He wanted the money. He wanted none of that oversight.
In Christchurch, a man who quietly built New Zealand's largest illegal lottery — disguising it as something ordinary, accumulating millions before the law arrived — now waits for judgment. The case is not merely about one operator's greed, but about the moment a society decides how seriously it will guard the boundaries it has drawn around chance and fairness. When the rules exist to protect the vulnerable and someone dismantles them for profit, the reckoning that follows becomes a message to everyone watching.
- Waiariki McIlroy-Jones generated $11 million in just over a year by running an unlicensed online lottery disguised as a legal sales promotion scheme — a deception that held until it didn't.
- The scale shocked regulators: this was not a fringe operation but industrial-level illegal gambling reaching participants across the entire country.
- He initially denied any wrongdoing, but eventually pleaded guilty to two charges under the Gambling Act 2003 — conducting illegal gambling and profiting from it.
- Police secured a High Court restraining order freezing $4 million in assets, with full forfeiture proceedings underway under criminal proceeds law.
- Regulators are treating this first-ever prosecution of an online illegal lottery as a deliberate public warning — anyone running a similar scheme, at any scale, should expect to be investigated.
- Sentencing is reserved until June 24, where the outcome will establish how firmly New Zealand courts are prepared to punish online gambling fraud.
Waiariki McIlroy-Jones spent just over a year building New Zealand's largest illegal lottery, pulling in $11 million through a company he owned and directed called Jonez LRC Ltd. When authorities first confronted him, he denied wrongdoing — a position he eventually abandoned, entering guilty pleas on two counts under the Gambling Act 2003: conducting illegal gambling and profiting from it.
The scheme survived as long as it did through misdirection. McIlroy-Jones marketed the operation as a "sales promotion scheme," a legal category carrying far fewer restrictions than a lottery. Under New Zealand law, any gambling operation offering prizes above $5,000 must be run by a not-for-profit, serve a community benefit, and hold a class 3 licence. He bypassed all of it.
The Department of Internal Affairs, which led the investigation, described the operation as unprecedented in both scale and sophistication. Its director of gambling, Vicki Scott, called it a brazen attempt to circumvent protections designed to keep gambling fair — and made clear that anyone running an illegal lottery of any size should expect to be investigated.
Police moved to recover the proceeds, securing $4 million in assets through a High Court restraining order. The Commissioner of Police is pursuing full forfeiture under the Criminal Proceeds (Recovery) Act 2009, meaning McIlroy-Jones faces losing not only his freedom but the wealth he built.
The case is the first prosecution of an online illegal lottery in New Zealand, and regulators are using it as a deliberate signal that operating in the shadows carries real consequences. Judge Raoul Neave has reserved sentencing until June 24 — a decision that will set the tone for how the country's courts treat this category of fraud going forward.
Waiariki McIlroy-Jones built what would become New Zealand's largest illegal lottery in just over a year, pulling in $11 million before authorities caught up with him. Now, with guilty pleas entered and a sentencing date looming, the case stands as a watershed moment in how the country's gambling regulators are willing to pursue online operators who skirt the law.
The Christchurch man owned and directed Jonez LRC Ltd, the vehicle through which he ran the scheme. When first confronted, he denied wrongdoing. That position didn't hold. He eventually pleaded guilty on two counts: conducting illegal gambling and profiting from it, both violations of the Gambling Act 2003. The Department of Internal Affairs, which led the investigation, has described the operation as unprecedented in scale and sophistication.
What made the scheme work, at least temporarily, was misdirection. McIlroy-Jones marketed the lottery as a "sales promotion scheme"—a legal category that carries far fewer restrictions than an actual lottery. The distinction matters enormously under New Zealand law. Any gambling operation offering prizes above $5,000 must be run by a not-for-profit organization, must serve a community benefit, and must hold a class 3 gambling licence. These requirements exist to protect participants and ensure fair play. McIlroy-Jones wanted none of that oversight. He wanted the money.
Vicki Scott, the Department of Internal Affairs' director of gambling, was direct about what the operation represented. In her view, it was a brazen attempt to circumvent protections designed to keep gambling fair and responsible. The $11 million haul in fourteen months made clear this wasn't a small-time operation—it was industrial-scale illegal gambling, conducted online, reaching people across the country.
Police moved to freeze the proceeds. Through a High Court restraining order, they've secured $4 million in assets. That money, along with any other proceeds recovered, will be subject to forfeiture under the Criminal Proceeds (Recovery) Act 2009. The Commissioner of Police is pursuing the full recovery process, which means McIlroy-Jones stands to lose not just his freedom but the wealth he accumulated.
The case carries symbolic weight beyond McIlroy-Jones himself. This is the first prosecution of an online illegal lottery in New Zealand. Regulators are using it as a public statement: the era of operating in the shadows is over. Scott made the warning explicit, saying anyone running an illegal lottery of any scale should expect to become a target for investigation. The message is calibrated to deter others who might be tempted to follow the same path.
Judge Raoul Neave has reserved his sentencing decision until June 24. What that sentence will be remains unknown, but the facts are stark: $11 million in illegal revenue, the largest operation of its kind ever discovered in the country, and a defendant who initially lied about his involvement before accepting guilt. The sentencing will set a precedent for how seriously New Zealand courts treat online gambling fraud.
Notable Quotes
In a little over a year, this lottery generated over $11 million in revenue, making it the largest illegal lottery ever identified in New Zealand.— Vicki Scott, director of gambling at the Department of Internal Affairs
This successful prosecution should serve as a stark warning to anyone involved in running an illegal lottery of any scale that they can expect to find themselves the focus of our investigators.— Vicki Scott, Department of Internal Affairs
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter that this was marketed as a sales promotion scheme rather than a lottery?
Because the law treats them completely differently. A sales promotion scheme has almost no restrictions. A lottery with prizes over $5,000 has to be run by a not-for-profit, licensed, and audited. McIlroy-Jones was essentially using a legal loophole to avoid all that oversight and keep the money for himself.
So he was lying from the start?
Not just lying—he was denying it entirely when first confronted. He only pleaded guilty later. That suggests he knew exactly what he was doing and hoped he wouldn't get caught.
What does the $4 million in seized assets mean for him?
It means he's losing the money he made. The court has frozen it, and authorities are working to permanently take it away from him under criminal proceeds law. Even if he gets a light sentence, he won't keep the profits.
Is this a common problem in New Zealand?
Apparently not—at least not at this scale. This is the first prosecution of an online illegal lottery in the country. That's why regulators are making such a public example of it. They're signaling that the door just closed on this kind of operation.
What happens on June 24?
The judge announces how much prison time McIlroy-Jones will serve. That sentence will become the benchmark for how seriously courts treat online gambling fraud in New Zealand.