Buried in the labyrinth

Jones, meanwhile, had been taken to live in a house in the grounds of Ararat jail. In the media, the controversy faded. We were carrying on with our lives, walking past the house.

Freedom of information is a sunny title for a bureaucratic law. When the legislation was introduced in Victoria in 1982, I was part of the team of Age journalists who explored its use. We took literally the legislation's promise: that the presumption was openness, the intention democratic - to build trust between government and citizen. That was our rhetoric. The truth is probably that we just wanted good stories.

Freedom of information used to be fun. There is nothing exciting about freedom of information these days. It is a weary process.

My request was made on July 22. Ten days later, I got a reply that acknowledged receipt, and told me that the Adult Parole Board and Corrections Victoria held relevant documents, but the Adult Parole Board, as an independent statutory body, was not subject to freedom of information.

It was September 28 before I got my decision, which was a refusal. The documents were exempt from the act, it was said.

On October 4, I submitted a request for an internal review - the first step of the appeal process. In particular, I emphasised that I did not want personal information about Jones or his victims, nor did I want to prejudice law enforcement. I only wanted to know about the environmental checks. In November, I rang once more and was told that a decision had been made to refuse me access in total.

I lodged an appeal with VCAT. The case was set down for hearing, then adjourned at the Government's request. I hired a barrister. Finally, on July 19, 2006, more than a year after Jones had been brought to our suburb to live, we had our day in court.

Two officers of the Department of justice gave evidence. The first was a small, middle-aged woman with a husky voice and an air of great sincerity. The second was the Deputy Commissioner of Corrections Victoria, Paul Delphine. This was the man who had overseen the "environmental scans".

He gave the air of being affronted by the cross-examination process. Had he been aware, my barrister asked, that the walking bus met outside the subject house? He replied that he hadn't known this until he read my statement. Had he been aware that children lived next door? Not until he read my statement. They hadn't known. Nor, it emerged, had they checked with police, or the council, or local schools, or neighbours.

I had part of the answer I was seeking, but then my barrister was stopped from asking more questions, since it was clear that the stuff the department was trying to suppress was coming out in any case.

The department's lawyer asked Delphine if he was confident the environmental checks had been "rigorous and professional". "Yes", he said.

The judgment came down on October 19, 2006. I had lost. Justice Davis said the public interest in the effective operation of the parole system, including public servants being willing to give full and frank reports to the Parole Board, outweighed my "private interest in examining the process by which the property at 137 Kent Street came to be selected in a particular instance".