
Words: Sam Sherwood, Kurt Bayer
Design: Paul Slater
TED AND MIKE were mates. They’d grown up together in the freewheeling 70s and 80s in Halswell, a working-class southern suburb of Christchurch, just enough on the outskirts to feel like its own town. A rugby league outcrop in a rugby rah-rah city.
And while they weren’t besties – they would never confide their deepest inner feelings to each other, not like they both would to Dave "Ted" Benbow’s long-term partner Jo Green – they were mates.

Mike McGrath and Dave ‘Ted’ Benbow. Photos / Supplied, George Heard
Mike McGrath and Dave ‘Ted’ Benbow. Photos / Supplied, George Heard
Whenever Ted and Jo – who were upwardly mobile, with two rental properties and a satisfying lifestyle block – needed some handywork doing, they would call on Mike McGrath. Others would too, and word got about. Good, old dependable Mike. A fastidious, perfectionist carpenter craftsman. He could build anything. Sure, it might take a while, like Ted and Jo’s massive sweeping deck, or their girls’ intricate playhouse, but it wouldn’t fall down in any of the aftershocks that still occasionally rocked the place.

Michael McGrath at work. Photo / Supplied
Michael McGrath at work. Photo / Supplied
The couple would also share a private giggle when they paid Mike in cash. He was a cash man, everyone knew, and he would stash it in his walls. Pry the Gib back in his red brick Checketts Ave house that was still undergoing a years-long renovation, and hide it where the banks couldn’t get to it. Still on a sickness benefit after troubles with his legs (a voluntary operation on unsightly varicose veins left him in pain, with tingling sensations) he preferred cash. His two handles at the pub on a Saturday night with his brother Simon and his cronies, the usuals – Jimmy, Terry, Marty - were paid for with folding. If a third jar meant splitting a new $20 note, he’d say nah, make his excuses, reckon the mighty Crusaders would romp home anyway, and bike home while the others gently jibed about his tightness.
The last time Mike had been at Craythorne’s Hotel was for the Crusaders v Hurricanes match. Saturday, May 13.
“Happy as anything,” brother Simon, younger by a year and a day, would later say to the court.
Those close to him had noticed a subtle change in the meticulous Mike. His uniform of holey T-shirts, routinely worn over a long-sleeve polyprop, and matched with blue jeans were still to be seen, but he’d been spotted sporting some other threads lately. New clothes for Mike? What’s going on? Some whispered that he was maybe seeing Jo, now that she had taken the two girls and walked out on Ted.

Simon McGrath. Photo / George Heard
Simon McGrath. Photo / George Heard
While watching the rugby that night, brother Simon half-listened to the table’s criss-cross conversations. But he tended to zone out whenever gossip or D&Ms were going on. He did recall Mike having a “twinkle in his eye” though.
He’d got through his bout of depression by that point. After his leg operation in 2010, which coincided with the devastating Canterbury earthquakes, Mike suffered feelings of hopelessness and got “really quite low”, mum Adrienne told the court. “And it lasted for a wee while.”
But after seeking professional help for anxiety, and taking common anti-depressant medication, he seems to have improved slowly, and around 2014 most friends and family saw him back to his normal self.
He was doing cash jobs again, which seemed to help greatly, and he was getting back on his bike.

Michael McGrath was a keen cyclist. Photo / Supplied
Michael McGrath was a keen cyclist. Photo / Supplied
During the dark times, Ted and Jo, and others, would look out for him. Jo especially would check in, and even saw him dissolve into tears.
“We could talk about anything. We got on really well,” she would tell the court.
“I was there every time he needed - that’s what friends do.”
A few weeks earlier, Mike had phoned pub mate Terry Wilson and mentioned Ted and Jo splitting up.
“His exact words were, ‘Oh [Ted] is a bloody mug, he’s let the relationship go’,” Wilson would tell a jury. Mike, he recalled, felt that Ted had been too fixated on money and Jo had had enough.
Wilson was aware that Mike and Jo had “bounced off each other during hard times” and acted as sounding boards for each other.
Jo Green had met Dave "Ted" Benbow through her sister and brother-in-law while nursing in Invercargill. He was a telecommunications linesman who loved his footy and current events – a real Kiwi bloke.

They hit it off and she moved back to Christchurch around 2000 to be with him.
Ted already owned a property and saw it as their way up. Before the earthquakes, the couple, who never formally married, bought 43 Candys Rd, a semi-rural property with a bit of land just outside Halswell.
After moving out for a period while the quake-damaged house was repaired, they were enjoying the lifestyle but Jo felt her man was getting “very negative” about his work and bringing it home with him.
She also felt he was being very controlling, especially around finances and bank accounts, telling the court that he was obsessive about money.
“Our family came second to money,” she said. “Our family came second to work. Our family came second to a lot of things that we should have come first.”
Bringing up their two daughters, she was becoming unhappy and drinking a lot.
They both needed a change. So, after a chat with a neighbour who was a prison guard, Ted got inspired and applied for a job at Corrections. Meanwhile, Jo was rapt to get a teacher’s aide position at the girls’ local school, starting in the 2017 new year.
While Ted went to Wellington for Corrections training late in 2016 and early 2017, Mike was around most days, building the deck. It was taking ages, which seemed to occasionally irritate Ted, but nobody could ever fault the fine workmanship.
Ted would later suspect that period was when it started. But Jo and Mike vowed nothing was going on then.
The new careers hadn’t changed much. Jo was still unhappy. And by her birthday in February 2017, she’d made up her mind.
With their birthdays a few days apart, Jo and Mike would speak to each other every year and wish each other well. This time, she broke down.
“I couldn’t be with Dave anymore, it was just too toxic. [Mike] just listened to me,” she would tell the court.
When Mike stood up to leave, he kissed her on the forehead and said he thought a lot of her.
“I think a lot of you too,” she replied.
Ted didn’t take it well when Jo said it was over. He refused to move out. She took legal advice.

