Suspicion - The Hunt

Episode Date: March 7, 2025

Homicide detectives get lucky. The best witness possible, and he’s talking, and he’s got a partial licence plate from a car that left the scene right after Kim Golaub was shot dead. But homicide cops are struggling for a motive. Did someone have a grudge against the victim? Was he in the wrong place at the wrong time? Just a few hours after the murder homicide detectives have two young men in separate interview rooms. Their tactics? Lying to get a confession. Audio sources: Global, Toronto Police, CTV Chief Investigative Reporter Kevin Donovan, who brought you the Billionaire Murders and Death in a Small Town, is back with Murder on Mount Olive, an investigation of a crime the courts closed the book on in 2012. On a sunny day in August, 2009, a man is shot three times at a barbecue. What happens that day will put a budding young soccer star turned carpenter behind bars for life for a crime he says he didn’t commit. This is the story of Christopher Sheriffe and his fight for justice. Subscribers can listen to episodes early each week, plus get exclusive access to bonus episodes. 

Okay, this is the situation. You will be charged with first degree murder. And the person who actually did the shooting is gonna walk. He's gonna walk free. Which is unfortunate from my perspective because it should not happen. It's 416 a.m. Monday, August 17, less than a day after Kim Gollick was shot dead on Mount Olive Drive. We're in a Toronto Police interview room.

Dirty floor tile, cinderblock walls painted a high gloss beige. There's a round table against one corner. Two men sit on comfortable rolling office chairs on one side. They're wearing dark business suits with white shirts and plain ties. Central casting for City Homicide cops. Across from them, on a tippy metal stool, sits a young man, Chris Sheriff, former soccer star, aspiring carpenter. He's shivering in a thin, long-sleeve top. Chris is tall, lanky. He

has short-crop dark hair. His head is bowed and he keeps pulling his arms out of the sleeves and folding them inside against his chest trying to keep warm. He's been in this room six hours. There is a heat wave, but it's purposely cold in the interview room. It's not just on TV where cops play tricks. What we're reading now, to prevent that, and put things in proper perspective, will communicate some victims. So it's for you to tell us what exactly happened. That's homicide detective Doug Sansom. It's for you to tell us what exactly happened. That's homicide detective Doug Sansom.

He's sitting closest to Chris. The detective's big hands are folded on his lap, and he's leaning towards his suspect. The vibe is friendly. Sansom and his partner, Detective Andrew Eklund, are engaging in the common and legally acceptable tactic of lying to get a confession. Sansom has just told Chris that while he will be charged with first degree murder, another man, the detective says he's the actual

shooter, is about to walk free. That's where we're at. There's going to be a search warrant done in your house, protection order done in your phone, light hubs are going to be shown, we're going to be a search warrant done in your house, direction ordered on your phone, light hubs are going to be shown wherever you have witnesses putting your vehicle there, putting you there. But I truly believe that the person who is more responsible in this whole mess is going to walk out of your fit person. And I really don't want to see that happen. Just buddies talking. Help us, help you.

And what I would have really liked reading now is for you to tell me, because I could one day, who did what and why it happened? Can you do that for me? From the Toronto Star, I'm Kevin Donovan. And this is Season 4 of Suspicion. Murder on Mount Olive. Episode 2. The Hunt. In episode one, I told you about the shooting of Bishan Golub, Kim to his friends.

Kim was shot three times, minutes after he showed up at a small yard party in the Northwest corner of Toronto in August, 2009. Witnesses called 911. A passing nurse tried to stop the bleeding. Paramedics and police showed up. One of the witnesses volunteered a tip. It sent cops looking for a silver four-door Mazda.

Despite heroic efforts, Kim died in hospital. I want to wind the clock back 12 hours from that middle of the night scene in the police interview room. To understand how Chris Sheriff got there, let's go back to the time just before the gunshots. Kim Gollob has just stopped his four-door Honda Accord on the street next to a barbecue. Kim knows the host. He's dropping by for a bite to eat. This corner of Toronto is called Mount Olive. I never could figure out why.

The land is flat. It was once farmland, but olives were never grown there. Now it's dotted with residences, summer social housing, high-rise apartments, townhouses, streets lined with bungalows. The broader community is called Rexdale. It's an area where most people are doing their best to get by on not a lot of money. Lots of new immigrants, including refugees, many escaping war in places like Iraq and Somalia. Others moved from India or the Caribbean.

