10

Divorce By Death

In the early hours of 27 January 1986 ambulance officers responded to an emergency call at 31 Fairlight Crescent, Manly, on Sydney’s northern beaches. When they arrived, at 1.22 am, they found a man kneeling next to a blood-drenched bed. He was sobbing, and his head rested on a dead woman’s hip. The woman was lying on her side. The top half of her body was covered in blood. There were two small bullet holes just below her ear.

The man was Andrew Kalajzich, multi-millionaire businessman and owner of the Manly Pacific Hotel. The woman was his wife, Megan Kalajzich. Also in the house were Kalajzich’s mother-in-law, May Carmichael, and his 19-year-old son, Andrew Jr.

Three minutes later, police officers arrived. Kalajzich sat with his head in his hands. He wondered out loud who would murder his wife and said the killer had also shot at him. But when Kalajzich sobbed, no tears appeared.

Detective Sergeant Bob Inkster arrived at Fairlight Crescent at 1.50 am. Inkster was a northern beaches resident, so he recognised Kalajzich, even though he had never met him or his wife. He remembered that she had been assaulted by home invaders a fortnight earlier, and that Kalajzich had been difficult during the investigations.

At 5 am Detective Sergeant Bob Richardson took Kalajzich’s statement. Andrew Peter Kalajzich was born on 28 May 1940. He had one daughter, Michelle, and a son, Andrew Kenneth. The son and mother-in-law, Mrs Carmichael, lived at Fairlight Crescent. He married Megan in 1962. As Richardson listened, he felt uneasy: somehow, Kalajzich’s emotions didn’t seem genuine. Kalajzich was troubled by questions and said he couldn’t think of any reason for the shooting – Megan held no life insurance policy.

Kalajzich’s parents immigrated to Australia from Yugoslavia in 1938. In 1939, they opened a fish and chip shop in Chatswood. Kalajzich was born a year later. He grew up with his brother, Tony, gutting and filleting fish in the shop. In the mid-1950s the family bought a fish shop at Manly called Murphy’s. The boys ran the business. The family then bought Ocean Foods, opposite the beach. By 1960 Andrew was establishing a name as a local businessman.

In 1966 the brothers bought a restaurant on the Manly Corso called K’s Snapper Inn. It soon became one of Sydney’s most successful eateries. Kalajzich joined the Chamber of Commerce and mixed in local political circles. Megan and Andrew often appeared in the local paper’s social pages. But Megan battled severe depression and suffered regular migraines.

In the early 1970s, Kalajzich became virtually obsessed with another woman. Lydia Iurman was a young Yugoslav who had settled in Brazil, then moved to Australia. Kalajzich hired her and her sister in January 1971. They eventually became waitresses at K’s Snapper Inn. Already working up to 90 hours a week, Kalajzich started meeting Lydia after work. He told Lydia he was in a loveless marriage and would divorce Megan to wed her. Lydia, however, wanted to return to Brazil. Despite Kalajzich’s pleas, she left in February 1972. He promised he would divorce his wife and send for her.

Seven months later, Lydia was back. Three days after that Kalajzich asked her to be his wife, but made no mention of divorce. Less than a week later Lydia was told Andrew was in a coma after a car accident; as it turned out, this was not true.

Late on 9 September 1972 Kalajzich, Megan and their son were returning from his parents’ house. Kalajzich and Megan were arguing as they approached a sharp bend. The car left the road. Andrew jumped out. The car plunged over a 10-metre cliff with Megan and their son in it. When police arrived, Megan was comforting the child on the rock platform below, and Kalajzich was watching from the top. He said he didn’t recall what happened. Megan said only that Andrew was feeling ill, adding that they were ‘experiencing difficulties’.

Lydia became depressed. She didn’t hear from Kalajzich for a month, but still hoped he would get divorced so they could marry. In late 1975 Kalajzich told Lydia he was free of his marriage. She bought a ring. In early January 1976, Kalajzich announced that they would be wed the following day. The next morning, Lydia was ready, with her relatives gathered – and Kalajzich stood her up. Four days later he called to say things would be fine. She didn’t hear from him for another year.

