Indigenous inmate complained about being bitten by a spider before dying just days away from his release
Aboriginal man, Wayne Green, 41, was bitten inside Parklea Correctional Centre in Sydney and, two weeks later, died in Westmead Hospital about 9.55pm on Friday.
He received medical treatment after alerting staff to symptoms of severe chest pain.
Mr Green was first treated by St Vincent hospital staff, the private health provider inside the Sydney prison, and was subsequently transferred to Westmead Hospital when his condition deteriorated.
A spokesperson for the private operators of the prison, MTC Broadspectrum confirmed the Indigenous inmate died on Friday.
'The man had been transferred from Parklea Correctional Centre to hospital at about 12.55pm for treatment,' they told Daily Mail Australia.
'MTC extends our sympathies to his family, friends and the wider Aboriginal community.'
The prison operators are working with Corrective Services NSW and NSW Police 'who investigate all deaths in custody regardless of the circumstances'.
Medical staff were told about the spider bite on Friday after treating the inmate for chest pain, according to The Daily Telegraph.
It's understood the spider bite may have happened two weeks prior to Mr Green's death.
Investigators are awaiting the results of toxicology reports before a cause of death can be confirmed.
Mr Green was due to be released from Parklea on July 11.
The MTC spokesperson revealed a 'protest' broke out at the prison on Saturday following the Aboriginal man's death.
'About 9.00am on Saturday, June 28, in response to the death, a group of inmates conducted a peaceful protest in an accommodation unit,' they said.
'After a period of negotiation, the majority of inmates were voluntarily secured in their cells. A small number of inmate representatives then spoke with centre management.
'At about 12.30pm, inmates were released from their cells, and normal routine recommenced.
'There were no injuries to staff or inmates during the incident, and nothing was damaged.'
Mr Green's death will be subject to a coronial inquest.
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- Times
Revealed: the prison chief linked to organised crime
B obby Cunningham had always promised himself and his partner that he would get the back garden sorted out before their baby arrived. The head of security at HMP Wandsworth in London, he was responsible for law, order and countering corruption at Britain's most notorious prison — yet finances were tight. In June 2022 he called in a landscaping company to his home on the Isle of Sheppey in Kent. A son of a former prison officer, Cunningham, 34, was well connected. It was not out of the ordinary that he had a link to the firm, Payless Artificial Grass Limited. Yet Payless was no ordinary company. It was run by organised crime. An official at the top of one of Britain's most important prisons had been compromised. The firm's director was Ben Sullivan, a gangster from Sheppey. In December last year, he was arrested at Stansted en route to Dubai. Police said he had pleaded guilty to supplying cocaine, stating today: 'He was found to be a member of an organised crime group based in the Isle of Sheppey, which imported [drugs] into the UK and distributed across southern England.' Sullivan's business associate, 'X', who cannot be named for legal reasons, was arrested on suspicion of conspiracy to supply cocaine last year. He has been released on bail. Ben Sullivan, left, with 'X', right Around the time the works were taking place, Cunningham met X at his property. There, he later admitted, the men discussed a man known as Sullivan's 'uncle'. Alexander McGuffie was a prisoner at Wandsworth and was described in confidential Ministry of Justice documents as a 'known corruptor' with 'serious influence, intent and capability'. In custody, he was said to have offered prison officers money and gained access to 'unauthorised information'. At the time, he was awaiting trial for 11 charges including supplying cocaine, ordering ammunition for a firearm, stealing investigative documents from an undercover police officer's vehicle and perverting the course of justice. Cunningham was responsible for countering corruption. Yet he never disclosed the relationship with the gangsters to his superiors. According to sources, it was a 'change in circumstances' involving law enforcement that forced his hand. By the spring of 2023, the counter-corruption unit of HM Prisons Service had received intelligence from forces including the National Crime Agency and Kent Police about Cunningham. It discovered details of his dealings with alleged criminals and that he had not disclosed two investigations in which he was involved — and which 'could have been exploited by organised criminals'. It also learnt he had been buying offensive weapons. The counter-corruption unit believed that, if ever convicted of possession of the weapons alone, he could face four years in custody. More troubling was that prison officers had filed a number of 'corruption prevention intelligence reports' — a formal whistleblowing document — about the transfer of inmates to lower-security jails under Cunningham's watch. Some were sent to 'open' prisons, where eligible inmates can spend their days out of custody. This had apparently taken place in violation of prison and MoJ rules. The counter-corruption unit wanted to suspend Cunningham, but it was not so