1 Sunday ` proudly brought to you by Mazda. Tonight on Sunday ` cooking up a storm. Where are all the Kiwi workers? I, personally, would love if everyone in this restaurant is a Kiwi. An industry crying out for staff. They also need to face the fact that we don't have enough people to do the job. Cracking down on migrants. Our staff is like our family. It does shake me up. But we've got to be honest with these people. There is simply no way that everybody who wants to stay and gain residence in New Zealand can do so. I'd ask, is that the kind of society we want to create? He wanted to destroy me. She met him on the dating site Tinder. He looked just kind of like a normal guy. I definitely believe in love. Paul seemed to tick a lot of boxes, but... MELISSA DOYLE: This same man had a dark history of stalking and violence. I realised that I had to try to get away or die trying. Captions were made with the support of NZ On Air. Copyright Able 2017 Kia ora, I'm Miriama Kamo. Too many people, too much traffic, not enough houses. We need to control population growth and protect Kiwi jobs. So, better crack down on migrants. At least, that's what our major political parties seem to be saying. But could the proposals to change skilled worker visas cripple industries needing migrant labour? Tonight we talk to some in the hospitality industry who say they'll be particularly hard-hit, and, so too, might you. There is an uncertainty that you always walk with when you're an immigrant. Am I going to make a future for myself here? Am I going to have to find a future somewhere else? I decided to come to New Zealand at 17. I went to University of Auckland, and I was a very naive 17-year-old, (CHUCKLES) who was very lost in this big city, but I've fallen in love with it. MIRIAMA: And with Sid? And with Sid, (LAUGHS) cos I met him here, so I owe that to New Zealand as well. (LIVELY INDIAN MUSIC) It's been 15 years since Chand arrived from India. At 19 she met and then married renowned chef Sid Sahrawat. They now own two popular Auckland restaurants. This one, Cassia ` smart dining, Indian fare. So smart, that twice in three years, Cassia's been crowned Auckland's top restaurant. But it was in collecting the second award in April that Chand Sahrawat made an unplanned stand. Well, (CHUCKLES) that speech... I think it should be on my tombstone. I didn't expect the standing ovation. It was impromptu. It was totally spontaneous, and it came from the heart. Chand's speech reflects an industry in shock, reeling from the government's plans to change working visa conditions. So, how many of your staff members are at risk? Half. I would say 50%, yeah. Chand and Sid have 39 staff, mostly migrants. They come from all over the world ` Italy, France, Korea, Russia, Scotland, India, Brazil. The government's proposals will make it harder for many of them to stay beyond three years, potentially gutting their workforce. It's a very horrible feeling to have as a business owner, when you have to think about the survival of your business. Right now, we're thriving, but do we know with these changes if we will continue thriving? We're a country built on immigration, but with an election just months away, it's fast becoming a battleground for votes. The government is taking a 'Kiwis first' approach to jobs and making it tougher on skilled migrants. Labour wants to go even further, cutting immigration by tens of thousands, saying our infrastructure just can't cope. I understand the problems faced by Kiwis, which we face too. We found it very hard to buy a house. We struggle in traffic as well. Wibble-wobble! (GIRL GIGGLES) The irony is while infrastructure, clogged roads, public services and housing are in the red, the economy's in the black ` thanks largely to immigration. (COCKTAIL SHAKER RATTLES) Meet 30-year-old Joe Lai. He came here from Hong Kong 13 years ago; first on a student visa, and now on an essential skills visa. Is this home now? To me, it is. This is home. He wants to stay in New Zealand, and he ticks a lot of boxes. What is it about New Zealand that makes you want to stay? The people; definitely the people. 'He loves rugby,...' I cried when Richie retired, so does that mean I'm a Kiwi? I think it makes you pretty damn close! (LAUGHS) '...and he's mastered Kiwi modesty after winning Auckland's top bartender gong last year. Can I please not answer that question? (LAUGHS) It sounds so arrogant when you say that. 