A: "You're gonna have to renegotiate it with'em."

Caccamo: "Twenty-eight grand they've got off me already. No wonder I'm f ... in' so behind in my bills and shit."

While Caccamo did nothing to disguise his discussions, the detectives, unaware they were being overheard let alone filmed, were more slippery in attempts to disguise their conversation topics.

They reverted to fishing terms. A "slimy mackerel" referred to $A1000, "tackle" was smaller change.

Not content with their drugs dealings, the commission was told they arranged meetings between dealers to increase business.

A cannabis dealer - codenamed B5 - who was also on the detectives' pay roll had lost his supplier. So the officers introduced him to Caccamo. At a meeting arranged by the police, B5 discussed the racket with Caccamo and his acquaintance.

B5: "I was gonna, you know, just completely quit. But he's given me the green light. He'd let me know if anyone around my area would get done."

Caccamo: "You either pay him or you gotta quit cause he will pinch ya."

A: "It's like paying rent, it's like having a shop and paying rent, that's all it is."

B5: "Being taxed, tax. Ya reckon I'm all right paying two grand a month? I mean, I can afford it, I can afford it."

A: "You're laughing, mate. That's chickenfeed."

C: "I'm paying a grand a week."
 
B5: "That's a lot, f ... , he's making heaps."

B5 came to Patison and Jasper's attention in a raid on his home last May. As officers burst in he threw 1.8kg of marijuana into a neighbour's yard. There was $A40,000 hidden in a dirty sock in a laundry basket.

But he received only a small possession charge. The reason revolved around a conversation which B5 claims took place in the car.

"We can either split the money four ways, you will get some back," Patison allegedly told him. "Or we can go back and you can get arrested for the marijuana in your next-door neighbour's yard."

His share, $10,000, was given back when he was being driven home.

Another raid a few months later, on the dealer's car, yielded a haul of $A12,000 of drugs and $A31,000 in cash. But this time it was properly confiscated, thanks to the presence of "honest cops".
But Patison allegedly told B5 the money could still be retrieved, and put him in touch with a long-time friend, solicitor Martin Green.

The meeting was taped and played to the commission which heard that Green was party to a scam to produce false receipts that would indicate the seized money was not criminal proceeds.

B5 is said to have turned informer when the detectives made further bribe demands.

Similar patterns ran through the testimony of other dealers who gave evidence about officers from Manly and other commands on the North Shore.

One security guard working at last year's Olympics was found with more than 10 boxes of steroids.

On the journey to the station a listening device picked up Patison saying that he had found $A30,000 in a bedroom drawer, but had left it there.

"What I'm trying to say to you is that we'll be fairly negotiable with all this too," Patison told the suspect. "We can write a lot of this stuff off ... "

The dealer was charged with possession, rather than supply, of restricted substances. After being granted bail he was driven home, where police returned some of his steroids and took $A23,000 from the bedroom. He later pleaded guilty and received an 18-month good behaviour bond.

Caccamo, who has allegedly been a heroin user since 1985, is in jail today facing several charges, including supplying 1.5kg of heroin and 1kg of marijuana.

He claims Sergeant Ray Peattie first stole from him in 1989, a bribe apparently used as payment to downgrade a supply charge to one of possession.

When asked to explain how he knew one dealer was on the pay roll of police, he replied: "He's been dealing for 20 years, open house. You can't do that without protection."

Jasper and Patison, who were arrested and charged last December with soliciting bribes of more than $20,000, are two of six officers named as being involved in the activities being considered by the commission.

Twenty-two people have been summoned to appear at the hearing, including a suspected corrupt detective turned informer - codenamed M5 - who has been operating undercover since 1998.

There is little doubt that the bad apples stretch far beyond the tranquil surrounds of the northern beaches.

The Wood Royal Commission's findings in 1997 of widespread corruption throughout the NSW force merely confirmed the huge problem that many had long suspected.

The burgeoning drug trade of the past 30 years has provided ample funds with which to lace the greasy palms of susceptible and unscrupulous cops.

They reaped the rewards of the bribes, and often used information from their dealer to quash competition. That had the added bonus of keeping arrest rates high.

The establishment of the PIC commission was just one part of a shake-up aimed at rooting out not only hundreds of corrupt officers, but a mindset which saw nothing wrong with the corruption in the first place.

Removing the old guard has been far from easy. Last year a PIC audit found that internal police investigations are "biased", and pursued with less vigour than criminal investigations. Another audit of the service said that while "some real progress had been achieved", the reform process was "systematically limited", fragmented, patchy, slow and in some areas had come to a complete halt.

Ryan rejected the findings, arguing the service was a changed organisation. But while he admits weeding out corruption could take a generation, he believes the success of Operation Florida - which is expected to continue through most of next year - proves police are on the right track.

"I mean, this is terrible, but it's choices they are making," he told the Australian Broadcasting Commission.

"All the systems and procedures in the world and supervision in the world isn't going to stop these people doing that.

"It is almost like they are traitors in our midst, they are giving up the police service, they are giving up their colleagues to the hands of criminals. They are embarrassing us beyond belief."

Directing Traffic

Australian Broadcasting Corporation

FOUR CORNERS

Investigative TV journalism at its best

Date 9.10.2001

The inside story of a three year undercover investigation into NSW police corruption.

CHRIS MASTERS: Today, the Police Integrity Commission in NSW began hearings into a reference it has called Florida.

You will hear a lot more about Florida in months and years to come.

For the past two and a half years, NSW Internal Affairs police have undertaken a most remarkable undercover operation.

C: I know three people that have been dealing for years and years and years and they've been paying him and they've never come undone.

B5: Is that right?

C: And if they do come undone, they're fuckin' out the next day.

B5: Right, right.

C: Know what I mean?

They've never been to jail, they just cop a fuckin' slap on the wrist and they're back selling the next day.

B5: I was gonna, you know, just completely quit, but he's given me the green light.

CHRIS MASTERS: What we're about to see exposed is the anatomy of the street drugs market.

What is about to be answered is the long-asked question -- why does the drugs trade continue to flourish despite expensive and extensive efforts to stop it?

