Stingers
Sydney Morning Herald
Saturday May 13, 2000
A strategically placed NSW undercover police officer may have gone bad. Phil Cornford and Les Kennedy report on the ramifications.
A ``STINGER" is an undercover cop who lives a double life among criminals, seeking their friendship. In NSW, they chose as their symbol the scorpion, a creature with a deadly poison in its tail.
Like scorpions, they venture into dark places. But the sting is a two-edged danger. Sometimes, the undercover operatives, also known as UCs, get stung themselves.
The deepest fear of any covert organisation is of compromise within. So when that fear emerged last month, the impact was traumatic at the Clarence Street headquarters of the Special Crime and Internal Affairs branch, the ``cop busters," the most secretive and usually the most secure agency in the NSW Police Service.
Even while the operative was being interrogated, an immediate audit of every operation that he might have been associated with or had knowledge of was ordered by the squad's commander, Assistant Commissioner Mal Brammer. This exhaustive and urgent task is still under way.
Potentially at risk are not only operations which are aimed at penetrating to the core of organised crime and their corrupt police protectors but the lives of other undercover operatives. ``Stingers" constitute an elite cell within the agency; they know each other. Now the questions they are all asking are: were operations compromised and who is at risk?
Any agency running an undercover agent has dual responsibilities which are in conflict. The agent must be trusted. But at the same time the agent must be watched with the greatest care.
What went wrong? There must have been warning signals. Why were they missed? With these questions very much at the centre of their investigations, the police have yet to reveal the identity of the operative, hoping to control the damage. They are keeping secret the date of his court appearance, while trying to put a positive spin on his arrest by claiming it proves police are vigilant against possible corruption.
It is known, however, that he comes from an ethnic background and for two years was sent to work among criminals of the same ethnicity involved in the drug trade in Kings Cross and south-west Sydney.
At the time, police were conducting a major campaign following about 40 shooting incidents, including a drive-by fusillade at Lakemba police station, a gunfight with police, and a number of murders.
This was especially galling for the Police Commissioner, Peter Ryan. No doubt there was an intensive undercover operation. On September 17 last, 150 heavily armed police arrested nine men in raids in south-west Sydney and charged them with crimes which included the murder of the drug boss and standover man Danny Karam, the murders of two men outside the Five Dock hotel, the gunfight with police at White City, the Lakemba drive-by shooting and shoot-outs at two dance clubs.
The capacity of drug dealers to corrupt police has been the major focus of Internal Affairs investigations and Karam was an important IA target. An old associate of Billy Bayeh, the jailed former overlord of the heroin and cocaine trade in Kings Cross, Karam was involved in a turf war with other major claimants to Bayeh's vacated throne. He was gunned down by his own gang, known as Danny's Boys.
At the time, the operative was still trusted and active.
One suspicion is that the ``stinger" later got stung by old loyalties which reached beyond the police force and which he found hard to reject. Another is that he was subverted by the lifestyle he was forced to live in order to get close to his criminal targets. He drove a Porsche sports car supplied by Internal Affairs, wore gold jewellery, frequented dance clubs and gymnasiums. It is alleged he began using steroids. Police have also charged him with illegal firearms offences.
While ``stingers" are trained to get close to their targets, they are not supposed to sleep with the enemy.
This, however, happened to a woman undercover operative who was used against the bike gangs who control the manufacture and distribution of amphetamines.
Despite her training, and contrary to her personal loyalties and an excellent police record, the agent fell in love with one of her targets. Her conflict was deep. Rather than betray the police, she resigned and married the biker and consequently became a criminal herself, bringing valuable expertise to the gang.
The threat of subversion is always present, although it doesn't happen often. The life of an undercover cop is not only dangerous and stressful but it is also full of temptation, according to Detective Inspector Michael Drury, 47, Australia's best-known undercover policeman, who was shot in 1984 and almost died because of his undercover work.
Drury, recently retired, in 1989 wrote the manual for the Special Forces Undercover Training Program for the NSW Police. His credentials were unquestionable: five years undercover himself, he had graduated from undercover courses run by the FBI, Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the Los Angeles Police.
Until last year Drury was frequently seconded to the Police Academy at Goulburn to lecture on undercover work to police from all of the State and Federal forces and from New Zealand and Hong Kong. Drury says the course has a ``high professional standing in the Southern Hemisphere."
He won't discuss numbers or methodology. ``A lot apply for the course, but only a few get to do it," he said. Most fail the selection criteria and a tough psychological vetting.
``We look for people who can manage stress, display strong self-discipline, high motivation, loyalty and professionalism and who have physical and psychological stamina. Integrity is paramount," he said.
Motivations are complex. Often it is a strong moral attitude against crime, a desire to be in the frontline. Another is a desire to belong to a elite unit which gets results. Sometimes the prime motivation is excitement, a desire for danger. This is watched for.
``It's a dangerous criteria to select on," Mr Drury said. ``We don't want cowboys. There are no stereotypes. Age and sex are not barriers."
Nor is a family. Drury, who was at home giving food to his young daughter when he was shot twice through the kitchen window (it is generally accepted the shooter was the late professional gunman Christopher Dale Flannery) says it was ``a Godsend to be able to come home to the normality of family life. Can you imagine what it must be like for an undercover agent to come home to an empty, barren bachelor flat?"
A ``stinger" lives a lie, often adopting a number of underworld identities at the same time. Worse, it is a life which is inherently distasteful to the agent, who needs a strong moral attitude towards his target, both as a source of strength and defence.
Undercover agents must subjugate their real existence, lest it betray them, but they must never repudiate it. Otherwise, they are lost.
``It's a big ask," Drury said.
``It's always dangerous and stressful. You're dealing with blokes who are all tooled up and ready to go."
One of the big risks is that constant association will lead to some empathy, a variation of the Stockholm Syndrome which causes hostages to sympathise with their captors.
Police call it the Betrayal Syndrome. Decent people don't like to betray others, yet an undercover agent is required to do this and in some cases the target is ``a criminal who on the surface might display good human qualities and be quite likable".
Another is temptation. An undercover agent earns a modest salary, might have a family, a mortgage, financial problems. ``You're sitting opposite someone who's got $10,000 stuck in his shirt pocket and he wants you on the team," says Drury. He says each ``stinger" is run by a supervisor who ``should have total control of the operative." He refused to discuss this further, but a former undercover policeman now working for a private security company gave a fuller explanation.
A supervisor, he said, monitors and approves a ``stinger's" every move. Undercover agents needed to be independent, resourceful and adaptable, but they have to be kept on a tight rein, as a matter of protection and as a precaution against them going bad.
If an undercover agent is having problems, it is the job of his supervisor to detect it. If the stress is getting out of hand, it is time to bring the agent in.
So, what then went wrong with the IA ``stinger?"
``They lost control," the former undercover cop said. ``They didn't see the warning signals until it was too late."
© 2000 Sydney Morning Herald