'But it's the boxes Joe doesn't tick that may see him ejected from New Zealand at any time. How would you feel if your visa was denied? I'd be devastated. Last year, the government raised the points system to qualify for residency. Joe has enough, but the proposed salary threshold is the problem. Migrants wanting residency will have to earn over $49,000 a year. I really want to get it, but with the law changes, it kind of makes it seem impossible, or most unlikely; let's just put it that way. What's more, migrants like Joe won't be able to keep renewing their visas to build up the points and salary they need for residency. If the rules change, they'll have to leave the country after three years. But could it be a potent cocktail for shaking up trouble? If you have guest worker programmes, where people are a fixed underclass, they don't become part of society. I'd ask, is that the kind of society we want to create? Dr Francis Collins, an Auckland University senior lecturer, says cutting pathways to residency isn't just bad for migrants, it's bad for New Zealand. If you set that maximum duration, you put people in a position where they don't have the same rights that other people in workplaces have. They can only work there for a certain period of time. They know that they won't be able to get residence, and as a result, they tend to focus only on work. And they tend to be much more dependant on their employers. Their employers are the only reason they're here. Increased inequality is what you see happening? Absolutely. Legislated inequality. What do you think's motivating these proposals? I think there is genuine concern about the number of permanent long-term arrivals. I think that's true. I also think it's an election year, and there seems to be a view right now in New Zealand, which reflects views more widely in the Western world, that immigration is a problem, and that we need to do something about it. Ultimately, Dr Collins believes migrants might decide not to come to New Zealand. In a sector like hospitality, that's a big problem. I understand that they want more locals to take those jobs, however, they also need to face the fact that we don't have enough people to do the job. Tourism is now our number one export earner, pumping almost $13 billion into the economy and employing one in every 13 workers in this country. Our bars and restaurants are crucial to that growth. But the sector will be hard-hit if these immigration proposals go through. Hospitality is heavily reliant on migrant labour. Raising the bar for skilled migrants, along with our low unemployment rate, will make finding staff harder. It's not that easy to find the exactly right person to slot into that position. Whether it be Kiwi or migrant, we struggle. So, how much concern or how much thought was put into the hospitality sector when putting these proposals together? Look, these weren't knee-jerk proposals. I've been working on these with officials for nearly two years. 'Immigration Minister, Michael Woodhouse.' Did you consider the fact that hospitality is far more reliant on migrant labour than any of the other industries you've mentioned? Well, I'm not sure that that's the case. I'd need to go and check the data on that, and I don't even think the hospitality industry has that data. Well, they do. It's 20%. Well, 20% is high, but, you know, there's a lot of reliance on overseas workers in the horticulture industry, and viticulture and` Not at 20%, though. Well, I'd have to go and have a look at the numbers. 6% across the general workforce. 20% for hospitality. Yep. It's gonna have a big impact, isn't it, these proposals? Well, they're gonna need to change their business model. That's absolutely true. But we've got to be honest with these people. There is simply no way that everybody who wants to stay and gain residence in New Zealand can do so. 'After the break ` so many jobs, not enough workers. Do Kiwis not want the work?' I, personally, would love if everyone in this restaurant is a Kiwi. 'Are these proposals gonna hit you in the pocket?' Absolutely, it's all kind of relative, isn't it? 'And does this restaurateur have the answer?' That will be your only solution, but it's not gonna fix it short-term. Zoya, can you come and check that you're happy with your lunchbox? MIRIAMA: Are you breeding two foodies? Yeah, that's our aim, for sure. (BOTH CHUCKLE) They're gonna take over the businesses, are they? Yeah. So, why do you run restaurants? I think it's a beautiful industry. It's so vibrant. You make people happy every day. To see them having a good night, or a good time, you can't put that into words, you know? You didn't know you wanted to be a chef early on, did you? No, not till I was 15. They might own two fancy Auckland City restaurants, but home is a modest North Shore brick and tile. So, on your day off, you're still cooking in the kitchen? Yeah, I cook every now and then. I don't cook every Sunday. So, we had a deal when we got together ` I will not cook on the two days off that he has. He can either cook, take me out or get takeaways. (CHUCKLES) It's chicken pie tonight for renowned chef Sid Sahrawat, wife, Chand, 18-month-old Roan and 6-year-old foodie, Zoya. Is New Zealand home? Will it always be home? Absolutely. Absolutely. You know what I love? When you come back to New Zealand, and the customs officer says, 'Welcome home.' (CHUCKLES) So, it makes you emotional, Chand? Yeah, it