When the sounds of a violent, hateful crime broke a country town’s night silence last year, off-duty city policeman Bob Stewart swung into action.
Bob Stewart never expected to witness a killing when he settled in
at a riverside caravan park for some leisure time with his wife and
daughters. But, soon after night fell on his first day in the idyllic
River Murray setting, he heard yelling voices and deathly thuds.
From the commotion, just off the southern riverbank only 50 metres
from his caravan site, Stewart knew someone was at least “being seriously
assaulted”.
Later, he would discover that he had actually heard the last cries
of man savagely beaten with an oar before drowning. But, now, the
burley, seasoned street cop and PASA delegate felt he had to investigate.
So, Stewart, then 41, picked up a torch and, in the pitch black of
a humid January evening at Renmark’s Riverfront Caravan Park, headed
toward the river.
“It sounded as if someone was really getting cracked with something,”
he says, “a cricket bat or a baseball bat. It sounded pretty severe.
“Mr Furniss (the victim) was calling out for Ben, his son. Ben was
staying at a campsite a bit further east of us. He must have got over
there (to his father) earlier.”
Stewart, on his way
to the river, saw a woman heading in the same direction. She, too,
had heard the commotion and decided to investigate. Stewart asked
her if she knew what was happening. She said it sounded as if “someone’s
getting a flogging”.
Just when Stewart had almost reached the river’s edge, he noticed
a solidly-built man of about 30 walking toward him. Steven Alan Angus,
heavily tattooed and dressed in only shorts and sports shoes, had
a bleeding gash above his left eye.
Stewart then looked to the river and saw Ben Furniss with only his
head above the water. The young man, a few metres out from the bank
near his family’s aluminium dinghy, was desperately calling out: “Dad,
Dad!”
Angus, it would emerge, had tried to steal the dinghy, and beaten
59-year-old Nicholas Furniss with the oar when he tried to stop him.
Ben Furniss, 15, took a blow from the oar-wielding Angus as well.
But with the ever-vigilant Stewart on the scene, Angus would never
disappear quietly into the night and, ultimately, escape justice.
“I thought it was strange,” says the Parks-based senior constable.
“He was agitated, shaken and wringing wet. And he was the only bloke
walking away, when everyone else was walking to it (the river). A
lot of other people had made their way from close-by campsites.”
So, suspecting that Angus had “cracked someone”, Stewart asked him
what had happened. The attacker blurted out an ill-conceived lie about
an argument over crab pots. But his bid to fool the clear-thinking
Stewart – who knew of no such pots – proved fruitless.
“He kept walking away,” says Stewart, “so, I said: ‘Hang on, mate,
I want to have a word’. Then, he started to run. I thought: ‘Here
we go!’
“I called out to him a couple of times to stop but, the more I was
calling out, the faster he was going.”
Angus headed toward
scrub at the eastern end of the caravan park, as Stewart – with only
thongs for footwear – gave chase, but eventually lost sight of him.
Undeterred, Stewart, too, ventured into the scrub. And, as he searched,
with only the aid of torchlight under an overcast sky, he could hear
the sound of cracking twigs. It seemed that, with his footsteps, Angus
had given his pursuer an advantage.
Stewart continued his search, but in the direction of the sound.
For around a minute, he saw nothing. But, then, in the light of his
torch, he spotted Angus peering out from behind a log.
Stewart approached him, and again asked: “What’s going on, mate?”
Angus, lying on his back, uttered the same line about crab pots. So,
now, Stewart asked him to go back to the scene and “sort it out”.
When Angus refused, Stewart helped him to his feet and identified
himself as a police officer. Then, in a highly dangerous move without
back-up or communication, he warned him that, if he did not return
willingly, he would arrest him.
In an instant, Angus hurled a barrage of expletives at Stewart and
shaped up ready to box. “He threw one at me,” says Stewart, “and I
dodged under that. Then, I just pushed him backwards, and he fell
onto his back.
“I landed on top of him, sat astride his torso and tried to restrain
his arms. He punched me twice to my left temple with his clenched
fist. It (the force) knocked my head to the side. I punched him once
to his face with my fist, and he stopped hitting me.”
Stewart again helped Angus to his feet, and started to escort him
on a walk of 300-odd metres back to the scene. Angus, not handcuffed
and capable of a sudden move against Stewart, stayed compliant.
But his mood changed when the pair finally reached a waiting police
patrol back at the scene, 15 minutes after the chase began.
“He started to struggle and was spitting and bleeding,” says Stewart.
“Bill Gardner (one of the patrol officers) got the cuffs out and went
to put them on, and he (Angus) really started to arc up.”
Just then, Shadow Police Minister Robert Brokenshire – who happened
to be vacationing at the caravan park – stepped in to give Stewart
some help. In an unlikely partnership, the pair managed to get Angus
handcuffed.
“Once he was handcuffed, I just held him against the police car,”
says Brokenshire. “I found him very threatening, aggressive, and not
caring at all about what had occurred.
“He also called us dogs, and said: ‘I’m going to vomit in your police
car’. The window was down, so I dragged him to the back of the car
so he couldn’t do that.”
Meanwhile, with Angus finally in police custody amid a growing crowd
of holidaymakers, Stewart went to search for the now missing Furniss.
But his body remained undiscovered, until Water Operations officers
attended early the next morning.
Stewart went on to prepare notes of the incident, and take photographs
of the scene of the chase.
Today, he concedes he was never prepared to wait for back-up before
he undertook the chase and search, but rightly reflects on his actions
with no regret.
“Because,” he says, “if something had happened, and we didn’t find
him, well... we were never going to find him. I think, all too often,
people aren’t prepared to take any initiative these days.”
And the views of others confirm that Stewart is right to feel comfortable
with his actions. Shadow Minister Brokenshire speaks of the veteran
officer as taking his skills and commitment to duty “right to the
fullest extent”.
“It was one of the finest examples of police work that I’ve witnessed
in the years that I’ve had the privilege of being either minister
or shadow minister,” he says.
To Police Association president, Peter Alexander, Stewart’s actions
came as no surprise. “The way Bob reacted in those circumstances was
typical,” he says. “He really is a role model, and a bloke like him
makes you feel good about being in the police force.”
But Stewart’s beyond-the-call-of-duty effort was not a first for
him. In April 2001, he saved a 15-month-old boy from a Croydon Park
house fire. For his courage, he received a Police Bravery Medal.
And, for his equally courageous off-duty arrest of Angus, Brokenshire
and former Riverland LSA boss, Superintendent Bronwyn Killmier, recommended
Stewart for another award.
At a Fort Largs graduation ceremony on April 21, Commissioner Mal
Hyde presented him with a certificate of merit.
Stewart’s involvement in two such mettle-testing incidents in just
22 months might surprise some. “Things happen to some people, and
not to others,” he says. “But, I’m sure that, if they did happen to
others, they’d do the same thing I did.”
• Angus pleaded guilty in the Supreme
Court last February to the manslaughter of Nicholas Furniss, and the
assault occasioning actual bodily harm of Ben Furniss.