Tag Archives: Vancouver

ROBERT “WILLY” PICKTON — THE PIG-FARMING SERIAL KILLER

From the early 1990s until his arrest in 2002, Robert William Pickton (aka Willy) murdered—to his admission—49 women who he lured from the notorious Downtown East Side of Vancouver, British Columbia, to his pig farm in suburban Port Coquitlam. Willy Pickton’s modus operandi (MO) was to handcuff and rape the women, then shoot or strangle them to death. To dispose of the bodies, he’d butcher them in the same slaughterhouse or abattoir he processed his hogs in, then he fed the severed remains to his live pigs.

The Pickton Case, as it’s well known in Canada, wasn’t just about criminal sensationalism—something as grotesque as feeding human being parts to hungry animals. It’s a sad story of wasted human lives and a misguided mess made by human investigators. Fortunately, some good came from the Pickton Case and the parallel BC Missing Women Investigation / Missing Women Commission of Inquiry. That was better communicative cooperation between police jurisdictions and more efficient file management in missing persons cases.

Before looking at the Pickton Case outcome, let’s review who Willy Pickton was, how he managed to remain criminally active so long, and how he came to now serving the rest of his life in a maximum-security penitentiary.

Robert William Pickton was born on October 24, 1949. He’s now 72. His parents owned the Port Coquitlam pig farm and raised Willy on it, along with his brother, David, and his sister, Linda. Willy Pickton was a reserved boy who dropped out of school at fourteen and remained working the farm after his abusive parents passed on.

Court records show him to be of average intelligence but with a psychological perversion shaped by “Mommy issues”. He was very attached to his mother, regardless of her neglect of him. One notable point in young Pickton’s life was a recorded incident where, as a teen, Willy Pickton bought a calf with his own money and became very enthralled with it.

One day, he returned home to find the calf missing. He asked his mother where the calf was. She told him to go look in the slaughterhouse. He did.

There was his dead, bled, gutted, and skinned pet hanging from a meat hook.

Besides operating a pork processing plant on the farm, Willy and David Pickton ran a side business called “Piggy’s Palace”. They’d registered it as a tax-free, not-for-profit service club that leased the property to community events. Under the surface, it was a free-for-all, illegal booze-can that catered to wild parties filled with underworld characters.

Piggy’s Palace was part of the allure for the Downtown East Side of Vancouver subculture. This drug and disease-infested, civic fester was riddled with addicts and unstables who congregated in a bubble of immediacy and anonymity. These people lived for the moment, not for the day, and were perfect targets for the pig-farming predator.

Pickton would prowl the place—generally boundaried through East Hastings with Powell Street on the north and East Pender on the south. This is right in the heart of Vancouver’s industrial waterfront. It’s only a stone’s throw from the business hub of Downtown Vancouver proper and the uber-wealth of the West End.

Willy Pickton didn’t stand out in the Downtown East Side. He fit right in. At least 49 women thought so as they accepted a ride in his beater truck back to the farm with promises of drugs and cash and fun and an escape from the streets. A permanent escape, as it happened.

A pattern developed in the Downtown East Side. A disproportionate number of women were reported missing. They were all in similar demographics—vulnerable women who lived at-risk due to many societal issues—drug and alcohol addictions, mental illness, homelessness, victims of domestic violence, poverty, poor health, lack of education and skills, unemployable as well as being sex workers and common criminals.

The Downtown East Side law enforcement jurisdiction is owned by the Vancouver Police Department. The VPD noticed their increase in missing women reports and cautiously dealt with the matter by appointing one officer as a missing persons coordinator. Here’s where internal and external politics favored Willy Pickton.

No one in power wanted to say the “SK-Word”—Serial Killer. This would have let an uncorkable genie out of the bottle, and no one in power wanted the workload, budget drain, and social stigma/media pressure of having a serial killer running amuck in the streets of Vancouver.

So, what do good cops do in the face of bad stuff? Downplay it. Better yet, pass it off to another jurisdiction like the Coquitlam Detachment of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police—the RCMP or the Mounties.

