The downfall of a drug racket: An underworld drama
Soon it was obvious that Hafner was a bigger fish than first thought.
Hafner had form, not so much in his criminal records but in his associates, including the notorious Tony Mokbel.
Act One, Scene Two: A bizarre claim in the County Court
In 2007, Hafner went to the County Court to argue that a house in Bulleen that had been seized as part of Tony's impressive real estate portfolio was, in fact, his.
He explained that the house had been given to him by his generous grandmother and had somehow been scooped up as part of Mokbel's $55 million asset portfolio.
An honest (well dishonest) mistake, he told the County Court.
Hafner, you see, was going through a difficult divorce, and he wanted to make sure his partner could not get her hands on half the title.
'My words were that basically I was having domestics with my missus and, basically, I don't know what to do with my grandmother's house, and we ... came to the conclusion that I'd sign it over to him,' he said.
The ever-helpful Tony was happy to oblige.
Of course, Mokbel was not in a position to corroborate his mate because at that time he was sitting in a Greek cell having sailed away from Australia on the yacht, Edwena.
Unfortunately, an argumentative lawyer for the prosecution suggested Hafner had handed over the house because he owed Mokbel $360,000 and the property was a square-off.
The house was valued about $500,000 at the time, and on June 15, 2001, National Australia Bank records show the house was transferred to Tony, who forgave a $320,000 debt and in return transferred $50,000 to Hafner. Mokbel even paid the $17,000 stamp duty to make it all above board.
A detective who worked on the Mokbel case said: 'Tony was the biggest dealer in town, and Darren owed him money from a drug debt. When he couldn't pay, Tony said, 'What have you got?' and that's why he signed over his grandmother's house.'
But every cloud has a silver lining, and when the seized house was sold on July 12, 2008, it fetched $625,000, which went to the State Revenue Office.
Hafner's story, unlike the Edwena, sank without trace. County Court judge Michael McInerney dismissed the case, adding: 'I do not accept [Hafner] as a credible or reliable witness.'
Mokbel could afford to be generous because the Hafner debt was chump change.
The suburban pizza shop owner, who police described on his file as 'lacking financial acumen', was now flying.
By 2000, he was planning to build an $18 million, 10-storey 'winged keel' apartment tower over Sydney Road. The plan was to build 120 apartments and townhouses, offices, restaurants, a gym with pool and a four-storey car park on the old Whelan the Wrecker site. No one seemed to wonder how he could generate that sort of money.
He was also developing 10 units in Templestowe, which he planned to sell for $300,000 each. In 2000, he owned the Brunswick market site and claimed to make $500,000 a year in rent money.
His business portfolio was admirably diverse, including investments in shops, cafes, fashion houses, fragrances, restaurants, hotels, nightclubs and land in regional Victoria. He and his companies owned two white vans, two Commodores, a red Audi, a 2000 silver Mercedes, a Nissan Skyline and a red Ferrari Roadster, which he bought in September 1999. He even managed to give his wife a Kilmore pub as part of the family businesses. One of his fashion houses was appropriately named LSD – apparently an abbreviation for Love of Style and Design.
His social network was also varied. It included an MP, a tame bank manager, a bent accountant, a newsagent who gratefully accepted $20,000 a week that Tony invested in Tattslotto, seven jockeys and trainers, and a handful of bookies.
One jockey, who was in Mokbel's car when the drug dealer had a fender-bender with a tradie near the State Library, showed his athletic prowess, opening the door and making a dash for the shadows while a contrite Tony apologised and exchanged details with the second driver.
One bookie opened a ghost betting account allowing Mokbel to punt under another name. In one week during the 2002 spring racing carnival, the account turned over $445,000. To Tony, it was just pocket money. The bets were made just weeks after Mokbel was finally granted $1 million bail on the serious drugs charges.
When one bookie came to collect $80,000 at Tony's Port Melbourne home, they walked to Mokbel's car, where he opened the glove box. While forward-thinking motorists might have a roll of coins for parking meters, the bookie estimated the wad of stashed cash was 'at least $300,000'.