In all its sordid detail, an explanation has been under our noses all along.

C: You either gotta pay him and go ahead or you gotta quit 'cause he'll pinch ya.

D: It's like paying rent, it's like having a shop and paying rent.

That's all it is.

B5: Yeah being taxed, tax.

CHRIS MASTERS: The marathon undercover operation brings to the surface a glimpse of the way the Australian drugs underworld operates.

B5: You reckon I'm alright paying two grand a month?

I mean, I can afford it, I can afford it.

D: You're laughing mate.

That's chickenfeed.

C: I'm paying a grand a week.

B5: That's a lot.

Fuck, he's making heaps.

CHRIS MASTERS: But you will have to watch closely because if you blink, you'll miss it because the devil is in the detail.

D: Let me tell you something.

Don't tell anyone.

B5: Yeah?

D: Don't tell anyone.

B5: Nah, fuck nah mate.

D: Not one single person.

B5: Yeah, not a chance man.

Dead set.

CHRIS MASTERS: Six years ago, Inspector Graham 'Chook' Fowler was caught taking bribes for allowing crime to flourish, particularly in Sydney's Kings Cross.

MAN ON TAPE: I said, "Mate, I don't know what you want to do with him, "how you want to f approach him for bail "or f what you want to do, but like -- " CHRIS MASTERS: The Wood Royal Commission made a range of similar discoveries which were followed by reform recommendations including the establishment of the Police Integrity Commission.

Lawyer Chris Murphy is another to campaign against crooked police.

CHRIS MURPHY, CRIMINAL LAWYER: I do believe that if you forget history, it repeats itself.

Police seem to have a lot of leeway still.

They appear to be directionless and I think it's open for crooked characters to take control.

PETER RYAN, NSW POLICE COMMISSIONER: The past comes to haunt the future.

If change is necessary and you haven't cleaned up the past, whatever is lying in there and the people who were responsible for it will surface again.

DR DON WEATHERBURN, BUREAU OF CRIME STATISTICS AND RESEARCH: Well, I think it's always naive to imagine that you can completely eliminate corruption from policing, whether it be in NSW or any other State of Australia.

There are large numbers of police, enormous amounts of money involved.

And I think we realistically ought to aim at trying to minimise corruption and preventing it becoming systemic.

CHRIS MASTERS: Even while the Wood Inquiry was going on, so was corruption, and not just in Kings Cross.

So they looked further in what might seem an unlikely direction.

Sydney's North Shore is home to comfort and wealth that can for a time hide an addiction to heroin.

LOUISE LIN: She started at 12.

She's 14.

FRANK FEATHERSTONE: Nothing would be too bad.

You'd steal a car.

You'd rob a house.

Um --

Bash someone up.

Uh, what do -- drug addicts do when they become part-time criminals, I suppose.

LOUISE LIN: Well, you feel like you're a prisoner in your own home.

I can't give my daughter keys anymore.

I have to be here constantly to let her in, to let her out.

Um, I feel like --

I don't feel safe.

I don't feel safe in my own home.

JUDY SKIPPER: When it happened, it was quite devastating for us as a family -- that we could not --

I mean, here we are, a little middle-class family, never had anything to do with the police, really.

CHRIS MASTERS: In NSW, more than 80 per cent of imprisonments are for drug-related crime.

NSW has more than half Australia's 74,000 heroin users who spend an estimated $2.6 billion on their drug of choice.

CHRIS MURPHY: Well, over the last decade, there's probably been a doubling of the number of dependent heroin users.

It's certainly rapidly risen over the last five to ten years.

And it's dragged with it, right across the country, offences such as robbery and break, enter and steal.

CHRIS MASTERS: A good beginning to the story is here, out the back of a major police centre on the north side, the Chatswood Local Area Command.

Rattled by the Wood Inquiry, police decided to move a stock of illegal weapons they kept hidden.

They took the guns, drove north and picked up this boat from one of their supervisors.

They launched the boat, loaded with as many as 100 cut-down shotguns, rifles, pistols and the like, and headed out along the river.

If commuters heading home at dusk had looked down, they might have seen an incredible sight -- police dumping their own dirty history into the deepest channel of the Hawkesbury River.

Four years later, a very different group of police on a very different mission set about recovering the evidence.

CHRIS MURPHY: You've got to remember that the infrastructure of the police force was to cheat.

That was in the '70s.

Even when there wasn't money around, the police would cheat.

Some of them -- the good police -- would say, "We do God's work when God forgets."

They knew someone committed a crime, they couldn't get them, they'd plant a gun on them.

CHRIS MASTERS: But tonight's report is not all about what happened in the past.

It is about what is happening now.

And with that in mind, let me introduce Vincent Anthony Caccamo.

VINCENT CACCAMO: Yeah, OK wait for me there.

I'll go to the BP to get the money and I'll come straight down.

OK, OK, Ciao.

CHRIS MASTERS: Caccamo is believed by police to be one of Sydney's Northern Beaches' biggest heroin suppliers.

He has operated since the mid-'80s, principally within the region of one of Australia's most famous beachside suburbs, Manly.

For the period of this surveillance operation, Caccamo had a sidekick and driver.

The two of them would make as many as three trips a day, most days, to pick up the heroin.

CACCAMO: I gave the police $800 worth, right.

I just gave Jamie 300 OK, that's 11 and there's about 1.8 left in the fuckin' bag.

CHRIS MURPHY: The larger the quantity, the bigger the jail sentence.

You get caught with a kilo, you could spend the whole of the next 15 years of your life in a jail cell.

So you go and get it and you come back.

CHRIS MASTERS: Caccamo would buy about seven grams at a time for his special rate, usually $1,150.

On occasions, he would send the dealers' payments offshore to foreign bank accounts.

But more often, he would collect the money nearby and pay in cash.

The exchange would occur in this public park where sporting competitions were held, joggers sweated and mums pushed prams.

The pusher in this case is part of a major Romanian syndicate.

He supplies as many as ten others like Caccamo.

And despite a current heroin drought, this particular dealer's stash appears endless.

