A policeman who would try just about anything, and died for it
August 31 2002
As a policeman he knew the dangers, but drugs took Billy Gunn's life anyway. John Silvester reports.
Billy Gunn was a natural, the sort of guy who made most things look easy. Even at school, while his mates had to study for exams, he would cruise through, always finishing near the top of the class. It was the same with football: Gunn played in the seniors at 16, sparking St Kilda's interest before bad knees crushed any hope of an AFL career.
He was the type who could excite admiration without envy, his family and friends say. Everyone who knew Billy Gunn has a story. He made people laugh, but not at the expense of others. He was an adventurer, up for anything. Perhaps that is why he was prepared to try ecstasy, even though as a detective who had worked in the drug squad he knew the risk.
Now Billy Gunn is dead, killed by "recreational" drugs, and the people who loved him are left only with memories and unanswered questions.
Marlene Gunn sits in the lounge room of her country home, on a one-hectare property near Bendigo. The retired school teacher is surrounded by friends of her dead son - there to shield her from intrusive questions and to protect the memory of their mate.
It took Mrs Gunn months to agree to talk about Billy. She fears that an article on how he died will destroy her memories of how he lived.
At first, police told her to say he died of a heart attack - even though it was common knowledge that it was drugs. They wanted to protect his reputation, and the image of the force. But now she wants to talk - partly as a warning to others and because she wants to share her memories.
"I want to go to every school and tell them the story of my Billy so the children know there is no such thing as safe drugs."
On the mantelpiece is Gunn's police graduation photo, his police badge, a police bear, and sporting trophies. On the wall are two picture boards, one entitled "The Legendary Billy Gunn". In most pictures he is smiling broadly, often arm in arm with his friends - on cruise ships, in the outback, at weddings and parties. One picture shows him tired but content, just after he finished a university exam. Within 72 hours, aged 32, he was dead.
Billy Gunn was eight years old when his father, Geoffrey, died of a heart attack at 52, and Marlene moved the family from Mildura to Bendigo. After year 12, Gunn began a nursing degree in Bendigo, but within months he left.
"He said, 'Mum, this isn't for me,' " Marlene remembers.
Geoffrey William Gunn worked at a home for the blind before joining the police force. He graduated in May, 1988, aged 19, and soon fell in love with the job. Gunn's enthusiasm and persuasiveness led to two of his mates following him into the force.
After a year at Fitzroy station, he transferred to Castlemaine, then spent five years back in Mildura, his childhood town. His superiors there saw in the relaxed and popular young man the potential for an undercover operative. In 1992 and 1993, Gunn worked in plain clothes, on complex drug investigations. His file described him as a "particularly hard-working and dedicated" officer.
Gunn loved to keep fit. According to his close friend Senior Detective Wayne Woltsche, Gunn prepared healthy meals to take to work, and went to the gym almost every day. Gunn played football with the Mildura Football Club, squash twice a week and regularly rode his bike. "He would walk down the street and turn heads," says Mrs Gunn. "Not just the daughters, but the mothers, as well."
In 1995 Gunn joined the drug squad. It was perfect for him. He liked long-term investigations and colleagues say he carried out major sting operations as an undercover man. His boss, Superintendent Dave Newton, described him as "a good team player" who "displays potential for promotion".
After nearly three years in the squad, Gunn told Woltsche he wanted experience as a detective in a division. His friend suggested they work together at Prahran.
Some police become insular. They work and socialise only with cops, and eventually develop a siege mentality, trusting few people outside the force. But not Gunn. "Billy made friends with everybody he met, and could talk to anyone from any walk of life," Woltsche said.
His boss at Prahran, Detective Senior Sergeant David Martin, saw Gunn as a potential leader, and wanted him to sit the sergeant's exam. But the younger policeman wanted to finish the marketing degree he was studying at RMIT.
Martin, who described Gunn as "one of the better detectives" at the office, said police at Prahran were shocked by his death. Gunn never gave Martin any indication he was using recreational drugs, except for the occasional social drink. Woltsche also told investigators that at no time in the 11 years he had known Gunn did he suspect his friend of using drugs. Bendigo friends and police colleagues say they had no idea Gunn was experimenting with ecstasy.
But one old friend did.
Jamie Frank Marciano and Gunn had been friends for 10 years from their Mildura days. When Marciano moved to Melbourne in 1999 to manage a bar in South Yarra they began to socialise together.
"I knew that Billy was an occasional user of ecstasy," Marciano told investigators. He said Gunn would occasionally take ecstasy at parties - "Billy had many friends outside the police force."
Marciano estimated he saw Gunn take ecstasy five times in the previous eight months. He did not know where Gunn got his drugs. . "He did not speak about this," he said. "People generally do not."
Gunn had been living with his girlfriend in Armadale, but was ready for a change. Catherine Taylor, the sister of a fellow student of Gunn's at RMIT, was also looking for a new house. In early May last year she and Gunn moved into a renovated cottage in Fairchild Street, Abbotsford.
Just days before he died, Gunn rang his mother to say he was happy in the new house with Taylor. He told Marlene: "This is going to work, Mum, she's fun."
When Martin James Foard arrived in Melbourne from Brisbane on Saturday, June 16, 2001, he had already secured a backpacker's first priority - a free bed.