Loading
You might think that having lost a house to Mokbel, Hafner would have sought an alternative income stream. But he was nothing if not persistent.
He did branch out, receiving workers' compensation for several years, doing cash jobs on the side (despite a bad back), then going on the dole for 10 years while selling drugs and using stolen credit cards in a fraud ring.
In 10 court hearings he collected 36 convictions.
Act Two, Scene One: The Fawkner cops get the green light
The Fawkner detectives built up a case and went to their bosses, and it was at that point Operation Manic was established.
Hafner was followed around the state, and soon a case was built that he was the middleman in an international syndicate. Federal police tracked three shipments of pure pseudoephedrine, the key ingredient in speed, flown into Australia from Malaysia, India and Dubai, and identified two other key members, Sarah Baines and Abdul Diallo.
At one point, police tracked the crew to a Thomastown service station, where they were to buy a kilogram of speed for $165,000. But, in a familiar story in a drug business that is riddled with rip-offs and no-shows, after the initial meeting, the deal fell through.
By September, police had enough to move in and arrest the three.
The finale: Courtroom justice
If everyone has 15 minutes of fame, Baines, 33, must be truly annoyed at how she used hers. When she appeared in court as part of Hafner's syndicate, the Herald Sun wrote: 'A Melbourne party girl who peddled dildos for a living is down on her luck after she was accused of running a high-end drug-trafficking racket.'
At court, it was found she had worked in a retail sex shop and ran a cleaning service, and in prison had become an unofficial carer for a disabled inmate.
She had been using drugs from her early 20s, and when police raided her Southbank apartment they found evidence of drug transactions, and of the drug, 1,4-butanedoil.
Diallo, the court was told, was an African leader in the community, having arrived in Australia as a young refugee from Sierra Leone after his father was murdered.
Hafner had been examined in prison. Quoting the psychological report, the judge said: 'You looked and sounded despondent and depressed. You presented as being at least moderately depressed and mildly anxious.'
Little wonder when you are looking at a long stretch and could well die in jail
When it came to sentencing, no one was spared.
County Court judge Richard Maidment gave Diallo 12 years with a minimum of eight years and eight months, while Hafner was sentenced to 12 years with a minimum of eight years and four months.
Baines received 11 years with a minimum of seven.
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Sydney Morning Herald
9 hours ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
The downfall of a drug racket: An underworld drama
Soon it was obvious that Hafner was a bigger fish than first thought. Hafner had form, not so much in his criminal records but in his associates, including the notorious Tony Mokbel. Act One, Scene Two: A bizarre claim in the County Court In 2007, Hafner went to the County Court to argue that a house in Bulleen that had been seized as part of Tony's impressive real estate portfolio was, in fact, his. He explained that the house had been given to him by his generous grandmother and had somehow been scooped up as part of Mokbel's $55 million asset portfolio. An honest (well dishonest) mistake, he told the County Court. Hafner, you see, was going through a difficult divorce, and he wanted to make sure his partner could not get her hands on half the title. 'My words were that basically I was having domestics with my missus and, basically, I don't know what to do with my grandmother's house, and we ... came to the conclusion that I'd sign it over to him,' he said. The ever-helpful Tony was happy to oblige. Of course, Mokbel was not in a position to corroborate his mate because at that time he was sitting in a Greek cell having sailed away from Australia on the yacht, Edwena. Unfortunately, an argumentative lawyer for the prosecution suggested Hafner had handed over the house because he owed Mokbel $360,000 and the property was a square-off. The house was valued about $500,000 at the time, and on June 15, 2001, National Australia Bank records show the house was transferred to Tony, who forgave a $320,000 debt and in return transferred $50,000 to Hafner. Mokbel even paid the $17,000 stamp duty to make it all above board. A detective who worked on the Mokbel case said: 'Tony was the biggest dealer in town, and Darren owed him money from a drug debt. When he couldn't pay, Tony said, 'What have you got?' and that's why he signed over his grandmother's house.' But every cloud has a silver lining, and when the seized house was sold on July 12, 2008, it fetched $625,000, which went to the State Revenue Office. Hafner's story, unlike the Edwena, sank without trace. County Court judge Michael McInerney dismissed the case, adding: 'I do not accept [Hafner] as a credible