Timesuck with Dan Cummins - 509 - 13 Hours of Terror: The 2020 Nova Scotia Massacre

Episode Date: June 1, 2026

In April of 2020, while the rest of the world fixated on the terrifying early days of the Covid pandemic, a 51-year-old denturist in rural Nova Scotia launched one of the deadliest mass shootings in North American history — murdering 22 people across 13 horrifying hours while disguised as a Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer. We dive deep into the shocking failures, bizarre details, and devastating human stories behind these attacks: a case involving fake police cars, burning homes, biker gang rumors, domestic violence, smuggling, and a law enforcement response so chaotic it still fuels outrage and conspiracy theories years later. Merch and more: www.badmagicproductions.com  Timesuck Discord! https://discord.gg/tqzH89v Want to join the Cult of the Curious PrivateFacebook Group? Go directly to Facebook and search for "Cult of the Curious" to locate whatever happens to be our most current page :) For all merch-related questions/problems: [e-mail] (copy and paste) Please rate and subscribe on Apple Podcasts and elsewhere and follow the suck on social media!! @timesuckpodcast on IG and http://www.facebook.com/timesuckpodcast Wanna become a Space Lizard? Click here: https://www.patreon.com/timesuckpodcast. Sign up through Patreon, and for $5 a month, you get access to the entire Secret Suck catalog (295 episodes) PLUS the entire catalog of Timesuck, AD FREE. You'll also get 20% off of all regular Timesuck merch PLUS access to exclusive Space Lizard merch. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

What comes to mind when you think about Canada? Maybe it's hockey or maple syrup. Celine Dion, ketchup chips, beautiful natural landscapes, Ryan Gosling, Tim Hortons or Niagara Falls. Or maybe it's the Mounties, the Royal Canadian Mount of Police, long-time simple of Canadian law enforcement. I imagine that you, like me, if you think of them, conjure up an image of them in their traditional uniform, wearing their scarlet red wool tunic, a wide-brimmed brown felt stets and hat, high-brown leather riding boots, dark blue riding breeches with a bold yellow stripe running down the outer lakes. An enduring symbol of Canadian courage, competence, and justice.

Usually, but not today. Dear God, not today. Whatever it is that comes to mind when you think of Canada, it probably is not biker gangs, drugs and gun smuggling, and a recent mass shooting deadlier than all but five mass shootings in U.S. history, one that went on for roughly 13 hours. Today we deep dive into the tragic and what the fuck was happening. happening, 2020 Nova Scotia attacks, an event that would have gotten a lot more media coverage,

had it not coincided with the beginning of the COVID pandemic. This is the fascinating story of one man who snapped to a degree very, very few people ever had before, a man who also should have been stopped far earlier than he was, but wasn't thanks to the greatest series of law enforcement blunders I think I've ever heard about. Another crazy tale on this week's, why can't more people go quietly and not take others with him if they insist on exiting stage left before the end of their life's play true crime edition of time suck this is michael macdonald and you're listening to time suck well happy monday welcome or welcome back to the cult of the curious i'm dan cummins the master sucker

faith healer who's been tinkering around with harnessing the power of satan to heal you uh don't knock until you try it and you are listening to time suck hail nimrod hail lucifina The praise be to good boy bojangles and glory be to triple M. And it is June already. I mean, not for some of you space lizards. Listen to this early. But even for you, it's almost June and good news. We're all surviving.

Some of us are even thriving. If you're not thriving to die in! Really good news. Not a single one of you is dead right now. Not fucking one of you. I don't think. But I kind of hope at least one of you is now that I really think about it because that would mean that this podcast is being listened to by at least one ghost or zombie.

or perhaps a ghoul or something. I'll take any of those options. I'll even take demon. Actually, I prefer demon. If you're a demon and you listen to this podcast, please send me an email as opposed to, I don't know, revealing yourself to me in my room at night or fucking something coming out from under my bed trying to strangle me.

That sounds terrible. Speaking of terrible, I cannot believe this tragedy did not get so much more media attention than it did. And again, it's because it happened to go down when the, you know, world was being consumed by pandemonial pandemic fears, but still, it's just, it's a fucking insane story. This story would have been a huge, huge media sensation had it not happened to coincide with the pandemic.

And maybe it was covered much more in Canada than it was here in the U.S., but I don't remember hearing about this thing like much at all, just barely, like a blip in the news. It is a very unusual example of a mass shooting because the shooter in this instance did not kill all of his victims in one place. He went to a whole bunch of places. one right after another in quick succession with some sleep randomly thrown into the middle of it

over more than 13 hours creating so much confusion and pain so many fires set so many people who were probably shot before they even had the chance to process what was actually happening let's get into this before we really dig into the details

about the tragic events took place in 2020 that are so outrageous they read like a big budget thriller and not real life there are a few things we need to have a base understanding of that mind.

Here's how we're going to tackle today's topic. I do want to start by talking to you about your uncle again, Nancy, have you called anyone yet? Or are you just going to tell yourself that the reason he's always the oldest guy at the roller rink, usually by decades, is because he just has an exceptional love for and special relationship with roller skates? Your stubborn denial, disgust me, Nancy. It really fucking does.

That out of the way again. We're going to learn a little bit about the history of the RCMP. which stands for, of course, really cool mommy puss. No, it doesn't. That was just the weirdest, creepiest thing I could come up with quickly. That starts with the letters, RCMP. RCMP stands for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Maybe it also stands for really cool mommypuss.

I don't know what kind of acronyms you're thrown around in your personal life. We're going to start with a little bit about their history, how they function across Canada. Then we're going to set the scene further by examining the culture and overall ethos in Nova Scotia. And then right before we jump into our time-suck timeline, we'll learn more about our shooter. Excuse me. Talking about the perpetrator of this kind of violence is, you know, is tricky on the one hand. Learning about the shooter's history will give us a better perspective on the crime and maybe some understanding of the why behind their violence.

But on the other hand, too much attention to the perpetrator can come across as given infamy or perceived glory even to somebody who's committed these atrocities. And that could, you know, lead to others wanting to commit copycat crimes. In this case, I do believe some of the personal history is very relevant as I do here with a lot of. all the dirtbags we cover, and that it also doesn't excuse or mitigate any responsibility for the violence that occurred. And also, while he'll get, I guess, some more infamy, this dead fucking loser won't get any because he certainly doesn't deserve any. I don't think my take provides fuel for copycat crime, fire, because I consistently think

these assholes are pathetic cowards and losers. Anybody can take a fucking loaded gun and kill unarmed defenseless people, just like anybody could throw a fucking baby into a fire. or tape a bomb to a puppy. Doesn't take skill or intelligence or any kind of specialness to do super evil shit. Mostly just takes

in a moral disregard for human life, a sociopathic lack of empathy, a pathetic kind of victim mentality that allows you to think that just because you were abused or mistreated by some people that somehow gives you the right

to not only abuse but outright murder other people who in all likelihood never did shit to you or at least not enough to warrant their killings. Once we're all on this, the same page as far as context goes for this. Then we'll head into our time-suck timeline. And finally, after we learn what happened, that April, we'll talk about the aftermath,

the investigation, and the conspiracy theories that have sprung up around it. So now let's saddle up, learn about the history of the Mounties, the law enforcement agency that would eventually bring this guy down, maybe not quite as quick as they should have. The history of the RCMP is nearly as old as the history of Canada as a nation is. In 1867, Canada became a self-governing Dominion under the British North America Act, uniting its colonies into one federal country. And then the very next year, the Dominion Police were formed as a first federal police force with jurisdiction over the entirety of Canada built from the Western Frontier Constabulary,

which had been in existence since 1864. However, the Northwest Territories didn't quite yet have provincial status, and they were too large for the small Dominion police to cover, so in 1873 Parliament passed an act that allowed for the creation of the Northwest Mounted Police the original intention

was for the NWMP to be used only for a decade or two as a Canadian government further developed and expanded that eventually a bunch of dudes on horses would no longer be needed to patrol a big rural Wild West kind of area that they would be replaced by foot patrols and later officers and automobiles

however the NWMPP developed in such a popular Western institution, they were so romanticized in a sense and felt so especially, I don't know, Canadian, that the government in Ottawa decided not to phase them out long after the frontier conditions they were designed to provide law enforcement for had ceased to exist. So the NWMP quite unexpectedly emerged as a national police force in 1919 as the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Now, of course, they're not all mounted today. Most of them are not, but the name has remained. Legislation in 1920 came into effect. absorbed the Dominion Police into the RCMP, added federal policing in eastern Canada to the

