‘A five-year nightmare’: The man who lost $400k then died by suspected suicide
Saturday, 20 June 2026
When David McDonald died the week before Christmas in 2021, he had $8 to his name. There was no food in his fridge and he was thousands of dollars behind on his bills.
His daughter Penny Hill found his body in the garage of his home in Gore. Death appeared self-inflicted. There was no suicide note, but on a nearby table was a pile of bank statements and a page in his own handwriting, listing all the money he was owed.
All up, it was more than $400,000.
The coroner is yet to rule on McDonald’s death, but his family believes he had befriended a woman he met at a cancer support group and agreed to loan her money. Several months later, all out of savings, denied a loan by his bank, indebted to friends and with a terminal diagnosis, he decided to take his own life.
In the years afterwards, a police investigation came to nothing and the bank declined compensation, saying it had no reason to suspect anything was amiss. Last month, a coroner indicated they will rule on the matter without holding an inquest. The family opposed this, arguing in their submission to the Coroner that McDonald’s death was incited by a “premeditated, sustained and opportunistic” behaviour.
So far, the only ones held accountable for anything are two of McDonald’s own daughters ‒ found by the Disputes Tribunal to be personally liable for the one debt of their father’s they have not paid back.
“It’s been a five-year f…… nightmare,” Hill said.
A brief encounter
In early 2021, David McDonald was in good spirits. Diagnosed with terminal lung cancer in 2019, he was given 18 months to live. That date had breezed by and his health was holding together. A non-smoker, he had unfettered access to the medications that kept him alive.
His diagnosis had come just months after his partner died of cancer. So, during 2019, he started attending two cancer support groups: one for bereaved families, and one for people who had the disease themselves.
His family isn’t sure which one led him to encounter Lisa Kathleen Jones. They suspect it was the former, as they later heard a story about a daughter with leukaemia, but whichever one it was, the meet likely happened in June or July 2021. That was when his approach to money changed completely.
David McDonald was a frugal guy. Never one to spend lavishly or forget that he paid for lunch last time. “You’d be lucky if you ever got a birthday present,” Hill said. “I’ve never met anyone so f…… tight.”
Bank statements support this. Between March and May 2021, McDonald spent about $3000 a month from his ANZ Freedom account. The money went on the same things in the same places with almost superhuman regularity: pub, supermarket, pharmacy, petrol, bills. He never withdrew more than $100 cash at a time, and never more than a few hundred dollars each month.
In June, things changed. Nearly $30,000 came out of his account, all of it either ATM withdrawals or direct payments to a person, identified in transactions by the initials ‘lkj’.
The quantums are startling: $15,000 in July; $130,000 in August. The money seemed to go out in waves ‒ nothing for a week, then a string of transfers over a day or two. Over August 16 and 17 alone, he paid ‘lkj’ more than $61,000. At the same time, money was piling into his Freedom account from investments and his Kiwisaver to cover it.
But it wasn’t enough. Over the same period, McDonald withdrew nearly $90,000 from his sister’s Westpac account ‒ she was in dementia care in Dunedin and he was her power of attorney. Then, in October, two friends lent him nearly $34,000. All of it he passed on.
By now, it appeared he was paying two different people. The withdrawals were split between two sets of initials, although family later told police that they found out from ANZ that three sets of initials were used and that one of the accounts belonged to Jones’ daughter, who has a different surname.
But at the time, they had no idea. Hill recalled a single mention of another person in her father’s life: something about borrowing a trailer to help a friend he had met in one of his cancer groups to move house. That was it. He never mentioned this friend again, and he certainly never said anything about money.
McDonald seems to have kept whatever relationship he had with Jones quiet. His friend, Bill Clearwater, met her only by chance.
“I just went to see him one day, and I must have caught them out,” he said. “I don’t know that he was going to let me in for a start, but he did. He kept it pretty secret.”
Clearwater said the only other time McDonald mentioned Jones was when he asked his friend for money to help her with a house deposit. “There was some story that, oh, they’d lose the deposit if they hadn’t paid this money by a certain time,” he said. “I thought that didn’t sound right. Then Dave asked me for some money and I declined. It didn’t make [sense].”