On March 3, 2017 she moved out while Ted was at work. Mike brought a trailer and gave her a hand. She turned off the property’s CCTV security system, which Ted was allegedly obsessed about. She didn’t want him replaying the scene over and over.
She even made a call to police that day, saying she was moving out and that she wasn’t sure how her partner would react.
“I was just covering my bases … and have a record that I have lodged my concerns, that it was a toxic relationship.”
Afterwards, she felt relief. That night, staying at her parents' place, she phoned Mike and apologised. That’s alright, all good, he said in his typical man-of-few-words way. She had always adored and respected Mike, a kind, good-looking fella who cared about her and her children.

She asked him if he would teach her how to kiss and be touched. They discussed whether getting together would ruin their friendship. Mike said they could be soulmates.
“I fancied you for years but we never acted on it... You were just so f****** loyal to him,” he told her.
Once she got her own wee rental, Mike would bike round for tea. Sometimes after the kids went to bed. He would park his bike in the kitchen “just in case we got busted”. Nobody knew anything. But they worried Ted was watching.
“I didn’t want to hurt [him]. It was none of his business but he also didn’t need to be hurt by that,” Jo says.
Mike never stayed the night and they didn’t always have sex.
But one day, April 30, one of her daughters saw them kissing. She told her dad. Ted told a mate he was pissed off.
After that moment, Ted's "world changed”, the Crown alleged. The next day, he called in sick at work. He rang his lawyer, his doctor. Tearful and lonely, he phoned Jo’s sister Toni, one of the few people he ever opened up to, and said he had lost everything.
On May 2, Ted went to see a counsellor. The break-up had left him lost, confused, and lonely. His health was going downhill, he wasn’t sleeping or eating. He told her about their assets, the rents. He felt shafted, a word she underlined in her notes.
Then Ted said one of his mates was starting to see Jo now – Mike.
He wanted to “annihilate” him.
Worried about Ted's state, Toni Green visited him at Candys Rd on May 8. He looked devastated, she said, kept playing things over in his head. Angry and sad, he suspected things had been going on while he was away over the summer.
Toni tried playing it down but he wasn’t having it.
“Bloody Michael,” he allegedly said. They’d been mates for years “and now he’s going around and shagging my ex-partner”.
That night, he hand-delivered a heartfelt letter to Jo. He accepts that he had neglected her needs as a woman and that they should’ve taken more family holidays. He missed the girls deeply, said she was a great mother, and said that he still loved her. He had lost someone very special.
Later, to a friend, he said that Mike had “stabbed him in the back”.
TED WAS THE last person to see Mike.
After dropping the girls off at Jo’s, he showed up at Checketts Ave on the evening of Sunday, May 21, 2017.
Mike was doing some Gib work, he said, and they yarned while watching rugby highlights on Prime TV. Another fella dropped round to pay for a cash job.
Ted said he wanted help shifting some heavy railway sleepers at Candys Rd in the morning. Mike agreed to swing by at 9am, he would later tell police, and give him a hand.
But Ted says he never showed up.
The Crown, however, would allege that he did. That Ted had planned to kill him that day. Lure him there over the railway sleepers and then use a Marlin 795 .22 semi-automatic rifle with suppressor and sub-sonic ammunition to shoot him dead, dispose of his body, and cover his tracks. Annihilate him.
Ted denied killing him, or ever seeing him after that Sunday night. It was a hard frost that morning which must’ve kept him away, he would say. Mike never showed.
Ted hung around waiting until about 9.45am, he would say, before he had to leave for a counsellor’s appointment in Riccarton at 10am (although he would tell police it was 10.15am).

In any event, Mike was missing. He was a creature of habit, reliable, highly predictable in his movements, according to his brother Simon.
Every Tuesday for the past 20 years or so, the brothers would go to their mum Adrienne’s house on Nicholls Rd, Halswell for tea. Mike had only ever missed it “once or twice”. Simon also ran like clockwork. He would arrive at precisely 6.35pm. Mike would already be there, his blue Subaru parked up the driveway.
As Adrienne dished up dinner around 6.40pm, Jo Green phoned the landline. She had spent the previous day, Monday May 22, trying to reach Mike. That day, she had phoned him 22 times.
“I just kept trying and trying and trying to get a hold of him,” she would say. “I was really concerned. Then I thought maybe he’s unhappy, I wasn’t sure, not totally sure.”
That Tuesday, she had tried ringing again. After work, she drove past Candys Rd and then went to Mike’s place on Checketts Ave. She knocked on the doors, no answer.
Aware of his usual Tuesday routine at his mum’s, she wanted to know if he had turned up.
“Where’s Michael?” she asked.
TED BENBOW WAS SAID to be a careful and deliberate man. But everyone makes mistakes.
And so did he, said the police.
Although there was no gun, no body, and few forensics, Operation Renovation detectives felt all his little miscalculations added up to reveal a guilty man.
Cellphones are the downfall of many modern-day crooks. Revealing texts, call logs, GPS data-tracking, even steps recorded can all provide a cellular smoking gun.
But on the day of the alleged murder – and on the days either side – Benbow hardly used his phone. He did have what the Crown called a couple of “interesting” internet searches, including "what are the organs of the human body" and a map of the Lincoln area, but otherwise there was little for detectives to delve into.
There was other digital evidence though, that the Crown said was pivotal. Benbow was “obsessed” with his high-tech home CCTV system, witnesses would say. There were three cameras at Candys Rd. Jo claimed he would watch them on a monitor, rewind and go over footage again and again.
“He could become fixated with things sometimes,” she said.
A week before Mike vanished, the CCTV system was turned off. The Crown said that was no coincidence.
Benbow doggedly stuck to his story that Mike never showed up that fresh autumn morning. It would go against his character though, the Crown would say, bringing in witness after witness to testify to Mike’s highly reliable, dependable nature.
And though the Candys Rd cameras weren’t working, others around town were. Detectives spent hundreds of hours trawling through footage from service station cameras, traffic footage, private home systems, and found what they say was Mike’s blue Subaru station wagon heading Benbow’s way, just as he said he would, that Monday morning. Two cameras at a Wales St house, around the corner from Mike’s Checketts Ave home, showed what cops believed was the car drive past at approximately 8.54am. One minute later, the New World supermarket’s CCTV camera captures the Subaru turning down Oakridge St, heading in the direction of Candys Rd.