RCMP's duties, and also moved the RCMP headquarters to Ottawa from Regina. Since 1920, the RCMP has been the policing agency for the Canadian federal government. Closest U.S. equivalent would be something like the FBI or the DEA, but that's not really entirely accurate because the RCMP sometimes, oftentimes also handles local policing efforts. really the RCMP is kind of like the FBI, the U.S. Marshals, state police, and local police all rolled into one in many jurisdictions. But that doesn't mean that local police don't exist in many places in Canada. Major cities like Vancouver, Toronto, and Calgary, they have their own independent, locally run police departments, such as the Toronto Police Service. In cities like these, you won't see the RCMP handling local 911 calls or routine patrols, but in a bunch of small towns and mid-sized cities,

the local municipality will often contract with the RCMP to act as their local police force. In these areas, the RCMP performs the exact same day-to-day duties as a standard city police department. This is one of the main reasons that the RCMP has become so synonymous with Canadian law enforcement. They're fucking everywhere. Back in 1928, the federal government started to lease the Mounties out to the provincial lower-level governments at a loss. The deal was that the federal government would subsidize the cost, of policing at 60% if a province used the RCMP. The only ask for this subsidy was if needed the RCMP could be called on by the federal

government to assist with federal investigations or national emergencies. Out of the 10 Canadian provinces, eight chose to disband their police and utilize the RCMP instead. Ontario and Quebec declined. The Ontario provincial police and the Chateau du Quebec both strong. established institutions blocked contract mouties from their provinces. In Nova Scotia, where our tragedy took place, there are 10 local municipal police forces in larger towns and cities like Halifax.

But in a lot of the small towns, where our killer was killing, there was only the RMCP, or RC, my gosh, the acronym, RCMP, I want to flip it around. And it would be on the RCMP to bring down the shooter. But now let's look more broadly at Nova Scotia. Nova Scotia, one of Canada's 10 provinces. On the east coast of the country and continent is a part of the Maritimes region, a region that includes Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Prince Edward Island. The land is the ancestral home of the meekmac people who name the area Mick Muggy.

Today, First Nations people make up just 5% of the population, and also randomly, at least to me, Nova Scotia has the largest Scottish Gaelic-speaking population outside of Scotland itself. I didn't know there was any Scottish Gaelic-speaking population. in the world, actually. It's the only place in North America, where Scottish Gaelic has been continuously spoken as a community language since the late 18th century. I guess that makes sense because Nova Scotia is Latin for New Scotland. Here are some other random facts, some history about Nova Scotia. It's been called Canada's Ocean Playground because of approximately 13,300 kilometers slash 8,264 miles of coastline.

With so much ocean, Nova Scotia also home to 12 whale species, including the incredibly rare and endangered North Atlantic right whale, 50,000 tons of lobster roughly are hauled from Nova Scotia's waters every year. Historically, Nova Scotia's industry has been tied to the sea. There are also over 23,000 kilometers, over 14,000 miles of roads in Nova Scotia, and many of them are small, rural, and unpaved. So many roads for the shooter to sneak around on certainly helped him avoid capture.

Also, Halifax has about half of the province's population, approximately 545,000 people, nearly 1.1 million live in the entire province. Outside of Halifax, Nova Scotia is considered to be incredibly rural, as is most of Canada. Residents sometimes called Nova Scotians, but have also sometimes referred to as blue. nosers since 1760s, a term that likely refers to early Nova Scotian sailors who would be out in the cold weather and get a fucking blue nose.

Or from early settlers who would eat a lot of blue potatoes and herring. Italian navigator and explorer John Cabot became the first documented European to sail along Nova Scotia's coast way back in 1497. French colonists established the first permanent European settlement many, many years later in 1605 at Port Royal, which became known as a Acadia. The British followed and obtained control of the region between 1710 and 1758, establishing Halifax as the new capital in 1749. So it's been around for a while. Nova Scotia was one of the founding four provinces to join the Confederation with Canada in 1867. And for the entirety of its existence, most of Nova Scotia has been seen as being pretty fucking backwards by a lot of people. Cue deliverance banjo music. Yeah, the cult Canadian mockumentary series Trailer Park Boys,

that's set in Nova Scotia. The fictional Sunnyvale Trailer Park, which is specifically located in Dartmouth, Halifax, Nova Scotia, based on real people and places in Nova Scotia. Mike Clattenberg, the creator, is from the suburbs of Halifax, and he and the actors drew inspiration from the,

let's say the culture of local chronically unemployed and other unflattering archetypes specific to rural maritime eastern Canada fucking love trailer park please Ray can you not throw your dirty old piss jugs around please Hey dad got you some more piss jugs Oh excellent buddy right on man Ray there's gotta be a better system than this pan in jugs You're gonna make Barb lady man Bart doesn't care bubs it's an empty lot

It's all right out in the open. Just guys throwing fucking piss in the bushes around the trailer park. A lot of the ethos of the trailer park boys is about constantly committing dumb crimes, drinking too much, getting arrested a lot. You know, not doing shit to raise your kids properly, et cetera. And I will say the shooter's childhood does read like a collection of darker trailer park boys episodes in some ways. Nova Scotia also has a reputation for being a very welcoming, friendly place to live, but also has a long history with motorcycle biker ganks. As of 2021, there were 14 known outlaw motorcycle gangs operated in Nova Scotia. Infamous Hells Angels hitman, David Wolf Carroll is from Nova Scotia,

was once the leader of the Halifax 13th Tribe, motorcycle club gang. The Hells Angels still have a large presence in the area, even though their official chapter was shut down by law enforcement. There's a bunch of support clubs for them there. Other notable MCs include the Highlanders, the Red Devils, the Niners, the gatekeepers, Bacchus. In recent decades, it seems that these clubs have made most of their money in cocaine trafficking, extortion, and weapon smuggling. And the Nova Scotia massacre shooter connected for sure to some of these scary fucking dudes.

Just about 130 kilometers slash 80 miles from Halifax is the small unincorporated community of Porta Pic, where the attacks originated and the shooter was living. It sits right near the mouth of the Portopic River near the Bay of Fundy. Port-a-Pic Beach Road, PBR, is the only official way in and out of this little community. PBR is a winding gravel road that runs from highway to, or as the locals call it, the paved highway, far more, for more than a kilometer down to the waterfront. There's about 50 dwellings in the neighborhood, including many trailers and shacks. Majority are seasonal. During the summer, about 250 people might call Port-a-Pick home, but that number drops to around 100 during the winter.

The big industry in Porta Pic had been pickling Shad, a cousin of herring, and sending it to market down the coast in Boston. But a bony fish like Shad couldn't compete with meaty, apparently succulent scrod as the appetites of Bostonians began moving up the food chain after the First World War. I've never heard a scrod before. But I got to say, I do love a flaky white fish, and they look fucking delicious. Now the big market for Shad is as bait for lobster. And Shad, they don't look nearly as good as scrod. Both names suck, by the way. It sound like venereal diseases.

Shad are super duper bony. Local native legend is that they used to be porcupines and an old local fisherman's poem is When the Lord made Shad, the devil was mad Or it seemed such a feast of delight. So to poison the scheme, he jumped in the stream and stuck in the bones out of spite. There was once a large dance hall on PBR

That was busy enough to need a parking lot They could hold 250 cars, But then it closed in 1975 and left a pretty big hole in the area when it came to fun community shit for locals to do. Currently, there are no commercial licensed bars or pubs in Portipic, but back in 2020, it was the Black Bear Lodge. Black Bear Lodge was a large 3,200 square foot building

named after a wild bear that the owner had nurtured as a cub and still hand-fed Tostitos to right out of the bag whenever the bear turned up in the yard. A banner touting Miller-Genuine draft hung behind the bar, framed by two, diagonally mounted five horsepower outboard boat motors, the dusty taxidermid head of a moose. So canadian, with a modest rack of antlers oversaw everything from its high spot above. The bar sat only six people. A bubble gum machine stood for those who might want to chew after the brew off to the side.

