STATEMENT OF IAN LESLIE SHANAHAN

{1} My full name is IAN LESLIE SHANAHAN.

{2} I reside at 57 Yates Avenue, Dundas Valley NSW 2117.

{3} I am a highly trained classical musician and a composer of modern art-music. I hold both
undergraduate and postgraduate degrees in music, including a Doctorate of Philosophy. I have
for many years been a Lecturer and Tutor in several music subjects within various universities,
music schools and conservatoria within New South Wales, although I do not hold any such
position at the moment.

{4} I am a single man, and reside with my widowed mother at her home at the above
address.

{5} On the evening of Friday 23 September 2005, I ate a chicken laksa and some sweets for
dinner. I went to bed at around 10.00 pm only to be woken from a sound sleep a little after
11.00 pm by very loud music and carousing originating from a neighbours flat. (The same
racket also woke my elderly mother.) I put on some clothes described in full below and went
next door to put a stop to this illegal noise pollution. The neighbour responsible, a young female
named Rose [surname unknown] and her female companion, I had never spoken to before; I
asked Rose: Could you either shut your front door or turn the volume down; the sound is
bouncing off the shop-front across the road directly into my bedroom, and has woken up my
elderly mother as well as myself. I was then immediately subjected to a torrent of verbal abuse
from her (such as being called convict-descended scum), so, without losing my temper
outwardly, I let her know that I would be in touch with the Housing Commission authorities first
thing the following Monday. I then promptly returned to my home.

{6} This exchange left me in a very angry frame of mind, so I decided to go out i.e. to drive
my Ford Fairlane (NSW license WYB 577) to Palm Beach in order to calm down, lest I were
to go back next door, have rather more to say to Rose, and thereby cause the conflict to
escalate. I took 2 bottles of Cascade Premium beer from my refrigerator (that being all of the
alcohol therein) to drink at the beach. The clothes I was wearing were: a mid-blue Penguin t-
shirt with collar, light grey cargo shorts (mid-thigh length), grey socks, and an old pair of ill-fitting
slippers (which have a tendency to slip off unexpectedly at the heels, on account of muscle
atrophy to my feet caused by neuropathy resulting from Type 2 Diabetes). My estimated time of

~1~
arrival at Palm Beach was no later than 11.45 pm.

{7} I sat alone on a park bench next to the beach, praying and enjoying the wonderful view,
only occasionally sipping the beer I brought with me. After quite a long time being there (2
hours approximately), I finally consumed the remaining 2 mouthfuls of beer, waited a couple
more minutes, and then departed in my car driving along Ocean Road and Barrenjoey Road,
towards home. Until I was pulled over by the Police, I am certain that at no time did I exceed the
60 kmh speed limit, as I was routinely checking my cars speedometer.

{8} As I was heading South through the shopping centre at Newport (after quite a long
stretch of winding road), I noted that my car was the only vehicle proceeding along Barrenjoey
Road. From the Northernmost point of the shopping centre, Barrenjoey Road expands into 3
lanes in each direction; I was driving in the rightmost lane (next to the median strip). When I
reached the traffic lights just beyond the Newport shopping centre at the intersection of
Barrenjoey Road, The Boulevard (on my left) and Seaview Avenue (on my right) the traffic
lights were green and there were no other vehicles waiting at this intersection for the lights to
change, either on The Boulevard or Seaview Avenue; nor were there any other vehicles further
South on Barrenjoey Road as far as the eye could see, right up to the next set of traffic lights.
As I drove through the intersection itself, which bends slightly to the left, I smoothly changed
lanes into the middle lane (it being my intention to buy a small amount of food from the BP
service station further down Barrenjoey Road on the left, at Mona Vale).