Justice Jonathan Eaton presided over the proceedings. Photo / George Heard
Justice Jonathan Eaton presided over the proceedings. Photo / George Heard
Defence experts picked holes in the footage highlighting the absence of a black dot on the mag wheel. However, a police officer who reviewed the footage said in his opinion whether the dot was there or not, it would be unlikely it would show up due to the quality of the footage.
Mike's car also had a completely different front bumper, front grill, and mag wheels to standard second-generation Subaru Legacy station wagons.
At the retrial, it was revealed there were 124 blue second-generation Subaru legacy station wagons registered with owners in the wider Canterbury region in May 2017.
Only four of these vehicles were registered to owners in Halswell. One was wrecked the previous year and two others looked "visually very different", Crown prosecutor Barnaby Hawes said.
Lyttelton port worker Stephen Robinson would become a key witness in the trials.
He had just tied up a Nelson fishing boat (port records say it was done by 8.31am) and was driving back to Rolleston. Avoiding some roadworks, he went down Candys Rd in his white Toyota Corolla and saw two men talking at the roadside.
The Englishman described one white, slim, fair-haired man wearing a red T-shirt over a long-sleeved top, thinking it was a very Kiwi thing to wear, and another, heavier-set man, who had his back to him, wearing a dark woollen top.

Michael McGrath was captured buying groceries at New World, Halswell on Friday, May 19, 2017.
Michael McGrath was captured buying groceries at New World, Halswell on Friday, May 19, 2017.
He also reportedly saw a dark blue Subaru parked on the side of the road.
The problem was exactly when this was. When he first spoke to the police, after seeing media coverage of a missing local man, he thought it would’ve been about 12.30pm - and wasn’t sure whether it was May 21 or May 22.
A second statement to police on December 28, 2017, had Robinson put the time about 10am on Monday, May 22.
But when asked in court he said it would have been about 9am.
In his closing address at the retrial, Hawes admitted there were "obvious limitations" to his evidence.
Robinson was driving and had no particular reason to pay attention to what he was seeing.
He added Robinson had no connection to anyone in the case and had no axe to grind. He did not purport to identify anyone, he just reported what clothing the men were wearing.
Benbow's lead defence counsel Kirsten Gray told the jury there was no evidence to show exactly when he left work that morning.
She called Robinson "completely unreliable", and said his evidence needed to be treated with "extreme caution".
"Mr Robinson has been panelbeated by the police and was completely suggestible."
Benbow’s lawyers warned the jury of “investigative bias” and “tunnel vision” from police early in their investigations.
The Crown accepted “exactly what [Benbow] did within that hour when he murdered Mr McGrath is not known” but what they did know was that Benbow's gun, the Marlin 795 .22 semi-automatic rifle, was missing.
Blood loss from that type of small calibre gun would be a “passive ooze” rather than a shower of blood splatter, according to expert pathologist Dr Martin Sage. Out of more than 100 cases that he’d looked at over the past 35 years, there were only two cases where there was a .22 bullet exit-wound.
“Clearly in the scenario where an assailant fatally shot a person in the head with a .22 rifle firing conventional, hollow-point, subsonic ammunition I would not expect this to lead to significant trace evidence of bone, brain tissue, scalp tissue or even blood at the scene,” he told a jury.

“If the deceased was attended to more or less immediately and the head contained in absorbent or waterproof wrapping, there might be no blood loss at the scene at all.”
When interviewed by police, as the person to have last seen Mike, Benbow told them his firearm was secured in his garage roof space. But when officers went to check, it wasn’t there. Nor was the key to the firearm; the lock used to secure it to a rafter; ammunition; and the firearm cleaning kit.
“All of these items were stored separately. All of them are missing,” said Crown prosecutor Claire Boshier.