There was a small blackboard that read Leases bar, often written in chalk. Along its walls, the warehouse was decorated with mini bikes and dirt bikes and other collectibles. off in a corner sat the owner's pride and joy a replica Captain America model Harley Davidson from the classic 1969 movie Easy Rider. And why am I talking so much about this weird little hole in the wall bar? Well, because the owner of Black Bear Lodge and four other properties in Porta Pick

at the time of the shootings was 51-year-old Gabriel Warfman. And that was the man, he is the man, who would start a 13-hour killing spree that would leave 22 people dead and another 3-injury. And now before we dive into the timeline of the actual shooting. Let's get a feel for who Gabriel was. His parents, Paul and Evelyn Wartman,

married on December 16th, 1967. Gabriel was born on July 5th, 1968, less than seven months after his parents' marriage. Scandalous! Clearly the devil lived in the Wartman home. Four premarital fucking was afoot. For shame! Paul and his four brothers, Neil, Glenn,

Alan and Chris grew up in what's been described as an abusive household. Paul was the second oldest. one of Paul's brothers, his older brother, Neil, told global news a series of stories about his father and his abusive ways.

He said, I soiled my shorts. He made me put the soiled shorts on my head inside out and told me to start knocking on doors and neighbors to show them what I had done because I refused to go. He beat me instead.

That's fucking insane. Imagine shitting your pants as a kid. Right? You're already humiliated. It's clearly an accident. And then your dad's like, huh you see your pants fuck what well you gotta wear it on your head now

wear your shit on your head I gotta do this I gotta make you understand how serious this is wear your fucking shit on your head like a hat and then go show the neighbors they need to know they need to know they live next to an honest to God shit head

wouldn't be great if monsters were real like creatures in the closet or under the bed type monsters but they only attack people for doing terrible things like that like their role was to collectively give humanity a lot of incentive to be nice. And when you did something like make your son wear his own shit on his head, they ruthlessly

attack you. Unsurprisingly, after growing up at a home like that, Gabe's dad, Paul, also became an abusive father. He was reportedly both physically and verbally abusive to his wife Evelyn and their son, Gabriel, maybe sexually as well. Family members have told stories that

include Paul Vernon Gabriel's favorite blanket in front of him when he was just two years old because he'd become too attached to it. What the fuck? and also forcing Gabriel to shoot the family dog at the age of 10. I'm fucking kidding me. I said, I'm fucking candy.

Right, Miles? I know. I wonder if dad was mad because he had also become too attached to the dog. Enough, Gabriel! At times if I told you to stop pet that dog so much, playing fetch with it. Oh, now you're letting a cuddle up in bed with you? Not in my house. Not raising some pussy.

I will not have an emotionally well-adjusted child living under my roof, and a happy dog as well. I'm a miserable fuck who hates myself, and I want you to hate yourself too. So shoot the fucking dog or I'll shoot you. I really do hate so many people in this world, just truly. I just, sometimes I think that if I was given the opportunity, just to murder around, I don't know,

70 to 80% of the world's population, I just think the remaining, you know, 20, 30% would just be so much happier. Actually, I should probably take that back. That's exactly the kind of mentality that turns somebody into a mass shooter. Let me say, I would like to, seriously punish 70 to 80% of the world's population.

Maybe with a lot of spankings. A lot of fucking hard bare bottom spankings with paddles. Follow-up spankings if necessary. And maybe some people who, you know, just refused to come to reason. Well, maybe those people get spanked to death. I should probably move on. Gabe's dad, Paul, was an industrial salesman who moved the family around a lot, both Canada and the U.S., sometimes leaving Gabe with his grandparents, other times taking him along. And this is fucking weird.

in 1970, Evelyn had a second child, son named Jeff, who they just quietly and quickly put up for adoption, something Gabe did not learn about until he was 40 years old. Gabe would meet Jeff in 2010. What is the story there? Did Paul just not want Jeff because he wasn't actually the father? Did he not want him because he hated kids? Didn't want his wife getting detached to another one.

I don't know. Two of Paul's brothers would join the RCMP, and once Paul took a 14-year-old, Gabe to see his uncles in a big ceremony, he became obsessed with the RCMP. For a while, he wanted to join their ranks. Sometimes he also wanted to kill members of their ranks. But he also, like, collected a lot of their stuff. Collected uniforms, collected replica vehicle, badges, all kinds of stuff for many, many years.

And now let's learn a little bit more about Gabe's childhood before we move on to his adult years. His uncle Neil, when interviewed following Gabe's shooting rampage by the Mass Casualty Commission, this commission assembled by the Canadian government to try and figure out why Gabe did what he did and how the RCMP had fucked up so badly in trying to stop him. They found that when Gabe was a young boy, quote,

Neil said he would trade with younger children and cheat them. Neil didn't specify what Gabe traded, but he thought he did that to boost his ego. And he also said that Gabe used to draw attention to himself by, quote, making explosives as a little boy. He would take heads off of math, matches, bind them with an elastic, throw them on the sidewalk, and watch them explode. And his time went by and he got older, they became more sophisticated, right up to the point

where he could make a pipe bomb. Neil heard that Gabe actually once blew the window out of his mom's car with one of his pipe bombs. He said that Gabe's dad, Paul, was a dark influence on him, not a good dude. The gay watched his dad beat the shit out of strangers in public over nothing, mostly road rage, it seems, on multiple occasions, that he also frequently bragged about stealing and, uh, and stole in front of him. Neil said, quote, Paul had a coat that he sewed,

I don't know how many pockets inside that coat, long, long coat. Go into the grocery store, fill him with steaks and things like that, high-priced items, it's all, he was always into something like that. Gabe's uncle Chris also talked to the commission, and he said of his nephew,

he was always kind of a strange little guy, never known to have a friend. He had a difficult upbringing. Like I said before, his father and mother, you'd have to meet them. I could describe them, but you'd have to meet them. They're very bizarre, very strange.

And as a result, Gabriel was too. You know, there's a lot of dysfunction. There's a lot of dysfunction in the family in total. But his is really bad. Just his father is just, maybe he shouldn't have been a father is the best thing to say. You know what I mean? And give Gabriel credit, he never had a child, and he knew.

He had no intention of ever having a child. He knew. Chris would go on to recount a time when Gabe was just seven years old. and his dad Paul put a loaded gun in his hands and told him to shoot him with it. The fuck! So many people are so dysfunctional. Uncle Chris referred to his nephew as a career criminal

who was just like his dad that quote, the apple didn't fall far far from the tree. A girlfriend gave date when he was in his maybe late teens or the 20s, interviewed by the commission, only identified by the initials of EE, said Paul confided in her

that he had been sexually. abused as a young child by both his father and one of his uncles. She didn't specify which uncle. Another girl he dated, identified only by the initials of B.D. described Paul as a high-functioning alcoholic. Paul was also directly interviewed by the commission. He denied abusing Gabe physically or sexually, but did say Gabe was raised in a violent home and that he yelled at him a lot.

Also said that when Paul was around 30 years old, he apologized for abusing him growing up. He said that right after he said that he hadn't abused him. No, I never abused him. I never abused him. But then when he was like, I don't know, 30, I apologize to him for abusing him a lot growing up. Not going to lie, Paul doesn't come across as very bright in his interview. He seems about as dumb as a fucking bag of rocks. Gabe, according to Paul, didn't really care for his dad's apology.

He beat the shit out of him. While the family was on a big vacation down in Cuba, he said, quote, he straddled me on some kind of a picnic bench or something and started pounding the hell out of me. I was actually unconscious. I don't know how much he hit me after that, but I remember waking up, and there was a couple of a staff

were pulling him away. And then he was in a rage like he was going to fight them. And then the manager comes out. And I just, everybody realized this is out of hand. So that was that. And then a bit later, he added, my face was pretty smashed up, lost a bit of vision in one of my eyes.

But there's no scars on my face. I love how he was trying to find the silver lining In that at the end I mean yeah Yeah I can't see it in my left eye Damn near beat me to death in front of my family But you know No scars, so no foul

As far as I'm concerned Gabe's uncles heard about this Uncle Glenn said Paul and Evelyn Gabriel and Lisa And that was his long time girlfriend, common-law wife Lisa there

were together in Cuba And they had an argument of course Gabriel was drinking And Gabriel took a turn Got violent He beat the living show out of Paul. Paul didn't even defend himself. He just took it. He said, I deserve this. And he did deserve it. He beat the living shit out of him. I love that story. And again,

it does feel like Gabe was raised by characters from the trailer park boys. This is our fault, Ricky. No, no way, boys. I mean, it's a bit of a shame, but they were just too fucking stupid to survive. Happens all the time of the animal kingdom when you think about it. Dumb rakins, stupid birds, crazy squirrels, porker picks that get hit by cars and... Borka Pips. ...helms over-control population. The things that are fucking stupid.

