Tyler Cassidy was a troubled kid. Police officers Colin Dods and Richie Blundell were working an afternoon shift in the Northcote divisional van. Their lives would collide on a balmy summer evening in late 2008 at a Northcote skate park. A distraught Cassidy, 15, was in no mood to negotiate with the officers. He refused to drop two knives and kept approaching Dods. He was shot six times, and died at the scene. The police involved lived for years with allegations that it was their fault. Vindicated in the Coroners Court of Victoria, they tell John Silvester their story.

Very few people have heard of Detective Sergeant Dion Achtypis - but there may well be no more important investigator in Australia. You won’t see him holding a press conference at a murder scene or commanding a squad of detectives. And he doesn’t use a sledgehammer during raids - he gains access in a much more subtle way. He is part of a three-person team working in the present while exploring the future. Cyber cop Dion Achtypis sits down with John Silvester to discuss Bitcoin, international crime syndicates and the Underbelly series.

Belinda Bozykowski was never a police officer. But her partner, Laurie Fox, was. On the last day of 2012, Fox took his own life, leaving her with two young sons, a broken heart and a million questions. Belinda is as brave as any Valour Award winner. After her partner's death, she completed her midwifery course, cared for their boys, and dedicated a great part of her life to the mental health of first responders. It is perhaps the only way she could make sense of something so indescribable. Between laughter and tears, Belinda shares her story with John Silvester. If you or anyone you know needs support, call Lifeline 13 11 14, Mensline 1300 789 978 or visit www.beyondblue.org.au Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

Prodigious armed robber and expert escaper John Killick escaped custody in three states, once in a helicopter hijacked by his girlfriend.  Most of the police and prison officers who chased or caged him over more than 50 years are long gone, while John has written five books. But the brutality of Pentridge has stayed with him. Killick takes host John Silvester inside the giant bluestone walls that hid callous brutality, resulting in angry men being released back into the community.  Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au If you or anyone you know needs support, call Lifeline 13 11 14, Mensline 1300 789 978, or the National Sexual Assault, Domestic and Family Violence Counselling Service on 1800RESPECT (1800 737 732).

It was early on Monday, June 18, 2007, just as city workers were arriving at their jobs that Hells Angel Christopher Wayne Hudson finally imploded.  First he beat and kicked a woman in a strip club before dragging her along King Street.  Then he saw his girlfriend, Kaera Douglas, who had just arrived on Hudson's orders to drive him home. He greeted her saying: "Today is the day you're going to die." This is a story of unspeakable family violence, the courage of strangers, and it also shines a light on us: and what we see is not that pretty at all.  Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au If you or anyone you know needs support, call Lifeline 13 11 14, Mensline 1300 789 978, or the National Sexual Assault, Domestic and Family Violence Counselling Service on 1800RESPECT (1800 737 732).

As a policeman, Tony “Kid” Currie lived on the edge. In the SOG he shot and killed one suspect and in a second incident left one with life-altering injuries. Some thought he was a loose cannon and were happy when he resigned. Tony and his wife Michelle take us through the shootings and his career in a heartwarming and poignant discussion on living on the cutting edge of law enforcement, life after policing and giving back. For years now, they have invested their money, time and passion to present seminars, conferences and small gatherings for cops and their partners designed to turn victims into survivors. Additional recordings from Terry Carlyon and ABC. Crisis support is available from Lifeline on 13 11 14. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

Keith Pickering was just 19 and a young cop when he was on point duty outside Flinders Street Station in January 1974. He heard a vendor yell out and saw a man crouching with a bloodied carving knife. The mentally disturbed man, James Belsey, had just fatally cut the throat of Constable Norm Curson on the steps of the station. Pickering and another young cop Trevor Pollock followed him into the Young and Jacksons Hotel and although unarmed, managed to arrest him and take him to the nearby police station. Their bravery has never been recognised.  Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au If you or anyone you know needs support, call Lifeline 13 11 14, Mensline 1300 789 978, or the National Sexual Assault, Domestic and Family Violence Counselling Service on 1800RESPECT (1800 737 732).