Canadian policing structure in BC’s Lower Mainland region is rather convoluted, and this led to why Willy Pickton was hard to identify. Even harder to catch. Especially when competing jurisdictions weren’t playing for the same team.

The RCMP is Canada’s national police force They’re much like the United States FBI where they have federal responsibilities unless called or contracted by state / provincial / municipal (Muni) / civic authorities for help. Vancouver Police Department is its own LE agency, much like NYPD is or how Seattle PD operates independently of the multi-level support services like the DEA, BATF, CIA, ICE, DHLS, and a host of others.

British Columbia’s Greater Vancouver Area (GVA or the Lower Mainland) is a hodgepodge concoction of Mountie and Muni jurisdictions. The Munis have Vancouver, West Vancouver, Delta, Abbotsford, New Westminster, and Port Moody. The Mounties have Burnaby, Surrey, Richmond, North Vancouver, Coquitlam, Langley, Maple Ridge, and Mission. Not to mention Vancouver International Airport (YVR, which is a city of its own) and another sub-city, the University of British Columbia.

Greater Vancouver’s policing is a complex and wide-spread overlay. Vancouver’s Lower Mainland—the Fraser River Valley—population is over 3 million contained in 14,000 square miles for an average density of 214 people per square mile (PSM). That wildly ranges from 25,000 people PSM in Vancouver’s West End to practically zero on the watershed’s mountainsides.

British Columbia’s Lower Mainland has 6 municipal departments and 10 RCMP detachments. In 2002, the Munis and the Mounties had no common communication channel. Independently, they did their own thing.

The cities of Vancouver and Coquitlam-Port Coquitlam are close, distance wise. They’re 16 miles apart, as the crow flies, but Port Coquitlam is about an hour’s easterly drive in Vancouver traffic terms. Women were disappearing in Vancouver, but no bodies were being found. Vancouver women were dying in Port Coquitlam (PoCo), and their bodies weren’t being found either.

The missing persons coordinator at VPD was vigilant in her work. She knew what was going on in the Downtown East Side. But she had no idea what was going down in PoCo. Her list—a computerized spreadsheet of missing person names, dates of disappearances, and personal items associated with each woman—was detailed and available to any LE officer with access to the Canadian Police Information Center (CPIC).

The break came on February 5, 2002, when the RCMP in PoCo got informant information that something crazy was going on at the Pickton pig farm. They executed a search warrant and found items linked to several missing women the VPD coordinator listed on CPIC.

They also found human body parts including detached heads and limbs in Pickton’s freezer. In other places were severed dried skulls. They’d been Saw-zalled in half with mummified hands and feet bound inside.

The Pickton Case became a forensic first. The CSI team spent months processing dried and fresh pig manure looking for microscopic DNA profiles of Pickton’s victims. These women were:

Sereena Abotsway
Mona Lee Wilson
Andrea Joesbury
Brenda Ann Wolfe
Marnie Lee Frey
Georgina Faith Papin
Jacqueline Michelle McDonell
Dianne Rosemary Rock
Heather Kathleen Bottenly
Jennifer Lynn Furminnger
Helen May Hallmark
Patricia Rose Johnson
Heather Choinook
Tanya Holyk
Sherry Irving
Inga Monique Hall
Tiffany Drew
Sarah de Vries
Cynthia Feliks
Angela Rebecca Jardine
Diana Melnick
Debra Lynne Jones
Wendy Crawford
Kerry Koski
Andrea Fay Borthaven
Cara Louise Ellis
Mary Ann Clark
Yvonne Marie Boen
Dawn Teresa Crey

These 29 women are known Pickton victims identified through DNA. There are 13 other human female DNA profiles recovered—mired in pig shit—that haven’t been profiled to once-living women. That’s a victim count of 42. It’s 7 less than Willy Pickton confessed to killing and feeding to his pigs.

—–—

Hindsight is usually in focus. It’s been 20 years since the Pickton investigation. Learning is not just about what went wrong and improving. It’s about changing systems like communication between the Mounties and the Munis.