Falls into a pond. I mean, those guys basically just cocked themselves over and fucked up. It's not our problem. Survival of the fitness, boys. Survival of the fitness boys. Fucking love these guys. Uncle Glenn also told investigators that on the evening of Tuesday, June 1, 2010, a decade before the mass shooting, Gabe told him he was going to drive from Nova Scotia to his

parents place in New Brunswick and kill him. Glenn said he helped talk him out of it, get into agree that they weren't worth it. Several of Gabe's uncles would recall this and recall talking to Gabe when he was setting on shooting both his parents dead. I'll talk more about this in a bit, getting a little bit ahead of myself.

Despite what some of his uncles have said, it does seem like Gabe had some friends in high school. Pierre Little, a former friend and publisher of a main newspaper, remembered Mr. Warpman from those days. He wrote shortly after Gabe's death. about how the two of them used to, quote, shoot his machine gun air pellet or BB gun. I can't remember which behind his house, quite a rare air gun for the 80s.

Mr. Warpman's high school girlfriend, who wished to stay anonymous, when interviewed by the New York Times, said she was shocked by the news as the man she had grown up with was kind and, quote, always looking out for the underdog. She said he was always so happy, just never angry. Finally, she said that during high school, he was known as the Wheely King. For the Wheelies, he would often do on his dirt bike. racing past the school. And again,

and again, I think of the trailer park boys. Oh, there's a, there's a Wheatie King, boys. Uh, 1906, when Gaye was 18, he started studying at the University of New Brunswick. His peers there would describe him not nearly as fondly as a few kids from high school. They said he was arrogant, argumentative, and obnoxious,

just basically a real prick. Uh, also three major things happened. All Gay was a student at, uh, at the university there that we know of. And I will tell you all about them right after today's first to two mid-show sponsor breaks. If you don't want to hear these ads ever again, you can sign up to be a space lizard on Patreon. Help us make monthly charitable contributions. Get the catalog ad free.

Get episodes three days early. Access all the secret suck archives and more. Thanks for listen to our sponsors. And now let's check out the three major things that happened while Gabe was a student at college there that shed some added insight into his character. The first notable thing is that during this time, Gabe started going on smuggling runs between Canada and the U.S. Typically, these runs were for cigarettes and alcohol, but may have also sometimes included other items like guns.

Smuggling runs would become a lifelong endeavor of his. Also at UNB, Gabe lived in Bridges House, this dorm, this residence hall, home to 100 male students where apparently he failed to make friends with a single one of them. every one of those students who were tracked down and interviewed fucking hated this guy. His housemates said that Gabe would do things like piss on the shared bathroom floor just to be a dick. This leads to the second important incident from his university days. Every April, Bridges House would give out the Chuck Crosby Award, otherwise known as the, quote, asshole of the year award.

Not speaking highly of Chuck there. To the biggest, most unlike loser and resident. crazy that they had an actual award for that. I love it. Historically, this award was used to keep residents in line with their behavior and actions. Like, you didn't want to get it. You know, you might hear somebody say something like, don't leave your fucking trash in the common spaces.

You're going to get the Crosby. This award was handed out during a major party with something that residents look forward to all year. I mean, yeah, I bet. I bet they typically razzed the shit out of whoever won that bad boy. Well, choosing Gabriel Wartman for the Chuck Crosby, not a wise move. He deserved it.

I'm sure he did. But he was not a good sport about it. He was fucking furious. He aggressively complained to the administration, a lobby in the university to put an end to his public humiliation. In the end, the university terminated the award. They, it sounds like they made him,

people apologize to Gabe. And that made everyone hate Gabe that much more. His housemates, other students, actually exploded in anger. They smashed windows in Bridges' house, smashed shower stalls and bathrooms. A bunch of valuable items were ripped off of the walls is roughly 400 students rampaged,

just a drunken rampage through the campus protesting this cancellation. It was called a riot in the news. It actually was published in newswires across Canada. The final major event that happened during Gabe's time at UNB was the deep friendship he made

with a New Brunswick lawyer named Tom Evans, a man twice his age, 19 years older than him. Some sources say that Tom Evans was a longtime family friend. Others seemed to kind of indicate that he just happened to meet Tom

when he's at school. Whichever, you know, of those is the truth, I guess doesn't really matter. During that time period, he and Gabe became very close. Like,

very, very close. It is alleged that Evans and Wartman had a sexual and perhaps even romantic relationship. And let's pause our look into Gabe Wartman to learn a bit more about his buddy Tom Evans.

Evans was creepy dude. According to one source, the 2022 book, 22 murders investigating the massacres, cover up in obstacles to justice in Nova Scotia by Paul Polongo, quote, he was an enthusiast and gun aficionado who had been convicted of careless use of a firearm for shooting at skeet targets near a children's Bible camp, nevermind convictions for tax evasion and selling liquor to minors. In 1986, Evans filed a complaint with the police that a 19-year-old male prostitute whom he had regularly hired for sex had assaulted him. the young man was acquitted. According to Gendalongo's book, quote, In 1989, the New Brunswick papers were full of stories regarding the arrest of five South

American, not a conspiracy to break a pair of Colombians at a jail. The two men had the unfortunate luck of crash landing their plane packed with 500 kilos of cocaine at an airport just outside of Fredericton. The Colombian cartel that owned the cocaine had sent the five men to Canada to either spring him or kill them as Colombian drug cartels are wont to do. two of the five men were represented by deliciously shady better call Saul type by the name of Tom R. Evans. In 1990, Evans was convicted of applying a 17-year-old boy with alcohol, less than half his age, quote, seducing him against his will. So, raping him. He spent three years in jail, never practiced law again.

Seven years after Evans was convicted of that sexual assault, Warpman purchased the Fredericton apartment building where that assault occurred, according to provincial mortgage and court documents. Wormann then allowed Evans to continue to live in the apartment for free in exchange for collecting rent from other tenants, paying the bills and doing some maintenance work. Tom Evans would remain close with Gabe Wartman until Evans' death in 2009, at which point he would leave everything to Gabe in his will. And that included cash, real estate, a Ruger Mini-14 semi-automatic rifle, one of the guns Wartman would use during his rampage. people who knew both men have said the pair traveled frequently to the United States together and then smuggled cigarettes, alcohol,

and probably other illegal items such as guns, back across the border using a sailboat, Evans owned, one that Wartman inherited. Warpman's uncle, Glynn, who shared an apartment with Evans when the pair first met, said that he knew Evans was a bad influence

and that at one point he tried to warn his nephew's parents saying, quote, I said to his parents, get Gabriel the hell away from Tom Evans. He'll only get him in trouble. So strange pairing these two. Now back to Gabriel after graduating from UNB. Gabe's first post-college job was working as a mortician.

Pretty creepy in hindsight. After a little while, he switched his profession to becoming a denturist. Some close to him say it was only because there wasn't enough money of being a mortician. And Gabe was apparently very financially motivated. So what is a denturist? Well, according to denturist.org, it is a dental health care professional who provides denture care, directly to the public. A denturist is an independent self-regulated professional. Denturists are recognized as being experts in the provision of complete and partial dentures.

Directly to the public. I would define a denturist quite a bit more simply as a person who builds fake chompers for real mouths. I mean, that's a gist right? In the early 2000s, after becoming a denturist, Gabe moved to Porta Pick, opened his denture clinic right in town. Around that time, Gabe met and began a relationship with a woman named Lisa Bannfield. maybe bisexual i don't know uh lisa would later be interviewed by investigators who were part of the same mass mass casualty commission that interviewed Gabe's uncles

and she would say that she thought Gabe did not like women quote because of his mother because growing up his mother really wasn't there for him at all like she she was battered from Paul and abused but yet she enabled a lot of the abuse to go on she witnessed it Banfield added that according to Gabe his mother Evelyn quote didn't protect him from Paul at all

I mean, at times even Gabriel would tell me that in school, like if he did something, he would tell Evelyn and say, you know, don't tell. And he called him Evelyn and Paul, by the way. He never called them mom or dad, ever. And she would tell on him all the time, knowing that he was going to get beaten or whatever. And then she said she was sorry, but she kept doing it every time so he couldn't trust her. He never trusted anybody what he said his whole life. He never trusted anybody was what he said his whole life. Lisa said that as a result of this, Gabe, quote, had no research. respect for women, no respect for his father.

