Mick Gatto and Carl Williams caught on Crown Casino CCTV at a 'peace conference' during Melbourne's underworld war
GANGLAND SPECIAL PART III: DAYS after an execution-style hit in the underworld war, Mick Gatto wanted talks with Carl Williams' crew.
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THE underworld olive branch was extended with a kiss, a slap on the back and few cold ones.
Crown casino was the safest place for a meeting of rival factions of the gangland hostilities gripping Melbourne on December 22, 2003, with every patron's every move caught on film.
Just 10 days earlier Graham “The Munster” Kinniburgh had joined the bloody tally, executed outside his home.
Street scuttlebutt was all about who was responsible -- and would be next.
Police were also watching that night and, later, lip readers interpreted as Carl Williams and his sidekick Andrew Veniamin joined Kinniburgh's lifelong friend Mick Gatto for peace talks.
“No you walk away from this and mind your own business,” warned Mr Gatto. “But anything with you, that's your problem.
“But if anything comes my way then I'll send somebody to you.
“I'll be careful with you, be careful with me.
“I believe you, you believe me, now we're even. That's a warning,” he declared: “It's not my war.”
But the war was his, whether he wanted it or not, just a few months later.
Kinniburgh's was a huge scalp in a raging gangland war. A hitman like "Benji" would have proudly claimed it.
But while he might have killed as many as eight others during the bloodletting, this was one Veniamin didn't do.
The gunshots that killed The Munster woke his neighbours in a quiet Kew street, about as far from underworld heartland Carlton as you can get.
Kinniburgh was a classic old-style crook -- a grandfather, gentleman, gastronome and gangster.
While accused of everything from major jewel heists to trafficking $15 million in drugs, Kinniburgh lived a Teflon-coated existence in the criminal world where few serious charges stuck.
The 62-year-old dropped off the criminal radar in his twilight years, with a single high-profile blip appearing at the inquest of violent standover man and underworld figure Alphonse Gangitano.
The inquest heard he was there when Gangitano was executed, probably by Jason Moran.
The gangland hit that shocked a nation
But amid the madness that took three dozen-odd lives, the elder statesman with a taste for fine dining was generally considered a voice of reason.
His murder was, at the time, the biggest hit in the gangland war.
Kinniburgh's death devastated his lifelong friend Gatto, who was a pallbearer at his funeral.
“This has left a void in my life that can't be replaced,” he wrote in a long notice placed in the Herald Sun. “I love you, Pa and I will never ever forget you.”
Mr Gatto, the consultant to the building industry with a colourful past as a professional gambler and boxer, and Veniamin, the volatile young man with a penchant for guns, were also friendly.
“Well it comes in handy with the work that I do,” Mr Gatto explained to his Supreme Court murder trial in 2005. “I like to know as many people as I can.”
But the pair certainly sounded like more than acquaintances during the 40-odd phone calls they exchanged over the eight months leading up to Veniamin's death.
“Hello buddy, it's the Little Bloke, mate,” Veniamin would say. “What's going on champ?” the Big Bloke would reply.
Those listening to the intercepted calls might have noticed a change in tone after Kinniburgh's death, with Gatto increasingly concerned about the younger man's whereabouts.
Veniamin almost grovels in his efforts to please.
The colourful world of Mick Gatto
“You need to see me buddy?” he asks when called during a Queensland holiday. “Because if you need to mate, I can fly down for a day.”
Gatto would later admit he was keeping tabs on Veniamin.
“I just wanted to know what he was doing, and what he was up to and you know, keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” he said.
He suspected Veniamin had killed his closest friend, and he was next.
“I kept hearing that I was a target, I was going to be next to be killed,” he said. “When you put it in that context, that I believed that he killed Graham, yes, I did loathe him.”
The offer Mick couldn't refuse
At the peace meeting, Williams and Veniamin were adamant they were not responsible for the murder of Kinniburgh.
