Tragic mayor haunted by probe: ‘IBAC will send me to jail’
When friends came around, Amanda Stapledon would hold a finger up to her mouth and whisper ‘shhhh, they’re listening’.
It’s 1.48pm on Thursday, December 9, and Amanda Stapledon needs to see her best friend right now. The first call goes through to messages. The second one does too. At 1.52pm she reaches Kerril Burns. Meet me at L’Arte Central, Stapledon says. It’s urgent, she adds. Abandoning Woolies, Burns heads to the community cafe in Melbourne’s Cranbourne East.
Stapledon is even more stressed than usual.
“She told me she was being charged with corruption and she would be sent to jail,” Burns tells The Weekend Australian.
Stapledon then gives her an out: You don’t have to be my friend any more.
Burns, who forged a strong bond after meeting the newly elected councillor in 2008, says don’t be stupid and promises to stand by her no matter what the Independent Broad-based Anti-corruption Commission says about her conduct as mayor of Casey in Melbourne’s sprawling southeastern suburbs.
“She said she was giving me the opportunity to not be her friend. My response was that she was offending me by suggesting that I could not be her friend. I had been with her for the whole time as her support person and I had no plans to change,” she says.
Stapledon – described by her friend as “loving, caring, genuine, honest, fun loving and family first” – spent the final two years of her life looking over her shoulder, growing increasingly isolated and racked with anxiety about her fate at the hands of IBAC’s Operation Sandon, an investigation into allegedly corrupt land deals between councillors and a developer.
In her final months and weeks, the 58-year-old’s paranoia about IBAC bugging her phone and home spiralled. When friends came around and asked how she was holding up, she would hold a finger up to her mouth and whisper “shhhh”.
She insisted friends walk into the middle of a paddock to talk about her fears of prosecution and jail and what would become of her 29-year-old disabled son, Pete.
Fighting a criminal trial would cost her $400,000, she told friends, and that would mean selling her home, an asset she’d always hoped would be there for her son’s entire life.
There was shame, too. Despite reassurances from close friends that she wouldn’t necessarily face prosecution and she might have been guilty of naivety, maybe even stupidity, but not corruption, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had let everyone down and would bring shame to her family.
But above all, Stapledon – the effervescent two-time mayor and tireless disability advocate – was crushed by the waiting game.
Friends say the silence and uncertainty piled on top of the humiliation of public examination pushed her towards, and ultimately over, the edge.
In March 2020 she spent two days in the IBAC witness box. Burns, who was her nominated support person, recalls: “Amanda and I caught the train to the city to attend IBAC, only to be told after a couple of hours that she wouldn’t be required and to come back on Monday.
“On the Monday we caught the train back to the city, and here we were met by her barrister and given a few minutes to ask questions. An IBAC counsellor approached and asked if Amanda was OK, and that she was there if she wanted to talk.
“At the start of the hearing Commissioner Redlich was very nice and explained that if she needed a break she just needed to ask.
“She was hounded all day by both a male and female barrister, and she did become confused at times because they were speaking about specific dates and of course, being as she had done as she was told and not referred to anything, she was vague.”
Day two in the stand was worse. “During the afternoon in particular, Amanda became totally confused and I could see she had no idea what or how she was answering, and the commissioner was becoming impatient with her and believed she was not telling the truth,” Burns says.
In the days after her testimony, Burns says, her friend struggled. “Amanda was continually calling in a terrible state of mind, worrying about what she had said, how she had answered, what could she have done differently,” she says. IBAC’s case against Stapledon focused on an undeclared $25,000 donation for her 2014 state election campaign from property developer John Woodman, and meetings she held with him without a council officer being present.
She also told the Operation Sandon hearing that Woodman had made a donation of between $15,000 to $20,000 to the Blairlogie Living and Learning Centre, where her son was cared for during respite.
IBAC lawyers then asked her if she believed this was a conflict of interest. “At the time I didn’t believe so … I think I should have declared it,” she told IBAC.
She was then asked if during a period of unemployment Woodman had given her $15,000. “That is absolutely not true,” she responded.
Transcripts of her evidence reveal confusion as she struggles to answer some questions. She makes concessions, expresses regret and admits she could have done better.