It is always interesting when these guys, and we've come across this so many fucking times, right? Like serial killers, mass shooters, they're typically men and they're typically guys with mommy issues. And so often, like, dad'll be abusive. Mom won't protect them, but they'll mostly then be mad at mom, which is a really fucking weird take. Not that, you know, what she's doing in the situation is good, but you should definitely be

mostly mad at dad in this situation since he's, I don't know. the guy doing the fucking beating. Right? Isn't that fucking worse than not protecting somebody for being beaten? Neither are good but the one person isn't actively going out of their way to just fucking hurt people. Crazy. I guess it's just, I don't know,

somehow just easier for a lot of guys to be mad at mommy. Interestingly, in hindsight, right after Gabe moved to town, number of small fires started popping up in a number of commercial spaces. The boy who loved making bombs apparently still love to see some destructive heat. At the time, Gabe was

obsessed with acquiring property, particularly in Porta-Pic. He was never charged with any type of arson, despite being strongly suspected in many, but he did buy at least two of the burned properties at a very reduced price on October 29, 2001. And that same day, the now 33-year-old man attacked a 15-year-old boy who was standing at the bus stop out in front of his new property, not on his property, just next to it. Gabe allegedly yelled, you're too close to my building. And then he started punching and kicking this kid. The boy told a reporter for Global News, quote, then he had a friend who came over

from around the corner, hit me with the crowbar. Then the two men stomped on my head and all over my body. Holy shit. Gabe was charged with assault, his first criminal conviction outside of a 1997 speeding ticket.

Warbman pled guilty to a minor assault. The judge approved the plea bargain, gave him a conditional discharge and placed him on probation for nine months. Fine to meager 50 bucks. Ah, absurd.

Fucking the crazy soft punishment for violence will just never cease to annoy me. There's two more incidents from Gabe Wartman's past, I should mention, for I methodically walk you through his 20-20 killing rampage, minute by minute, hour by hour. In June of 2010, Gabriel Wartman met his brother, his half-brother,

Jeff Samuelson, not his half-brother, full-brother, full biological brother. Jeff Samuelson, the kid who'd been placed up for adoption back in 1970, shortly after his birth, as I'd mentioned, according to author Paul Polongo, quote, the occasion was a birthday party for their father. Paul Wartman, a man, Mr. Samuelson, had met only a few months earlier

after spending years trying to track down his birth parents. But instead of a feel-good gathering and the beginning of a new relationship, the Porta-Pic reunion quickly dissolved into an ugly fight between Mr. Wartman and his elderly father over title to a property, according to a number of people at the party. Police were called

after the denturist threatened to kill his father. Halifax Police investigated Gabe for making death threats and being in possession of illegal weapons, but then strangely never pressed any charges. Following this incident, Gabe cut ties with his parents, completely and permanently.

He would hang up on them if they called, and he told his girlfriend, Lisa, to not speak with them either. And then finally, there was an incident in 2011 when he threatened to kill an RM, or, yeah, RCMP officer. Sounds like the police learned about the threat thanks to some tips from family members

who asked not to be identified. On May 3rd of that year, a warning about Gabe's threat to kill an officer was distributed to law enforcement agencies in Nova Scotia through a criminal intelligence service Nova Scotia Bulletin. Sergeant Pure would write the following day in a report, I feel that this is a viable threat to police.

I contacted the perpetrator's father, Paul Wortman, and Moncton, asked him if he has seen or spoken to his son lately. Paul advised that he saw his son early in the year at a hotel in Moncton where property was signed over to the perpetrator. The Warpman family is very dysfunctional, and Paul advised that he and his wife have not seen nor spoken to the perpetrator since the hotel meeting. Paul advised that he is very concerned

about his son's mental state The perpetrator is a heavy drinker He is extremely intelligent and very wealthy And even though Paul does not associate with his son Paul feels that the perpetrator still has weapons In the Portipic cottage Officers spoke with Gabe after that But then again no charges filed

And okay I think we have a pretty good picture Of what Nova Scotia is like now And who Gabe Warpman was Before he would make national and global headlines Dude had a lot of anger He was prone to violence, was raised in violence, had a very dysfunctional upbringing and current family situation,

may have been confused as to his sexual preferences, talked seriously about killing people, and then in 2020, he fucking snapped. Holy shit did he ever. Let's look at exactly how in today's time-suck timeline. Shrap on those boots, soldier. We're marching down a time-suck timeline. Saturday, April 18th, 2020, early evening.

Canada's been in a lockdown due to the COVID-dunctue to the COVID-19 pandemic for about two weeks. Shit has just gotten really weird for Nova Scotia and the rest of the world. Everyone's more stressed out than normal, right? We're all wondering what's coming next. How deadly is this virus? How crazy are people around us going to get? Will the stores be shut down? Will we be able to buy enough food to survive?

This might sound dramatic. a lot of you, but I remember around here, a lot of people get real apocalyptic during those early weeks very quickly. Getting very paranoid. People literally getting into physical fights at the grocery store over toilet paper and eggs and milk. I remember having a hard time finding ammo because it quickly sold out all around town. Early this evening, Gabriel Warkman has a unnamed local woman over at his Black Bear Lodge, and the two are drinking heavily and fooling around. This a woman who is not Gabe's longtime girlfriend slash common law wife Lisa Banfield,

but someone he apparently had an on again, off again relationship with not named in sources. Gabe allegedly has this woman talked into combining two of his favorite things, a strip tease and dressing up like somebody in the RCMP. Seriously, quite the Saturday night, right? A lot of hail Lucifina.

She was giving him a strip tease wearing an RCMP uniform while also laying on top of a replica RCMP patrol vehicle that he owned. This car had been made to look like a nearly perfect copy of a patrol car complete with a light bar, insignia decals, its own fake fleet number,

28B11. Is that how you expected this tragic night to begin? Yeah, me neither. Sounds like he should have been pretty fucking happy about how his life was going that evening. At around 9 p.m., the local Nova Scotia RCMP office posted to their Twitter account at RCMPNS.

The tweet was decorated with a gift depicting a sleepy, great tabby cat, lying on a bed and wave and wave and good night. It's Saturday and our hashtag 9 p.m. routine is complete. That means we get to relax for the evening and sleep in tomorrow. Are you done with your hashtag lockup? When you are, share this post. More than a year earlier, the RCMP had begun promoting hashtag 9 p.m. routine, a program actually developed in 2017 by the Pascal County Sheriff's Department of Florida. At 9 p.m. every night, the Mountie sent out a tweet or a Facebook post, encouraging people to avoid

becoming victims of crime by locking and securing their cars, homes, and garages at night. This was not something that they had just started due to the pandemic. It is unclear exactly what happened between Gabe partying at his bar with his lady friend at 9 p.m. But around 9 p.m., Gabe, drunk by the sounds of it, got into an argument with and then violently assaulted his living girlfriend Lisa Banfield. She'd gone to bed early that night, and then he had woken her up, dragged her out of bed, pushed her into the back of a decommission RCMP vehicle, right? That same replica

cruiser that he had just been used for the striptees a few hours earlier a fucking crazy turn of events but again he's drunk and according to a lot of people dude had a bad and unpredictable temper. He just never knew what might set him off. He handcuffed Lisa in the back of the cruiser, told her that

if she tried to escape he was going to kill her. Like most police cruisers, the front and back are separated by plexiglass and the back doors do not open from the inside. And this replica was legit. Lisa went on to write a memoir titled First Survivor about her relationship with Gabe and also this fateful night. So let's hear about how this rampage began to unfold in her words. She said, I don't know how long I was in bed when I heard him return from the warehouse. I heard a weird

whooshing sound. What's he doing? I pretended to be asleep when Gabriel opened my door. If I ignored him, maybe he would just leave me alone. But he didn't. He stood over my bed and began screaming at me, get up. He ripped off the blanket, exposing my name. naked body. I was alarmed, but tried once again to redirect him as I pulled the covers back up and told him to go to bed. This time, he persisted and kept yelling at me to get up. He was in a mood, and he wanted to fight. This was not going to be good. Without warning, he took my laptop from my bedstand and smashed on the floor. Gabriel, what are you doing? I screamed. Furious, I had moved as he had commanded. He grabbed my cell phone and did the same thing, but this time crushed it

under the weight of his boot. Something within him snapped. He yanked the blankets off me and grabbed me by my hair, forcing me to the floor. He got on top of me and started choking me. My instincts took over and I tried to stay calm. Gabriel, it's okay. I'm sorry. I said, get up. He ordered me.

I'm done. I was trying to talk him down. Gabriel, what's wrong? What's happening? He wasn't having any of it. Oh, you stubborn bitch, he said. You got a little beula and gilly and you. Then he pulled me up by my hair.

