Derek Pedley talks the true story behind The Postcard Bandit
- Allen & Unwin

- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
We chat to Derek Pedley, author of The Postcard Bandit, about the incredible true story of Australian outlaw Brenden Abbott.

A&U: You’ve been writing about Brenden Abbott for decades. What made now the right time to revisit and fully revise this story?
DP: It’s been 20 years since the first edition was published and a lot has happened, even though Abbott has been in prison since then. Across the years, Abbott has shared more important stories of his life with me that were worth adding to the book, including his 2016 extradition from Brisbane to Perth. I’d also gleaned more insights from his family, including his son, James, and James mother, Louise Laycock, who gave her first-ever interview.
The new edition also coincided with a legal bid by Brenden Abbott to have his prison sentence declared unlawful, and with the first edition being adapted for the Warner-Bros-Binge mini-series, Run, and the two-part documentary series, The Postcard Bandit.
A&U: The ‘Postcard Bandit’ has become almost mythic in Australian culture. What do people usually get wrong about Abbott?
DP: The postcards. There is a persistent myth that Brenden Abbott sent postcards to police, but the only postcard ever sent was by the police to Brenden Abbott, not the other way around. But because there were pictures of Abbott living it while he was on the run, the media just keeps repeating this falsehood. The truth is this: A roll of film was recovered from a stolen car used by Abbott and fellow prison escapee Aaron Reynolds in December 1989. That film contained images taken at their bush camp near Dwellingup. It included a picture of Reynolds posing cheekily outside the Dwellingup police station, and that image became infamous. Weeks later - after Abbott and Reynolds had been on a trip around Australia with Japanese tourist Masao Ayuda - Reynolds returned to Perth, where he was arrested. He was in possession of a second roll of film that documented their journey to iconic locations like Uluru.
Both those rolls of film ended up being widely published in the media and the police never corrected the media claim that Abbott had sent the pictures to them. It’s a myth that’s always irked Abbott, but once a story is in the media, it’s very hard to get it corrected. In truth, the only postcard ever sent was by WA police to Abbott, after his arrest in Queensland in 1995. You had extraordinary access to Abbott over many years.
A&U: What surprised you most about him once the legend fell away?
DP: He is undoubtedly a criminal mastermind, and other prison inmates call him Lex (as in Luthor, the supervillain from Superman.) But he’s actually a very unassuming and friendly person. He tells a lot of dad jokes, and is always looking to find the humour in a situation. He has an “everyman” quality that is surprising.
A&U: You describe Abbott as a chameleon, capable of reinvention, persuasion and performance. Do you think those same traits could ever have led him down a very different path?
DP: Abbott’s high intelligence and natural curiosity would have made him successful in whatever field he chose. He was a highly skilled self-taught mechanic and was so good with electronics that bank security staff were baffled by what he did to disable their systems. He has an incredible eye for detail and intelligence gathering. He’s also an accomplished artist. He has a shrewd and inquisitive mind, and he reads people very well. He’s also unnervingly calm in high-stakes situations. Police say he would’ve made a great detective, and I think if he’d been a business man, he would’ve made a lot of money.
A&U: This edition includes new material, anecdotes and images. What was the most revealing new detail you uncovered while updating the book?
DP: I had a great “gotcha” moment while researching the new material. I’d heard stories that when police arrested Abbott in 1995, they’d taken a picture of him after it happened. But it had never been published anywhere and I’d lost all hope of obtaining it. Then I happened to speak to the right person, who not only confirmed the existence of the picture, they asked if I’d like a copy. The picture was just as dramatic as I’d hoped it would be, and I was able to finally publish it. It was worth the 30-year wait to get my hands on it.
A&U: As a journalist, you’ve covered many crimes. What makes Abbott’s story linger in the national imagination more than most?
DP: There are very particular elements in Abbott’s story that appeal to the Australian psyche. The infamous “postcards” pictures, which showed him living it up while on the run, imbued him with a sense of larrikinism. His lifelong defiance of authority, whom he refers to as the Powers That Be, appeals to many people. His innate sense of humour: he would crack jokes during bank robberies, taunted police who tried to entrap him via a seized pager, and signed a prison transfer form he left behind in his cell when he escaped. Abbott also escaped custody three times, including from two maximum-security prisons, which is a rare feat. And central to his mystique is that for five-and-a-half years, he lived a covert life as a fugitive that was cinematic in its audacity. Disguises, aliases, safehouses and holidays, all funded by bank robberies. His story embodies danger, humour, defiance, intrigue, mystery, excitement - it’s a combination that’s irresistible to the public imagination. The book raises big questions about punishment, solitary confinement and justice.
A&U: Did your views on incarceration change while writing it?
DP: I am now convinced that locking people in tiny rooms for decades is not conducive to rehabilitation. Brenden Abbott’s prison sentence has always been about punishment, not rehabilitation. True crime often asks readers to sit with discomfort.
A&U: What do you hope readers feel when they finish The Postcard Bandit?
DP: Ultimately, I think Brenden Abbott’s story evokes a sense of sadness. It was a waste of a life that could have been so much more. He could have achieved great things, but instead he chose to be a violent criminal who traumatised many, many people - and he has paid a very high price for that.
The Postcard Bandit by Derek Pedley is available now
from your book retailer of choice.
The Postcard Bandit
by Derek Pedley
The authorised biography of notorious professional criminal Brenden Abbott chronicling his extraordinary life on the run and decades in maximum security.


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