does. It does shake me up. Sorry, it makes me emotional. Why does it make you emotional? Because I think, sometimes, where you're born is not where you're meant to be. I was born in India. I love Indian culture. I love Indian food, but I feel like New Zealand was where I want to be, and where I'm meant to be. Table 12. Since arriving over 15 years ago and opening Sidart and sister-restaurant, Cassia, Chand and Sid have become citizens, but many of their workers aren't so safe. Our staff is like our family. They mean a lot to us. You build those relationships, and when you lose someone, or you see them go, it's natural. It's just human to feel the way we feel. Over a quarter of their staff are on Essential Skills visas. Under the proposals, they won't be able to renew. They'll have to leave in less than three years. To stay permanently, they need enough points and a salary of at least $49,000, but that's unlikely. So if you paid more, would that change the cost of food? Absolutely. It's all kind of relative, isn't it? So you, the customer, could pay the cost. The hospitality sector argues it's high cost, low profit, and paying all skilled staff $49,000 could cripple their businesses. Their industry association says $37,000 is fairer, but this suggestion doesn't sit well with the government. So, what you're talking about is these apparently highly skilled people, who are only a dollar or two above the minimum wage. I don't think that's what a skilled migrant category should be about. But the industry is saying ` we can't pay $49,000. 37 is a fairer place to pitch it. And they will still be able to get overseas labour at that remuneration level. Those people who come in, though, won't be able to stay here forever. And that's the rub for Chand and Sid. It's not the salary threshold so much as the three-year maximum stay. It is when you say that three years is all you have to make this person from zero to hero, (CHUCKLES) that's not long enough. It's already not easy, so I don't understand. Why make it harder? 'Take Ali, for example. He's the tandoor, or clay oven, chef. 'He's already decided to leave the country because of the proposals, but replacing him is fraught.' It's like finding a diamond in a coalmine. So, why can't you just train someone up? It takes time. It's years and years of training. Making a naan is, literally, 30 seconds, and that 30 seconds has to be very precise. 'An added burden? The paperwork.' Every time we have to hire someone who needs just a work permit, it takes me, personally, four to six hours to do the paperwork. It's not as easy as just saying, 'I prefer to hire this person over a Kiwi.' I, personally, would love if everyone in this restaurant is a Kiwi. So, wait ` why don't they do that? Avoid all the hassle that comes with migrant visas; do what the government's trying to engineer and hire locals? Well, many in the industry tell us, young Kiwis just don't want a career in hospo. How many of us say to our kids, 'You are going to be the best waiter. 'Go for it! I can see it in you.' We, unfortunately, don't give that much glamour to the service industry or being in hospitality. We see it as a pathway where you want to do a part-time job, so we don't see them progress. And that's where I see the shortage coming from of Kiwis that I'm talking about. Isn't the problem that Kiwis just don't want to do this work? Well, that hasn't been my experience. 'Judith Tabron, owner of iconic Auckland restaurant Soul, doesn't agree. 'She has around 90 staff members,...' What percentage of your staff would be Kiwis? Oh, maybe 70%. '...and little trouble, she says, filling positions. We get them through schools. We've participated in work choice days. Sometimes kids just walk in or parents contact us. So, other people may have that problem, but for us, we haven't had that problem at all. But you can understand someone running an ethnic restaurant having trouble finding Kiwis to be interested in, say, being a clay oven chef? We teach our kids to do all sorts of things, and I'm sure that they would like to do that as much as we teach them to open oysters, or we teach them to smoke fish, or we teach them to be pastry chefs, or... You know, cooking has a million different skill sets, and I think they're all interesting. The answer to the government's immigration proposals, says Judith Tabron, is to build a strong, local workforce. What I'd like to suggest is that it's an opportunity for hospitality businesses to, perhaps, look at on-job training and for them to take on apprentices. So you're not upset at the government's proposals? Well, I'd prefer the government didn't do this; don't get me wrong. This is not a good thing, and not at this short notice. This is going to be terrible for the industry, but I'd like to see us future-proof by getting onto workplace training. We love to train people and move them up, but sometimes it just isn't possible; that person isn't ready. It