Carly Crawford - The Maria Korp Case. The Woman In The Boot Story

It was Sunday, 13 February, when authorities finally learned of the cars location. The sedan had come to the attention of staff at the gardening depot on Dallas Brooks Drive. Media reports said police were looking for a car just like it in their search for a missing woman. The vehicles heavily fogged windows and eerie permanence only added to the intrigue. It was parked in a bay diagonally opposite the depot, not far from a ticket machine, and it appeared to be in good condition. But its slick metallic finish masked a dark reality, the depths of which park worker Rick Brown was about to realise.

Early that morning, the middle-aged dad had arrived at work, curious after a conversation hed had with a workmate at home the day before. His mate had mentioned the burgundy car near the depot, and had told him about the missing woman. Rick would not usually work on a Sunday, but Melbournes long, baking-hot summer days meant that someone had to tend to the Gardens main water features every day of the week. Rick finished work on the two fountains at one end of the parklands, then dropped into the depot for a cuppa at about 7.10 a.m. It was then that he first noticed the car and decided to investigate. His curiosity quickly turned to unease.

I walked up to the car and just felt like something wasnt right, he recalls. I cant explain it any better than that but things just didnt seem right. Strewn across the front passenger seat were pens, paper and a mouldy salad roll. A black handbag lay, upturned, on the floor. On the back seat was an open street directory, and Rick assumed the driver had been lost. So where was this driver? And why the mess? He circled the car, puzzled, and paused at the boot. Rick had no reason to do what he did next. He followed his intuition and yelled: Is anyone inside? He waited. There was no response.

Rick admitted that at the time he probably looked like a twit, talking to the rear end of a car, but his hunch would later prove to be correct. He took down the registration number, NIW306, and alerted the khaki-clad Protective Services officers who guard the nearby Shrine of Remembrance, a grand war monument adjacent to the Gardens. The officers, employees of the Victoria Police, notified force command, and by about 10.30 a.m. police were sealing off the scene with blue and white tape. This was the car they wanted. It belonged to Maria Matilde Korp, the mum from the suburbs who had disappeared in suspicious circumstances four days earlier, on 9 February 2005.

Even the fragrant tranquillity of the Royal Botanic Gardens could not dilute deaths stench that Sunday. The glaring sun pushed past the gnarled old gums and pines, casting a scattered shadow over the crime scene. For the homicide detectives who assembled under the patchy light, the smell was as familiar as it was offensive. The pungent odour lingered long that day. A subtle breeze carried it up to 5 metres from its source, which detectives believed was concealed inside the boot of the car, a 1995 model Mazda 626. The source, of course, was assumed to be a dead body.

The technical support crew was called in to open the car. While police waited for their arrival, they processed the scene. Wearing gloves and blue overalls, officers from the Crime Scene Unit scoured the area surrounding the car, checking rubbish bins, storm-water drains and gutters. They took close-up photographs of the vehicles locks, long shots of the scene itself, and detailed notes about the cars appearance. In his notebook, Senior Constable Darren Watson recorded the specifics:

• Motor vehicle parked 610 mm from gutter of Dallas Brooks Drive, surrounded by parkland.
• All doors locked and windows shut. Boot closed and locked.
• Nil visible damage/scratches to doors and boot locks.
• Nil visible damage/scratches to door lock and surrounds, windows and door seals.
• Interior surface of window heavy with condensation.
• Smell of decomposition around boot.

By 1 p.m., the techs were on-scene. Police had no key to the car so they had to force entry by picking the lock. The car alarm shrieked, drowning out the peaceful call of the parklands bellbirds. Watson popped open the car boot using the release lever beside the drivers seat, then, flanked by detectives, lifted the boot lid.

Inside lay Maria Korpbruised, bloodied and sprawled diagonally across the floor. Her face was badly bruised. Blackened blood encrusted her nose and mouth, and the right side of her face was hugely swollen. Her blouse had ridden up around her chest and the shirts short sleeves exposed a severely swollen right arm. Marias Mediterranean skin was frighteningly pale and her usually full rosebud lips were parched and split. There was a red tartan blanket inside. And that smell. That sickening odour of decay. Every police officer looking inside that car boot believed they were looking at a corpse.

Then her chest moved.