In Mount Olive, there's some crime, some violence, a big police presence. Now there's a good local high school around the corner, but the neighborhood is a place where people do look over their shoulder from time to time, just to be on the safe side. As Kim walks from his car, the lady hosting the barbecue spots him and comes out to chat.

The way it unfolded was, um, our victim was chatting with the girl. I'm pretty sure he was there for, you know, to meet up with her in the afternoon, maybe a little Sunday matinee. He hadn't met her, I think, in her club. He was chatting with her. She was on one side of the fence. He was on the other. You heard homicide detective Doug Sansom earlier in the interview room with Chris Sheriff, whose conviction for first-degree murder is the subject of this podcast. But this is audio from my interview with the detective 14 years after the shooting. He's retired now. This case was near the end of his career.

Let me warn you, Doug Sansom pulled zero punches. As an example, you heard him say Kim Gallup was dropping by for a Sunday matinee, as in to have sex with the party host. That's not information I've ever come across. Kim Gallup, he was born Bishan Gallum, but everyone called him Kim, was married with children. His wife Tadeeka would later call him the love of her life and a pillar of support for both her and their children.

Still, that was Sansom's perception, based on a mixture of his own interviews on the case, and a natural cop suspicion that somebody was always up to something. Like I said, he doesn't pull punches. Get him talking about policing in the big city, and he makes it clear he's still upset that the force got rid of a program called carding, something he believes was a valuable investigative tool. It helped him on this case, he says.

Critics dubbed carding organized police racism. Young men, most often young black men, were stopped for no reason, searched their information taken down on a paper card, and entered into a database. Sansom says those critics were out to lunch. Carding kept track of bad guys and potential bad guys. It made these neighborhoods safer for the people who lived there.

We do it because we care about them. When the Kim Gollum shooting happened, Carding was still a big part of policing. And then what happens is the politicians, with the help of mainstream media, twist things around, make us the bad guys. And what they've done by not letting us card people, not letting them stop and talk to people, is more of the black community are dying because of it. We're working hard to keep them alive.

Mainstream media and politicians are working hard to just let them die. It's very frustrating. It's very frustrating. You won't get a lot of coppers talking like that because they're still on the job and they're getting shit. I should also warn you that Doug Sansom uses language that some people may find offensive. He'll identify people by their skin color, their race. Some of his statements

are pejorative. At the end of our interview, he mused that he'd get in trouble from his own kids over some of the things he'd said. To get a picture of him, think of Daniel Baldwin, who played Beau Felton on Homicide Life on the Street, and add the crusty edginess of Jerry Orbach, who played Lenny Brisco in Law and Order. Tough, gruff, street savvy. Sansom is tall. He's got a thick head of hair. There's a swagger about him, which comes from 30 years on the job. He picks up the story of that August 16 day in 2009. So, um, kind of nowhere came a guy, three shots, down he goes, runs away. It had all the hallmarks of a gangland shooting.

Sudden violence on the street, lone gunmen who disappeared immediately. All of this was running through Sansom's mind as he and his partner, Detective Andrew Eklund, started the case. And he expected the worst. One of those cases where nobody cooperates. Potential witnesses saying, nope, didn't see anything. But not this time. Remember the 911 call from Narjit Singh. Emergency, do you need a police fire ambulance? Hello, I'm just walking here on a silver stone.

Yeah, somebody shoot here three times. Narjit and a friend had been walking in the area. They heard shots. A man ran by them towards a car. And Narjit called 911 as the car drove off. The guy's bleeding, can you send an ambulance? Yeah, ambulance is on the way. Narjeet is flustered, but he provides some key details to the 911 operator, which gets relayed to Sansom.

We're two guys walking northbound. And the one guy, the one witness, I think he was Sri Lankan. He heard three shots, looked up, saw a guy running with a handgun in his hand, the hoodie was coming down as he ran, got in a car, and the car drove away, passed him, and the driver was the same flavor as the shooter, and then he described him as perverted. That's Sansom's imperfect recollection of witness statements from a case that is now 14 years old.

The same flavor comment is obviously offensive. I've included it and other things you'll hear in this podcast because I want you to understand where everyone is coming from, from police to civilians to lawyers, judge, and even the jury. I don't want to sugarcoat any part of this story. From Sansom's point of view, he's just recounting how he closed the case.

