SYDNEY HARD MAN V. MELBOURNE MADMAN
‘I don’t think he intended to
kill Domican that day because
he didn’t take gloves or a mask
with him, as he would usually do
in those circumstances.’
CHRIS Flannery had seen the look many times. The look of terror on the face of a victim just before the bullets hit.
But on 27 January 1985, he was to feel for the first time what it would be like to be on the wrong end of the gun muzzle.
He and Kath had been to the Arncliffe Scots Club for the afternoon and after seeing some visitors off began walking up the driveway to their house in Turrella Street, Turrella.
It was 5.45pm when a green car pulled up and war was declared.
The gunman in the car opened up, firing around 30 shots at Flannery. The couple hid behind their Ford LTD and Flannery was shot in the hand and ear as he pushed his wife’s head beneath the car for protection.
The Flannerys’ eleven-year-old daughter began to come out the front door and (Kath said later) two bullets missed the child’s head ‘by inches.’
The killers had the Flannerys hopelessly exposed. There was nowhere for Chris to run – a case of shooting fish in a barrel. But at the critical moment the gunman changed magazines or suffered a momentary jam so Chris ran and vaulted the fence, hoping to draw the fire away from his family.
Kath ran inside and grabbed a Ruger rifle and gave it to her husband but the car sped off before Flannery could launch a counter attack.
Incredibly, he survived with just a nick to his ear and hand, a bruised ego and a burning desire to seek revenge.
When police arrived, a shaken Kath was prepared to make a statement until Flannery told her to say nothing. He also refused to let the children speak to the police. It was clear Flannery decided that he, and not the police, would be in charge of the investigation.
He was taken to the St George Hospital but discharged himself as soon as he was treated. From that moment on he was on the move – first heading to Queensland, then returning but moving from motel to motel, and changing hire cars every two days.
Initially he thought the killer was from Melbourne – the last surviving Kane brother, Ray ‘Muscles’ Kane.
So why did he think he was in danger from Kane? Flannery was a close mate of Laurie Prendergast, who had been one of the three gunmen charged with killing Les Kane. Perhaps Flannery was suspected of some involvement in the murder of Brian Kane in the Quarry Hotel in November 1982. He had been bailed just weeks earlier, after the first Locksley jury failed to reach a verdict and was certainly available for selection at the time.
Or perhaps it was because he had killed Les ‘Johnny’ Cole (a Kane ally), who’d been shot dead in Sydney just over two weeks before Brian Kane was killed. But for once, ‘Muscles’ was innocent. Within hours, Flannery decided the gunman was Marrickville garbo turned underworld heavyweight, Tommy Domican.
Born in Ireland in 1943, Domican was a London nightclub bouncer who migrated to Australia in 1968. A fearsome-looking fitness fanatic with deep and disturbing links to inner-Sydney ALP branches through local politics; he was a dangerous enemy with serious ambitions.
He was the man suspected of having organised the horrendous bashing of local politician (later Senator) Peter Baldwin in his own home. No one was ever charged. It would be the story of Domican’s life. Accused of many crimes, he was rarely convicted.
So what caused Domican to be blamed for launching the attack on Flannery?
Just twelve days earlier there had been a bust-up over lucrative video poker machines running in an ethnic club in Enmore. Underworld heavyweight Lennie McPherson had his machines there but it was alleged Domican had them removed and replaced with another set. The new ones were later thrown out and damaged.
A murder taskforce reported that, on 15 January, ‘Domican is reported to have had a heated exchange with McPherson over the phone, during the course of which they each threatened to kill each other.’
Police speculate that as McPherson and Freeman were business associates George may have lent Lennie his hit man to go to war.
There was a suggestion that Flannery broke into the home of the front man for the McPherson machines and threatened to kill his children. Whether this is true doesn’t really matter. What is important is whether Domican believed Flannery was after him.
Enter the New South Wales police. Despite Domican’s reputation, he felt perfectly comfortable calling a policeman to ask him to rat the confidential intelligence files for information on the Melbourne gunman.