In 1977 Kalajzich started phoning Lydia again. She was angry. Their relationship cooled for the best part of a decade, with little or no contact. In the mid-1980s, he started to call her again. Then, for no apparent reason he stopped calling her again. In the meantime Detective Sergeant Inkster had gathered his reports on the killing and there were a lot of questions he wanted answered. Detective Sergeant Inkster had questions. Kalajzich said he had covered Megan with his pillow after the shooting to hide the blood from May Carmichael, yet the pillow did not appear to have been moved. And how could Kalajzich not have heard or seen anything before or after the shooting?

To get the gun 10 centimetres away from Megan’s head and fire two shots – and this is what ballistics reports indicated had happened – the killer had to walk around Kalajzich, then run back past him, after also firing the two shots which missed him, to leave the room.

Detective Sergeant Richardson re-enacted the crime scene: the killer must have been standing beside Megan when shooting, and, given that there were no shots heard, had probably used a silencer. It was likely, Inkster decided, that the killer had been helped by someone inside the house – and/or had a key.

Four days after Megan’s murder, one of the detectives working on the case, Detective Sergeant Kevin Woods, received a call from George Canellis, a criminal informant known to him. Canellis claimed to have been ‘offered the job’ of killing Megan Kalajzich. He said the murder was arranged by a man named Kerry Orrock. Canellis told Woods he thought the murderer had used his (Canellis’s) gun. Woods arranged for himself and Canellis to meet Detective Sergeant Inkster. At the meeting Canellis told the detectives that it would be in their best interests to investigate the movements of Warren Ellis, an employee of Andrew Kalajzich. Pieces were falling into place.

Warren James Elkins, was a sharp dresser who considered himself a ladies’ man. Elkins wasn’t a criminal, but he was a good talker, and he did have petty convictions for stealing when he was young. While working for the council, Elkins met Kalajzich, who gave him a security job at the Manly Pacific.

In late 1984 the partnership between and Andrew and his brother Tony Kalajzich began to deteriorate. By November the hotel had become Andrew’s alone. At the same time, Elkins was ingratiating himself with Kalajzich. He took to spying on other Manly Pacific staff and also worked in the hotel’s nightclub, Dalleys. He was the only one Kalajzich trusted to know about an affair he was having with his executive assistant. Kalajzich was also guarantor for a variety of Elkins’s loans – one to buy a sports car, another for an apartment.

In June 1985, Kalajzich said he was being threatened. He needed an untraceable gun. Elkins took $1000 in cash. He returned the next morning with a .38 short-nosed handgun and a dozen bullets. Kalajzich said he needed a quiet gun. The next day Elkins produced a .22 automatic rifle. Kalajzich complained that the gun was too long. Elkins sawed off the barrel and butt. His boss still complained.

Weeks later Kalajzich told Elkins to get him a gun with a silencer. He needed to ‘bump someone off’. He asked if Elkins knew anyone who could do it. Elkins said no. Kalajzich knew Elkins wanted the security contract for the hotel. He asked how much it meant to him. Elkins started telling gun suppliers he was shopping on behalf of ‘overseas interests’ with unlimited cash, for a gun with a silencer – these are illegal in all states and territories except South Australia. He had no luck. Kalajzich started to threaten Elkins, saying he knew ‘too much’. Elkins contacted a man called Trevor Hayden. Elkins asked Hayden to track down a gun and ‘a heavy who could use it’.

For $2500, Hayden eventually produced a sawn-off .22 Stirling rifle with a silencer attached. It looked like a small handgun. Elkins took it to Kalajzich and demonstrated its effectiveness by firing it into phone books. Kalajzich had a go, then pointed the gun at Elkins. He warned Elkins never to double-cross him. He added that he still needed ‘someone to pull the trigger’. Elkins asked Hayden, who suggested his flatmate, Bill Vandenburg. Hayden said Vandenburg knew someone ‘who could break bones’.