And to this day, Narjit Singh sticks out in his mind. And he got the plate all but two digits. So he got four letters and one number, and he didn't get the last two. He wrote it down on a piece of paper and stuck around, spoke with the police, gave them that info. We'll be right back. The reason Narjit was able to identify the make and model of car so easily was that, by coincidence, he once owned a similar vehicle. And he had eyesight good enough to catch part of the plate on a moving car.

By the time shooting victim Kim Golub was en route to hospital, the 911 dispatcher had transmitted an alert to police in the area, what's called a BOLO. Olive Drive at Silverstone. Vehicle last seen heading westbound on Mount Olive. Repeat, Silver, four-door Mazda. Partial plate, five, four, four, Sam. Detective Constable Antonio Frederick rolled up to the crime scene on Mount Olive Drive at 321 PM, a half hour after the shooting. He's a member of the Guns and Gangs Task Force, a specialized unit created in 2004 when gun crimes were spiking up in the city, the year before the infamous summer of the gun.

Frederick died a few years ago. I've taken his account from his testimony at the trial. He was a big guy, powerfully built, bald, with a broad smile for people he liked. He was black, by the trial. He was a big guy, powerfully built, bald, with a broad smile for people he liked. He was black, by the way. I mention his race because one of the things Toronto police were trying to do, and still are with limited success, was have a racially diverse mix of officers reflective of the city they police, particularly on the gang squad, to try and erase the image of white cops policing

black men. This day, Frederick is in street clothes, driving a beat up car with no police markings and no equipment on board, other than one of those red lights to stick on the dashboard if he had to pull someone over. Frederick asked a sergeant if he could use the mobile computer in the sergeant's patrol car and see if he could match Narjit Singh's partial license plate to a vehicle registered in the area. And I think there was only two in Toronto and one just happened to be, you know, not too far south of that location. Detective Frederick used a simple wild card search. He entered the partial license plate digits Narjit Singh had copied down, followed by three stars.

One address caught his attention, Avning Drive, a few kilometers southwest. A silver Mazda was registered there to owners Marjorie and Lloyd Sherriff. He went back to his unmarked car and headed in that direction. His route took him away from Mount Olive, down towards the Jamestown area, Mark Carr and headed in that direction.

His route took him away from Mount Olive, down towards the Jamestown area, a rival to Mount Olive in the gang world. But Avning Drive, where the Mazda was registered, was actually west of Jamestown, not in an area known for gang activity. As he got closer, Frederick slowed down. The house he was looking for came into view just before a bend in the road. A decent two-story brown stucco home. Not the sort of place he'd expect a gang member to live. Maybe the Mazda had been stolen and used in the shooting. That

happened quite often. As he passed the house, Frederick spotted a silver Honda Civic in the driveway, but no Mazda. He got Detective Sansom on the phone. "'Sit on the house,' Sansom said. He'd send a spin team, unmarked police cars, to change positions, do casual drive-by so as not to alarm a suspect into running." Meanwhile, officers had converged

on the Mount Olive area Frederick had just left. A photo taken by a news photographer that day shows 15 marked police cars on the street. Yeah, we took her to the scene, interviewed neighbors, the ladies he was talking to, and we didn't get pretty much from them. No video, no other significant witnesses. It was a mystery. Why would someone kill Kim Golub? Who was he for that matter? Nobody was being very helpful, other than basic information. Kim was in his mid-30s, married twice, had five children, worked at a company that made furniture.

Nothing in police files indicated gang involvement, but the shirt he was wearing, the red shirt, that looked like a clue. Now police had a new theory. Maybe this was a case of mistaken identity. The theory was that our deceased was just in the place a lot of time wearing a red, it was a red belt shirt, if I recall.

Before this story, I'd done little reporting on gang culture, but I did briefly touch on gang activities while writing about a certain mayor who was hanging around with members of the Bloods in Toronto. The mayor of the fourth largest city in North America has smoked crack. During what he calls a drunken stupor. Yep, Rob Ford. That Rob Ford.