On 19 January Domican rang the policeman and asked him to find out about Flannery.
‘I’ve heard rumours he could be looking for me. He’s done about fourteen murders. I don’t even know what he looks like,’ Domican said.
Tom told the policeman Flannery had shot Mick Drury and was known as ‘Rentakill’. The policeman did make a call but did not report the approach even though he must have known Domican may have planned a pre-emptive strike.
‘He (Domican) once told me that if anything ever threatened his life or family he would do something about it first. He is a man totally capable of it,’ the policeman later told the taskforce, far too late. Certainly McPherson was concerned for his own welfare as he described Domican as ‘quite mad.’
Around the time Domican was known to be trying to find out about Flannery, the latter’s young stepson noticed a green two-door car parked near the house.
It was on 25 January, when Chris was in a paddock at the end of the street. His stepson Peter saw a Mazda two- door hatchback parked opposite their house. ‘This car was parked so that the occupant could see the front of the Flannery home,’ the National Crime Authority found.
At different times an orange Ford Falcon was seen in the street with the occupant apparently conducting surveillance of the Flannery house – but more of that car later.
Peter later identified the driver of the green car as Tom Domican – even though the gunman was believed to be wearing a wig and a false moustache.
National Crime Authority investigators, including Glenn Woolfe and Bob Ryan, went back to the street and did what apparently the New South Wales police failed to do – a simple door knock of the area.
One neighbour remembered that on the day of the shooting he heard what he believed was a car backfiring but when his father said it was a machine gun they dived into the garage. When he looked again he saw a green Mazda 121 driving off with one man in the front seat and one in the rear. His brother also saw a green car but could not identify the make.
At least two other neighbours made statements that they had seen a green car drive off in the street immediately after the shooting. It would be pivotal evidence.
In 1981 Domican had bought a silver two door 1978 Mazda 121. But later he had it spray painted – green. In an amazing coincidence, Domican reported the car stolen the day after the attempt on Flannery’s life. It was never recovered.
The National Crime Authority concluded: ‘The natural and logical inference to be drawn here is that Domican reported his car stolen because he suspected that some people may have witnessed it leaving the scene.’
Domican had called Newtown police at 3.30 pm to report his car was missing but when told he would have to report it in person he said he could not come in immediately.
The National Crime Authority noted that the car was allegedly stolen just 300 metres from the station and yet Domican could not walk up to the station to make the report.
Why?
Perhaps he feared the police could tip off Flannery, who might then have set up an ambush. Or, as the National Crime Authority found: ‘The inference here is that Domican was hiding in fear some considerable distance away after his unsuccessful attempt on Flannery’s life the previous day.’
It was probably a wise move. Flannery was soon back after a week in Noosa and immediately began planning a counter attack.
‘Chris went to Domican’s house and watched him take the rubbish out. Chris recognised him as the man who shot at him,’ Kath later said. Flannery told his wife he planned to kill the man they called ‘Tough Tom’ – even discussing how long his jail term would be if he were caught.
Certainly, Domican knew there would be a backlash and he wouldn’t have to wait long to feel it.
While Flannery had a sense of theatre and a sense of timing, he was not known for his sense of humour. But in the days leading up to his attempt to kill Domican, Rentakill showed just a glimpse of his lighter side.
His hastily formed hit team needed a ‘clean’ car and Chris always preferred to use Valiants on a killing mission (closely followed by Fords; he was never a Holden hit man).
Two men went to a Sydney car yard and bought a Valiant for $650 cash. When asked the name of the purchaser they gave it as ‘Thomas Domican’. The scallywags even provided Tough Tom’s previous address.
On the morning of 3 April, Victor John Camilleri and Kevin Victor Theobold drove to Domican’s house in Kingsgrove. The two were regular visitors and used the gym in Tom’s house almost daily.
Both men were considered tough but in an underworld war, medium-size fish are always in danger from the sharks and Flannery was a maneater close to the top of the foodchain.