Vandenburg was a timid animal-loving man, and a drifter. When he had $500 stolen he asked his friend Orrock, who moonlighted as a private investigator in the Newcastle district, if he knew any ‘heavies’. Orrock said he knew George Canellis, who’d ‘put a bloke in hospital for six months’. Vandenburg told Hayden he was going to get the thief sorted out. Hayden asked if his new contact would be into killing someone. Before Vandenburg had the chance to do anything, Elkins turned up. He said he wanted someone ‘rubbed out’. He was willing to pay $10,000.

Canellis was 43, taut, muscular and Mediterranean in appearance. He loved guns. People came to him when they wanted someone scared or hurt. In 1978 he had been charged with the murder of a man who had killed his (Canellis’s) son. He pleaded guilty to occasioning actual bodily harm and served two years. On release, Canellis moved to Kurri Kurri, near Newcastle. He drove trucks and did odd jobs. He owned a second-hand cut-down Stirling .22 rifle with a silencer. He used it to take pot shots at dogs that ransacked his garbage.

Orrock was one of Canellis’s few friends in the area. Just before Christmas 1985, Orrock asked Canellis if he was interested in a ‘knock job’. Canellis said he was, for $30,000 – or $25,000 if the gun was supplied. They called Vandenburg, who said the fee was $10,000. Canellis wouldn’t budge.

By late 1985, Elkins had taken over the security contract for the Manly Pacific. In early December he met Vandenburg and told him Canellis’s price to commit murder. When Elkins passed on the message he was surprised to hear Kalajzich say that he would pay the $25,000. Canellis told Vandenburg he wanted $5000 up front. He also wanted to see the gun. Vandenburg called back to say the money and the gun would be waiting for him. He also asked if the fact that the target was a woman made any difference. It didn’t.

Kalajzich gave Elkins $25,000 and the sawn-off .22 Stirling. The plan was to put $20,000 in a hotel room, and on hearing that the job was completed, place the room key in Vandenburg’s mailbox.

Elkins gave Vandenburg the $5000 and the gun. When Canellis saw the weapon he was furious: it was a cut-down rifle with a dodgy silencer. Canellis told Vandenburg and Orrock he would use his own gun. He also wanted $5000 more.

Two days later, on New Year’s Day 1986, Canellis started his reconnaissance. He followed Megan Kalajzich home, then noted two other cars at the address. Canellis called Vandenburg. He wanted to know who else was in the house. Vandenburg told him that the husband and son also lived there. Canellis explained that he would also have to kill any witnesses, and that he’d been paid to murder one person, not three.

Days passed. Kalajzich grew more agitated. Vandenburg met Elkins and insisted the job be done that evening. Vandenburg met with Canellis. Again he stressed urgency. Canellis said he wasn’t going to be rushed. But he’d decided he wanted nothing more to do with what he considered an unprofessional situation. He drove back to Kurri Kurri, planning to keep the $5000.

On Monday morning, 36 hours later, Elkins got another roasting from Kalajzich; he wanted the gun and money back. Elkins called Vandenburg, who called Canellis. Canellis said they could have the gun, but not the $5000.

Elkins collected the $20,000 and returned it to Kalajzich. The following afternoon, he visited Vandenburg to get the gun and the $5000 advance – Vandenburg had neither. They called Canellis, who refused to return the money. Elkins then called Kalajzich, who asked to speak to Vandenburg. Kalajzich scared Vandenburg, but not as much as Canellis did, so when Kalajzich demanded the name of the hitman, Vandenburg refused to give it up. Elkins suggested that if Vandenburg didn’t want Canellis or Kalajzich coming after him, he should do the job himself with his own gun with the faulty silencer which he (Vandenburg) had kept. Vandenburg met with Orrock and explained that the job was to kill a woman who was ripping off her millionaire hotel-owner husband. Orrock felt partly responsible for the whole situation, because he had introduced Vandenburg to Canellis. They both drove over to check out the Kalajzich house. Orrock then went back to Kurri Kurri to get the gun from Canellis for Vandenburg.