Kevin Knowles was a brute, a thug and a suspected double murderer.  Kirkstall was a lovely county town inhabited mainly by young families looking to build a safe and caring community. That is until Knowles moved into town.  Travis Cashmore was a quiet hippy type bloke, well regarded by the locals. Driven to breaking point by Knowles, Cashmore took the law into his own hands, killing Knowles, one of his mates, and then took his own life. Col Ryan is a long-time local detective, councillor and mayor. Col tells us the inside story. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au If you or anyone you know needs support, call Lifeline 13 11 14, Mensline 1300 789 978, or the National Sexual Assault, Domestic and Family Violence Counselling Service on 1800RESPECT (1800 737 732).

From the age of two, David Freeman was hidden with a group of children in a remote country house, described as a school that was actually a prison. The cult, led by the charismatic and seriously loopy Anne Hamilton-Byrne, survived for 20 years. David spent most of his adult life trying to forget - moving to Iceland, marrying, fathering children and working outdoors as a roof contractor until he finally understood he needed to deal with his past. After years of substance abuse and nearly committing suicide, David reached out to one of the original investigators, Julie Cochrane, who had become a psychologist. For the first time, David tells his story. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au If you or anyone you know needs support, call Lifeline 13 11 14, Mensline 1300 789 978, or the National Sexual Assault, Domestic and Family Violence Counselling Service on 1800RESPECT (1800 737 732).

Howard Nathan was a Supreme Court judge for 14 years. Many of his peers did not accept him because he was gay, Jewish and left-wing. One judge did not speak to him during his entire time on the bench. In a frank interview, Nathan talks of the hypocrisy of the establishment where gays were hounded, often by men who themselves lived double lives. He reveals that as a teenager he was picked up by a man who became a senior police officer - the very man who later was active in shutting down an investigation into a paedophile priest. And he relives the moment in 1980 when a gunman killed three people in the Supreme Court, right in front of him. A rare insight into a remarkable man. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

Join John Silvester, Australia’s longest-serving crime reporter, as he talks to the cops and the crims in the sixth season of crime podcast Naked City. The new season will premiere on Wednesday, June 14, and new episodes will drop each Wednesday. Subscribe now and get all the episodes straight to your device.  For the latest news and views from John Silvester (aka Sly of the Underworld), subscribe to The Agehttps://subscribe.theage.com.au or the Sydney Morning Heraldhttps://subscribe.smh.com.au

The astonishing true story of how Melbourne homicide detectives broke all the rules in their quest to have Katia Pyliotis convicted for brutally murdering a dirty old man with a statue of the Virgin Mary. The Confession is a podcast where the justice system itself is on trial. At the centre of it all, is Katia Pyliotis, accused of bludgeoning a man to death. Four years of Katia’s life is spent behind bars, until the truth emerges because of a stroke of luck. Richard Baker tells the story of a murder, a botched trial and the system that allowed it to happen.

Peter Morgan and his twin Doug used their identical looks to fool police while pulling two dozen armed robberies in Victoria. That is until tough country cop Rick Hasty confronted Peter in a Ballarat laneway, who hours earlier had shot Hasty's colleague Ray Koch outside a bank. Peter reckons the shooting was an accident. Hasty wants to set the record straight and he has a surprising ally in Doug. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

Policeman Rod Miller came home tired from a late shift but took the time to sign more than 60 thankyou cards to friends and family who congratulated him and his wife Carmel on the birth of their first child. By the time they arrived, he was dead, shot while on duty. Peter Silk didn't believe the first call that his brother Gary had been shot with Rod. Carmel and Peter (who later married) share their remarkable stories with us. They refuse to be defined as victims and are an inspiration. Courage comes in many forms. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

When police officers Gary Silk and Rod Miller were fatally shot the crime scene was chaotic as it was believed one of the armed offenders was still there and likely to try and kill more cops. The first responders tried to comfort the mortally wounded Miller and hunt for the gunman on the loose. Some left part of their souls in Cochranes Road that early morning.  Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au You can find support for trauma at:  Life Line: 13 11 14 Mental Health: 1800 629 354 Kids Help Line: 1800 55 1800 (free call) Mensline Australia: 1300 78 99 78 www.beyondblue.org.au www.blackdoginstitute.org.au www.sane.org

