An Inside Look Into the Capture of the 1993 Frankston Serial Killer

Over a six week period in 1993, Melbourne's South East suburb of Frankston was haunted by an unknown and unrepentant predator. In the depths of the night, when the rain would fall and the screams couldn’t be heard, he’d sneak into its depths, plotting to kill.

He became known as the Frankston Serial Killer. His real name: Paul Denyer. He was a quiet nobody but an ultimate psychopath. 

Denyer, who at one point transitioned as a woman to Paula but has since transitioned back to Paul, is the subject of the new Australian documentary “Revealed: No Mercy, No Remorse.” But he is also just one of many players in a film that aims to highlight the actions of multiple detectives and police officers as they tirelessly try to track him down.

Serial killers have been documentary fodder for years. Deep dives into the minds of murderers has become a shortcut to virality on television, in news articles, and podcasts. Even fictitious work can’t help but depict them.

It’s an element of culture that both fascinates and disgusts us, but for seasoned crime reporter at The Age, John Silvester - who reports and hosts - Denyer’s story was one that needed revisiting.

“We have an awful fascination with the dark twins: evil and tragedy,” his voice booms across the introduction. “It is what makes us slow and scared.”

“What is a serial killer? That rare body that walks among us, hiding in plain sight.”

Alongside director and producer Terry Carlyon, Silvester pursues a forensic investigation into the Denyer murders with full access to confession tapes and evidentiary exhibits, as well as the detectives involved in his apprehension.

The story starts at the scene of the body of 17-year-old Natalie Russell. It’s July 30th, 1993. Russell’s body has been found strangled and slashed. There’s a criss-cross pattern etched into her chest.

“I couldn’t sleep…it was gut wrenching,” Former Detective Rod Wilson tells Silvester. Though it’s been 30 years since, Wilson’s eyes are hollow. He stares off-camera with a tired desperation. 

It’s the strongest theme of Silvester's documentary. While overdramatised retellings of serial killers are often found on Netflix depicting the specific events, behaviours and personality psychology of serial killers like Ted Bundy with clarity, Silvester’s documentary inspects the emotions of the various people affected. Denyer merely stands as a figure of their pain, rather than a focus of the story. 

The weariness in the dozen detectives and police officers' eyes, as 30 years later they retell the gore and horror of uncovering the bodies of the young women, provides a genuine glance into the lasting effects that an event like that may have. It’s gripping, unorthodox and purposeful.

“I wanted to go back and talk to the investigators. We see on television news, police with stern faces – emotionless people – who give robotic press conferences,” Silvester told VICE.

“Behind the scenes there's enormous emotional commitment. I was surprised to see just how emotional they were 30 years on, because they didn’t show their emotion at the time.”

“But it shows you that they have this sort of invisible contract with the victims. Basically nobody who does that sort of work for long comes out unaffected.”

Charlie Bezzine, a former Detective Senior Sergeant, describes in the documentary the “satanic” killing of 18-year-old Elizabeth Stevens as at “the stage of overkill.” And when Behavioural Psychologist Peter Halloran appears on screen, though only one body has been found, he describes the unusual killing as a premonition.

“There’s a history of that type of behaviour with serial killers so I was immediately alert to the potential of what was to come,” he says through gaunt eyes. 

Alongside the talking heads of interviewees are the confession tapes of Denyer. We see his interactions with police and their reactions to him. The juxtaposition of a remorseless serial killer to officers overcome with emotion depict psychopathy at a dizzying height. And while the show only brushes briefly over Denyer’s past history of violent behaviour growing up, never really giving reason for his metamorphosis into serial killer, it does well to depict the psychology of one against the “normal” person.

“He was harmless looking,” Silvester tells VICE.

“And that is what makes it all the more sinister. He said that he'd been harbouring those feelings since he was 14 years-old, and had then been stalking women since he was 17-years-old.”

The documentary comes to a swelling crescendo when the detectives finally meet Denyer upon interrogation.

“He was so enthusiastic about the opportunity to play the game, to be important again, to be the centre of me asking him questions of his movements over the last five or six weeks,” says Former detective Rod Wilson. 

“He was ready, he knew we were coming… He was able to recount his movements down to the nth degree about where he was on a particular night.”

Silvester’s documentary is a gripping dive into the lasting effects of a traumatic event on his interviewees and the Frankston community. And though it leaves you feeling that Denyer is but a secondary character, the purposeful decision surfaces an anthropological study into a devastating era on the human condition. The faces of the officers say it all as they retell the events with watering and haunted eyes, stone-cold demeanours, and pained slouches. It’s an event that will stick with them for life.

The last scene sees Silvester looking to camera, speaking.

“The conclusion is inevitable. Denyer must remain in prison until he is so infirmed he can’t be a risk, or he’s dead.”

Stan Original Documentary Revealed: No Mercy, No Remorse is available to stream on Stan

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