straightforward. The decision had to be approved. Cunningham was known to influential officials, among them Sarah Coccia, now chief operating officer of the prisons system. A fellow resident of the Isle of Sheppey, she and her husband had worked with his father. According to sources, when colleagues asked her to approve his suspension, she said that he came from a 'good family' and 'his dad's a good guy'. She also challenged the intelligence. Cunningham's father, Kevin Ian Bickers, the then head of London prisons who was privy to the conversation, recalls: 'Sarah questioned whether the evidence was sufficient to proceed to suspension and the likelihood of securing a criminal conviction.' She ultimately agreed to place Cunningham on leave. MoJ sources say she did not have a close personal relationship with the Cunningham family, there was no conflict in her dealings and that it was her job to query such decisions and subject them to internal scrutiny. The governor of HMP Wandsworth was more supportive. She allowed Cunningham to resign on medical grounds caused by a 'bad back' and the stress of being suspended. She then signed off a compensation award, allowing him to receive two lots of his annual salary — of about £80,000 — as a lump sum subject to tax. In addition, Cunningham was having an affair with the manager of the intelligence hub at HMP Wandsworth, which triaged reports of crime within the prison. In her role, she sat with the anti-corruption team. Although Cunningham was found guilty of misconduct and had to return his compensation, he was never referred to police for potential offences including possession of offensive weaponry and misconduct in public office. Sources at the MoJ say no evidence of criminality was found. An internal investigation into the prisoner transfers he oversaw was partial and never completed. Our report draws on paperwork concerning a disciplinary investigation into Cunningham led by the anti-corruption team; a 'private and confidential' review of prisoner transfers he oversaw; and leaked images from NOMIS, the database used to record prisoner activity. We have also spoken to current and former prison officers and residents of Sheppey. It reveals the full extent of a prison deputy boss's dealings with organised crime — and the prisons system's failure to hold him to account. By the summer of 2023, Michael Nascimento had spent half a decade in prison. A former financial professional, in September 2018 he was jailed for 13 years for conspiring to defraud 170 people of millions of pounds, among them a woman who was 'bullied' into parting with her life savings while her mother battled cancer. The judge who oversaw his trial in described his conduct as 'cynical', 'repellant' and 'despicable'. Nascimento, 48, ran a firm which cold-called elderly, vulnerable victims promising them massive returns on property in Madeira, but instead used the proceeds to fund his lifestyle — including Arsenal tickets and private school fees. The Financial Conduct Authority described him as 'the controlling mind, instigator and the main beneficiary' of a fraud which totalled more than £2.8 million. For these crimes, Nascimento was sent to Wandsworth, which, as a category B men's prison, housed terrorists, drug traffickers and sex offenders. A judge had handed him four more years in jail in January 2023 due to his refusal to liquidate overseas assets, denying his victims long-awaited compensation. The Victorian prison was slipping into anarchy. Cells designed for one person were overcrowded and infested with rats. Self-harm was out of control. Wings were filled with the stench of cannabis. An official investigation in August last year called it on the 'worst year' in memory with inhumane conditions contributing to seven suicides. Liz Bridge, a Quaker chaplain in the prison, said it was as though the conditions were designed to drive inmates 'insane'. On July 24, 2023, Nascimento received some extraordinary news. He was told he was to be transferred to HMP Kirkham, a category D or 'open' prison in a village in Lancashire, where some inmates spent their days away from the jail and the rest had access to a gym, football pitch and café. For this, he had Cunningham to thank. Earlier that year, when Nascimento's conditions were examined as part of a routine annual review, his chances of being transferred appeared to be zero. Wandsworth's rules stated prisoners who failed to fulfil confiscation orders exceeding £200,000 were ineligible for transfer to open prisons. His outstanding balance was £541,098.71. The Financial Conduct Authority had also objected, advising that Nascimento had 'a number of overseas assets' and raising 'concerns that [he] would likely interfere with those assets if released/re-categorised'. Yet Cunningham authorised his departure. A record on NOMIS — the prisons' internal system — states: 'Deputy governor Robert Cunningham stated that Mr Nascimento should be granted category D status.' Nascimento was escorted out of prison, put into a Serco van and driven northwest. If prisoners and staff were shocked, they were not all surprised. Cunningham was no ordinary prison officer. Born in October 1990, Cunningham grew up in Minster, the largest town on the Isle of Sheppey. A patchwork of marsh wetlands, warehouses and tight-knit residential communities, it is accessible from the mainland by two bridges. Life is insular, with many employed at the three prisons. 