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Web of lies

A killer was closing the net on my girl


Published by: Jai Breitnaur & Sharon Ward
Published on: 7th April 2011

As I washed up after dinner, I strained to see what my daughter Carly, 14, was doing on the computer. She was forever on MySpace, but over the last few days she’d been even keener.
‘Any chance I could get on there tonight?’ I grinned.
‘I doubt it,’ tutted Carly’s
brother Baylie, nine. ‘She’s talking to her boyfriend!’
‘Shut up!’ Carly huffed, launching herself at him.
‘Boyfriend?’ I asked, checking the computer screen. At the top of the page was a picture of a teenage boy in a leather jacket.
Underneath was a conversation between him and Carly. I managed to see he’d written I think you’re cute before she pushed past me and closed the page.
‘He’s a friend,’ she shrugged.
‘We’re just teasing,’ I smiled. ‘And I don’t mind. But I’d like to know more.’
As a single mum, I knew how easily a girl’s heart could be broken.
When Baylie was in bed, we sat down for a chat.
‘His name’s Brandon Kane, he’s 19 and in a band,’ Carly explained.
‘Isn’t he a bit… old?’ I frowned.
‘We’re only mates,’ she rolled her eyes. ‘We just talk about music and school.’
To be honest, he was probably just a kid who played Guitar Hero in his room. What was the harm in her talking to him on the internet? ‘Just keep me in the loop,’ I warned.
Over the next few months, Carly spent more time on the internet. She and Brandon even swapped phone numbers.
He’d call a couple of times a week, but I always made sure that she left her bedroom door open while they chatted.
Over the next year, their relationship grew.
‘He said I’m gorgeous,’ she confided in me one day. ‘We’ve got heaps in common, and he’s so mature. Not like the boys at school.’
I couldn’t stop her having a boyfriend and I was sure it was harmless, teenage fun. Brandon had certainly been a good friend to her all these months, but she was still 14.
Then, as Carly’s birthday approached, she had an idea.
‘Can Brandon come to my party?’ she asked.
Well, it was a chance for me to meet him. ‘Okay,’ I said.
But later, after their usual phone chat, she came into the kitchen sulking. ‘He can’t come,’ she sighed. ‘He’s got a gig.’
‘Sorry hun,’ I said sadly. ‘There’ll be other times.’
It didn’t seem to put a dampener on their relationship, though. A few days before her party Carly logged off the computer, excited.
‘Brandon said his dad Shane is heading this way on business,’ she grinned. ‘He’s going to deliver some prezzies for me.’
‘That’s sweet’ I said.
‘Oh, and he’s calling to make sure it’s okay,’ she added.
The next day, Shane Kane phoned. ‘Kids, hey?’ he chuckled. ‘Brandon’s devastated he can’t come.’
‘So is Carly,’ I said.
Talking to Brandon’s dad eased any fears I’d had about his relationship with my daughter. He seemed such a nice bloke, his son was bound to be too.
‘I’ll come over with the gifts the day of Carly’s fancy dress party,’ he confirmed. ‘Do you know of a good hotel? I’ll be staying the night before my meeting.’
‘Stay here!’ I said, before I could stop myself.
‘Don’t trouble yourself…’ Shane started, but I dismissed the idea.
Well, he was going to such an effort for Carly, I wanted to show him some hospitality – especially if we’d be getting to know each other better as Carly and Brandon’s relationship grew.
When Shane turned up the next day, he was a slightly podgy, balding guy, loaded down with gifts. ‘Brandon says happy birthday,’ he smiled nervously.
‘Wow,’ Carly beamed, tugging at bows and wrapping paper.
‘Sometimes I forget she’s still a kid,’ I smiled to Shane.
We chatted all afternoon, while the children played in the garden.
Later, when most of them had gone home, Carly and three mates decided to watch a film in Carly’s room. I showed Shane to his room.
‘Thanks Sonya,’ he smiled. ‘I appreciate you letting me stay, and Brandon will love hearing about the party.’
‘No worries,’ I smiled. So polite! If Brandon was like his dad, he’d be good news for Carly.
Next morning, I flicked the kettle on. Gentle snores came from Carly’s room, so I made some mugs of tea and went to wake her and her friends.
‘Knock knock!’ I whispered, poking my head round the door. ‘Rise and shi… What the?!’
Carly’s three friends lay sprawled in their sleeping bags on the floor, and Carly was face down, fully clothed in bed, TV still flickering.
They’d obviously fallen asleep halfway through the film – but that wasn’t what had shocked me.
On top of the duvet next to Carly was Shane.
I froze for a moment, speechless.
Backing out of her room I had no idea what to do, couldn’t think straight. Dressing quickly in my room, a million things raced through my mind.
What the hell was going on? Had I misunderstood? Had Shane innocently fallen asleep while watching a movie with the kids?
The more I tried to make sense of it, the angrier I got.
Walking into the kitchen two minutes later, Shane was up washing dishes.
‘I want you out of my house,’ I told him, angrily. ‘I don’t know what you were doing on my daughter’s bed, but I want you out or I’m calling the police.’
He glared back at me before storming off to get his stuff without a word.
Carly was awake now. ‘Mum, he was watching telly with us, don’t make a scene,’ she begged. ‘I don’t care about Shane, but Brandon might not speak to me again!’
Maybe he had been watching telly, but there was no way he should have been snuggled up next to my 14-year-old. It was inexcusable.
Shaking, I put an arm round Carly as Shane left. She started to cry.
‘He tried to kiss me,’ she wept. ‘He
said Brandon said it was okay.’
