Casefile True Crime - Case 101: Sian Kingi

Episode Date: November 24, 2018

12-year-old Sunshine Coast schoolgirl Sian Kingi was looking forward to her friend’s upcoming birthday party. She joined her mother at the shops in Noosa Heads to buy fabric for a new outfit and then rode her usual bike route home. --- Episode narrated by the Anonymous Host Episode researched and written by Eileen Ormsby, author of ‘The Darkest Web – Drugs, Death and Destroyed Lives: The inside story of the internet’s evil twin’ For all credits and sources please visit casefilepodcast.com/case-101-sian-kingi

Our episodes deal with serious and often distressing incidents. If you feel at any time you need support, please contact your local crisis centre. For suggested phone numbers for confidential support, please see the show notes for this episode on your app or on our website. Today's episode deals with a crime committed against a child that won't be suitable for all listeners. As the midweek workday was wrapping up on Wednesday, November 11, 1987, staff were closing stores and filtering out of offices throughout Ipswich, an inland urban region on the western edge of Brisbane in Queensland, Australia. At 5.30pm, 24 year old retail assistant Cheryl Mortimer finished her shift at the Target department store located in

the Buval Fair shopping centre. After business hours, activity around the centre had died down significantly and very few people were still around. The adjacent car park, which was usually packed with cars, was now quiet and near deserted. Cheryl collected her vehicle and drove towards the parking light exit, where her attention was drawn to an unassuming middle-aged woman with short hair and a frumpy physique. The woman was flagging Cheryl down, indicating she needed directions. Cheryl pulled over to assist. As the two women interacted, a younger looking, slim man seemingly sprang out of nowhere and rushed at Cheryl, placing a knife to her throat. The man cut his own hand with the knife accidentally, leaving his bloody fingerprints

smeared on the window of Cheryl's car. The attack came to an abrupt halt when one of Cheryl's colleagues appeared and approached the scene, causing the man and woman to flee in a white-holden Kingswood station wagon. Shaken but otherwise unheard, Cheryl went straight to the police station to report the incident, providing a detailed statement of her ordeal, including a description of the perpetrator's vehicle and her best recollection of its licence plate. She believed it to have been an interstate licence plate, perhaps from New South Wales, with the registration number LLE 439. By seven o'clock that evening, Ipswich police tracked down the person linked to the registration number given by Cheryl Mortimer. They discovered the licence plates

were attached to a Toyota Corolla sedan, not a holding station wagon. Its owner resided in a country town in the neighbouring state of New South Wales and had been nowhere near Queensland that night, indicating Cheryl had misread her perpetrator's licence plate. The bloody fingerprint was taken from the window of Cheryl's car, but with no suspects to compare it to, all officers could do was store it on file in hopes it might lead them to identifying the perpetrator in the future. Despite having little to go on, Detective Constable Graham Hall of the Ipswich Criminal Investigation Branch was determined to find Cheryl Mortimer's attackers. He ran a small notice about the assault in the local Ipswich newspaper. This publicity led to two nurses

from Ipswich General Hospital coming forward, both revealing they too had frightening encounters with a man in a white Kingswood Holden station wagon. These encounters occurred on Tuesday, November 10, the night before Cheryl Mortimer's attack. Both confrontations occurred late at night in the hospital car park when the women were leaving work. In one instance, the man banged on the window of one of the nurses' cars, giving her such a fright that she locked her doors and quickly drove away. The other nurse, Nicole Close, had been coaxed out of her vehicle by the man who was holding a map and requesting directions. He stood far too close to Nicole for comfort, but her nervousness became stomach-turning fear when she noticed Hessian bags and ropes in the

back seat of his car. She was inadvertently saved by another hospital employee who happened to pass by, startling the man and giving Nicole the opportunity to jump back into her own vehicle and drive away. Nicole Close told police she thought the license plate of the man's white station wagon was LLF-429. This was near identical to the license plate number given by Cheryl Mortimer, except for a minor difference in a letter and digit. There was little doubt that all three women were confronted by the same man using the same vehicle, and in Cheryl's case, he was assisted by an older woman. Yet, an interstate search on the license plate registration offered by Nicole Close also came up blank. A police staffer spent their entire

shift sifting through a vehicle database, running combinations of letters and numbers of the perpetrator's registration provided by their victims, hoping to stumble across one linked to a Holden Kingswood station wagon. This extensive search proved fruitless, and the couple accosting women throughout Ipswich remained unidentified. Although the perpetrators were still on the loose, no further incidents were reported to Ipswich police over the following weeks, leading investigators to hope the couple's terrifying crime spree had come to an end. Friday, November 27, 1987.

A warm spring day in the coastal retreat of Nusa, typical weather for Queensland's Sunshine Coast, 180 kilometres north of Ipswich. Before it was renamed Nusa Heads in 1988 and became a cosmopolitan playground for cached-up holidaymakers, Nusa was a quiet, safe town, populated by sun-seeking retirees and young families. They were lured by its perfect weather and pristine beaches, looking to escape the big city for a more laid-back, seaside lifestyle. Thirty-one-year-old bartender Elizabeth Young and her friend Bill Wallace decided to make the most of the barmy weather by spending the afternoon swimming at Castaway's Beach, a stretch of ocean around seven kilometres south of the Nusa township. After eating lunch, Elizabeth and Bill

were cooling off in the surf, when suddenly the black Labrador dog they had brought along started growling at someone who was walking along the shoreline. Elizabeth looked up to see an unshaven man who appeared to be aged in his 30s. His sun-bleached hair was typical of the area, but his scruffy, King G brand industrial workshorts and shirt was out of place attire for the beach. Elizabeth recalled, quote, he looked like a farmer looking for his cows. There was something very odd about the way he was dressed, and he wasn't looking at the water. The man looked vaguely familiar to Elizabeth. She thought she had seen him the previous day, too, looking similarly dishevelled, perhaps even drunk. Elizabeth waved and called out a greeting, but the man did not

respond. Instead, he gave her an unwavering cold stare, which along with the aggressive reaction of her usually placid dog, made the hairs on the back of Elizabeth's neck prickle with alarm. The unknown man resumed walking with purpose back and forth among the dunes as if he was searching for something. Bill suggested to Elizabeth that they head to the car park to check on his vehicle, as it had been broken into several times whilst parked at Castaway's beach, and he suspected the stranger might be responsible. When the pair reached the car park, Bill's land cruiser was still locked, and nothing had been taken. But Bill didn't like the look of the only other vehicle in the small car park, a white, dust-covered, holding Kingswood station wagon

with a black and white license plate that indicated it was registered interstate. Bill and Elizabeth eventually returned to the beach, moving to a spot where they could keep an eye on activity around the car park. Just before 3pm, Elizabeth and Bill caught sight of the strange man from earlier getting into the white station wagon. Sensing something wasn't right, Elizabeth and Bill decided to follow the vehicle in their land cruiser, trailing its 7km northward to the Noosa Junction shopping precinct. Located a 25-minute walk from Noosa's main beach and national park, the junction was a bustling hub of supermarkets, retail stores, and cafes. Elizabeth and Bill witnessed the station wagon driving towards Pinaroo Park,