'Everyone knows everyone,' is how residents often describe it. On leaving school at 18, Cunningham followed his father and his brother into the prison service. His first workplace was HMP Elmley, a category B/C facility on the Isle of Sheppey. As a guard, Cunningham quickly established a reputation for being inappropriately chummy with prisoners, using his charm and banter to maintain order. His behaviour was enough to earn him a nickname that stuck: 'Fun Time Bobbie.' Others knew him as 'Kev's boy' — a reference to his father, Kevin, who had worked at HMP Swaleside, a nearby category B jail, and whose friends did their best to protect him. For his part, he addressed them with an informality unusual in the hierarchical prisons world. In Cunningham's twenties, he rose despite setbacks that might have proved fatal for others. At HMP Cookham Wood, he was allegedly overheard asking a colleague to assault a young inmate by engaging in a deliberately forceful act of 'restraint'. He was suspended and the matter investigated — but kept his job. In 2015, he apparently had another brush with the law when HMRC intercepted a delivery of nunchucks, a martial arts weapon, he had ordered online. They confiscated them, but did not take further action. Yet aged 28, he was pictured with Rory Stewart, who was prisons minister, at the Prison Officer of the Year awards. He narrowly missed out. The following year, he started taking his governors' exams, putting him on a fast track to the top. Cunningham was pictured with Rory Stewart at the 2018 Prison Officer of the Year awards Shortly before the pandemic Cunningham was transferred to HMP Wandsworth, a prison which, in its scale, and disorder, far eclipsed the youth facility where he had spent about a decade. It housed almost 1,500 prisoners, approaching double its intended capacity. As head of safety, Cunningham's brief was to tackle violence and self-harm. Despite the demands, and the 4am commutes from Sheppey, he prospered. This led to the promotion that would prove so controversial. In 2021, aged 31, he was appointed head of security, joining the leadership team. His role: to enforce the law in an increasingly lawless prison. He had no specialist training in combatting crime, nor management. Yet overnight he was responsible for a team overseeing hundreds of staff. According to internal documents, his role included to 'counter corruption within the prison', 'any police operations involving members of staff', and 'security and intelligence'. If a convict was bribing a guard to turn a blind eye to phones or drugs, it was his job to know. If organised crime was operating behind bars, the same applied. To do the job well, Cunningham needed a flow of intelligence from guards and inmates. He was also required to work with the leadership of HM Prisons Service, civil servants at the MoJ headquarters in Westminster and law enforcement bodies such as the National Crime Agency. Rachel Lees, a since-retired prison officer who worked under Cunningham in the security team, recalled that he seemed 'an extremely unserious man for such a trusted role'. She said that, under his watch, a combination of poor leadership and chronic understaffing led the security operation to collapse. As a result, she stated, intelligence was 'not acted on, cells were not being searched and even large drug finds were not able to be written up, as trained security staff were being sent instead to facilitate exercise on the yard'. She said that, on most days 'no one was working in security' and that, as a result' colleagues felt reporting wrongdoing was 'quite pointless … Prisoners knew this as well, as they saw security staff running regime [unlocking doors and serving meals] on their wings every day'. What troubled colleagues even more was Cunningham's rapport with prisoners. It is normal for guards to build a relationship with inmates. But as head of security, he was supposed to maintain a distance. He also appeared to go out of his way to protect certain people. On one occasion, he pulled back a colleague trying to diffuse a fight on E wing, where new arrivals are housed. He allegedly said: 'Regardless of what Chalmers [the prisoner] does, you do not restrain him.' In early 2023, Cunningham was promoted to deputy governor alongside his other duties, giving him greater authority and pay. This was unusual because he had not yet passed the relevant exams. Wandsworth said he could be 'interim deputy governor' instead. As a result, key decisions started to fall into his remit. (He still reported to the head of the prison, the so-called governing governor). Among Cunningham's responsibilities was one that soon fuelled suspicion from law enforcement and colleagues alike: prison transfers. Every year, every prisoner has their 'categorisation' — the tier of prison they are in — reviewed. In 99 per cent of cases, the reviews are a box-ticking exercise to confirm a person's status reflects the danger they pose, their behaviour in custody and time served. Most prisoners do not move. In cases where a person is moved to category D or 'open' conditions, a prisoner also tends to be approaching the end of their sentence. Yet under Cunningham's watch, a number of serious offenders at Wandsworth had their status reviewed months early and were transferred to an open prison. Nascimento was one. He already had privileges as leader of the inmate-run cleaning team, which gave him access to the whole