They even offered theories that Asian gangs from Footscray or the police were the real culprits.
For his part, Veniamin was apparently telling the truth.
His phone records show he was in Delahey, near Taylors Lakes, minutes before and after Kinniburgh was shot dead. Police say he could not have done it.
But in March of 2004 that information -- which may have allayed Gatto's suspicions about Veniamin’s role in Kinniburgh’s death -- was known only to investigators.
The jury that determined Mr Gatto's fate at his Supreme Court trial heard evidence from a man named Michael Pastras, who knew both Gatto and Veniamin, and who was one of the last people to speak to Veniamin as he drove to his death on March 23, 2004.
Fury as Gatto wins boxing licence
They called him Eyes, because Veniamin and Carl Williams had given him a $25,000 pair of diamond-studded glasses.
He told the jury that Veniamin never mentioned anything to him about wanting to settle things with Gatto.
But the jury did not hear of the “conscience” that lead Mr Pastras to the offices of Mr Gatto's legal team mid-trial, to confess what even the judge agreed was explosive evidence, which had the potential to change the course of the case.
Mr Pastras claimed Veniamin had told him just days before he was killed that he wanted Gatto dead. “I am f---ing dirty on Mick Gatto, he has got to go,” Veniamin allegedly said to Mr Pastras, who claims he “nearly fainted” upon hearing it.
But the defence did not press for the recalling of Mr Pastras to recount this revelation to the jury.
On the day of the shooting, Gatto called Veniamin about 2pm and invited him to La Porcella, the Italian eatery he used as his office.
He was comfortable there, where the owner let him have free rein to wander about the place and conduct his business.
“What, where's that?
“The same place? I'll see you soon, buddy.”
“Affirmative, bye,” Veniamin said.
Subtlety was not Veniamin's strong point. Few diners failed to notice him double-park his silver Mercedes in Faraday St, tattooed arms and calves on display as he strode into the restaurant.
Gatto held court at a table in a raised part of the large eatery.
He greeted Veniamin like an old friend and the younger man sat beside him, dumping his keys on the table.
Gatto wore a dark pinstriped suit, a blue and white striped shirt and a pink-red tie with flowers on it.
There were others at the table, most of them mates of Gatto for decades.
All present said the pair seemed normal as they chatted, though none could recall what they spoke about.
Veniamin's reputation among his peers from Sunshine -- who included childhood mate Faruk Orman and Gatto associate Steve Kaya, both of whom were at the Gatto table -- was that he was usually armed and had an explosive temper.
Police shared that view and for many months had been watching him, listening to him, and making it difficult for him to wander about with guns.
Difficult, but not impossible. And Gatto claims Veniamin would almost certainly have come to the meeting that day armed.
Nobody saw the gun, but according to Gatto - the only survivor of the scuffle that ensued - Veniamin produced it when he was told his company wasn't wanted any more.
Gatto said he still woke every night in a cold sweat, reliving the events that took place that day.
“He actually kicked my foot under the table and he motioned with his head like that, that he wanted to have a chat,” he said.
Gatto said they went into a corridor out the back -- a tight squeeze at 60cm wide for a man who was then 30kg heavier.
Veniamin told him he was sick of hearing that Gatto thought he was responsible for Graham Kinniburgh's death.
“I said, `Well, I have to be honest with you mate, that's what I keep hearing, that's what people are saying',” he said.
“Well, there was no argument. I mean, we were just talking.”
Gatto said Veniamin told him he wouldn't interfere with him because he was a mate. “I said to him, `Well, Dino Dibra and PK were your mates. You f---ing killed them.'
“And he turned around and he said, `Well, they deserved it, they were dogs'.
At that point I turned around and I said, `I think it's better if you stay out of our company. I really don't believe that you can be trusted -- I'd rather you not come around near us at all.’
“I was looking him in the eyes and his face went all funny and he sort of stepped back and he said, `We had to kill Graham. We had to kill f---ing Graham'.
