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Well f*ck me dead if I’m alive, if this isn’t the biggest balls-up so far this year I’m buggered if I know what is.

See that story at the top?

That’s the first ever story account given by ‘Diamond Jim’ O’Sullivan, the lead investigator in the Fitzgerald Inquiry. It’s published prominently in the Courier-Mail today, as part of a series the paper is running during the quiet Queensland extended holiday period commemorating the exposure of the ‘truth’ about police corruption in the state 30 years ago at the Fitzgerald Inquiry, which is rather humorous for reasons that I am about to explain.

First though let me tell you a little about Diamond Jim. He was the head cop in the secret squad of supposedly sensational detectives charged with investigating their own before and during the Fitzgerald Inquiry, the fella charged with uncovering corruption and given unprecedented resources to enable him to do so, the copper who was meant to be the fount of all knowledge when it came to crooks in corruption, the go to man on evidence and facts about crooks and crooked cops.

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Diamond Jim, the Commissioner turned chief racing copper who couldn’t tell a hindquarter from a half-ounce of heroin, or the blokes squeezing them

Later he became the Commissioner of Police, the man with the golden hand who would shepherd Queensland into a post-Fitzgerald future free of police corruption, a world where criminals weren’t protected by even greater criminals dressed in blue uniforms, and brown paper bags were used only by children to carry their lunches to school, not by corrupt publicans, bookies and property developers carrying slings in untraceable used banknotes to the offices of senior plods and politicians.

Oh yeah sportsfans, Diamond Jim – know the Pineapple Land’s Racing Integrity Commissioner, God help us all – was the man who was supposed to finally end The Joke, but instead by his own hand this morning O’Sullivan has become The Joke, and right now early-rising and reading Queenslanders are scratching their heads all across the State and wondering if all this time the Joke has actually been on us.

See that part of the story ringed in red above?

Allow me to let you in on a littlew not-so-secret: Hector ‘The Protector’ Hapeta (below) was never of Fine-Cotton fame as O’Sullivan so self-assuredly claims.

In fact Big Hec – who weighed in at over 130kg in his prime – wasn’t a racing man at all, and had absolutely no involvement in the famous 1984 ring-in at Eagle Farm racetrack.

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The drug-dealing, whore-bashing vice king Hector Hapeta, who was never seen at the racetrack

Nil, zip, nada. Not a single bit.

As much as it pains me to correct a copper punters – particularly a big chief plod copper – it’s my melancholy duty at all times as a journalist to school the public up on the truth wherever I can. So cop the exclusive tip readers and start running down to the newsagent to demand a refund on your copy of this morning’s Courier-Mail, for the former boss-dog copper turned author, and the soon to be former boss-dog sub-editor turned dole-queue conga-line member responsible for ensuring the accuracy of the words inked on tomorrow’s vege peel wrapper have, like the connections who posed Bold Personality as Fine Cotton all those years ago, led the punters astray.

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Put a collar on that man! Diamond Jim mistakes the honest copper standing outside the Eagle Farms stalls guarding Fine Cotton for Ivan Milat and orders his immediate arrest.

Sound the siren sportsfans – there’s been a ring in!

It wasn’t the harry horse dealing Hector Hapeta who was infamous for his involvement in the Fine Cotton crime. Oh no, it was a different overweight Kiwi with an alliterative name starting with H altogether, a bloke named Hayden Haitana (below), who had as much do with the sale of hammer as Hector the Protector had to do with the botched paint job on the substitute nag.

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The pot-smoking, pot swilling battling horse trainer Hayden Haitana, who was never seen away from the track, and who the Commissioner thinks is Hapeta. Identical twins aren’t they?

That is, none at bloody all.

Hector/Hayden.

Hapeta/Haitana.

It’s a simple mistake for a man to make isn’t it?

After all these bloody Maori’s all look and sound the same anyway, and if the copper in charge of cleaning up the Queensland Police force and the clown in charge of keeping the content clean at the Courier-Mail both mistake Mr Asia for Mickey Mouse’s Fantasia what’s the bloody harm in that? We’ll just arrest both the bastards and give both Mickey bail so he can skip the light fantastic, and hand the thousand tonne drug trafficking Terry Clark the name of the underlings who informed on him so that he can skip them into a shallow Victorian grave, just as Queensland’s finest did in return for a $250 000 way back when after they arrested Terry Clark in 1978 just up the hill from where that young psycho killed the Korean lass out here on study exchange a couple of years ago.

You’d have to be f*cking kidding wouldn’t you?

The lead investigator in the greatest corruption inquiry ever held in the Pineapple Land doesn’t even know the priors of one of the absolutely pivotal figures in the whole wicked web of corruption based around crooked coppers crimes.

WTF?

Is it any wonder that as lead investigator in Fitzgerald Diamond Jim couldn’t find the 2500 indexed files – many of them featuring prominent Queensland public figures and accompanied by R-rated photographs of the subject holding a naked kid’s dick – that Queensland’s most prolific pedophile Clarence Howard-Osborne (aka Clarrie Osborne) left behind when he topped himself after his nefarious activities were uncovered in 1979?

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Pervert Clarence Howard-Osborne – Diamond Jim probably thought he was Ozzie

Or that as Commissioner of Police he failed to initiate an inquiry into the silver medal winning kiddy-fiddler Kevin Lynch caught on a 1996 recorded police wire boasting that his mate the Assistant Commissioner of Police (presumably his neighbor Gregory Early, the criminal Commissioner Terry Lewis’s sidekick and these days the President of the Retired Police Association) could hook cases, fiddle with evidence, threaten witnesses and conduct fake police interviews, all in the name of protecting his (Lynch’s) pedophile activities?

Is it a surprise that the State’s leading newspaper – the self-same publication of which some editors of yore, along with others in their owner’s stable, have long been accused of actual involvement in the joke by accepting cash or favors (or in at least once case of being blackmailed by the threat of exposure of their questionable sexual kinks) in return for judiciously reporting on the events of the day, always in favor of the officers doing the giving or not giving, if you know what I mean – has failed to pick up or correct the glaring error that makes Diamond Jim look like an incompetent idiot and an absolute fool?

Of course it isn’t, in either regard.

After all, this is Queensland, and don’t you worry about that.

 

Lost for words, I can merely repeat those of Effie, a wog lassie who knows a Hector from a Hayden every day of the week:

“How embarrassment”.