Corruption, lies & blackmail: The new evidence that could save Schapelle

It was a chilling moment for Aussie father-of-three Robert McJannett. Accused of smuggling a tiny quantity of marijuana into Bali, the crane driver kept protesting his innocence.

Seriously ill with liver disease, bowel disease, depression and a painful tooth infection, his story stayed the same through hours of interrogation. Somehow he’d been set up. He was not guilty.

And then laughing police chief Colonel Kokot Indarto, head of the island’s narcotics division, turned to him and said: ‘You don’t want to admit this is yours? How will you prove it? We found it in your luggage. If you keep this up, you will get like Corby got.’

Suddenly, with a shock of horror, Robert realised that he could be facing a lengthy sentence inside Bali’s notorious Kerobokan jail – just like Schapelle – unless he did what he was told.

Reluctantly pleading guilty, he eventually spent five months behind bars before returning to Perth a shattered and angry man just over four weeks ago.

The legal battle cost Robert his health, his career, his car and more than $70,000 – $40,000 of it borrowed from friends – in payments to officials.

At times he was so sick he thought he was going to die, and on at least two occasions he seriously contemplated killing himself to escape the misery of Kerobokan and his devastated career.

‘For five months I witnessed blackmail, bribery and corruption on an unprecedented scale,’ the 49-year-old told reporters on his arrival back in Australia.
‘It is clearly not possible to receive a fair trial in the Bali justice system.’

Robert’s arrest over 1.7 grams of marijuana has disturbing parallels to the heartbreaking ordeal of Schapelle Corby, who is currently serving 20 years in Kerobokan after being convicted of smuggling 4.1kg of marijuana in a boogie-board bag in 2004.

Both were arrested at Denpasar’s Ngurah Rai Airport en route to family holidays, both hotly denied any wrongdoing. Both asked to see any CCTV footage covering their departure from Australia and their arrival in Bali. Both also begged for the drugs allegedly found in their luggage to be finger-printed, as proof of guilt or innocence.

But all their requests were refused. Instead, they were paraded before the local media while back-slapping police and customs officers passed around the so-called ‘evidence’ – contaminating it forever.

‘My experience certainly raises a lot of important questions about the Corby case,’ says Robert, a veteran trade unionist, political candidate and anti-corruption whistleblower, who travelled to Bali for a five-day break with his son Josh Daley, 21.

‘There’s definitely a racket going on over there. The entire system is corrupt. One thing is certain, that you are going to be found guilty – it’s just a question of how long it takes.
‘Then you buy your sentence, the more money, the lighter it is, and if you don’t pay you’re stuffed. The problem with Schapelle was that it all got blown out of proportion and then she had no chance. It nearly happened to me too.’

During the months of pain and uncertainty that followed his arrest last December, Robert had plenty of time to think. His prison journal makes disturbing reading, detailing bouts of sickness, casual cruelty, coercion and demands for more and more money, including $US550 just to see a doctor.

Partly inspired by the Bali Nine’s Andrew Chan, a born-again Christian, he prayed desperately that he would eventually be freed to see his son and daughters – Taylor, 12, and Amber, 10 – again.

Today Robert insists that the marijuana was somehow planted on him – ‘I’m not stupid enough to take drugs into Indonesia, believe me’ – but that Balinese authorities heavied him into pleading guilty.

He maintains that he had never seen the narcotics before a customs officer stopped him and discovered a large metal package in his luggage, which had mysteriously failed to trigger Australian airport security.

Then the official disappeared into an office, only to return with a sports sock – ‘definitely not one of mine’ – containing the 1.7 grams of marijuana.

During 22 hours of questioning, he claims he was left in no doubt that continuing to press his innocence would only lead to a heavier penalty. ‘It was clear by this stage that anything other than a full admission of guilt was going to result in a Corby-like sentence.’

He sacked his first lawyer after paying him $3500 – ‘He wanted me to plead not guilty, and I rapidly realised that was stupid’ – then coughed up a further $68,000 to the legal eagle who finally represented him in court.

At first he was asked for $US100,000 then $US105,000, but pleaded poverty. The second lawyer then returned with an offer of $US60,000 plus a minimum of $24,000 in Australian Government funding.The eventual deal was he would escape with a five-month sentence, if he pleaded guilty and also admitted to being addicted to marijuana.

Luckily, perhaps, he had actually been to drug rehab 10 years ago and could provide the proof. From this, the lawyer and prosecutor proceeded to create a story that he had been using for 30 years.

‘I was stunned by the brazen nature of the corruption,’ says Robert, who lost 15kg during his imprisonment. ‘At the start I was told I would get a minimum of five years under the heavy importation law, articles 111 and 113.
‘Much later I was told there were new “user” laws. Under article 127 the sentence was zero to four years. If I paid more, and could prove I was addicted, it would be article 134, with a maximum sentence of six months.’

Robert had no choice but to agree with the arrangement, although he says: ‘It was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. I felt like jumping up and screaming at the judges, it’s all so wrong. It’s a big business venture totally about money. Everyone gets a cut at all levels of the system.

‘The verdict was what I was expecting, what I’d bought, but I was told to look surprised. The whole thing was a pantomime. But if I’d dared to even hint it was a set-up, they would have dropped their bundle and I would have got 20 years like Schapelle.’

During his Bali nightmare, he met and befriended the former Gold Coast beauty student in Kerobokan prison. When he grew a beard, sad and confused Schapelle mistook him for her father, who passed away in January 2008.

‘She’s a mess,’ Robert says bluntly, describing how she is bullied by another female inmate – despite constant scrutiny by guards – and virtually ignored by male members of the Bali Nine.

‘I guess I was expecting her to look five years older, but I wasn’t prepared for the sight I saw, that’s for sure...
‘There’s no doubt she is suffering from a severe mental illness. It’s chalk and cheese from the way she was at her trial. She’s a different person – different on the inside too. She can’t even string a sentence together.

‘I used to see her about three times a week, and she would often remark about
people living in her cell roof or basement. She is also convinced that the jail’s visiting area is bugged and filmed.

‘But I can’t blame her for being paranoid about cameras. She’s under the microscope 24/7 and it’s terrible for her,’ Robert adds. ‘To some there she is nothing more than a trophy, a commodity. She is tormented and teased, and when the local media are after a story on her, it’s open slather.

‘It’s not good for her health. If I had copped the treatment she does, I would have flipped out in five months. She has been in jail now for almost six years, but I’ve recently heard that out of the 55 or so convicted of the Bali bombings, only 13 are still in prison.
‘[Others] have either been paroled or set free, so why not Schapelle? She doesn’t pose a threat to anyone, does she?

‘Schapelle won’t survive unless something is done to help her. The medication alone is going to kill her. I call on the government in this election year to bring Schapelle home, before it’s too late.’

By Jenny Brown
Photos: Irene Trilianos, Renae Photography