How failures in David Tamihere’s case led to lasting pain, and called our justice system into question
Written by Mike White
April 3, 2026
This week’s quashing of David Tamihere’s convictions for murdering two Swedish tourists in 1989 has brought one of New Zealand’s most troubling cases back into the spotlight. But for some, as Mike White reports, the case’s tragic impacts never disappeared.
A final argument — and an unexpected return
On August 20 last year, Murray Gibson rose from his chair, tweaked his robes, and delivered the final arguments for his client in front of five Supreme Court judges.
That client was David Tamihere, who had been convicted 35 years previously of murdering Swedish tourists Heidi Paakkonen and Urban Höglin in the Coromandel.
Tamihere had always insisted he never met the couple. He admitted stealing their car and pawning some of their gear, but denied being their murderer.
For three days, Gibson and colleague James Carruthers argued that Tamihere had been the victim of an unfair trial and wrongful conviction.
As he concluded, Chief Justice Helen Winkelmann noted it was both the first time Gibson had appeared before the country’s highest court and, because he was retiring, the last.
“It’s appropriate that on behalf of the judiciary, I thank you for your service to the profession and to the law,” she said.
Gibson thanked Winkelmann and took his seat.
That was meant to be the final moment of Gibson’s career, which began when he was admitted to the bar 50 years ago and included helping prove David Dougherty’s innocence and his long-standing defence of Tamihere.
Despite still having time left on his practising certificate, Gibson was clear that his career was over.
But then the Supreme Court released its judgment.
In a stunning decision, Tamihere’s convictions were quashed and a retrial ordered. The court agreed that the use of a jailhouse informant at Tamihere’s 1990 trial had made it unfair, and that a radically different Crown theory of the case would need to be put before a jury.
Gibson had not even finished reading the decision when he realised what it meant.
Tamihere’s convictions had been overturned.
And Gibson’s retirement would have to wait.
If there was going to be another trial, he intended to be there in Tamihere’s corner.
Operation Stockholm
Around 17,000 kilometres away in Stockholm, Swedish journalist Love Lyssarides was preparing to catch an early flight when news broke that Tamihere’s convictions had been thrown out.
The foreign correspondent for Sweden’s public radio service had just returned from Beirut, where he had been covering Israeli attacks on Lebanon.
But the news from New Zealand was all he wanted to know.
In 2023, Lyssarides, his wife and their baby spent four months in New Zealand investigating the disappearance of their fellow Swedes, Höglin and Paakkonen.
He travelled throughout the country, retraced their journey and visited the location where police say Paakkonen was last seen.
His conclusion was that the Crown case against Tamihere was deeply flawed and simply did not make sense.
Lyssarides’ podcast about the case, The Swedes, became one of the most-listened-to podcasts in Sweden, with hundreds of thousands of downloads.
When Paakkonen, 21, and Höglin, 23, vanished, they were doing what many young Swedes did at the time: travelling the world.
“Swedish people are just like Kiwis. We come from a small country, and when you graduate from high school, everyone’s dream is to travel the world and explore things.”
He said the disappearance became embedded in Sweden’s collective consciousness.
“Everyone realised, this could have been your daughter, this could have been your son.”
The case, often referred to as “The Backpacker Murders”, remains well remembered in Sweden.
There is also a lingering frustration: if Tamihere was not responsible, then the people who killed the two Swedish tourists may never have been held accountable.
“Someone did it, and someone hasn’t been convicted for it, and that’s a failure.”
Lyssarides believes that many of the problems began with the original investigation.
“There are so many things that just don’t add up.”
He retraced the steps of Paakkonen and Höglin, followed the same leads and investigated the work of Detective Inspector John Hughes, the controversial head of Operation Stockholm.
Looking back through files and documents from the 1990s, Lyssarides said he often wished he could go back in time and stop investigators from making mistakes.
Bearing the burden
Two hundred kilometres north of Stockholm, Håkan Bokull still carries memories of New Zealand and the case that has followed him for 35 years.
On April 10, 1989, Bokull and a friend arrived in Thames and checked into the Sunkist Lodge backpackers.