a large section of woodland located at the rear of the Noosa Junction shopping centre. The park backed onto Noosa's suburbs, making its narrow, tree-lined pathways a useful thoroughfare for those walking to and from the junction. But its hidden away aspect also made it a popular place for late-night parties and hangouts. It was at this time that Elizabeth and Bill lost sight of the station wagon in traffic. The entire situation unnerved Elizabeth, but she and Bill agreed that they couldn't go to the police to report someone simply because they seemed strange. They put the occurrence to the back of their minds and continued on with their day. That same afternoon, at around 3.30pm, the end of day bell rang out across Queensland

schoolyards. Year 7 student, 12-year-old Sean Kingey rushed out of her classroom at Sunshine Beach School and immediately jumped on her prized possession, her 10-speed yellow Repco racing bike. She rode over to meet her mother, Linda, at the Noosa Fair Shopping Centre in Noosa Junction. Linda had agreed to help her daughter find the perfect material to make into a skirt for a birthday party Sean was attending over the weekend. Sean was excited about Sunday's party. She was popular among her classmates and loved to socialise and dance. At school, she enjoyed a jazz ballet and playing on the netball team, her 167cm slim frame giving her a significant height advantage over the other girls her age. Sean inherited long, straight,

golden blonde hair from her mother's side that had the olive skin and enormous dark eyes of her maury father. Teachers found her quiet and well behaved and she charmed everyone she met with her shy nature and good manners. At around 4.45pm, the mother and daughter successfully completed their mission to find material for Sean's skirt. Before embarking on the 1km walk back to their house in Noosa's suburbs, Linda decided to stop in to the bakery to buy a loaf of bread for the weekend. Sean told her mother that she would get a head start on her bike as she was eager to change out of her school uniform, a blue and white striped summer dress. Linda Kingey didn't hesitate in agreeing to let her daughter make the short bike ride home.

Noosa in the 80s was like a country town on the beach, safe and secure, where no one was a stranger. Parents didn't think twice about letting their children walk or ride their bikes till and from school or to visit friends and play in the park until it was time to come home for dinner. After she purchased the bread, Linda would take a shortcut home along the sandy walking path. Meanwhile, Sean would ride along the bike track through nearby Piniru Park. The bike track weaved from behind the brightly lit busy shopping centre through picturesque, quiet parklands of the reserve. It was a kilometre long ride Sean had taken a hundred times before. Despite the extra distance, with the head start, Sean would easily beat her mother home.

The 12-year-old slung her olive green school bag over her shoulders, climbed onto her bike and set off. Linda selected a loaf from the hot bread display, her transaction which only took a couple of minutes. She then started the walk to the Kingi family homestead via the sandy track. When Linda arrived home a short time later, Sean and her bike were nowhere to be seen. Linda didn't think much of it, assuming her daughter had run into some friends on the way home and stopped to chat about school or the forthcoming party. However, when dusk approached and Sean still hadn't returned home, Linda became increasingly concerned. Her daughter was not prone to disobedience or thoughtlessness and it was very out of character for her to stay out

so much later than she knew she was allowed to. Linda picked up the phone and began making calls to all of Sean's friends, trying to locate her. But each response confirmed that none of them had seen Sean since they left school for the day. Sean's father, Barry Kingi, arrived home a little after 8pm and was immediately alerted to the fact that Linda hadn't seen their daughter since the pair had parted ways at Noosa Junction around 4.45pm. The couple immediately set off to Pinaroo Park to retrace the route Sean would have taken, hoping to find her along the way. When the concerned parents arrived at the bike track, it only took them a few minutes to find Sean's yellow bike discarded on the side of the path, but there was no sign of their daughter.

Knowing there was no way Sean would have willingly abandoned her beloved bike, Linda and Barry placed the bicycle into the trailer of Barry's ute and headed straight to the police station. The couple walked into the Noosa police station at 8.40pm and presented their daughter's photograph to Detective Sergeant Bob Ackinson. Noosa was a town of less than 15,000 residents and Sergeant Ackinson knew 12-year-old Sean Kingi by sight as she played in the same netball league as his own daughter. The Kingi's assured Ackinson that would be completely out of character for Sean to run away or not come home by nightfall. Ackinson accompanied the Kingi's back to Pinaroo Park to check whether Sean had perhaps

injured herself or fallen unconscious nearby, but Sean wasn't there and neither were her belongings. Detective Sergeant Ackinson was highly concerned, but he knew theirs was a safe and close knit community, so he tried to remain positive. Quote, I would have thought that 5.30 in the afternoon in Noosa in summer would have been one of the safest places in Australia for a kitty to be. Upon returning to the station, Ackinson rang the night desk of the local newspaper Sunshine Coast to Daily. It was past the deadline for print submissions, but the newspaper made an exception and agreed to run the photograph of Sean along with the details of her disappearance for the Saturday morning edition of the paper. Sean Kingi was officially declared a missing person.

Barry and Linda Kingi endured a sleepless night without their daughter. They waited anxiously for daybreak when they could resume their inquiries around town, aided by the news release that would appear in the morning's paper. Although no information about Sean's whereabouts came in overnight, by the time the sun came up, every available police officer in the Noosa district was assigned to be on the lookout for Sean Kingi. As news of Sean Kingi's disappearance spread throughout the local community, leads started trickling in. Some witnesses reported seeing Sean in Pineroo Park on the day of her disappearance, but had not noted her as being in danger. A couple of people also reported having seen cars in a parking bay at the edge of the

reserve around the time Sean went missing, one of which was described as a white, dust-covered station wagon. Members of the community reported every single detail they thought may help, no matter how minor. Every flasher, loiterer, pickpocket, drug dealer, and suspicious-looking stranger were hauled into the police station for questioning. However, nothing discussed led to Sean's whereabouts. The people of Noosa and the surrounding Sunshine Coast District banded together like they never had before, united in the quest to find young Sean Kingi as fears for her safety grew. The community gave an outpouring of support to the girl's concerned parents, while Detective Sergeant Atkinson took the Kingi family under his wing,

personally ensuring they were kept in the loop every step of the investigation. On Sunday, November 29, Sean's friends celebrated the birthday of a classmate at Noosa National Park. Sean had been looking forward to the party all week, the fabric she had carefully selected for her party skirt sitting untouched at home. Sean had been missing for two days, and hope remained high that the 12-year-old would suddenly reappear and attend the party. But that hope was soon shattered when Sean was a no-show. With no sign of Sean emerging, the Noosa Police Department put in a call to the Brisbane Homicide Squad and requested for as many detectives as they could spare to make the 140-kilometer trip up the coast. Although there was no evidence to suggest Sean

had been killed, a dozen homicide detectives converged on the Noosa township to offer their assistance in the search. A command center was set up in Noosa's Criminal Investigation Branch, and it was manned around the clock. In an attempt to jog memories, a mannequin dressed in Sean's blue and white striped school dress was put on display in Pinaroo Park, near the location she was last seen. By Sunday evening, Sean's disappearance was headlining every local news bulletin, resulting in a flood of leads to Noosa Police. Many of these reports led nowhere. They were observations or incidents unrelated to Sean's disappearance, the product of overactive imaginations, or created purely for attention. Unsubstantiated sightings were abundant, placing Sean near