Crown prosecutor Claire Boshier speaks to the jury at the beginning of the trial. Photo / Kai Schwoerer
Crown prosecutor Claire Boshier speaks to the jury at the beginning of the trial. Photo / Kai Schwoerer
And then there were Benbow’s movements. He would be “very busy” around that time, Boshier would stress to the jury.
On the way back from his counselling appointment, he bought $20 of petrol - despite having bought $40 just the day before - and “likely a packet of grass seed”.
When police examined Candys Rd, parts of the lawn around the deck were dug out and had fresh grass seed sown, despite the fact that it was nearly winter.
After killing Mike, the Crown case was that Benbow then disposed of his body in a carefully selected spot, one that he knew well, and had time to prepare.
At 3.23pm on May 22, Benbow was seen on CCTV walking across the forecourt of the Challenge service station in Tai Tapu. He walked inside the shop and came out a few minutes later holding something in a white paper bag. The transaction was paid for in cash, and police were unsure what he had purchased. Shortly after his car was seen heading south on State Highway 75 (SH75) towards Akaroa.
There was no footage of him coming back into town via Tai Tapu. However, at 8.30pm Benbow turned up at a friend’s home to borrow a jump pack for a car battery which he claimed was for his mum.
The Crown said this request was crucial to their case. Mike kept his station wagon hooked up to a trickle charger. The charger keeps sufficient charge in the battery for the car to start. The battery, which was seven years old, had been causing Mike trouble for years, but frugal as ever, he did not get a new one.
One of Mike’s mates, Martin Roder, said in a statement to police that he’d given a car battery charger to Mike because he had two. The trickle charger would slowly charge the battery overnight. Roder said Mike told him: “That’s good, if I need to use it the next day, I can charge it up overnight.”
The Crown alleged that Mike did drive to Candys Rd, and after he was shot dead by his mate, Benbow moved the car from the roadside, which they said would not have been an issue given it was charged overnight.
However, this would not be the case later in the day, and at 7.07pm Benbow made his first call of the day to his friend Paul Floris and left a message on his answerphone. Floris said Benbow asked if he had a jump starter pack for his mum’s car.
After striking out with Floris, Benbow called another trusty friend, Ashley Beveridge. Ashley did not answer either. He tried calling Benbow back twice but could not reach him.
Benbow later showed up at Beveridge's home unannounced to say he needed a jump starter pack for his mum’s car as she was away and his car was going in to get some rust repairs. Beveridge happily obliged.
However, Benbow’s mum’s car had a “relatively new” battery in it, which she purchased in 2015. The Crown alleged the jump pack was actually for Mike’s car.
“He had to get Mr McGrath’s car back to Checketts Ave before Mr McGrath was reported missing. He could not have Mr McGrath’s car at his house when it was known Mr McGrath was missing,” Boshier said.
“This battery issue was not part of the plan.”
Then, just before 10pm on May 22, Benbow arrived at the BP2GO petrol station in Halswell. Despite his earlier petrol stops, he needed another $20 worth.
CCTV footage allegedly showed mud on his jeans, and that Benbow had changed clothes for the third time that day.
On Tuesday, May 23 – the day after the alleged murder – Benbow was spotted at 9.47am in his silver Toyota Camry, the Crown said, travelling south on SH75 towards Akaroa, the historic French and British settlement on Banks Peninsula. The Camry was spotted coming back at 11.21am.
Then, about 1.30pm he went to the dump.
Enhanced video footage, which would be played to the jury, showed Benbow reversing to the pit of Parkhouse Rd Eco-drop transfer station and getting out of the car. The view was initially obscured by a skip and then a flat-deck truck. Senior Constable Danny Schaare told a jury how he was then seen taking a tied-up, white plastic bag from his car boot and dumping two handfuls of dark-coloured clothing. He also threw away dark-coloured pants, a pair of shoes, some other small items, and then a long, skinny, rigid, item approximately 1m long, a small piece of fabric of cloth and a piece of paper or plastic.
At 1.32pm, he paid a $9.60 minimum dump fee after throwing away less than 20kg, and left.
Over eight days, between May 15-23, Benbow drove 642km. His explanations to police could not account for the extra petrol use or distance travelled.
The Crown case was that after killing Mike, Benbow disposed of his body in a carefully selected spot, one he knew well, and had time to prepare.
By Friday, May 26, 2017, the case had become a murder probe. Police brought Benbow in for questioning.
He appeared relaxed, even playing down his feelings, the Crown alleged, over Jo’s new relationship with Mike, saying it was none of his business as they had split up.
“You sort of think about it, but you move on,” he told Detective Sergeant Aaron Paulsen.

Benbow's police interview with Detective Aaron Paulsen. Photo / George Heard
Benbow's police interview with Detective Aaron Paulsen. Photo / George Heard
Benbow said he'd had a counselling appointment that morning, May 22, before seeing someone about rust repairs for his Camry and then checking on his mother’s house in Viceroy Place in Halswell. He returned home to work around the house, he said.

