Cleo Smith accused Terence Kelly’s dangerous descent into world of make-believe
In a dilapidated duplex in Carnarvon, Terence Kelly – the man accused of abducting Cleo Smith – built himself an elaborate fantasy.
In a dilapidated duplex in a rundown part of Carnarvon known locally as The Bronx, Terence Kelly – the man alleged to have abducted four-year-old Cleo Smith – built himself an elaborate online fantasy.
Mr Kelly, increasingly isolated in the years since the death of a woman locals considered his grandmother, appears to have crossed over into a virtual world of Bratz DeLuca: a name appropriated from one of his favourite make of dolls.
Alone in his housing commission home, with no close family of his own, Mr Kelly operated what appears to be several – and potentially dozens – of different Facebook and Instagram accounts for him and his imaginary children.
In at least one instance, he appeared to use photographs from the profile of a woman and her daughters and use them for the profiles of his fake family. He tagged many of the posts as being in Cronulla, a continent away from Carnarvon.
And he did so while sitting surrounded by an elaborate collection of dolls, stretching from wall to wall, and from floor to ceiling.
Last month, police will allege, Mr Kelly crossed back out of that fantasy world and drove out to the Blowholes campground, 75km north of Carnarvon, to abduct Cleo. There, it is alleged he opened a tent where she slept with her parents, picked up the sleeping girl, and took her back to his home.
When, 18 days later, police burst through the door of his Tonkin Crescent duplex at 1am on Wednesday, they found Cleo awake and quietly playing with a collection of toys. On Friday, four prison riot squad officers led a shackled Mr Kelly onto a plane at Carnarvon bound for maximum-security prison in Perth.
They had flown 960km from Perth to collect him.
The squad does not ordinarily transport prisoners but Mr Kelly was considered high risk because he had twice harmed himself in the police cells in Carnarvon.
The Weekend Australian has been told his behaviour in custody on Thursday night caused serious concerns about how to safely manage his transfer to Perth.
Since his arrest, a trail left by Mr Kelly across social media has offered an unsettling insight into his life. His doll obsession and the fantasy family he constructed were documented primarily through Facebook pages under the names of Bratz DeLuca and Terence TezKelz.
Mr Kelly described himself in online profiles as half Australian and half Italian.
Through the DeLuca Facebook account – which has since been deactivated – Mr Kelly posted numerous updates to various doll forums. He also liked a series of different Facebook pages that have taken on different overtones in the wake of this week’s events.
Sources close to the investigation have confirmed that the Bratz DeLuca account belonged to him.
One Bratz DeLuca post on October 18, two days after Cleo disappeared, said “feeling blessed”.
The Bratz DeLuca profile also liked dozens of different pages about dolls, mermaids, Disney princesses and cosplay.
Through a web of fake social media accounts, Mr Kelly appeared to orchestrate conversations between himself and his imaginary “daughters”.
Often, the conversations involved his “children” telling their father how much they loved him.
In another post from January 1 he professed to have spoken with “my son 16 my eldest girls 17 year old, 19 year old and 21 year old plus my 11 year old” about the dangers of the online world.
“As a parent it’s (sic) give you goosebumps and very real knowing predatory people can strike behind the screen and keyboard, I also feel the need to protect my kids more and their friends too also other children around us we must look out for.”
While Mr Kelly isn’t the only man on earth with a doll collection, his apparent personification of the toys sits in contrast to other more conventional collectors.
In one social media foray, “DeLuca” posted photographs of him sitting in a vehicle with one of his dolls. “I love taking my dolls for drive abounds and doing their hair and taking selfies in public,” he wrote.
The picture of a loner with an obsession for dolls who is alleged to have abducted a child sounds like a trope of B-grade movie thrillers.
But criminal psychologists who have worked in the field for decades told The Weekend Australian they had rarely, if ever, seen a case such as this.
James Ogloff, a professor of behavioural science and director of the Centre for Forensic Behavioural Science at Swinburne University, has crossed paths with some of the country’s worst child abductors over his nearly 40-year career.
While he did not want to comment specifically on the allegations in the Kelly case, he said it was extremely atypical for someone alleged to be a child abductor to have an obsession with dolls.
“It goes without saying that it’s very unusual,” he said.
“As a psychologist, one of the things you start to wonder about – and it’s not just in this case – but people who have strange obsessions generally.
“But you also get people who collect things to fill gaps in life. We know, for example, that people who hoard often have underlying psychological issues.”
Similarly, the creation of fake online profiles could be a reflection of someone with a weakening grip on reality. “All of us have some sort of fantasy and we think about things, but we’re in touch with reality. We know what’s real and what’s not real. The question is whether you cross that line of irrationality,” he said.
Another criminal psychologist, who declined to be named, said they’d “not seen anything like it”.
Mr Kelly was known to be close to a woman locals considered his grandmother, Penny Walker. Her death about two years ago marked a change in his behaviour, according to some.
“He became more reclusive,” one person who used to see Mr Kelly in town regularly said.
But Mr Kelly did not stop going out altogether. Three or four times a year, he bought Disney princesses and other little girls’ toys at the local Toyworld. This did not raise eyebrows since Mr Kelly has lots of young relatives.
He was seen in the main street of Carnarvon during the 18 days Cleo was missing. On October 29 – five days before police raided his house and arrested him nearby in simultaneous operations – when Cleo may have been locked away in his house, Mr Kelly took his dying dog to the vet.
The revelations about his online persona have emerged in almost real time. Police have said Mr Kelly became a suspect only late on Tuesday, just hours before detectives burst through the door of his house.
Hordes of online sleuths have been scouring the internet for traces of Mr Kelly’s profile, finding details and accounts before they can be removed. His unusual doll collection and his strange social media presence have added a further bizarre twist to the shocking Cleo Smith story.
The little girl went missing early on October 16, after her and her family had arrived at the popular off-grid campsite the night before.
Cleo’s mother, Ellie Smith, had woken at 1.30am that morning to give her a drink of water. When she woke again, Cleo was gone.
A major land and sea search was launched in case the girl had wandered away, but police were quick to assume that something more sinister may have happened.
Feeding the investigators’ suspicion was that Cleo’s sleeping bag had also disappeared, and the zipper to the tent had been opened to a height the girl could not reach on her own.
As fears that Cleo had been abducted grew, a $1m reward was offered for any information leading to her recovery.
Ultimately, it was detective work that pieced together the mystery, leading to the incredible rescue 18 days after she disappeared.
Audio released by police captured the moment when Cleo was found. The sound of the girl saying “my name is Cleo”, and a photograph of her smiling and waving to the camera from her hospital bed, triggered an outpouring of emotion around the country.
Mr Kelly, meanwhile, is facing numerous charges including one count of forcibly take a child under 16. He was flown to Perth under heavy police guard on Friday to spend his first night in a maximum-security prison cell – a world away, literally and metaphorically, from his online domain and that room full of dolls.
Additional reporting: Emily Kowal