The former mayor of Toronto seen smoking crack cocaine from a glass pipe. It made international news in 2013. I was one of the two reporters who broke the story in the Toronto Star. As we eventually reported, a member of the local Bloods had covertly filmed the mayor on his iPhone. For most of us, myself included, we don't think about gangs much, if at all. You might see a headline,

but it seems so far away from your normal life. You might think, well, one gang guy kills another, big deal. It was the Rob Ford story that jolted the people of Toronto You might think, well, one gang guy kills another. Big deal. It was the Rob Ford story that jolted the people of Toronto into realizing these gangs are prevalent and close. These are dangerous guys. The one who tried to sell us a cracked video in a late night parking lot meeting was packing a gun. I didn't know that at the time. The ironic thing is, around this time, Mayor Ford had publicly been declaring war on gangs,

while secretly paying the utility bills on the crack house where the video was filmed by gang members he was partying with. In the end, cops charged a bunch of the gangsters with drug and weapons offences, and some went to jail. And Ford, well, he eventually fessed up. Yes, I have some look to crack cocaine. But no, do I? Am I an addict? No. When have you tried it?

Have I tried it? Probably in one of my drunken stupors. I'm telling you about this as a bit of a primer on gangs. The other thing, and it comes up in this story, is that some gangs affiliate themselves using colors. These Bloods and Crips trace their origin and their color scheme to California in the early 1970s. The Bloods Rob Ford was hanging around with used the color red. It might be a red bandana, those are called flags, maybe a red hat. Now the area where the Kim Gollop shooting took place was controlled by the Crips, who

wear blue, again a hat, a bandana, something like that. Not all the time though. But if cops find someone wearing a blue bandana, for example, they're going to write the person up in a contact card for being a gangster. Seems a bit of a stretch to me. So as the police theory went, to wear a red shirt in Mount Olive, which is Blue Crips territory, well, you can expect trouble. Whether Kim Gollib, this mid-30s furniture maker, knew about any of this, I don't know.

Detective Sansom did tell me that the woman hosting the barbecue had a son who was in the Bloods. She just moved into this Cripps area a week before. So, Winsome has a son and he's a member of the Bloods. And so the theory was that these two mutts mistook the victim for Winsome's son and thought he was a member of the bluffs. Sansom's reference to two mutts, he's talking about the suspected shooter and the driver of the Mazda. Under this theory, Kim Gollib and his red golf shirt were mistaken for Winsome's son,

a Bloods member, and the shooter was a member of the Crips who used blue for their flags. Because there had been a shooting, I don't know, I think it was, if I recall it, a few weeks before this and Winsome Winston Son was a suspect involved in the shooting between the Bloods and the Crips. Okay, let's go back to the hunt. We're just an hour and a bit after the shooting. Detective Frederick and the spin team are keeping eyes on the house where the Mazda is registered.

The officers in unmarked cars and casual clothes are a mix of fresh faces and veterans. All were wearing body armor, which has been standard gear for many years. Along with their handguns, some had shotguns just in case. Detective Sansom was worried for the man he calls his star witness, Narjit Singh. One of the best witnesses that I've come across, enthusiastic about, not afraid, not afraid

because it was gang related. I even asked him later, I asked him, you want some, you want like witness protection? And he was like, nah, I don't think I need that. Back at 23 Division, the local headquarters, other officers combed the contact card database. In 2009, these contact cards were a basic part of Toronto policing. The media called it carding. The police unit that used them the most was called TAVIS, Toronto Anti-Violence Strategy. Thank you for joining us.

Residents in Toronto say positive change is on the way in the city thanks to Toronto Police Service's TAVUS initiative. That's a Toronto Police public relations video from back then. TAVUS was made up of three squads of rapid response officers who could quickly be dispatched when trouble was reported. In the times between reported acts of violence, Tavis officers didn't have much to do. So they did a lot of carting, stopping young black men for seemingly no reason at all. Police who defend this practice say the original theory was this. Let's use an example of

jewelry stores. There's a rash of break-ins in the community. Cops see some guys hanging around the back of a plaza near one of these stores. They pull up, have a chat, take down the information of the guys, name, driver's license, then tell them to buzz off. Later, if there's a break-in, detectives have some place to start. That's the concept, and it does make some sense, but this police tactic would eventually be stopped largely because of the work of my colleagues at the Toronto Star, led by reporter Jim Rankin. Too often, someone was stopped simply because they were a person of color, just out for

a walk, hanging with friends, even shooting hoops outside of school. Here's a clip from the Starz series, which interviewed young men targeted by this strategy. I received a contact card entry from an encounter I had with the police. Interestingly, they pulled me over on my birthday and claimed that since they pulled me over after 5 p.m., you know, the document in the form of the driver's license and the sticker tag had expired.

