The man who denies he is president of the Head Hunters and the prosecutor targeting his wealth have squared off in days of tense cross-examination. George Block reports.
In September 2017 police raided the Ellerslie pad of the Head Hunters and several other properties linked to Wayne Doyle, the man they claim is the gang’s president.
The raids were part of a civil investigation dubbed Operation Coin attempting to force him to forfeit wealth police allege is tainted with the proceeds of organised crime.
To defend the complex case, Doyle needed money for legal fees.
He was not short of offers of help.
Six years on, after the case finally found its way to trial at the Auckland High Court, Doyle was forced to field questions about one of those contributions, traced via Hong Kong to the wife of a convicted Auckland drug dealer.
The Police Commissioner is attempting to force the 68-year-old to forfeit assets allegedly tainted with the ill-gotten gains of Head Hunters members using the Criminal Proceeds Recovery Act.
Police and Doyle’s lawyer Ron Mansfield KC have now finished presenting evidence three weeks into the Judge-alone civil trial before Justice Peter Andrew. The prosecution will close their case next week and Mansfield the week after.
Police are seeking profit forfeiture orders totalling more than $15 million against Doyle. They are targeting five properties linked to the pensioner and alleged gang boss, including the sprawling pad and gym of the Head Hunters East chapter at 232 Marua Rd, Ellerslie.
Under the Act, police do not need a conviction.
They only need to show someone profited from crime under the lower standard of proof used in civil cases - “on the balance of probabilities” - rather than the “beyond reasonable doubt” standard in criminal trials.
Police claim Doyle is the effective president of the Head Hunters, described by the prosecution as one of New Zealand’s largest and most sophisticated criminal groups.
Since he was last released from prison in 2001 he has not been charged or convicted with any offence, nor recalled to prison for breaching the terms of his life parole imposed following a murder conviction in the 1980s.
Prosecutor Conrad Purdon said Doyle’s personal wealth has grown out of all proportion to the benefits which represented his sole source of personal income.
Purdon alleged Doyle oversaw the lucrative criminal offending of various Head Hunters members from which he has personally benefited.
Police called a series of organised crime detectives who said Doyle, nicknamed “chief”, was universally understood to be the boss of the gang and was the sole point of contact for police over many years.
They said the Head Hunters pay a 20 per cent “koha” to the gang out of the earnings of their criminal endeavours, including meth dealing and “taxings”, where gang members demand payment or possessions from members of the criminal underworld in the knowledge they won’t go to police.
The prosecution is also relying on intercepted communications from historic police drug and violence investigations. They allege the communications show Doyle having knowledge of how they were earning their money and in one case purporting to show him demanding a cut from the proceeds.
Doyle denies he is president of the gang and is fighting the case.
Mansfield said Doyle is not the “Teflon Don” police are making him out to be.
“He’s not a president. He’s not the leader. And he’s not the chief, although a nickname for him is chief.”
Instead, he is simply a senior and long-standing member, whose role as police liaison arose because of his mana and level-headed attitude, he said.
Mansfield said Doyle received legitimate income beyond benefits, including rent, loans, ticket sales from Head Hunters fight nights and merchandise sold out of the pad.
Doyle, early in his time in the witness box, described his occupation as a pensioner. He said he resolved to leave crime behind when he was last released from prison in 2001.
“I just needed to stay out of trouble,” he said.
He now lives a simple life focused on his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, he said.
Doyle, who was supported in court by family, spent about three days in the witness box all up.
Much of that time was spent under cross-examination from prosecutor Mark Harborow.
Wearing a white shirt, Icebreaker fleece and glasses, the only hint of Doyle’s decades in prison and the Head Hunters were the tattoos creeping up his neck.
He was composed and articulate, answering in concise sentences that frequently began with “100 per cent not” as he rejected suggestions he was an organised crime boss.
At one point, Harborow was asking questions about a former Head Hunter who had been “exited” from the Head Hunters for what Doyle described as the man’s meth abuse and domestic violence.
Harborow said the man had claimed if he earned $100,000 working as a debt collector, the creditor would receive $60,000, he would get $20,000 and the gang would get the rest.
Doyle said this was wrong and questioned how effective the former member would have been as a debt collector.
“[He’s] about your size,” Doyle told Harborow.
“So I don’t know how much of a bully he could be.”
Harborow laughed off the apparent dig at his size.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked Doyle.
“I just find it hard to believe he’s standing over all these people,” Doyle replied.
On Wednesday, towards the end of his cross-examination, Harborow honed in on an international money transfer of about $72,000 from a Hong Kong account to the trust account of a law firm once used by Doyle.
The name of the Auckland law firm is suppressed and there is no suggestion of wrongdoing on its part.
Doyle agreed the payment was a contribution to his legal expenses.
It was traced to a woman who lives in Auckland and whose partner is a convicted drug dealer, sentenced to prison for importing just shy of 1kg of methamphetamine, Harborow said.
Her partner has a company linked to a Marua Rd property a couple of minutes walk up the road from the Head Hunters East pad of which the prosecution says Doyle is the majority owner via a complex series of trusts.
In 2020, police executed a search warrant at the Stonefields home and found methamphetamine, cash, electronic scales and a ziplock bag.
“So he’s obviously a drug dealer?” Harborow asked.
“I’d have to agree with that,” Doyle said.
“And his partner is transferring money from Hong Kong to [the law firm] for your legal expenses?”
“I’ve never met these people, it’s got nothing to do with me.
“It’s just a bad coincidence that this guy is also in Marua Rd.”
Under further questioning by Mansfield, Doyle provided insights into the workings of the Head Hunters.
He said nationally there are about 160 patched members.
Prospects are nominated for patching at meetings formerly called “church” or “parole board” but now dubbed hui, where other members have the opportunity to object to the nominations, he said.
Doyle claimed members are not required to have convictions or prove themselves by committing crimes.
Members are required to undertake what the Head Hunters call their “tour of duty”, shifts manning the Marua Rd pad they call The Trust.
If they miss their shift they are fined $500, Doyle said.
At the end of his time in the witness box, Doyle was asked a few questions by Justice Andrew.
“What sort of qualities does the hui look for in people who want to get patched?” the judge asked.
“Good people,” Doyle said.
“Someone with a bit of mana. Someone who looks after his family and stands his ground.”
The trial continues on Wednesday with closing arguments from the prosecution.
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