I was retired by the time the Pickton Case exploded. But I was a Mountie product who worked with first-rate Munis in serious crime investigations, and I have to say a murder cop is a murder cop—no matter what badge you’re wearing. We all wanted the same thing. Solve a case through admissible evidence. Bring closure to the families. And work the best we could through systematic differences.

No one in the Pickton Case investigation deliberately derailed the train. Far from it. The VPD missing persons coordinator saw the SK-Word pattern and reported it upline. Upline responded with, “Where are the bodies?” The coordinator said, “I don’t know. I just know this isn’t right and more women are going to disappear unless we dig into this.” Upline came back with, “Okay. Keep an eye, but don’t say anything to the media. We don’t need the SK-shit.”

———

Pickton was charged with a total of 27 counts of first-degree murder. First degree, in Canada, requires the prosecution prove Pickton acted in a planned and deliberate manner on each count. If the planning point isn’t proven, but the intentional killings are still established, then the charges fall to second-degree which allows the convict an earlier parole eligibility to a mandatory life sentence, regardless of first or second.

The trial judge severed the charges into two groups. Group A were 6 women whose evidence was materially stronger than the other 21 in Group B. The trial went ahead dealing with Group A. Group B was set aside pending the first trial’s outcome. (Note: The Group B trial never proceeded.)

A jury convicted Robert William Pickton of 6 counts of second-degree murder. How 12 jurors could think a pattern of murders was not planned but still deliberate, I can’t fathom. But whether first or second, planned or deliberate, or how many counts, is a mute legal point. Canada doesn’t have the death penalty, so Willy Pickton is going to spend the rest of his natural life in prison. There is no way this guy will ever get parole, although the law allows him to apply after 25 years of incarceration.

In the aftermath of conviction, the Pickton Case led to a lawyer-fest of appeals and inquiries. Some were cash grabs. Some were feel-goods. And some led to necessary improvements in legal and investigation procedures.

Interjurisdictional cooperation and communication were the big ones. It wasn’t just a Muni vs. Mountie thing. Munis weren’t talking to other Munis, and Mounties weren’t talking to other Mounties. In fact, the entire Vancouver Lower Mainland cop shops were acting alone. Automatously, you could say, and this was the result of years—decades—of independent police department growth in overlapping Lower Mainland communities.

Retired BC Supreme Court Justice Wallace Oppal headed the Missing Women’s Commission of Inquiry. Wally Oppal, or Stone Wally as he’s known by the police and the media, was the right man for this job. He was a highly experienced trial judge who went on to be the Attorney General of British Columbia. His 2012 report on the matter ran 1,448 pages and came back with 63 recommendations. The number 1 item, rightfully so, was amalgamating all Lower Mainland police jurisdictions—Mountie and Muni—into one regional police force.

Ten years later, this hasn’t happened. And it shows no sign of happening given the City of Surrey, the fastest growing Lower Mainland area, is forming its own police force and getting rid of the RCMP.

However, one major intercommunication and cooperation change did occur, and it was for the better. That was forming the Integrated Homicide Investigation Team (IHIT) that makes  secondments of select detectives from each department—Muni and Mountie—and has the team take over homicide cases throughout the Lower Mainland. Except for the Vancouver Police Department who still do their own thing.

The Pickton Case was a tragedy of mass proportions. It wasn’t just a fact of police failure to communicate or cooperate. It was a sad situation where a marginalized segment of vulnerable women were victimized by an unchecked demon. Here are some quotes from the Oppal report:

“The police investigation into the missing and murdered women were blatant failures.”

“The critical police failings were manifest in recurring patterns that went unchecked and uncorrected over many years.”

“The underlying causes of these failures were themselves complex and multi-faceted.”

“Those causes include discrimination, a lack of leadership, outdated police procedures and approaches, and a fragmented policing structure in the Greater Vancouver region.”

“While I condemn the police investigations, I also find society at large should bear some responsibility for the women’s tragic lives.”

“I have found that the missing and murdered women were forsaken twice. Once by society at large and again by the police.”

“This was a tragedy of epic proportions.”

