Such was the value of the stolen oysters that spending thousands to contract Sabin’s Private Investigations Northland was worth it.
Sabin – formerly known as the meth lab-busting detective who served as MP for Northland 2011 to 2015 – has spent most of the past 10 years as Northland/Tai Tokerau’s busiest private investigator.
He’s been successful enough to build a team of six ex-detectives with a combined 120 years’ experience in a region where employment is low but with plenty of work for PIs.
Sabin blends in as a Northlander, a bloke with a farming and rugby background, which included games for the New Zealand Navy during his days as a seaman, and Northland Māori.
“I spent more time in hospital and recovery than I did on the field,” he says.
He’s skilled at having off-the-record talks with reluctant sources down rural roads to track stolen horses, oysters, farm implements, and vehicles.
He joined the police in the mid-90s and left in 2006 to set up anti-methamphetamine consultancy business Methcon, later serving as MP for Northland from 2011 to 2015.
When he’s not “in the weeds” doing surveillance, Sabin keeps abreast of up to 60 cases at a time, and is often either in courtrooms working with defence counsel, or talking to prisoners at Mt Eden Prison or Northland Region Corrections facility near Ngawha.
His workload and reputation as a PI has gone up since Sabin began assisting on a case in 2018 that had destroyed two lives and threatened to ruin another. In April that year, a campervan driven by US tourist Reiss Berger collided with a station wagon near Kerikeri.
Two people in the station wagon died, and police swiftly laid five charges against Berger.
Survivors from the station wagon initially told police Berger’s van was on the wrong side of the road and that the tourist was fully responsible.
However, it later emerged the station wagon’s driver had been drinking, was high on meth and had swerved into the path of the campervan.
The truth only emerged thanks to Sabin and his team talking to the crash site tow truck driver, who had witnessed police mishandling the scene examination.
The towie had also been told by a survivor that it was the now-deceased station-wagon driver who caused the crash.
“Two weeks of investigating helped turn that one on its head,” Sabin says.
“That piqued my interest and away I went. Finding PI work since has just been word of mouth.”
Taking a second look at evidence – including going to the homes of troubled witnesses to revisit their statements – has resulted in a fairer defence for dozens of defendants Sabin’s team has helped over the past seven years.
“Accused people are often at a disadvantage,” Sabin says.
“What we do helps ensure it’s not a lottery, it’s not guesswork. It’s important juries have all the available, relevant information to inform their deliberations.”
In one case, a caregiver was accused of abuse by a complainant, until Sabin found a children’s book in which a character wore clothing that bore a striking resemblance to the description of the supposed offender – indicating the complaint was a confused fabrication.
A swift acquittal followed at the defendant’s second trial.
“It was the shortest deliberation I’ve ever seen,” Sabin says.
He has a mind for crucial details, such as remembering what was in a scene guard’s notebook at an alleged murder-suicide poisoning in the Far North, or recalling the mishandled metadata on the prosecution’s photos of a frying pan in an alleged Kaimai Ranges meth lab.
“I’m a little bit OCD when it comes to these things,” Sabin laughs.
“So much hinges on these factoids. From inquiry to trial might be two and half years so that information gets locked into my brain because I know how important it can be at trial.”
The demand for PIs in Northland, Auckland and other parts of New Zealand comes amid a perfect storm over the past 10 years: a surge in serious crime, fewer resources for police to investigate each complaint plus time and resource pressures for the diminishing number of lawyers doing Legal Aid defence work.
“Less investigation plus higher offending is why we exist. We fill that gap,” Sabin says.
An ideal place to be a PI
Former police officers like Sabin make up most of the 200-odd private investigators operating in New Zealand (the other 1000 licensed PIs are largely security workers or HR and insurance investigators.)
Talkative Scotsman Ron McQuilter, 69, says New Zealand is the ideal place for a career as a private investigator. He’s the main voice of PIs in New Zealand and chairs the NZ Institute of Private Investigators (NZIPI).
McQuilter, founder of private investigation agency Paragon NZ, has not long returned from two months in Britain where there is no licensing system for PIs.
“What’s different about New Zealand is if we go into court, the jury, defence and judge will regard me as a person of integrity. In Britain, every person will think you’re dodgy.
“So the reputation is such that PIs here are held with a respect I don’t believe anywhere in the world has, because we’re small, it’s a village and we’re not corrupt.
“Here you can walk up to somebody and ask them a question and you’re likely to get the answer. In the United States or Britain, they’ll tell you to piss off.”
Unlike many of the PIs interviewed for this story, McQuilter, who is based in Mount Maunganui after arriving in New Zealand 42 years ago, loves chatting about cases.