And there was no ticket issued in connection with those alleged offenses. That's Chris Williams, an academic and activist who is black and who applied for and obtained the many contact cards filled out on him by police over the years. Williams felt violated by police over the years. Williams felt violated by what cops were doing.

To be clear, I'm white. I've been driving around Toronto for 40 years. I've been stopped and ticketed for speeding once or twice. And I think for passing a stopped streetcar one time when I just moved to the city from the country. But I've never been stopped in my car or while walking for the color of my skin. I think it's impossible for a white person

to properly comprehend how offensive this behavior by police is. Thanks to the efforts of the Toronto Star reporter, Jim Rankin, the practice was ended in 2016. But in 2009, when our story begins, it was commonplace. Detective Frederick had traced the Mazda to this home on Avening Drive, but the owners, according to a provincial database, were a husband and wife in their mid-50s. That didn't fit Narjit Singh's description. Narjet had seen a running man and a driver, who both looked young.

But back at the station, an officer found a contact card connected to the Mazda. A 19-year-old named Christopher Sheriff had been stopped with his father driving the Mazda the previous year. Police had filled out two separate contact cards, one for Chris and one for Lloyd Sr., his dad. Further digging turned up a bunch of contact cards on Chris' sheriff, nine in total. This must be one of the two guys, police thought. These one-page contact cards have 34 boxes for the police officer to fill in. Among them, name, age, date of birth, place of birth, sex, location where person was stopped,

eye color, skin color. It's called a field information card. Here's information from some of them read by two voice actors. March 16, 2008. Male, black, silver Mazda, 544SRK, Christopher Sheriff, loitering at John Garland Plaza, running from police, clothing, pants, blue jeans, black coat, black sneakers, grey hoodie, driver's license produced as identification. The running comment is not explained, and Chris did produce his license and registration

for the vehicle when asked. No charges were laid. May 29, 2008. Male, black. Shirt, black, oversized. Black jeans. Subject, Christopher Sheriff. Loitering at 116 Jamestown.

Scar over left eye. The scar was from a soccer injury. An elbow to the eye. One of the two injuries that ended his chance at pro soccer. It almost blinded him in that eye. August 7, 2008. Male, black. Subject, Christopher Sheriff. Pants, blue jeans. Shirt, blue. Loitering near 181 Jamestown. Facial scar

near left eye. September 3, 2008. 1 40 p.m. Male, black. gray, shirt white, exits Finch Avenue West bus, enters Father Henry Carr School, identified as Christopher Sheriff. He was wearing his school uniform when the police stopped him. I'll tell you more about this one later, as it was the subject of a complaint by Chris to a police watchdog. Four police officers followed him into the school. October 14, 2008, male, black, subject identified as Christopher Sheriff, loitering at 31 Jamestown Crescent. Not a lot of detail in that one. November 15, 2008. Two male Blacks. Silver Mazda Protégé.

Pulled over driving near 156 Jamestown. Identification. Subject 1, Christopher Sheriff. Subject 2, Lloyd Sheriff Sr. Lloyd Sr. is Chris' dad. You'll hear about what police did to him in a later episode. May 10, 2009. Investigated in Jamestown area. Male, black. Christopher Sheriff. Loitering with another male, black. Standing in front of unit. Clothing, white

t-shirt. Blue jeans, white baseball cap. We'll be right back. Police didn't lay charges in any of those stops. For retired homicide detective Doug Sansom, that was irrelevant. The fact that these contact cards existed, that was relevant. He knew they were looking for a guy who was, in the vernacular, known to police. But known for what? Hanging around? Driving with his dad? Sansom said it's all a part of police work. And I was thinking of this, because, you know, as I, when I retire and I heard the stories about our politicians sticking our nose in police work and basically getting rid of the

whole carding system, you lose very, very valuable intruders. And I can tell you story after story about actually solving a crime because of these contact cards. At 4.33 p.m. that Sunday afternoon, less than two hours after the shooting, a silver Mazda came down the street and pulled into the driveway of Marjory and Lloyd's Sheriff's two-story house. Detective Frederick recorded in his notes that a lone black man was driving. The license plate was 544-SRK.