or reliable witness.' Mokbel could afford to be generous because the Hafner debt was chump change. The suburban pizza shop owner, who police described on his file as 'lacking financial acumen', was now flying. By 2000, he was planning to build an $18 million, 10-storey 'winged keel' apartment tower over Sydney Road. The plan was to build 120 apartments and townhouses, offices, restaurants, a gym with pool and a four-storey car park on the old Whelan the Wrecker site. No one seemed to wonder how he could generate that sort of money. He was also developing 10 units in Templestowe, which he planned to sell for $300,000 each. In 2000, he owned the Brunswick market site and claimed to make $500,000 a year in rent money. His business portfolio was admirably diverse, including investments in shops, cafes, fashion houses, fragrances, restaurants, hotels, nightclubs and land in regional Victoria. He and his companies owned two white vans, two Commodores, a red Audi, a 2000 silver Mercedes, a Nissan Skyline and a red Ferrari Roadster, which he bought in September 1999. He even managed to give his wife a Kilmore pub as part of the family businesses. One of his fashion houses was appropriately named LSD – apparently an abbreviation for Love of Style and Design. His social network was also varied. It included an MP, a tame bank manager, a bent accountant, a newsagent who gratefully accepted $20,000 a week that Tony invested in Tattslotto, seven jockeys and trainers, and a handful of bookies. One jockey, who was in Mokbel's car when the drug dealer had a fender-bender with a tradie near the State Library, showed his athletic prowess, opening the door and making a dash for the shadows while a contrite Tony apologised and exchanged details with the second driver. One bookie opened a ghost betting account allowing Mokbel to punt under another name. In one week during the 2002 spring racing carnival, the account turned over $445,000. To Tony, it was just pocket money. The bets were made just weeks after Mokbel was finally granted $1 million bail on the serious drugs charges. When one bookie came to collect $80,000 at Tony's Port Melbourne home, they walked to Mokbel's car, where he opened the glove box. While forward-thinking motorists might have a roll of coins for parking meters, the bookie estimated the wad of stashed cash was 'at least $300,000'. Loading You might think that having lost a house to Mokbel, Hafner would have sought an alternative income stream. But he was nothing if not persistent. He did branch out, receiving workers' compensation for several years, doing cash jobs on the side (despite a bad back), then going on the dole for 10 years while selling drugs and using stolen credit cards in a fraud ring. In 10 court hearings he collected 36 convictions. Act Two, Scene One: The Fawkner cops get the green light The Fawkner detectives built up a case and went to their bosses, and it was at that point Operation Manic was established. Hafner was followed around the state, and soon a case was built that he was the middleman in an international syndicate. Federal police tracked three shipments of pure pseudoephedrine, the key ingredient in speed, flown into Australia from Malaysia, India and Dubai, and identified two other key members, Sarah Baines and Abdul Diallo. At one point, police tracked the crew to a Thomastown service station, where they were to buy a kilogram of speed for $165,000. But, in a familiar story in a drug business that is riddled with rip-offs and no-shows, after the initial meeting, the deal fell through. By September, police had enough to move in and arrest the three. The finale: Courtroom justice If everyone has 15 minutes of fame, Baines, 33, must be truly annoyed at how she used hers. When she appeared in court as part of Hafner's syndicate, the Herald Sun wrote: 'A Melbourne party girl who peddled dildos for a living is down on her luck after she was accused of running a high-end drug-trafficking racket.' At court, it was found she had worked in a retail sex shop and ran a cleaning service, and in prison had become an unofficial carer for a disabled inmate. She had been using drugs from her early 20s, and when police raided her Southbank apartment they found evidence of drug transactions, and of the drug, 1,4-butanedoil. Diallo, the court was told, was an African leader in the community, having arrived in Australia as a young refugee from Sierra Leone after his father was murdered. Hafner had been examined in prison. Quoting the psychological report, the judge said: 'You looked and sounded despondent and depressed. You presented as being at least moderately depressed and mildly anxious.' Little wonder when you are looking at a long stretch and could well die in jail When it came to sentencing, no one was spared. County Court judge Richard Maidment gave Diallo 12 years with a minimum of eight years and eight months, while Hafner was sentenced to 12 years with a minimum of eight years and four months. Baines received 11 years with a minimum of seven.