“I would like to say how deeply I regret my actions in this matter. My intention was always to be a fantastic councillor, champion of the community and those in need. I really strongly regret. I’m so bitterly disappointed in myself and the impact that I might have had on my council officers, who I love dearly, and fellow councillors and the community,” she tells IBAC Commissioner Robert Redlich in her final statement.
By Christmas Day 2020, the now ex-mayor of Casey was still waiting for IBAC to make its move. What’s taking so long, she would ask friends.
“She admitted she was becoming increasingly anxious regarding the length of time the IBAC inquiry was taking, and not being kept informed of any developments regarding her,” Burns says.
As 2021 rolled on the pressure built, yet still nothing from IBAC. In April, friends and witnesses complained to the Victorian Inspectorate, the body that monitors IBAC, about the welfare of witnesses. (It would take seven months to get a reply. And when it arrived, it not only cleared IBAC but failed to specifically reference the suicide warnings).
On June 19, Stapledon rang Burns to say she was cancelling a dinner date as she was feeling down. “She assured me she wasn’t planning to do anything stupid, she just needed a lie-down and try and to get some sleep,” she says.
During the subsequent months, the pair were in constant contact. A network of friends had stayed loyal and were offering Stapledon love and support.
On December 3, she dropped in for a coffee. “She was agitated and asked for my phone to be switched off because she needed to talk, but then said it could still be bugged so we left the phones in the house and we walked into the middle of the paddock to talk,” Burns recalls.
“She was really concerned that it was taking so long for the IBAC report to be forthcoming and she couldn’t sleep, and she was experiencing terrible headaches that she couldn’t get rid of.
“She had numerous visits to the chiropractor to work on her neck to try and fix this, but she was so tensed up nothing seemed to work.”
Days later, the ex-mayor received some disturbing news from another Casey figure. This person, Stapledon told Burns, claimed a source within IBAC told them she was going to be charged with corruption offences.
This claim, regardless of real or exaggerated, sent the already fragile ex-mayor into a tailspin. The person identified as the source of the claim failed to return calls from The Weekend Australian.
It was this news that prompted Stapledon’s urgent need to see Burns on December 9. “I said there was no way she could be found guilty of corruption because she hadn’t personally gained anything,” Burns recalls.
“Her major crime was stupidity, firstly for meeting with developers without having a council officer with her, and secondly for overlooking the need to declare an interest at council when anything relating to Blairlogie was tabled.”
On Christmas Day last year, Burns saw that her friend was outwardly OK. “But I could tell she wasn’t herself,” she says.
Their next catch-up was on December 29. “She wouldn’t admit it but I could tell she was really stressed. We went for a drive around Rhyll … and walked. Our phones were left in the car. She said she was becoming increasingly anxious because of the length of time waiting for the report.
“I spent a lot of time at Amanda’s home over the past couple of years, staying overnight on numerous occasions and having a girl’s night in.
“It was always at Amanda’s place because she didn’t need to organise a carer or respite for Pete. On most occasions over a drink she would open up about how she was feeling, and I honestly don’t know how she put on such a cheery demeanour when mixing with people.
“She hid her feelings from her mother, father and all friends apart from about five of us, and each of us have at various times had to talk Amanda out of doing anything to harm herself.
“I don’t know about the others but I could normally talk her around by saying that Pete is much better with his mother than without. I saw the torture she was going through.”
Finally, IBAC made its move. On Friday, January 14, its draft report arrived. Shackled by laws preventing her from talking to anyone about this, other than a lawyer, the ex-mayor had to handle it alone. She took her life three days later.
In letters left to friends, Stapledon blamed herself, and alluded to something that left Burns perplexed. “She said something about ‘If only I had gone home on that Friday night instead of staying, this wouldn’t have happened. I’m so ashamed, I’ve let everyone down.’
“I have no idea what Friday night she is relating to, so can only presume there is something in the report. This was a computer-generated letter, but there was a piece of paper enclosed and handwritten words, ‘Thank you for being my friend’.”
The day after receiving her IBAC draft report, Stapledon sent Burns a cryptic text message: “I suspect this year is going to be messy.”
If you or someone you know is at risk of suicide, call: Lifeline: 13 11 14 or lifeline.org.au; Beyond Blue: 1300 22 4636 or beyondblue.org.aus