prison and the right to stay out of his cell late. He also had a ground-floor cell to himself. When he was transferred to HMP Kirkham, Cunningham's decision caused consternation at Wandsworth. How could Nascimento's transfer have been compliant with the rules when, months earlier, he had been handed an extra four years in prison? The answer that officials at HMP Kirkham soon alighted on was clear: it was not. Days after Nascimento arrived, officials examined his records and realised the transfer broke the rules. They did not return him to Wandsworth, but sent him to HMP Lancaster Farms, a nearby prison with a higher security 'C' classification. Cunningham was already taking risks. Then law enforcement became involved. *** On June 17, 2022, Brittany, Cunningham's long-term partner, posted a thank you note on social media to Payless Artificial Grass 'for all their hard work this week!' Around this time, Sullivan, its director, and his associate, X, came under police investigation. Eastern Region Special Operations Unit or ERSOU, the East of England's dedicated team for counter-terrorism and organised crime, was examining evidence the men were involved in importing and selling cocaine. The pair had long been rumoured to be involved in the drugs trade. Sullivan had newly bleached teeth, expensive tastes and regularly travelled to Dubai. X was subtler, if also prone to foreign trips. According to one resident, Cunningham was well aware of their criminal activities. Cunningham later accepted he had known both men for years, but for innocent reasons. He said he would 'attend the same pubs and football clubs' as X. Sullivan's brother played in his cricket team. He was defensive about how he had paid for the work, with sources on the island suggesting he borrowed cash from a friend. Last week, Cunningham promised to send proof he had paid himself. He failed to do so. The friend who allegedly lent him the funds refused to deny the claim. Less easy to explain was what happened next. When Cunningham met X at his property around the time the work was ongoing, they discussed McGuffie, 49, the Wandsworth prisoner awaiting trial for offences including stealing an undercover officer's BMW. An alleged organised criminal, he had previously been sentenced to 12 years in prison for his role in smuggling £120,000 of cocaine into the country, only to have his conviction quashed after four years due to a prosecutorial failing: the Crown had omitted to mention that some of the detectives who investigated him had been criticised over their recording of evidence in a separate case. Although he was released, the National Crime Agency stayed on his tail. By 2022, detectives there believed they had got their man. They found McGuffie's name in encrypted communications on EncroChat, a platform used by organised crime. He was extradited from Spain and taken to Wandsworth pending trial. According to documents, in custody he became a person of interest to 'both SOCU [the serious organised crime unit] and CCU [the countercorruption unit] and … a known corruptor with significant influence, intent and capability'. According to sources, this was because he had offered money to prison officers, obtained information 'he shouldn't have had', and had illicit access to certain foods. The authorities deemed him so dangerous they repeatedly raided his cell during his time in custody and at one point moved him to HMP Belmarsh, a higher security prison. Yet shortly before his trial, the prosecution fell apart again due to legal problems the Crown would not divulge when contacted for comment. Earlier this year, he was set free again and in the eyes of the law remains an innocent man. It is not known how McGuffie initially came into contact with Sullivan and X. Since being released from prison, he has spent his time in Spain, where he intends to stay to avoid 'the corruption' of British law enforcement. Reached by phone last week, he declined to comment, although a source close to him acknowledged McGuffie had seen Sullivan 'about … in Dubai … in places'. The source said McGuffie had only met X recently and insisted he had never at any stage asked either man to do anything on his behalf. The source close to McGuffie added that, if he knew 'these people in the context of a criminal conspiracy, what would [he] have to gain from Mr Cunningham?' He said the answer to that question was 'nothing'. He said McGuffie had spoken to Cunningham in prison on three or four occasions but no more. As for any conversations about McGuffie between Cunninghan and X on the Isle of Sheppey, he said that was a matter for them. McGuffie had no knowledge. The source vigorously denied that McGuffie was a corruptive influence, saying he was himself the victim of corruption. Sally Hill, head of counter-corruption at HM Prisons Service, had learnt of Cunningham's dealings with X by early 2023. In May, she advised him to report his relationship with the man. Then, on July 13, she demanded a meeting at Wandsworth, telling him on arrival it concerned his 'potential vulnerability over the contact with the local tradesman' — that is, X. According to official paperwork, she also asked him whether there were any areas 'whatsoever' where he might be vulnerable to blackmail such as 'drug issues, gambling, debt issues, etc.'