the local bowls club, tennis courts, surf club, and even hitchhiking northbound. Investigations were stifled from clairvoyance who insisted on having their visions taken seriously, and mentally unwell people who confessed to the crime, but could provide no further information than what was in the papers. A total of 700 leads were investigated, most taking the investigation nowhere. However, there was one detail that kept coming up in various reports. Witness sightings of a white station wagon without a state license plates in the vicinity of Pinaroo Park at the time Sean vanished. The description of this station wagon differed in each statement. Some witnesses claimed the vehicle had curtains, yet others were certain

they could see inside, and it may or may not have had mag wheels or roof racks. But despite these conflicting specifics, the vehicle was consistently described as a dusty, white station wagon, likely a Holden Kingswood model that was several years old. Witnesses who had caught a glimpse of the vehicle's occupants provided a description of a man with a surfy-like appearance who was in the company of a plump woman. None had seen a little girl. Police urged everyone in the Sunshine Coast District who had a vehicle that so much as vaguely matched the witness descriptions of the white station wagon to come forward,

so their car could be eliminated from the investigation. Every white station wagon that ventured onto Queensland roads was pulled over, many several times a day. The drivers aggressively questioned about their whereabouts the previous Friday evening. To save time, police issued drivers who were cleared of any suspicion with a card that they could flash should they be pulled over again, as proof that they had been given the all clear. The search for the vehicle of interest in the Sharn Kingi missing person investigation was no small feat. Holden Kingswood station wagons were an exceedingly common type of car, with 17,000 of them registered in Queensland alone, 10,000 of which were white.

Having worked the night before and subsequently slept for most of the following day, 31-year-old bartender Elizabeth Young had missed the escalating drama regarding the disappearance of Sharn Kingi. When she was finally made aware of the news, Elizabeth couldn't believe what she was hearing. Elizabeth knew Linda Kingi as the two had worked together at the Mango Tree Cafe a few years earlier. Sharn and her younger brother used to visit the cafe after school, enjoying milkshakes while they waited for their mother to finish her shift. When police appealed for information regarding a dusty white station wagon, Elizabeth's mind immediately returned to Castaway's beach on the afternoon of Friday, November 27, the day Sharn vanished.

Elizabeth and her companion Bill Wallace witnessed a dishevelled man behaving suspiciously along the shoreline before driving off from the beach car park in a dusty white station wagon at around 3pm. Elizabeth and Bill tailed the vehicle to Noosa Junction, where they lost sight of it driving towards Pinaroo Park. After hearing about Sharn Kingi's disappearance, Elizabeth reported this information to police and investigators subsequently reached out to Bill Wallace for further information. Bill's description of both the man and the station wagon matched perfectly with the information police had already obtained from Elizabeth and other witnesses,

but he also had one additional detail that nobody else had reported. Whilst in the Castaway's beach parking lot, Bill had scrawled the station wagon's license plate number on a scrap of note paper, securing it in a clip that was attached to his dashboard. The note read LLE 429. Police ran this license plate number through Queensland's vehicle database, but it didn't return a match, nor did it match any registrations in the neighbouring state of New South Wales. When they plugged the number into the database of the state of Victoria, located over 1500 kilometres south of Noosa, it finally returned a hit. A white 1973 Holden Kingswood station wagon with the license plate number of LLE 429

was registered to a Victorian woman, 44-year-old Valmene Fay Beck. The name meant nothing to Noosa police investigating the disappearance of Sharn Kingi, so they contacted Victoria police and asked the regional detectives there to check out Valmene Beck's address and determine why her vehicle was recently spotted in their sleepy coastal township, two states away. Victoria police detectives headed to the suburb of Meruilbark, around 35 kilometres east of Melbourne, to pay a visit to the address where Valmene Beck's station wagon was registered. Valmene Beck was not at the house, it was occupied by an elderly man who informed detectives that Valmene was the wife of his adopted son, Barry

John Watts. Beck and Watts had recently visited Melbourne from Western Australia, making the 3400 kilometre trip to the opposite side of the country in a small sedan. Whilst in Melbourne, Valmene Beck traded their sedan for a white 1973 Holden Kingswood station wagon, using her name along with her father-in-law's address on the registration documents. Not long after, Valmene Beck and Barry Watts departed for a trip up north in the station wagon, their current whereabouts unknown. Police ran a background check for both Valmene Beck and Barry Watts, discovering the couple were convicted criminals. Barry Watts had served prison time for various

offences, including armed robbery and burglary. He was associated with another known criminal by the name of Valmene Forte, which investigators deduced was the previous name of Valmene Beck. She had convictions for theft, false pretenses, indecent behaviour, obscene language, forgery, and vagrancy. The criminal couple were listed as persons of interest in the Sean Kingey investigation, although a connection to the 12-year-old's disappearance wasn't immediately clear. Newster investigators arranged to have photographs of Beck and Watts sent to them by Express Mail to initiate a search for the pair. Wednesday, December 2 marked the fifth day of Sean Kingey's disappearance.

That evening, 18-year-old Neil Clark was walking home from his fruit-picking job through Timbierre Mountain State Forest, located 17 kilometres south of Newster. As he trekked along the edge of the overgrown forest of eucalyptus trees and rainforest ferns, Neil was struck by a foul stench. He decided that if the odor was still there the next morning, he would have a look around to investigate its source. At 8.50am the following morning of Thursday, December 3, Neil Clark drove his car to the area of forest where he had picked up the offensive odor the previous day. The smell was still lingering in the crisp mountain air, so Neil followed the scent, stepping off the track and venturing a short way into the forest towards Castaway's creek.

Emerging from the shrubbery, Neil's attention was drawn to the bushes by the shallow creek, where he caught sight of the body of a young girl, her blue and white striped dress in disarray. Horrified, Neil stumbled back to his car, drove straight home, and called the police. Detective Sergeant Bob Atkinson was in the Noosa-based command centre, overseeing the Shang Kingi disappearance when the call from Neil Clark was placed through to him a little after 9am. Upon hearing what the young man on the other end of the phone had to say, Atkinson and Brisbane Homicide Squad Detective Senior Sergeant Bob Dallow drove straight to Timbierra Mountain State Forest. Following the directions given by Neil Clark,

they entered the woodland, veered off the path, and headed in the direction of Castaway's creek. There, resting near the creek bank amongst the lush ferns and shady trees, was the body of 12-year-old Shang Kingi. When Shang Kingi's body was found, the 12-year-old was still dressed in her Sunshine Beach school dress, pink socks, and white sneakers. Her cut-up underwear was found nearby, and her green school backpack was located in a bush 10 metres away. A small clearing near the creek appeared recently disturbed. Her section of the grass was crushed flat in a square shape, indicating something had recently happened there.

