My wasted years of crime

When one of the country's most persistent criminals says he is going straight there is good cause for scepticism, but, as PAUL YANDALL reports, Arthur Taylor
insists he means it this time.

When you go to meet Arthur William Taylor, one of the country's most notorious criminals, the first thing to greet you at his home is a large, padlocked, iron gate.

"You don't know who will come up here, you know, there are some dangerous people out there," he says.

For a man with 118 convictions and an underworld career spanning nearly 30 years, this is a disconcerting remark, but then the convicted fraudster, car thief, burglar, prison escaper and bank robber insists he has never been a violent person.

When you first meet Taylor at his tranquil, tree-shrouded home in Te Atatu South, in West Auckland, the claim seems plausible, although the police take a different view.

For someone who has just spent nearly 10 years in New Zealand's top-security prison at Paremoremo, he is disarmingly pleasant.

Dressed in T-shirt and jeans, the balding 45-year-old with carpenter's hands and a paunch that probably bears watching, appears earnest about finally going straight.

"That's it for me, I've had enough. All the boys know that ... Of course, it's the police I'm having trouble convincing."

The "boys" are a veritable Who's Who of the country's criminal underworld.

Drug dealer and prison escaper Brian Curtis is "a friend and a good man, although you wouldn't want to cross him". Dean Wickliffe, recently released after being New Zealand's longest-serving prisoner, is a "pretty straight guy". Bank robber Leslie Maurice Green "will always deal with you straight".

About others, he is less generous. Jailed Tissot painting thief Anthony Ricardo Sands is "totally delusional".

He points to a nearby sleepout on his property, which Sands used in 1991. "He told me back then he wanted to steal something from the [Auckland] Art Gallery. I told him he was crazy but I guess he didn't listen."

Taylor was released from prison in May this year after serving nine years of a 15-year sentence for aggravated robbery and escaping from custody.

He says he had been determined to lead a very quiet life, but an encounter with police last month has persuaded him to talk publicly of his past.

Born in 1956 in the Hokianga town of Rawene, he is the eldest of five. His criminal career began in Masterton in 1972 .

Bored with school, he says he was often truant and was eventually placed in a borstal.

"You go in innocent and scared and you come out qualified in car conversion, theft, you name it. It's a cliche, I know, but it's true."

By the end of the year, aged only 16, he had been charged with forgery, for withdrawing money against deposit stamps he had faked in his bankbook.

What followed was 25 years of criminal offending, including four armed robberies, eight escapes, eight weapons offences, 22 burglaries, and 27 acts of fraud.

He was eventually sentenced to nine years' jail in 1992 for the armed robbery of a BNZ branch in Te Kauwhata, south of Auckland.

He represented himself during the trial and subsequent appeal after teaching himself law from textbooks in prison.

"I'd just had enough of lawyers. They're so expensive and for what? I thought I could do a better job and decided to do just that."

The failed appeal earned Taylor the reputation of being one of the country's more intelligent criminals.

In 1996, much to the chagrin of the Auckland District Law Society, Court of Appeal judge Justice Thomas said the trial transcript showed Taylor's efforts had been superior to those of some counsel.

The president of the Law Society, Michael Harte, pointedly noted that there was no reason a highly intelligent person who had been in and out of court as often as Taylor could not pick up a good legal education.

In prison, other inmates would seek him out for legal advice and he still runs an informal bush practice today.

He again made the headlines in May 1998 for managing to convince a parole board that previous convictions had been quashed and he should be released by the end of the year.

The mistake was discovered just before he was let out and his release date was pushed back to the end of 1999.

In June 1998, Taylor and three others escaped from the medium-security unit at Paremoremo, sparking a huge hunt.

"I totally lost my head. I had planned to marry and be with my son. It was going to be another year and I couldn't handle it. That's why I escaped."

He spent six days on the run in Muriwai, northwest of Auckland, and the Coromandel, before being captured.

The remaining fugitives were caught four days later, but not before all four had managed to trash the $2.75 million Tairua home of American millionaire Roger Flowers.

"I came into the planning late. The other three had been working on it for months," says Taylor.

"They were even running around the yard getting fit and all, but I don't think they would have gotten out anytime soon."

The escape itself was simple enough. Timing and keeping the plans secret from the numerous prison informants were the main problems.

Taylor had three years added to his sentence. It seems an insignificant term when you consider that he has been sentenced to a cumulative total of 115 years in prison.

"I don't even want to think about the time I've wasted behind bars," he says. "As far as I'm concerned, I've wasted most of my life. All those years are lost to me. They're something I'll never get back."

One of his greatest regrets is not being there for his son, Tyrone, who was born just after Taylor was sent to prison in 1992.

Despite his numerous convictions for violent offences, Taylor is adamant he is not a violent person.

"I stole only from institutions, not from people. I know it's no excuse, but I never hurt anyone. I'm not violent."

It is a claim that police familiar with Taylor's work give short shrift.

Senior Sergeant Peter Devoy, who worked as a detective on the Te Kauwhata robbery, says Taylor's record speaks for itself.

"In that crime you had him handing out the firearms, one of which was discharged into the roof."

The court documents make sober reading, and although Taylor was found not to have actually harmed anyone - he did not even enter the bank - he was the one who masterminded the caper.

Senior Sergeant Devoy also paints a very different picture of Taylor's performance in court.

"Five weeks into his trial [at which he was representing himself] he tried to create a mistrial by posting excerpts of his conviction list to a juror," he says. Taylor was later convicted for perverting the course of justice for the offence.

His last scrape with the law ended last month after he was released from a week in prison for breaching a non-association order by appearing at his girlfriend's trial.

On the subject of his girlfriend, Leighanne Taylor (she changed her name by deed poll), he is most animated.

"We're in love and free and want to stay that way."

Life now consists of computer programming work for a local education software developer and tying up legal loose ends.

"I know it may take a bit of time for police to get used to the idea, but I'm saying that I've had enough. I don't need to commit crime to make a living."

Detective Senior Sergeant Mike Bush, head of the North Shore CIB, says he is happy to hear Taylor say he is giving up his life of crime.

"A person of his obvious industriousness should be able to find work. I hope he's sincere about it.

"But you can't help but be cynical about these sort of things. They all come out saying they're going to be angels."

Taylor ends our interview with a tour of his property.

He recounts a story of police hurling themselves over a fence one night just to throw themselves back over another one when confronted by a frenzied pit bull.

There are no dogs anymore; instead, there is an aviary, which he built after leaving prison, awaiting the arrival of budgies. He fields a call from one of the boys inside prison.

"He wants to know what I want him to do with my cellphone. I told him to do what you want."

"What did he say to that?" I ask.

"Oh, he said he'd save it and that he was keeping my bed free for me too."