{9} From this point onwards for approximately 700 metres, Barrenjoey Road is very straight,
rising with a constant and quite steep incline, right up until the next traffic-lighted intersection
(the cross-street here being Beaconsfield Street, on the right) at the top of the hill. When I was
about 400 metres up this hill, I glanced in my rear-vision mirror and noticed another car waiting
at the lights on Seaview Avenue. Shortly thereafter (i.e. the next time I happened to look at my
rear-vision mirror, several seconds later), I saw that the traffic lights had just then changed, that
this car had turned South into Barrenjoey Road, and that it was proceeding up the hill in my
direction. I continued along no faster than 60 kmh, driving through the intersection of
Barrenjoey Road and Beaconsfield Street, shortly after which this other car was to my
surprise travelling only a few metres behind me. At the time, I did not realize that it was a
Police car, but then its flashing lights were activated (I could not tell whether or not its sirens
were also activated, since there was some rather loud symphonic music playing on my cars
radio at that moment), and I immediately pulled over into the leftmost lane, next to the kerb.
Looking carefully into my rear-view mirror, I then ascertained that this car was in fact a marked

~2~
Police vehicle, so I stopped my car just opposite the intersection of Barrenjoey Road and The
Avenue (on my right). The Police car parked just behind mine.

{10} I put my cars gears into Park, turned off its motor and headlights, unbuckled my
seatbelt, opened the drivers door, thence hauled myself out of my vehicle (as is my usual
practice whenever being pulled over by the Police). Unfortunately, I nearly tripped over almost
at once: my left slipper had come off my foot at the heel and turned rightwards (this went
unnoticed beforehand due to my neuropathy), causing me to stumble markedly when without
warning my left heel came into direct contact with the asphalt and my weakened left knee gave
way. Fortunately, I soon recovered my comportment and continued walking towards the rear of
my car, stopping in front of the Police car between the two vehicles, towards the drivers side.

{11} By this time, two Police officers a female (the Police cars driver) and a male (who was
seated in its front passengers seat) had alighted from their vehicle. Both were wearing Police
uniforms. I later established that they are Senior Constable Kylie BOSS and Constable Daniel
FLUECHTER, respectively. BOSS and FLUECHTER came around to the front of their car, and
at first we conversed there. BOSS was standing directly in front of me; FLUECHTER on my
right, about 3 metres away.

{12} I asked both officers in a slightly annoyed tone why I had been stopped (given that I had
not broken any laws), to which BOSS replied along the lines of: You have been pulled over for
a random breath test. She then asked to see my licence, so I took it out of my wallet from my t-
shirts pocket and handed it over to her.

{13} BOSS then asked me whether I had consumed any alcohol that evening, and I said that
I had drunk a couple of beers referring to the 2 bottles of Cascade Premium mentioned
earlier.

{14} BOSS enquired as to when I had finished drinking these. Now because I never wear a
watch (and my cars clock is broken), I answered that on these grounds I could not provide an
accurate answer to her question. She invited me to guess, so I said that it could not have been
more than 15 minutes ago, perhaps closer to 10 [minutes].

{15} BOSS then produced a breathalyser and asked me in a formal, legalistic manner to
blow into it. I complied with her request. She then told me that I had registered a reading over
the 0.05 legal limit and hence was under arrest. In light of the small amount of alcohol I had
consumed over a fair amount of time (as well as the fact that I am a large man who had eaten a
substantial dinner), I simply could not believe that such a reading was correct hence I asked

~3~
to be allowed to verify the reading for myself by seeing it on the breathalyser machine itself;
BOSS refused this (to my mind reasonable) request. FLUECHTER, who had remained some
distance to my right throughout this discourse, then told me (for supposed safety reasons) to
step off the road and onto the footpath. All three of us then moved onto the grass nature-strip
area.

{16} Given the short duration (ca.1015 minutes) between my finishing off the beer at Palm
Beach and blowing into the breathalyser at Newport, and the fact that I could still taste the
Cascade beer in my mouth (so that my palate had not cleared at all), I suspected that these
factors might account for a breathalyser reading greater than 0.05 if indeed that were the
case. So I then told both officers that I would be opting to see a doctor in order to determine my
actual blood-alcohol level via a blood sample, instead of submitting to a formal breath analysis
at their Police Station. I also let both of them know, for my medical safety, that I suffer from
Type 2 Diabetes complicated by ongoing Hyperglycaemia (i.e. excessively elevated blood-sugar
levels).

