Confessions of a Serial Killer comes to Brisbane at long last. A dark, immersive theatre event set in the outdoors at Minnippi Parklands – what could go wrong!?
Police have their man…or do they?
Here is the synopsis of this dark mystery show:-
Ivan the seductively charming yet extremely dangerous serial killer is going to give you that chance. Ivan is turning himself in and is going to confess all – but only in front of witnesses.
Take a journey deep into the night, and prepare yourself to lock wits with the city’s most wanted man.
Will Ivan lead you to where all the bodies are buried? Or is this just a dark and twisted game of cat and mouse?
Can you solve the mystery…or will you just be another one of Ivan’s victims? Choose wisely…and maybe…just maybe…you might survive…
Tickets are available for limited sessions for this show run which lasts three nights only on the 6th-8th October, so best channel your inner detective and book in for the show as soon as possible.
Confessions of a Serial Killer is only running for three nights, meaning limited tickets will be on sale for the sessions from the 6th to the 8th of October. So get in quickly and book now, as the tickets for this dark mystery show are selling out fast!
Just because you’re in the audience doesn’t mean you’re safe…
With a top 5 reasons to visit Brisbane, a what to do guide, along with a wide range of activities and attractions on display, you’ll be able get more ideas on what to do by reviewing the Brisbane Travel Guide – check it out for yourself.
The city oozes confidence and a positive, can-do attitude, fueled by youthful enthusiasm. It’s said to be the friendliest big city on Australia’s east coast, and strong migration from Southeast Asia and elsewhere has created a diverse cultural mix.
The spectacular scenery in the surrounding area, along with a comfortably warm year-round climate, friendly locals, and laid-back atmosphere make Brisbane an engaging and welcoming location.
In the days before electrical lighting, much could go on under cover of darkness. Australia’s most famous iconic waterfronts, such as the Hunter River, Sydney Harbour or the Brisbane River, under darkened nighttime skies, were dangerous places to be. Without starlight nor moonlight, the good folk of the city were at the mercy of dark creatures of the night.
In the past, rivers such as London’s Thames became somewhat infamous for the not-unusual sight of dead bodies to be found floating on the water from time to time. But these occasions were not just an issue limited to the Mother Country alone; in the days before the Federation of Australia, the coroner’s courts often had to deal with Jane and John Doe’s floating around their respective state watering holes.
But this was the least of the concerns on Mrs. Lee’s mind on one bright sunny afternoon in 1873. Mrs. Lee was doing what any ordinary person might do on a Saturday. She was coming into the Sydney Habour to spend some with the family, partake of some food and drink and return home by ferry to her Milson’s Point home on the North Shore of Sydney.
Her son-in-law ran a bar in Circular Quay, right on the edge of the Sydney Harbour shoreline. After a few hours of drinking and reminiscing, she decided to leave at 7 pm, perhaps noticing that her silver coins were beginning to run low. She had just enough left to pay the ferryman to take her to the other side of the harbour – her home.
It would be a strange time on the Sydney Harbour as bright daylight turned to a darkened cloud-filled night. The visibility was low. The watches on the various vessels mostly had to listen out for danger.
An apprentice, going about his work at around 9 pm on a vessel in the harbour, reported hearing a woman’s voice ring out across the water. She was shouting, “Police, police! Murder, murder!”. The young boy could very faintly observe a boat in the distance with two figures in it. The woman continued yelling, “You wretch! You will murder me!”. Having no means of leaving his boat and with a degree of helplessness, he yelled out to the pair, “Let the woman alone,” but there was no response, and the couple faded from sight.
Another boy on watch duty on a different vessel also heard screams and, in the dim light, shouted out, hoping to scare the attacker, “What are you doing to the woman?”. Surprisingly, a voice from the darkness hissed back at him, “Never you mind – you have got some colonial in you! An olden time for Australian insults.
Even across the other side of the water, screams for help had been so loud that the domestic servants of a notable residence at Kirribilli Point reported having heard similar cries.
On alert that some dark crime was taking place on the harbour underneath the pitch black of night, there was little anyone could do. The owner of a water taxi on the Circular Quay also noticed that his boat had vanished. Even more mysteriously, it had reappeared in its usual moorings when he returned about 2 hours later at 11 pm that same night.
