Free The Gangland War by John Silvester Page A

and that was more bad news for Mokbel.
    The first official sign that the underworld code had been smashed came in May 2006, when Supreme Court Justice Bernie Teague sentenced a career criminal we shall call, ‘The Journeyman’,to a minimum of nineteen years for two contract killings.
    The Journeyman was the equivalent of a washed-up boxer who refused to retire. He was the product of a third-generation criminal family and connected with at least six killings. He once shot an unarmed policeman during a bank robbery and was a key figure in a vicious war inside Pentridge prison. Violent, manipulative and an underworld tactician, he presented during the gangland underworld war as an expert who was quoted in the media as a retired practitioner turned crime historian. But behind the scenes he could not bear the thought of being left behind. A contemporary said: ‘He forgot that an underworld war is a young man’s game. He wanted to be a part of it and jumped in. He was always a fool and now he’s just an old fool.’
    The Journeyman was a gunman who became the loose cannon, prepared to do jobs for both sides, and one-off hits on a freelance basis.
    There is little chance he will ever reform. Put simply, he is no good. That is, except to the Purana taskforce.
    In November 2005 The Journeyman was found guilty of shooting and dumping fellow gunman Lewis Caine in Brunswick on 8 May 2004. But after fighting the first case, he had a change of heart and pleaded guilty to the murder of Lewis Moran, shot dead in the Brunswick Club in Sydney Road on 31 March 2004.
    The Journeyman usually persuaded someone close to him to take the fall. He repeatedly managed to paint himself as an unfortunate who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when shots were fired. But this time he knew he was trapped. In sentencing him to a minimum term of nineteen years, rather than life with no minimum, Justice Teague opened himself to critics claiming the sentence was under the odds.
    Surely a career killer who was prepared to murder for cash should be jailed for the rest of his life? But ultimately, police and prosecutors concluded — and Teague agreed — the old hit mancould be of more value in a witness box than spending a lifetime in a prison cell.
    The Journeyman, then 53, was an old-style gangster who would not have survived a lifetime of crime without being able to sniff the wind. For instance, once when he had been suspected for a murder committed during a robbery, he was left a short message by a homicide squad detective. The message was: Come to the homicide squad to be interviewed or risk having the armed robbery squad shoot you in bed for resisting arrest. The next day at 9am, he was at the St Kilda Road crime department complex, freshly showered and well-dressed, ready to be interviewed. He felt safer there. Soon, four men were charged over the armed robbery and murder. According to police, The Journeyman used his own form of plea bargaining. He gave one of his co-accused a simple choice: plead guilty or die. The man pleaded guilty.
    The other three were then able to blame the guilty man for the murder and The Journeyman was sentenced to thirteen years for the armed robbery, but was not convicted of murder. Until now.
    Earlier in 2006, he asked Purana detectives to visit him in jail. He was ready to talk. This does not mean he suddenly found morality and remorse that had evaded him all his life; he just knew that if he remained silent, they would throw away the key.
    By cutting a deal with the prosecution to give evidence against long-time associates in gangland murder trials — and providing new leads on others yet to be charged — he gave himself a chance of walking out of jail an old, but free, man.
    With time served, he could be 71 when released. More importantly, he would not have to do his jail time in 23-hour solitary confinement.
    For police, the idea of allowing The Journeyman to dodge