Watson-Munro was a high profile Melbourne forensic psychologist.

He was the profiler of some of Melbourne's most prominent criminals and gave evidence as an expert witness at several notable criminal cases.

Watson-Munro was one of the best-known and busiest people in his field.

Others, including a former colleagues, however saw him as a "big-noter who hung around with the wrong people."

In September 1999, Watson-Munro, then 46 and of Hawthorn, was charged with using and possessing cocaine between January 1, 1997, and September 12, 1999.

A street-smart operator with a flair for self-publicity, he parlayed his unusual double-barrelled name into a recognised label in the way some astute criminal barristers do, establishing reputations that rival their talents.

He formed a symbiotic relationship with several such advocates, who called him as an expert witness for the defence in hundreds of cases.

In the 1990's, Watson-Munro was quoted in 172 newspaper stories nationwide, and had been a regular on radio and television.

He was seen as a man whose opinion is for hire - and who became a fixture on the short list of "dial-a-quote'' experts automatically called for comment by many in the media.

The cases Watson-Munro had been involved with included those of child killer, Mr Cruel, and Hoddle street gunman, Julian Knight.

In November 1988, he was quoted blaming "bastardisation'' at Duntroon Military College for contributing to his clients murderous shooting rampage.

He also counselled four of the Hoddle St survivors.

In the early 1990's, Watson-Munro was a vital expert witness on the state of business tycoon, Alan Bond's health. 

In December 1993, Watson-Munro flew across the continent to tell the magistrate that Bond was anxious and depressed, had "spoken of suicide and lacked the mental ability to run a corner store" - an opinion that prompted guffaws among Bond watchers.

This testimony led to Bond's trial on the Manet fraud charges being put off for six months and almost led to Bond's bankruptcy examination being abandoned altogether.

Prominent criminal lawyer and friend of Watson-Munro, Andrew Fraser, arrested on drugs charges shortly before Watson-Munro, was also on Bond's team.

Watson-Munro had sworn to a court that Mr Bond was depressed, fragile, vulnerable, suicidal and anxious - and would be so stressed in the witness box he could break down.

In a January 2002 article in the Herald Sun and written by Derryn Hinch, the journalist recalled a book he had read entitled "Going for broke - How Bond got away with it", by Paul Barry.

Hinch referred to Alan Bond as the biggest and bravest, most brazen and clever corporate crook and reminded the reader that in his youth, Bond was caught on premises with housebreaking equipment.

What grabbed the attention of Hinch was a 1994 photo portraying a "tragic Bondy, having collapsed on the first day of his fraud trial in Perth, staggering from the court in his raincoat with his eyes closed and face in a tormented grimace.

On one side is lawyer Andrew Fraser, later jailed for cocaine importation.

Clutching the other arm and looking concerned is Tim Watson-Munro.

Hinch concluded his piece by writing "we don't know what Fraser and Mr Watson Munro were on at the time Mr Bond was on the run."

By the age of 46, Watson-Munro managed to make himself the best-known forensic psychologist in Australia, not only by what he said in court but what he said outside it.

He also counselled underworld figures including standover man, drug dealer and alleged murderer Alphonse Gangitano - a client for 18 months before his execution-style slaying in 1998. 

In 1995 Watson-Munro was covertly observed dining with Gangitano, and big time WA drug trafficker John Kizon at a Melbourne restaurant. 

Kizon was a criminal at the centre of West Australian inquiries involving corrupt police activities, especially bribery.

There were also two well known underworld stand over men at the lunch.

Watson-Munro gave character references for Gangitano who had pleaded guilty to 13 charges including threatening to kill a policeman, weapons possession and inflicting serious injury.

In 1997, when disgraced former Coles Myer executive Brian Quinn faced court, Watson-Munro gave evidence that he suffered from "reactive depression''.

Ironically, at a time when his own cocaine use was turning from social to habitual, he was treating private school children for their drug problems - and happily milking publicity from it - solemnly stating that some were spending "fortunes" on amphetamines and cocaine.

On September 14, 1999, Watson-Munro was questioned by the drug squad as part of Operation Regent.

Senior Constable Mick Batten later told Melbourne Magistrates Court that Watson-Munro had surrendered to police after a five-week drug squad investigation.

Early that day, a subdued Watson-Munro walked into the foyer of St Kilda Road CIB headquarters with his lawyer, Brian Rolfe, quietly identified himself to the two officers at the reception desk and asked to go to the drug squad offices on the 12th floor.