Instead, McDonald borrowed the money off two other sets of friends. Then, in early November, with just $110 in his Freedom account and $10,000 owing on his credit card, he walked into the Gore branch of the ANZ Bank looking for a loan. According to a later summary by the bank, he wanted $20,000 for a “long term friend he was helping out”.
That summary, seen by The Press, noted that the ANZ employee who met McDonald “noticed a series of withdrawals that had taken place over the past few months”.
“Our Personal Banker expressed her concerns about the withdrawal. Mr McDonald said his money had gone the (sic) ‘friend’ he referred to earlier and that she would be paying the funds back to him at some stage. Mr McDonald explained he wanted to help his friend who was going to repay him in full on the Friday ‒ the money was for a house deposit.”
McDonald was denied a loan. “A note was placed on his customer record notifying his lending was to be capped in the event he may approach another branch for a loan.” The employee also told the branch manager, who tried to call McDonald to follow up, but the number on file belonged to an old work colleague. “Attempts to contact Mr McDonald were unsuccessful.”
‘I have $20 in bank $15 in wallet’
In his last week alive, David McDonald seemed fine to his daughter. She saw him every day, either at his home, or on their farm outside Gore. The only odd thing she noticed was the day he came out to plough a paddock. “[His] phone was ringing constantly,” Hill said. “He’d wander off into the middle of the paddock and talk to someone quite secretly.”
His text messages to Jones from this time indicate that he’d just borrowed more money from one of the friends who’d already helped him: “Thats 29000 u now owe,” he messaged on December 10. “U have his acount no.”
Jones replied: “Thank you and [name redacted] so so so very much with all my heart thank you so so much !!!”
Over the next few days, things unravelled. This conversation is condensed:
December 11
McDonald: “Hi love where is money.”
Jones: “Good morning my sweet sweet love … I am in town organizing move!! Are you home… Money has not cleared yet maybe after 9am. I’m checking every half hour.”
DM: “Don’t worry moving get money first.”
DM: “Got money yet.”
LJ: “I have called bank 0800 number to see if there is any hold up…. They cant see any reason, so it may be taking a little longer because of the amounts.”
DM: “What u mean why hasn’t money turned up.”
LJ: “They haven’t said why, just that it shouldn’t be much longer.”
LJ: “Sorry stupid ph keeps sending instead of typing want lol.”
DM: “U fucking up my weekend again.”
December 12
“LJ: “Good morning my sweet sweet sexy lover. Message me.”
DM: “Im awake.”
DM: “I’m just home I have $20 in bank $15 in wallet. Where your money because I’m gone tuesday morning.”
DM: “The door is unlocked if you turn up.”
December 13
DM: “I’m over this sexy bullshit didn’t you turn up last night the usual things are serious here be here before 11 You last chance.”
DM: “Its now eleven o’clock I am not playing your game today.”
DM: “I wont be home til 4.”
DM: “What is happening tonight do you not know what you doing.”
DM: “Ru still coming.”
December 14
DM: “I awake.”
DM: “What help u want [for] god sake tell me if its money u know I got none no food either.”
DM: “Only time u intrest coming see me wanting money its alway the very last you won’t let me help you.”
December 15
DM: “Come on I’m coming look for U.”
DM: “Hi love what u doing can we meet today remember win in this together xxx.”
December 16
LJ: Is this u my love message me please.”
December 17
LJ: “Hey love its me calling u ok xx.”
LJ: “Are you home at 9pm my love xx.”
LJ: “Are u home now my love xx.”
LJ: “Need to know my love xx.”
LJ: “ Hey love its me can you message me plse are you home now xx.”
December 18
LJ: “Call or message this number plse I have lost my phone xx.”
David McDonald died in a suspected suicide on or about December 17, 2021. He was 74 years old.
‘What the f…?’
After her father died, Penny Hill went through his old flip phone and copied out every message she could find between him and Lisa Jones. The above exchange is taken from her notes. Her main thought was, “What the f…?”
“I think he had $8 left in his bank account. He had no food in his fridge, he hadn’t been paying his insurance, his rates. He had nothing.”
So, the family set about trying to get back something. Unsure who might still have access to accounts for their father or their aunt (who they estimated had lost about $100,000) they navigated bank bureaucracy, account authorisations and signing authorities to protect what money was left.