As you see here, he would go into the park, often on his pushbike, and secrete the order.

As you see here, Caccamo would be there to do the pick-up soon after.

Before they would leave, Caccamo and his mate would frequently sample the gear themselves.

But most was kept to sell.

On the way back, they would constantly grumble about the oppressive overheads of their chosen profession.

CACCAMO: How do they justify $150 for that letter, hey?

Like, OK, fair enough when he's in the courtroom he's using his expertise.

DRIVER: He can't hit you for that high a price --

not when he writes you a letter.

And the funny thing is lawyers and solicitors are just so flat out, every one of them.

They've all got heaps of work.

CHRIS MURPHY: Every user of heroin at some stage becomes a dealer, by definition.

They supply to their friends.

They've got to pay for their supplies.

They should be distinguished from those who are only in it for material enrichment, for gratification.

CHRIS MASTERS: Caccamo, with an annual tax-free cash flow in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, lives a comfortable and otherwise inconspicuous life.

Here at his home, he would prepare the heroin and then arrange for his runners to distribute it.

Caccamo's main runner is also a user.

One favoured method of pushing was by bike.

He would make his deliveries upon request, usually via mobile phone.

Here, police surveillance captures Caccamo's runner and a client doing their business.

According to police, along this small strip, an astonishing amount of business is done and it's been like this for decades.

JUDY SKIPPER: They started listing mobile phone calls and I noticed that there were so many and very short phone calls.

And I asked him who they were for and he said, "Oh, they're just friends."

OLGA VASSAROTTI: He had a lot of quick phone calls, very quick phone calls.

And, well, he would just rush out the door, you know, and be back in a few minutes.

So it was obvious that he was getting it from that area.

LOUISE LIN: You don't need an antenna.

People see you.

And that's exactly right.

I think that she would be able to just walk along the street and someone would go up and approach her because of the way she looks.

She's a target.

FRANK FEATHERSTONE: At one stage, he said to me, "I feel like a piece of shit."

Well, I don't use that language, but it said how he thought about it.

CHRIS MASTERS: The commission has been told that early last year, Caccamo was charged with drug supply and released on bail.

While out on bail in a five-month period, he was known to move over a kilo of heroin with a street value of more than $1 million.

The question of how and why he continued to operate despite the attention of police has a simple explanation.

Caccamo was franchised just as hamburgers are franchised.

In the vernacular, he was green-lighted.

PETER RYAN, NSW POLICE COMMISSIONER: It makes me very angry indeed -- you would have thought they would have taken their lesson from what happened in the royal commission and to what happened since when we actually arrested people in other operations -- that this sort of thing still goes on.

They're very foolish to think they would not be caught.

And it's just really reminiscent of what used to happen in the old days where people are giving crooks free run in return for money.

And I'm very angry that these sorts of things have been revealed yet again.

CHRIS MASTERS: After last year's arrest, Caccamo connected with this man, Detective Senior Constable David Patison of Manly Police.

Patison and his frequent partner, Detective Senior Constable Matthew Jasper, it appears allowed the heroin dealer to continue to operate after payment of a lump sum and promised instalments of $1,000 a week.

CHRIS MURPHY: In those early days, police corruption evolved, in that they cheated to get convictions.

Then the flood of gold came into the market from in the late '70s with the arrival of heroin.

The money was massive and the police had the right to decide who was guilty.

It was only a very small step to accepting money to let people off.

And then they licensed dealers.

Dealers would deal for years.

CHRIS MASTERS: It is a common arrangement all across Australia.

The dealer is free to operate.

Corrupt police get paid to protect him.

They use information from the dealer to limit competition and thereby appear to keep their arrest rates up.

To the corrupt parties, it can seem like a good arrangement.

Although in this case, Caccamo did show signs of stress about keeping up his payments.

CACCAMO: I had to borrow money yesterday to pay fuckin' you know who this afternoon you know.

DRIVER: Yeah, only just getting through really, hey?

CACCAMO: Yeah well, see that fucks me every week.

But I mean you've gotta have it, otherwise it's too risky you know.

CHRIS MASTERS: The weekly meetings were often here in the car park alongside a busy shopping mall.

But the drug community being what it is, arrangements were dogged by unreliability.

The drug dealer was scratching hard to make his payments, let alone make them at the arranged time.

JASPER: Yeah Vince, how ya going?

CACCAMO: Hey Matt, sorry about yesterday eh.

But my battery went flat and I couldn't get your number out.

JASPER: That's alright cobber.

Can we do that thing today?

CACCAMO: Yeah, I'll give it to you this afternoon bud and I'll give you an extra hundred for the hassle alright.

JASPER: What about three?

CACCAMO: Ah, can I give you a ring?

It'll be around that time -- all depends on what time we head over to the other side.

JASPER: No problems, OK, I'll wait to hear from you.

CACCAMO: I'll give you a call alright?

JASPER: Thanks mate.

CACCAMO: Thanks Matt.

See ya.

CHRIS MASTERS: When the meetings occurred, it was like this.

Caccamo would wait.

The police officer -- in this case, Patison -- would join him.

And the payment, it appears, would be made here in the stairwell.

Caccamo would return to the driver's car and as often as not, they would set off to score all over again.

And it went on like this for months.

CACCAMO: I gave him four or five.

He was all dressed up, probably going to a brothel, the cunt.

$290 left.

DRIVER: You're kidding me.

CACCAMO: So I've got to make $290, and I gave Jamie $340.

I've got to make another $850.

That means another 21 deals.

CHRIS MASTERS: Caccamo rarely bothered to resort to code to conceal the arrangements other than referring to getting the paperwork -- meaning money -- together.

The police, on the other hand, unaware they are themselves being reeled in, use fishing terms to mask their corruption.

JASPER: I went to see that bloke at the fishing shop.

He was there -- he had dramas.

Getting all that other tackle in, like the heavy stuff.

He fuckin' had another couple of other lures so I grabbed them.

And he reckons he'll have some more on Friday just some other smaller lures.

Just for that fuckin' fishing he's already been doing anyway.