Outside of the trial and commission of inquiry, the Vancouver Police Department did an extensive internal review. Honorably, they owned the problem and vowed to change procedures in missing persons cases. Deputy Chief Doug LePard, who headed the probe, had this to say at a public news conference:

 “I wish from the bottom of my heart that we would have caught him sooner. I wish that, the several agencies involved, that we could have done better in so many ways. I wish that all the mistakes that were made, we could undo. And I wish that more lives would have been saved. So, on my behalf and behalf of the Vancouver Police Department and all the men and women that worked on this investigation, I would say to the families how sorry we all are for your losses and sorry because we did not catch this monster sooner.”

AMAZON FREE E-BOOK NEW YEARS PROMOTION — NO LIFE UNTIL DEATH BY GARRY RODGERS

Happy 2019 everyone from Garry Rodgers & DyingWords.net. To start things off right, here’s a special New Years promotion. My psychological crime thriller No Life Until Death is a FREE Amazon Kindle e-Book for the New Year season only. By-pass the party hats, noisy horns and morning headache by staying up late reading something that’ll really ring in. Get your FREE digital copy of No Life Until Death by downloading it hereYou can also read it on Kindle Unlimited or email me for an ePub or PDF copy at garry.rodgers@shaw.ca.

No Life Until Death is a sequel to No Witnesses To Nothing. It’s the second in a series featuring Inspector Sharlene Bate and the perils she finds. This is the first time No Life Until Death has been released as a Kindle Freebie so take advantage of this thrilling crime story while you have time. Here’s the jacket blurb to give you an idea what’s inside No Life Until Death and why it’s sure to keep you turning pages long after Auld Lang Syne.

*** Desperate People Do Desperate Things ***

 No Life Until Death is a terrifying, psychological crime thriller by retired homicide detective, forensic coroner, now Amazon Bestselling author, Garry Rodgers.

Outwardly, Inspector Sharlene Bate of I-HIT, Vancouver’s Integrated Homicide Investigation Team, has her life back on track. Shining career. About to remarry. And a healthy, thirteen-year-old daughter named Emma.

Inwardly? Sharlene Bate knows different.

In Palo Alto, California, Abra and Darren Playfair’s middle-class world is imploding. Their thirteen-year-old daughter, Molly, is dying from Atypical Hemolytic Uremic Syndrome—aHUS—now in end-stage renal failure. Her kidneys must be replaced.

Molly Playfair and Emma Bate have something else in common besides age—an AB Positive blood-type—one of the rarest on earth. Only matching organs will save Molly’s life, forcing the Playfairs to hire unscrupulous scalpels in the Philippines and buy her a transplant through the underground world of human organ trafficking.

When Inspector Bate investigates a body found butchered and robbed of its organs, she’s dragged into a ring of black-market harvesters operating in Vancouver and shipping parts to Manila—internationally targeting those with rare blood. Oblivious to desperate people doing desperate things, Sharlene Bate battles personal blackness while the traffickers stalk Emma.

Time runs out for Molly and Emma as Sharlene Bate and the Playfairs desperately fight to keep their daughters alive. One must die so the other can live. For the girls…there’s no life until death.

How far would you go to save your child?

*** Desperate People Do Desperate Things ***

What readers say about No Life Until Death

“This “cranked-up” second book following on the heels of the novel, No Witnesses to Nothing; finds Inspector Sharlene Bate of the Integrated Homicide Investigation Team, involved in the most gruesome, dire, and terrifying case of her career. The author skillfully navigates you through a gamut of emotions. I found myself holding my breath, cussing, and even weeping. The dialogue is realistic, the story – alarming (I look at people sideways now), and the action – gripping. Do NOT pass up this book – you will be shocked at the lengths people will go to in the name of greed, love, and camaraderie.”

“As a fan of police procedural stories about murder, kidnapping, and serial killers, No Life Until Death kept me reading non-stop. This book is so real you’d never know it was crime fiction.”
“I think Garry Rodgers is slated to be one of the best crime writers of our time. No Life Until Death proves it.”
“Rodgers weaves his experiences as a police officer, his skills as a storyteller, and his commitment to his craft as a writer into a compelling and frightening story. His writing talent opens the door into the unseen brutality visited by humans on their fellow beings.” 
“I. Could. Not. Put. It. Down.” 