But he said he couldn’t remember what he did the night before.
In his second formal police interview, about a week later, the pressure was ramping up. Police couldn’t find the gun where Benbow said it should be and he had no explanation for that.
Detective Sergeant Phillip Sparks put it straight to him that he was behind Mike’s disappearance.
“I haven’t had anything to do with the disappearance of Michael... I wouldn’t do anything,” he says.
Asked to give one good reason why he should be believed, Benbow replied: “Cos I haven’t done anything... I don’t have a motive. I’m not that sort of person.”
But Sparks suggested he did have a motive, that he had told his sister-in-law Toni Green that Jo and Mike had been shagging and that “every human has got a breaking point”.
Benbow pushed back, saying he was just burnt out from the stress of house repairs and work, but was not broken.
“I can see you’re pushing me, just trying to push me into something,” he said.
“I’ve given the truth, I haven’t done anything... I know it looks bad, but how do you think I feel … makes me look like a c*** doesn’t it.”
An Australian expert in geo-forensics – “the science of search” - would tell the trial that in homicides, water was often a killer’s go-to method of disposal.
It follows the “least effort principle” of disposal, ex-Australian Federal Police head of intelligence Mark Harrison said.
While movies often showed criminals digging graves for victims’ bodies, in real life it was rare, due to the effort required, he said.
A body disposal area was usually known to the offender, Harrison said, easy to access, with clear, permanent identifiable features or markers, like a large conspicuous boulder, and would have a good chance of not being seen by potential witnesses.
Police had already searched the streets and sheds around Mike’s Checketts Ave house. Ponds, streams, culverts, drains, open farmland, and hedgerows in the area were checked, along with a gravel pit and forest in Birdlings Flat and parts of Lincoln. Police divers had plumbed the depths of Halswell Quarry.
They had spent days at Candys Rd too, combing over the property, even draining a septic tank.
After looking at the case, and hearing what cops had done, Harrison concluded: “I am therefore of the opinion that the Halswell River and wetlands would’ve afforded Benbow a highly-suitable location to conceal and dispose of McGrath.”
Benbow could have parked close to the river and carried Mike’s body, perhaps using a tarpaulin or other wrapping, the witness said.
“In this case, Benbow had a significant window of time to conduct effective reconnaissance and even through trial and error choose the most suitable location with the highest probability of concealment within a short distance of where he could’ve parked his vehicle on any of the aforementioned access points to the Halswell River,” he said.
Digging a shelf into the side of the riverbank would’ve been easier than digging downwards, Harrison said.
But given the changeable, dynamic nature of the river, if Mike’s body had been there, “his remains may have already been removed either through natural forces, flushing, or those undertaken by the land management processes.”
A “flushing effect” was a highly-likely scenario, Harrison said, meaning a body buried in a riverbank could have been washed into the river, potentially out to Lake Ellesmere which the river feeds into, and even further out to the open ocean.
A 2km stretch of river and its wetlands were scoured in July 2018. It was in the Tai Tapu and Motukarara area, southwest of SH75. The boundaries, bracketed by Neales Rd, Geddes Rd, Ridge Rd, and Matthews, were marked with GPS and dazzle paint.
It was a vast area.
“The enormity of the task was not lost on me when I arrived,” said Nigel Barton, a senior constable attached to the CIB’s tactical crime squad.
There were police dogs, a specialist search group, dive squad, SAR team, and a drone operator, and they did “purposeful wandering”, intensive probing, used metal detectors and shovels. They found sheep or calf bones but no Mike.
“We did the best that we could,” Barton said.
Then, investigators turned to the dump. Where did the stuff Benbow threw into the Parkhouse Rd tip end up?
Kate Valley Landfill in the Hurunui foothills.
It led police to conduct one of the least enviable investigations in New Zealand history.
For more than two months, 20-28 officers and NZ Army soldiers, spent hours sifting through hundreds of tonnes of filthy, stinking, decaying, wretched waste, searching for clues in the missing man mystery.
They were trying to find anything that could help, but mainly they were on the lookout for clothing, Mike’s keys, and the gun.
It was painstaking, awful, career-reconsidering work.
Some 200-300 reeking pairs of jeans were found, checked, and dismissed. An officer who used to be a locksmith examined every key that was uncovered but none fitted Mike’s house or car.
After some 8000 man-hours, dredging 2500 tonnes of rubbish, they walked away empty-handed. No clues, no forensic evidence. It was another “needle in a haystack”, the Crown would later admit.
It was another frustration for investigators in what was becoming a baffling case.
But on September 30, 2019 - Benbow’s 51st birthday – he was arrested and charged with Mike’s murder.
Nearly four years later, the case finally came to trial in Courtroom 12 of the High Court in Christchurch. However, after hearing from more than 100 witnesses and deliberating for four days the jury was unable to reach a verdict, and a hung jury was declared.
Five months later the re-trial began before a new jury of 12.
Crown prosecutor Barnaby Hawes closed the Crown case by acknowledging it was a circumstantial case, with no body to examine, no murder weapon, no DNA, and no confessions.
However, he said the case against Benbow was “compelling and it’s decisive”.
He said it was not the Crown’s case that this was the “perfect murder”.
"Mr Benbow is a careful and deliberate man but everyone makes mistakes … He's hidden his body well and utilised an outdoor scene to his advantage, kept things very simple, and spoken to nobody about it. Nevertheless, I suggest the facts speak for themselves and prove murder beyond reasonable doubt."
He told the jury that if they found a set of individually reliable facts to not look at them individually, but in combination.
He asked the jury whether Benbow had just been unlucky to have "significant" evidence suggesting his involvement in a homicide, or was it that he was involved.
"That's not like lightning striking twice in the same place. In the context of this case, this is lightning striking the same place over and over again."
Power consumption at Mike's home was a significant talking point in both trials.
Hawes told the jury the power evidence they heard was "entirely supportive" of Mike leaving his home before 9am on May 22 to drive to see Benbow.
In contrast, Benbow's lead defence counsel Kirsten Gray said the power evidence was consistent with him being home after 9am and possibly up to 5pm.
In her closing, Gray said the Crown's case was based on a "theory".
“A theory that was first thought up by Joanna Green, the theory that Mr Benbow had done something to Mr McGrath. And it’s a theory that is desperately searching for evidence,” she said.
Gray referred to the Crown suggesting the case was like strands of a rope, that once they come together make a rope so strong that you can rely on it beyond reasonable doubt.
“Be very cautious about that submission. If you look at the strands of the rope in detail you might be left scratching your head. The strength of the rope members of the jury is your domain, it's for you to decide. But you need to ask yourselves at the outset do you accept that this is a rope, or as I suggest is it just a pile of tattered threads, a house of cards not capable of withstanding any serious probing.”
She said the jury had more evidence that police focused only on Benbow than evidence of anything else, citing the 8000 hours they spent searching a dump compared to the 800 hours looking for McGrath.
“This doesn't amount to a rope and it certainly doesn't get you to the high standard of beyond reasonable doubt.
"In my submission, the Crown case is a house of cards built on shakey foundations which if you give it any real probing will simply fall over and if you drill into what is being alleged then things don't make sense and the improbability of their entire case is glaringly obvious."
It was up to a second jury to decide.
A SHOVEL IN hand, Simon McGrath walks through the knee-high grass near a river on the outskirts of Christchurch.
The ground is undulating, and he knows his chances are “basically impossible” but he has to try.
It’s been six years since his brother was last seen alive at his home on Checketts Ave, Halswell.
In that time he’s searched everywhere he can think of. At first, it was every weekend, but as the years have gone on he’s struggled to think of somewhere new.
He has been here before, searching, in the months after his brother’s disappearance but the idea of going back again has been nagging at him lately and he says he had to put it to bed so he could stop thinking about it.

While there he spots a pile of dirt near the river and begins to dig a hole, hoping he will find something connected to his brother’s disappearance.
“In the early days, it was really quite daunting, because I used to say to myself, ‘Jesus, I’m looking for the body of my brother’; it was really quite harrowing… I knew he wasn’t coming back," he told the Herald.
As with all of his searching to date, the dig comes up without any clues.
“I very rarely go out nowadays, that was probably the last one. I just wanted to cover something off,” he says.
“After you search for a while and you’ve done a lot of places you tend to go over the same place… you run out of options.”