So I didn't see any great dramas with that.

PATISON: Ah, that's alright.

JASPER: I just grabbed what lures he had sort of thing and just fuckin' took the tackle box off him.

TELEPHONE MESSAGE: One slimy mackerel.

CHRIS MASTERS: A 'slimy mackerel', it appeared, meant they'd just caught $1,000 and 'tackle' meant 'smaller change'.

JASPER: I heard your message.

PATISON: Yeah, one slimy mackerel.

JASPER: What, you going to get some more tackle later or what?

PATISON: That's all I can tell you about, yeah, there's some more tackle yeah.

JASPER: Yeah, no worries.

CHRIS MURPHY: The language depended on the squad -- your old vice squad and that -- the things from the past.

But, uh -- they had a hand movement like a duck, where they'd swing their hand back like that and that meant, you know, "Where's the money?"

And that expression they stole from the racecourse -- "If you don't sling, don't ring."

CACCAMO: They're getting money every week, they're getting $500 each.

$500 a week should be plenty mate, plenty.

DRIVER: That's right.

When they first gave you that figure Vince said you shoulda haggled it then.

CACCAMO: I said look -- if I was doing the business that I was doing back then I'd pay you two grand a week and I'd make two grand a week, right?

I said, but I'm not doing it.

But he doesn't believe me he goes, you know, if you don't sell a half an ounce a day, I'll cut your dick off.

Every cent I make fuckin' goes to them.

DRIVER: You're gonna have to renegotiate it with 'em.

CACCAMO: 28 grand they've got off me already.

No wonder I'm fuckin' so behind in my bills and shit.

Everything I've made's gone to them.

CHRIS MASTERS: The arrangement was such that it soon became obvious the police were not just protecting the drug dealer, but encouraging him to greater enterprise.

And there's no better example of that than in the story of the man the Integrity Commission has codenamed 'B5'.

Around the Northern Beaches, he did a profitable trade in cannabis.

On May 11 last year, following a tip-off, Manly police executed a search warrant on his home.

Two of the officers present you've already met -- Detective Senior Constables Patison and Jasper, who were again unaware they were being watched or, more to the point, listened to.

OFFICER: We're the police.

Open the door.

We're the police.

Open the door.

MAN: Open it up, mate!

CHRIS MASTERS: Although a softer drug, there is good, hard cash in cannabis, and, on that day, there were wads of it waiting to be found.

POLICMAN 1: Are we going to take a video of this?

POLICEMAN 2: No.

CHRIS MASTERS: Immediately following the discovery of the money, they were gone, heading back to the station.

Although aware they had left behind a large quantity of drugs, neither this nor the money was mentioned as the beginnings of a deal were struck with the dealer.

POLICEMAN 1: I'll just it in me notebook, just write out some questions -- just about the grass and a few other things and those other little fuckin' steroids and mate, we should have you outta here in about an hour and a half if everything goes to plan, OK?

So there's gonna be -- you're happy, there's no dramas at this stage?

Right, let's go.

CHRIS MASTERS: True to their word, the dealer is charged with a small possession offence, which later earns him a $200 fine.

The confiscated $40,000 does not make it into the records.

CHRIS MURPHY: If you're a drug dealer, police break into your house and you've got a gram of heroin and you've got $100,000 in cash, it was implicit, for your sake and the police's sake, that you're better off without the $100,000 in cash and it would disappear.

DR DON WEATHERBURN, BUREAU OF CRIME STATISTICS AND RESEARCH: Well, certainly the dealer isn't going to complain, or, if they do, no-one's going to believe them.

There will be no other witnesses, besides the police who are with you.

CHRIS MASTERS: Later, police divided up the $40,000 between three of them, with around $10,000 going back to the dealer.

As this conversation recorded at the time shows, they were happy with their day's work.

POLICEMAN 1: There was a bag in his room, chock-a-block.

There's 40 in the bag.

It's all bundled up in ten grand lots.

Beautiful.

Ten grand each, and probably about nine for him I suppose.

POLICEMAN 2: Fuck me dead.

Fucking shit myself.

Happy days.

POLICEMAN 1: There was probably about nine I suppose for him and I think we'll just take the three quarter each and say that's your fuckin' 30 -- that keeps you out of gaol and we could have kept the lot and charged you with supply -- he'd be doing five years.

We might have to give the big eared bloke a slice of it.

POLICEMAN 2: The big eared bloke?

Oh, Ray.

CHRIS MASTERS: Not yet lunchtime, some of the group retired for a celebratory drink or two.

A few more police were also cut in on the arrangement.

From the money already divided, some hundreds were given to other officers, including a supervisor, Detective Sergeant Ray Peattie.

POLICEMAN 1: I give Peattie some of his money -- he knows I'm keeping that much.

I'll give to him fuckin' when he needs it I said, not now.

I'll not give it to him tonight either when he asks me cause it just goes straight in the pokies.

I'll give it to him when he's got no money to pay the bills.

POLICEMAN 2: Give him all fuckin' that and it's fuckin' all gone that night.

CHRIS MASTERS: The cannabis dealer would be encouraged to continue his business.

Patison and Jasper planned to tax him in the way they taxed the heroin dealer, Caccamo.

Here, Detective Jasper contemplates the billing arrangement.

JASPER: He can give us one a week -- 15 a week, that's 500, that's alright.

Mmm, I can't see why he wouldn't be able to do that.

MAN: Or happy to.

JASPER: He's obviously doing enough business to be able to ah, cope with that.

CHRIS MASTERS: In August 2000, there was another search, this time of the cannabis dealer's car, and more drugs and money were seized.

But the presence on this occasion of honest police meant the $12,000 drug haul and the $31,000 in cash had to be recorded.

POLICEMAN 1: They (the straight police) have no idea.

But we have to be good in 's eyes.

POLICEMAN 2: Oh, absolutely.

Been there.

Count it all out.

Yeah, it's all right.

Got to get a couple like that.

CHRIS MASTERS: What Patison was saying, and what is explained again by Jasper, was there's also profit in occasionally appearing to be honest.

