Deadline: How eagle-eyed tourist missed $1m reward

He was on a bus in Athens when he saw a thickset man with thickset hair. He nudged his wife and said: “That’s Mokbel.” So what did he do about it? Andrew Rule and Mark Buttler with the latest crime buzz.

Tony Mokbel in custody outside the Athens Appeals Court in Jun 2007. Picture: AP

Melbourne’s top crime writers Andrew Rule and Mark Buttler with their weekly dose of scallywag scuttlebutt.

HOW BRIAN X SPOTTED TONY M

Some people recognise faces in a split second. They are called “super-recognisers” and police forces and border forces are very keen to hire them.

Scientists say only about two per cent of the population have the gift, and that practice doesn’t help much.

Occasionally, a super recogniser bobs up in a police force but in fact very few coppers have the knack of repeatedly spotting wanted “heads” in a crowd.

Brian X has never worked for the police or border forces but maybe he should have. He was on a bus in Athens with his wife in mid-2007 when he glanced out the window as it passed through a beachside suburb.

Mokbel and his furry friend in an Athens Police mugshot. Picture: AFP

He saw a thickset man with thickset hair sticking out from beneath a cap. Their eyes met for a second. Brian nudged his wife and said: “That’s Tony Mokbel.”

The couple, from Melbourne’s eastern suburbs, didn’t fancy trying to explain Brian’s hunch to Greek police.

They flew home a couple of days later and were caught up in family affairs for a few days.

Before Brian thought more about the man in the cap, the news broke that Australasia’s most wanted had been arrested in the Athens suburb of Glyfada, a few hundred metres from our tourists’ bus route.

As for Brian X, he is still minding his own business.

But if you are a fugitive and see a large man walking a small terrier around Glen Waverley, pop on your Covid mask and sunnies. Just in case.

On the subject of wanted men, Tasmanian police are hunting a criminal genius named Floyd Mansfield.

He has long red hair plaited in a “tail”, a mullet at the front, a huge facial tattoo (“VIOLET”) and gold chains big enough to tie up the Spirit Of Tasmania.

Blends right into the crowd on the Apple Isle.

Floyd Mansfield is blending into the background in Tasmania.

THE DERANGED TRACK THE ESTRANGED

Not all fugitives are bad guys. Some are women who live in fear of their partners either before and after leaving them.

Speaking of which, police are concerned about the electronic tools that human “tools” use to track their partners.

Specifically, vehicle trackers — little devices that attach easily to a car so its movements can be traced.

This is okay when it’s honest cops tracing drug dealers, robbers, killers and terror suspects. But what about when the bad guys use them?

The case against trackers being easily available to those with no lawful reason was presented last week as part of the Shane Bowden murder investigation.

CCTV footage of Bowden’s Gold Coast house showed two men creeping to his vehicle one night last September.

Three weeks later, Bowden was shot dead by a pair who parked on a nearby vacant lot — precisely the same spot used by the tracker installers.

For years, criminals have used trackers to monitor their foes. They are a special favourite of the Comanchero gang.

One gang associate was busted using a tracker just before a planned contract hit was due to happen.

About a decade ago, armed bandit Chris Binse put a tracker on the vehicle of rival Gavin Preston, tailing him everywhere with sinister intent.

But it’s not just gangsters running surveillance who worry authorities. Anti-family violence campaigners have for years been alarmed about deranged spouses tracking estranged partners.

Trouble is, what used to be space-age technology is now so cheap that anyone with a grudge can afford it.

DISORDER IN THE COURT

The state’s judiciary is looking forward to the return of normal court service after endless video-link hearings because of the pandemic.

It seems judges, magistrates and other officers of the court got a little too much reality TV-style insight into defendants.

From a defendant with a parrot strutting around behind her to a bloke losing his composure over what may have been a drug deal, things have loosened up quite a bit over the pandemic months.

Moments of domestic bliss — and otherwise — have been beamed to the beaks.

One magistrate was forced to tell a “backseat-driver” wife to zip it as she persistently interjected with instructions for her husband.

And there have been too many defendants pleading their case from their cars as they try to escape screaming children.

COPS CLOCK CRIMINAL CLONING

No wonder police are concerned about crooks cloning number plates, as highlighted in the Sunday Herald Sun this week.

The stories keep surfacing. A while ago, police spotted a car fitted with cloned plates in the northwestern suburbs. When they approached, the driver allegedly opened fire.

After arresting the trigger-happy turkey, investigators opened the boot and made an ominous discovery:gloves, a balaclava, a change of clothes and bottles of petrol. A serious crime kit of the type used in underworld hits.

Meanwhile, backyard number plate fakers seem to have it all their own way. A well-informed source reports that one backyarder has been making fake enamel plates for years.

One favourite trick is to take part of a genuine registration number and change it slightly, such as turning II2 into 112.

But number plate capers aren’t all about serious crime. There’s a touch of fraud, perhaps, in the proliferation of club plates that allow minimal annual registration fees to enthusiasts with vintage, veteran cars and collectable cars.

There is nothing to stop like minded folks from starting any sort of car club they like. Which might be why there is at least one 1990s Toyota Tarago people-mover tootling around the suburbs with club plates. Maybe it’s the “Catholic Bus Club”.

GIVE A HORSE A BAD NAME

The Australian Olympic show jumping squad set for Tokyo includes a mare named Blue Movie, ridden by her good mate Rowan Willis.

It is a scallywag name for a scallywag horse. Blue Movie has been a bad girl since she was a foal: she was hard to catch and a nightmare to break in and even now, as a 15-year-old, she’s mostly exercised by being led from another horse.

Boyd Martin on Neville Bardos in action.

That reminds us of another Australian rider, Boyd Martin, whose favourite horse before the London Olympics was Neville Bardos — named (spelling error and all) after Neville Bartos, the real-life character in the Chopper film.

Why? Because, as Martin told us then, “Neville” was mad, bad and dangerous to know.

The outlaw nag was also tough — returning to elite jumping after surviving a fatal stable fire in 2011. Not bad for a $800 reject racehorse bought off the track.

DIRT FILE

He’s one of Australia’s bigger sporting figures. He’s an action man known for late-night stress management. He knows how to entertain. And judging from the photograph doing the rounds, it seems three scantily-clad women do, too.

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