On the evening of 10 January 1986, Vandenburg parked in Fairlight Crescent in a white Falcon sedan hire car rented under his own name. He watched the house and checked the gun – which he didn’t fully know how to operate. Just after midnight a woman pulled a car into the garage. Vandenburg got out and waited as the woman fumbled with her keys at the side door. He put the gun to the back of her head and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked. The woman turned. Their eyes met. Vandenburg panicked. He’d forgotten to cock the rifle. He swung it at the side of her head. She screamed and fell to the floor, but Vandenburg was already on the way back to his car. He drove off before he knew what happened. It wasn’t until he was a few kilometres away that he realised the silencer had fallen off.

May Carmichael heard a scream. She went to the front door and found her daughter standing there, dripping blood from her head. She tried to phone Kalajzich, but had to leave a message at the hotel asking them to call the police. In his office, Kalajzich abused Elkins about the ‘fuck up’.

Three days after the assault, Elkins called Vandenburg. Kalajzich still wanted the job done. He insisted Vandenburg try again, this time inside the house while they were sleeping.

Vandenburg called Orrock to ask for another gun with a silencer. Orrock visited Canellis, who gave him another cut-down Stirling .22, which he had been using to shoot dogs. Orrock called Vandenburg and told him he had a gun, but he would have to find his own silencer. On 16 January, Vandenburg flew to Adelaide. On his return, he drove to Kurri Kurri with two silencers. Orrock screwed one onto the rifle and showed Vandenburg how to use it. Vandenburg’s hands shook. He sprayed bullets everywhere.

Elkins told Kalajzich that everything was set. Kalajzich wanted it to happen Saturday night. He would have dinner with Megan, drive her home at 10 pm and unlock the downstairs back door. When he drove back to the hotel it was Vandenburg’s time to strike.

On Saturday 18 January, Megan had dinner with her husband at the hotel. At 10 pm, Vandenburg watched Kalajzich’s car pull up outside the house. He escorted his wife inside and drove away. Vandenburg went to the back of the house and, 15 minutes later, saw the bedroom light go out. Carrying the rifle, he entered the house – but he heard voices. Light spilled from a bedroom. Inside, a teenage boy watched television. Vandenburg left and called Elkins, who told him he’d done the right thing. The next morning, though, Kalajzich told Elkins he thought Vandenburg was ‘fucking’ with them: he should kill Megan regardless of who was in the house.

A few nights later, Vandenburg returned. The back door was open. He walked in and found the bed empty. Vandenburg called Elkins. The next night he crept in again, but the bed was empty once more. Elkins was as confused as Vandenburg. Kalajzich then decided the job should be done when he was in bed with his wife. He told Elkins that Vandenburg should wait until the lights went out, then fire two shots into Megan, and two shots in Kalajzich’s legs. Vandenburg suggested that, considering how poor he was with a rifle, he’d probably end up killing Kalajzich too. Kalajzich insisted he be shot. Vandenburg said he’d try.

On the evening of 25 January Vandenburg hid in the garden of 31 Fairlight Crescent. He moved to the door. It was locked. The next morning Kalajzich apologised. May Carmichael had locked the door. Vandenburg had to try again that night. But Kalajzich no longer wanted to be shot. Two bullets in his pillow were fine.

The next night, Megan and Kalajzich got home at 11.10 pm. Kalajzich visited the hotel and returned to find Megan watching TV. He got changed into blue pyjamas, took his clothes to the laundry, got a bowl of ice-cream and joined her. At 12.50 am, Megan went to bed. Kalajzich said goodnight. At 1 am he turned off the lights and TV and walked to the bedroom. Megan had left his bedside light on. She was asleep. Kalajzich slipped into bed. He turned out the bedside light and waited.