POLICEMAN 1: $44,OOO we've fuckin' recovered for the NSW Government.

POLICEMAN 2: Oh, isn't that decent of us.

POLICEMAN 1: That's right.

CHRIS MASTERS: But never mind, a plan was soon hatched to get the money back -- a plan involving a former Manly police officer and friend of Patison, who now practises as a solicitor, Martin Green.

Detective Patison appeared to encourage the cannabis dealer to produce false receipts, that would indicate the money seized was not criminal proceeds.

The dealer was sent with the $44,000 worth of receipts to see Green, who appeared to know Patison's ways.

B5: Pato's going to want a bit of money I think from this.

GREEN: Yeah, I think that's what he's interested in.

Now just in terms of our fee.

I'm happy not to sort of make too much fuss about that because no doubt the money'll come back to you as cash.

Now we don't want to disturb John Howard and his cronies in terms of, you know, raising bills and having to charge you GST and all that sort of stuff.

B5: Ah, yeah, that's what I'm worried about as well, yeah.

GREEN: So, I mean we can talk about that but if, what if there -- three grand, I guess if we took our cut as about ahh -- CHRIS MASTERS: So, the solicitor cooperates with the drug dealer and the police officer, to plan the recovery of criminal proceeds, which they would share.

CHRIS MURPHY: Corrupt police prosecutors, corrupt lawyers, and they facilitated the system.

And I believe that police were corrupted because they were able to be corrupted.

At the end of the day, you look to the system and blame the system that it let it happen.

CHRIS MASTERS: At this stage, as it happens, it was the cannabis dealer who seemed the most uncomfortable with the system being imposed on him.

At earlier meetings with the detective here at the Manly Swim Centre, Patison had demanded a lump-sum payment of $15,000 and ongoing monthly payments of $2,000 in order to maintain protection.

When the cannabis dealer said he had lost his supplier, Patison, very much directing traffic, pushed upon him a new one, who just happened to be the heroin dealer Vince Caccamo.

Caccamo, who was still having trouble making his payments, was happy to do a bit more business, and this was dutifully arranged by Detective Patison seen here exchanging telephone numbers with Caccamo.

The cannabis dealer, who was also given Caccamo's number by Patison, agrees, without noticeable enthusiasm, to a $6,000 buy.

PATISON: It's six a kilo.

B5: Ah, for sure, yeah as long as it's good.

PATISON: He was saying it was good head stuff.

B5: Well, I'll start with one, yeah.

Any chance of getting ripped off?

PATISON: No, mate, no, no.

CHRIS MASTERS: The next day, Patison met again with the cannabis dealer to allay his concerns about the quality of the product and the arrangement.

B5: I've just had that much bad luck, you know.

PATISON: Mate look, I guarantee ya, I guarantee you it's 100 per cent.

CHRIS MASTERS: Two days later, the meeting between the heroin dealer and the cannabis dealer, arranged by the police, occurred, and the two discussed the intricacies of the drugs market and its overlaying protection racket.

B5: I was gonna, you know just completely quit.

But he's given me the green light.

He'd let me know if anyone around my area would get done.

CACCAMO: You either pay him or you gotta quit cause he will pinch ya.

DRIVER: It's like paying rent, it's like having a shop and paying rent, that's all it is.

B5: Being taxed, tax.

Ya reckon I'm alright paying two grand a month?

I mean, I can afford it, I can afford it.

DRIVER: You're laughing mate.

That's chickenfeed.

CACCAMO: I'm paying a grand a week.

B5: That's a lot, fuck, he's making heaps.

PETER RYAN, NSW POLICE COMMISSIONER: They're letting us all down, every single one of us -- they're letting us down.

It's almost like they are traitors in our midst.

They are giving up the police service.

They are giving up their colleagues to the hands of criminals.

They're embarrassing us beyond belief.

They're causing more difficulties.

But the worrying part, of course, in it is their tentacles and networks across the whole of the service are creating other difficulties, other areas, criticisms here and there, and disruption.

And that really is the wickedness of the whole thing.

CHRIS MASTERS: To get a better sense of the broader patterns of corruption in this and other local areas, Internal Affairs police began, last year, to stage a series of what they call 'integrity tests'.

PETER RYAN: These are extreme circumstances.

Police officers are expected to act beyond reproach.

They are held to be of a behavioural standard above the rest of the community.

And if that standard is breached in any way, there has to be another extreme measure to try and balance up the equation.

That we will bring in an integrity test because we do expect a high standard.

CHRIS MASTERS: In June 2000, another search was conducted at Manly but this time, unknown to most police involved, it was an integrity test.

The unit to be searched was extensively monitored and wired.

A female undercover officer was present, acting the part of a friend of a suspected drug dealer.

A stash of money, drugs, scales etc had been secreted in this cupboard.

One police officer carries a video camera, which is supposed to be used to demonstrate procedures are properly followed.

The uniformed independent officer is also there to ensure integrity.

As you can see, the video camera is not used.

You will by now be familiar with the officer undertaking the search, Detective Senior Constable Patison.

He seems to have a talent for sniffing out drugs and money.

Within seven minutes of arrival, he finds the stash, which he secretly separates.

The drugs and lesser quantity of money, $2,230, he puts on the table.

The bulk of the money, $6,000, he has slipped into his shorts.

Patison goes outside soon after to check the money.

When police leave, they take the money, the drugs and two DVD players with them.

Patison later gives one of his colleagues $2,000, claiming it is half the total which is, in fact, $6,000, casting doubts on notions of sacred brotherhood let alone honour among thieves.

Later there is some muttering among the parties who are short-changed.

POLICEMAN 1: There was six, not four and he gave me two so I'll have to clarify it with the bloke next week but ah --

POLICEMAN 2: Right.

OK.

POLICEMAN 1: I'm not happy till we get to the bottom of this.

POLICEMAN 2: Well that's the rules.

They always said they're the same.

Pato's always played by them.

Well, they're my rules.

POLICEMAN 1: But even if you were leaving fuckin Jasper out it should have been three each if you know what I mean.

Not fuckin 2:4, you know what I mean?