{17} The Police then invited me to secure my car, so I walked over to its front passengers
door both officers I sensed were following just behind me. I opened this car door, leaned in,
removed my wallet from my t-shirts pocket, took a $50 note from the wallet, put this $50 note in
my t-shirt pocket (to pay for my return travel from the Police Station), opened my cars glove
box, placed my wallet therein and shut the glove boxs flap. I then picked up a clear plastic
water-bottle containing tap water from the front passengers seat I always carry such a water-
bottle in my car on account of my Diabetes and said to the nearby officers as I was standing
up straight: Its just water. I need to drink it because of my Hyperglycaemia. Just as I had put
the bottles top between my lips, BOSS exclaimed something like: You cant drink that!.

{18} Immediately, both officers physically assaulted me. One of them I think it must have
been BOSS grabbed my right arm hard from a position somewhat behind me (I could not see
her face, as I was oriented towards my cars interior), while FLUECHTER was alternately
grabbing at my hands and tugging hard on my left arm. Because I had managed to drink much
less than a mouthful of the water, I attempted to continue drinking from the water-bottle, so that
a very brief struggle ensued one in which I did not attack either of the officers whatsoever. In
the end, FLUECHTER did succeed in pulling the water-bottle away from my lips while crushing
it with both hands so that its contents spurted out onto the kerb and partly onto the floor of my
car. I concede that I was greatly angered by what I considered and still do consider to be an
unprovoked and completely unnecessary assault, particularly when I had already stated the

~4~
medical reason behind my need for the water, and that I would be choosing the blood-test
option (so that I could not be accused by the Police of trying to alter a forthcoming breath-
analysis). Anyway, I locked up my car and stepped away from it, remaining nearby on the
nature-strip.

{19} Both officers then demanded that I hand over my car-keys right away, along with
anything else in my pockets. Despite being seriously affronted by their behaviour moments
before, I assumed that this demand was probably normal Police procedure, so I complied with it
I even turned all of my pockets inside out, so that they could see I was concealing nothing.

{20} I then moved a short distance away from both officers I did not wish to be subjected
against my will to any more physical contact from them under any pretext! and onto the
footpath proper, along which I limpingly paced up and down (spanning the length of both cars)
in order to cool off as much as possible. FLUECHTER followed me at my side, nearer to the
gutter, all the while maintaining a constant distance of about 1 metre. There seemed to be no
purpose to his exact mimicry of my movement (which I found quite irritating), so I said to him:
Are you a bloody sheep or a robot? I hope youre not so dumb as to think that Id try to
escape!. (I certainly did not use any taboo language in speaking to him, over which I was very
aware that I could and indeed probably would be charged.) FLUECHTER then demanded
that I cease walking, and he yanked me by my right arm as I was moving back in the direction
towards my car, causing me abruptly to stop roughly parallel with its front passengers door;
FLUECHTER took position right next to this car-door, on the nature-strip and facing away from
the road.

{21} Now FLUECHTERs bad behaviour towards me only served to add to my aggravation; I
then stepped towards him, and, remaining stationary while facing him at a distance of about 1
metre, began remonstrating with him over it. (As I recall, BOSS had stayed still throughout all of
my pacing, at this time being somewhat further away, on my right, near the Police car and
probably out of earshot. I also remember that while speaking to FLUECHTER, my hands
remained at my sides, with my fingers curled slightly; at no time were my fists clenched.)

{22} Out of the blue, with no warning whatsoever, FLUECHTER then hit me hard in the chest
with the palms of both his hands while I was in the middle of talking to him. This caused me to
stumble backwards several steps and almost to fall onto my back. I then said to him something
like: If youre going to keep that up [i.e. assaulting me], Ill be able to take whatever you dish
out because Im taller and broader across the shoulders than you. My intention in saying this
sort of thing was simply to declare that, whilst I was incapable of legally preventing such

~5~
misconduct from him, I could without doubt physically tolerate it; and that, equally, I bore no
intent to reciprocate (something which could well result in a jail sentence).