Catherine Taylor met Foard three years earlier on a previous visit to Australia, and knew he was welcome in Taylor's home.
About 8.30am he grabbed the Skybus to Spencer Street, and a train to North Richmond before walking half a kilometre to Fairchild Street.
At 2pm Taylor took Foard to the local pub, the Terminus, a kitsch-cool hotel in Victoria Street, filled with old bar stools, pinball machines and opportunity-shop art. There they met Gunn, who had finished an exam the day before and was free to celebrate. He had plannedto visit his mother, but had missed his lift.
Taylor introduced Gunn to Foard, the backpacker later told police. They had a few drinks and, according to Foard, Gunn gave him a pink tablet. Taking it gave him "the sense of wellbeing, clammy hands and hot flushes, which are the normal effects of ecstasy".
It is unclear, though, why Gunn would give a stranger a pill valued at between $50 and $80. And why a detective would be so reckless as to risk criminal charges and the sack by passing over illegal drugs in a pub. Some of his friends believe Foard provided the drugs.
The next morning, Taylor went to friend's place for a child's birthday party, and left Foard and Gunn at home. Foard said they settled in to watch the football on television. "At this time we had a couple of VB stubbies each, and Billy asked me if I wanted a tablet. I believed he was talking about ecstasy, and Billy returned to the lounge room shortly after, handing me a small blue tablet that had CK marked on it."
Foard and Gunn each took a tablet and kept drinking, the backpacker said. About two hours later, Gunn left and returned with a pink tablet. "This tablet had no markings on it, and Billy handed me one. I did not see Billy consume a pink tablet or any other tablets, apart from the blue one."
The effects of the pills and the beer overwhelmed Foard, who vomited. It may have saved his life.
Foard rang a friend, Brendan Sheedy, who came over for a drink. Later Taylor came home, and Marciano also arrived. Gunn offered to cook dinner. Marciano later told police that he and Gunn went to the supermarket, bought some food and vodka before going home to cook a chicken stir-fry.
Marciano brought a small bag of cannabis with him to the house, and most people there shared a joint. No one seemed worried about smoking marijuana in front of a detective.
After dinner, the group continued to drink and play cards during the night. To Taylor, Gunn did not seem intoxicated, but he was affected by alcohol: "He was able to play cards, but did stagger a bit when he went to bed." To Sheedy, "Bill appeared a bit stoned."
About 11.30 that night, Gunn went to his room, saying he had work the next day.
Sheedy remembered Gunn as involved in the conversation, telling stories and jokes. "He was speaking clearly, and nothing appeared to be abnormal with his thought process," he said.
Taylor woke the next morning at eight. Putting her head into Gunn's room, she saw that Gunn was still fully clothed, lying on his bed. "I could see that Billy was breathing, but his breathing appeared a little laboured. I called out to him to wake him, but he did not rouse. I thought Billy was in heavy sleep from the effects of the alcohol."
Taylor told Foard that she could not wake Gunn. "Mart and I both went to Billy's room, and I again called out to him. Again I could not rouse him, so I asked Mart to keep an eye on him. I left for work at about 8.40am."
But Foard was not worried enough to do anything. He thought Gunn was snoring because of the night's alcohol and drugs. As the unconscious detective lay dying, his house guest made a cup of tea and went back to bed.
About 45 minutes later, Taylor rang, and again asked Foard to check on Gunn. "I hung the telephone up and entered Billy's room," Foard said. "I could see that his skin was pale and his eyes were slightly open. His skin was cold, his chest was not moving, and I could not feel any pulse."
He tried to ring Taylor, but could not get through. Finally he rang 000, and the operator told him to put Gunn on the floor and on his side. But it was too late.
The ambulance officer had no idea of the identity of his patient. Then he saw the police badge on the table.
At first, Gunn's death was thought to be from a heart attack - until Foard told police they had been taking ecstasy.
In the right pocket of Gunn's jeans police found a plastic bag containing seven blue and five orange tablets.
Why, Gunn's friends wonder, would a policeman with such a reputation for integrity possess drugs valued at nearly $1000 for private use? And as a very occasional user, why did he want so many tablets?
Tests showed that the orange tablets contained ecstasy. But the blue tablets were a deadly mix of morphine and methamphetamine - dangerous fakes known as pseudo-ecstasy, and produced in backyard speed labs, the sort of labs Gunn had busted in his years in the drug squad.
Billy Gunn was an experienced detective. He knew the dangers of drugs.
His mother remains shattered and confused - "Billy always looked after himself. He ate well, and exercised. He even hated coffee."
His friends could not believe Gunn died of recreational drug use. Some wanted to believe he had been drugged against his will by the criminals he had been chasing.
But eventually they had to accept the truth. In May, Coroner Graeme Johnstone investigated Bill Gunn's death without holding an open inquest. "The evidence supports a finding that Geoffrey Gunn died accidentally as a result of toxicity to amphetamines and narcotics."
St Paul's Cathedral, in Bendigo, can comfortably seat about 400. When they buried Billy Gunn there were 500 inside and about the same number in the street. Three tour buses brought mourners from Mildura. Chief Commissioner Christine Nixon is committed to bringing in drug testing for police.
Police are members of the community, she says. They can fall into the same traps as anyone else.
