Living next door to hitman Carl Williams

I was in need of a place to live in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia and my best mate Alan Peachey was living in a big mansion at 91 Primrose Street, Essendon, right across the road from Carl Williams, the notorious drug dealer and hitman’s Mum. Her name was Barbara.

To get the full story of Carl Williams, look him up on Wikipedia or watch the hit TV series Underbelly, he features in it.

An interesting point to this story is that Carl Williams was eventually murdered in jail by one of his mates, Matthew Johnson, by hitting him repeatedly in the head with the stem and seat from an exercise bike. Johnson was found guilty the day I wrote this story 29 September 2011.

Carl Williams was doing about 7 life sentences because he had admitted to killing infamous, and notorious drug dealers and fellow hitmen, Mick Marshall, and Jason and Mark Moran and at least 10 others.

I moved in to my mate Alan's house. On November 23^rd, 2008, there was a knock at the door. It was the police. They wanted to know if I had heard any strange noises during the night. When I looked over the police officers shoulder, the entire street was roped off with police tape. There were police cars parked on both sides of the street, and there were journalists camped all over the footpaths carrying video, and still cameras.

Never one to miss an opportunity I grabbed my still camera. I took about 50 shots and uploaded them onto the net. Needless to say this was just the start of my photographic opportunities involving the Williams criminal clan. (Go to Webshots, username Trevor Dunen- I have had over 7000 views from my various photos of the Williams family including Carl Williams funeral which i attended. He was buried in a gold plated brass coffin)!

Eventually they carted Barbara Williams body out on a covered stretcher. It seems she had killed herself by taking an overdose of sleeping pills. It was apparent that she could no longer go on living, now that her two sons were gone.

Carl’s younger brother died of a heroin overdose years before, and Carl was never to be released from Barwon maximum security Prison near Geelong. He was incarcerated in the Special handling unit, a prison within a prison, for his own protection, with two so called mates, Tommy Ivanovic and Matthew Johnson, who eventually murdered him. You see Carl had become a police informer.

Because Barbara died, Carl’s estranged wife, Roberta moved into the house. She had just released her biography, so I went over to have a chat with her. She was amicable enough and quite garrulous. She promised me a signed copy of her book, which I never ever got.

I used to keep an eye on the house to see what was going on, and it was quite apparent that Roberta was dealing drugs. Every few weeks a heap of late model Mercedes Benz and BMW cars would park out the front. The young men driving them were wearing designer shorts, and singlets, as well as gold chains and tattoos all over their muscular bodies.

They would stroll up and down the footpath out of the front of the house, talking animatedly on their mobile phones, and then they would be gone, obviously having taken possession of their speed or ecstasy or dope.

On the 19^th of April, 2010 I walked out the front of the house and again the street was filled with police and reporters. It seems Carl had been murdered in prison. The press began knocking at my door, asking if I knew where Roberta Williams was. I didn’t know and told them so. I got the camera out again snapped off about fifty shots, then took off down the local milk bar to get the paper. Next door to the milk bar was a ladies hairdresser, but strangely they were closed and all the blinds were drawn.

When I greeted the milk bar proprietor, he informed me that Roberta was next door in the hairdressers having her hair done so she would look good for the press!! How egotistical. Still a good criminal like Roberta has to keep her appearances up or the public will talk. Ha Ha Ha!

Knowing where Roberta was I decided to tease the press. I went back to where they all were like a gaggle of geese on the footpath outside Roberta’s house and they totally ignored me. That is until I told them I knew where Roberta was.

They were in total disbelief, and they begged me to tell them where. I jokingly asked them to hit me with a $1000 and I would spill the beans. Amazingly they all started reaching for their wallets and purses hurriedly to get the cash together. I told them to settle down and gave them the information they wanted gratis. They asked me if the hairdressers had a back lane entry and when I said no they all scurried off down the road to get their stories.

Days later I went to Carls Funeral. It was bizarre but I took the opportunity to snap the whole occasion on my trusty digital camera and the rest is history. I have since move to Geraldton West Australia but Roberta still lives there.