They reported what happened to the police, who, they say, told them they knew of Jones already, and opened an investigation. They complained to ANZ, concerned that no-one had noticed or done anything about the dramatic changes in their father’s banking activity until he walked into a branch and alerted them himself.
None of it came to anything. “We appreciate the transaction history on Mr McDonald’s account may be concerning to Mr McDonald’s family,” ANZ said in response. “From ANZ’s perspective, the review of our records shows the withdrawals from Mr McDonald’s account appear to have been made with his authority.” This was despite CCTV footage from their ATMs showing other people present when he withdrew money and several incorrect PIN attempts. “It appears Mr McDonald’s unique banking details became known to others…[these] should have been kept confidential.”
“ANZ does not agree to cover the value of the transactions in question.”
The family complained to the Banking Ombudsman. In its decision, in early 2023, the agency admonished ANZ for not doing more to contact McDonald after his failed loan application, but otherwise upheld the bank’s decision: “Banks have no general duty to protect customers from the consequences of their decisions.”
About the same time, the police investigation faltered. “We are not convinced the evidence we have available is enough to lay charges,” Detective Constable Anna Frisby wrote to the family. “We tried to seek a file review from our Crown Prosecution lawyers, but we were unable to achieve this. I am not giving up though and with my supervisors approval I will be forwarding the file to Police Legal Services.”
It’s not clear what else, if anything, the police did. Or who might have thought a prosecution was possible. The family say they were told Jones had not been interviewed and wouldn’t be unless she volunteered.
Police declined to comment further while the matter was with the coroner. ANZ, in a statement, told The Press it “[sympathised] with the family of Mr McDonald and their situation”, but offered no further comment.
Could anyone have intervened?
McDonald’s fate fell in a lamentable grey area where all the parties involved seemed to acknowledge that something had gone wrong, but not to the point that any of them could do anything about it.
Consumer NZ chief executive Jon Duffy said there was unfortunately little regulation that might protect someone from deciding “of their own volition” to loan a friend large sums of money. “I think most people would be a bit put out if the bank called up and said, ‘Hey, we’ve noticed, I don’t know, you’re sending money to a gambling website,’ or something like that. I think everyone would object to a bank making a moral judgment like that.”
The only outlier has been the Disputes Tribunal. After McDonald died, the beneficiaries of his estate (his three daughters) sold his last remaining asset ‒ his house in Gore ‒ and used some of the proceeds to settle his external debts. They reimbursed McDonald’s sister’s account and paid back what he borrowed from friends.
Except for one. McDonald had borrowed money twice from one of the parties ‒ two brothers, who were his cousins ‒ and the second time they paid the money directly into Jones’ account. This, the family argued, was not the estate’s debt to settle.
The tribunal disagreed. McDonald had offered his ute as security to his friends (though not in writing) before they agreed to the second loan. This meant the debt “just crosses the line in which the agreement became a binding contract”. The family appealed, unsuccessfully, and two of McDonald’s daughters who were trustees became personally liable for the money ‒ another $14,000.
Jones was not involved. Her name was mentioned throughout the initial tribunal order, and the referee thought her absence strange, but noted: “Neither party wished to join Ms Jones to the proceedings.”
Jones did not respond to requests for comment for this story. Email and social media messages went unanswered. Phone numbers were disconnected and a listed address was out of date. Her public record is limited: some minor historical convictions, tenancy tribunal hearings and two bankruptcies (the most recent was discharged in 2006).
McDonald’s daughters have not paid the money. They are appealing the finding, arguing their liability was based on “material evidential deficiencies and reliance on unverified assumptions”, particularly the lack of proof that Jones received the money.
They will not pay, unless they absolutely have to.
“She’s taken everything,” Hill said. “[And] we’re still expected to pay her debts.”
Where to get help
1737, Need to talk? Free call or text 1737 to talk to a trained counsellor.
Anxiety New Zealand 0800 ANXIETY (0800 269 4389)
Depression.org.nz 0800 111 757 or text 4202
Lifeline 0800 543 354
Rural Support Trust 0800 787 254
Samaritans 0800 726 666
Suicide Crisis Helpline 0508 828 865 (0508 TAUTOKO)