Vandenburg went inside and climbed the stairs. The bedroom door was ajar. Inside he moved between the bed and the wardrobe. He could make out two shapes, lying back to back. The woman faced the wardrobe. He placed the gun near her head. As he pulled the trigger there was a hollow thud; he fired again. The other figure rolled off the bed. Vandenburg pointed the gun at the mattress and fired twice more, then raced away.

From the floor next to the bed Kalajzich called to his wife. Getting no reply, he turned on the light, revealing blood all over her face, and flowing down the side of her head. She was gasping. He ran into the corridor and called up to the other bedrooms before locking the back door. It was 1.13 am.

Vandenburg drove to Lane Cove National Park. He grabbed the gun, but it went off twice, hitting his car. He threw it in the water. He threw the silencer in bushes 200 metres away.

At 6.30 am Vandenburg called Orrock to say the job was done. At 10.30 am, Canellis demanded to know where the gun he gave Orrock was. Orrock said that as far as he knew, Vandenburg had it. Canellis said he wanted to see Vandenburg.

Vandenburg moved into the Cronulla Beach Resort to ‘lie low’. Three days after the murder, Elkins handed him a briefcase containing $15,000. The original price was $20,000. Elkins had deducted $5000 for expenses. Vandenburg deposited $4000 in his bank account at Sylvania, then drove to Orrock’s place at Kurri Kurri.

•••

On 30 January, Detective Sergeant Inkster met Canellis with Detective Sergeant Woods. Inkster asked if Canellis would give a statement. The next day, Woods brought Canellis to police headquarters. An eight-hour interview between Inkster and Canellis followed. Canellis gave Inkster three names: Bill Vandenburg, Kerry Orrock and a man named Warren [Elkins].

At 7 am on 14 February 1996, Vandenburg woke to find seven detectives smashing in his front door. It had been 18 days since Megan’s murder. Inkster asked if he had any firearms. Vandenburg directed them to the rifle. Inkster asked if he had any information about the murder. Vandenburg said, ‘It was me who pulled the trigger.’ Inkster asked if the gun they had just found was the one he used for the murder. Vandenburg said it wasn’t – he’d thrown the murder weapon into the Lane Cove River. He offered to show them where.

Vandenburg then showed them the car with the bullet holes in the door. Before the car was taken to the ballistics unit Inkster collected a leather briefcase, a silencer, and a street directory with pen marks on Fairlight Crescent. On the way to the station, they stopped to look for the gun. Vandenburg pointed them towards a grassy area, where they found the silencer.

Orrock also woke to find detectives at the end of his bed. The detectives said he was under arrest. During the ride to the station Orrock fingered Vandenburg as the killer.

At 3.20 pm that afternoon, Elkins was arrested in relation to Megan’s death. Elkins told the police he hadn’t pulled the trigger, but he knew who had. During his interview, Elkins said he worked for Kalajzich. His job was to ‘make sure everything runs smoothly’. The detective produced three briefcases found in his flat. Inside one was a receipt for $404.64 with Vandenburg’s name on it. The others contained recording equipment. Elkins was then asked if he knew Trevor Hayden, and if he had ever met anyone through Hayden. He gave Vandenburg’s name.

At 6 pm that day Detective Sergeant Richardson took a call from Kalajzich, saying he believed arrests had been made in relation to his wife’s murder. Kalajzich came to the station and agreed to be questioned. He was joined by his solicitor, who said he had advised his client not to say anything. Richardson produced a search warrant for the hotel. As the search was being carried out, Kalajzich was charged with Megan’s murder.