The first four digits matched the partial plate Narjit Singh had given them. Bingo. Frederick noted that a black male between 5'10 and 6' with a slim build got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk to the house. He was wearing a long white t-shirt, blue jeans, had short black hair, and was carrying what looked to him like a gray and white sweater he thought was a hoodie. Frederick called the detective office and asked an officer if they had a photo of Christopher's sheriff. They did.

The photo was taken during a contact card stop. It was a match to the young man who'd walked into the house. More officers arrived, in separate unmarked cars, to back up Frederick and the spin team. Police were certain that one of their two suspects was in the house, but they had no idea who the second man was or where he was. Sansom had decided to wait, see what happens. An hour or so later, the undercover squad sees a man who looks to be in his late 50s come out of the house, get into the Mazda, and drive off. He comes back

a couple of hours later. Must be the dad, police think. They've got a contact card on him from when father and son were stopped together. Police keep watching. The spin team car is changing positions from time to time. At 9 o' 4 p.m., the man Frederick had identified as Christopher's sheriff comes out the front door, gets into the Mazda, and drives off. The police spin team follows. Cherise came out of the house, got in his car, started the move. He didn't go too far.

The Mazda stops in the Jamestown housing complex east of the home where the sheriff family lived. Police were quite familiar with Jamestown, known as Doomstown or just the town. Cops knew that if they walked around the complex, even in plain clothes, people would know police were there and anyone they were looking for would go to ground. Instead, police, there were 12 unmarked cars by this time, circled the perimeter. Eventually, one member of the spin team spots the Mazda driver. Chris Sheriff had parked, gone into the complex,

and emerged with another man. And he pulled over and he picked up the second guy who put the description that our star witness gave. And so I gave his cross to arrest. Police tail the Mazda a short distance. Over a police radio, and the suspect was called. The suspect was called, and the suspect was called. The suspect was called, and the suspect was called.

The suspect was called, and the suspect was called. The suspect was called, and the suspect was called. The suspect was called, and the suspect was called. The suspect was called, and the suspect was called.

The suspect was called, and the suspect was called. The suspect was called, and the suspect was called. The suspect was called, and the suspect was called. The suspect was called, and the suspect was called.

The suspect was called, and the suspect was called. The suspect was called, and the suspect was called. The suspect was called, Normally, police would have to box in a car with their own vehicles, one on each side, front and back. But at that moment, the Mazda pulls into a driveway, so police just had to pull in behind, tight. Detective Frederick and the other officers jump out of their cars and draw their guns. Frederick wrenches open the passenger door and pulls the unknown man out and forces him up against the side of the car. Another officer pulls Chris Sheriff from the driver's seat and does the same thing. Then both men are forced to the ground, handcuffed and searched. This was 11 p.m. on the Sunday night. Both men were taken to the closest police station, fingerprinted and photographed. Chris Sheriff was put in one interview room,

and the other man, a 24-year-old named Awet Asfaha, into another room down the hall. We're now back where the episode started, with a shivering Chris Sheriff facing Detective Sansa and his partner. There's a small round table between them. All right, so you are under arrest. You've been arrested for first degree murder. All right. It's my duty to inform you that you have the right to retain and strike counsel without delay. You have the right to telephone anywhere you wish. You also have the right

to free legal advice from a legal aid lawyer. Police protocol is to video and audio record a suspect interview. The first hour, the video didn't work. Sansom used a small recorder until they got the video operational. The audio is poor in some places, something that will come up later in the trial because of different interpretations of what Chris says. Here in the interview room, Sansom tries many tactics, first appealing to Chris's conscience. So the way I will be meeting tomorrow morning Dr. Mark, the former non-own doctor, that

person's wife, she has to vote about him, identify his body, just so it's not an identification. I want to be able to talk, give her some kind of peace of mind. Sansom is trying hard to get his suspect to talk, to say anything. He's not having much luck. When he was arrested, Chris asked to speak to his mom, not a lawyer.

At the police station, police told him he should call a lawyer, so a duty counsel spoke to him by phone. The advice, don't talk to police. Chris does though for many hours. Now, no lawyer came to the division that night. His parents did, but he wasn't allowed to see them. During an interview that stretches more than five hours, Chris does say a few things. Mainly, he says he wants to go home.