{23} Anyhow, when I recovered my balance shortly thereafter, I resolved to learn the identity
of this disgraceful officer by looking at the official name-plate on his blue shirt (name-plates,
after all, cannot lie or refuse to reveal such information) with a view to making a formal
complaint against him later. I observed then that FLUECHTER was shaking something in his
right hand, rapidly up and down at waist height; I surmised accurately, as it turned out that
he might be priming some pepper spray to fire at me. Given this worrying development, I
appreciated that I would need to behave very carefully towards him, lest he feel that I was about
to attack him physically in retaliation.

{24} So I walked back towards FLUECHTER with both hands held behind my back (arms
straight, my left hand grasping my right wrist) and stood just close enough to him, face-to-face
about a metre away, in order to be able to read his name-plate. Suddenly, without warning, I
was sprayed in the face by FLUECHTER with what the Police have admitted to be oleoresin
Capsicum Spray, for a continuous burst of 34 seconds. Although my eyes were slightly
protected by the spectacles I was wearing, the agony caused to them was intense and instant. I
remember staggering backwards, away from FLUECHTER, then taking off my eye-glasses with
my left hand and rubbing both eyes with my right forearm. I also attempted unsuccessfully
to clean my glasses by wiping them on the lower part of my t-shirt, after which I put them back
on.

{25} Being very disoriented, in a great deal of pain, and with extremely blurry vision, I guess
that I must have tottered unintentionally towards FLUECHTER again, for he sprayed me a
second time exactly as described above. It is perhaps the case that this time he was closer to
me, or that he directed the Capsicum Spray more accurately into my eyes and onto my face,
because its effects were even more devastating than before: my facial skin quickly felt like it
was on fire; the stinging pain to both of my eyes was more severe this time, and I was to all
intents and purposes blinded; I soon began to cough up mucus (which also started to run freely
from my nose); and I was already experiencing a burning sensation at the back of my mouth
and throat, as well as what were just my initial difficulties in breathing. Again, I was completely
disorientated proprioceptively; but I do recall taking off my spectacles for a second time and
attempting to wipe my eyes with a clean handkerchief as I wandered along. Somebody
FLUECHTER, I think grabbed me by my upper left arm (I was not in any condition to resist),
and directed me to what seemed to be a bench seat that was conveniently located nearby,

~6~
where I sat while continuing to wipe my eyes. All I could smell at this stage was the odour of
Capsicum Spray; and I could tell that much of the front chest part of my t-shirt had become
impregnated with this substance because it felt oily, reeked very strongly of Capsicum Spray,
and seemed to possess a darker colouring than the lower stomach region of the t-shirts front.
BOSS then came along and informed me that it was better not to rub ones eyes after being
Capsicum-sprayed.

{26} While seated for an indeterminate amount of time, the effects of the Capsicum Spray on
me did not wear off, but actually became worse particularly in regard to my air-passages,
which I could feel were progressively becoming more and more constricted; I also remained
disoriented. However, I was aware that a number of other uniformed Police officers had arrived
on the scene, and soon afterwards I was being directed towards the rear of a Police
paddywagon. (If there was anything said by any officers to me during this time, I was not
aware of it although I do vaguely recall being patted down by somebody prior to getting into
the paddywagon.)

{27} The interior of the paddywagon apart from its cabin area was comprised entirely of
metal: shiny stainless-steel bench seats running along both sides of the prisoners zone; a
corrugated metal floor; a solid steel door (with inset metal slats); and a thick wire network grill
through which one could see into the cabin. I promptly sat down on the left (passengers side)
bench and slid along to the very front corner, where I stayed. While the vehicle was moving, I
was continually being bounced and thrown around somewhat this paddywagon had no
restraints like seatbelts installed for prisoners safety so I held on to the front metal grill with
my left fingers and also stretched out both legs straight such that my feet made contact with the
flat vertical surface of the opposite bench seat, in order to attain some positional stability.

{28} Meanwhile, my airways had constricted to such an alarming degree that I was on the
verge of total panic at what felt to be something I imagined like an asthma attack: my breathing
had become so arduous and difficult that the only way I thought I could continue to breathe at
all was to bend forwards and consciously, laboriously breathe in and out deeply so as to
prevent all of my air-passages from closing up entirely (just as my late father, who suffered for
decades from severe asthma, used often to do). Despite the ongoing pain to my eyes and facial
skin, my concentration was almost completely focussed upon my need to keep breathing and
not to pass out; even so, I was aware (because of its audibility) that I was wheezing heavily,
that mucus was incessantly flowing from my nose, and that I was regularly coughing and
expectorating.

