As I write, almost forty-four years have passed since Juanita Nielsen was murdered and my obsession began. Not surprisingly, friends are astounded by my persistence with the story of the contract killing of the campaigning Sydney journalist.
“What drives you?” they ask. “After so many rejections, so much disappointment, how do you find the motivation to keep going?”
It’s not a question I can easily answer, so I reply that I knew the lady when I lived in Sydney and saw her shortly before she disappeared, that thus I was motivated, compelled even, to investigate.
As to the longevity: I think of what I discovered about Juanita’s final hour of life, of the heinous end she faced; the drugged rape, the vile torture, the bestial means of her murder; of the gross final act of the inhumanity that bordered upon waste disposal of a human body.
Then I think of the killer cop responsible and the two cowardly thugs he hired to help him overpower a defenceless young woman, of their boastful glee at their depraved actions.
I recall the corrupt cops who covered-up the hideous events they were meant to be investigating, cops so crooked I doubt they could lie straight in bed. I think, too, of the bit players, the patsies in this convoluted plot, and of the mastermind responsible for the malign death contract devised solely to protect his continued criminality, his fortune. All this has been the motivation, the raison d’etre for pursuing the story to its final full stop. I was driven, but it has not been a simple motivation. Lots of brick walls arose in the way.
Over the years, timid publishers and a compliant media left every stone unturned until finally my disappointment and frustration turned to desperation. Í returned to Sydney alone for the first time since death threats forced me to flee the country for the safety of my bride all those years ago.
I renewed some old friendships, gathered some fresh evidence and, thanks to an introduction to a literary agent, established contacts with book publishers and film makers now interested in my story, my book. It will take a little more time for the obsession to reach fruition but after forty-four years a few weeks is not even a drop in the ocean of time. I have, after all, learned patience.
Fascinated friends are delighted and begging for further news. I shall keep you all informed. Watch this space.

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