. He spoke about the fact that, 'where he lived', on the Isle of Sheppey, 'people knew each other … There were inter-connections', including to Payless. A record of his interview states that he 'recalled that [X] had mentioned a prisoner called Alex McGuffie to him' and that he was 'clearly concerned about the connection between [X] and Alex McGuffie'. The intervention lasted an hour, but it is what Cunningham did not discuss that posed problems. Hill quickly discovered other 'potential vulnerabilities'. Colleagues had filed a number of confidential 'CPIRs' — corruption prevention intelligence reports — expressing concern about the transfer of prisoners to open conditions. There were also questions about his personal life. In mid-July 2023, Hill discovered two recent incidents involving Cunningham and police. The first: a call out to his property following a 'domestic' incident in 2019. The second: an ex-partner's involvement in a fraud investigation in which she had been arrested in 2021. Although the girlfriend was given a 'no further action', during their inquiries, detectives searched Cunningham's property, where they found what appeared to be stolen goods. He had disclosed neither police matter to his superiors either at the time or in the conversation with Hill. Less grave, embarrassing though it was, was the discovery of unsavoury social media posts. Finally, Hill also received credible intelligence that Cunningham had been ordering offensive weapons to his property. On July 18, 2023, Hill returned to Wandsworth to meet Cunningham, this time flanked by the head of counter-corruption operations for southern England. According to official paperwork, he still failed to give the full facts of his contact with police. Only after they showed their hand did he admit this. He claimed he had told colleagues verbally at the time, but was not able to provide evidence. A document adds: '[He] accepts the correct way to report such incidents is in writing via a conflict of interest form … or security information report'. His position was that the initial meeting 'caught him by surprise' — and that, had it taken place differently, he might have given a fuller account. Hill went to see Katie Price, the governor of Wandsworth, to share her findings. Together, from an office, they called Ian Bickers, the prison group director for London. Bickers recalls: 'During our discussion, I asked what the potential outcome of the ongoing investigations might be … Sally [Hill] stated that, in her view, the HMPPS counter-corruption unit and law enforcement agencies had sufficient evidence to consider pursuing a criminal conviction against Mr Cunningham.' Hill specifically said that Cunningham faced four years in prison due to the offensive weaponry discovered in his property alone. The three spent 40 minutes talking through the intelligence. Hill's view was that Cunningham should be relieved of his duties, if temporarily, so an investigation could take place at the very least. The others agreed. First, however, Bickers approached his own superior, Sarah Coccia, then the executive for London prisons and now chief operating officer of the prisons system. Coccia lived a two-minute drive from Cunningham's parents' house in Sheppey. She had known his father for years through the prison system. So had her husband, John. Sources close to Coccia say the families were not close, but familiar to each other through the prison world and through the island. When she first saw Cunningham at Wandsworth, she said hello and arranged for him to be mentored by a deputy director of the prisons service. According to sources briefed on their conversations, Bickers told Coccia that something grave had happened in a London prison, that it concerned Cunningham, and he wanted to suspend pending an investigation. Coccia did not recuse herself at the mention of a man whose father she knew. She challenged what she was hearing, allegedly reacting with incredulity at the idea he had done anything wrong, stating: 'Are you sure about Bobby Cunningham? I trained with his dad and he's a good sort.' Coccia cautioned that there had been three high-profile suspensions in as many years in the London area. She asked Bickers: Did he really want a fourth? Bickers told others he believed his superior was asking him to drop the issue. He refused, repeating that, yes, he wished to suspend and investigate. Coccia interjected: 'Are you absolutely certain? I know his father, his father is a really good guy, I know the family, are you absolutely sure?' She then queried whether the intelligence was strong enough — which the MoJ says was consistent with her role. She asked: 'Where has this briefing come from?' Bickers remembers: 'Sarah questioned whether the evidence was sufficient to proceed to suspension and the likelihood of securing a criminal conviction. I confirmed that, based on the briefing I had received, I was confident in the proposed course of action. I suggested she could also speak directly with Sally Hill.' Coccia agreed. MoJ sources now say there was no conflict of interest or impropriety in her decision to stress test the thinking behind the decision. Cunningham was suspended in late July. When he told his family the news, he insisted he had done nothing wrong. He had been placed on leave, he allegedly told them, because 'I had a conversation with the men that done our garden'. *** At Wandsworth, Cunningham's sudden disappearance fuelled speculation. Many staff suspected he had 'sold' transfers to prisoners. Prisoners were heard saying 'no one's getting D Cat