Salim Mehajer’s latest attempt to appeal his convictions for domestic violence and fraud offenses has been rejected on the grounds that the evidence he claims could prove his innocence was “highly speculative”.
Additionally, his bail application was rejected after the New South Wales Court of Criminal Appeal determined that he had sufficient resources and facilities at his disposal in prison.
As Mehajer’s bid for freedom fails, Daily Mail Australia journalist Steve Jackson recounts his surreal encounter with the disgraced property developer when he was last released from prison in 2019…
Salim Mehajer and I are speeding down the Snowy Mountains Highway in a rented black Mercedes-Benz, pursued by Australia’s fiercest paparazzo.
The convicted conman looks in the rearview mirror, agitated.
But it soon becomes clear that he couldn’t care less about the stubborn photographer following us.
‘Did you think I looked fat?’ He demands.
‘That?’
Salim Mehajer walks free from Cooma Correctional Center in southern New South Wales on May 21, 2019 after spending 11 months in prison for election fraud.
‘When I came out of prison, did you think I looked fat? Because I’m not.
He looks at himself in the mirror again and sighs.
‘Actually, can you stop?’ he says. “I want to see the photos again.”
It’s May 21, 2019, and the disgraced former deputy mayor of Auburn has just walked free from Cooma Correctional Centre, about an hour south of Canberra, after serving 11 months behind bars for election fraud.
Along with a 60 Minutes crew, I just picked him up outside the medium-security prison with plans to take him back to Sydney along a complicated set of back roads designed to give way to rival media (and paparazzi). .
We’ve been discussing the possibility of interviewing Mehajer on 60 Minutes with her attorney Zali Burrows for weeks, and while no deal has been reached, she believes the road trip could provide the perfect opportunity to discuss details.
But as I soon realize, Salim is not a detail-oriented type of person, unless it relates to his appearance and celebrity aspirations.
The image is the most important thing in your world.
Journalist Steve Jackson (right) was there to meet Mehajer (left) with a 60 Minutes film crew in a rented black Mercedes Benz.
For Mehajer, getting out of prison isn’t a walk of shame, it’s a red carpet moment with him as the star attraction.
Burrows has even brought a new designer suit for Mehajer to be photographed as he struts toward our waiting van, which, we’re told, must be a luxury model appropriately befitting his “prestigious” public profile.
In the end, the new suit proves too tight and he is forced to suffer the ignominy of walking free in the same blue suit in which he was arrested.
Unfortunately, it’s also about to burst and is so tight that he had a hard time getting the fly all the way up.
But there are no such size issues with Mehajer’s new model. Louis Vuitton tie and black sunglasses, as he confidently leaves prison at 8:45 in the morning with a folder in his hand and the air of a busy and important man.
“You missed your chance. I actually had something to say, but I’ll have to wait until next time,” he tells the respectable-sized media group that has gathered at the prison for his release before climbing into our van.
Mehajer left prison wearing the same suit he was wearing on the day of his arrest.
Mehajer told the press group gathered outside the prison that they had missed the opportunity to interview him before we drove him back to Sydney along a network of back roads.
Under his strict parole conditions, Mehajer is prohibited from using a mobile phone or accessing social media, but nothing will stop him from basking in the glow of this glorious moment.
Can I scroll through news websites on my phone and hold it up so he can see all the coverage?
No problem, Salim.
It turns out that Daily Mail Australia is the first site to report on Mehajer’s release.
But he doesn’t like what he sees: the Mail has noticed that his suit doesn’t fit well and comments on how tight it is.
The images are particularly confronting for him.
Can I urgently contact someone at Daily Mail Australia and explain that it’s not because he’s fat, but because he’s not? It’s because he has been working out in the prison gym during his long incarceration.
No problem, Salim.
I soon realize that we are also one of their designer’s accessories.
He wants to be seen as an interesting, important man with something to say, and being cast by a big-budget TV team is the ultimate accessory.
But he has little interest in our plan to stay out of the public eye and secrete him back to Sydney via a road trip that would eventually take 10 grueling hours.
Instead, he asks if we can make repeated stops, ostensibly so he can check the latest headlines on my phone, but also so he can “unknowingly” pose for the following paparazzi.
No problem, Salim.
The former deputy mayor was continually photographed as we made numerous stops on the trip, including a visit to Bateman’s Bay Soldiers Club for lunch.
When it comes to talking about the 60 Minutes interview, you’re less worried about what they’ll ask you than what you’ll look like when they ask you.
What angles would we be filming it from? What would the lighting be like? Should you get Botox? I thought his left or right side would flatter him more?
When serious (and often confrontational) accusations are raised against him, he is less talkative.
Election fraud, assaulting a taxi driver outside the Star casino, making sexual abuse and death threats, failed business deals, unpaid debts, intimidating the father of a survivor of the Lindt Café siege, a restrained violence order issued by his ex-wife Aysha Learmonth.
Image-obsessed Mehajer knows that none of this is a good look.
In the end, he would be quietly sentenced to more than seven years in prison in May 2023 after being found guilty. a series of crimes, including internal violence and fraudulent use of documents.
The 38-year-old this month failed in his bid to be released on bail as he fights to overturn those convictions in the New South Wales Court of Criminal Appeal.
Mehajer rose to fame in 2015 after his lavish wedding to his now ex-wife Aysha Learmonth, which involved crashing helicopters and sports cars on a Sydney street.
However, in 2019, the then-newly released Mehajer is keen to steer the conversation about the road trip away from criminal proceedings and toward his proceedings with criminals.
He wants to explain how highly appreciated he is behind bars.
How all the other inmates had initially been unsympathetic to him, only for him to become the most popular prisoner there, even among the guards.
A true prince among thieves.
She’s also happy to talk about her meteoric rise to prominence after her lavish 2015 wedding to Learmonth (complete with a fighter jet, four helicopters, a fleet of sports cars and a seaplane) that closed streets in western Sydney, outrage to their neighbors.
Do you think the furious public reaction to your over-the-top ceremony proved that one of the biggest crimes you can commit in Australia is showing off your opulent wealth?
A Cheshire cat smile.
“Did you think he looked opulent?” ask.
Despite the rampant narcissism, there is something disarming and strangely charming about Mehajer.
He’s also quite funny at times, although even his jokes are usually limited to his favorite topic of conversation: himself.
When discussing possible story titles for his grand tale, I suggest that ‘The Real Salim Shady’ might be an appropriate choice.
He smiles.
“As long as it’s not Fatboy Salim,” he laughs.
But there’s another, darker side to Mehajer simmering just beneath the surface.
Then comes the moment when it finally explodes.
The convicted fraudster was more concerned about his ill-fitting suit than the serious accusations leveled against him during the day-long trip.
Mehajer and her lawyer Zali Burrows buy a drink and a snack at another stop
It happens during one of our many stops to check out the latest Mehajer headlines.
Someone from 60 Minutes told the Sydney Morning Herald that they approached us with the idea of doing a sit-down interview.
He is outraged.
“No, no, no, you have to call them immediately and let them know that 60 Minutes reached out to me,” he demands.
I haven’t even asked for anything, I don’t need to ask journalists to interview me.
The calls are made. History changed.
Mehajer’s anger is contained, although not completely calmed.
However, he suggests he might forgive the incident if we can get him to attend the TV Week Logie Awards.
Mehajer is quite excited about the idea of walking a royal red carpet alongside real, authentic Australian celebrities.
In the end, that doesn’t happen… and neither does 60 Minutes say everything.
Mehajer decides that a contentious interview might not be best for her image after all.
No problem, Salim.