Night Stalker

There are times when I wish I was one of those hot-dog citizen journalists, free to roam around like Carl Kolchak, asking private citizens all kinds of impertinent questions. If I were, I'd be riding the train down to Geelong, to speak to Mr. Graeme Angus.

Mr. Angus published a letter in the Age today (online link has expired), telling the story of an unnamed friend of his, a serious amateur photographer who recently took some sunset shots of Geelong's Shell Oil Refinery on Corio Bay. According to Mr. Angus, this friend was visited at 9.30 that same evening by two "policemen", who questioned him about his photography, cautioned him not to photograph the refinery in future, and to pass this advice on to the other members of his camera club.

By now, your BS detector is probably going wild. When people set out to tell stories like this, I do wish they would, as a courtesy to the rest of us, workshop them a bit more, before launching them on the letters page.

Since this chap wasn't nabbed on the spot, there presumably weren't any spooks or cops on the beach. In which case, how did the "policemen" who came to his house know who he was and where to find him? Spy satellites, no doubt. Or maybe that GPS tracking device located in all cameras - you mean you didn't know? And no doubt the editor of the Age will be getting an evening visit at his home from more of those "policemen", as they have published an aerial view of the facility on their website.

This is not the first time someone has tried to tell me a story like this, and my answer is always the same: in the present climate, there are any number of media outlets and public paladins who would be all over this story like Oprah on a baked ham. So take it to them: take it to Kerry O'Brien or George Negus. Take it to Radio National. Take it to the Greens or Democrats. Of course this never happens, and it isn't because of Howard's sedition laws. I'll happily bet my favourite Christmas present that the Age conducts absolutely no journalistic follow-up on this story.

Update: something about that letter niggled at me. It was the overly precise detail, when all else was swallowed in surmise, of the time when the "police" called on Mr. Angus' friend - 9:30pm, we are told. All I can say is, those spooks don't waste time. According to the letter, the sunset photos were being taken 'shortly before Christmas' - so let's say about a week ago. In this part of the world, sunset is currently around 8.45, and twilight lasts until about 9.30. So this chap barely had time to get home before the mysteriously well-informed "policemen" showed up. That 9:30 time-stamp is starting to look very much like what Pooh-Bah calls "corroborative detail, intended to lend verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative."