S4 Ep8: Anthony Rowlingson - A Brother's Betrayal

By 2004, Melbourne had become a city under siege. On the surface, life continued with the quiet routines of suburbia: parents shuttling children to school, office workers commuting in and out of the city, cafés buzzing with their usual morning trade. But beneath that familiar order was a darker rhythm, one that pulsed through the streets with a steady, violent beat. Carparks became stages for ambushes. Cafés, places once known for coffee and conversation, were transformed into theatres of bloodshed. Even nightclubs, where music drowned out the city’s worries, became hunting grounds where enemies could be cornered and executed. Every public space, no matter how ordinary, carried the weight of possibility—that the next spray of bullets might erupt without warning. The struggle for power played out like a game of chess. Pieces shifted across the board—sometimes with patience, sometimes with violence—each move carrying the weight of risk and reward. The city became an arena where loyalty was fragile, betrayal inevitable, and survival a matter of strategy as much as strength. The story of the gangland war can only be told through the men who moved first—their hungers, their feuds, and the decisions that would stain the city in blood.

On June 21st, 2005, the body of Kristy Scholes was discovered in the bedroom of her grandparents’ home in West Dubbo, New South Wales. She was twenty-four years old, living with her partner and young daughter. Police quickly determined that she had been strangled, and the circumstances of her death were immediately alarming. The home showed no signs of forced entry, and nothing appeared to have been stolen, suggesting that the perpetrator had a familiarity with the house or its occupants. Kristy’s partner had been absent at the time, leaving questions about who could have accessed the property and how the crime had been committed without interruption. The shock of the discovery rippled through the Dubbo community. Neighbours and friends struggled to reconcile the violence of the act with the normalcy of suburban life. For investigators, the case presented immediate challenges. They needed to consider not just potential intruders or opportunistic offenders, but also those who had pre-existing connections to the family. Given the nature of the crime, attention quickly turned to individuals known to the household—family members, close friends, or acquaintances—anyone with the means and opportunity to commit such an act. The investigation required careful examination of relationships, movements, and behavioural patterns. Earlier that year, on January 4th, 2005, another member of the extended family, Lateesha Nolan, had disappeared under circumstances that were, at the time, equally confounding. Lateesha was also twenty-four and a mother of four children. She had been last seen leaving her home in Dubbo to run errands, and when she did not return, immediate concern arose among her family. Within hours, relatives began contacting authorities, describing her sudden absence and the unusual nature of her disappearance. As the investigation unfolded, the community watched closely. Rumours circulated, sightings were reported and discounted, and the tension in Dubbo grew. Two women, both young, both connected to the same family network, were either missing or dead. The reasons for their suffering were unknown, and the question of who could have committed such acts—and why—loomed over every lead, every interview, and every search. It was the beginning of an investigation that would stretch for years, involve multiple law enforcement agencies, and eventually expose the extraordinary lengths one man would go to evade capture.

In the wilderness, there are no rules. No law. No mercy. Only need. Out there, beyond the reach of cities and courts, where the trees crowd thick as secrets and the sky closes in like a lid — survival becomes the only religion. It doesn’t matter what you believe. It doesn’t matter what you were. Soldier or shepherd, priest or prisoner — the wild doesn’t care. It strips you down to something simpler. Hungrier. And in the deepest wilds of 19th-century Tasmania — back when it was still called Van Diemen’s Land — that need could become something far more dangerous than any animal, or any outlaw, or any desperate soul with shackles around his ankles. It could become hunger. But this isn’t the kind of hunger that comes at the end of a long day without lunch. This isn’t the ache of a skipped supper or the pangs of a rationed winter. This is hunger as obsession. As madness. As transformation. This is the kind of hunger that claws through your guts until it speaks for you.  Until it walks in your skin, whispers in your thoughts, and tells you that you don’t need bread… You need flesh.

Melbourne’s underworld had always been a precarious balance—alliances held together by fear, grudges measured in decades, and violence reserved for those who miscalculated their position, who overstepped unspoken boundaries, or who failed to respect the intricate hierarchy of power. It was a delicate ecosystem where one wrong move could trigger a chain reaction, and where loyalty was never guaranteed, only earned and enforced through blood, intimidation, and reputation. But by the early 2000s, that fragile equilibrium began to shift, slowly at first, then with a sudden, irreversible momentum. The spark came in May 2002, on what appeared to be an ordinary sunny Monday in Port Melbourne. The city, as always, went about its routines—the hum of trams, the chatter of pedestrians, shopkeepers arranging their displays. Yet beneath that veneer of normalcy, tension simmered. Violence had been brewing quietly for years, a storm gathering strength in the hidden corners of alleys, warehouses, and suburban streets. Victor Pierce, a man whose name was etched into the darkest chapters of Melbourne’s criminal history, pulled up outside a modest fruit shop on Bay Street. To the casual observer, he was just another man in a car. But anyone who knew the city’s underworld—or its police—understood the weight of his presence. He was a survivor, a man who had defied justice more than once, a figure who carried with him the memory of Walsh Street, the infamous murders that had claimed the lives of two young police officers and left the city and the force reeling. Then came the shots. Five in rapid succession. Four found their mark. Two struck him in the head. The sound echoed through the street, terrifying in its suddenness, brutal in its precision. Pedestrians froze. Shopkeepers ducked behind counters. Children, unaware of the intricacies of the adult world, sensed only the fear, the chaos, the violence erupting in their midst. By the time anyone could react, Victor Peirce was gone. Instantly. A figure once untouchable, a symbol of resilience and fear, reduced in seconds to a lifeless body on the pavement, a stark reminder that in this world, even legends could be brought down. Pierce was more than just a criminal. He was a bridge to the old guard, a link to an era when the rules of the underworld were written in blood, when certain names commanded both respect and terror. He had survived the Walsh Street trial, had walked free while two young police officers lay murdered, and had endured decades of feuds, grudges, and shifting allegiances. His death was not just the loss of a man—it was the removal of a keystone, a shift that left a vacuum in power, a gap that would not go unnoticed, a signal to anyone waiting in the shadows that the old order was vulnerable. And from those shadows, a figure who had been quietly observing, calculating, and biding his time began to move. A man who had spent years navigating the margins, learning the lessons of the streets, studying the mistakes and vulnerabilities of others. His time had come. His patience had been rewarded by the chaos around him. His ambition would not be delayed.  That man was Carl Williams.