Oh God… I’d let a paedophile into my home. ‘I’m calling the police,’ I said, grabbing the phone. Carly snatched it off me.
‘No! I don’t want anyone to know,’ she cried.
Seeing my daughter, last night’s make-up smeared across her face and fancy dress outfit crumpled, I knew I couldn’t do it – I couldn’t put her through that.
‘Okay, but no more contact with Shane,’ I told her.
Carly’s face dropped.
‘What about Brandon?’ she gasped.
I didn’t want her speaking to him either, but if I told her that she’d go behind my back. ‘You can speak to Brandon,’ I soothed. ‘But I’m cutting off the internet.’
I’d never been this heavy-handed before. Me and Carly had always been more friends than mother and daughter. But now I was taking control.
Later, while she was in the shower, I took her mobile too. She’d never give it up voluntarily.
The weeks dragged on, and Carly grew distant. Locked herself away, crying and refusing to eat.
‘I know what it’s like being a teenager in love,’ I sighed to my sister Alison one night when she was over. ‘But I can’t risk allowing this Shane back into our lives.’
‘Let me talk to her,’ Alison said.
Half an hour later, Carly came out of her room. ‘Sorry Mum, I’ve been silly,’ she smiled. ‘Brandon was getting a bit intense anyway. I’m too young for that.’
I was so proud of her. ‘I’m glad you’ve seen sense,’ I soothed.
A few days later, and she was back to her normal self. Bounding into the kitchen, she grabbed me by the arms and started dancing to the radio.
‘My mates are meeting in town, then we’re staying at Cain’s, do you mind?’ she asked.
‘Of course not,’ I smiled. Pulling out her mobile, I handed it to her. ‘You’ll need this, so you can text and let me know you’re okay.’
Her face lit up. Grabbing her overnight bag, she hugged me.
‘Love you,’ she called, dancing out the door.
Next morning, I had the house to myself, Baylie was at his dad’s. I decided to give Carly a ring.
‘She’ll probably want a lift home,’ I smiled. But when I dialled her number, the line was dead.
‘Odd,’ I frowned. ‘I’ll try Cain’s number.’
His mum answered… and told me there’d never been a sleep over. My blood ran cold.
I drove to the park, the shopping mall, the cinema… anywhere Carly might be, but there was no sign of her.
By lunchtime I was frantic, so called the police, hoping I was overreacting. Any minute now she’ll wander through the door, I told myself. She’ll tell me her battery was flat.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. ‘Carly?’ I cried, answering it. ‘Thank God, I’ve been so…’
It was a police officer.
‘Mrs Ryan, can I come in please?’ he asked.
I nodded, speechless.
Sat on the sofa, the officer took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, but this morning we found a body matching Carly’s description on the beach at Port Elliot,’ he explained. ‘We need you to identify it.’
‘A body?’ I said, confused. ‘What do you mean a body? Port Elliot is over an hour’s drive away. She wouldn’t have gone there. You’ve made a mistake.’
‘We need you to come with us,’ the officer said slowly.
‘I… but… my baby…’ I croaked. I felt numb. The beach at Port Elliot had always held happy memories for me, it’s where I’d taken the kids when they were younger. I remembered Carly, in her bright blue bikini, chasing Baylie across the sand.
Her tinkling laughter filled my head now, reminding me of the last time I’d seen her, looking happy and carefree…
‘Please God, this can’t be true,’ I prayed.
At the mortuary, I was stood in front of a glass window with a curtain pulled across.
The officer touched my shoulder. ‘Ready?’ he asked. They peeled back the curtain…
‘No!’ I gasped.
Carly, my beautiful girl, was battered, bruised and lifeless. She’d been beaten then suffocated as her pretty face was forced into the sand.
I could barely breathe, collapsed to the floor. ‘Wh… who…?’ was all I could get out.
Then it hit me. ‘Shane or Brandon Kane,’ I screamed. ‘They did this.’
I told the police everything and, 11 days later, they made an arrest.
But it was neither Brandon nor Shane.
‘His name is Gary Newman,’ an officer explained. ‘And he is Brandon and Shane.’
What?! I just didn’t understand.
‘Newman created Brandon’s profile to pose as a young lad – so he could contact girls,’ he continued. My head swam as he went on. ‘Then he pretended to be Brandon’s father to try and gain your trust.’
This sick pervert controlled more than 200 fake profiles. He’d made up not just Brandon, but his band mates, friends and family too. They were all fake – made to look like he was just any other teenager.
Me and my innocent daughter hadn’t stood a chance against such cunning evil.
I’d only wanted her to be happy. Instead, I’d let this perv into my house, and she was dead.
‘But how did he find Carly again?’ I asked. ‘She couldn’t access the internet or her mobile.’
‘We traced a call to your home, a few days before she went missing,’ he explained.
Of course, he’d called me on the landline to arrange bringing Carly’s presents round. Then he’d called again, either as Shane or Brandon, to lure her to her death.
Gary Newman, 51, was found guilty of murder, and in April last year was sentenced to a minimum of 29 years at the South Australian Supreme Court.
The only thing that keeps me going now is the hope Carly’s story saves others. I’ve created a foundation in her honour to promote online safety too.
Chatting online seems harmless enough, but please keep an eye on your children – just in case.
They may look like they’re safe at home, but while they’re at a computer they’ve got a very dangerous world at their fingertips.
• www.carlyryanfoundation.com
Sonya Ryan, 38, Stirling, South Australia