takes five years to reach being a sous chef, and if a sous chef leaves, I may not have the person ready enough to fill those shoes. So, what is your answer to the hospitality sector who say, 'We can't survive this'? What's the key to them surviving it? Well, I think they need to think very carefully about their business model, about their attraction strategies domestically, about the way in which they engage with that overseas workforce, and to plan for the departure of, some of them, between two and a half and three years after they get them. Our dining scene has become diverse ` the food we eat, the faces we see. Right now, we're benefiting from a rapidly growing industry, but can it last? Where I'm getting passionate is we need to think about them very carefully, cos a policy has immediate impact but also has longer-lasting impacts. And we're worried that` You know, we don't want that word to get out that, 'Oh, New Zealand's definitely not the place to be.' Well, the working visa changes come into effect in August, and while the government has consulted with the industry, the Minister told us they're unlikely to rework the policy. A wise decision? Head to our Facebook page to have your say. Next ` one woman's escape from a terrifying stalker. They met on Tinder. He was charming and handsome. But when she broke up with him, he became a monster. On the Wednesday, Lambert came here to the local Bunnings. He bought a hammer and a crowbar. He also armed himself with cable ties. He clearly had trouble on his mind. I just thought in my head, 'Oh my god. 'He's actually stabbing me. 'He's gonna actually kill me.' 1 Welcome back. Dr Angela Jay has been through hell. She's been face-to-face with a crazed stalker. It began innocently. Just like thousands of women, Angela went online ` on Tinder ` looking for a soulmate. And for a while there, she thought she'd found him ` tall, charming, great smile. But she was terribly wrong, and she was lucky to survive. Melissa Doyle reports. And a warning, this story deals with issues of domestic violence. MELISSA DOYLE: Angela Jay was a young, hardworking doctor delivering babies. She was based at Port Macquarie on the New South Wales mid north coast. You know, bringing new life into the world and, you know, passing a baby on to a new mum and her partner and seeing that look in their eyes... It's just beautiful. And I couldn't see myself doing anything else. (CHUCKLES) She grew up with her single mum, Susan,... She's... just, absolutely, a magnificent girl. I'm so proud of her. ...and her sister and best friend, Danielle. She's such a strong individual. She's incredibly caring. In her early 20s, Angela married Ben. Not long after, he joined the navy, but their busy lives soon pulled them apart. So, at 27, she began to look for a new man. Do you believe in love? I definitely believe in love. It's just that magical feeling that you get, and you just know that you have that deep connection with someone. And, like many young women, she tried the popular dating app Tinder. It just, basically, comes up with people in your area that fit the criteria that you've set. Basically, making a decision about the vibe that you get from that person based on a few photographs. Pretty soon, Angela found a potential match ` a 36-year-old insurance manager. Your first impression when you came across Paul Lambert on Tinder... What did you think? In his photos, he looked just kind of like a normal guy. You know, looked pretty handsome in a couple photos. So I was like, yeah, we'll have a chat and see where this goes. You said that when you matched, you were both after the same thing. What were you after? A serious relationship, basically. 'Soon, Paul Lambert was travelling from his home in Sydney to Port Macquarie to see Angela.' I think after our second date, it basically came up that we both had been married before, and that it didn't work out. We were ready to settle down again and, you know, just find that life partner. Paul had recently moved from Brisbane and, strangely, had changed his name from Paul Scales to Paul Lambert. But on his Facebook page he had plenty of friends, and he seemed to be a kind uncle, taking his nephews fishing. What was he like? He was funny, seemed very intelligent, seemed to be driven at work. Basically, he was ticking all the right boxes that you would look for in a potential partner. 