When Sergeant Gary Silk and Senior Constable Rod Miller pulled over a blue Hyundai in Moorabbin in 1998 while on armed robbery stake-out duty they had no inkling they were about to be ambushed. Their murders sparked a two year investigation and the conviction of two men. One Jason Roberts, who always maintained his innocence, was eventually granted a retrial and in 2022 was acquitted. The murders, the investigation and the legal aftermath is one of the most controversial and tragic cases in Australia's history. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

Jill Meagher sent a text to her husband Tom - "Meet me at the pub" but he was asleep and missed the message. By the the time he saw it she had been abducted and murdered as she walked the short distance from the bar to her home. The murder 10 years ago outraged the community to the point thousands took to the streets. It took police six days to catch the killer. Here, in their words, is how they did it.  Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

When Bruce Aitken headed to an international airport for one of his hundreds of overseas trips, he would always take his golf bag – a fairly normal piece of luggage for a globe-trotting businessman. For a man who wanted to be a professional baseball player, it was the world of golf that helped place millions of dollars at his feet without him ever having to step onto a course. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

Darcy Whettenhall was a champion sheep breeder, running the Stanbury stud farm near Geelong. His perfectionism, drive and achievements were famous in the area. But he had a dark side, offering work to young vulnerable men then preying on them for sex. One fateful evening it all came crashing down in the most horrifying way. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

There's a knock at your front door. A couple of tradies say they've been working on the house next door and they've noticed tiles missing from your roof. Not to worry. For $20, they're happy to climb up and replace them. But upon closer inspection, the hole in the roof is a little worse than first thought, they say. It would cost $970 and there's rain on the horizon. Still later it was worse again: they claim to have found asbestos and it would cost thousands more. This is a scam of international proportions. Starting in Ireland, fake tradies have been ripping off the elderly and the vulnerable in multimillion-dollar coordinated cons in the UK, Canada and Australia. In the latest episode of John Silvester's Naked City, go behind the scenes with the detective who targeted one crew that pulled 37 scams in Melbourne leaving 43 victims, the eldest of which was 93 years old.  Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

What he had was information on a notorious armed robbery crew, known as the gym gang, and he was prepared to talk, if the deal was right.  He was The Driver, a trusted insider who turned informer on a gang that police still consider one of Melbourne's slickest. His information would form the basis of a police operation, codenamed Tidelands, which became a cat-and-mouse game straight out of a spy novel.  Crime reporter John Silvester brings you the final instalment of a special two-part episode of Naked City.

Their heists were meticulous, and executed with military-style precision. And as soon as one job was done, they would disappear, sometimes for years. For 40 years, police have been in a cat-and-mouse chase with one of Australia's slickest armed robbery crews - a tight group of Melbourne mates who pulled seven intricately planned jobs over 24 years, starting in the early 1980s. Now, in part one of two episodes of John Silvester's Naked City, their full story can be told. Become a subscriber: Your support powers our newsrooms and is critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

Supreme Court judge Paul Coghlan has spent more than 50 years investigating, prosecuting and judging serious crooks on serious crimes. Coghlan, the grandson of a Chinese merchant, innkeeper and opium dealer, became Director of Public Prosecutions during Melbourne's gangland war, brokering plea deals that cracked the underworld's wall of silence.  From prosecuting a serial killer to pursuing a dodgy detective in one of Australia's first wire tap cases, Coghlan opens up to veteran crime reporter John Silvester in another episode of Naked City. And a heads-up, there's a language warning for this one.  Become a subscriber: Your support powers our newsrooms and is critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

How police caught Paul Charles Denyer, and the women who came chillingly close to the Frankston serial's orbit. In part two of John Silvester's season opening episode of Naked City, go behind-the-scenes of the investigation with the veteran crime reporter and hear from a suburban detective who, almost by chance, became the first officer Denyer chose to confess to. Another woman also talks about her encounter with Denyer a week before he murdered his final victim, as well as Donna's lucky escape. Become a subscriber: Your support powers our newsrooms and is critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au or https://subscribe.smh.com.au

In the winter of 1993, a serial killer terrorised Melbourne, stalking and murdering three young women in the bayside suburb of Frankston. John Silvester is back for another season of Naked City, starting with a two-part episode on the investigation into Paul Charles Denyer, and the detectives that netted one of Australia's most notorious killers. And a warning, some listeners may find this content distressing. Become a subscriber: Your support powers our newsrooms and is critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

The much anticipated fifth season of Naked City arrives on June 22. Make sure to subscribe now and get all the episodes straight to your device.  John Silvester, Australia’s longest-serving crime reporter, will take you on a journey through his 40 years of dealing with the nation’s most dangerous criminals. 

