ANITA COBBY

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Continued from page 23
was dragged into the car, indecent acts followed.
She was told to strip. She refused. Her
clothes were ripped off. Money for petrol was
taken from her purse. The process of taking
everything started from her money to her life
itself. They obtained petrol with her money
and drove off as Anita was kept quiet, under
threat, on the back floor.
Since there was no phone call to pick her
up at the station, Anita’s parents thought their
daughter had decided to stay in the city with
friends.
Next day, after a nursing sister from
Sydney Hospital called to find out why Anita
hadn’t reported for work without a call being
sick, her father went to Blacktown Police Station.
He reported his daughter missing.
Out went a description. Aged 26, thin
build, 175cm tall, black wavy hair, hazel eyes
and a light olive complexion. Blacktown Police
had already received reports of a girl being
abducted into a car that night in the area of
Newton Road.
They were starting to put two and two
together. One of the most extensive Australian
manhunts was on. Time was of the essence.
When I heard about what happened to
Anita Cobby like many others, I found it hard
to believe. Not even a crime writer could have
thought of something like this.
Even after five years in the Ambulance Service,
10 years in Police Rescue and Detectives,
I thought I’d seen it all.
Was it possible that in Sydney in the 1980’s
a woman could be restrained, bashed, raped,
tortured, brutalized, have her throat slashed
so badly she was almost decapitated, have her
fingers broken and all this happen while she
was still alive?
Defense wounds from the sharp blade of
the knife on her hands and fingers proved that
she fought for her life to the bitter end.
As I looked at the crime scene I found
it hard to believe anything like the rape and
murder of Anita Cobby could happen. It was
a somewhat isolated place with dairy farming
and grazing land with eucalypt trees.
It also had long grass which helped to
hide the crime scene. There was blood, Anita’s
blood, on the blades of grass. It was not that
far from the Great Western Highway, a busy
motorway.
Yet far enough away so that no one heard a
cry for help as Anita fought for her life.
A herd of dairy cows first found her body.
They gathered around her almost like a curious
protective cordon when the dairy farmer,
Mr Reen, investigated and found her. He had
seen his cows in a circle facing inwards which
was unusual causing him to “sus it out’.
My thoughts turned to the police who
had to tell Anita’s family that a body had been
found and was believed to be Anita’s.
No longer a missing person but a found
person in the worst possible condition, dead.
The missing person investigation had regrettably
turned into a homicide investigation; a
family’s worst nightmare.
How would we tell them that all that’s left
of their beautiful missing daughter?
I remembered the many times when as a
police officer I’d had to knock on a door to tell
a family their loved one was not coming home.
I used to pray, swallow hard and take deep
breaths as I approached the front door.
Then I had to watch as I delivered the
terrible news to a stunned family. It was often
late at night or the early hours of the morning
when people were awakened from their sleep
and expected to comprehend what I was telling
them.
Often babies woken by people in the
lounge room added to the already hard job.
Then I watched as the terrible news was delivered
and began to sink into stunned minds.
Tenderly, with God’s help I comforted the
people and often prayed with them. I’d wait
for the reaction which was accompanied by
denial, disbelief, anger, bargaining with God
and shock.
It was like the family was hit by a freight
train they didn’t know was coming. Some
thought it was a practical joke or a prank.
Many said: “Come on Inspector you’re having
a lend of me”.
Some would walk out of their door, look
around for their loved one thinking they were
hiding and would jump from behind the
bushes as a surprise.
Although, sometimes with drug users or
crazy drivers the family would say to me: “We
knew one day this knock on the door would
come.”
That wasn’t the case with the Lynch or
Cobby family. Their knock on the door had
no forewarning although Anita’s father had an
inkling that something was wrong with Anita’s
unusual disappearance.
She was a very responsible person and
would never not come home or be absent
from work without notifying someone. The
shock still resonates whenever Anita’s name is
mentioned.
The sheer horror of what was to be revealed
to Anita’s parents is hard for us to even
start to imagine.
At the time of the murder, I was out of
Sydney on an investigation with Detective
Tony (Muddy) Waters. We were urgently
called back to Blacktown Police Station. Once
there we were briefed on the murder.
I was given the job to hit the streets go
gather information and get leads on possible
suspects for the murder. My task was to find
out as much as possible about individuals
who’d recently been released from gaol, mental
health units or juvenile institutions that
may have the Modus Operandi (MO) and be
capable of committing such a crime.
With other Detectives I was instructed to
leave no stone unturned to get information.
A vital lead on the case was out there on the
streets just waiting to be found.
Junkies, drug dealers, gang members, the
homeless, prostitutes and thieves were all to
“
The paddock had become
a torture chamber. Even
though I looked at the
photos forensically,
I couldn’t help but
contemplate what Anita
went through; those last
hours.”
be approached. A sense of urgency hovered
over us.
The killers were on the loose and they
could rape or kill again, especially if they knew
they’d get caught and spend a long time in
gaol.
They may use their short freedom to cram
in as much evil pleasure as possible. The other
detectives and I were afraid the offenders
might go on a frenzy feed of violence before
they were captured. A last perverted fling.
Like many others close to the investigation,
I saw them as monstrous criminals who
attacked a woman in an uncontrolled frenzied
outburst.
They’d acted like a pack of wild animals,
although wild animals have a reason to attack;
being food or self-defense. This pack didn’t
have that reason or any other reason except
their self-gratification. They must be caught,
and caught soon.
Looking back, there was fear throughout
Western Sydney. You could just about smell
the fear in the air around Blacktown. Fear the
crime might be repeated was front of people’s
minds.
The crime was taken so seriously many
stayed home, locked, barricaded their doors
and windows, especially single women or
those with children.
Continued on page 25
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Serving the community for over 50 years.
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24 WESTERN SYDNEY BUSINESS ACCESS JANUARY 2016