Shang had been sexually assaulted, strangled, and at the end of her ordeal, stabbed 12 times, with two deep cuts across her throat. Sombra detectives at the crime scene thoroughly examined the area, their eyes damp with tears. There was no sign of the murder weapon, nor any other evidence to answer two of the most significant questions, who and why. Despite all hope and efforts to find Shang Kingi before she had come to any harm, her missing person case had now shifted into a homicide investigation. Although devastated at the outcome, Linda Kingi said she was grateful that her daughter's body was found. Quote, We know she is at rest, and nobody can hurt her anymore.

The Kingi's remained stoic and dignified, holding themselves together for the sake of their younger child, Shang's little brother. They expressed gratitude for the ongoing hard work of police and media, and on some evenings brought dinner for the overworked detectives who were tirelessly searching for their daughter's killer. Five days after Shang was found, her family and friends gathered for a memorial service to celebrate the short, though impactful life of the popular, kind-hearted preteen. In acknowledgement of her New Zealand heritage, Shang was given a traditional Maori farewell, woven with elements from her Australian upbringing. The song Imagine by John Lennon played, the lyrics encouraging mourners to envision the world as unified in peace and harmony.

Shang was often regarded for her pixie-like personality and appearance, with her girlish looks, free spirit, and wide, endearing smile. One of Shang's school friends read a piece from the fable Peter Pan, in which the forever young character of Peter explains where fairies originated from. When the first child laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces and went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies. Detective Sergeant Bob Atkinson and senior members of the Homicide Squad took a brief break from their hunt to find Shang's killer to attend the young girl's service and pay their respects. Upon the discovery of Shang King's body, Nusa Detective soon received the photographs of their

two persons of interest, Barry Watts and Valme Beck. The owners of a white 1973 Holden Kingswood station wagon, witnessed in the vicinity of Pinaroo Park at the time Shang was last seen alive. The pictures depicted a 33-year-old Barry John Watts, a slim, short-statured man of tanned complexion, with tattoos inked down his forearms and biceps, as well as his wife, 43-year-old Valme Faye Beck, a matronly woman with pasty pale skin and short, wiry hair. The photographs were accompanied by a note explaining that the couple had outstanding warrants after skipping bail in Western Australia. Barry Watts had failed to appear in court on an armed robbery charge, and Valme Beck was wanted for a string of burglaries and obtaining money

under false pretenses. Investigators for the Shang King homicide investigation put out a bulletin describing Watts, Beck and their station wagon to every police station throughout Queensland. On Tuesday, December 8, off-duty Detective Constable Graham Hall decided to make an impromptu visit to his office at the Ipswich Criminal Investigation Branch. He noticed the bulletin from Nusa police informing officers to be on the lookout for Barry Watts and Valme Beck, wanted for questioning in relation to the murder of Shang King. When Hall read the description of the wanted couple's white 1973 Holden Kingswood station wagon and saw its license plate number, LLE-429, his body tensed. The number only differed by a letter

and digit from those supplied to him by Cheryl Mortimer and Nicole Close. They were two of three young, local Ipswich women who had been the targets of botched abduction attempts in early November by an unknown man driving a white station wagon. Detective Constable Hall and his colleagues had taken every effort to search for the alleged abductor at the time of these attacks. Unfortunately, the victims had misread the perpetrator's license plate. But similarities between their recollections of the plate, suggested they were close to identifying the correct number. Police searched countless combinations of those digits and letters in databases,

their search failing to find a registration associated with a Holden Kingswood station wagon. With the realisation the Ipswich attacker may have been the same person who targeted Shang King in Nusa weeks later, Detective Constable Hall was overcome with guilt. Had they successfully traced the plate in early November and tracked down its owner, Shang King might have made the short bike ride home that Friday afternoon. Hall immediately phoned detectives in Nusa to notify them of the link. He then requested Cheryl Mortimer, Nicole Close and the other nurse who had a close encounter with the unidentified man in Ipswich to urgently come to the station for further questioning.

All three of the women were presented with a line-up of photos and asked to point out the man who had confronted them. Each one identified Barry Watts as their assailant and in the case of Cheryl Mortimer, who was attacked by both a man and a woman, she pointed out Watts accomplice as Valme Beck. The bloody fingerprint left by the perpetrator on Cheryl's car window was a match to Prince in Barry Watts' criminal record. It was clear Barry Watts, with the assistance of his wife Valme Beck, had attempted to abduct the Ipswich women. Furthermore, the couple's vehicle was witnessed in the vicinity of Piniru Park at the time 12-year-old Shang King was last seen alive.

Police were certain they were hot on the heels of Shang's killers. They put out an Australian-wide bulletin requesting police officers in every state be on the lookout for Barry Watts, Valme Beck and their vehicle. At 4pm, the bulletin reached the local police station in the small, inland Queensland town of Lowood, located on the Brisbane River, 200 kilometres south of Noosa. Constable John Stare had finished up his shift and was almost out the door when he was alerted to the announcement that police in Noosa were searching for a white Holden Kingswood station wagon with Victorian license plates. Constable Stare had spotted a vehicle just like it

whilst patrolling the town during the week. In a small country town like Lowood, seeing an out-of-state vehicle was unusual enough that Stare had made a mental note of the first half of the station wagon's license plate, LLE. He immediately made a call to Noosa police to let them know what he had seen. On Wednesday, December 9, Detective Constable Graham Hall of the Ipswich Criminal Investigation Branch and a team of detectives from Noosa descended on Lowood. On the lookout for the most wanted vehicle in Australia. A quick drive through the small town of only 3,000 people quickly determined the white station wagon was not on the street or parked in public site. The detectives began methodically combing

the town on foot, showing every business owner and a local resident pictures of the car and its owners in the hopes someone recognised the couple. On the following evening, Thursday, December 10, telephone service employee Colin Harme was having a drink at his favourite pub in Lowood when the barman brought up the topic of the wanted couple and the ongoing search for their vehicle. The conversation sparked Colin's memory. He had recently seen a white Holden Kingswood station wagon with Victorian license plates parked in the yard of a house in Lowood while he was working up a telephone pole. He had taken special note of the car as he had been thinking of buying a similar model and remembered exactly which house it was out in front of. The next morning,