Watson-Munro looked ill. He was drawn, thin and jumpy.

He had chosen to turn himself in before the police came knocking.

In the words of one detective, "he surrendered because he knew the game was up''.

He was asked about 150 questions.

Watson-Munro was no stranger at the crime complex, which is only a few blocks away from his office near the corner of Commercial Road.

A self-promoted expert in all matters criminal, one of his many hats had been to advise police on hostages and negotiation.

Drug squad detectives weren't surprised to see the man in the dark suit.

He was there by appointment.

Two days before, they had arrested another prominent professional, Andrew Fraser, over possession of cocaine, and warrants had already been sworn to search Watson-Munro's office and house in Hawthorn.

Watson-Munro answered every one of the questions put to him by police.

In just 40 minutes he poured out the story of how a professional achiever had reduced his life to the tawdry daily ritual of chasing a gram of cocaine to stick up his nose.

He had to admit he had become just another junkie.

Senior Constable Batten said Watson-Munro was identified through tapes of conversations intercepted in a city office as part of the investigation.

He told the court that Watson-Munro had first tried cocaine four years ago, but during the past 12 months came to use a gram of the drug each day.

Having been trapped by the phone intercepts and bugs (at one point actually snorting cocaine), Watson-Munro made a statement to police, in the hope that he would be treated more leniently.

He also appeared to have alleged that Fraser supplied him with cocaine.

If convicted, Watson-Munro realised he could face a maximum jail term of five years.

On Tuesday December 16, 1999, he went to Melbourne Magistrates Court to confess in public what he had been forced to confess in private three months earlier.

Watson-Munro admitted in court to a $2000-a-week cocaine addiction and claimed to have suffered a major depressive illness.

The criminal psychologist decided to plead guilty to one count of cocaine use and one count of possession.

His counsel, Mr Terry Forrest, QC, told the court that Watson-Munro's use of the drug had increased because of the depressive illness he suffered after losing his first wife to cancer the previous year.

He had also lost a baby from his second marriage.

Watson-Munro also talked of the code he and Fraser used when discussing drugs over the phone.

"I've got the boots and I'm ready to play footy," was one such euphemism to put listeners off the scent.

"I'm going to see a man who has lots of concrete blocks in his car," was another.

When giving evidence in the case of Fraser, a 'sad and crumpled' Watson-Munro for the prosecution was asked by Fraser's defence, Geoff Chettle whether he had evidence that Fraser sold drugs to him for profit.

He said he did not.

He agreed that he had asked Fraser to "procure" for him "as a friend".

"It's a bit like going down to the shop and asking someone to pick up something for me while you're there?", Chettle asked. "Yes," said Watson-Munro, "that's a sound analogy."

Ms Lillian Lieder, QC, who also represented Alphonse Gangitano, gave character evidence for Watson-Munro, with whom she has worked for more than 15 years.

"I have always found him to be a man of the highest integrity," she said.

The magistrate, Mr Bruce Cottrill , said a conviction would halt a "significant and very important" career and Watson-Munro had already paid an "enormous price" through his addiction that had cost him $2000 a week.

Mr Cottrill said he had been impressed by character witnesses, and Watson-Munro's integrity was "beyond reproach".

He fined him $1000 and placed him on a 12-month good behaviour bond.

This decision provoked uproar in the Melbourne legal fraternity.

An example of the anger some people felt is posted below.

Tim Watson-Munro - By Emanuel Goldberg January 1, 2001 from cyberjustice.com.au

What standards does the Psychologists Board have when one of it's high-profile practitioners, Tim Watson-Munro, is allowed to practise after admitting using cocaine for four years and having a cocaine habit?

Who in their right mind would seek help from a person who has a $300 a day cocaine habit and has recently been found guilty of professional misconduct by his own psychology board?

In the past the word "professional" was an obligation, not just a title accepted without responsibility.

Tim Watson-Munro received a $1000 fine and a good behaviour bond.

What sentence was inflicted on his clients who were recipients of what he considered were "professional assessments"?

What adverse effects did his drug habit have on ability to make accurate assessments? How did this affect his clients and their families?

The media went to great lengths to report on his depression and inability to cope with life's problems, almost to the point of expecting sympathy for his actions.

If such a high-profile psychologist with all his contacts and lucrative income can't be assisted by his own profession, when suffering from depression, what does this say about this profession?

All of this makes me depressed.