now Bobby's gone'. Lucy Edwards, the manager of the intelligence hub, is said to have told colleagues it was all a misunderstanding. She ran a team which received reports of criminal activity in the cells. She also sat with anti-corruption colleagues. What she did not mention was that she and Cunningham had spent months planning a new life together. On a daily basis, the pair corresponded flirtatiously over MoJ email accounts — a conflict of interest withheld from their superiors. Whether Edwards heard allegations of wrongdoing about her partner before or after his suspension is not known. She soon resigned. Bickers began two parallel exercises, both run independently of Wandsworth, which would soon be dealing with the fallout from Daniel Khalife's high-profile escape in September 2023. Firstly, he asked Ian Blakeman, the governor of HMP Pentonville in north London, and Amy Powell, head of counter-corruption operations for central England, to investigate Cunningham. This was not designed to look into the reality of his dealings with criminals. Instead, could they find evidence he had breached his professional duties or contract of employment? The second, Bickers says, is that he was 'asked by Sally Hill to commission a review into recategorisations [Cunningham] had authorised'. This would cover all transfers from Wandsworth to category D prisons. If Nascimento formed part of a pattern, this exercise was supposed to find out. Both yielded damning, but limited, results. In September 2023, Blakeman concluded Cunningham was guilty of four breaches. He had 'acted unprofessionally' by failing to disclose two police investigations in which he was involved. He had 'acted dishonestly' by claiming he had told superiors about the police matters when he had not. And he had 'acted unprofessionally' and 'brought discredit upon HMPPS' through his social media posts. Blakeman believed his findings were evidence of 'gross misconduct' and proposed a formal disciplinary hearing. When asked why he had not gone into more detail on the relationship with Payless, he told confidants he knew enough to believe Cunningham posed a 'danger' to the prison system. He therefore gave his employers what they needed to act. In tandem, in October, the investigation into transfers found that, of six prisoners who fitted the correct fact pattern, 'five … warrant further checking'. It concluded: 'There are concerns in place particularly around the early reviews being completed and some additional risks identified linked to the individual prisoner.' The problem was twofold. Firstly, the review was limited to transfer between August 1 and 31, 2023, only covering part of Cunninghan's tenure at Wandsworth. In addition, its authors did not have access to complete information as it was stored in jails across the prison estate and many files had security restrictions attached. Its authors complained: 'If full access had been available, it would have been used to assess if all additional reviews based on risks had been completed and were appropriate …' They advised that 'further checks as detailed above are completed to ensure that any concerns are assured'. No such checks happened. Nor was Cunningham dismissed. Not at first. In late 2023, Bickers retired from his role as London prisons director and was replaced by Blakeman. One of Blakeman's first discoveries was that, during the transition period before his own arrival, Cunningham had been allowed to resign due to 'medical efficiency'. An occupational therapist had said he could not work because of a bad back and the psychological stress caused by his suspension. In response, Price, the governor, had approved an arrangement in which Cunningham was given two lots of his salary as a lump sum. He was also permitted to leave with a clean bill of health and free to return to the prison system or civil service in future. Price said she followed Prison Service policies in line with HR support and advice. She added: 'The disciplinary procedures were not commissioned locally — my knowledge of this disciplinary case would have been limited.' Blakeman was stunned. He believed it to be a subversion of longstanding policy that disciplinary matters came before any other procedure. He demanded a hearing into the original misconduct findings, which Cunningham failed to attend, saying he did not need to. He had already quit and had no desire to rejoin the civil service. Early last year, he was retrospectively given a gross misconduct finding and dismissed, meaning that his internal HR record stated: 'Resigned/dismissed', rather than 'resigned' alone. In tandem, Coccia's position hardened. Sources say that, on learning of the pay package, she ordered an investigation led by security officials and supported by the government legal department, based in Petty France. As a result of its findings, Cunningham was told to repay the wages he had received. The original package had been terminated. If he wished to dispute this, he was free to do so in court. He declined. Today, Cunningham and Edwards are a couple and run a property firm, Lucy and Bobby Company Limited, and a scaffolding company, Edwards and Cunningham Limited. In the period after Cunningham's departure, the prison service did not brief staff on what had happened at Wandsworth. It did not resume the investigation into transfers. Nor did it refer Cunningham to be investigated by police for potential crimes including misconduct