I tried cradling my head to ease the excruciating. tension of my scalp. As I stood up, he kicked me in the stomach, sending me backward onto the corner post of my bed. The solid log post of the Amish pine frame offered no flex, as I felt and heard my lower back crack. I dropped to the floor, wincing in pain, and lost my breath. Stunned, I froze. I wanted the beating to stop. Get up! He barked at me again. I tried, but it was so painful. Before he could hit me again, I found my inner strength and used the bedpost to get up as he demanded. Still naked, I braced myself before he hit me again. Get drunk. Get rest, he yelled. He opened up my closet door. I'd grab whatever I could get on quickly,

a pair of tights in the thin black top. Let me get my purse? I need my purse, I said. You don't need your purse, he yelled, grabbing me by the right wrist. He tied something around it. I think it was from a bathrobe belt in my closet. I'm not sure, but it was a soft material. I couldn't think clearly or process what was happening. Let's not forget my gun. I need my gun, he said, in a calm, matter-of-fact way. He dragged me around the house. We went through the kitchen to his bedroom. Be careful, it's slippery, I heard him say. Are you kidding me, I thought? You just beat the shit out of me?

Now you're worried I might slip? He walked past the open safe that contained $60,000 without taking any of it. He was in his own zone as he entered his bedroom. He grabbed his black handgun, tucked in a nook of the adjoining sunroom. We walked down to the landing by the front door where he picked up a jerry can of gas and threw it into our sunken living room. I put my bare feet into my sneakers when, in a calm, eerie robot state, he said, turn around.

And as I did, flames erupted. It was surreal. I knew he had lost his mind. Gabriel would never damage the home he took so much pride in creating. I had to get free. I had to run. Still tether by the robe belt or whatever it was, we moved from our deck to the driveway. He doused our white decommissioned car with gasoline but didn't light it.

Instead of screaming at him, I tried to stay calm and offered him a way out. Gabriel, it's okay, I said soothingly, even though it was anything but okay. Gabriel, I'll tell them I accidentally started the fire. I'll take the blame. It'll be okay. Please. Please, Gabriel, don't do this. It's too late, he said. You'll never look at me the same way. He pulled me to the road as the flames engulfed our home. I dug my heels into the gravel, trying to slow his pace. Gabriel, please don't do this. We can get through this, I pleaded. It's too late, Lisa. You told me if I ever hit you again, you'd leave. I'm done, he said. I dropped to the ground and tried to kick him away. He ripped my sneakers off, threw them in the opposite direction on the road. You can't run now, you little bitch, he said. I didn't know how to stop him. He'd gone too. far needed help. At the end of the night, I'm going to die, he said coldly. You won't die as long as you don't run away from me. His eyes darkened, stark and distant. I didn't see Gabriel anymore. It was like there was no light in them. Forcing me to my bare feet, he dragged me across the road to the entrance of the woods. I cried out in pain. On the path back to the warehouse,

adrenaline kicked in. I thought if I could just get out of my unzipped coat and run, I could escape. He wanted me to go in front of him. I knew this path as well as him, but in the dark I struggled to get my bearings. I reacted instinctively, shifting my shoulder. I got out of my coat and fled. I couldn't see anything. I tripped over some kind of root. I tried to hide, but he had a flashlight, so he found me instantly and grabbed me. My stomach churned as he confirmed my worst nightmare. He's going to kill my family. My back throbbed. He ignored my moans as he thrust me forward. I didn't cry. I stayed silent so as not to anger him further. As soon as we came to the driveway, he released me. Don't move. His eyes said at all. I watched in horror as he

poured gasoline on all our cars, the white Ford F-150 and his backhoe. He calmly unlocked all the dead bolts and opened the warehouse doors. Once we were inside, he grabbed us at a handcuffs from behind the bar. Give me your hands, he said. Gabriel, you don't have to do this. Please, I begged. He cuffed my left wrist. Give me your other wrist. He was on a mission and couldn't be stopped.

We're going to burn down the Dartmouth Clinic and then we're going to Marines, he said. Dear God, if he's going to kill my family, just kill me now. I dropped to my knees and covered my face with my hands. A shot rang in my ears. I'd never heard a gunshot up close. It ricocheted off the cement to the right of me. Give me your other hand, he demanded. Gabriel, please don't, I said hysterically.

I'm not going to tell you again, he said, give me your other hand, and then another blast at the floor on the left side of me. Terrified that my head would be his next target, my entire body numbed. I lost hope. Perhaps exasperated by my refusal to move, Gabriel grabbed my arm and pushed me into the backseat of the replica police cruiser,

slamming the car door as he walked away. He tossed guns into the front seat, passenger side. I panicked. I'm trapped. At least I had the use of my hands, but I needed these cuffs off. I struggled to free my left wrist without success. There were no door handles in the back seat, so I kicked at the partition in the front seat.

I kept kicking with my bare feet while he was out of sight. The plexiglass didn't break or crack. I thought, if I'm to survive, if I am to survive, I will need to use my hands and get this cuff off. I felt confined and restrained. Desperate. I kept clawing to get the handcuffs off my left wrist. My skin was breaking beneath the metal of the cuff.

I have to escape. I stopped moving when I saw him come in from the outside. He didn't even look at me as he went upstairs to the loft apartment. Almost trans-like. My body stilled. I retreated to the innermost safety of prayer. Miraciously, I finally ripped free of the cuffs. My left wrist bled from the fresh claw marks.

I still have the scars as a lifelong reminder of my terror and survival. Fight or flight. I did both. I reached around the window divider on the passenger side, but the plexiglass didn't bud. I tried the other side and suddenly it gave way. By the grace of God, there was just enough of an opening for me to get through. I crawled into the front seat and opened the driver's side door and then I ran for my life. Knowing he was still up in the loft, I bolted straight for the woods

to my right. There was no windows on that side so Gabriel wouldn't see me. I managed to get through our property line to where I saw a truck on our neighbor's property. I didn't want to involve anyone else, so I went to the truck there. I checked the back door and it was unlocked. I jumped in and quickly looked around for something warm to wear. The dome light came on and I I freaked out that he was going to see me. But within seconds, the light dimmed. I was freezing. As I reached around, I felt nothing but tools. Then I saw a neon vest, but I definitely didn't want that. My heartbeat was racing beyond my breath. I couldn't stay here. If he lit fire to all of our vehicles, what if he did the same thing to this one, I thought? I jumped out and dashed into the woods.

The spindly trees whipped about my face and head as I tried to move deeper into the forest. I was terrified that every branch cracking beneath my weight would give me away. I crawled on my hands and knees in order to get through them. The tide of the on my wrist trailed behind me and kept catching on twigs and branches. I pulled it off. With no light but the moon, I kept moving in my bare feet, winting in pain, explosions like firecrackers filling the night air. My ears were hypersensitive to every unfamiliar sound, and I dragged my body for what seemed like forever. Finally, I came upon a falling tree trunk with big roots. Thank you, God. I crouched like an animal in its hollowed opening. Gabe, luckily, did not notice her escape

before he set the warehouse on fire and burned it to the ground. She will hide in the woods by that tree trunk all night, you know, wearing little clothing. And the next day, Banfield will tell police that her common-law spouse had devolved from a, quote, loving, kind, and generous man when they had first met,

into a moody and violent partner who since 2003 had routinely assaulted her. She said, quote, in the past he was abusive, and I would appease him and say whatever I could to make it stop. She told the RCMP, she didn't report to abuse because, quote, she didn't want to get him in trouble.

And in hindsight, I wish I would have, because maybe this wouldn't have happened. Vanfield, then 51 years old, just like Gabe, described other beatings at the cottage, saying her spouse's explosive anger was typically triggered by small disputes. Before this last assault, she said the last time she'd experienced domestic violence at his hands was three years earlier. So weird, right? He had been relatively calm for three years, and then holy shit did he just fucking snap. Was he worried? The lady who had stripped for him was going to tell Lisa and then she was going to leave him?

Lisa, unsurprisingly, will be asked by numerous investigators if she had any inkling that Gabe was going to go on this shooting spree. She is consistently denied that she had any idea he would ever do such a thing. She knew, obviously, that he was violent. She had been the recipient of that violence, witnessed him be violent towards others, heard him say plenty of crazy shit over the years, heard him talk about, you know, threatening to carry out violence against various members of his and her family for years. But mass shooting, she claims he never said anything that would indicate he was thinking about doing that. She said regarding his other victims, I had absolutely no idea about his intentions or his reasons for killing any of them. The only hint she seems to have ever given as to what made him snap was COVID.