Since late 2020, the case of missing Sydney woman Melissa Caddick has captivated the country. A seemingly successful businesswoman from Sydney's eastern suburbs went missing after authorities raided her Dover Heights home amid questions over an unlicensed financial planning business. Sydney Morning Herald investigative journalist Kate McClymont would reveal key details of a massive Ponzi scheme and a $23 million fraud that ripped off investors including her family and friends as Caddick lived the high life of overseas trips, cars and high end fashion. McClymont's coverage would win her a ninth Walkley Award. Now McClymont and 60 Minutes’ Tom Steinfort are set to present a breakthrough podcast Liar, Liar: Melissa Caddick and the Missing Millions that will follow the twists and turns of a case where everyone has a theory of their own. What happened to the money and what happened to Melissa? Liar Liar will reveal fresh details of the crime of the century through interviews with key players and takes listeners from upmarket jewellery auction rooms in Hong Kong, to the ski slopes of Aspen to private islands in the South Pacific.

Cliff Lockwood was just 19 when he left the peace of a tiny town to join the police force. “I know it sounds funny but I just wanted to do good. Nineteen was way too young. You don’t know anything.” On Sunday April 9, 1989 Lockwood and his partner, Senior Detective Dermot Avon arrested car thief and suspected violent criminal Gary Abdullah and took him to his Drummond Street two level flat to search for evidence and an accomplice. According to police Abdullah grabbed and imitation firearm and Lockwood responded by firing six shots from his gun, then grabbed Avon’s to fire the last and fatal shot.  Both police were charged with murder and were acquitted. Lockwood’s left policing and his life spiralled out of control. He was jailed in the Northern Territory. Now he is back in Victoria trying to rebuild his life. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

For a time gangland figures lived a fast and often lucrative life, but very few made it out alive. After 11 unsolved murders, including Moran brothers Mark and Jason, and their father Lewis, police put together a taskforce to tackle the gangland war. They investigated Andrew 'Benji' Veniamin, Mick Gatto, Carl Williams and Tony Mockbell among others.  Purana ended up investigating over 300 people, listening in on more than 100,000 hours of phone conversations, using 39 tracking devices to follow suspects for more than 22,000 hours. One of the key police informants was lawyer Nicola Gobbo, a fact which puts several convictions into jeopardy. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

The rookie teacher at the tiny country school was startled during morning recess when some of the kids ran into the single weatherboard classroom, yelling: "There's a man outside with a gun." Rob Hunter had been the sole teacher at the Gippsland town of Wooreen for just nine days - his first posting after three years at teachers' college. He was 20 years old. Maree Young was his student, she was just 11 years old. The man with the revolver and wearing a Collingwood beanie as a balaclava was Geelong Prison escapee Edwin John "Ted" Eastwood, 26, who five years earlier pulled the same crime 270 kilometres away, kidnapping a teacher and six students from Faraday. It was February 14, 1977. In the next 21 hours they would experience a car crash, a night imprisoned at a remote campsite, an escape, police pursuit, a shootout and a wounding before final rescue. In this episode of Naked City, Rob Hunter and Maree Young tell their story, first hand.  Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

By early 1985 hitman Chris Flannery was running out of friends. This was hardly surprising, as he’d killed most of them. Flannery had built a fearsome reputation for killing on command but when an attack dog begins to snarl at its master it is time for the big sleep. Flannery’s boss Sydney gangster George Freeman had lost patience with him and was a little frightened of the unpredictable gunman. Flannery had threatened police and had shot one – undercover detective Mick Drury. Even in corrupt Sydney that was a crime that couldn’t go unanswered. He killed gangsters, shot dead a law-abiding Melbourne businessman, stabbed a major banking figure and orchestrated the murder of a teenage girl who could have given evidence against him. The man they called Rent-a-Kill made sure most of his victims were never found and that proved to be his fate when he was ambushed and murdered. He was no great loss. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