No Life Until Death – Desperate People Do Desperate Things.

Get Your FREE Amazon Kindle e-Book by Garry Rodgers. Download No Life Until Death here.

GILBERT PAUL JORDAN—THE “BOOZING BARBER” SERIAL KILLER

A5The term “serial killer” makes us think of hi-profile monsters like Ted Bundy, who beat and strangled his victims, or the Zodiac Killer, who shot most with a gun. There’s Clifford Olson who used a hammer. Jack The Ripper who liked his knife. And Willie Pickton who drugged his ladies, cut them apart with an electric Sawzall, then fed their pieces to his pigs.

By nature, serial killers follow a specific Modus Operandi—an M.O. peculiar to their wares. Some strangle, some shoot, some smash, and some slash. But the most unique and unsuspecting method of serial killing I’ve heard of came from Gilbert Paul Jordan, aka the “Boozing Barber”, who got his victims comatose drunk then finished them off by pouring straight vodka down their throats. He intentionally alcohol-poisoned at least nine women—possibly dozens more.

A1

Gilbert Jordan was a monster from the 1980’s operating in the Down Town East Side of Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. Today, the skid row DTES of Vancouver is still one of the most dangerous, crime and drug-ridden inner cities of the world. In the DTES, the most popular drug of choice is still alcohol—ethanol as it’s known in the coroner and toxicologist world.

A6Jordan was born in 1931 and started a crime career in his twenties by kidnapping and raping a five-year-old aboriginal girl. He beat the charges and went on to commit more sexual assaults including abducting a woman from a mental institute and raping her, too. Jordan bounced in and out of jail. He continued to prey on the helpless and downtrodden, especially alcoholic women from the First Nations culture. Gilbert Jordan, himself, became a raging alcoholic and consumed over fifty ounces of vodka per day.

Jordan learned barbering skills while in prison. Between jail sentences, he set up a barber shop on East Hastings Street in the heart of Vancouver’s DTES, being a regular fixture in the seedy bar scene. He blended easily and was not at all intimidating—short, stocky, balding, with thick glasses.

Jordan was a well-known mark for buying vulnerable aboriginal women drinks and he’d take them from the bars to his barber shop or a room which he kept in a derelict hotel. Here they’d party till they passed out. It’s estimated that hundreds of women binge drank with Jordan during his spree from 1980 to 1987.

Overdose deaths in the DTES were common.

A7The majority were intravenous drug users, many having a lethal toxin level amplified with mixed use of ethanol. It’s still that way today. But overdose deaths from ethanol consumption alone are rare. Usually, heavy drinkers reach a blood-ethanol limit where they pass out—long before ethanol effects shut down their central nervous system. The few deaths from ethanol alone are almost always caused by an unconscious victim aspirating on vomit—not from reaching a lethal blood-ethanol-content. A BEC of 0.35% (35mg of ethanol per 100 milliliters of blood) is considered the start of the lethal range. Note that 0.08% is the standard for drunk driving.

During Jordan’s run, there were increasingly suspicious amounts of aboriginal women deaths from shockingly high BEC. They included:

  1. Ivy Rose — 0.51
  2. Mary Johnson — 0.44
  3. Barbara Paul — 0.47
  4. Mary Johns — 0.76
  5. Patricia Thomas — 0.51
  6. Patricia Andrew — 0.79
  7. Vera Harry — 0.49
  8. Vanessa Buckner — 0.50
  9. Edna Slade — 0.55

A8When Edna Slade was found dead in Gilbert Jordan’s hotel room, and it became apparent Jordan was the common denominator in many similar deaths, Vancouver Police put Jordan under surveillance. From October 12th to November 26th, 1987, VPD observed Jordan “search out native Indian women in the skid row area of Vancouver and take them back to his hotel room for binge-drinking”.