in public office. Behind the prison walls, and within the MoJ, it was as though nothing had ever happened. A Prison Service spokesman said: 'The vast majority of prison staff are hardworking and honest, but we are catching more of the small number who break the rules through our Counter-Corruption Unit and stronger vetting. Where any member of staff falls below our high standards, we do not hesitate to take robust action.' MoJ sources say the investigations conducted did not reveal evidence of criminality. They added that it was not for the MoJ to refer Cunningham to police as law enforcement were consulted as part of the investigation. Cunningham did not respond. Sullivan, in prison, could not be reached but he is understood to be challenging the police's findings about his role in an organised crime group. A representative of his business partner called a reporter 'scum'. McGuffie, now in Spain having had all charges against him dropped, is understood to believe he was a victim of police corruption.
The Guardian
2 hours ago
- The Guardian
‘Devil in the Ozarks' spent months planning Arkansas prison escape
A former police chief and convicted murderer known as 'the devil in the Ozarks' spent months planning his escape from an Arkansas prison, and he said lax security in the kitchen where he worked allowed him to gather the supplies he needed, according to an internal review by prison officials released on Friday. The state corrections department's critical incident review of Grant Hardin's 25 May escape from the Calico Rock prison provides the most detailed description so far of his planning – and the issues that allowed him to walk out of the facility. Hardin was captured 1.5 miles (2.4km) north-west of the Calico Rock prison on 6 June. Authorities said he escaped by donning an outfit he designed to look like a law enforcement uniform. Hardin, who worked in the prison's kitchen, said he spent six months planning his escape and used black Sharpie markers and laundry he found lying around the kitchen to create the fake uniform, according to the report. Hardin fashioned a fake badge using the lid of a can. 'Hardin stated he would hide the clothes and other items he was going to need in the bottom of a trash can in the kitchen due to no one ever shaking it down,' the report says. Two prison employees have been fired for procedure violations that led to Hardin's escape. They include a kitchen employee who allowed him on a back dock unsupervised and a tower guard who unlocked the back gate that Hardin walked through without confirming his identity. Several other employees have been suspended and one demoted, lawmakers were told this week. The kitchen's staff was 'very lax on security', Hardin told investigators, allowing him to gather what he needed for his escape. He said he didn't have any help from staff or other inmates. Hardin had also constructed a ladder from wooden pallets to scale the prison fence but didn't need it. '[Hardin] stated when he walked up to the gate, he just directed the officer to 'open the gate,' and he did,' the report says. After he escaped from the prison, Hardin survived on food he had smuggled out of the prison along with distilled water from his Cpap machine – a device that treats sleep apnea. Hardin also drank creek water and ate berries, bird eggs and ants. 'He said his plan was to hide in the woods for six months if need be and begin moving west out of the area,' the report says. Hardin, a former police chief in the small town of Gateway, near the Arkansas-Missouri border, is serving lengthy sentences for murder and rape. He was the subject of the TV documentary Devil in the Ozarks. The report is one of two reviews into Hardin's escape, which is also being investigated by the Arkansas state police. A legislative subcommittee has also been holding hearings about the escape. Republican state representative Howard Beaty, co-chairperson of the legislative council's charitable, penal and correctional institutions subcommittee, said the panel hoped to discuss both reports with officials at a hearing in September. Republican state senator Ben Gilmore, who sits on the panel, said he didn't think the department's review took a thorough enough look at the systemic issues that enabled Hardin's escape. 'They have focused on the final failure instead of all of the things that led up to it,' he said. The report also cites confusion among corrections officials in the early stages of Hardin's escape about which law enforcement agencies had been notified. 'It is obvious there was a lot of confusion during the beginning stages of opening the command center and of notifications being made,' the report says. Hardin had been misclassified and shouldn't have been held at the primarily medium-security prison, according to the review. After he was captured, Hardin was moved to a maximum-security prison. He has pleaded not guilty to escape charges, and his trial is set for November. Hardin's custody classification hadn't been reviewed since October 2019, the report says. The corrections department's review says officials had taken several steps since Hardin's escape, including removing the electric locks from the gates to prevent someone from walking out without an officer present. The report also calls for additional cameras after finding a blind spot on the dock Hardin used – and for any 'shakedown' searches for contraband to include mechanical rooms and side rooms.
