Ruth Wykes - Dont Ever Call Me Helpless. Australias Worst Female Serial Killer

DON'T EVER CALL ME HELPLESS

by

Ruth Wykes

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to spend time with a convicted serial killer? Or how you would feel when they told you what it was like to take a life?

Don't Ever Call Me Helpless is a powerful, chilling true crime story that offers a rare glimpse into the mind of convicted murderer Catherine Birnie.

In the late 1980s, Catherine and her defacto partner David Birnie went on a killing spree that shocked and numbed the Western Australian community. In just six weeks they abducted, tortured, raped and murdered four Perth women, and were only caught when a fifth victim escaped and led police to the killers.

During the 1990s Ruth Wykes was a frequent visitor to Perth's Bandyup Women's Prison. She spent many hours with Catherine Birnie, and her account of the woman, mother, and remorseless killer is a must-read for anyone who is interested in true crime.

It's the stillness in her, the calm, when she watches me that frightens me morethan anything. I know enough to be aware that her conscience is bankrupt; she is bemused by ordinaryhuman emotions and reactions.

I am her reluctant teacher. I know she mimics my interactions with people to help her pass asordinary and insignificant. I have become her mask. Yet barely beneath the surface, in those timesshe is tested, her true character is revealed. When she is real she is cruel, deeply arrogant,manipulative and difficult.

She won't change because she can't. She won't find redemption, and in any case she doesn'twant to.

Catherine Margaret Birnie resides in Perth's Bandyup Women's Prison. It has beenher home for 22 years, and if public sentiment is any measure of her future, she will remain therefor the rest of her life. In 1987 she was imprisoned for abducting, kidnapping, torturing andmurdering four Perth women and attempting to murder a fifth. She and her partner David Birnie werekidnappers. They were torturers. They were sexual sadists. They are serial killers.

The first thing you notice about Catherine Birnie is that you don't notice her at all. She blendsin, taking up very little space. It isn't until she becomes aware that you haven't recognised herthat she makes herself known to you.

She doesn't look scary; neither does she carry an aura of danger. In her everyday life CathyBirnie is a diminutive woman, only around 160 centimetres tall with tiny features. Her hands aresmall and well defined, and when she walks it is with the air of someone who doesn't have a care inthe world.

Even her face is still and unremarkable when she is relaxed. Her eyes, which have been variouslydescribed as cruel, evil and dark, are rarely that; they are part of the mask she wears sosuccessfully. She passes as 'nobody'.

One woman, a social worker who was conducting a workshop at Bandyup, spent some time chattingwith Catherine in the library one day. As she was leaving the prison she was talking to a colleagueabout the 'lovely woman in the library'. She went on to speculate that this nice woman must be oneof those people you read about who is in prison for social security fraud. When she learned who shehad been talking to she refused to believe it: 'No way! She's like any normal person you'd meet inthe street. She couldn't have done that!'

But Catherine isn't like any normal person. She has a native intelligence that enables her toread a person's character very quickly. She also has an intuitive sense of someone'svulnerabilities, and an absolute willingness to play with that. For someone with Catherine'spropensity for games, an institution with 180 other women to choose from is a smorgasbord.

Life in prison is relatively comfortable for her. She has gained the right to live in one of theself-care units, which are separate from the main cell blocks and have their own small gardens. Shegets access to the daily newspapers and to a computer. All meals are provided; it's still jail, buta self-care unit is as comfortable a place as anyone can find within the prison.

By her own admission she is now a Christian. And while she is quite happy to state that she hasfound God, her reluctance to expand on this life-changing experience leaves many people cynical. Itis far from uncommon for prisoners, especially those serving lengthy jail terms, to convert toChristianity. It is also not uncommon for that to be nothing more than a convenient 'characterreference' for their next parole hearings.

Now 58 years old, Catherine is a fading version of the hateful, belligerent woman who staresdefiantly out of photos taken after her arrest in 1986. Her face has softened and her hair hasturned grey.

The hateful facial expressions, captured by the news media and police photographers, represent amoment, frozen in time, when she had just been convicted of murder. They are inarguably thereference point by which everybody forms their judgement of Catherine Birnie. After all, the closestmost people will ever get to her is by looking at those frozen images. In real life she is softer,less intimidating. But is she any less lethal?

The year 1986 was one in which Australian politics was dominated by the Labor Party. Bob Hawke,the charismatic bloke you'd want to have a beer with, was Prime Minister of Australia. Brian Burke,a man who himself would become intimately familiar with the inside of a prison cell, was Premier ofWestern Australia. In New South Wales Neville Wran resigned after a decade of leading the state.

Culturally, the Australian Ballet was bravely performing Shakespeare's Taming of theShrew to surprisingly excellent reviews, but the arts event most Australians remember more wasthe debut of the movie Crocodile Dundee. Starring Paul Hogan, it became a worldwide smash. Onthe small screen an ambitious local soap opera made its debut. Producers and TV executives wonderedhow it would be received, but Neighbours is still entertaining us more than two decadeslater.

In the sporting arenas around the nation, the Parramatta Eels beat Canterbury Bankstown tobecome premiers of the New South Wales Rugby League, and in the VFL's 90th year Hawthorn defeatedCarlton.

But 1986 was a horrific year for crime. In February a young nurse, Anita Cobby, went missing.When her body was found in a paddock, every ordinary person in New South Wales was stunned, thenoutraged. Rage was palpable when five men were arrested and details emerged of what they had done toAnita.

In March a car bomb exploded outside Police Headquarters in Russell Street, Melbourne. The bombkilled a policewoman and injured 22 other people. Four men were arrested and sent to prison for thebombings, although one of them was later acquitted on appeal. The apparent motive for the bombingswas revenge against the police. The bombers had previously been arrested by the Victoria Police forother crimes.

In July Kevin Barlow and Brian Chambers were hanged in Malaysia. Barlow and Chambers had beencaught trafficking 141.9 grams of heroin and, in what Prime Minister Bob Hawke described as a'barbaric' act, became the first westerners executed under the tough new Malaysian anti-drug laws.They were hanged on 7 July in Pudu Prison.

In August, a beautiful nine-year-old girl, Samantha Knight, went missing in Bondi, Sydney.Despite a huge police investigation and intense media campaign nothing came to light and Samanthawasn't found. Ten years would go by before a real clue led police to start looking at a convictedpaedophile, and it would be 17 years after her death that this man would be found guilty of killingher. Samantha's body was never found.