A month after the killing, Inkster still had no motive. Then he was pointed in the direction of proof that the Kalajzich’s marriage was unhappy – Lydia Iurman. On 18 March Inkster visited Lydia, who admitted to her relationship with Kalajzich. Inkster asked about letters Kalajzich had sent her in Brazil. Lydia produced all 69 of them. After reading the letters, it all started to become clear to Inkster. Kalajzich sounded love-struck, desperate and arrogant. The car accident in September 1973 happened in the month after Lydia had returned from Brazil. Inkster went over the reports and wondered about Megan’s behaviour – did she say nothing because she was scared, or because she couldn’t believe her husband had tried to kill her and their son?

The committal hearing started on 7 July 1986 before Magistrate Greg Glass. On the third day Lydia Iurman told the court how Andrew had promised to marry her in 1976, and how he had stood her up. She said they rekindled their affair in 1982.

On 25 July Glass determined that Vandenburg’s statement admitting firing the fatal shots was not admissible evidence against Kalajzich. For the case against him to go further, the prosecution would have to produce evidence that he had committed the offence.

Inkster was disappointed. He discussed the case with the prosecutor, who decided to ask the attorney-general to consider an ex-officio indictment against Kalajzich.

Vandenburg was Kalajzich’s biggest threat. The night after his release, Kalajzich told Elkins, who was also out on bail, to offer Vandenburg $40,000 plus a home unit in Perth to keep quiet.

On 24 August Vandenburg called Elkins, who recorded a mock conversation designed to indicate that Vandenburg had implicated Elkins and Kalajzich because he was under pressure from other, unnamed, heavies. Kalajzich was unimpressed. He wanted Vandenburg to make a statement. Vandenburg had no intention of doing so.

On 1 December, Inkster received a message asking him to contact Vandenburg. He’d had enough of being pressured for a statement. The next day he spent five hours telling Inkster and Richardson everything he knew about the murder plot. He made a statement, signed it and said he wanted to plead guilty and give evidence for the Crown.

On 17 December, Inkster arrested and charged Elkins with conspiring to pervert the course of justice and conspiring to murder Vandenburg. The next day, an ex-officio indictment for Kalajzich’s arrest of murder was filed and a warrant for his arrest was issued. At 8 pm Inkster arrested Kalajzich. The next day, Kalajzich was granted $200,000 bail.

On 31 December Elkins said he would talk, and applied for immunity. On 22 May 1987 he was sentenced to 10 years with a non-parole period of five years for conspiring to murder Megan Kalajzich. Six days later Vandenburg was sentenced to life. Two days after that, extra charges were laid against Orrock and Kalajzich. On top of the conspiracy to murder charges, they both faced murder and attempted murder charges.

The second committal hearing started on 19 October. Vandenburg and Elkins both gave evidence for the Crown. Orrock and Kalajzich were committed to trial. It began on 7 March 1988. Both Elkins and Canellis had turns in the witness stand, with Elkins arguing that he was only operating on Kalajzich’s instructions. Canellis said he had pulled out of the job because it was ‘a balls-up’.

On 12 April, Vandenburg described the early hours of 27 January and how Kalajzich had rolled off the bed as agreed. Under cross-examination, Vandenburg said he knew nothing about weapons, had never owned a gun and, until 10 days before Megan’s murder, had never fired one.

The jurors retired at 11 am on 25 May 1988. Each of the men was found guilty of the three charges against them. Andrew Kalajzich was sentenced to 14 years for conspiracy to murder, 12 years for attempted murder, and life for the murder of his wife. Kerry Orrock was also sentenced to life imprisonment for his part in the murder of Megan Kalajzich.

On the Saturday after the sentencing, Vandenburg took a handful of sleeping pills and hanged himself in his cell with sheets torn from his bed.

In November 1996, Kalajzich’s life sentence was re-determined to 28 years’ imprisonment with a minimum of 25. He will be eligible for parole in 2011.

In November 1996, Orrock was released on condition that he give evidence against Kalajzich in a further charge of conspiracy to pervert justice relating to the murder of Megan Kalajzich. The charge was eventually dismissed.