Colin Harme led police to an A-frame house on an acre block. The white station wagon was no longer parked in the yard and nobody appeared to be home. Police door knocked nearby houses and questioned neighbours who all had vivid recollections of the vehicle due to the frequency with which the man of the house washed it. They also mentioned the same man had been making questionable approaches towards passing school girls. When presented with a book of mug shots, the neighbours identified both Barry Watts and Valme Beck as living at the property. A local real estate agency confirmed that Barry Watts and Valme Beck's names were on the lease of the Lowood property and police obtained a search warrant for the house. When they entered the residence, no one was inside. Police found

empty packets of hair dye in the rubbish bin and evidence indicating that the couple had left in a hurry. A rolled up newspaper on the kitchen floor was dated the previous Friday, December 4th. Police had missed the fugitives by a week. No evidence was found in the house to reveal the couple's current whereabouts. Detective Constable Graham Hall asked the Lowood real estate agency if they could provide any further information that might help locate Watts and Beck. He was in luck. A rent payment had just come in from the pair via a money order. It had arrived from the entrance, a holiday resort town on the New South Wales coast, over 800 kilometres away from Lowood. Detective Constable Hall relayed his

findings to Noosa Detective Sergeant Bob Atkinson with mounting excitement. They now had proof of Watts and Beck's whereabouts as recently as the previous day. Police in New South Wales were notified and acted swiftly, sending 10 plainclothes police officers into the small seaside town of the entrance to search for the wanted couple. They were advised to act with caution as they didn't want to alert the couple and give them any opportunity to flee. Police were also warned that Barry Watts was known to carry a firearm and may not surrender lightly. Within hours of descending on the entrance, an undercover officer spotted a white 1973 Holden Kingswood station wagon leaving a supermarket car park. Its Victorian license plates read LLE 429. Realising he had

spotted Barry Watts and Valme Beck's car, the undercover officer discreetly tailed the vehicle down the entrance road until it pulled into a cheap motel on a busy intersection. The officer parked across the street and put in a call to the Noosa command centre, advising that he had the suspect vehicle under surveillance. Detective Sergeant Bob Atkinson, who had been fronting the investigation from the day her parents reported her missing, was on the next plane to Sydney to be present for the arrest of the 12-year-old's killers. At 5pm on Saturday December 12, nine days after Sean Kingey was found murdered, police circled the ground floor motel unit believed to be occupied by Barry Watts and Valme Beck. Using a master key supplied by the motel

manager, officers burst in on the room and confronted Watts and Beck inside. Fears of a potential shootout immediately subsided when the couple offered no resistance and were arrested without incident. Police brought the pair to the local police station, separated them and launched into interrogations. Barry Watts, seasoned career criminal, knew no good could ever come from talking to the police. He refused to provide his name and shook his head when asked whether the mugshot they had was a picture of him. Watts denied having ever been in Noosa, claiming to have just travelled up to Lowwood from Melbourne where the pair had lived for the past 10 years. It was an obvious lie as investigators were aware Watts and Beck had skipped a bail in Western Australia

and were on the run. Meanwhile, in a separate interrogation room, Valme Beck provided police with a story which placed the couple in Noosa on the day of Sean's murder. Beck claimed the couple spent the day of Friday November 27 drinking and arguing before she stormed off in anger. Barry Watts then drove to Noosa where he slept for a couple of hours before returning to pick up his wife and take her home to Lowwood. When the couple were reunited in the police station, they gave nothing away. Valme Beck sat on Barry Watts' lap and the two smoked cigarettes, kissed and chatted as if they didn't have a care in the world. As Beck was led away for further questioning, Watts told his wife to stick by him. She promised she would.

Valme Faye Beck was born in 1943 to a family dominated by a cold, unloving matriarch who would offload young Valme onto any relatives who would take her. Valme's three brothers ran wild and were not protective of their little sister. If no relatives were available to watch over Valme, she was left in the company of strangers, some of whom subjected her to sexual abuse. By the time she was 12 years old, Valme had been pulled out of school by her mother and sent to work in a clothing factory so she could pay her own way. Three years later, when Valme was 15, she was registered as a neglected child and committed to the care of the state. Between 1961 and 1972, Valme was in and out of prison on a variety of

offences. She changed her name periodically and drifted between menial jobs. Regarded as uneducated and unlikable, Valme Beck nevertheless married twice and gave birth to six children from at least two men. She harboured little to no maternal instincts. Her children were either taken away by authorities and made into wards of the state or put into the custody of their fathers and raised elsewhere. Valme spent much of her time in seedy bars run by staff who allowed her to keep drinking long after she should have been cut off. By 1983, she was a foul mouth drunk with children and a grandchild she very rarely saw, living in one of the down-and-out suburbs of Perth, Western Australia. It was in one of Perth's dingy pubs that Valme was introduced to Barry Watts, a man 10 years her

junior. Barry, an orphan, had an equally troubling childhood and was now making his way as a career criminal. The two bonded over stories of their time spent in prison. Valme told Barry about the time she befriended Catherine Burney, a fellow inmate in a Western Australian prison. Catherine Burney was incarcerated for the abduction, rape and murders of four women, crimes she committed with her husband David, covered in case 31 of case file. During their time incarcerated together, Catherine Burney allegedly told Valme Beck that having sex while murdering a female was the greatest thrill of all. Barry Watts listened to this story with great interest. Valme Beck and Barry Watts started a relationship, falling into a habit of alcoholic benders,

drinking in squalid dive bars until they were kicked out and to then carrying on in a local park until they passed out, only to wake up and do it all again the next day. It was assorted destructive relationship punctuated by verbal and physical abuse. Despite their toxic pairing, Valme was desperate to hang on to the one man who seemed willing to maintain a relationship with her. In 1986, the couple married in Perth when Valme was 43 and Barry was 33. Valme took the surname of Barry's adoptive father, Beck. Even when they had been able to find work despite their extensive criminal records, neither Valme Beck nor Barry Watts were able to hold down jobs for long.

Instead, they turned to crime and social security fraud to fund their drinking binges. Barry would break into cars to steal passbooks and Valme would practice copying the owner's signature until it was close enough that she could fraudulently withdraw money from the victim's bank account. By 1987, both Valme Beck and Barry Watts were out on bail on charges that would most certainly carry lengthy jail sentences given their criminal records. Perth had become too hot for them, so they fled to the other side of the country, laying low at Barry's adoptive father's house in Victoria. They eventually swapped their old sedan for a 1973 Holden Kingswood station wagon, a car that was big enough for the two to sleep in when they were on the road.

The couple knew it was only a matter of time before police came looking for them, so they headed north to the warmer tropical climate, with no plan on where they would stop. After a rambling trip that took them through New South Wales and over the Queensland border, the couple settled in the town of Lowood. The day after the couple's arrest, Detective Sergeant Bob Atkinson escorted Barry Watts and Valme Beck on a plane back to Queensland and put them into adjoining cells in the Noosa police station lockup. Unbeknownst to Watts or Beck, police had obtained a warrant to place covert electronic listening devices into their cells to monitor and record everything the couple said.

A conversation between the pair revealed that the story Valme Beck had told investigators about the pair's movements on Friday, November 27, was actually prefabricated and rehearsed. Despite having helped fabricate the story, Barry Watts expressed anger at his wife for telling police he was in Noosa, and thus placing him at the location of Sean Kingey's abduction at the time she went missing. Although they made some other cryptic references to their activities, the couple said nothing implicating them in Sean's murder. Detective Sergeant Atkinson believed he had a better chance of extracting information from Valme Beck rather than her stoic, tight-lipped husband. Thus, Atkinson began the mentally challenging task of befriending

Valme, despite feeling repulsed by the woman he strongly suspected was involved in Sean's murder. He told Beck about all the evidence they had compiled, building a damning case against her husband. He also told Beck he was sure she hadn't meant to cause Sean Kingey any harm. Valme continued to deny involvement in the crime, sticking to her original story about fighting with her husband and him retreating to Noosa for a few hours before returning to her. Yet, she added small details every time she was asked to retell her version of events. Detective Sergeant Atkinson lent Beck a patient sympathetic ear, latching on to her insecurities about her marriage and gently establishing a rapport with the woman.