POLICEMAN 2: It's always been equal parts.

POLICEMAN 1: Maybe he's getting a bit greedy I don't know.

POLICEMAN 2: Yeah, 'cause he's not like that.

POLICEMAN 1: I know he's gone over budget on his house so.

But even if that was the case I mean it's something which --

you don't dud your mates because you're never going to get in anything else again.

POLICEMAN 2: Exactly.

CHRIS MASTERS: Later, some amends were made when the uniformed Sergeant Hill -- who attended the scene as the independent officer -- was given $300.

POLICEMAN 1: Now, what is it?

POLICEMAN 2: Two by DVD players to be returned to.

POLICEMAN 1: No, what's the number do you know?

POLICEMAN 2: Ah, hang on.

Yeah, it's 5 ah, 584922.

POLICEMAN 1: Ah yes that's them.

Beautiful.

POLICEMAN 2: Like to sign the book?

sign them out?

POLICEMAN 1: Ah mate, they're not going anywhere.

Just give me the receipt now and we'll fix em up tomorrow morning.

POLICEMAN 2: OK, good as gold.

Thanks mate.

CHRIS MASTERS: Patison's partner Jasper got his prize seven weeks later when the books were fiddled in such a way as to have one of the seized DVD players, worth around $1,000, diverted to his custody.

PETER RYAN: The systems are there.

They just don't comply with them.

CHRIS MASTERS: And it wasn't as if some of these police were just prepared to steal money, they seemed to be actually eager to do so, looking for opportunities.

Did that shock you, surprise you?

PETER RYAN: It did.

Ahh -- it isn't just a matter of cultivating a criminal, and then saying, "I want part of your proceedings of crime, "and then I'll allow you to operate freely."

These people are actually actively going out looking for the opportunity to take money off people, a drug dealer, for example, or to encourage them to give them drugs or to work for them, so they were recruiting.

I mean, this is terrible.

But it's choices they are making.

All the systems and procedures in the world and supervision in the world isn't going to stop these people doing that.

How we can change their philosophy -- I'd love to be able to wire into them and program them anew and say, "You should not do this."

But they're human beings and, unfortunately, they make the choices.

CHRIS MASTERS: The big worry is the same worry that emerged through the Wood Royal Commission.

Where is the supervision that dissuades corruption?

Where is the vigilance that arrests it?

In August last year, the acting duty officer for Northern Beaches Command, Sergeant Mark Messenger, was asked whether he would illegally obtain confidential information about the cannabis dealer investigation.

The senior officer and supposed role model, Messenger, is seen wearing the shorts.

X: I just popped down to give fuckin' give you a present, that's all.

MESSENGER: Yeah, no worries.

X: It's in there mate.

MESSENGER: Lovely mate, I'm very happy with that mate.

X: No worries mate, it's five there so --

It's not the end of it.

I'll keep you appraised of how things are going.

Well mate I might have to come back to you that's all because it's your area that's the only thing.

I don't know who else to talk to, year know.

CHRIS MASTERS: This surveillance video records the follow-up meeting in a local park, where he delivers and is, in return, given $500 wrapped up in a newspaper.

MESSENGER: Mate it was, I couldn't find the brief anywhere.

But I got a copy of the fax and made it virtually said.

X: lets go talk in the van.

CHRIS MASTERS: The following month, another request is made for confidential information, and another meeting occurs in the car park of a local swim centre.

Over the years, selling intelligence to criminals has been a very good earner for corrupt lawyers and police.

Sergeant Messenger, who was also a local Police Association representative, is again wearing the shorts and singlet.

The cooperating police officer is in white.

X: Mate there's $1500 for that.

MESSENGER: You're kidding.

X: yeah, mate all you got to do is show it to him.

Satisfied.

It's all over and done with.

CHRIS MASTERS: Messenger hands over a fact sheet for which there's a down payment.

X: one, two, three, four, five.

That's yours mate.

MESSENGER: Yeah, no worries.

Not a problem mate.

CHRIS MASTERS: It is fair to say there were other supervisors at Manly trying to do the right thing, and still others like the then local area commander either not listening or not wanting to know.

RECEPTIONIST: I'll put you through to the commander.

One moment.

CALLER: Thank you.

GARY RAYMOND, FORMER COMMANDER MANLY POLICE: commander Gary Raymond, how can I help you?

CHRIS MASTERS: Earlier that year, when the commander was telephoned and warned by a local about police misconduct during searches, this was his response.

GARY RAYMOND: This is not the bad old days -- this is highly sophisticated procedures these days.

CALLER: Commander Raymond, right, don't tell me about the good old days, right, because they're still here, better than ever.

GARY RAYMOND: Don't be as gullible as other people surely.

PETER RYAN: But when a little team goes off and does a thing which is wrong, however wrong it might be, you can't stack up behind them on every occasion these serried ranks of supervisors to make sure each one is checking on the other.

It's just impossible.

CHRIS MASTERS: But do you take responsibility for failures further down the line?

PETER RYAN: What?

Me personally?

I feel I do.

I feel what is it we've done that we could have done better.

CHRIS MURPHY: In order to supervise police, you need senior officers you can trust, you need educated grassroots police you can trust, and you need to pay them an honourable wage that won't see them tempted.

But I think it's also implicit in any system that you must have someone -- to be a policeman -- who's prepared to enforce the law against other police officers.

POLICEMAN: There's a lot of moisture or water inside the jar.

CHRIS MASTERS: This inquiry has looked up at management culpability.

It has looked out at networks of corruption stretching across NSW and Australia.

And it's looked back.

POLICEMAN: 10 there.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 --

CHRIS MASTERS: There is a lot of history still to be dug up.

On this occasion, Internal Affairs police are recovering $2,000 in dirty money hidden by an officer who has admitted a wealth of corrupt payments.

CHRIS MURPHY: The situation that we have at present is that we've got managerial problems -- not Peter Ryan, the Commissioner's fault.

They're the fault of the fact that we had thousands of dishonest people working as policemen and we had to get rid of them.

And the replacement of the infrastructure is a very, very difficult task.