'Before long, Angela was ready to introduce him to her family.' This tall, good-looking, very confident, well-presented man walked in with the most amazing bunch of flowers I've ever seen in my life. I actually messaged her and gave her the tick of approval, and I said, 'I'm so happy you've found Paul. He's great.' I just said to my husband, 'Oh my God, he's a breath of fresh air. He's such a nice man.' Call it male intuition, but Susan's husband, Bill, wasn't so sure. He shook his head within five minutes of meeting him. He said to me, 'There's something wrong with him.' And I said, 'You're very unkind saying something like that when you've just met somebody.' And he said, 'No, Susan. We're going to be picking up the pieces down the track with this. Mark my word.' At first, his intensity seemed sweet, but soon, it was all too much. Angela, feeling smothered, decided they had no future and attempted to break up. He was extremely upset. I kind of felt guilty. You know, have I led him on? I mean, it's an awful feeling hurting someone. But Paul just wouldn't accept it was over. He started threatening to kill himself, and telling me that he was going to jump in front of a truck. I think I started to feel worried about my safety as well. To keep the peace, Angela agreed he could come to her school reunion. In the end, I agreed, 'OK, you can come, 'but you just need to act very normal. I don't want you to make a scene.' I didn't want someone's life on my conscience. But at 1am, Angela's friends called her sister, Danielle, to come and collect her. She was just a mess. She was absolutely in tears. So, in the space of a 10-minute drive, I had heard that she's getting emotionally blackmailed; that he's gonna kill himself; that he's bashed his ex-wife; that he's not supposed to be in New South Wales, and he has a criminal record. Suddenly, it was clear. This was not just an intense man broken-hearted. It started to escalate. I received a message from a man named Dan, who was claiming to be his good friend, and that he had witnessed him try to kill himself ` that he had run out on to the street, and a truck had swerved and missed him. (SIGHS) Obviously, I was very confused, but I immediately felt very guilty. Angela had no idea that Dan was, in fact, Paul himself. Finally, a worried Danielle insisted they go to the police. I put in his name, Paul Lambert... Boom. Criminal history. He looked us dead-smack in the eyes, and goes, 'This guy is known to police very well, 'but he's more of a threat to himself, than to you.' Angela drove home four hours north to Port Macquarie, but Paul Lambert was not giving up. That Sunday, Lambert arrives by plane from Sydney without telling Angela. I said to her, 'Please give me a call when you get home, 'and make sure every single lock is locked on those doors, and every single window is secure.' Sunday afternoon, Lambert comes here to Angela's house, unannounced and carrying luggage. He has a loud argument with Angela, overheard by the neighbours. He was there, waiting for me at my doorstep. So, I gave him his things, and told him to leave my property, and that I never wanted to speak to him again, ever, and that I don't want him to contact me, and that I don't want him to come to my house or my workplace. I never want to see him again. Angela calls the police to tell them what's happened and asks for an Apprehended Violence Order. Lambert has left, but he's far from leaving her alone. He started sending me, basically, threatening text messages saying, 'You're not safe in your house. I have stolen some of your keys.' I was just sitting at my house afraid, not knowing what to do. He sent me another message saying, 'You need to go to your neighbour's house,' which terrified me. How do you take that? So I, of course, ran to my neighbour's house and knocked at their door and somehow tried to tell them, 'Look, um, there's a man that I recently dated 'who I think is thinking about hurting me.' On Monday, we now know Lambert checked into the Rotary Lodge for families and friends of patients. He pretended he had a sick friend in the mental ward. It's right across the road from where Angela was delivering babies. She's hoping Paul Lambert has left town but fears he won't give up. I considered telling my work colleagues what was going on. Maybe not in full, but at least enough to say, 'Hey, um, don't stress or anything, 'but if I don't show up to work, you should probably call the police.' I was so ashamed that I was in this situation at all. I just` I just felt like I couldn't tell anyone. Like, I'm a doctor; I'm going to be an obstetrician. I care for people. I don't need to be taken care of; I can take care of myself. I fix things. Like, I don't need help. But Angela's mum, Susan, is worried. Mum, basically, came straight up to Port Macquarie and stayed with me for a few days, and cooked me meals and took care of me. But Lambert started bombarding her with dozens of calls and text messages. (MALE VOICEOVER READS) I thought about going to work and sleeping in our on-call room. I thought about even showing up to emergency and faking to have appendicitis or something. On the Wednesday, Lambert came here, to the local Bunnings. He bought a hammer and a crowbar. He also armed himself with cable ties. He clearly had trouble on his mind. Next day, Angela's mum, Susan, has to head back to Sydney for work. My biggest regret is leaving and going back to work on the Thursday,... cos that's the day he struck. Here, at a local