Abraham Gilbert Saffron was a successful Sydney businessman who hated his nickname and spent a fortune trying to have it expunged from the record by threatening anyone who used it publicly. The name was Mr Sin and it was well deserved. He built a vice empire on a triangular business model – the three points were bribery, blackmail and arson. He organised sex, often with under-age boys and girls, secretly photographing patrons to use against them.  He paid bribes to police - $750 per club for local police and $5000 a week for senior police and was so brazen he repeatedly visited the bent Deputy Commissioner Bill Allen at headquarters. Six of Saffron’s many properties caught fire between 1980 and 1982 - all deliberately lit.  On June 9, 1979, the ghost train at Sydney’s Luna Park was engulfed in flames, killing six children and the father of one of them. It was a property Saffron wanted to own. The police investigation was a disgrace, not because of incompetence but corruption. Saffron said he wasn’t involved but he would, wouldn’t he?   Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

Robbo' Robertson was a natural undercover cop. A Vietnam veteran with the gift of the gab, he slipped seamlessly into the role of Brian Wilson, an underworld heavy from Sydney. In 1978 Robertson was given a new mission. He was to go deep undercover to infiltrate Australia’s best armed robbery crew, the men behind the 1976 multi-million Great Bookie Robbery. He was to pretend to be a corrupt armoured van driver who would tip the team about a lucrative payroll. But this time police would be waiting to make the arrest. What they didn’t know at the time was that one of the gang was the notorious NSW prison escapee Russell “Mad Dog” Cox. In the final meeting before the armed robbery Cox and Robbo were stopped by three uniformed police, unaware of the sting operation. Cox pulled a gun and only the quick thinking and quick talking Robbo saved them all. In 2021 Robbo finally received a Valour Award for his heroism. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

It was a Friday night when Federal Police contacted their Victorian counterparts with an urgent message. A shooting had been ordered by an overseas bikie boss to be carried at a Melbourne fight night. The planning was so detailed police moved in to seize two stolen cars to be used by the hit team, cloned plates, and guns. Someone is walking around today unaware they are alive because cops unscrambled the encrypted message. What the arresting officers didn’t know is the original tip didn’t come from an informer but something much more reliable. As part of an international police sting over three years police had monitored 27 million encrypted messages from crooks from 300 cartels using a purpose-built app called ANoM. The app had been built with a trap door for police and spread through the world enabling police to monitor criminals in Australia, US, Europe, Asia and South America,   In the end police made more than 1000 arrests with more than 200 in Australia alone. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

In 1984 policeman Ron Fenton was nearly given up for dead. Shot in the head and slumped unconscious next to his police car. That is until a cop in an unmarked car took it upon himself to charge do drag Ron to safety. They thought Ron wouldn’t make it to hospital, then that he would not regain consciousness and finally that he would never return to work. They didn’t know Ron. He battled back and eventually was back on the road. But it came at a cost – he would suffer PTSD and leave the Force to battle his demons alone. Depression, flash backs, mood swings and vicious night terrors had led him to attempt to take his own life. That is, until he met Yogi, a companion dog trained by an inmate in Bathurst prison. The dog and the prisoner saved Ron’s life. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

The first episode of series four will drop Wednesday 7 July, with a new episode published every Wednesday. Make sure to subscribe now and get all the episodes straight to your device.  John Silvester, Australia’s longest-serving crime reporter, will take you on a journey through his 40 years of dealing with the nation’s most dangerous criminals. 