The Age
9 hours ago
- The Age
The downfall of a drug racket: An underworld drama
Soon it was obvious that Hafner was a bigger fish than first thought. Hafner had form, not so much in his criminal records but in his associates, including the notorious Tony Mokbel. Act One, Scene Two: A bizarre claim in the County Court In 2007, Hafner went to the County Court to argue that a house in Bulleen that had been seized as part of Tony's impressive real estate portfolio was, in fact, his. He explained that the house had been given to him by his generous grandmother and had somehow been scooped up as part of Mokbel's $55 million asset portfolio. An honest (well dishonest) mistake, he told the County Court. Hafner, you see, was going through a difficult divorce, and he wanted to make sure his partner could not get her hands on half the title. 'My words were that basically I was having domestics with my missus and, basically, I don't know what to do with my grandmother's house, and we ... came to the conclusion that I'd sign it over to him,' he said. The ever-helpful Tony was happy to oblige. Of course, Mokbel was not in a position to corroborate his mate because at that time he was sitting in a Greek cell having sailed away from Australia on the yacht, Edwena. Unfortunately, an argumentative lawyer for the prosecution suggested Hafner had handed over the house because he owed Mokbel $360,000 and the property was a square-off. The house was valued about $500,000 at the time, and on June 15, 2001, National Australia Bank records show the house was transferred to Tony, who forgave a $320,000 debt and in return transferred $50,000 to Hafner. Mokbel even paid the $17,000 stamp duty to make it all above board. A detective who worked on the Mokbel case said: 'Tony was the biggest dealer in town, and Darren owed him money from a drug debt. When he couldn't pay, Tony said, 'What have you got?' and that's why he signed over his grandmother's house.' But every cloud has a silver lining, and when the seized house was sold on July 12, 2008, it fetched $625,000, which went to the State Revenue Office. Hafner's story, unlike the Edwena, sank without trace. County Court judge Michael McInerney dismissed the case, adding: 'I do not accept [Hafner] as a credible or reliable witness.' Mokbel could afford to be generous because the Hafner debt was chump change. The suburban pizza shop owner, who police described on his file as 'lacking financial acumen', was now flying. By 2000, he was planning to build an $18 million, 10-storey 'winged keel' apartment tower over Sydney Road. The plan was to build 120 apartments and townhouses, offices, restaurants, a gym with pool and a four-storey car park on the old Whelan the Wrecker site. No one seemed to wonder how he could generate that sort of money. He was also developing 10 units in Templestowe, which he planned to sell for $300,000 each. In 2000, he owned the Brunswick market site and claimed to make $500,000 a year in rent money. His business portfolio was admirably diverse, including investments in shops, cafes, fashion houses, fragrances, restaurants, hotels, nightclubs and land in regional Victoria. He and his companies owned two white vans, two Commodores, a red Audi, a 2000 silver Mercedes, a Nissan Skyline and a red Ferrari Roadster, which he bought in September 1999. He even managed to give his wife a Kilmore pub as part of the family businesses. One of his fashion houses was appropriately named LSD – apparently an abbreviation for Love of Style and Design. His social network was also varied. It included an MP, a tame bank manager, a bent accountant, a newsagent who gratefully accepted $20,000 a week that Tony invested in Tattslotto, seven jockeys and trainers, and a handful of bookies. One jockey, who was in Mokbel's car when the drug dealer had a fender-bender with a tradie near the State Library, showed his athletic prowess, opening the door and making a dash for the shadows while a contrite Tony apologised and exchanged details with the second driver. One bookie opened a ghost betting account allowing Mokbel to punt under another name. In one week during the 2002 spring racing carnival, the account turned over $445,000. To Tony, it was just pocket money. The bets were made just weeks after Mokbel was finally granted $1 million bail on the serious drugs charges. When one bookie came to collect $80,000 at Tony's Port Melbourne home, they walked to Mokbel's car, where he opened the glove box. While forward-thinking motorists might have a roll of coins for parking meters, the bookie estimated the wad of stashed cash was 'at least $300,000'. Loading You might think that having lost a house to Mokbel, Hafner would have sought