I don't know at what point to switch out to a civil servant. To see how long we're going to stay here, they can yell at us. At this station here, but in the general record is Where's the friend serious Situation and I know what they just want more on all your life But in town, unfortunately The detective tries a different tactic. He asked Chris if he understands the different types of murder charges.

Chris is yawning. He shakes his head. Sansom tells him there's first degree, which is planned and deliberate, and you go to prison for life. But the detective tells Chris there's another kind of murder. It's a little bit like one of those game shows. Sansom is telling Chris what's behind all the doors. He's trying to explain different scenarios that lead to different charges.

Second degree murder. You and I, we get in a fight. Sansom balls up his fists and mimics a boxer's punching motions over the table between them. I get so angry and so pissed off with you, I pull out a gun and I shoot you. Second degree. It's a lesser charge, still a very serious charge. All right? Oh, charges of treason. It all ended up trash. Third case is a manslaughter.

You and I have a fight. All right. Oh, charges of treason. It all ended up treachery. Third case is a manslaughter. You and I had a fight. Took the out and punched him. And I get you with a wicked blow. You fall down and it's a manslaughter. Chris tells the detective he doesn't understand the legal system, doesn't understand why he's here.

Sansom changes tack again. He says, look, I want to understand what happened. He lists what police have learned so far. It's bare bones, but he makes it sound airtight. A man has been shot dead. We have a witness putting your car at the scene with you in it. We have this other man who is the shooter getting into your car and you drive him off. Then you pick him up later and we arrest you.

And that's quite important for you to tell the truth. Do you understand what I'm saying? Chris, a man is dead. He's dead. He's not gonna be. He's gone. It's very serious, and we think our job is serious, but you know, it will adjust to me in what you tell me. And if you tell me the truth, I have no problem. I have no problem saying, in my report, saying, I think Chris is on the truth because I went and I verified this information. I'm already here. The interview goes on for hours. Sansom's partner, Detective Eklund, comes and goes. At one point, Eklund goes down the hall to speak to the other man they arrested, Awet

Asfaha. He's angry, loud. Today, there's nothing to be said. And truth is, I was in a car and fucking bomb, gun stuck Asfaha. He's angry. Loud. Awet has dark hair cropped close to his scalp with a fade on both sides. He's got a slight beard, more like a five o'clock shadow. He's just under six feet tall, wearing light blue jeans and a gray and white sweatshirt. No hood. He's rolled the sleeves up just below his forearms. He's moving back and forth on the stool, the same set up as Chris down the hall. Detective Eklund has a leather-bound memo book like an old-fashioned day-timer

open on the table between them. Awet tells Eklund to go investigate, stop wasting time with him. Go back into your fucking car and go drive. Go look who, what, where, why. Go check that out, bro. I don't know, bro. 5W's, man, come on.

Detectives had pulled Awet's file after the arrest to see who they were dealing with. Like Chris, lots of contact cards. Unlike Chris, who had no criminal record, Awet did. Convictions for drug trafficking, cocaine possession, and failing to comply with bail conditions, but nothing violent.

In the interview room, Awet is struggling to keep his cool. At one point, he knocks an empty cup off the table. Awet had asked for water, but didn't get any. You think I care about a fucking nigga losing his life, bro? Yo, I'm here right now sitting in the fucking room. Yeah, do you? Come on. Bring your bullshit, bro.

Eklund, the homicide cop, sits up. How do you know about the color of the person that died? The detectives have been careful not to provide any information about the victim, just that it was a homicide. Awet said the detective is being stupid. Bro, it's not about the color of that dye. Nigga is a plural word.

See, we're from the streets, we talk like that. I think Awet meant a general word, not plural. As detectives would eventually learn, he dropped out of high school at age 14. His family was originally from Eritrea, a country on the Red Sea in East Africa. He'd been born in Germany. His family came to Canada when he was seven.

Since leaving school, Awet had bounced from job to job, driveway ceiling being his most recent gig. Eklund says he wants to hear Awet's side of the story. There is no side of the story. I don't have nothing to tell you. I have nothing to tell you, bro. Go out on the street and go look for a nigga that probably trusts somebody. I'm fucking here telling you I have nothing to tell you, bro. Go out on the street and go look for a nigga that probably trusts somebody.