Arthur James Nelson was a third rate crook who had convictions for burglary, theft, assault, false pretences and drugs. In July 1988 his path fatally crossed police officers, Lachlan McCulloch and Syd Hadley. We hear the police re-enactment tapes conducted the day after the shooting as McCulloch and Hadley describe blow by blow the one hour chase and reenact the split second moment they shot dead Nelson.  Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

He was the best defence lawyer representing murder defendants in around 200 cases. He went on to be a respected Supreme Court Judge presiding over the most difficult homicide trials, including the Walsh Street police killings, the Russell Street bombing that killed police constable Angela Taylor; the Bega double murder trial of Leslie Camilleri, one of two men who tortured and killed NSW schoolgirls Lauren Margaret Barry, and Nichole Emma Collins in Victoria in 1997; and the trial of serial killer Paul Charles Denyer, who killed three women and stalked hundreds in the Frankston area. Frank Vincent was the long-time head of the Parole Board who often had to decide who should be freed and who would remain in jail. Frank takes us through a journey into the criminal justice system and reveals the secrets of the Supreme Court. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

He has represented Mick Gatto and Mark 'Chopper' Reid among other Melbourne gangland characters, but even as a school-kid, lawyer Bernie Balmer had an aversion to bullies.  As a year 11 student he had a difference of opinion with a Brother at Assumption College who responded by punching the young Balmer in the face. Bernie, who would go on to be a more than handy heavyweight boxer, dropped the bully. While he was only defending himself, he was forced to leave under threat of expulsion. It still burns that some who knew the truth failed to stand up for him and perhaps that is one of the reasons he became a seven-day-a-week defence lawyer, often giving a voice to those who desperately need one. Balmer is respected on both sides of the law and has a unique insight into the criminal justice system. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

Graeme Alford was a smart, cunning, hard-working criminal lawyer with a loyal and regular client base all connected to the feared Painters and Dockers Union. It was a licence to print money. He was also a heavy punter and prodigious drinker - both vices that are not unknown in the legal fraternity. Eventually, facing huge gambling debts, he stole from his trust fund, was jailed and became a full time criminal. It was October 15, 1982, when a half-drunk Alford donned a balaclava, grabbed his shotgun and with fellow armed robbers burst into the Chapel Street Prahran branch of the National Bank. He was a better lawyer than bandit and was arrested at the scene. We speak to the police who nabbed him and to Graeme about his descent into the underworld and his battle to reclaim his life. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

Wayne Sherwell was a country cop on traffic duty on a quiet rural road when he pulled up a speeding motorist who claimed to be a vet. The man behind the wheel was calm and matter-of-fact and there was nothing initially to make the cop suspicious.   In fact he was the notorious 'Country Bandit' who made a specialty in robbing regional banks. The confrontation ended with the bandit dead and the policeman recognised as a hero. But for many years Sherwell had to live with the ghost of the man he killed. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

Jane Thurgood-Dove was murdered in front of her three children in the driveway of their Muriel Street, Niddrie in November 1997 - as she stepped from the car and with her kids aged 11, six and three still strapped securely in their seats she was confronted by a pot bellied gunman who chased her around the family’s four-wheel-drive before shooting her in broad daylight. Jane was just 34 then and appeared to be an average mum in an average street married to an average guy. For years police worked on the theory a man obsessed with her was the killer. They were wrong. A hit team was hired to kill the blonde mother with kids who lived in Muriel Street. But it wasn’t Jane. It was a case of mistaken identity. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

Sometimes life and death can be decided by something as simple as the toss of a coin. On that day, so many years ago, a young policewoman named Angela Taylor was working in the watch house at Russell Street when she lost the toss over who would do the staff lunch run. She was only a metre away when a car bomb, containing around 60 sticks of gelignite, exploded at 47 seconds past 1pm. She was caught in the fireball, suffered horrendous injuries and died 24 days later.While Melbourne was shocked, those who made the bomb were disappointed with the level of devastation. While they killed one and left another 21 injured, they expected a much greater death toll. This is the story of the bombing, the investigation and the tragic aftermath. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

Contrary to popular opinion, Mark Brandon “Chopper” Read was no underworld mastermind and his criminal history was littered with blunders. His police record shows that when he broke the law he was usually caught and convicted. But he was a master story-teller and here, in a series of never before heard tapes, we hear from the real Chopper. Recorded in 1999 - late at night in his car with the help of his friend, Jim Beam bourbon - Chopper talks into a tape recorder about crimes he hadn't been convicted for, how to dispose of a dead body and his run in with Alan Jones on live television.  It was while serving one of these long jail stints he learnt that writing sentences beat the hell out of serving them. For it is as storyteller that Chopper Read will be remembered and with good reason. He knew the dark side fascinated solid citizens, or as he said, “Posh people love gangsters.” For years, Read was available to any reporter looking for a quick one-liner on matters of crime, which meant the underworld head-hunter was hunted for a headline. And that, at least initially, was Read’s motivation. He always wanted to be remembered - and he has got his wish. Thanks for listening. Please take the time to rate & review us on Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your pods. We love to hear your thoughts and it makes it easier for the rest of the podcast world to find us. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