The owner was furious as he noticed that the sail had gone missing. On closer inspection, however, indications of foul play became apparent. Despite evidence that someone had made some attempt to clean the boat up, the timbers of the boat were quite saturated in blood, with red splash marks located on the mast. There was little to do except report the news of his bloodied boat to the water police.
At 7 am early the next morning, a group of boys arrived by boat at Circular Quay and reported that they had seen the body of a woman floating amongst the rocks. The body was duly recovered and conveyed to the morgue at Circular Quay.
A post-mortem examination began, and the body, despite presenting a sickening spectacle, was identified as Mrs Lee’s. There was a very long list of wounds all over the body and limbs, and in the opinion of the medical gentlemen, these were inflicted during the final moments of the poor woman’s life.
The police began to trace her movements the night previous. When she left her son-in-law’s company, instead of going home, it seems she was seen in company with a waterman named Thomas in the Orient Hotel enjoying brandy and beer before the two left together.
The prospect of saving some coin may have prompted her to accept an offer of passage from Thomas. The savings would allow her to enjoy another round or two of drinks before retiring for the evening. For the waterman, it was a rare chance for some paid work after experiencing some lean times.
Thomas was about 45 years of age, a seller of fruits, and a licensed waterman. He was described as a miserable and sickly-looking man, with matted hair and beard and of mean stature and appearance. He was addicted to drink and, when in that condition, was said to become quarrelsome and given to fighting. Thomas was a Rocks resident, had a wife and six children, but had mostly been living on the kindness of others of late.
Still, on the same morning when the body was found, the water police knocked on his front door and asked him to account for his whereabouts the previous evening.
He admitted to taking the boat without permission, but he had returned it to its rightful place, although no one was about on his return.
He had taken a woman, Mrs Lee, across the harbour the previous evening but had landed her at Milson’s Point. No one else but himself had seen her land and he knew nothing about the blood in the boat. After dropping her home, he came straight back to Circular Quay.
He admitted he had shared a drink with the deceased the previous evening and had even been seen to shout her drinks at the Orient Hotel.
As the police were questioning Thomas, they were interested in the state of his white handkerchief that was wrapped around his neck, as it was spotted with blood. Furthermore, Thomas showed no apprehension concerning the clothes he was wearing. He had not changed during the night, and his vest and shirt contained blood spots. Police did not believe his claim about having a nosebleed resulting from a fistfight the preceding afternoon and duly arrested him for the murder.
Despite proclaiming his innocence during the trial, Thomas was found guilty. There appears to be no premeditation of intent to murder, and on his execution day, he seems to accept his fate, having a sound night’s sleep the previous night.
Thomas addressed the spectators, acknowledging the justice of his sentence and punishment and thanked the gaol authorities for their kindness to him. He expressed a hope that no one would throw any aspersion upon his wife and children, which affected him so much that he burst into tears. He then stated that the drink had brought him to the scaffold and bid those present goodbye.
The bolt was drawn on the gallows – and somewhat rare for an execution performed in the 1800s, he died instantly.
Mrs. Lee’s night out shows that not much separates the present day from the past. One often goes to the city to enjoy the company of friends and family over a glass of one’s favourite beverage before attempting to get home on unreliable public transport. Imagine for a moment doing so without the aid of electrical lighting to light your path, and it becomes apparent how much more dangerous the world was without electricity.
Mrs. Lee’s history, though, is just one of many personal crime stories that have played out in the iconic places we know so well. We walk about the streets of our city, completely unaware of the dark stories that have taken place.
We go into a bar or a fine restaurant, utterly unaware of the site’s bloody past. And really, this is all our Dark Stories Crime Tours are all about. Returning you to the scenes of iconic places where the lives and deaths of ordinary everyday citizens played out.
For a brief window of time, past lives and tragic tales are brought back to life in the very place where these events took place. But at least for a moment, the lives of those gone before us get to live again. Mrs Lee wanted to have a night out with friends and family, but fate intervened with other plans. But perhaps in some small way, by retelling her story today, she has achieved a kind of immortality in the process.