~7~
 {29} Some time later, the paddywagon ceased its motion, stopping at what I presumed to be
the inner precinct of some local Police Station (which I later found out to be in Dee Why). By
this stage, my mental focus was directed utterly upon my breath-maintenance as described
above so much so, that I had only a very minimal and sporadic awareness of whatever was
going on around me. My condition had reached such an acute point that I knew I could not even
move, my aim being just to sit it out until the Capsicum Sprays adverse effects eventually
subsided. I heard my Christian name, Ian, spoken by different male persons many times, as
well as the word ambulance. I do also recollect gasping, on my out-breath, the words Leave
me be! at least twice. Another thing I heard one individual say, distinctly and with resolve I do
remember his avowal quite clearly was: Ian, if we have to pull you out of there, well make
sure that youll fall down very hard onto the concrete floor. Its quite a drop and, believe me, a
big bloke like you will fall hard.

{30} Somebody then reached in and managed to grab hold of my right foot (which is slightly
deformed due to a condition known as Charcots neuroarthropathy; this foot happened to be the
one nearest to the paddywagons rear door), pulling very hard on it while simultaneously
twisting my right ankle thereby and therein causing me a great deal of sharp pain. Taking to
heart the threat just asserted to me about falling hard [see the end of 29], I held on to the
paddywagons front grill with my left hand for dear life! I also repeatedly called out to this person
Let go! Leave me alone!, which they did do eventually. At no time did I lash out with any of my
limbs at anybody an action which was also physically impossible for me to carry out under
these circumstances, as I was totally out of breath and stretched along the length of the
paddywagons prisoner cage.

{31} An almost identical, and similarly unsuccessful, attempt by some officer was made
again to forcibly pull me out of the paddywagon; but whoever it was this time did not twist my
right ankle.

{32} After this brief episode, I heard FLUECHTER I recognized the timbre of his voice
say words to me like: Since you wont get out, Ian, you can cop this again. And immediately
FLUECHTER sprayed Capsicum Spray into my face once more another continuous stream
lasting 34 seconds. Now because I had taken my spectacles off (they were lying next to me on
the paddywagons steel bench seat), this burst of Capsicum Spray went at first straight into my
right eye mainly, causing me overwhelming pain. As a reflex response, I turned my head
sharply to the left, towards the steel mesh network, to avoid as much as possible the spray
hitting my face any more. FLUECHTER momentarily ceased spraying, but then let forth yet

~8~
another (this time shorter) burst of Capsicum Spray, which I felt land in my hair behind my right
ear. Such spraying was an unprovoked assault.

{33} The paddywagons cage compartment was now saturated with Capsicum Spray fumes,
and the inflammation to my face, eyes, and air-passages was markedly exacerbated. The
mucus kept flowing. In particular, my inability to freely breathe worsened considerably putting
me into a state of terror. I continued to sit and breathe in and out as described in 28, but
shortly after this bout of Capsicum spraying, someone tugged hard on my right foot for a third
time (pulling off my right slipper). Because of my deteriorated state, I could no longer maintain
my grasp of the steel mesh I was previously holding on to with my left-hand fingers;
consequently, I slid rapidly along the corrugated floor of the paddywagon towards its rear door.
My left foot automatically became wedged against the rear metal wall to the left of this rear
door, and my already injured left knee was now being twisted awkwardly. (Because of my
relatively atrophied left quadriceps, I could not apply any resistance to the tugger by pushing
against this wall.) I think that I called out to them something like Wait a second! while I
somehow managed to free my left foot with my left hand. However, I do recall exclaiming that
my right foot hurt and Would someone please put my right slipper back on my foot? (which
somebody did) since I was concerned about landing heavily on my unprotected Charcots
foot. At this point, I believe that I was lying half within and half hanging out of the rear of the
paddywagon.

