Ally Chumley - Searching for Spiderman: The Disappearance of Three-year-old William Tyrrell

Ally Chumley is a writer and investigative journalist with a background in education and research. She is the author of dozens of books in the education sphere, where she has been published by Macmillan, Blake Education, John Wiley and many others. Ally is based on the Mid North Coast of New South Wales, not far from the town where William Tyrrell went missing.

To Kendall a big heart, broken

CONTENTS

Lots of people could claim a special connection with William Tyrrells story. Its no more mine than it is yours. My own search for Spiderman began simply because he disappeared from my figurative backyard Ive lived a stones throw from Kendall for most of my life. The tragedy hit us full force and, in absentia, William soon became Australias favourite little boy. Like others, I kept on top of developments in the case. And being a researcher, I took notes. Driven by a need to understand this baffling disappearance, I compiled an extensive dossier.

Then, out of the blue, someone I knew was sensationally named a person of interest. Stunned at this shocking twist, I offered my help and was catapulted straight into the deep end. In 2014, I was a textbook author working from home, but by 2015, Id made a necessary leap into investigative journalism.

I would spend more than five years on the case, interviewing, researching, compiling evidence and attending all three sittings of the inquest at the NSW State Coroners Court in 2019 and 2020. I was able to get my hands on court documents that helped me draw all the threads of Williams story together. I dug deep because I wanted you to hear the full story. The material in this book is entirely factual. The conclusions I draw from those facts are my own. In this book, youll hear family members, witnesses and investigators speak in their own words, apart from a few instances of reconstructed dialogue. Non-publication orders require me to use pseudonyms to protect the identities of certain people. But their testimony invites you to look behind the veil of secrecy that has shrouded this investigation.

Although I promise a good deal of new insight, certain facts have necessarily been left out of this book. I had to ensure that the investigation was not compromised by untimely revelations. The need to bring the perpetrators to justice must never be trumped by the need to know.

The more devoted Marvel fans out there will have noticed that a hyphen is missing from Spiderman. It might seem trivial, but I decided to reshape the legendary name in this way for the purposes of this book. In the Australian consciousness, the names William Tyrrell and Spiderman have become one, but it just didnt seem right to turn this dear little boy into a trademark. So you wont see the official spelling anywhere in this account.

I extend my sincere thanks to my partner in true crime, Andy Chumley. Special thanks to Lewis and Curtis for your patience in waiting for me all this time. You never complained. I am deeply indebted to Catherine for her vital assistance, so much so that Ill use her real name thanks, Fuzz. You really did go above and beyond and Im very grateful. Thanks also to Delilah for casting her expert eyes over the manuscript, to Jo for her unfailing support and to my dear Mum and Dad for imparting to me their love of words and their outrage at injustice. Id like to thank the people who graciously permitted me to chat with them Williams family members, police from Strike Force Rosann and the people of Kendall and the Camden Haven. Youve been generous and patient. Im especially thankful to the team at Hardie Grant for permitting me to write this book. Id always hoped Williams story would be told by a local.

Williams birth family

Brendan Collins Williams birth father

Karlie Tyrrell Williams birth mother

Natalie Collins Williams paternal grandmother; mother of Brendan Collins

Williams foster family

Nathan Thomas Williams foster father

Anna Wyndham Williams foster mother

Lindsay Tyrrell Williams older sister (foster daughter of Anna and Nathan)

Phillip Wyndham Williams foster grandfather (known by the children as Opa)

Nancy Wyndham Williams foster grandmother (known by the children as Nana)

Organisations and their representatives

FACS Family and Community Services (NSW Department of Communities and Justice)

Young Hope the Salvation Armys Out of Home Care Organisation

Captain Michelle White Young Hope Program Director

Ben Atwood Young Hope Program Case Worker

Judicial figures and legal representatives

Harriet Grahame DSC Deputy NSW State Coroner

Gerard Craddock SC counsel assisting the Coroner

Margaret Cunneen barrister for Gary Jubelin

Robin Bhalla barrister for NSW Police

Michelle Swift barrister for Brendan Collins

Peter OBrien barrister for Bill Spedding

Law enforcement officers

Detective Chief Inspector Gary Jubelin

Detective Chief Inspector David Laidlaw

Detective Senior Sergeant Mark Dukes

Detective Sergeant Laura Beacroft

Senior Constable Chris Rowley

Senior Constable Daniel Dring

Senior Constable Wendy Hudson

Senior Constable Robert Dingle

Selected persons of interest

Bill Spedding

Danny Parish

Derek Nichols

Dooley Northam

Frank Abbott

Geoffrey Owen

Paul Bickford

Paul Savage

Ray Porter

Robert Donohoe

Steve Arter

Tony Jones

Selected key witnesses

Jeffrey (pseudonym) protected witness

Mr Ribbon (pseudonym) protected witness

Ronald Chapman

Tanya (pseudonym) protected witness

The little boy lost in the lonely fen,
Led by the wandring light,
Began to cry, but God ever nigh,
Appeared like his father in white.

William Blake

Shh. Quiet! Kay held up one hand, head tilted against the wind. I heard something. The party of four shuffled forward, listening intently. A young man shed met just that evening started his dog in the direction Kay was pointing, but the reeds were too thick to penetrate. The dog signalled that way. The handler brought her up short. The dog insisted. He relented and followed her lead. The searchers trudged in the greenish mud, stagnant water swallowing their gumboots. Torchlight threw strange shadows over the swamp. A rhythm asserted itself. Call out, stop, listen, move forward.

Listen. Did you hear that? Kays voice was an urgent whisper. But the only sounds were other searchers voices at the edge of the pine forest. She stood in limbo, body tentative, mind racing on instinct. Then a faint whimper came, and the spell was broken. Impulsively, Kay dropped to her knees in the slush and forced herself through the thick bushes choking the swamps shallows.

Hes in there, Kays teenage son said, crashing past her, arms shielding his face from spiked, broken branches. He tore through the barrier that rescuers said was impossible for a toddler to breach. Looking down at the boggy tangle of reeds, he gasped. Kay caught up with him, then time stood still. There, with his mouth and nose just an inch clear of the water, lay a little boy, huddled against the cold. Kays heart leapt and hot tears sprang up. She didnt remember making the guttural sound that prompted a commotion from somewhere behind her. A scattering of torch beams flashed between the pines on the verge of the marshland.

Whats going on? You got him? A brief pause, scuffling noises, then the answer rang out.

Weve got him! A human chain carried the limp little body to the roadside. Kay peered into the boys pale face. He was little more than a baby. His eyes were loosely closed. A thin t-shirt clung to his chest, soaked and stained green with algae. Tender arms and legs were bloodied with scratches. Kay whispered a word to little Tyler: Mummy