Suspect Revealed in Solved 1979 Perth Cold Case, Shocking Locals
Suspect Revealed in Solved 1979 Perth Cold Case, Shocking Locals
45 years ago, a 22-year-old woman disappeared in Western Australia. The next morning, forestry workers followed the smoke deep into the bush. What they found was horrifying. Karen Mary Tate’s body had been beaten and placed over a smoldering tree stump. Whoever killed her had tried to turn the crime scene into a fire and erase whatever evidence they had left behind, but they failed because something survived.
For 45 years, that evidence sat quietly in police files until investigators returned to it. And what happened next would take them through a genetic family tree containing more than 10,000 people. Somewhere inside that enormous family tree was the answer to a question Karen’s family had been asking since 1979, who killed Karen Tate? This is her story.
Before we go any further, remember the 22-year-old woman who left home on an ordinary Saturday morning and never made it back. For decades, her family lived with one unanswered question. So, if you believe victims like Karen deserve to be remembered, subscribe to the channel and tell me where you’re watching from because sometimes keeping a victim’s name alive is the only thing we can still do for them.
Now, let’s go back to the beginning. Before Karen Tate became the subject of a murder investigation, she was a 22-year-old woman trying to build a new life after suffering a loss no parent should ever have to endure. Karen Mary Tate was born in Victoria in April 1957. When she was about a year old, her family moved to New South Wales where she grew up and was educated.
People who knew Karen described her as social with a few close friends and many acquaintances, but she also enjoyed her own company. She was artistic, loved music and dancing, and worked in the arts. Music was an important part of her life, and she owned a distinctive vintage sunburst Gibson guitar. In 1975, Karen married an Englishman.
Two years later, she gave birth to twin girls. Then tragedy struck. One of her daughters, Amber, died at just 20 weeks old from sudden infant death syndrome. Karen was still a young woman herself, but she had already experienced the kind of loss that can change the course of a person’s life.
In 1978, she left New South Wales and traveled to Western Australia, beginning a new chapter far from the life she had known. By the time she was 22, Karen was living in Perth. She stayed at a residence on Barley Street in Mount Lawley, while also house sitting a property for friends on Brookton Highway in Carabooda. Mount Lawley kept her close to the friends and social life she enjoyed.
Carabooda was different, a rural setting where she was looking after someone else’s home. And moving between the two was not always straightforward. Karen did not drive. She often relied on lifts and was known to hitchhike. She was even known to carry a black helmet in case someone offered her a ride on a motorcycle.
For Karen, hitchhiking was simply part of how she got around. But beneath this new life was everything she had already been through, the daughter she had lost, the life she had left behind in New South Wales, and the fresh start she was trying to build in Western Australia. She was the oldest of five siblings.
She had friends, she had interests, and she was trying to move forward. Then came the final weekend of December 1979. What happened during those final hours would change her family forever. On Friday, December 28, 1979, Karen Tate went to a dance at the North Cottesloe Surf Life Saving Club with a friend. It was an ordinary night for a young woman who enjoyed music, dancing, and being around people.
Around midnight, she left the club and continued the night with friends at a residence in Swanbourne. By the following morning, she had returned to Mount Lawley. At approximately 11:00 a.m. on Saturday, December 29, Karen was dropped off at the Barley Street residence where she was staying. That would become the last confirmed point in her movements.
She was alive, she was in Mount Lawley, and she intended to make her way to Carabooda, where she was house sitting a property on Brookton Highway. Without a car, Karen would have to rely on the same means of transportation she had used before, accepting a lift or hitchhiking. At some point after 11:00 that morning, she left Mount Lawley, and then the trail disappeared.
There is no confirmed record of who picked her up, no established account of the vehicle she entered, and no witness who could later tell investigators where she went after leaving Barley Street. The last known description of Karen is therefore painfully ordinary. She was 22 years old, wearing a light-colored blouse, dark blue jeans, sandals, and a belt with a large metal buckle.
She carried a brown shoulder bag, and wore a gold Seiko automatic calendar watch. She was simply trying to get to Karagullen. There was nothing to suggest that this journey would be her last, but somewhere between Mount Lawley and her destination, Karen disappeared. The following morning was Sunday, December 30th, 1979.
Karen had been missing for less than 24 hours. In Karagullen, within the Canning Dam catchment area, forestry workers noticed what appeared to be a bushfire. The smoke was coming from an area approximately 800 m south of Brookton Highway, around 40 km from Mount Lawley. When they reached the location, they discovered that this was no ordinary bushfire.
There was a woman’s body. It was Karen Mary Tate. She had been brutally beaten. Near her body was a heavy piece of wood, heavily stained with blood. Forensic examination identified it as the weapon used in the attack, which had caused the injuries that killed her. But whoever had killed Karen had done something else.