{34} Several people then lifted me bodily out of the paddywagon and placed me gently on
the concrete floor in a seated position, where I continued to focus on my breathing to the
exclusion of everything else. I was unable to get to my feet (let alone walk), and I vaguely
recollect being dragged a short distance to a room within the Police Station, where I lay on the
floor on one side breathing deeply while intermittently coughing and expectorating. I also had
the impression that from time to time somebody was speaking to me, but in any event I could
not respond due to the severity of the Capsicum Sprays effects upon me.

{35} I lay on the ground (as described above) for what seemed like an eternity, only to be
subjected to a further physical attack by the Police a classic example of assault while in
Police custody. 5 officers were involved: one on each leg, one on each arm, with the fifth officer
trying to lift me up off the ground by my ears! I shook my head vigorously, and accomplished a
loosening of this attackers grip. Moreover, the officer to my right was painfully bending my right
hand back as far as possible. Luckily, I had broken free of the officer on my left, so with my left
hand, I succeeded in reaching over and reversing the former officers hold on me (bending one

~9~
of his hands forward), forcing him to let go of my right hand. The other two officers perhaps in
conjunction with some of the others then dragged me along the floor quite rapidly (causing my
Capsicum-Spray-soaked t-shirt to ride up my bare back, and its front to temporarily cover my
face), out of the room in which I was laying, and back into the concrete-floor area where the
paddywagon remained.

{36} While I lay on the ground breathing laboriously, I overheard some or all of these officers
discussing amongst themselves the desirability of kicking the shit out of him [meaning me]
although mercifully, they did not proceed with such a cowardly deed. Instead, after a little while,
they surrounded me and then picked me up bodily off the floor, throwing me headlong back into
the paddywagon onto its corrugated metal floor, after which the paddywagons rear door was
slammed shut and locked. Slowly, after laying flat on my back for some time, I raised myself
onto the passenger-side metal bench-seat, and assumed precisely the same sitting position
and breathing as detailed within 27. Given the silence i.e. the absence of any talking I
believed that I had now been left alone, and that no officers were in the vicinity.

{37} I had been sitting alone for quite a long time within the stationary paddywagon when I
felt an irresistible urge to urinate (something that I had not done for many hours, well before I
had gone to bed much earlier that evening). My bladder was full to bursting point, and starting
to spasm; I thought that I was alone; and I did not dare contemplate what sort of response I
might elicit from Police had I called out for some assistance in this regard, given earlier events:
so, in the end, I had no alternative but to urinate a little onto the metal floor of the paddywagon
itself (rather than humiliatingly pissing in my pants) but I only urinated just enough to regain
control over my bladder. Shortly thereafter, two male officers arrived, got into this paddywagons
cabin, and the vehicle was driven off. In terms of my laboured breathing, I sensed that the
deleterious effects of the Capsicum Spray were at last beginning to wear off just a little
though they were still acute.

{38} When the paddywagon eventually arrived at its destination, its rear door was opened
and I saw about six male Police officers Constable Kylie BOSS was not present at all, so far
as I could tell and another fellow wearing a white laboratory coat. He politely introduced
himself by his first name (which I dont remember; but I do recall that he had a pronounced
British accent), and when I asked him what his rle was here, he replied that he was a medical
doctor. This affable doctor asked me to step out of the paddywagon, but I told him that I badly
needed a drink of water. He then said that I could have one inside, to which I retorted: Look,
mate. I really need some water now!. So off he went, returning shortly thereafter with a cup of

~ 10 ~
water which I eagerly drank. When I requested a refill, this process was repeated. In a short
time, I felt much better: the water had washed the Capsicum Spray out of my mouth and upper
respiratory areas to some extent (although not entirely: I could still taste it at this time), and my
pulmonary action was a bit easier. So I then carefully alighted from the rear of the paddywagon,
walking a short distance during which time I said this to the Police officers present, all of them
young males: You lot are just a bunch of animals (expressing my opinion of them, incensed at
their earlier treatment of me) before entering a small room of what seemed to be a hospital.

{39} Note: Whilst reading the Polices so-called Facts Sheet, on p.4 of it I am accused of
saying to FLUECHTER around this time: Ill put a bullet in the back of your head. I
emphatically deny this allegation. I have never made such a vile threat to anybody during my
entire life; and I am aware that a verbal threat to kill someone is a serious illegality which would
result in charges being laid particularly were it directed at a Police officer.