PETER RYAN: I think, um, just after the Royal Commission, Justice Wood in his report said, "This could take a generation to change."

And I agree with him.

People expect things to happen overnight, but it can't be.

You have to go into this for the long haul.

CHRIS MASTERS: But the old guard does not give up without a fight.

They yearn for the old ways.

On this occasion, an experienced detective with the elite Crime Agencies division laments the passing of the old days when you were afraid to take time off because of the rewards you might miss.

POLICEMAN 1: Will it ever get back to that?

POLICEMAN 2: I don't think so.

It might.

POLICEMAN 1: It won't because there aren't enough of us left gunna be left to teach them.

CHRIS MASTERS: Many of these detectives have convinced themselves that despite their overt corruption, they are still effective.

DR DON WEATHERBURN: The notion -- the old notion -- that somehow or other the only way to reduce crime is to get pally with crooks, and get information on people you can subsequently arrest, is quite naive and antiquated.

There are very effective strategies for reducing crime that don't involve talking to offenders at all.

CHRIS MASTERS: Many corrupt police observed during this inquiry have collected hundreds of thousands in dirty money over the years.

Detective Patison put some of the cash into improving his home, but most operate under the taxman's radar and don't put it into visible assets.

POLICEMAN 1: That's the trouble with cops and fuckin' quids.

You know like, ya can really only use it for fuckin' pissing against the wall and shit like that.

POLICEMAN 2: You can't really turn it into a house can you?

POLICEMAN 1: Nah.

POLICEMAN 2: I'm still happy.

CHRIS MASTERS: The corruption over the years has accommodated prodigious drinking and alcoholism.

There have been numerous examples uncovered of police using their power to conceal drink-driving accidents.

There are numerous stories of all day and night drinking sessions charged up as overtime.

PETER RYAN: They seemed to think that all sitting around with a few glasses of beer and talking over the job or whatever is a good way of doing business.

It's generally avoiding work, in my view.

CHRIS MASTERS: On this day, the old-time sergeant Ray Peattie was recorded talking about the rules of corruption and his view of the ideal crook.

SERGEANT RAY PEATTIE: He's robbable.

POLICEMAN: Yeah.

SERGEANT RAY PEATTIE: That would be the way to go, lock him up, fuckin' rob him give him fuckin' 10 per cent off for a letter.

He'd expect to be fuckin' robbed.

He wouldn't complain.

CHRIS MASTERS: As the day wears on -- and sobriety wears off -- he counsels against making weekly arrangements to collect money.

SERGEANT RAY PEATTIE: Each collection will be a fuckin' danger zone.

Bad way of doing business.

CHRIS MASTERS: There are also indications of similar patterns of behaviour across State boundaries.

Corrupt police talk of an unwritten rule of hosting visiting interstate police, falsifying accommodation receipts, and being allowed to book up fictitious overtime in order to cover the costs.

When NSW police visit other States, they say they observe the same behaviour you have seen tonight.

What reason have you to believe that corruption patterns in NSW, as revealed today, do or do not exist in other States?

PETER RYAN: I have no proof.

But I would say they do.

There is no doubt about that.

It is bound to happen.

NSW is not unique in any other area, but we are trying very hard to do something about it, hence the public exposure of what we are doing about it.

CHRIS MASTERS: What you have seen is most certainly a microcosm of a wider story, as will be revealed when this inquiry further unfolds.

And it is a tragic, tragic story encapsulated by the soulless lives of two in the cast of tonight's rogues gallery.

The heroin dealer Caccamo, who has operated freely for years and made millions, has nothing to show for it.

He has been regularly observed putting $3,000 to $4,000 through the poker machines at this club.

One of the corrupt police officers at nearby Manly frequently lost his share to the same machines.

CHRIS MURPHY: In an odd sort of way, the structure of life is that the pathos of the small criminal was almost the pathos of the small police officer.

CHRIS MASTERS: As this inquiry reaches further back, it will show that these patterns were established decades ago.

One of the biggest dealers on the Northern Beaches speaks of meeting at this club once a week and playing golf with a group of police who would receive weekly payments.

And by the way, within the last decade, there have been over 300 deaths by overdose in northern Sydney.

The victims, and that is all of us, have a right to be angry.

FRANK FEATHERSTONE: For the last 15 years, probably, I suppose our greatest fear was that, um, we'd never know that he'd died, that he'd be somewhere in Australia, and we'd never see our son again.

JUDY SKIPPER: You know, we've all got on our mind about terrorists at the moment.

I see these are a form of terrorists in our -- in our society.

OLGA VASSAROTI: I can't understand how these people could sell this stuff if they knew what it did to people, you know?

They're murderers, obviously, because it just kills people.

LOUISE LIN: It's terrible, because I love her, I love her more than anything in the world, I'd do anything to help her, and she doesn't want to be helped.

You put your hand out and she slaps you in the face for it.

It's just the way things are.

CHRIS MASTERS: But we should end with something that brings some relief -- an important whistleblower whose evidence partly opened up this inquiry came forward voluntarily.

NSW Internal Affairs police who have undertaken it have done so both willingly and effectively.

There is within their actions evidence of a sea change clearly overdue and still with some way to go.

PETER RYAN: We are the thief-takers, the corruption busters, and we're coming again.

There's more in the pipeline and I'm coming again, so they ought to listen to THAT message, and not just think, "Well, that's another inquiry out of the way."

Because it isn't.

I'll be coming again.

POLICEMAN: I wonder if, at the last, when you're ready to execute it, if we got the duty officer from Dee Why to handle it --

CHRIS MASTERS: The Police Integrity Commission hearings will reveal more examples of the corruption you've seen tonight, and we go out listening in to the result of another search warrant and the oh-so-appropriate car radio background music.

POLICEMAN 1: D'ya want me to start counting this while we are driving around.

ya know what I mean?

Holy fucking dooley there is a fair bit there isn't there.

POLICEMAN 2: Jesus Christ.

Sort em out into piles I reckon.

POLICEMAN 1: Fuck me dead.

I didn't know you could fit that much into an RM Williams.