an alternative income stream. But he was nothing if not persistent. He did branch out, receiving workers' compensation for several years, doing cash jobs on the side (despite a bad back), then going on the dole for 10 years while selling drugs and using stolen credit cards in a fraud ring. In 10 court hearings he collected 36 convictions. Act Two, Scene One: The Fawkner cops get the green light The Fawkner detectives built up a case and went to their bosses, and it was at that point Operation Manic was established. Hafner was followed around the state, and soon a case was built that he was the middleman in an international syndicate. Federal police tracked three shipments of pure pseudoephedrine, the key ingredient in speed, flown into Australia from Malaysia, India and Dubai, and identified two other key members, Sarah Baines and Abdul Diallo. At one point, police tracked the crew to a Thomastown service station, where they were to buy a kilogram of speed for $165,000. But, in a familiar story in a drug business that is riddled with rip-offs and no-shows, after the initial meeting, the deal fell through. By September, police had enough to move in and arrest the three. The finale: Courtroom justice If everyone has 15 minutes of fame, Baines, 33, must be truly annoyed at how she used hers. When she appeared in court as part of Hafner's syndicate, the Herald Sun wrote: 'A Melbourne party girl who peddled dildos for a living is down on her luck after she was accused of running a high-end drug-trafficking racket.' At court, it was found she had worked in a retail sex shop and ran a cleaning service, and in prison had become an unofficial carer for a disabled inmate. She had been using drugs from her early 20s, and when police raided her Southbank apartment they found evidence of drug transactions, and of the drug, 1,4-butanedoil. Diallo, the court was told, was an African leader in the community, having arrived in Australia as a young refugee from Sierra Leone after his father was murdered. Hafner had been examined in prison. Quoting the psychological report, the judge said: 'You looked and sounded despondent and depressed. You presented as being at least moderately depressed and mildly anxious.' Little wonder when you are looking at a long stretch and could well die in jail When it came to sentencing, no one was spared. County Court judge Richard Maidment gave Diallo 12 years with a minimum of eight years and eight months, while Hafner was sentenced to 12 years with a minimum of eight years and four months. Baines received 11 years with a minimum of seven.
News.com.au
11 hours ago
- News.com.au
National Australia Bank fined over data-sharing scheme
One of Australia's big four banks has been fined more than $750,000 over the use of data in an economy-wide system. The National Australia Bank was issued infringement notices by the competition watchdog over breaches of data rules. NAB has avoided admitting to breaking the rules but has now paid the $751,200 fine over the four breaches. The issue stems from NAB's interactions with the economy-wide Consumer Data Right (CDR) data sharing scheme. 'Poor data quality prevents consumers from experiencing the full benefits of the CDR,' Australian Competition and Consumer Commission deputy chair Catriona Lowe said. 'When banks or energy retailers don't provide accurate data, consumers can't take advantage of CDR products and services to compare products, find better deals, manage their finances or make informed decisions about product switching.' The bank co-operated with the consumer watchdog's inquiry and has rectified the issues. The Consumer Data Right gives consumers the right for their data to be safely transferred between data holders and accredited persons, making price comparisons based on up-to-date and correct data easier. The system began in the banking sector in mid-2020 and for energy retailers in late-2022. In the second half of 2024, 530,000 people used the system for a total of 582 million data requests. In mid-2026, non-bank lenders will become part of the system. Ms Lowe said the banks had several years to understand their CDR obligations. NAB's breaches relate to disclosure or accurate disclosure of credit limit data to different CDR providers on behalf of consumers. 'NAB has made a significant investment to deliver the complex CDR requirements as well as investing resources to develop our capabilities to deliver new innovations,' a NAB spokesperson said. 'We have fully co-operated with the ACCC's review and have resolved the data quality error identified. 'We appreciate and recognise the importance of ensuring we are meeting the standards necessary and expected under the regulations.'