{40} Anyhow, once I had entered the abovementioned room [38], I sought permission to
use the nearby toilet, and this was readily granted by both medical staff and the Police. I
entered this toilet cubicle, locked its door, pulled down my pants and then sat down upon the
toilet-bowl wherein I completed my urination and began to defecate. A male person soon
rapped on the door and asked, in a displeased tone, what I was doing (as well as ordering me
to hurry up), to which I responded: Im doing a crap, if you really must know. Bugger off!. I
then finished my bowel movement, cleaned myself with toilet paper, flushed the toilet, pulled up
my pants then washed my hands thoroughly after which I drank some more water from the
tap above the vanity basin, and commenced to wash my face and eyes repeatedly in an
attempt to remove all traces of the oleoresin Capsicum Spray thereon. I estimate that I
occupied this toilet cubicle for approximately 10 minutes, and at most 15 minutes. By this stage,
my lungs had recovered to what seemed to be within reach of normal pulmonary function
though my eyes and face still stung somewhat.

{41} Upon leaving the toilet cubicle, I was escorted by Police a very short distance to what
appeared to be an open examination room. (By now, I was convinced that this establishment
was definitely a hospital. In my navet, I thought that the Police must have transported me
there in order to seek medical help for me.) Anyway, the white-coated doctor referred to in 38
then formally asked me to submit to a blood-test. I quickly came to understand that his request
was not for the betterment of my health, but was instead merely to establish my blood-alcohol
level. Now although I had earlier that evening requested just such a blood-test [see 16], but
knowing absolutely nothing about the chemical constituents of Capsicum Spray and its

~ 11 ~
propellents let alone what effect such chemicals might have on my blood-alcohol reading I
formally declined to provide a sample of my blood. I then turned towards a fairly senior male
Police officer (judging by the number of chevrons upon his shoulders epaulettes) who was
wearing a leather cap, and told him that I would now be prepared to be taken back to the Police
Station for a breath analysis, since I no longer could taste any Capsicum Spray within my
mouth or feel it affecting my airways. He replied that it was now too late.

{42} Accompanied by Police, I then walked back to the rear of the paddywagon (into which I
climbed), and was transported back to the Dee Why Police Station where I was locked into a
small dock or cell made of thick transparent Perspex. During my time therein:

(a) I consumed several more cups of water provided by various Police officers noting
that FLUECHTER flat out refused my request for water at first;

(b) I was allowed to urinate in the prisoners toilet two or three times;

(c) I saw FLUECHTER writing things down in his official police notebook right in front of
me, with BOSS appearing occasionally to talk with him and compare notes, in what
appeared to be a collaborative (or collusive) enterprise;

(d) I had a lengthy and quite pleasant conversation with an older female Police sergeant,
Sergeant Gillian HOUGH, ranging across a wide variety of general subjects (including
discussion concerning the merits and pitfalls of various occupations, and descriptions
of her own children);

(e) I complained to HOUGH during the process of being asked a number of questions
for the record regarding my medical history, etc. that I was still experiencing
unpleasant burning sensations to my face, even though I had washed it.

{43} After many hours, I was released from custody (having been provided with the requisite
paperwork, and having my property returned to me) by which time it was about 8.00 am on
Saturday 24 September 2005. I then caught a government bus from Barrenjoey Road, Dee
Why, to Newport where I had parked my car on the very same road the night before. I drove
straight home, whereupon I telephoned my solicitor, Mr John Maguire. He advised me to
promptly visit my doctor, Dr Y. C. Liu, that morning if possible; I was able to get an appointment
with Dr Liu, who diagnosed me as having reactive conjunctivitis to my eyes. My mother then
washed my Penguin t-shirt in our laundrys tub; while doing so, she complained about the
Capsicum-Spray fumes emanating from this t-shirt that had triggered breathing problems for

~ 12 ~
her, as well as eye- and nose-irritation.

Yours faithfully,

Dr Ian Shanahan.

~ 13 ~