Her body had been placed over a smoldering tree stump, which was still burning when the workers arrived. The fire had caused severe thermal damage to parts of her remains. Around the charred stump, investigators also found burnt objects and silver medallions arranged in a distinct semicircle. The strange appearance of the scene soon gave rise to rumors that Karen had been murdered as part of an occult or witchcraft ritual.
but the appearance of a crime scene and what the evidence actually showed were two different things. Western Australia police ultimately ruled out any connection between Karen’s murder and witchcraft or an occult lifestyle. Instead, the fire appeared to serve a far more practical purpose. Someone had beaten Karen to death. Then they had tried to destroy what they had left behind.
The heat damaged her remains. It burned clothing and other objects, and whoever was responsible may have believed that fire would erase the evidence of what had happened, but it didn’t. Because even after the flames had done their damage, something from that crime scene survived. Something investigators collected in 1979 would remain in police evidence for decades.
And 45 years later, that surviving piece of evidence would become the key to answering the question Karen’s family had been asking since the day she disappeared. When Karen Tate’s body was discovered in December 1979, Western Australia police launched an immediate homicide investigation. But almost from the beginning, detectives faced a problem that would eventually define the case. They knew Karen had been murdered.
They knew she had suffered a brutal beating. They knew her killer had attempted to destroy evidence by setting fire to the scene. But they did not know who had killed her, and they had almost nothing that could lead them to him. Karen had left Mount Lawley at approximately 11:00 that morning. After that, there was a gap of roughly 7 hours before the fire was noticed in the bushland.
No witness could account for where she had gone during those missing hours. No witness placed her with the person who would eventually kill her, and the fire had made an already difficult investigation even harder. The killer had placed Karen over a burning stump, causing severe thermal damage to her body and surrounding evidence. Investigators also had to contend with the limitations of forensic science in 1979.
The technology available to detectives then was nowhere near what it is today. There There no modern DNA profiling capable of identifying an unknown offender from a crime scene exhibit. There were no genetic genealogy databases waiting to be searched, and without a useful fingerprint, witness, or other reliable lead pointing to a suspect, the investigation gradually ran out of places to go.
Even the strange appearance of the crime scene generated theories that investigators had to examine. Rumors circulated that Karen had been murdered as part of some kind of witchcraft or occult ritual. Police investigated the possibility, but ultimately rejected it. What remained was a brutal murder with no identified killer.
The case went cold, and for decades, Karen Tate’s killer remained unknown. Then forensic technology changed. More than 40 years after the murder, investigators returned to the evidence that had been preserved since 1979, and this time, they were able to recover something the original investigators could never have obtained, an unknown male DNA profile.
One of the most important exhibits was the blood-stained piece of wood identified as the weapon used to beat Karen. Modern forensic examination of the preserved evidence produced a genetic profile belonging to an unidentified man. For the first time, investigators had something that could potentially lead them to the person responsible, but there was an important limitation.
Police have not publicly disclosed the exact biological origin of the DNA sample that produced the profile. So, there is no basis for saying that the DNA came from semen, skin cells, or blood. What investigators could establish was much simpler, an unknown male genetic profile had been recovered from evidence associated with Karen’s murder, and it had survived.
The passage of time had not erased it. The fire had not erased it, and 44 years had not erased it. The evidence had survived long enough for forensic science to finally make use of it, but there was still a problem. An unknown DNA profile was not a name. There was no identified suspect whose DNA could simply be compared against it.
So, investigators had to find another way to answer the question that had remained unanswered since 1979. Who was this man? The profile did not match anyone in the official police databases. The DNA could tell investigators that the unknown man existed. It could not tell them his name.
So, detectives turned to a different approach. The profile was developed using single nucleotide polymorphism or SNP analysis. Unlike conventional forensic DNA profiles, which are primarily designed for direct comparison, SNP analysis can examine a much larger number of genetic markers across the genome. That opened a completely different possibility.
Instead of asking only, “Whose DNA is this?” investigators could ask, “Who is genetically related to this man?” The unknown profile was handed to Western Australia’s investigative genetic genealogy team. Investigators uploaded the profile to public genealogy databases, including GEDmatch and Family Tree DNA, looking for people who shared genetic material with the unknown man.
The results did not simply produce a name. They produced relatives, people who might never have heard of Karen Tate, people who might never have known that somewhere in their family tree was a man whose DNA had been preserved at a murder scene for more than four decades. And finding those relatives was only the beginning.
A team of four investigators spent approximately 12 months tracing the genetic connections. Some of the matches were six or even seven generations removed from the unknown man. So, investigators had to work backward through generations, parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, siblings, cousins, distant branches of families stretching across centuries.
The family tree became enormous. More than 10,000 people were eventually mapped, and the research reached back as far as the 1600s. 10,000 people, hundreds of years of family connections, and somewhere inside that enormous network was the biological family of the man whose DNA had been sitting in police evidence since 1979.