On Wednesday 24 February, in the first episode of the third series, listen to never heard before tapes from Mark 'Chopper' Read to get insight into the myth and the legend. Subscribe to get new episodes published every Wednesday straight to your device. John Silvester, Australia’s longest-serving crime reporter, will take you on a journey through his 40 years of dealing with the nation’s most dangerous criminals. 

Join John Silvester from Wednesday 24 February for the third series of Naked City. Subscribe now and get all the episodes straight to your device every Wednesday. Silvester is Australia’s longest-serving crime reporter, will take you on a journey through his 40 years of dealing with the nation’s most dangerous criminals.

Phillip Grant Wilson was a neo-Nazi and a killer. He recruited a gang and according to one police report, ''This group undertook intense physical fitness training for the purpose of establishing a physical and mental advantage over police, especially the Special Operations Group, against whom they fully expected to come up against at some time in the future.'' Detective Sergeant John Morrish of the armed robbery squad was one of the key investigators who worked on Wilson. Morrish was known to have an intense dislike of people who used guns to terrorise members of the public. He wasn't too fond of Nazis either. On August 4, 1987, the Iceman was shot dead in an ambush outside a South Yarra chiropractic clinic. The murder remains unsolved. Silvester has a recorded interview with Wilson, and we hear John Morrish’s recollections, including that he was initially considered a suspect in Wilson’s murder. Thanks for listening. Please take the time to rate & review us on Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your pods. We love to hear your thoughts and it makes it easier for the rest of the podcast world to find us. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

Mica Pillemer is an accomplished international artist who, for reasons best known to himself, wanted to paint John Silvester for the Archibald Prize. During the sitting he reflects on his family history – from the concentration camps of Europe, the oppression of South African Apartheid to the New York Twin Towers attack. And the sliding door moment that brought him to find love and settle in Melbourne. Contains a sample of Melbourne Football Club theme song "It’s a Grand Old Flag" 1976 performed and written by the Fable Singers.   Thanks for listening. Please take the time to rate & review us on Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your pods. We love to hear your thoughts and it makes it easier for the rest of the podcast world to find us. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

A Bulgarian army deserter, Pavel Marinof trained himself for an armed confrontation with police, saying they would 'never take him alive'. Because he was violent and dangerous Australian media dubbed him 'Mad Max'. Marinof always traveled with two pistols and had a favourite gun, a F1 submachine gun. Senior Detective Rod McDonald describes the moment when he and Detective Sergeant John 'Kappa' Kapetanovski finally discovered Marinof after an eight-month long manhunt. The Hume Highway confrontation didn't work out well for anybody.  Thanks for listening. Please take the time to rate & review us on Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your pods. We love to hear your thoughts and it makes it easier for the rest of the podcast world to find us. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/

She was a stunning former model and television hostess. He was a successful businessman. They owned two mansions and had three beautiful children. So why did Jacqui Ramchen vanish without a trace? Her husband, Slavik "Vic" Ramchen, a no nonsense, hard drinking, hard-working civil engineer was the prime suspect. Of all the cases veteran homicide detective Charlie Bezzina has investigated the case of Jaqui Ramchen is one of the most frustrating. Jaqui disappeared in 1992 leaving her three children and a family fortune. Bezzina has no doubt she was murdered by her husband Vic, who took his secrets to his grave. Thanks for listening. Please take the time to rate & review us on Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your pods. We love to hear your thoughts and it makes it easier for the rest of the podcast world to find us. Become a subscriber: our supporters power our newsrooms and are critical for the sustainability of news coverage. Becoming a subscriber also gets you exclusive behind-the-scenes content and invitations to special events. Click on the links to subscribe https://subscribe.theage.com.au/ or https://subscribe.smh.com.au/