The 13th of June 2016, a quiet disappearance would soon ripple into a national tragedy. At first, there was nothing to suggest anything sinister. It was just another ordinary Monday. The sky over Perth’s southern suburbs was its usual soft grey. School children made their way to class. Cars trickled through the streets of suburban Wellard. And a young man named Aaron Pajich-Sweetman went about his day. But Aaron would not return home. What followed would pull back the curtain on something deeply disturbing. A world hidden just beneath the surface—lurking behind suburban fences and ordinary smiles. A fantasy brought to life with chilling precision. A betrayal by those meant to be friends. And a house hiding secrets no one could have imagined.

Arcana Australis. From the Creator of Felon True Crime. Find Arcana Australis wherever you get your podcasts.

In the cold October night of 1988, Melbourne’s streets bore witness to one of its darkest and most haunting chapters — the brutal execution of two young police officers on Walsh Street. The city didn’t just hear the gunshots; it felt the shock ripple through its very core. The event shattered a fragile sense of safety, stirring fear in the hearts of citizens and officers alike. What followed was more than just an investigation. It was a trial that gripped the entire nation — watched closely by millions — where justice and fear collided in the courtroom and beyond. The verdict that followed didn’t simply conclude a case; it reverberated far beyond the marble pillars of the court, echoing through the corridors of political power and slipping like poison through the shadowed alleyways where crime festered. This is Episode Two: The Echoes of Walsh Street. The fallout from that terrible night tore through the foundations of the justice system — leaving cracks both deep and jagged, fractures that would take years to mend, if they ever could. A creeping fear slithered through Melbourne, a city already worn thin by violence and corruption, now burdened with the knowledge that even the law’s protectors were not safe. At the heart of this turmoil stood a single family — a dark dynasty with roots dug deep into the city’s underworld. The Pettingills. A matriarch who ruled with ruthless iron and chilling ice, commanding loyalty through fear and silence. A son who met his end in cold daylight, a casualty of the violent world they had helped forge. And all the while, blood continued to spill — not just in the streets, but within the very soul of Melbourne’s criminal empire as it devoured itself from within. This is a story of power, betrayal, and a legacy written in red.

Thank you for being part of the journey and for listening to the stories shared so far. There’s exciting news about how the podcasts are evolving to bring even more engaging content your way.  To keep everything clear and easy to follow, here’s an important update regarding The Underland, Felon, and Arcana Australis — all designed to enhance your listening experience. The Underland was initially announced as a standalone podcast, separate from Felon True Crime. After careful consideration of how the episodes are developing, the decision has been made to release The Underland within the Felon channel while still maintaining it as a distinct, standalone presentation.  This series will continue to focus exclusively on Australian gangland stories. Episodes of The Underland will alternate fortnightly with Felon episodes, providing a seamless listening experience that delivers both true crime and gangland content in one place. Meanwhile, Arcana Australis—which has already appeared in the Felon feed—will launch on its own dedicated channel.  Due to its different focus on Australian folklore, legends, and mysterious stories, it will have its own space to explore these unique narratives apart from true crime. These updates aim to create a more focused and enjoyable experience for listeners. Stay tuned for upcoming episodes. Thanks again for listening and being part of this community. If you enjoy the shows, please consider liking, sharing, reviewing, and subscribing to stay updated with all new episodes.  For bonus content and behind-the-scenes insights, check out the Felon True Crime, The Underland, and Arcana Australis pages on Facebook and Instagram. And be sure to join the Friends of Felon Facebook group to connect with fellow listeners and discuss cases. Case requests are always welcome—feel free to send them through anytime. Your support helps keep these stories alive and thriving.

A crime so brutal, so deeply out of place with the town’s quiet character, would unfold—forever altering the way locals looked at their community, and how outsiders viewed the Darling Downs. The town that had once prided itself on its safety and simplicity found itself at the centre of one of Queensland’s most chilling and confounding murder investigations. In the space of a few days, Pittsworth would go from pastoral calm to the front page of newspapers across the state.

Season 1 - Debut Episode. Australia. The land down under.  The Great Southern Land. World renowned for its pristine beaches. Red sands of the outback. Rolling mountain ranges. Tropical rainforests. Sun and surf.  But if you dig below this shiny surface.  Below its sunny, smiling exterior. You'll expose a murky history of violence, murder, and organized crime. This is the Underland. The underbelly of the land down under.  Wherever you get your podcasts.