Eventually, his efforts paid off, and as he anticipated, Valme Beck broke completely. She spoke for seven hours straight, stopping only to drink water, go to the toilet, or consume the chocolate the detective said she demanded they bring to her. By the time she had finished talking, Valme Beck's complete statement filled over 29 pages. According to Beck, her husband Barry Watts had a fixation for younger women, amassing a large collection of pornography that featured teenage girls or adult actresses posing as teens. Watts would compare his wife, whom he criticised for being overweight and old, to younger, prettier girls.

Whenever Beck bought that one of Watts' demands, he would threaten to leave her for someone younger and slimmer, feeding her deepest insecurities. She seethed with jealousy as she watched her husband obsess over young teens, but she also harboured a sense of voyeurism. During the couple's move from Victoria to Lowwood in Queensland, Barry Watts left his beloved pornography collection behind. To get his kicks, he would instead loiter outside and gawk at high school girls walking home in their uniforms.

Watts knew his wife felt increasingly threatened by his deviant desires, and had used her paranoia and low self-esteem as a form of control. He would threaten to leave her, just like her previous two husbands had, fuelling Beck's insecurities and ensuring she remained passive in their dysfunctional marriage. When it was clear he had established a hold over his wife, Watts told Beck about his fantasy of having sex with a young female virgin. When Beck complained about her husband's desire to be unfaithful, Watts told her there was one way she could ensure his fidelity to her forever.

Help him abduct a young virgin for one single act of sadistic pleasure, getting the desire out of his system once and for all. Beck agreed to do as her husband asked, even when he indicated that their chosen victim would not survive the ordeal, telling his wife, quote, I will be the first and last man she ever has. When fueled by alcohol-induced courage, Watts made his wife drive out into distant neighborhoods to help him look for vulnerable young women.

Val made Beck confess to investigators that she had assisted her husband in his failed attempts to kidnap Cheryl Mortimer, Nicole Close, and the other female nursing hip switch in early November. On Friday, November 27, 1987, Barry Watts told Val made Beck, Today is the day. After drinking heavily, the couple traveled to the coastal town of Noosa over 200 kilometers away from their home in Lowwood. Certain the warm day would attract an abundance of young girls to the local beaches.

They began trawling Noosa's streets and shores, but the women they spotted were either too old for Watts or not alone. Frustrated, Watts started arguing with his wife and drove off on his own, leaving her behind. Unable to give up on his evil plan, Watts continued the search for his victim, Solo, trudging the sand dunes along Castaway's beach. But he soon realized it would be far easier for him to abduct his victim with his wife's assistance, as young girls would be more likely to trust and approach a motherly middle-aged woman.

When Watts reappeared to pick up Beck, she was grateful, forever paranoid that at any moment he would make a good on his threat and leave her forever. By dusk, the couple still hadn't found their eyes. The couple still hadn't found their ideal victim. Beck tried to reassure her increasingly incensed husband that his fantasy would be fulfilled, suggesting they get out of the car to stretch their legs on a walk around Piniru Park. There, Beck spotted a tall, blonde-haired girl wearing a school uniform, peddling towards them on a yellow bike.

Urging Watts to duck from sight, Beck plastered a look of concern on her face as the girl rode closer, and motioned at her to stop. Sensing no danger, Sean Kingey clutched the brakes on her bike and came to a stop before Valme Beck. Feigning concern, Beck made up a fictitious story that she had lost her dog in the park, a little poodle with a cute pink bow, asking Sean for assistance finding it. Sean dismounted her bike immediately, laying it on the edge of the path. Beck pointed in the direction her fictional poodle had gone,

and Sean peered into the thick bushes to see if she could spot the lost pup. Barry Watts then sprang from the bushes, grabbing Sean roughly from behind. He bundled her into the back seat of his station wagon, holding her down and out of sight. He bound her wrists and ankles with rope, and covered her mouth with brown duct tape. Beck jumped in the front seat and took the wheel. Watts made no attempt to cover Sean's eyes or disguise his own face, confident the girl would never be able to report his crime. They drove about 15km inland before turning down a secluded road leading through Timbira

Mountain State Forest, stopping the car about 2km into the dense woodlands. Barry Watts pulled out a large bedspread from the back of the station wagon, and laid it out in a small, grassy clearing by Castaway's Creek. He told his wife to be careful getting Sean out of the car and removing the ropes and tape, so as not to leave any marks on her body or disturb her long blonde hair. In a soothing voice, Valmer Beck coaxed Sean to obey, reassuring her that if she did as she was told, she wouldn't get hurt. After untying her, Beck led Sean to the bedspread,

which was illuminated by the station wagon headlights. The area Watts had chosen to commit his crime was well traversed, meaning anyone passing through the forest could have easily spotted the headlights and stumbled across them. A busy highway was just 45m away, followed by a gas station a little further along. But trees obscured their view, and nobody saw or heard a thing. Around an hour later, Barry Watts ordered Sean to get dressed and lie face down, instructing his wife to fetch him a belt from the car. Valmer Beck brought him a belt as requested, but asked,

can't we just leave her and go? Watts replied, don't be so fucking stupid, I can't trust her not to give me up. It was around 7pm when Barry Watts dragged Sean's lifeless body a few meters off the creep bank and into nearby brush. Meanwhile, Valmer Beck wrapped up the knife, duct tape, rope and belt in the bedspread, placing the items in the station wagon. She then concealed Sean's personal belongings in the surrounding area, before the couple climbed back into their car and drove away. On their way back home, they pulled over briefly to throw the bedspread and its contents into

Six Mile Creek, located between Tawanton and Coroy. They stopped again in Brisbane to purchase milk and cat food, arriving back at their property in Lowwood at around 10pm. Valmer Beck put their dirty clothes in the washing machine and started to cry. Barry Watts comforted her, telling her not to be upset and complimenting her for doing a great job and being a good wife. They then had sex for the first time in a long while. Although Valmer Beck and Barry Watts were confident they hadn't been seen during the attack on Sean Kingey, they went to great lengths to avoid detection. Beck cut her husband's sun bleached hair short and dyed it brown, then bleached her own hair. They changed their

clothing style so they wouldn't match any descriptions provided by potential witnesses and washed their car thoroughly inside and out to remove any evidence. Watts continued to reassure Beck that he didn't feel bad about the crime and neither should she. As the week wore on, Sean Kingey's disappearance remained a mystery to police and the killer couple started to relax. It wasn't until they heard news that Sean's body had been found and police were interested in speaking to the owner of a white station wagon that the pair became spooked. Watts and Beck hastily packed suitcases, got in their car and left Lowwood. They headed interstate towards Victoria, where they figured they would be able to

sell their car quickly for cash to avoid being caught. Knowing they needed to keep the station wagon off the highways while police were actively searching for it, the pair took long rural routes. After they passed over the border into New South Wales, they settled into a motel in the scenic seaside town of the entrance, about 100km north of Sydney. Together, they devised a story to tell police should they ever be questioned in relation to Sean's murder. Watts urged his wife to never confess, nor believe any story that he had confessed unless she heard it with her own ears. The rent on the couple's Lowwood property was due, and they planned to eventually return to the house once the public interest in Sean Kingey's