The Guardian
7 hours ago
- The Guardian
‘Devil in the Ozarks' spent months planning Arkansas prison escape
A former police chief known and convicted murderer known as 'the devil in the Ozarks' spent months planning his escape from an Arkansas prison, and he said lax security in the kitchen where he worked allowed him to gather the supplies he needed, according to an internal review by prison officials released on Friday. The state corrections department's critical incident review of Grant Hardin's 25 May escape from the Calico Rock prison provides the most detailed description so far of his planning – and the issues that allowed him to walk out of the facility. Hardin was captured 1.5 miles (2.4km) north-west of the Calico Rock prison on 6 June. Authorities said he escaped by donning an outfit he designed to look like a law enforcement uniform. Hardin, who worked in the prison's kitchen, said he spent six months planning his escape and used black Sharpie markers and laundry he found lying around the kitchen to create the fake uniform, according to the report. Hardin fashioned a fake badge using the lid of a can. 'Hardin stated he would hide the clothes and other items he was going to need in the bottom of a trash can in the kitchen due to no one ever shaking it down,' the report says. Two prison employees have been fired for procedure violations that led to Hardin's escape. They include a kitchen employee who allowed him on a back dock unsupervised and a tower guard who unlocked the back gate that Hardin walked through without confirming his identity. Several other employees have been suspended and one demoted, lawmakers were told this week. The kitchen's staff was 'very lax on security', Hardin told investigators, allowing him to gather what he needed for his escape. He said he didn't have any help from staff or other inmates. Hardin had also constructed a ladder from wooden pallets to scale the prison fence but didn't need it. '[Hardin] stated when he walked up to the gate, he just directed the officer to 'open the gate,' and he did,' the report says. After he escaped from the prison, Hardin survived on food he had smuggled out of the prison along with distilled water from his Cpap machine – a device that treats sleep apnea. Hardin also drank creek water and ate berries, bird eggs and ants. 'He said his plan was to hide in the woods for six months if need be and begin moving west out of the area,' the report says. Hardin, a former police chief in the small town of Gateway, near the Arkansas-Missouri border, is serving lengthy sentences for murder and rape. He was the subject of the TV documentary Devil in the Ozarks. The report is one of two reviews into Hardin's escape, which is also being investigated by the Arkansas state police. A legislative subcommittee has also been holding hearings about the escape. Republican state representative Howard Beaty, co-chairperson of the legislative council's charitable, penal and correctional institutions subcommittee, said the panel hoped to discuss both reports with officials at a hearing in September. Republican state senator Ben Gilmore, who sits on the panel, said he didn't think the department's review took a thorough enough look at the systemic issues that enabled Hardin's escape. 'They have focused on the final failure instead of all of the things that led up to it,' he said. The report also cites confusion among corrections officials in the early stages of Hardin's escape about which law enforcement agencies had been notified. 'It is obvious there was a lot of confusion during the beginning stages of opening the command center and of notifications being made,' the report says. Hardin had been misclassified and shouldn't have been held at the primarily medium-security prison, according to the review. After he was captured, Hardin was moved to a maximum-security prison. He has pleaded not guilty to escape charges, and his trial is set for November. Hardin's custody classification hadn't been reviewed since October 2019, the report says. The corrections department's review says officials had taken several steps since Hardin's escape, including removing the electric locks from the gates to prevent someone from walking out without an officer present. The report also calls for additional cameras after finding a blind spot on the dock Hardin used – and for any 'shakedown' searches for contraband to include mechanical rooms and side rooms.