He said, `F--- Graham and f--- you' and I never seen where he got it from, but he pulled a gun out and that's when I lunged with him.”
Gatto said he reached for Veniamin's hand on the gun and it went off, past his head, before he was able to push it towards Veniamin.
“With my hands, I forced -- he had his hands on the trigger and I just forced his hands, squeezed his hands to force him to pull the trigger.
“I've got to be honest I thought I was a dead duck anyway, I thought I was gone.”
Gatto said Veniamin was lying on the ground, coughing and spluttering blood, when he prised the gun from his hands and walked out.
“I seriously believed that once they'd done all their tests and whatever, they would have released me, they would have realised that what I was telling them was the truth,” Gatto said.
“He died because he just pulled a gun at me.
“He tried to kill me and I stopped him from doing that and he got shot rather than me.
“Thank God he did.”
It was an unusual step for Gatto to give evidence in his own defence - and it was probably the key to his freedom.
He provided jurors with the only first-hand account available to them of what took place in the corridor where he shot Andrew Veniamin dead.
And he delivered it with conviction.
Gatto was adamant it was Veniamin at all times who had the gun, and who forced him to shoot him with it when the bigger man's own life was at risk.
His fate was then left to 12 citizens who had never met the defendant, the victim, or each other.
But together they needed just a day to come to the same conclusion: Gatto was not guilty.
It would be hard to imagine a more difficult task than to decide whether to take away a man's freedom, or return it to him.
It's especially onerous for a group of people plucked at random from the community, without the years of training of those who work in our complicated criminal justice system.
It is the job of the prosecution to prove its case beyond a reasonable doubt.
Its case was that Gatto cornered Veniamin in the narrow hallway and shot him three times, including shots fired after his victim had been disabled and was unable to fight on.
Gatto claimed he was not guilty on the lawful basis of self-defence - Veniamin pulled the gun on him and he was forced to shoot him to save his own life.
The prosecution needed to prove the killing was not justified. The defence needed to prove nothing.
The Supreme Court judge has the job of directing the jury on how to apply the law. Justice Philip Cummins summed up for the jury what lay at the heart of the case.
“For a conviction of murder in this case, the prosecution must prove the charge of murder beyond reasonable doubt,” he said.
“The accused does not have to prove he is innocent. The prosecution has to prove he is guilty.
“The prosecution does not have to prove every step in the story.
“The prosecution does not have to prove every detail, does not have to solve every riddle or every conundrum, but does have to prove beyond reasonable doubt that it was Mr Gatto who pulled the .38 on Veniamin.”
Both sides produced videos of models in clothes similar to Veniamin's, to demonstrate that one could (defence) or could not (prosecution) conceal a gun underneath.
Footage of Veniamin wearing the very clothes he died in was shown to jurors.
Witnesses that day at La Porcella said they never saw a gun bulge – but also said they weren't looking.
Others told how the Veniamin they knew was always armed, a violent man with a liking for .38 revolvers “because they don't jam”.
He was the prime suspect in at least four unsolved murders.
And while it's often said the victim is not on trial, the gun-carrying habits of a suspected hitman couldn't be ignored.
TRANSCRIPT OF TELEPHONE CALLS BETWEEN GATTO AND VENIAMIN
December 17, 2003 - The pair arrange to meet Carl Williams at Crown casino
Gatto: Yeah, sorry buddy. I forgot to mention, if you get a chance bring that mate of yours with ya
Veniamin: Oh, alright, yeah
Gatto: If you can. If you can't, it doesn't matter. I just, ah - just like to clear the air that's all
Veniamin: No worries, buddy
December 22 - The day of the casino meeting
Gatto: What are you doing champ?
Veniamin: We're just at the, in the, at the cas now, where the valet parking is.
Gatto: Yeah. I'm headin' down that way
Veniamin: We'll meet you just where the valet is anyway
*A version of this first piece appeared in the Herald Sun June 16, 2005
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