The jail life of Claremont killer Bradley Edwards: Grooming guards and being on monitored sleeping positions

Claremont killer Bradley Edwards is an obsessively neat prisoner who grooms his guards with smooth talk and lingering gazes. He spends his days in Casuarina either tidying his cell — which prison officers joke is clean enough to eat off the floor — or working in a jail-house textiles factory. On the fifth anniversary of his conviction, The West Australian can reveal intimate details of the 56-year-old’s life in prison. On September 24, 2020, Edwards was found guilty of murdering Jane Rimmer and Ciara Glennon, but not convicted over Sarah Spiers’ disappearance, although the judge said it was “likely” Edwards was involved. Serving a life sentence, he is one of only a handful of prisoners at Casuarina to have his own cell. He is currently caged inside unit six — an area reserved for prisoners at risk of being attacked if they were in the general population. Edwards has been inside the maximum security jail since February 2019, when he was transferred from Hakea Prison after he stabbed himself in the ear with a pencil. His first few months at Casuarina were spent in the crisis care unit, where inmates considered suicide risks are sent. While in that unit he was monitored closely by a guard stationed in a side room. That officer kept his eye on cameras trained on Edwards and physically checked on him every hour. Worried members of Edwards’ family were given the personal mobile numbers of senior jail officials so they could keep tabs on their infamous relative as he recovered from his injury. When he received visitors, the entire prison was shut down — an unprecedented security measure. Every inmate was ushered into their cells so nobody could see him being moved. An officer was assigned to monitor him exclusively, keeping an hourly “occurrence” log so detailed it included information about the positions he slept in. Edwards was designated a “high security escort” as soon as he was arrested in 2016. That meant that when his trial started in November 2019 the Department of Justice’s crack Special Operations Group escorted him to court each sitting day of the seven-month case. They entered the crisis care unit through a side entrance, bundling him into a vehicle which was followed by an armed response team for the entire 35km journey from Casuarina to the Supreme Court. He was moved to Casuarina’s protection unit, mingling with paedophiles and snitches, after he was handed a life sentence in December 2020. Over the past few years, Edwards has developed a reputation for being a smooth talker who holds a person gaze with an unblinking stare. He occasionally flashes a smile, revealing conspicuously small upper teeth. Edwards displays little emotion, maintaining a cool demeanour regardless of what is happening around him. Staff who know him have come to understand how he was able to lure women into his car when he prowled the streets of Claremont three decades ago. His cell is kept meticulously. It is spotlessly clean and every item on every shelf in arranged at precise angles. Staff are convinced he has obsessive compulsive disorder. Inside the three metre-by-two metre area he calls home, Edwards plays video games. He is able to purchase new games from the prison canteen, using money his family puts into his account or the meagre wage he earns from his prison job. Like many people in unit six, he works in a prison industries program which is devoted to textiles. There, he makes bags and items of clothing used in the jail, earning at most $76 a week. Edwards is escorted to the textiles area in a carefully orchestrated procession. There is one prison officer for every 10 criminals in his group and all movement is stopped when he and other residents of unit six are shuffled to the work zone. He is patted down when he enters the factory and again when he leaves. The work, whilst tedious, is the most interesting part of his day. Edwards’ life is now one of relentless monotony. He is counted in the prison muster four times a day. The first occurs no later than 7am and takes place while Edwards is still locked in his cell. The head count is entered into Casuarina’s master computer program — the total offender management system, or TOMS, as guards and inmates call it. If Edwards has to leave the prison early for medical attention he is unlocked before dawn by Casuarina’s night recovery team. A prison officer remains in the unit with Edwards on these days. When he is moved outside unit six he is escorted by at least two guards, often, but not always, handcuffed. On normal days, Edwards remains in his cell until prison officers on day shift arrive. His cell door is unlocked but he remains inside until cleared to exit. There are four landings inside unit six — two on the ground floor and two on the first floor — and each landing is sealed off by a security grille. That grille is kept closed while Edwards and his fellow prisoners shuffle out of their cells. Once all landings are unlocked a control officer opens the grilles and Edwards walks to the communal “day room” for breakfast. He has the option of porridge or cereals, including Wheet Bix, and shares two copies of The West Australian with the 100-odd prisoners he eats with. The bland, stodgy breakfast is a far cry from the bacon and eggs fry-up a fellow prisoner cooked for Edwards to celebrate the killer’s 51st birthday in 2019. That illicit meal saw at least one guard almost lose their job. After breakfast, Edwards cleans his cell. He gets ready for work and while doing that will keep an ear cocked for any medication that might need to be dispensed to him. At some point in the morning, Edwards will stand by as a prison officer inspects his cell. He then walks to the unit’s front yard, where he gathers with other prisoners who have jobs. Edwards usually now eats lunch in the industries tea room but if he isn’t rostered to work he is served in the day room of unit six. Between 10am and 11am insulated meal trolleys are dropped at the gates of the unit and a control officer announces which of the unit’s four wings are “on the dish up”, with everyone eating between 11am and midday. After plates and cutlery are cleaned up, guards call the “lunchtime lockup”. Edwards is marked off on a cell count sheet before being unlocked between 1pm and 1.15pm. If he is working, Edwards will be counted by his vocational skills officer while going about his business in the textiles area. On a work day he returns to his unit around 2.15pm and at 3.30pm is again counted — this time while he stands by his cell door holding his prison identification. One afternoon each week, Edwards has the opportunity of going to the prison gym. The gym is locked and no other prisoners allowed in if that happens. He eats dinner any time between 4.15pm and 6.30pm. The final muster count is conducted between 6.20pm and 6.30pm, after he is locked in his cell for the night. Between 9pm and 10pm he hears a prison office escorting a nurse charged with administering evening medications, which are given to prisoners through their door hatches. During the night, so-called recovery staff have to do a minimum of three welfare checks on all prisoners. Edwards is checked once before midnight and twice after.