Mike was the older of the two brothers. Simon arrived the day before Michael's first birthday.
“He was a good brother,” Simon says.
“He was loyal, he was loyal to everyone.”
The brothers played sport together from a young age, with Mike the slightly more athletic of the two.
Growing up in Halswell, a tight-knit community, the two shared many mutual friends.
Mike got into building when he left school, and was known for doing quality work, Simon says.
“He wouldn’t do any wrong to anyone, he wouldn’t rip anyone off, he would rather be open and honest. He was often very quiet though, he was a deep thinker.
“I suppose I was more outgoing of the two in terms of the social side, and he was more reserved.”
Mike, who had not used a mobile phone for a long time, and did not use social media, “lived off the smell of an oily rag”.

Simon McGrath (blue backpack) and his older brother Michael were very close and enjoyed tramping together in the South Island. Photo / Supplied.
Simon McGrath (blue backpack) and his older brother Michael were very close and enjoyed tramping together in the South Island. Photo / Supplied.
“He wasn’t very materialistic… money was not something he’d just splash around, he’d always been a good saver and always pretty particular with money.”
Simon last saw his brother on May 15, 2017 when he walked into his mother’s home for their weekly Tuesday dinner.
“He was happy as Larry… he had a massive smile on his face, (a) twinkle in his eye, wearing some new clothes.”

The pair had caught up for beers at their local pub, Craythornes Hotel, days earlier while the Crusaders played the Hurricanes.
In between his younger brother placing some bets as the Crusaders took the victory 20-12, Mike mentioned Benbow and how he and Green had recently broken up.
“He did mention at one point that David had crashed and burned so I thought to myself, well you be bloody careful.”
Mike did not disclose to his brother that he was actually in a relationship with Green.
A week later, on May 22, 2017, Simon was sitting at his mother, Adrienne McGrath’s home, waiting for his brother to arrive when the phone rang. Mike was a creature of habit, so it was unusual for him not to be at dinner. He had only missed about two occasions in the 20-odd years prior.
Adrienne picked up the phone. On the other end was Green, who had not heard from Mike since Sunday when he had told her Benbow had asked him to come over the next day to help with some sleepers.
“I didn’t really know what she said… but once Mum hung up she sort of intimated that Jo believed David had done something.”
At that point, Green suspected Benbow had done something.
Leaving the kids at her parents’ place, she went over. She burst indoors, Adrienne recalled to the court, and said, “I hope David hasn’t done anything to him.”
Green rounded up Simon and they drove to Checketts Ave.
When they arrived they noticed his brother’s car parked in the driveway, which was unusual as he always left it in the garage, and that the curtains were open.
They knocked on the door and looked around but there was no response. Simon then climbed through the toilet window by pulling the louvres out.
“There was no sign of life.
“The house looked pretty much the same as it ever did. There was no sign of any struggle. He had the bare minimum in his house anyway, there was nothing within that home that concerned me.

McGrath's Checketts Avenue home in Halswell. Photo / Kurt Bayer
McGrath's Checketts Avenue home in Halswell. Photo / Kurt Bayer
“The only thing that concerned me is that he wasn’t there, and if he wasn’t there he should’ve been at Mum's.”
Simon grabbed a torch from inside the house and shone it in the garage. His brother’s bike was inside.
Green had mentioned that Mike was supposed to visit Benbow the day before and that she was worried.
“I basically knew where his last point was, and his last point said he never turned up. Well, Michael turns up, and David was supposedly a friend, but Michael turns up when he’s going to turn up.

“The alarm bells started ringing after that… I thought … surely he wouldn’t do that… instinctively you know pretty much where the issue is going to be of where the concern lies.”
They phoned police.
“Do you think that David might have hurt him?” the call-taker asks Green.
“I do.”
Then she rang Benbow.
“What have you done with him? Where is he?” she demanded.
“Look, I haven’t done anything.”
Simon spent the evening ringing his father, and some of his brother’s friends to check if they had seen him. No one had.
Police had also asked if he could get some photos of his brother, so he spent hours on his brother’s old computer trying to find some.
Then, about 1am, he and a friend drove to Benbow’s Candy’s Rd property to see the last known place his brother had been.
Holding his phone he showed his friend he had Benbow’s phone number, before he accidentally called him. The phone rang, but went to voicemail.
The following day Benbow called back. It appeared he did not have Simon’s number saved.
Simon asked if Benbow had seen his brother, Benbow said he was supposed to arrive about 9am to help move some railway sleepers but had not shown up, citing the frost as a potential reason.
“He said ‘he’s been good lately, hasn’t he, Simon? I’ve done stuff for him, he’s done stuff for me’, he downplayed it. Like he had gone walkabouts.”

In another conversation that morning Simon asked Benbow what colour his car was, to which he replied it was blue, but after some further digging Simon discovered the former prison guard owned a silver Toyota Camry.
Simon would next hear from Benbow about a week after his brother’s disappearance while he was sitting at the police station about halfway through his interview with police. Benbow texted him to say he had given a statement to police.
After checking his phone, Simon told the police officer about the text who told him to reply “thanks”.
It was the last time the two would talk.
“All my other mates that Michael knew in some form or another got in touch, I saw them. Benbow was the only one we didn’t see or hear from.”

Within four days of Mike being reported missing, police had set up a homicide inquiry. However, one thing they did not have was a body.
Knowing the public could be crucial to solving the case, Simon and some friends did maildrops to properties throughout Halswell and surrounding areas.
Police had divers searching lakes, and members of the specialist search squad searching nearby areas including the Halswell Quarry and Birdlings Flat.
Simon also went out with friends looking anywhere he could think of that may be connected.
“You’re looking for obvious signs… diggings, obvious mounds.
“It was a bloody terrible time and I’ll never forget it… sometimes I’d be in bed and thinking about something and then I wanted to go make sure I’d checked it out and just to close it off otherwise I’d always be thinking about it.”
Simon describes the searches as being like finding a needle in a haystack.
“I knew pretty much straight away that if this guy's done it it’s not going to be an easy find. I said to police early on, Benbow’s going to make it look like Michael’s walked off the face of the earth because I know that’s the way he thinks.”
Throughout the police investigation Simon says police always kept in touch and said they were still gathering information.
“I’d never given up hope. It was a thorough, detailed investigation with enormous manhours. I think there was a clear trail, they just had to get enough evidence.
“A lot of people I think had assumed he wasn’t going to get arrested because it went on for a couple of years, but the police always gave us some sort of hope.”