She said he was paranoid during COVID. He talked like a crazy person. but he hasn't to my knowledge specifically said what crazy things he was saying okay after set most of his shit on fire maybe looking around for Lisa but maybe not Gabe then drove that police car to a neighbor's house

the Blairs at approximately 10 p.m. I drove over there in his replica RCMP car wearing a replica RCMP uniform and those details are very important fucking terrifying and now the 13 hour mass shooting begins Let's take our second of two mid-show sponsor breaks before I jump into the details.

Thanks for listening to those sponsors. Hope you heard some deals you liked. And now let's return to the night of April 18th, 2020, Saturday night, when Gabriel Warfman snapped in rural Nova Scotia and drove over to his neighbors in a cop car wearing a cop uniform and heavily armed. Greg and Jamie Blair lived just up the road with her two young sons, ages 10 and 12. Greg and Jamie were well-liked in the small community. Friends and family called Jamie Chicken, some sort of endearing nickname, I guess.

A couple ran a business together selling and installing propane and natural gas equipment across much of Nova Scotia. It was just days before Greg's 46th birthday, and the couple had just paid off their mortgage. Earlier that evening, the Blares had hosted two Port-a-Pic neighbors over for dinner. With new COVID-19 restrictions in place, they'd eaten steak and potatoes on a table set up in the garage with the doors open, allowing the cool spring air in. They had plans to burn some brush. They'd cleared earlier in the day, make a little bonfire to close out a solid Saturday.

But then that all changed when Gabriel Wartman arrived at the property and shot Greg on the deck of the house. And I should add, no one has come forward to say that this couple and Greg were on bad terms, even remotely so. The boys were playing video games when they heard Jamie, or excuse me, the boys were playing video games when they and their mother Jamie

all heard Greg yell, what the fuck are you doing with the gun? Right after that, from just outside of the house, they hear a single gunshot, and then hear a body hit the deck. In an instant, Greg has been killed, mere steps from his front door. Jamie then grabbed the boys,

pushed them down the hallway, then they all ran down into the boys' bedroom where Jamie, you know, shut the door, called 911 at 10.01 p.m. She was the first person to alert the RCMP to a problem in Porta-Pick. She stayed on the line while shielding her sons from the gunman

to the other side, you know, who was on the other side of the bedroom door. you know, very quickly. The boy's half-brother, 27-year-old Tyler Blair, who was not there that night, will later say, my two little brothers hid behind the bed

and Jamie put her back up against the interior door of their bedroom. He just shot right through it. For whatever reason, Gabe never entered the room after shooting Jamie dead through the door. When Tyler later went to the house

to collect some of Greg and Jamie's things, he said he found at least eight bullet holes through that bedroom door. He said, quote, there's one that actually went through the mattress of the bed where my little brothers were hiding and probably missed them by about a foot.

Right? How fucking terrifying for those kids. After witnessing their mother die and after hearing their family dog be killed and the family cat be shot to death in the living room and also, you know, they've just heard their fucking dad be shot to death. The young boy soon realized the gunman was trying to set the house on fire. The older boy found logs from the wood stove

strown across the floor. The propane stove was on with hot dog and hamburger buns thrown on top near the flaming elements. So they bolt through the woods towards their nearest neighbor's house. the home of Lisa McCulley to seek help. Lisa McCulley was a 49-year-old elementary school teacher who was very involved with her church and the kind of person you could call if you were in trouble.

She'd moved herself and her two kids to Port-a-Peak, or Port-a-Pix, excuse me, to be closer to nature. When she was not playing guitar, she was spending her free time hiking, doing yoga, or just playing with her kids. The Fifth Estate, a Canadian investigative documentary series that airs on CBC, obtained some footage of Lisa,

playing her guitar and singing with her kids not long before she died. Oh man, so sad. Earlier this evening, she'd enjoyed the saltwater air during her nightly ritual at this time, which was a peaceful walk along the shore. She loved living in this area. She actually lived directly across from the Wartman's Garage, though dense spruce trees usually blocked the view of anything beyond the driveway. and the metal gate he normally kept locked.

She noticed the flames from his garage burning, left her two kids home after she put them to bed to see if she could go help in any way. Right? So extra sad. She literally died going to help the neighbor who would kill her. Clearly she wasn't worried about him. Again, the two apparently had no bad blood between them, at least none that she knew about.

Gabe saw Lisa approaching, shot and killed her around 10.08 p.m. while driving away from the Blair property, guessing she walked right up to him thinking he was a cop. She was fearless. She was your classic mama bear. She was so protective of everyone, said her sister, Jenny Kirstie. Kirsteat said it was reassuring, or Kersted, said it was reassuring to learn from the police that her sister had at least died instantly.

Apparently she had been shot in the head. The Blair children arrived at the McCulley's and were led in by Lisa's kids just a little while later. All four children then hid in the basement under the stairs and called 911 at 10.16 p.m. A RCMP dispatcher tried to keep them calm, told him to wait. for someone to come rescue them. These kids would be alone in the house, would not be evacuated for more than two hours. What the fuck?

Why did it take the RCMP that long to get them out of there? That's a question a lot of people have had. Shortly after Gabe killed again, there was a third call placed to the RCMP. Andrew and Kate McDonald, a couple who lived up the road, jumped in their car to get a closer to look at Gabe's garage fire and called 911 around 1025.

in a statement to a police private investigator hired by some of the family's victims to try and find out what exactly happened that night. Families infuriated by the RCMP, the response to the tragedy. Andrew said that while driving to see what was going on, he in case spotted an RCMP vehicle, parked in front of his neighbors, Frank and Don Gullochin's blue house at the top of Orchard Beach Drive. He said he told the dispatcher that it appeared that an RCMP officer was already on the scene, but he found it strange that the car was empty and the roof lights not on. Andrew and Kate continued down the road towards the fire as they got closer they realized it was coming from Gabe's garage. Andrew said he thought about calling Gabe and telling him, but then remembered Gabe did not have a cell phone. Andrew and Gabe were friendly. They've been neighbors for nearly a decade. Andrew said that they would have a beer together now and then,

talk about working on cars and motorcycles. After seeing the fire, Andrew and Kate turned around, went back up the road, still on the phone with 911 where the operator was trying to transfer them to the fire department. They stopped in front of the gullichens or Galenchin's, excuse me, a house noticed somebody was now in the cruiser. Over the cop car and through the kitchen window, the whole kitchen lit up on fire fast, Andrew said. Like fast. So we kind of thought something's wrong. Not very often you see two fires at once and like, why is there a police officer here?

He said. It didn't make sense. But Andrew said the dispatcher didn't tell him what had been going on despite two other previous 911 calls, having been placed letting the RCMP know that there was a fucking gunman in this neighborhood, killing people and burning shit. Months later, Andrew told a private investigator that he was still frustrated, infuriated, that he and his wife had never been warned about the danger. He said, so there's 20-some minutes before we called,

and they should have told us to get the fuck out of there, but they didn't. Why didn't the dispatcher know to tell us to get out of there because people are getting shot? Great question. When all the details of this came out, basically nobody was happy with how the RCMP or, yeah, RCMP handled this. essentially it appears like that they flat out had not been prepared for something like this and we used to do a mostly sleepy non-emergency police work and got complacent and just completely fuck this and who said that he and his wife kate started to drive back towards her house and then

they noticed somebody in uniform was in that rcmp car and that person started to drive towards them the car pulled up beside the couple and he said i rolled down the window to tell the rcmp officer that one we're not lighten the fires and two were on the phone with 911. Andrew said that was when he saw Gabe Warkman was in the car that he was wearing the uniform and Gabe started to fire on them with a handgun. He said, we ducked quickly and I got shot in my forehead, went through my arm. My wife was okay, but at that point I saw Gabe, I saw his gun,

he had a laser sight in the gun and thank God he did because if not, I wouldn't have seen the handgun at all because it was dark. Despite being hit twice, one bullet through the shoulder, the other grazed his forehead. Andrew managed to drive away. and then around 1026 he encountered the first actual RCMP officer on scene. I told the RCMP officer right away, it's my neighbor Gabe, Andrew said. I told him he had an RCMP car. I knew he had those cars, but I'd never seen them badge.

So that's when I first told him it was him in the car. The constable he told us to would then immediately relayed that information over his police radio. So now the police definitely fucking know that a guy dressed like a Mountie, driving a car that looks identical to one of their cars is for sure shooting people and burning shit in this area and still they do not put out a safety bulletin. They don't warn fucking anybody, not even other officers what is happening.

