The hitman who looked like an accountant

TWO decades ago, Gerald Preston walked into a Lonsdale garage, said three words and opened fire. It was a cold-blooded bikie assassination — and the violence didn’t end there.

In the dock: Preston with Kevin Wayne Gillard during the trial.

IT WAS a gamble — risk more than three decades of freedom for a $10,000 payday.

Gerald David Preston rolled the dice. And lost.

He looked an unlikely hitman when photographed in handcuffs wearing oversized glasses and a daggy patterned pullover. But looks can be deceiving. Preston was a hardened criminal with close links to bikie gangs and no sign of a conscience.

Entering into a $10,000 contract from a Hells Angels bikie in Melbourne, he was ordered to kill Lonsdale motor mechanic Les Knowles.

Knowles, 37, and his employee Timothy Richards, 28, paid the ultimate price.

Preston, then 38, and mate Kevin Wayne Gillard, then 34, walked into their workshop on August 15, 1996, and shot dead the two mechanics.

Disguised, Preston walked into the office carrying a Luger pistol and confronted Mr Knowles and Mr Richards.

He said to them, “Are you Les? Are you Les?”

Preston took one step backwards and asked again, “Are you Les?”.

They told the gunman they did not know who he was talking about.

But Preston raised the gun, shooting both men in the head — first Mr Knowles and then Mr Richards.

He then walked into the workshop, where he saw another worker, Kym Traeger. He again asked “Are you Les?” and fired a shot.

Mr Traeger ducked and only his wrist was grazed.

The pair then fled the scene, drove to a carpark one suburb over, removed the van’s numberplates and set the evidence ablaze.

WHAT followed was a massive police investigation which amassed hours of electronic bugs and telephone intercepts at Preston’s Christie Downs home.

Police soon had enough evidence to charge Preston with two counts of murder and one count of attempted murder.

About three months later, Preston’s partner Vivienne Leigh Pitts, then 41, and his father Peter Gerald Preston, then 65, were charged with impeding the murder investigation. All charges against them were later dropped.

In February 1997, investigators nabbed Preston’s accomplice, Mr Gillard — who had been hiding in Queensland — and charged him with two counts of murder and one of attempted murder.

He was extradited to South Australia and placed in custody alongside his mate.

Nearly two years after the shootings, it was time for Preston and Gillard to face the music — their trial started in the Supreme Court in June 1998.

The victims: Tim Richards and Les Knowles were gunned down by Gerald Preston.

There were 70 days of evidence and submissions, 105 witnesses and 170 exhibits throughout the trial, which at the time was the longest in South Australian history.

Prosector Adam Kimber — now the Director of Public Prosecutions — told the court the police investigation included bugging Preston’s house and phone.

His ex-wife, Vicki Preston, would tell the court Preston had visited her in Melbourne after the killings, and had gone to visit the Hells Angels clubhouse.

“There had been discussion about the shooting at Lonsdale (at the club),’ Mr Kimber told the court.

“They said it was nothing and they should just get on with the next one. (Vicki Preston) asked if there was going to be another one and (Preston) said, ‘Oh yeah, it is only just starting’.’’

Mr Kimber said police also swooped on the Moonta property of Preston’s father and found the gun allegedly used in the killings, ammunition and the van’s ignition switch.

But Preston, who represented himself, told the court he had known nothing of the shootings until he saw a report on the news that night.

Although he admitted he knew the Hells Angels bikie accused of ordering the hit, he said the only deal in which he had been involved with him was the trade of marijuana.

How The Advertiser reported the murders

Opening his own case, Preston told the jury he had played no part in the killings and had been at work the day of the shootings.

“I will give evidence that the first I knew of the shootings was the evening news reports and that I came to have extra knowledge by way of a meeting I had with my brother,’’ Preston said.

“He told me that he had a Luger (pistol) and asked me if I wanted it.’’

Preston said his relationship with his brother, Ronald Peter Preston, had never been good, and had deteriorated after he tried to frame him for an armed robbery in 1981.

On June 22, 1996, he had gone to his brother’s flat at Hilton and had seen a yellow van parked in the car park, he told the jury.

He remembered it only because the numberplate ended with 007.

He next heard of the van the day after the Lonsdale shootings, when his brother joined him for a drink at The Planet nightclub on Pirie St in the CBD.

Killing floor: The workshop where Les Knowles and Tim Richards met their deaths.

“He told me he had got himself in a bit of trouble and he explained that he had been involved with this van,’’ Preston said.

“He really believed the burnt van (linked in the media with the killings) was the van that he had been looking after.

“He told me he had a Luger, a scanner and some tools and I told him that he should get rid of those things.’’

Preston said his brother had told him he did not want the gun to disappear altogether as he feared he may need it if he were the target of “retribution’’.

He agreed to send the weapon to their father’s farm at Moonta, to be buried there.

The prosecution alleged Preston’s brother was not involved, other than him looking after the van between the time it was stolen and the time it was used in the shootings.

Preston denied conversations with his former wife that implicated him in the killings, saying he may have told her there was some trouble, in reference to his brother, but had never said he was a part of it.

It was claimed $10,000 had been paid for the hit, although no motive was ever established.

Mr Traeger, who died of cancer before the trial, gave a statement to the police, saying he believed Mr Knowles had been involved in the drugs trade and he had often seen large amounts of cash in the workshop office.

Police found $70,000 on the premises on the day of the killings.

Closing arguments from both prosecution and defence took more than three weeks.