Two years and four months after Mike was reported missing the officer in charge of the investigation, Detective Inspector Kylie Schaare notified the family they were set to arrest Benbow.
Simon says he was “very relieved” at the news.
“I thought, you beauty - it’s a step in the right direction. The next hurdle is to get a guilty verdict.”
After a series of delays and adjournments the family were forced to wait more than three years for the trial to get under way.
Simon says while he was frustrated with how long it took for the trial begin, the opening of the trial did bring back a lot of emotions.
Sitting in the back of the courtroom, just metres from where Benbow sat flanked by prison guards on either side, Simon felt uneasy about being in the same room as the man accused of killing his brother.
“It just gives me the creeps. There’s something about him. He’s quite an intense, stone-faced figure.”

David Benbow, was also known by many as 'Ted'. Photo / George Heard
David Benbow, was also known by many as 'Ted'. Photo / George Heard
He described the trial process as “quite surreal”.
“You go to court and it’s almost like you’re watching someone else’s movie. I’m sitting there listening to this and think s***, this is my brother they’re talking about. It’s really hard.”
One of the things that bugged Simon the most as he listened, that nagged at him, was the lack of a body. He worried that might stop the jury from reaching a guilty verdict.
He tried not to ponder it too much but the thought of a not guilty verdict had crossed his mind.
“For me it would be like he’s done such a good job, he’s done just enough to get off and it would be really difficult for me to deal with knowing someone has just got off with murder.
“Once you’ve been through the court process and someone’s come out the other end, and if they’re not convicted, it’s pretty much all over really. There’s nowhere to turn, I’m not looking for anything else. Somehow I would have to learn to accept it if that is the case.”
He recalls a myriad of emotions running through his mind waiting at the back of the courtroom for a verdict in the first trial.
"It was emotionally draining and the longer the deliberations only accentuated these emotions.
"The hung jury result was immensely deflating. Everyone including the police and the Crown had put so much time and energy into the case, and we knew the outcome meant we were likely to have to do it all again."
On Thursday, after 18 hours of deliberating the jury returned a guilty verdict.
Simon sat at the back of the courtroom once again as the foreperson read the verdict.
"It was hugely emotional. I've never felt anything like it, it's been one hell of a ride over the last six years and I'm just elated."
He said it was a "bittersweet" moment.
"Michael was a meticulous and talented builder who was hugely loyal, humble, and unassuming - he is sorely missed.
"Michael has been taken away from us in the most cowardly, premeditated, and murderous manner. The horrific nature, trauma, and legacy of this despicable act will haunt the family for the rest of our lives."
He said the family thanked the police for their "care, professionalism, ongoing commitment, and tenacity" during the investigation as well as the Crown prosecutors.

Photo / George Heard
Photo / George Heard

Despite the guilty verdict, Simon says there will be no closure until his brother’s body is found.
Asked if there was anything he would like to ask Benbow, he thinks for a second before ruling out asking why, confident he would never get a true answer.
“People like him always blame someone else,” he replies.

“I want to know ‘where did you put him?’, that always comes to mind. The family thinks about where all the time, but we all accepted he’s not going to divulge.”
He describes Benbow’s actions as “cowardly” and does not think he should ever be released from prison if he does not say where Mike is. Forgiveness is also out of the question, he says.
“He’s caused the family, everyone that knows Michael grief and something we can never get back, he can’t bring Michael back now, he’s done it.
“Benbow knew exactly what he was doing, he has shown absolutely no remorse or disclosed where he disposed of Michael’s body, he should get the maximum sentence and should never be let out of prison.”

Mike's home on Checketts Ave looks pretty much the same as it did when police descended on May 23, 2017.
His mother still goes around to mow the lawns and do the garden.
“It’s the last thing she has of Michael,” Simon says.
“It’s the last place he was to her.”
The family still does Tuesday dinner at Adrienne’s home.
“It’s so hard early on, you knew someone is missing from the family dinner” Simon recalls.
“You knew one person wasn’t there… it took a long time to adjust but now it’s the new norm. But you still think about it… think he should be here.”
They try not to dwell on Mike’s disappearance while at dinner nowadays, and instead discuss the week and “just catch up”.
Simon has tried his best to get on with his life, but says the pain never goes away.
He has recurring visions about what he thinks his brother’s last moments alive were like.
“I just imagine Benbow shooting him and then trying to clean up the evidence, putting his body in the boot and dumping him in a hole somewhere and burying him.
“Then I think: how could someone actually do that?”
Simon describes the ordeal his family have been through as “one hell of a time”.
“It’s something that you never thought you’d ever have to go through. Those early days, early years are just tormenting.
“You don’t wish it upon anyone. It’s the worst thing that’s happened in my life. It’s indescribable.”
But as he walks out of the High Court at Christchurch he can smile knowing his brother has finally got justice.
NEW ZEALAND HAS a short, yet complicated, history of murder where the victim’s body has never been found.
The absence of a body in a murder trial does not preclude a jury from finding the accused guilty.
But, historically, and across the world, such cases have been hard to prove, leaving prosecutors relying heavily on circumstantial evidence - evidence of facts from which conclusions can be drawn - to secure a conviction.
One of the most infamous international bodiless cases was the 1984 disappearance of 7-year-old schoolboy Mark Tildesley who vanished after leaving his home for a fairground in Wokingham.