I'm fucking here telling you I don't fucking know shit, bro. Eklund isn't getting much from him. At one point, Awet complains that police humiliated him by arresting him at gunpoint. They take me from my house, embarrass me in front of the whole fucking street. Eklund had told Awet that they were investigating a first degree murder charge known on the street as an M1. Eklund says he needs Awet's help, needs information. I don't have no information, I'm telling you, bro.

At the end of the day, if you guys are charging me with a fucking M1, charge me with the M1. I'm right here, charge me. At the start, Eklund had given Awet the normal caution. He didn't have to speak to police. But if he did and he said something, it could be used against him. Eventually, Awet asked to see a lawyer.

He says he's done. Eklund leaves, joins his partner. They tell Chris that Awet is going to go free. That's the lying to get a confession tactic that I mentioned. Nothing illegal about it. Here's Detective Sansom speaking to Chris. Okay, this is the situation. This is a good choice. You will be charged. Okay.

You'll be charged with first-trial murder. And the buddy who actually did the shooting is going to walk. He's going to walk straight. Which is unfortunate from my perspective because it should not happen.

Chris doesn't bite. He just keeps saying he wants to go home. Later in the interview, Chris says he's going to be sick. They take him to a bathroom, then bring him back. Sansom says, look, we know you're not a bad guy. I'm not here to turn, you know, make you into a monster. I mean, you're not. You believe me? Yeah.

I'm only just a man. What do I care? You know? I'm 28 years on. I'm not here to impress anybody. I'm 20 years on out here, never pressing it by anybody to impress. I'm just looking for the truth. Now why did this happen, Chris? Why did it happen? Why does this guy have to die?

There's a sharp contrast between the two interviews. Awet was loud, confrontational. He wrapped it up pretty quickly. Chris was quiet, and he says less and less as the hours click by. But he keeps going, even though a lawyer had advised him not to speak to police. In the early morning, Sansom leaves and Detective Eklund comes in. It's been 18 hours since Kim Gollib was shot dead. Last chance, Eklund tells Chris, last chance to talk. Is what I believe true?

Because once I walk out of this room, Chris, and I want you to listen to me carefully here, okay? Once I walk out of this room, you don't get another chance. Chris says nothing. Detective Eklund leaves the room, wheeling his chair with him. Christopher goes to a corner of the room and lies down on the floor,

pulling the thin white sweatshirt close. A few minutes later, both detectives come back into the room and charge Chris Sherriff with first degree murder. They've already charged Awet hours before. Years later, I asked retired detective Sansom to explain his theory, the theory that led to a charge so quickly. So they were just driving by and happened to see the victim standing there on the road with his red quickly. 30 seconds in the making. You know, you pull over here, get the car running, and you know, I'll go do them and they'll be right back. I think it was as simple as that.

I tell him, look, all you had was a witness saying he spotted part of a license plate, a man running, and another guy driving the car. No forensics, no motive, no positive identification of either man, and certainly nothing to indicate gang involvement. Why lay the charge so soon? When we went to homicide, I was like, when I noticed was, these guys wanted, these guys want a mountain of evidence

before they lay a charge. And I was like, hey, I told them enough to lay the charge, all they had to charge. My case gets better as I investigate it, great. If it doesn't, well, we'll see what happens. But most times, your case just keeps getting better. So my style was, I'll just keep this thing moving, lay the charge, if I've got enough to lay the charge,

which we did that night. Local outlets covered the arrest. Here's a clip from CTV News. This past Sunday, 1.48 p.m., 34-year-old Bishan Golab was murdered on Mount Olive Drive in northwest Toronto. Eyewitnesses supplied police with information that led to two arrests. 19-year-old Christopher Sharif and 24-year-old Awet Asfaha were charged with first-degree murder.

The motive for the city's 37th homicide of the year is unclear. Was this a rush to judgment? A miscarriage of justice? Or a good arrest? And just, who was Chris Sheriff? Next time on Murder on Mount Olive... Oh my God. It was like, no, it was like, it was like, it was like, it was like, we were living, like we were, I was lost. I was just sitting there like, I had no feelings. I was just, I was just sitting there like,

like something, it's a dream. It still feels like a long nightmare, it still does. Murder on Mount Olive was written and narrated by me, Kevin Donovan. He was produced by Angeline Francis and Sean Patten. Our executive producer is JP Fozo. Additional production by Kelsey Wilson, Matt Hearn and Tanya Pereira. Sound and theme music by Sean Patten.