Melbourne Gangland

Sundays for normal people are a little island away from the working week - a place filled with bacon and eggs, stretches on the couch, walks in the park and piping hot coffee. I’m a crime reporter for a weekly newspaper in Australia’s crime capital and my Sundays are usually a bit different. Sunday is typically the day I wake bleary-eyed to the sound of my ringing mobile closely followed by a spray of invective from some heavy character or other.

Sometimes it’s a colourful kickboxer or a colourful nightclub figure or a colourful race track identity who doesn’t like what I’ve written about him in that day’s paper. Sometime the unhappy customers who ruin my Sunday aren’t colourful at all – just angry criminals who have been convicted of serious offences.

On the scariest Sundays the voice on the line belongs to Roberta Williams.

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