murder faded and became another forgotten cold case. Not wanting the hassle of a real estate agent knocking on the door of their Lowwood house looking for rent and perhaps raising questions about the couple's unexplained absence, Watts and Beck sent a money order through to cover the payment, inadvertently creating a paper trail that led police right to them. After Valne Beck's confession for the abduction, rape and murder of Sean Kingey, she was returned to her cell. The covert listening devices recorded her telling her husband that she had made a confession. She said, quote, the only thing I didn't put in the statement was what happened between her and me. I just couldn't tell them that. Barry Watts responded,

that's quite understandable. I'm glad you didn't. Police searched Six Mile Creek and recovered the discarded knife, duct tape, rope, belt and bedspread used in the crime. The tape still contained strands of Sean's distinctive golden hair. Investigators showed Barry Watts his wife's lengthy and incredibly detailed statement that implicated them both in Sean Kingey's murder. And although he was taken aback, he remained tight lipped. He barked at investigators, quote, you might know what happened, but you've got to prove it. When he was returned to his cell, Watts couldn't stop himself from flying off the handle at Beck for her betrayal. As soon as they were left alone, he grew out at her through

the wall, unaware of everything he said was being recorded. Watts, quote, you hung me, good on you, top wife. If you hadn't betrayed me, we could have got away with it. Beck, no jury in the land would have found us innocent. You know it, and I know it. Watts, no one saw us pick her up and throw her in the car. No one seen her in the car. No one seen us kill her. If you hadn't confessed, they didn't have a case. Over the following 20 hours, the two continued to incriminate themselves further. Valme Beck tried to convince her husband to plead insanity, telling him, quote, if you just listen to me, you will get out of it. I won't, but you will. I can't plead insanity, but you can. You're off your tap. Going out and raping somebody is one thing,

but to kill somebody in cold blood and not have any compassion at all. That worried me. It's been worrying me for weeks since it happened. Because you told me it wouldn't bother you, but I thought it would. Watts responded coldly. I'd like to do it again. You wanted to as well. You wanted to do it again. The couple began planning a suicide pact scheduled to be carried out the following week on the one year anniversary of their marriage. On December 15, 1987, the day before what would have been chance 13th birthday, Barry Watts and Valme Beck were formally charged with her abduction, rape, and murder.

The two were sent to separate prisons to await their trials, where they were put among the general population. Barry Watts did not have an easy time in prison. Due to the fact his crimes involved a child, he was targeted by other inmates. As the date of his wedding anniversary approached, a correctional officer at the Brisbane prison complex found Watts crying in his cell, claiming that he was sick of being hassled for Sean Kingey's murder. When the officer pointed out he had to expect some harassment for that sort of crime, Watts denied killing Sean, admitting only to having sexually assaulted her. When the officer then asked who had killed Sean, Barry Watts replied, she did. Valme Beck.

The killer couple's December wedding anniversary came and went, and neither Barry Watts nor Valme Beck upheld their side of their suicide pact. The pair didn't see each other again until April the following year, when they arrived at the Noosa Heads Magistrates Court for their committal hearing. There, they were greeted by a noose hanging from the court clock tower, and hundreds of people with placards who had gathered to scream abuse at them. When the detectives who had led the tireless investigation arrived to the courthouse, the mood of the crowd suddenly changed. Someone called out for three cheers, as enthusiastic applause erupted. It was a moment of great pride for the officers, many of whom were used to the

public's contempt and disapproval in an era marred by police corruption. When the committal hearings commenced, Valme Beck pleaded guilty to Sean Kingey's abduction and rape, but not guilty to her murder. Her husband Barry Watts pleaded not guilty on all charges. As the pair had turned on one another and were now accusing the other for Sean Kingey's murder, they were committed to stand trial separately. Valme Beck's trial came first, beginning in October 1988. Beck's written confession took 90 minutes for the prosecution to read out in full, detailing every lurid detail. Later, Beck told the shocked and sickened court that Sean, quote, never cried, never shed a tear. A brave little girl. She never uttered a peep. She just did everything,

he told her. Beck painted herself as a passive observer and unwilling participant to the crime, motivated by a man she loved and was afraid to lose. She told the court, I didn't feel I had the qualities to hold a man, and I was terrified Barry was going to leave me for a younger woman. However, the prosecution then presented the court with the audio collected from the covert listening devices placed in the accused's cells shortly after their arrest. During one recording, Beck told her husband that she had left out of her confession, quote, what happened between her and me? This indicated Beck was a far more active participant in the attack on Sean Kingey than she was willing to admit.

Barry Watts never made his own official statement to police, so there was nothing to contradict Valme Beck's version of events. At the conclusion of her trial, the jury took just three hours to find her guilty of Sean Kingey's murder, believing she was an active and willing participant. On October 20, 1988, Queensland Supreme Court Justice Kelly called Valme Beck callous and depraved, before sentencing her to three years imprisonment for the abduction, 10 years for the rape, and life for the murder of Sean Kingey. Valme Beck quickly became the most hated woman in Australia and was targeted by other inmates, many of whom had children of their own and couldn't understand how a mother of six could do

something so depraved to an innocent child for the sake of a man. Urine and feces were thrown at Beck regularly and spread out around her prison cell, and she was subject to frequent violent attacks, sometimes to the point of unconsciousness. After being seriously injured by a blow to the head from a tin can in a sock, Beck was transferred to another correctional centre in Townsville for her own safety. Barry Watts stood trial for the abduction, rape and murder of Sean Kingey a year after his wife, still maintaining his innocence on all charges. As Watts had made no admissions, the prosecution relied heavily on the covert recordings of his conversations with Valme Beck following their arrest. The recordings were

corroborated by Beck herself, who had since divorced her husband and agreed to testify against him. Elizabeth Young, the woman who had witnessed Barry Watts behaving suspiciously on Castaway's beach shortly before he abducted and murdered Sean Kingey, testified at his trial. She said she wanted to look Watts straight in the eye and have him, quote, go to bed every single night thinking there is a woman out there who put him behind bars. Although Elizabeth provided investigators with the breakthrough needed to identify Sean's killers, she struggled with the guilt of not reporting Watts before he had the opportunity to harm Sean. Quote, my big regret is that I didn't do something on the first day, but it's like

trying to prevent a car accident before it happens. Nothing I did was ever going to bring her back, but I stopped him from doing it to anyone else. Barry Watts' trial lasted eight days. On February 8, 1990, after six hours of deliberations, a jury found him guilty of Sean Kingey's abduction, rape, and murder. He was sentenced to three years, 15 years, and a life, respectively. Upon sentencing, Queensland Supreme Court Justice Kelly remarked, quote, the vulgar crime shows you to be an evil man void of any sense of morality. Justice Kelly told the court the circumstances of Sean Kingey's murder were so abhorrent that Barry Watts' file should be marked, never to be released. While he was in prison, Barry Watts