Mark Tildesley. 7-year-old schoolboy Mark Tildesley who vanished after leaving his home for a fairground in Wokingham, England. Photo / Supplied
Mark Tildesley. 7-year-old schoolboy Mark Tildesley who vanished after leaving his home for a fairground in Wokingham, England. Photo / Supplied
Six years later, it emerged that he had been abducted, drugged, tortured, raped and murdered by a London-based paedophile gang.
Leslie Bailey was charged with murder and given two life sentences. He was murdered in prison by other inmates shortly afterwards.
English serial killer John George Haigh, known as the Acid Bath Murderer, wrongly believed that dissolving a body in acid would make a murder conviction impossible.

English serial killer John George Haigh. Photo / Supplied
English serial killer John George Haigh. Photo / Supplied
He had misinterpreted the Latin legal phrase corpus delicti, which refers to the body of evidence which establishes a crime, to mean an actual human body.
But part of the dentures of his last victim was presented at his 1949 trial, allowing her dentist to identify them.
Haigh was eventually convicted for the murder of six people - although he claimed to have killed nine – and was hanged.
And in New Zealand, there appear to have been four bodiless murder cases, with the Scott Watson conviction the first one to come to most people’s minds.
The former Picton boatbuilder is serving a life sentence, which came with a minimum non-parole period of 17 years, for the 1998 murders of Olivia Hope, 17, and Ben Smart, 21.
Hope and Smart disappeared after boarding a stranger’s yacht early on January 1, 1998, after marking the New Year with friends at Furneaux Lodge, a century-old, boat access-only resort in Endeavour Inlet.

Left to right, killer, Scott Watson and victims, Ben Smart and Olivia Hope. Photos / Supplied
Left to right, killer, Scott Watson and victims, Ben Smart and Olivia Hope. Photos / Supplied
Their bodies have never been found.
Watson has always denied killing, or even ever meeting, Hope and Smart and the case is still subject to a High Court legal challenge to be heard this year, with key issues still being identification, disclosure, and forensic evidence.

Scott Watson in court in 2015. Photo / John Kirk-Anderson
Scott Watson in court in 2015. Photo / John Kirk-Anderson
The police investigation that led to Watson’s arrest has been criticised in numerous newspaper articles, documentaries and books, particularly Trial by Trickery by Auckland journalist Keith Hunter, a stinging attack on those who put Watson away.
But it wasn’t the first infamous bodiless case in New Zealand legal history.
George Cecil Horry was an English-born career criminal and conman.
As a 16-year-old he emigrated with his family Down Under, but within a year he had 20 charges for assault, breaking and entering, and theft, and was sent to borstal for three years.
By 1935, he was going by George Horace Collver, a “steel manufacturer from Wentworth”, England, and married Evelyn Edna Bates (nee Louisson), a divorcee, according to his biography on Te Ara.

George Cecil Horry. Photo / Supplied
George Cecil Horry. Photo / Supplied
They moved to Sydney but Horry was soon caught issuing bad cheques, jailed for three years, and deported.
He was soon arrested again, this time for entering a house and "demanding money by menaces" and declared a “habitual criminal”.
While back behind bars, his marriage broke up.
On his release, and as World War II raged, the serial trickster had met another divorcee, Mary Eileen Jones (nee Spargo), calling himself George Arthur Turner, “son of an English cutlery manufacturer” and that he was “privately wealthy and would inherit a title”, the Te Ara biography says.
Claiming he was behind secret munitions for the British government, he avoided being photographed, even at the wedding on July 11, 1942, and told her parents they might not hear from their daughter for some time as he was heading back to the UK to continue his cloak-and-dagger duties.
The next day, the newlyweds visited a friend in Titirangi and Eileen was never seen again.
Five months later, Horry was married under his real name to Eunice Marcel Geale and a week after the wedding "George Turner" visited Eileen’s parents to tell them she had been lost at sea when their ship was torpedoed in the Atlantic Ocean by a Nazi submarine.
Horry was later charged with murder and was the first person to stand trial in New Zealand with no body having been found.
A traceable path of Eileen’s money into Horry’s hands immediately after the marriage and his “demonstrably false and self-contradictory attempts to explain her disappearance” all formed links in a strong chain of circumstantial evidence that convicted him, Te Ara says.
The jury took less than three hours to find him guilty.
Horry was sentenced to life imprisonment and was released in 1967. He died in 1981 and never disclosed the whereabouts of Eileen’s body.
The Horry case helped to overturn a long-standing expectation that such cases would fail.
In 2019, David Owen Lyttle was convicted of murdering his friend Brett Hall after a lengthy jury trial in the Whanganui District Court and was jailed for 11 years.
It was alleged he shot Hall at his remote Whanganui property in 2011 and disposed of his body, which has never been found, and admitted the killing to an undercover officer who had pretended to befriend him on a fishing trip as part of a sting known as “Mr Big”.

David Owen Lyttle. Photo / RNZ, Anne Marie May
David Owen Lyttle. Photo / RNZ, Anne Marie May
However, Lyttle, who has always maintained his innocence, appealed his conviction to the Court of Appeal and was granted a retrial.
The murder charge was quashed.
Justice Simon France threw out the murder charge on a lack of direct forensic evidence, finding that the defence case that Hall was killed by his drug dealing associates was more compelling than the prosecution theory Lyttle was responsible.

Palmerston North man Brett Hall. Photo / NZPA
Palmerston North man Brett Hall. Photo / NZPA
Darrell Crawford, 35, was last seen at his Bay of Plenty home on August 16, 2007 home. His car was later found with the keys still in the ignition.
Police upgraded the case to a homicide inquiry in 2008, linking his disappearance to that of 41-year-old William Taikato, who was believed to have been murdered around the same time.

Darrell Crawford. Photo / Supplied
Darrell Crawford. Photo / Supplied
Their bodies were never found, police believing they were killed over a drugs deal.
Mark Haimona Puata, David Peter James Anderson and John Aitken were later charged with murdering Taikato.
But midway through a 2011 trial at the High Court in Rotorua, the trio were acquitted, with Justice Joseph Williams telling the jury that the steps he was taking were exceptional, but were necessary as a result of the way the evidence had flowed and “intense” arguments put by defence counsel.