The challenge was to find him. Investigators gradually narrowed the possibilities through further genealogical research and police inquiries. Then after a year of tracing relationships, one name emerged, Terrence John Fisher, but a genealogical lead was not enough. Police still had to prove that the man identified through the family tree was actually the source of the DNA recovered from Karen’s murder investigation.
So investigators obtained a direct DNA sample from Fisher. The result was decisive. The sample matched the DNA profile recovered from the old crime scene evidence. The unknown male profile finally had a name, Terrence John Fisher. After 45 years, investigators had identified the man whose DNA had been preserved in Karen Tate’s murder case.
But then came a devastating detail. Fisher was already dead. He had died from cancer in 2000 at the age of 50. The investigation had finally found the man, but it had found him 25 years too late to arrest him. There would be no interrogation, no courtroom confrontation, no trial, no opportunity for a jury to hear the evidence against him.
For Karen’s family, however, the breakthrough finally provided something they had been denied for most of their lives, a name. But the discovery raised another question, who exactly was Terrence John Fisher? What kind of life had he lived and how could his DNA have ended up on evidence from Karen Tate’s murder scene? To answer those questions, investigators had to look beyond the DNA.
They had to reconstruct the life of the man who had remained unidentified for 45 years. And that would take them into Fisher’s past, his work, his movements, his relationships, and the places he had lived. Some of those details would become increasingly important as investigators tried to understand how his life might have intersected with Karen’s final journey.
So they began reconstructing Fisher’s life and what emerged was not the profile of a man who had spent his life moving in and out of police custody. Fisher had served in the Australian Army, spending much of his service between 1970 and 1972 in Townsville, Queensland. He later built a working life in Western Australia as a carpenter.
He worked for the Public Works Department, where his employment took him to government construction and maintenance sites across metropolitan Perth and regional parts of the state. He also operated his own business. Outside work, Fisher had another passion. He was an avid sailor who participated in competitive and regularly spent time at the Fremantle Sailing Club.
To the people who knew him, these were ordinary parts of his life. Soldier, tradesman, businessman, and sailor. And there was another detail that made the later DNA discovery even more striking. Before investigators identified Fisher through genetic genealogy, he had no known history of serious offending. His recorded dealings with Western Australia Police were reportedly limited to minor traffic infringements.
Nothing had placed him on investigators’ radar as a suspect in Karen Taites’ murder. And by the time his DNA finally connected him to the case, Fisher had been dead for 25 years. The man investigators had spent decades trying to identify was therefore no longer alive to answer questions about Karen or about what his DNA was doing on evidence from her murder scene.
But identifying Fisher created another line of investigation. Where had he been in the years surrounding Karen’s murder? At the time Karen was killed in December 1979, Fisher lived in the Rivervale and Manning areas of Perth. His work routines and movements could now be examined retrospectively. His employment had taken him to different work sites, including locations outside metropolitan Perth.
He had traveled for work and was familiar with roads and rural areas beyond the city. And Karagullen was no longer simply a remote location on a map. It was where Karen’s body had been found. That geographical connection did not prove Fisher had been there when Karen disappeared, but it gave investigators another question to pursue.
Could his movements have brought him into the area around the time Karen was killed? There was also a property in Manning that had a connection to Fisher. He had lived at a home on Henning Crescent, a property connected to him from childhood, and he returned to live there in 1979. Karen Tate was not the only woman whose remains had been found in bushland in the wider area.
Another woman had been found remarkably close to the location where Karen’s body was discovered. And another had been found several kilometers away. Now, the investigation had a new and unsettling question. Was Karen’s murder an isolated crime, or could there be a connection to two other women? The similarities between Karen Tate’s murder and the deaths of two other women were difficult for investigators to ignore, but similarities are not proof.
So, police had to separate what they could establish from what they were still trying to determine. Seven years after Karen was murdered, the remains of another woman were discovered in the same broader area. Her name was Barbara Anne Weston. In 1986, Weston’s remains were found approximately 300 m from the location where Karen’s body had been discovered.
Then, in 1991, another woman, Kerry Suzanne Turner, was found dead approximately 7.5 km away. Three women, three separate investigations, and three sets of remains discovered in relatively secluded bushland within the same broader region, but the similarities went beyond geography. According to Western Australia police, all three women had been out socially before their deaths.
All three had been drinking, and all three had either been hitchhiking or seeking lifts. That detail was particularly significant in Karen’s case. She had left Mount Lawley without a vehicle and was relying on the same kind of transportation she had used before, but investigators were careful not to mistake a pattern for proof.
There was no verdict establishing that Terrence John Fisher killed Barbara Weston. There was no verdict establishing that he killed Kerry Turner. In those two investigations, police described Fisher as a person of interest, saying they believed he may have been able to assist with their inquiries if he were still alive.