boasted to other inmates about the murder of not only Sean Kingey, but of another young woman as well. To determine the validity of these claims, an undercover police officer was planted in Barry Watts' cell in an attempt to coax information from the convicted killer. Meanwhile, investigators combed through missing person and unsolved murder cases, hoping to find a connection to Barry Watts. One case that stood out to investigators was the disappearance of 31-year-old Queensland mother, Helen Mary Feeney. Helen was a petite woman with light, sandy hair, who had vanished at 6.30pm on October 29, 1987, mere weeks before Sean Kingey's murder. Helen Feeney was studying to be a teacher at a college in North Brisbane. Her white, holding Gemini sedan was found abandoned

in the college's parking lot. The driver's side windows smashed. No sign of Helen had since been found, and she was presumed murdered. The timing of Helen's disappearance coincided with the beginning of Barry Watts and Valmay Beck's crime spree. Less than two weeks after Helen vanished, Watts and Beck attempted to abduct three women in Ipswich, located just 40km away from Helen's college. Investigators pressed Watts for information about Helen Feeney, saying they wanted to pronounce her dead and locate her remains to provide closure for her family. But the convicted killer denied having anything to do with the mother's disappearance. Once again, Valmay Beck implicated her ex-husband, telling investigators that

Watts killed the young mother during a bungled car break in. According to Beck, they parked a couple of spaces away from a small, white car, and she acted as a lookout for Watts as he broke into the vehicle. Beck heard the sound of glass smashing, and shortly thereafter, Watts placed something wrapped in a red dune into the rear of their station wagon. Beck claimed she did not see a body, but, quote, vaguely saw what looked like somebody's sandy coloured hair. Beck claimed Watts told her that Helen had disturbed him breaking into the car, and she was now dead. Beck said Watts dumped the red dune and its contents at the Lowood rubbish tip and watched it burn.

Based on further information provided by Beck, police believed Helen's remains may have been relocated and buried at a different location, somewhere between Lowood and Wyvernhoe Dam. The subsequent searches of these areas resulted in no discoveries. Barry Watts was put on trial for Helen Feeney's murder in 1995, but no evidence could be found to corroborate Velmae Beck's assertions that her former husband was responsible for the crime. Barry Watts continued to deny any involvement in Helen's disappearance, and the inmates Watts allegedly confessed to were uncooperative in court. Information gathered by the undercover police officer who shared a cell with Watts was not permitted into evidence.

That officer suffered a nervous breakdown and resigned from the police force, attributing his collapse partly to the horror of working on the case. The lack of compelling evidence saw a body, coupled with unreliable testimony from Velmae Beck, resulted in Barry Watts being acquitted of Helen Mae Feeney's murder. Her case remains unsolved to this day. In 1993, Velmae Beck fell in love with notorious serial rapist Robert John Fadden, after meeting him at an annual prison barbecue put on for lifers. Their relationship lasted several years, and by 1998, Fadden wanted to become Beck's fourth husband, going so far as asking a pastor if he could purchase an engagement ring through mail order.

The couple were denied the opportunity to marry, and Fadden was relocated to a different prison. Their relationship appeared to have stopped there. Velmae Beck later converted to Christianity, and cold case detectives periodically interviewed her about Helen Feeney and other unsolved cases, in the hopes that the convicted killers knew found religious beliefs would compel her to confess to other crimes. However, Beck offered no information. In 2003, Beck was in the newspapers again, this time for befriending controversial politician Pauline Hansen, who was serving time for electoral fraud. After her release, Pauline Hansen told Woman's Day magazine that she felt sorry for Beck, and the two had become close in

prison after they, quote, had a laugh and hit it off. Hansen described Beck as a very nice lady who she was glad to have met, adding that the convicted child rapist and killer had provided assistance, help, and friendship when Hansen needed it. The politician's remarks fueled public backlash and elicited a response from Sean Kingey's family, who had up until that point avoided speaking publicly about their daughter's murder. A spokesperson for the Kingey family called Pauline Hansen naive and condemned the politician's lack of clear judgment. After serving almost 20 years of her life sentence, Velmae Beck tried several times to get parole, but her request was denied each time. In May 2007, she told Townsville Correctional Center staff she had significant

information in relation to the disappearance of Helen Feeney, but subsequent questioning proved fruitless and led to no breakthroughs in the case. By 2008, Velmae Beck had a number of severe health problems. After being hospitalized for minor heart surgery in May that year, Beck's condition deteriorated and she was put into an induced coma. Detectives remained convinced that Beck knew more about other crimes than she ever admitted and held out hopes for a deathbed confession. There was heated debate about whether Beck, who had expressed the desire not to be resuscitated, should be kept alive for that reason. On May 27, 2008, 64-year-old Velmae Beck died in custody at Townsville Hospital from complications arising from heart surgery. Investigators never got their

deathbed confession. Any secrets Beck may have had died with her. Nusa Detective Sergeant Bob Atkinson, who had previously led the investigation into Shang Kingi's disappearance and murder, was later promoted to police commissioner. Atkinson said he was positive Shang Kingi was not the only victim of Barry Watts and the late Velmae Beck, telling reporters, quote, given the fact that Watts and Beck were so active, so ruthless, so organized, I find it difficult to believe that the only things they did were the ones we know about. Atkinson never forgot the case of Shang Kingi. Memories of the 1987 case flattered back in 2003, when the Sunshine Coast was shaken by the unexplained disappearance of

13-year-old Daniel Morgham. Just like he had done for the Kingi family, Atkinson promised the Morghams he would never let the police service give up on finding their child. The disappearance of Daniel Morgham is covered in Case 54 of case file. In 2009, 53-year-old Barry Watts sought parole, but he could only be considered if he took responsibility and expressed remorse for his crimes. This led to Watts finally breaking his 20-year silence about the murder of Shang Kingi. In an interview described by detectives as chilling, Watts made a full confession. His parole application was denied. Barry Watts remains in prison today. He has shown zero remorse for the murder of Shang Kingi

and has never confessed to any other crimes. Those involved with the case have vowed to do everything in their power to ensure that Watts will never be released. Former Sunshine Coast detective Alan Burke worked on many horrendous crimes over the years, but nothing made quite the same emotional impact as the Shang Kingi case. Quote, Anyone that was directly involved in that homicide was never the same again. It was horrific. Through that initial period, we found out Shang had a loving family. She was a lovely girl with a future in front of her. We were hoping she'd turn up,

and to see her murdered was absolutely shattering. Shang was a passionate netball player and loved hitting the courts with her team on the weekends. Her tall, slim frame towered over many of her smaller peers, making her quite the intimidating competitor. During the heat of a contest, Shang would sometimes accidentally knock other opponents over. When this happened, she would immediately stop playing mid-game to pick them up, give them a friendly brush down, and ask kindly, are you alright? The Kingi family have never spoken publicly about Shang's murder. Their focus has always remained on celebrating Shang's life, remembering her as their smiling, free-spirited daughter who

loved parties, riding her bike, netball, jazz ballet, and who would always stop whatever she was doing to pick others up when they needed it.