Caltex service station, he bought 5 litres of petrol in a jerry can. All the while, Lambert watches and waits. So unhinged, he talks about himself as another person. MALE VOICEOVER: For the last four days, he has stalked her. He has followed her. He has waited outside her house and waited outside her work. He has waited for the opportunity. ANGELA: I just felt really calm. I can't explain why. My cat, Armani, was still at my house, and mum had left some food at my house. It was daytime. I thought, 'Look, I'm just going to quickly duck home, quickly have some dinner, feed Armani and grab some clothes, and then I'll go to my cousin's house. Angela gets home from the hospital around 5. She has spaghetti for dinner and watches a bit of TV. She doesn't know that hiding in the walk-in-wardrobe of her bedroom is the man planning to rape and kill her. When we come back ` Paul Lambert launches his attack, and Angela fights back. I realised that I had to try to get away, or die trying, because I wasn't going to just sit and wait around to find out what he wanted to do me. 1 It's 6 o'clock at night. Dr Angela Jay heats up some of her mum's spaghetti. Down the hallway, Paul Lambert is hiding, silently, in her bedroom. Angela has her dinner in front of the TV, and then... I just needed to grab some clothes from my bedroom, which is at the very end of the house, so I started walking down that way, and, um,... as I was turning the corner to enter my bedroom, he jumped out at me. (INHALES DEEPLY) And I screamed, obviously, and he put his hand around my mouth so that I couldn't scream and looked me in the eye with a really intense look. He said, 'It's OK. I just wanna talk.' He got me when I was actually busting to use the loo, and I was trying to process what had just happened and buy some time, so I said, 'Look, I really need to use the toilet. Can I at least do that?' So he allowed me to, but had the door open and watched me. I was shaking uncontrollably and just trying to think what I could do. He then told me to sit on my bed. As Lambert interrogates Angela about who she's been staying with, and whether it was a man, somehow, she gathers her wits and her courage. I realised that I had to try to get away or die trying, because I wasn't going to just sit and wait around to find out what he wanted to do to me. So I just made a run for it. (SNIFFS) He, of course, caught me, (SNIFFS) and then I just suddenly saw this knife in his hands, and I didn't actually feel him stabbing me, but I could see the blood when I looked down, and I just thought in my head, 'Oh my God, he's actually stabbing me. 'He's going to actually kill me.' At that moment, neighbour, Steve, takes his dog outside to go to the toilet. And then we heard this almighty screaming, and then I knew there was something horribly wrong. Grabbed this steel bar that I've got in there for work and bolted down that driveway. I managed to stand up, but then he grabbed me again and then he raised a big rectangular can over my head, and started pouring petrol over my head. My eyes were burning, and it got in my mouth. It got in my ears, and I can't even explain the horror you feel when you know that somebody is trying to set you on fire. Ran down this driveway, and when I got to the top here, I could hear someone thundering down the hallway. It sounded like a herd of elephants. I think it made me a little bit slippery, so I somehow got out of his grasp, and just ran for the front door. I got about 15ft from the door, and the door opened, and Angela came running out. All I could smell was petrol. I just kept saying over and over again, 'I'm gonna bleed to death. I'm gonna bleed to death. 'Please call an ambulance. I'm gonna bleed to death.' I know I had my arm around her, and I dragged her up here, and we went straight up into our garage, which the garage door was up. Steve's daughter, Amy, and another neighbour, Brendan, both call 000. I put this over here, and Angela was laying right here with her face to me. She was very, very calm. She stayed very, very calm and collected and gave us a few instructions, I think. Amy ran inside and got some pillow slips and towels. Dad had a towel wrapped around her leg up here. There was a lot of blood. She lost a lot of blood. I washed her face, because it was burning, cos it was red. I was holding her hands and talking to her. And then the ambulance arrived, and... (SIGHS) I was just so happy to see them. (CHUCKLES) And I'm sure I was being a very difficult patient, because I just immediately started bossing them around. At the back of Angela's house, in his white, rented Corolla, Paul Lambert flees the horror he's inflicted. But, extraordinarily, he now begins to make a series of phone calls. As Angela is being rushed to hospital, Steve, who's in the ambulance with her, answers her phone. I said, 'Who is it?' And then he said, in the calmest, calmest, calmest voice, 'How is she?' And then I knew. I thought, 'Holy shit.' 