The anatomy of a conman

I was in Brisbane having a leisurely lunch (what else?) when I was diverted towards Mt Cootha to do a television interview by satellite for “A Current Affair”, but this time a debate with Jana Wendt and the Minister for Consumer Affairs.

At lunch I was unshaven, wearing a Hot Tuna t'shirt, and tennis shorts. Before I would appear on TV, I got Rick Burnett, the Channel Nine correspondent in Queensland to strip off his shirt and tie and loan me his razor blade. Whilst I went toe to toe with Channel Nine's finest, with instructions to shoot me waist high only, so they couldn't see the tennis shorts below the jacket and tie, he was standing off camera half naked.

But the Australian public saw me as I wanted to be perceived, as though I had just left my office desk, as the Minister obviously had done. Not as the champagne swilling larrikin who was out lunching with ladies.

That sophisticated persona disintegrated when Foster described in the manuscript how he was a registered police informer on two continents:

I went undercover for the Federal Police as an operative to infiltrate and crush a major international drug trafficking syndicate.

Working with the field name, “Mr Clarence” I wore listening devises and covertly
recorded meetings with the Mr Big’s of the proposed largest importation of heroin in Australia’s history.

What sounds inconceivable considering the public perception of me, is a hard fact. It is forever acknowledged in a letter from the Australian Federal Police, held on file by the Supreme Court, confirming that I had on several occasions risked my life to bring our operation to a successful conclusion.

My drug busting crusade also extended to England where I became a registered undercover informer for the British police. My task in the operation code named “Outreach” was exposing corruption within a prison run charity. Established to educate our children about the perils of drug use, the fund was being plundered by putrescent prison officers, placing at risk the lives of innocent children.

This revelation placed me in an unenviable position. Should I abide by jail yard principles that had been part of my life for over three decades of criminality and prison time? Should I out Foster as a dog (an informer), which would invariably cause him serious harm and possible death within the sub-culture of maximum security prisons, or should I ignore what I had read?

My dilemma was compounded by the fact that I was studying for my BA in journalism at that time. And I didn’t have to be a Rhodes Scholar to realise the journalistic value of the memoirs Foster had left on my computer’s hard drive. It prompted my decision. I downloaded the incriminating material and cleared the hard drive. I had probably saved his life but he would never know. His secret was safe.

In return, I had the original unpublished DIY Conman’s Bible written by the king of conmen himself. By jail yard rules it was a fair swap.

It was years later, during the “Cheriegate” affair, Foster tried to hawk his unpublished memoirs to the British media for $1.2 million dollars but the deal fell over. He outed himself as police informer on two continents at the same time figuring he would never see the inside of an Australian prison again.

Unfortunately for Foster, the unpublished memoirs and his informing activities were already part of my journalism research files. And I wasn’t asking $1.2 million. The price of a schooner and a bit of freelance work is an adequate asking price for any journo.

As the Teflon coated conman sits in a Queensland prison cell pondering his fate, the prospect of 20-years behind bars must be a daunting spectre for him. His informing activities over a decade ago have placed others in similar situations. As they say on the yard “what goes around, comes around”. Prisoners have long memories.

The Teflon coated fraudster is in the middle of a delicate balancing act in which not only his freedom, but his life is also at stake. Peter Foster has managed to wiggle out of tighter spots in the past. Can he do it again? Only time will tell.