And on October 20, 1998, the jury finally started its deliberations — trying to decipher fact from fiction, truth from lies.

After eight days of deliberations, the jury walked back into the Supreme Court with a verdict.

There was standing room only in the packed courtroom while one-by-one the jury members took their seats.

It was 3.55pm and it resulted in one word — “guilty”.

AFTER the verdict was returned, Justice Ted Mullighan commended the jury, saying “what you have done in this case has affirmed my very strong commitment and belief in the jury system’’.

Following the guilty verdict, Mr Knowles’ widow Rayelene Knowles spoke with The Advertiser about her late husband’s murder.

She said she could never forgive the two men who murdered her husband in a gangland-style execution.

“We as a proud family will never forgive you for the damage that you have done to our lives, nor will we ever be able to forget the pain that you have caused us,’’ she said.

The devastated widow and her son, Jay, had endured two years of living hell waiting for justice.

Now the veil of loss and anger had been partially lifted.

Mrs Knowles said she wanted to tell the convicted men that God alone could forgive them.

“We are most positive that God Himself would not expect ordinary mortals to be capable of ever forgiving homicide or forgetting the pain of it,’’ she said.

In a message to the killers, Mrs Knowles said: “You made the choices and took the chances which took the life of someone we loved, a life now in God’s hands.

“By the grace of that same God, we pray that He and He alone finds it in His heart to forgive you.’’

Seated in the lounge room of her neat suburban home, clutching a cigarette, Mrs Knowles said she bore no malice towards the convicted men’s families.

“And I don’t hate the two men, but I’m indifferent — numb,’’ she said.

In the dock: Preston with Kevin Wayne Gillard during the trial.

Jay said he and his mother had endured much since the killings, and he did not believe time healed all wounds.

“All time does is give you more experiences, more distractions,’’ he said.

“But each time you remember, it’s like the day it happened. You don’t forget — ever.’’

Mrs Knowles thanked Major Crime Task Force members and Christies Beach CIB for their “respect and dignity’’ and their “dedication in bringing the accused to justice’’.

She also thanked the Homicide Support Group of SA and her family, but singled out Jay for keeping her afloat during the past traumatic two years.

“Without his love and care to me, we together would not have survived this horrific nightmare called homicide,’’ she said.

“We as a family are so sure that hell itself could never be anywhere so dark, mean, isolated or unkind. The last 22 months we’ve been hanging by a thread.

“(The verdict) was like a light at the end of a tunnel which got closer until the end. But every day in between was hell.’’

Also following the guilty verdict, Preston’s father — a retired merchant seaman — said it was unlikely he would ever talk to his son again.

“I thought he was a good son but ... he turned into a proper ratbag,’’ Mr Preston said.

“I’m quite angry — he blamed everyone for the crime but himself.’’

Court documents revealed Preston had lived a life of crime. He had:

COMMITTED a string of armed robberies.

SERVED several jail terms for a range of offences, including a six-year term for armed robbery.

ONCE earned $3500 a week selling marijuana.

RECEIVED stolen computers from various people over several years.

ARRANGED for others to commit burglaries.

At the family’s home in Moonta, on the Yorke Peninsula, Mr Preston said his son had placed the family at risk and even implicated them in the killings.

The convicted killer had also threatened him and his wife, Ivy, then 67, and tried to frame his younger brother, Ronnie, for the murder.

At one point, a bikie arrived in the town and threatened the family.

Mrs Preston said she could not forgive her stepson.

“I don’t think they would have caught him without our help,’’ Mrs Preston said. “You can’t support a murderer.’’

Initially, Mr Preston was charged with burying the murder weapon, a 9mm Luger pistol, in their backyard.

The charge was later dropped but Mr Preston thought the family was “used’’ by the son he accused of lying throughout the trial.

“I had the gun for protection, but he rang up and said he had been offered a good price for it and Ivy took it down to Adelaide so he could sell it,’’ Mr Preston.

“But he wanted it to shoot these guys.

Preston’s father didn’t hold back when interviewed.

“I just didn’t think my son was capable of doing it (the murders).

“But I went to visit him in jail and he said he’d been dobbed in by a pal — that was my first inkling he’d done it.’’

Preston made the decision to end two lives — he rolled the dice and risked getting caught.

For it, he got a life sentence with a non-parole period of 32 years.

But that wasn’t the end of the bloodshed.

In June 1999, a year after testifying against her ex-husband at trial, Vicki Preston — who had become a devout born-again Christian known as Vicki Jacobs — was herself assassinated by a gunman as she slept next to her six-year-old son.

Preston was questioned in jail but maintained his innocence.

He even paid for a newspaper death notice on behalf of his ex-wife.

“Soulmates once, you gave us a beautiful healthy son and blossomed as a proud, devoted mother. And while we grew apart, I always admired your strength and never stopped missing you,” he wrote.

Those loving words didn’t tally with vindictive entries in his prison diary found by investigating officers.

In March 1997 he wrote: “My dog of an ex-wife is playing serious access games with my beautiful young boy — what should be her punishment?’’

In May 1998 he wrote: “This is the day we saw Vicki for the dog she is! She signed a statement against everyone ... what a maggot!’’

And in June 1998 he vented: “It’s all hitting home — my ex-wife Vicki has turned Crown to seal my fate and ensure her sole custody of our son Benjamin — dog!”

A coronial inquest pointed the finger of suspicion at Preston and a Hells Angels associate, Terrence Tognolini. But the murder of Vicki Jacobs remains unsolved — and like so many elements of this murky case, the full truth may never be revealed.