VPD officers listened from outside Jordan’s door and recorded him saying phrases like “Have a drink. Down the hatch, baby. Twenty bucks if you drink it right down. See if you’re a real woman. Finish that drink. Down the hatch, hurry, right down. You need another drink. I’ll give you fifty bucks if you can take it right down. I’ll give you ten, twenty, fifty dollars. Whatever you want. Come on, I want to see you get it all down. Get it right down.

On four occasions during the surveillance, police intervened and remove the comatose victims to the hospital.

A9Gilbert Jordan was convicted of manslaughter in the death of Vanessa Buckner. The prosecution used similar fact evidence from the other eight identified deaths. He was sentenced to fifteen years imprisonment. This was reduced to nine years on appeal and he served only six. When Jordan was paroled in 1994, he went right back to the business of stalking alcoholic aboriginal women. He was being watched by VPD and immediately sent back to prison for parole violation and an additional sexual assault. He served out his sentenced but was released in 2000, again returning to a life of chronic alcoholism and serial predation.

Gilbert Jordan, the Boozing Barber, died of the disease called alcoholism in 2006.

*   *   *

Ethanol, or ethyl alcohol, has been used by humans for thousands of years for its relaxation effect of euphoria and lowering social inhibitions. Drinking ethanol is widely accepted around the western world and is an enormous economic force.

A12Ethanol abuse is a contributing factor in untold tragedies.

Despite ethanol’s popularity as a social interactor, the medical pathophysiology considers any amount of BEC to be clinically poisonous. Ethanol is metabolized by the liver at a rate of about 50 ml (1.7 fluid ounce) per 90 minutes. That’s like two beers or one 9-ounce glass of wine every hour and a half. Drink more than you can absorb and you’ll get drunk. Wake up still drunk and you’re hung-over.

A13The acute effects of an ethanol overdose vary according to many factors. The body mass and tolerance to the drug are primary as is the rate of consumption. Ultimately, acute ethanol poisoning depresses the body’s central nervous system, causing the respiratory system to shut down and the victim asphyxiates.

These are the average symptomatic presentations of ethanol poisoning in relation to BEC:

  • 02 – 0.07% — Intoxication and euphoria
  • 08 – 0.19% — Ataxia (loss of body control ), poor judgment, labile mood
  • 20 – 0.29% — Advanced ataxia, extremely poor judgment, nausea
  • 30 – 0.35% — Stage 1 anesthesia, memory collapse
  • 35 – 0.39% — Comatose
  • 40 +             — Respiratory failure, sudden death

A14In my time as a police officerthen as a coronerI attended lots of deaths where ethanol was a contributing factor. Very few were acute ethanol poisoning deaths, though. Many were mixed drug overdoses, especially mixing booze with prescription pills. Then there were suffocating on puke cases, suicides while pissed, fatal motor vehicle crashes driven by drunks, and violent homicides done during ethanol-fueled anger and inebriation.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not slamming the social use of ethanol. I’ve been around the booze scene my whole life and still enjoy decent wine and good scotch, although I’ve never had a taste for beer.

A15I grew up in a socio-economic environment where rampant alcoholism was common. It was accepted. Grant RobertsonI worked with Grant in my teensGrant was proud of his breathalyzer certificate proving he was caught behind the wheel at a 0.44% BEC. True story. I saw the paper. Grant was a die-hard—a chronic alcoholic with forty years of practice. I don’t think Grant ever went below two-five.

As a young cop, I brought an old guy in for a blow. I couldn’t tell if he was drunk but he’d caused a minor car accident and slightly smelled of liquor. Legally, I had to demand a breathalyzer test. He pushed the needle to a 0.36% and I’ll never forget the breathalyzer operator’s remark “You’re no stranger to alcohol, are you?

People have different tolerances to ethanol. And different physiological responses.

A16I’ve worked with cops who were drunk on duty, seen judges half-cut on the bench, had my pilot pass out before time to depart, and I’ve woken in places unknown. I’ve had countless laughs, spent way too much money on time pissed away, and have stories from nights in the bars.

But I still can’t get clipped in my buddy Dave’s chair without thinking of Gilbert Paul Jordan, the “Boozing Barber” Serial Killer of the Down Town East Side of Vancouver.