In fact he has so much to say that he’s written two books about his secretive business.
“Not many people can say that their working day entailed a prominent barrister […] handing you a container with a pubic hair inside that had been found in their bed and asking you to find the owner,” McQuilter writes in Busted! Stories from NZ’s leading private investigator.
He estimates 97% of PIs in this country are contractors for small businesses who get paid from legal aid work, corporate investigations, relationship, custody and family cases, or serving legal proceedings around the world.
Trying to hunt people down is a service almost all PIs offer.
North Shore PI Rod Moratti, 55, says given an unlimited budget he can “pretty much guarantee to locate anyone on the planet”, whether it’s lost heirs, debtors, relations or exotic lovers who turn out to be scam artists.
Using door-knocking, social media plus what Moratti describes as “some completely legal channels which people might not know,” he gives the customer a report within 24 hours of being commissioned.
He’s often asked to help adoptees find their birth parents – work which is always in demand, recession or not.
One of the cases Moratti’s most proud of was helping a woman find her birth mother, who gave her up for adoption at Auckland’s Salvation Army Bethany Home for Single Mothers 40 years ago.
All the records about the birth mother were false.
But there was a crossed-out piece of information on the back of the information card.
“That mother of the client initially denied being the mum, but once I gave her the information about her daughter, they ended up having a really nice reunion. That was tough, it took quite a long time, but I just didn’t let go.”
Connecting Kiwis with their birth parent is personal for Moratti. One of his first cases was to find his own mother’s birth mother.
“Traditional PI work alongside Ancestry.com and DNA is a powerful team,” he says.
Cheat-buster Julia Hartley Moore has been a pioneer for women in the industry, gaining expertise as an insurance investigator before founding her own company in 1996.
Hartley Moore – phoning from her new home in Biarritz in France – today co-ordinates a team of six in the United Kingdom, New Caledonia, and New Zealand, though most investigations are based in New Zealand. She’s a constant advocate for women in the industry.
(Nearly a third of the 213 private investigators recorded in the 2018 Census were women, and three of the seven NZIPI board members are women).
The 71-year-old is best known for “60 per cent infidelity, 40 per cent custody” work and years of TV and radio, including running her own production company, Blonde Ambition.
The fact that Hartley Moore has become so well known is a problem in itself.
She says, tongue in cheek, that a lot of her work has been “answering the phone” for the past 20 years – a side-effect of having so many media appearances that she can be easily spotted.
She says her team, a mixture of men and women, fit into all situations.
“Trust me, we blend in, and we’re not all white.”
So you want to be a PI?
The websites of most Kiwi private eyes tend to carry a “Sorry, no vacancies” message, although people persistent enough might find contracting work in one of New Zealand’s 70-odd PI businesses.
One criminology student who has been contracting for Ron McQuilter’s Paragon NZ is thinking of leaving lectures and starting her own outfit.
The number one skill a good PI needs is interview skills, McQuilter says.
“If you think because you used to have a badge and power that that’s going to take you somewhere, then you’re dreaming. It’s all about your ability to engage and relate to people.”
You don’t need to be ex-police, but you do need to know the law, he says.
“There’s a lot of scrutiny on your work by the clients. They might know what the outcome should be before you do, and they might know what legal rules you should be working under.”
Would-be PIs can take a $550 professional investigations course with C4 Group then pay $680 for a Government-approved PI licence.
As for disguises, sporting a Magnum PI moustache isn’t important although Sabin confirms altering facial hair occasionally is part of undercover work.
Dramatic chases and arrests are extremely rare for PIs who, like all citizens, can make an arrest when a serious offence (punishable by three or more years in prison) happens during the day or when any offence happens at night.
Upcoming changes to the Crimes Act 1961 will mean that citizens can intervene to stop Crimes Act offences at any time of the day, regardless of the severity of the crime.
Auckland PI Daniel Toresen has occasionally performed citizens’ arrests, including two 17-year-old schoolboys who were blackmailing a client.
Toresen’s team dropped off a bag of fake money for a sting before tackling the blackmailers.
“Members of the public also called the police because it was such a drama,” Toresen says.
Photo / Michael Craig
All the PIs spoken to for this article said they’ve turned down job requests which were legally borderline.
Toresen: “We had one client who wanted to pay us thousands to provide him with a report which would say we surveilled his ex-wife and we saw the ex-wife’s new partner doing something illegal in the house”.
The person requesting the dirty work turned out to be a justice of the peace, Toresen’s team diligently reported the bad behaviour, police got involved, and the dodgy JP was sent to prison.
Sign up to The Daily H, a free newsletter curated by our editors and delivered straight to your inbox every weekday.