That distinction mattered. Fisher’s DNA had provided a direct evidentiary connection to the crime scene evidence in Karen Tate’s murder. The other two cases did not have that same connection, and Fisher had been dead since 2000. Whatever he might have known about Karen, Barbara, or Kerry could no longer be tested through an interview.
There would be no interrogation, no opportunity to challenge his account, no chance to ask where he had been when the women disappeared. Investigators therefore had to reconstruct his life from the evidence he had left behind, his movements, his work, his relationships, his routines, and the places he had lived and traveled.
The question was no longer simply whether these three cases look similar, it was whether there was evidence connecting them, and that question gave investigators another reason to examine Fisher’s past. Because if the man whose DNA had survived Karen Tate’s murder had left anything else behind, detectives needed to find it.
One place in particular drew their attention, a house in Manning, a property on Henning Crescent where Fisher had lived. If Fisher had taken answers to the grave, investigators wanted to know whether anything remained at the place he had once called home. And in March 2025, police returned there. They brought forensic personnel to the property.
A forensic tent was established at the site as investigators worked through the property. Then their attention turned to the backyard. Excavation equipment, including a small Bobcat, was brought in and sections of the ground were dug up. The decision to excavate was significant. For decades, the investigation had been confined largely to old records, witness accounts, and evidence preserved from the original crime scene.
Now police were physically searching a property connected to the man whose DNA had been linked to Karen Tate’s murder. But exactly what investigators were looking for and what they ultimately found was not publicly disclosed. Police confirmed that potential items of interest were seized and would undergo forensic examination.
Beyond that, the details remained unknown. There was no official confirmation that Karen’s belongings had been recovered. No announcement that the murder weapon had been found. No confirmation that human remains had been discovered. And no public statement confirming that the search had uncovered trophies or other objects connecting Fisher to Karen, Barbara Weston, or Carrie Turner.
An excavation can produce evidence, but until investigators establish what an object is, when it was placed there, and what it has to do with the crime, its significance remains uncertain. So, the Manning search did not provide a neat answer. Instead, it created another unanswered question. What, if anything, had Terrence Fisher left behind? And there was an even bigger question hanging over the investigation.
For Karen’s family, the wait had lasted 45 years. Her siblings had grown older while one question remained unanswered. Who killed Karen Tate? Her daughter grew up without her mother. And Karen’s mother died without ever knowing who was responsible for her daughter’s death. Then, in 2025, investigators finally gave the family a name, Terrence John Fisher.
But, the answer came with a painful complication. Fisher had been dead since 2000. There would be no arrest, no interrogation, no courtroom. No opportunity for Karen’s family to sit across from the man investigators had identified and ask him what happened during those missing hours in December 1979. And there would be no jury to determine whether he was guilty.
For the family, that meant the moment they had imagined for decades could never happen. But, the discovery still changed something fundamental. For 45 years, Karen’s family had been left with an unidentified killer. Now, there was a name attached to the evidence. Ann Marie Tate described the development as something that did not provide complete closure.
And perhaps that is because the DNA could identify a man, but it could not tell the family everything they wanted to know. What happened after Karen left Mount Lawley? How did she encounter Fisher? Did he offer her a lift? Did she willingly get into a vehicle believing she was simply accepting a ride toward Karagullen? What happened during those missing hours? Why was Karen taken into the bush? And what exactly happened before her life came to an end? Those questions remain unanswered.
Investigators know Karen suffered severe blunt force trauma. They know a blood stained piece of wood was identified as the weapon. They know her body was placed over a smoldering tree stump and that the fire caused severe thermal damage, but the precise sequence of events that led to her death has never been established. The fire raises another question as well.
Was it specifically intended to destroy evidence? The circumstances are consistent with an attempt to damage or destroy evidence, but there is no statement from Fisher explaining what he intended, and because he died in 2000, there never will be. Then there are the deaths of Barbara Weston and Kerry Turner. Their cases remain separate investigations.
The similarities between the three cases are significant enough that police identified Fisher as a person of interest in both deaths, but that is where the evidence must stop. There has been no conviction linking Fisher to either woman’s death. Police have not publicly established that he killed them.
And investigators have deliberately avoided simply labeling him a serial killer. So even after identifying Fisher, important questions remain. What, if anything, connects him to Barbara Weston and Kerry Turner? What was he doing during the period surrounding their deaths? And is there evidence that has yet to reveal what investigators still cannot see? Those questions may never have definitive answers because the man who might have known them is gone.
After 45 years, investigators finally had an answer. It may not be the same thing as a conviction. It may not be complete justice, but Karen Tait is no longer simply an unidentified victim of an unsolved murder. Her Her is known. Her story is known, and after 45 years, the evidence finally spoke for her.