Theobold told police they drove there to tell Domican they would not be training with him that day (clearly petrol was much more reasonably priced in those days and cheaper than a simple phone call).
The trip was a waste of time as, according to Theobold, Domican was out for a (convenient) training run. After a quick cup of coffee with Mrs T the two men drove away in an orange Ford Falcon. Exactly the same type of car spotted doing surveillance on Flannery.
As the two men were driving along, the Valiant drove past and Flannery opened fire, hitting Camilleri in the neck with the bullet passing through his lung and into his stomach.
Camilleri spent ten days in hospital but refused to co-operate with the police investigation. Later, when the Valiant was found abandoned, it was clear that Flannery’s team had not escaped unscathed. The back windshield had been shot out and there was damage to the nearside rear fender – probably from a .44 calibre bullet.
The murder taskforce was told that Domican was actually in the Ford and returned fire during the attack. When interviewed, Flannery denied involvement but said he was convinced Domican was trying to kill him.
So what really happened?
The most likely version of events is that Flannery went to the area near Domican’s house on 3 April with two men, the same two believed to have killed Danny Chubb on behalf of Neddy Smith.
It is likely it was a dry run or a simple surveillance operation. Flannery preferred to do his killings at night and prided himself on his preparation. But this time it went wrong from the beginning.
Later, Domican was alleged to have told an underworld heavy he saw Flannery’s team parked at Bexley North Railway Station near his home and dispatched Theobold and Camilleri to try and ambush them.
Domican then went by foot and hid in some long grass. He was able to fire first, but he missed. Flannery returned fire, shooting out the back window, and began firing at the orange Ford, hitting Camilleri. When Flannery’s Valiant was recovered there were bloodstains in the back seat that were never identified.
Of all those involved most won’t talk because they are not so inclined or can’t talk because they are dead. Except for Kath Flannery, that is. Her recollections were clear.
‘He (Chris) was looking for Domican to kill him. I think Domican was also searching for Chris to kill him … I don’t think he intended to kill Domican that day because he didn’t take gloves or a mask with him, as he would usually do in those circumstances, so that he wouldn’t be recognised or leave fingerprints. All of a sudden, he came face to face with Domican and his group, which forced the situation on for which he hadn’t planned.
‘Domican fired one shot at the car, then Chris opened fire on the orange car and that was it.
‘He was forced to act in self-defence. He thought the shots were coming from another car. The last thing he would be involved in would be shooting people in broad daylight unless forced to.’
After the shooting Flannery came home, she said.
‘Chris told me to go to the airport and hire a car because after Camilleri was shot he had to get rid of the car, the Valiant I am talking about.
‘What happened was Chris came running home and he was bleeding from the hand and he said that he had been shot and that he had shot at another car.’
After they had dumped the car, the gun and the clothes they drove back to the crime scene for a look. ‘I think the police had been there and gone by then although there were still people about.’
Flannery was determined. Little more than a week later, he had another go.
On 12 April Domican went to the Kingsgrove police station to be questioned but yet again someone let the cat out of the bag, or in this case the crook out of the boob. On his way home, a motorbike went past with two people on it. Domican recognised Flannery as the passenger. According to Neddy Smith, the other rider was Flannery’s Melbourne mate, Laurie Prendergast.
In his book Neddy, Smith wrote, ‘They had the bike running and Chris had a .357 magnum revolver ready in his hand. They spotted Domican and moved off. They made a pass to make sure it was him. Silly move, as Tom saw them straight away. They turned around for another run and Chris started shooting, missing with every shot. Tom grabbed a gun and started shooting back at the two escaping on the motorbike. He, too, missed.
‘Chris fucked up badly with his cowboy tactics and the fact that he had missed was the beginning of his demise. He lost any respect that he had had.’
Certainly Coroner Glass was sure there had been a second attempt to kill Domican. ‘I concluded from the evidence that this was an attempt on the life of Domican and the probabilities are that the person responsible was Flannery and an unknown companion.’
So both sides had thrown what they had hoped would be the knockout blow and missed.
Now it was time for round two.