'This is the bloody bloke who's done this.' Then Paul Lambert sends text messages to Angela's mum, Susan. What did he say? I tried to stop him. He was talking as though he was a third person. That he tried stopping him. In his car heading north out of Port Macquarie, Lambert is now on the phone talking with police. He talks about the attacker again as if it's someone else. MALE VOICEOVER: He was gonna pour petrol on her and kill her. Detective Senior Constable Shaun Durbridge tries to persuade Lambert to give himself up. I'm concerned about you. I don't want you shot. I don't want you hurt. No, mate. In his disturbed state, he's slipping in and out of talking about himself as another person. I saw the evil today. I watched it happen. I watched it in my own head, and I wasn't strong enough to stop it. Calmly, Lambert warns that police should guard Angela,... All right, you need to make sure that I can't turn up there. ...and her mother and sister, because his alter-ego might attack them. You need to get a police officer to her sister's and mum's, because I know they live on the central coast. Then, he asks how Angela is. Is she alive? She's alive. I just want to talk to her and tell her that... I'm so sorry about what happened to her, and I tried to stop it, you know? She's never gonna speak to me. Can I meet with you? Have a talk. Nah, mate. Nah. (PHONE LINE DISCONNECTS) Paul Lambert ends the phone call, but police have used his mobile signal to track where he is, now 150km north of Port Macquarie. Here, at the Archville Station Road overpass, highway police are ready. They fling spikes in front of Lambert's car, bringing him to a halt. As Lambert jumps from his car, he pulls a knife, threatening police. It's clear he won't surrender peacefully. After the break ` Paul Lambert's showdown with police unfolds while Angela fights for her life in hospital. Lambert emerges with a knife, threatening police. They try to taser him, but it fails. Lambert then runs 500m, brandishing his knife. 1 (TENSE MUSIC) Lambert emerges with a knife, threatening police. They try to taser him, but it fails. Lambert then runs 500m, brandishing his knife. (GUNFIRE) Two police officers shoot him down, firing many shots. Paul Lambert is dead. He was gone, and he couldn't hurt me any more or come back to get me one day. It was a huge, huge relief. And when we walked into the hospital, Angela said he'd been shot dead. And you just don't even know how to react with something like that. Almost a euphoric sense. Like, you know, I somehow got away, and he's gone. I don't have to worry. I'm well and truly safe. Safe, but badly wounded. Angela has 11 stab wounds to her body. Remarkably, within weeks, she was back at work, delivering babies. She's so strong ` physically and mentally. She was strong enough to fight off a six-foot-something, big man, and get away. And then strong to reassure her family, the night of almost being murdered, that it's going to be OK. My daughter doesn't have to worry about this monster any longer, because Paul Lambert is a monster. But, somehow, this monster had a charming side. Just months before, with football legend, Wally Lewis, he'd raised $50,000 for an old school friend. I had some State of Origin tickets to the stadium, and thought I'll just try and raffle them off. He ran a remarkable internet campaign to help buy an assistance dog for his friend's autistic daughter. Wow, I'm blown away. Absolutely blown away. Yet, this same man had a dark history of stalking and violence against a series of young, attractive women, as far back as 2003. MALE VOICEOVER: Yes, I am Paul. In 2015, he was deported from the United States after stalking a former girlfriend ` TV reporter, Ann Keil. A year later, he was charged with assaulting his then-wife, Samantha Inkpen. A Brisbane psychologist, who saw him 17 times, diagnosed him with borderline personality disorder and as suicidal. But he said he had ` May I ask you about your scars? Mm. Do you cover them up? No, I don't cover them up. They remind me what I've survived, and what I've been through. And I will carry them forever. I have no choice, so I've chosen to think of them positively, as much as possible. Angela's shocking experience has inspired her to join White Ribbon, the national campaign against domestic violence. Being out on the water, does that heal you? I think so. I think the sea and the ocean has a very powerful cleansing ability, and I think it kind of represents life in a way. There's some days that it's very rough and stormy, and then other days it's very peaceful and beautiful, and I can't help but feel really happy and at peace whenever I'm on the beach. Well, Angela still has tough days, but says she's more motivated than ever, and she doesn't blame online dating apps like Tinder for what happened. She says she was just unlucky. That's our show for tonight. Join us on Facebook and Twitter ` @SundayTVNZ.