NSW police corruption inquiry

PM Archive - Monday,    ABC Mark Colvin 8 October , 2001 Reporter: Peter Lloyd COMPERE: New South Wales is confronting a new corruption scandal that threatens once more to undermine public confidence in the State's police service. A three-year covert inquiry by undercover police officers has produced evidence of a network of detectives and senior officers involved in the so-called "green-lighting" -- drug dealing in exchange for regular cash payments. The sordid details began emerging today at the Police Integrity Commission, set up in the wake of the Wood Royal Commission into Police Corruption seven years ago. The inquiry, codenamed "Operation Florida" has already led to 25 arrests including two police detectives. Over the coming weeks 22 serving and former officers will be called to explain themselves as Peter Lloyd reports. And a warning that this story contains language that may offend some listeners. PETER LLOYD: It's often said the seaside suburb of Manly is seven miles from Sydney and a thousand miles from care. While it's a figurative expression it seems to accurately describe the gulf between the dirty dealings of police officers and drug dealers just a short ferry ride from the city command centre of Commissioner Peter Ryan. The man originally hired from England to reform the most corrupt force in the country and stamp out the kind of activities apparently flourishing at least in manly and possibly elsewhere. So far only two officers have been named, Detectives Matthew Jasper and Dave Paterson. What you're about to hear is a surveillance recording of three drug dealers, one working undercover for the police, discussing the frequency and size of payments to Detective Patterson. POLICE OFFICER 1: I know three people.. POLICE OFFICER 2: Yeah POLICE OFFICER 1: ..that have been dealing for years and years and years POLICE OFFICER 2: Yeah? POLICE OFFICER 1: ..we've been paying him and we've never come undone.. POLICE OFFICER 2: Is that right? POLICE OFFICER 1: And if they do come undone, they're fucking out the next day. POLICE OFFICER 2: Right right. POLICE OFFICER 1: [indistinct] and they've never been to gaol. They just fucking copped a slap on the wrist and they're back selling the next day. POLICE OFFICER 2: I was gonna you know, just completely quit. But he's given me the green light. POLICE OFFICER 1: You either pay em and go ahead or you've got to quit cause he will beat ya. POLICE OFFICER 3: It's like paying rent. It's like having a shop and paying and paying rent. That's all it is. POLICE OFFICER 1: Tax. Tax. POLICE OFFICER 2: You reckon I'm alright paying two grand a month? I mean I can afford it. I can afford it. POLICE OFFICER 1: You're laughing mate. POLICE OFFICER 3: Chicken feed. [indistinct] POLICE OFFICER 2: Yeah. That's a lot. PETER LLOYD: All part of a day's business. It seems the dealers committing the crimes and the police reaping what they laughingly referred to as "taxation". But the most sordid video and tape recordings came thanks to an undercover police detective. A man who goes by the codename M5. For the past three years M5 has been based at the Manly Police Station gathering evidence against Detectives Patterson and Jasper and a number of other officers. In recordings played today M5 can be heard playing along, encouraging his colleagues to misbehave, to act corruptly during the so-called integrity tests so common in the New South Wales force. In one scene M5 and Detective Patterson can be seen conducting a search. From above roof-cam captures the Detective allegedly helping himself to $6000 from a suspect's underwear draw. Later there's a dispute between officers over how much the Detective shares with his corrupt mates. POLICE DETECTIVE 1: Not happy. Till we get to the bottom of this I'm not happy. POLICE DETECTIVE 2: Well that's the rules. They always give me the same. Haven't we always played by them? POLICE DETECTIVE 1: Well they're my rules. But even if you were leaving fucking Jasper out it should have been three each if you know what I mean. [indistinct] You know? POLICE DETECTIVE 2: It's always been equal parts. POLICE DETECTIVE 1: Exactly. PETER LLOYD: Among the proceeds of that raid are two DVD players. But officers allegedly conspired to remove them from police custody by forging documents that suggest the equipment was returned to its rightful owner. Detective Jasper though has difficulty explaining how he came into possession of the DVDs during this intercepted conversation with his girlfriend Melinda. MELINDA: Does it have instructions? DETECTIVE JASPER: Ummm. Yeah. MELINDA: Or isn't it a complete set? DETECTIVE JASPER: No. MELINDA: Pardon? DETECTIVE JASPER: No. No it's not. We'll work it out. There's no need for instructions darling. Ummm. MELINDA: [laughs] Well they normally come with instructions. Where did it come from? DETECTIVE JASPER: Yeah. PETER LLOYD: No explanation was offered and the call ended. In later evidence it was revealed undercover officer M5 had taken part in the dumping of dozens of weapons being kept illegally by detectives based at the Chatswood police station. In a scene made for a movie, a senior officer's leisure boat was used to ferry the guns up the Hawkesbury River to a deep spot where the booty was thrown overboard. Why were police hoarding weapons? Counsel assisting the inquiry Peter Hastings QC, suggested the answer was both obvious and disturbing. They were the tools for a fit-up. Beyond those directly implicated, Operation Florida is a test for Commissioner Ryan, who will either be judged as having successfully counted the most corrupt elements of the force or seen as merely presiding over more of the same. Today he was on the front foot, declaring Florida was the initiative of the good guys now running New South Wales Police. POLICE COMMISSIONER PETER RYAN: We the police service uncovered this corruption. We the police service pursued these criminal police officers and they will now be appearing before the Integrity Commission. No I'm not surprised. It's human nature. The systems are in place. They just don't comply with them and we will make them do that in future. QUESTION: How widespread do you think it is? PETER RYAN: We'll see when the Integrity Commission reveals all the evidence that we have placed before it. QUESTION: Commissioner doesn't this indicate that if this is happening in Manly Davidson, it's happening not only in New South Wales but right throughout Australia given the lucrative power of the illicit drug trade. PETER RYAN: The illicit drug trade is a root cause of corruption of this sort. Yes. It's likely to affect other parts of this State -- other walks of life in this State and as well as police services throughout the whole of Australia. COMPERE: New South Wales Police Commissioner Peter Ryan ending that report by Peter Lloyd.