The investigation was carefully manipulated from the very beginning. It is most disturbing the ease with which these corrupt officials could negotiate around evidence that did not suit their agenda. They have obviously done it many times.

After the brawl was over the police swamped the hotel within minutes, which was highly unusual. Amongst the horde was an inspector, which had never, ever happened before. This has to have been due to police connections to the Narrabeen Sharks, which was established at trial. (T-426+361+269-270+634) The son and nephew of 2 very high ranking local officers was part of the group that went to the races before coming to the Surfrock. I should have clicked then that they were stitching me up while at the same time looking after their good mate, but I was concussed and very busy. We still had over 500 patrons to look after, and it was a typical Saturday night/Sunday morning, at a time when security were busiest; due to the social fabric disintegrating due to the late hour and effects of alcohol catching up. 2 lower ranked officers questioned me for about 15 minutes. I told them the whole story. Where the group attacked us, where Richard tried to subdue Bullock, where Bullock king hit me while I was wrestling with 2 of his cronies, where I nearly went over the railing, where the potplant smashed when the barman was rugby tackled down the stairs by Bullock, where the dirt spewed out of the potplant from Shane’s face/head cracking it open, (several witnesses-crown and defence, testified that Shane’s head hit the potplant near where Shane was brutally assaulting the barman), where I was being attacked during my rescue mission down the stairs by a large group of aggressive males, and where I unleashed my volley of punches to save the barman on the mezzanine.

The officers seemed more interested if other bouncers were involved. I explained I could only answer for myself as when you are confronted by multiple attackers coming at you from all angles, it’s every man for himself. I knew Richard was in trouble at one stage, which was why George and I were pulling people off him while he was struggling with Bullock, and I knew the barman was in trouble, because I saw him hurtling down the stairs under Bullock at some considerable velocity, followed by the elbows Bullock was trying to land on his bloodied face.

20 minutes later, an inspector came up to the top level and I had to recount the whole battle scene once again. When I was at the stairs showing him where I was king hit, he mentioned that I would have known that that was a black spot on the CCTV system. I shrugged and said so what, so was 80% of the hotel. Outside the hotel he continued his questioning and then mentioned that he wasn’t happy about the number of incidents that occurred in this establishment. I told him that he should try it from my perspective, and how I didn’t particularly enjoy being king hit and almost killed by going over the railing, and that this was only 1 of the 8 fights so far this evening, that another 4 at least would happen before the night was out, and that this was a normal night, in a normal week. I invited him to go and do a circuit and see what is was like. He came out 5 minutes later, pale, sweating, visibly shaken, and muttering “there were idiots everywhere, asking me where I could get pizzas or kebabs, bumping me, spilling their drinks on me and swearing”. He then jumped in his unmarked car and sped off towards precinct D.Y. at high speed, leaving the 2 doorman in fits of laughter.

At the end of the evening, the Barman came up to me, thanked me for saving him, and he said “don’t worry, I told the cops what happened”.-but then he mentioned that he did think it was odd that they did not write anything down.  (T-1042) In fact, they told him to walk away. I replied “I wasn’t worried, it was pretty clear to all and sundry what had happened”. However, I was a bit bemused as to why none of the internal guards had been questioned, but just assumed that the police had heard enough from me and the barman. The police did not write anything down when I was talking either. There had been over a dozen police and an inspector, so I was sure they had the resources for an adequate investigation. Little was I to know the ramifications of so many police.

On the Sunday, I got a call from the boss of the security company that I worked for  who was subcontracted by the Surfrock, saying that the police had rung Brian Adams (owner of the Surfrock) and himself, to inform them that Bullock had nearly died twice at the hospital and they did not think he would pull through and that I would be facing manslaughter charges. He also informed me that I had been sacked by Brian. I thought he was joking. I said “what are you talking about, the guy was trying to fight the doormen after he was ejected, he had to be held back”. My boss said the police would not have said it unless it was true. I immediately rang one of the Narrabeen Sharks whose life I saved some months before by pulling his head out of the way of a bus when he was paralytic; he was so thankful, he made me keep his number. When he answered, he said “crikey, you touched him up a bit”. I responded ‘P….., how many fights have you seen me break up without me having to belt them, I had no choice this morning, besides, I didn't do all that damage". He responded “yeah, you have always done the right thing, he is alright, he is sitting next to me having a beer.”

I rang back my boss and relayed the facts. He double checked by ringing the coach, whom he knew. I also asked him to ring Brian and tell him that if he wants to sack me, he does it to my face; that I had bled buckets for the place and without me, his hotel would have been destroyed, especially the “night of the Tongans”, when I ejected one of their warriors in the nick of time. If I had not seen what was coming, the 2 rival rugby teams would have torn the hotel to pieces, as it was, the factions that followed the warrior out fought for nearly half an hour; closing all 6 lanes of Pittwater road as the 30 plus men kicked and punched the crap out of each other; while the police looked on powerless.

I was reinstated immediately but little did I know that an annoyed Brian would jump into bed with this blatantly corrupt D.Y. licencing squad and their corrupt minders; not that it helped him much, the police brought in new “after midnight” restrictions and threatened to breach him if he did not fire all guards who were on duty that fateful night.

A few months after being charged, I sent Brian a folder containing all the evidence I had on the serpents nest. He immediately gave it to inspector Bell who had it on the table when he called me in for a “little chat”. (See “The Fightback" chapter). He thought Brian's betrayal would rattle me, but I wanted them to see the damage I was doing; it gave me satisfaction.