Background Briefing

Helen doesn't know her psychologist is devoted to the cult of Universal Medicine. So when she finally seeks help for her childhood trauma, she thinks she can trust this registered health professional. Soon, she's been referred to spiritual healers, sent to a masseuse for "esoteric breast massage" and put on the path to meeting cult leader Serge Benhayon.

When Serge Benhayon had a spiritual epiphany sitting on the toilet nearly 30 years ago, he says he became possessed with all the knowledge of the universe. With these secrets at his fingertips, Serge invented four "esoteric" healing therapies and began to train up followers devoted to his way of life. That’s how the cult of Universal Medicine was born.

Serge Benhayon has been leading a cult out of the Byron Bay hinterland — just south of the Queensland border — for more than a decade. He was found by a jury to be a charlatan who swindles cancer patients. Yet every time he comes under attack, his followers close ranks around him.

Before police raided Mark Dennis’s Sydney terrace, two tradies saw something inside that left them rattled. At the front door, a doormat told visitors to “come back with a warrant”. But it was what covered the interior walls that stayed with them for years.

As the founder of a famous Cambodian orphanage rubbed shoulders with Hollywood stars, like Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, a Sydney barrister was quietly becoming one of the charity's most powerful backers. To staff, Mark Dennis SC was “the big boss”. Few dared to question him. Even when he made them feel afraid.

He was a silk at Sydney's most prestigious criminal defence chambers. And the former chairman of a celebrated charity protecting vulnerable children, where some called him "godfather". But he went by the alias of "Dark Menace" — and was allegedly hiding a sinister double life. Within weeks of that becoming known, he was dead.

When police raided a terrace in Sydney's inner west, they found an iPad with a note: if this device connects to the internet, its contents will delete. That house belonged to one of Sydney's top criminal barristers. A driven man who moved through courtrooms and corridors of power with ease. But the man had dark secrets too. And so, when the truth about him surfaces, it sets off a reckoning that stretches from Sydney’s most prestigious criminal defence chambers to the neon-lit bars of Phnom Penh. alleged crimes were hidden for so long.

It would be a game changer if it happened. But the challenges facing a proposed proton cancer treatment centre in Sydney are stacking up. It begs the question: why are an unpaid volunteer and private developer stepping in to provide a life-saving cancer treatment that Australian families have been demanding for years?

The public plans for a half-a-billion-dollar Sydney development have proton therapy all over them. But they're not the only set. As Australian families continue to fly overseas to get the life-saving treatment their children need, new questions arise about whether it's going to be possible for Sue Bleasel to pull off her plan. And now, they're coming from people inside the bigger project. When an insider speaks out for the first time, it becomes clear Sue isn't being kept in the loop on all the developer's plans.

Sue Bleasel is running out of time. Her life's work has been to bring a life-saving proton therapy machine to Australia. But with construction about to start, big questions remain.

It's a plan so good that everyone wants to believe it. Bring a life-saving cancer machine to Australia so desperate families don't have to travel overseas for treatment. But the plan keeps failing. The latest idea is to build a half-billion-dollar health science precinct in the heart of Sydney to house Australia's first proton therapy machine. It's got some big names backing it, support from a federal politician, and the green light from state government and local council. So why, when reporters Julia Bergin and Loretta Florance take a closer look, is it so hard to get a clear answer about what's going on? Is it happening? And what will it take to bring this machine to Australia? This Bloody Machine is a three-part Background Briefing investigation that follows a trail of money, egos, secret plans and changing stories to find out if the proton therapy dream is too good to be true.

A missing child, the botched police investigation case, and the aunt who never stopped asking why — this is part two of Maddison Connaughton's long read investigation into the disappearance of schoolgirl Eloise Worledge.

Could new leads solve one of Australia’s most haunting cold cases, the disappearance of Eloise Worledge? This is part one of Maddison Connaughton's investigation, a collaboration with ABC Long Read.

You may have heard the strange story about the man who cheated death. Diagnosed with terminal lung cancer and given just months to live, he moved home to die in peace on the idyllic Greek island of Ikaria. But he didn't die. He lived for decades, and his miraculous recovery became one of the most shared stories of the Blue Zones movement, a prime example of the island's rare power to keep death at bay. There's just one problem. How much is actually known about this mysterious death-defying man?

You've heard there are these enchanted places around the world where people often live past 100, thanks to lifestyles the rest of us envy. They're called Blue Zones, and over two decades the idea has grown into a multimillion-dollar industry that sells you their secrets of longevity. But then an Australian scientist started digging into the data behind the legend, and decided something didn't add up.

It’s been billed “the Netflix of AI.” A little-known Australian startup running an online service, boasting more than 20 million users worldwide. It promises to bring your fantasies to life with realistic AI companions you design and control. What reporter Josh Robertson discovered was something more disturbing: characters that appear as young as 14 and 15 years old, presented for adult role-play, and a company unable to stop them appearing.

For a while, Tammy's death looks like a one-off. Then an email lands in Kirstie Wellauer's inbox that changes everything.

Tammy Shipley walked into a police station and asked to be locked up. She just wanted to be safe.

Tammy's under 24-hour surveillance. Her family can't reach her. Then she starts drinking water from a red cup — and nobody understands what they're watching until it's too late.

Tammy Shipley asked to be arrested so she could feel safe. After she was placed under 24-hour surveillance, something terrible took place. A new three-part series by Kirstie Wellauer and Joanna McCarthy investigates how it unfolded. A loving mother of five, Tammy could really make her kids laugh. But she'd started to believe she was in danger — that someone was out to get her. A couple of weeks before Christmas, she walked into a Sydney police station looking for protection. She asked to be arrested and just wanted to feel safe. She was put under 24-hour surveillance. Then, over the course of several hours, something terrible took place. Something no one noticed. Tammy's Story is a three-part investigation into how this could have happened.