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Donovan Mileham did not have a lot of money but on Friday November 13 he checked into an upscale hotel in Sydney's CBD, where cheapest room is $500 per night and
By Monday morning he was dead. His body was discovered by a cleaner after his killers shot him in the leg and left him to die. He bled to death on the floor of the luxury two bedroom suite in the Fraser Suite apartments on Kent Street.
King Cross identities were among the last people to see him alive, the Sun-Herald has been told.
A spokesperson from NSW Police confirmed Strike Force Polock - an investigative unit lead by detectives from the State Homicide Squad - had been established to find Mr Mileham's killer.
The Sun Herald was told the hotel suite was booked under Mr Mileham's name but paid for by someone else.
"It was only booked in his name, he didn't pay for it or anything like that. There is no way Donovan could have afforded a $600 a night room," a source, who has knowledge of the incident but requested anonymity for protection, said.
The room was booked as a weekend escape for Mr Mileham, who lived in Sydney, and at least three of his friends, the Sun Herald was told. Drug paraphernalia was found by detectives inside the room.
CCTV footage captured Mr Mileham coming and going from the room with multiple people and on some occasions they entered his suite without him, suggesting they had direct swipe access to his room.
Mr Mileham and his friends had originally planned to check out on Sunday, but the room was extended for an additional night, the source said. The extended night was then cancelled on Sunday. The person who called to cancel the room asked hotel staff to check on Mr Mileham and to ensure no more expenses were charged to the room, the source said.
It is understood at least one of his friends re-entered the suite after he was killed.
Aged in his mid-40s, "Dono" as he was known to his friends, was an affable, generous-hearted guy who often found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, friends said.
Bronwyn Tyson, 36, first met him on Sydney's dance scene in the early 2000s and remained close friends with him.
"He was like a brother to me. He wouldn't hurt a fly. You'd let him mind your kids because he was a kid. You could leave money on the table and he wouldn't touch it. He just had the biggest heart," she said.
He had been a DJ on the fringes of Sydney's booming dance scene in the late 1990s, when the clubs thumped until sun up and bodies gyrated to endless electronica.
Back then his friends were party promoters who organised some of the biggest raves Sydney had seen and he occasionally scored gigs playing opening sets.
But two decades later, he had not managed to cleave himself from the rockstar lifestyle his friends had long since abandoned.
Described by one friend as a "Peter Pan kid who never grew up" Mr Mileham had been working as a delivery driver before he died, the same job he'd had in his twenties.
"Once upon a time we were dance party promoters and you can imagine the scene that goes with that, and he was pretty heavily involved with it," an old friend, who did not wished to be named, said.
"He only played a few of our parties. He used to come along and play the first set. He loved it so much we just wanted to give him a chance."
Bit by bit drugs consumed the dance scene, he said, and raves became solely about getting high whereas once creative, experimental music had been enough.
"We've all moved on to very corporate things since then and the reality is the scene that's probably got him is the very scene that we consciously moved away from."
"He was a big hearted person, a lovely bloke but very irresponsible."
The same sentiments were echoed by Dean Parrish who said his friend had been lost to "that world I used to live in."
"He was a good mate but didn't always make the right decisions in life. A few years back I would of been partying in that hotel with him. I can't even get my head around it," he posted on Facebook.
Five years ago, Holly-Beth Quinn, now 27, worked with him at an installation company in Alexandria in Sydney's inner east.
"He was really lovely. It's really sad. He was the kind of guy who was always in the wrong place at the wrong time and I could tell he'd had a hard life."
There were also signs of underlying drug problems, and he would often disappear for days at a time and "have benders constantly," she said.
As news of his murder circulated on social media, his friends reminisced about the heady party days when DJ Dono was on the decks.
"Thanks for the tunes. Such fun times. RIP Dono," on friend wrote.
"DJ Dono RIP brother. I don't know what went wrong brother but nothing can hurt you now," another friend posted.