And as it is Australia Day Weekend coming up, our cities will again be filled with the sights and sounds of people enjoying food and drink in much the same light as Mrs. Lee. It’s interesting to wonder what a Dark Stories True Crime Tour would have been like in 1873; however, at least you can enjoy the 2020 vintage and rediscover the events of the streets around you.
Crime history in Australia has a tradition of strong, dominating women ruling over small enclaves of inner-city a brothel and other vice-related activities.
Characters ranging from the famous Molly Morgan of Maitland to Sydneys Razor Gangs War with the infamous arch-rivals Kate Leigh and Tilly Devine, yet Brisbane also had its own high priestess of the night. She plied her trade in the heart of old Brisbane town from the 1870s up until her passing in what was colloquially known as Mother Hogan’s Brothel.
Throughout the 1800s, an area of the Brisbane CBD named Frog Hollow – an apt name as the swampland played host to a large population of frogs – quickly gained a reputation as the seediest part of town. Because the district swiftly flooded during storms, subsequent rents were the cheapest available in the city, leading to it becoming the first red-light district in Brisbane.
Numerous brothels sprung up in this part of town, and by far, the most ill-famed of them all was Mother Hogan’s brothel – an unofficial name that you wouldn’t find in any directory listing. It opened in the 1870s and was around for at least 50-60 years, even surviving the eventual passing of Mother Hogan herself. So, who was Mother Hogan?
As far back as the 1860s, she was a bright young thing going by the name of Mary and living in the town of Wagga. She was once pure and innocent; she once had a fond mother who watched over her and protected her from harm. Yet for 30 years of her life, she conducted one of the most immoral houses to be found on the face of the Australian Continent. Her house was almost as well known as the House of Parliament and had higher attendance than local churches and cathedrals.
Originally in her hometown of Wagga, she completed the pact of marriage, and for a time, her virtuous star shone in a pure blue sky. Then along came Mr. John Hogan – and introduced her to the world of infamy and vice of the most disgraceful kind, and she liked it.
The couple soon became inseparable, arrived in Brisbane together, and they went into business in the Frog Hollow district of the Brisbane CBD. John used to bring along the young lads of the upper-class villas, and Mary’s job was to trot out the wine, woman, and song.
In the year 1889, she became enamoured with an actor from the theatre, and she escaped her seemingly happy life and bolted with him to London, taking with her about £3000. As long as the cash lasted, she revelled in sin and luxury, but as soon as the money ran out, the actor departed and abandoned Mary to her own devices in the grimy streets of London. She was forced to return to her profession in Petticoat Lane to earn some good old-fashioned English coin.
For some inexplicable reasons, John Hogan felt lonely without his Mary and sent her the money that brought her back to Brisbane and once more set her up as the Queen of Mother Hogan’s Brothel.
It was rumoured to be an evil place where one would blush to tell about the things that happened there. Only a few men could describe the racy incidents that occurred from time to time. During its existence, some thousands of girls careered to ruin within its portals, and a number of men were said to become physical and moral wrecks through its agency.
For all her seeming faults, Mother Hogan was considered an honest woman, and no man was ever robbed of a penny when staying in the Hogan Household. Men were beaten and plundered in the Frog Hollow district, but dignity and honour made it difficult for these men to report these crimes lest their reputations suffer.
Mother Hogan’s end came in March 1904 when, at last, she went to meet her God, and as one person put it at the time – hers was a life wasted, having chosen the oldest profession in the world and lived a life of sin and shame.
The funeral itself was a gorgeous affair, with the hearse, the coffin, and the mourning coaches being up to the mark required for a Governor-General.
No local priest would attend the burial, so the services of a missionary man had to be recruited. There were girls in the cortege shedding tears, and a stranger would have thought the body of some pure, virtuous woman was undergoing sanctification rituals on her deposit into the earth. Many pundits thought only that here was a woman who fled with another man from her husband, then started a brothel and lived on its proceeds to the end.
Mother Hogan’s brothel survived her passing and continued to remain in business and, according to locals, remained one of the worst examples of immorality to be found on the face of God’s earth – and was still in vigorous operation through to the 1920s and beyond.
A more in-depth look into Australia’s true criminal history reveals numerous examples to prove that the lucky country has more than had its fair share of tough female crime bosses in the days when it was thought to be impossible.