They were looking for transport around the Coromandel when they met a man at the pool table.
“And then we found David, at the pool table. And he was so talkative. We played pool, and he was such good fun.”
The man was David Tamihere, although Bokull knew him as “Pat”.
Tamihere had checked into the backpackers under the pseudonym Pat Kelly. At the time, he had been on the run from police over other charges and had largely been living in the Coromandel bush.
He had arrived in Thames in Paakkonen and Höglin’s stolen white Subaru.
Tamihere later told police that he had found the car parked near the Tararu Track, broken into it and stolen the vehicle along with some of the couple’s belongings.
The following day, Tamihere took Bokull and two other backpackers on a trip around the Coromandel, including Hot Water Beach.
“He took us places and showed us places and told us stories about everything we saw.”
Bokull eventually continued his travels.
Later, while in the United States, he learned that two Swedish tourists had disappeared in New Zealand.
When he returned home to Sweden, he recognised the white Subaru in newspaper coverage.
“So I called the cops in Sweden, and said, ‘I know this guy’. I said, ‘I’ve been riding in this car’.”
New Zealand police contacted him within 24 hours.
Bokull eventually travelled back to New Zealand to testify at Tamihere’s trial.
At the time, he trusted the police and believed what they told him about the case.
But with hindsight, he now believes investigators wanted a quick resolution.
“I think at the time, they just wanted a short closure — close the case, do it.”
A burden that never disappeared
During the trial, Bokull met the families of Paakkonen and Höglin.
“And I saw the grief in their eyes, and I just wanted to do the right thing.”
But when he returned to Sweden, he found he could not simply move on.
“Where is Heidi? Where is Urban? I wasn’t there with them, but I bear the grief with the mothers and sisters.”
The sadness has stayed with him for decades.
“I made a trip, and I got home. They didn’t. And I was so close, and that disturbs me.”
Bokull says he has nothing against Tamihere.
“On the occasions I met him, he was not a murderer. He was a nice guy.”
What he wants most is an answer.
Where is Heidi?
And how can those affected by the case finally find peace?
The man who started it all
Justice campaigner Mike Kalaugher was recovering from eye surgery when news of the Supreme Court’s decision broke.
He still managed to read the stories and celebrate.
In 2016, Kalaugher and prison lawyer Arthur Taylor brought a private prosecution against Conchie Harris, one of three jailhouse informants used by police to strengthen their case against Tamihere.
Harris had claimed that Tamihere confessed to murdering the Swedish tourists while they were in prison together.
His evidence was crucial because it supported another contentious eyewitness identification involving Tamihere and a woman who resembled Paakkonen.
But Harris later recanted his testimony, then recanted the recantation. He had also written to Tamihere apologising for lying at the trial.
Harris was eventually convicted of eight counts of perjury and sentenced to eight years in prison.
That conviction undermined a fundamental part of the Crown’s case against Tamihere and helped pave the way for his convictions to be overturned years later.
“I’m pleased that I did it, that’s for sure,” Kalaugher said.
Kalaugher has investigated numerous controversial cases and says the latest decision has given him renewed motivation to continue challenging possible wrongful convictions.
“There’s still a god, I’ve realised.”
‘Get it right’
Lyssarides believes the murders of his compatriots can still be solved.
And, he says, they must be.
While Höglin’s remains were found in 1991, Paakkonen has never been found.
That makes the need for answers even more urgent.
“It’s such an open wound. Losing a child like that, you can’t even imagine the pain.”
After decades of uncertainty, Lyssarides says there are still too many unanswered questions.
“We still haven’t found her body. We still don’t really know what happened. This is such a tragic story.”
He believes investigators cannot leave any possibility unexplored.
“They really have to get to the bottom of this.”
For Lyssarides, the case is about more than David Tamihere.
It is about two young people who lost their lives far from home, the families who have lived with uncertainty for decades, and everyone whose lives were changed by what happened.
“If it has to take 30 more years, I think they should keep working on it, because they owe it to the families, to everyone involved, to get this right.”
Mike White
Senior writer and columnist specialising in feature writing, including criminal justice investigations.
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