By this point, Andrew said there were now three officers on scene, the first to whom he had told the information, the second who checked his gunshot wounds to make sure he was okay, and a third who took him and his wife to the end of the road to wait for help. Backing up a little bit, directly after killing Lisa McHulley and two other neighbors, Gabe drove his police cruiser south to the home of still more neighbors, 70-year-old Joy Bond and her husband's 70-year-old, or 74-year-old,

excuse me, Peter Bond, at about 10, 10 p.m. Joy and Peter had moved in 2007 to their retirement home in Porta-Pick. Joy had grown up in Back Bay, New Brunswick, had worked at a local sardine plant there. One day, she saw a truck driver waiting by himself to unload a delivery, I thought he was cute, offered him some dinner while he waited, and that led to a marriage spanning more than four decades. Right. Adorable.

The bond's adult children say that after 40 years of being apart for long stretches of time, due to Peter's job as a truck driver, the couple were doing everything in retirement together. They were closer than ever, even more adorable. We don't know exactly when Joy and Peter were killed. The RCMP would not find their bodies for about 16 more hours. They died inside their home, though. we don't have many details about another couple

and their child that Gabe killed either shortly before or shortly after the bonds. 39-year-old Joeline Oliver and 45-year-old Aaron Tuck had moved with their 11-year-old daughter Emily May to the area in 2014 into a house they'd inherited from Aaron's father. Jolene and Aaron both struggled pretty heavily with mental health problems and alcoholism.

They lived off the grid in their small home. They were very hermody, but there were also great people who loves 17-year-old Emily immensely, right? Who doesn't have some fucking problems? Aaron and Emily had spent more than a decade together restoring a 1977 Ford Pinto that was going to be hers on our 18th birthday, which was right around the corner. She loved working on cars so much she planned on a career as a welder. When Emily had some problems in school, Jolene thought learning to play the fiddle might help her out,

so she got her some lessons, and the fiddle became a huge passion for Emily. Both the bonds and the Oliver slash tucks knew Gabe as a neighbor, just like with the bonds Gabe shot Aaron Jolene and Emily in their home also did not set fire to their house

not to either of these houses Emily Tuck was still alive at 10.03 p.m. Now was the time she sent her last text message to a friend before Gabe arrived and before she knew she was in danger. Family's bodies also would not be found

until the late afternoon of the next day. After these additional five murders, Gabe retraced his route and drove north past his blazing warehouse and the Blair McCulli homes toward Don and Frank

Galenchin's house Galenchin's house more neighbors, right? More neighbors he had zero known problems with. Just like he fucking decided to kill everybody in his neighborhood. 65-year-old Don Madsen and 67-year-old Frank Galenchin had moved to Porta Pic just a year

earlier. The couple had just built their dream retirement home with Frank doing a lot of the renovations himself. They were looking forward to a quiet life where they could enjoy nature and spend a lot more time with family. But then Gabe entered their home, shot and killed them both, and set fire to their fucking dream home so that nobody else in their family could ever have it. Madsen spent just over two decades working at the Hillsdale Terraces, long-term care home in Oshua, Ontario, until her retirement in 2019. Her former boss, Spotsie Dublin, would tell CBC News.

The residents there held a special place in Madsen's heart. She showed them that kindness and respect she had for them. When she came into the building, her residents were her family. She treated them exactly like they were her family and like they were her best friends, said Dublin. She was like a beam of sunshine. Madsen worked in the home's food service department. She and her husband Galenchen had dreamed a retiring in Nova Scotia and spent years saving up for a home they wanted there. During Madsen's last year at the home, said Dublin the couple were apart with Galenian working to fix up the place they hoped to finally enjoy when Madsen retired.

She worked so hard to be able to have that home that they had wanted for their retirement. and now that they're together, this would happen, Dublin said. Right, just more great people sensibly killed by a guy who would truly become the definition of a deranged gunman. I wonder if he chose all these people because he just knew they were good people and likely to come out unarmed to talk to an officer. Even if that officer was their neighbor, a guy as far as they knew was not an officer, but there were people who would be easy kills for him. Shortly after they died, as I went over earlier, some other nearby neighbors, Andrew and Kate McDonald, who lived on Porta-Pick Beach Road, ended up driving over to investigate the fires and Andrew got shot but survived. Directly after shooting Andrew now, Gabe turned south down Porta Peak Beach Road, away from Highway 2, and the responding RCMP members.

So within 30 minutes of the first fatality in Porta Pic, the RCMP has received 3-911 calls about an active shooter situation. Additionally, Jamie Blair, the Blair and McCulley Children, and Andrew and Kate McDonald had all identified Gabriel Wirtman by his first name and provided other ideas. identifying characteristics such as that he was a neighbor and a denturist. These callers each said that Gabe had a police car and Andrew at the very least said he was dressed up as a mounting. So they provided tons of identifying information, right? They also like said that the who this guy was, Gabe, one of their neighbors is a denturist. But important information from these 911 calls would not be passed on to responding officers or or captured within text based incident logs produced by call takers and dispatchers. Why the fuck would the RCP be so

dismissive regarding the clear information coming from Porta-Pick community members that the perpetrator is driving a fully marked car, you know, a police car, dressed up like a fucking cop, local denturist, none of that shit gets properly logged or communicated. For some reason, a priority was placed on determining whether all RCMP vehicles in Nova Scotia were accounted for at that time to rule out the possibility that any of those vehicles was involved in the critical incident. Instead of just, you know, taking the witnesses word at face value and getting an important bulletin out. In short, they just didn't seem to believe eyewitness accounts. Absurd and embarrassing.

After shooting Andrew McDonald in his car, again, back to that now, Gabe drove to 293 Port-a-Pic Beach Road, the home of 58-year-old Joanne Thomas, and 69-year-old John Zoll. It's now approximately 10, 28 p.m., still less than 30 minutes since the first murder, and approximately 90 minutes since Gabe woke up

his common-law wife, Lisa, and started abusing her. Joanne and John had moved to PBR You know that place on the PBR road from New Mexico in January of 2017 After purchasing their dream home Joanne retired early from a career in health services John was a U.S. Navy veteran who'd served his country as a Russian linguist They've been married for 34 years Friends and family said they truly loved each other

More fantastic people Both have been active in multiple projects involving helping the homeless In both Albuquerque and Nova Scotia They'd become involved in volunteering in their community in Nova Scotia pretty much immediately after their arrival. They were always looking for ways to improve the lives of others. They'd been instrumental in revitalizing a laundry project at their church in Truro, Nova Scotia. They'd made the project more than just a place for the homeless through their laundry.

They ensured that those using the service had home-baked treats, good conversation, that they knew that other people cared about them. Joanne also served as a board member for T-R-E-Y trauma recovery for exploited youth. tray. Their house was immediate neighbors with another property that was owned by Gabriel Wartman. Gabe entered their home, shot and killed John and Joanne before also setting fire to their house. And then he quickly killed again. Forty-year-old Corey Ellison and his brother, Clinton Ellison, also in his 40s, were visiting their father, Richard Ellison. Richard, not a dick. Good dude. The three men had heard gunshots around 10.30 p.m. stepped outside to see what

was going on. They saw flames and smoke. Corey decided to go see if he could help. Corey called his dad to let him know that a neighboring warehouse was on fire, another one of Gave's warehouses at 10.36 p.m. Why the fuck is he burning so much of his own shit? Just so no one else can have it? He took some photos of the fire with his cell phone. After leaving the Thomas slash Zol residence, Gabe had driven his replica cruiser down a trail through the woods on his property from the southern portion of Porta Pic Beach Road to his warehouse at 136 Orchard Beach Drive. Remember, despite all the miles and miles of roads in Nova Scotia that I mentioned earlier,

this is a neighborhood with only one official road out, and there are now officially RCMP on the scene. They've been there for almost 15 minutes, but still zero fucking warning to the community has been issued. They're not setting up proper roadblocks. No one who has spoken with the police have been told that, you know, shooter is going berserk at approximately 1040 p.m. now gave encounters Corey Ellison just south of the driveway of his warehouse and fatally shoots him. The shots that killed Corey were heard and reported by the

Blair and McCulley children who were still on their call with 911. Friends and families say that Corey was thoughtful, a kind person who went out of his way to help others. He was also legally blind, but that didn't keep him from his passions with sports and outdoor activities. He loved fishing, archery, shooting sports, the NFL and music. and he died attempting to help a neighbor in trouble. After shooting Corey, the 13th person he has killed unless in 45 minutes, by the way, Gabe drove down a dirt track that was known in the community

as the Blueberry Field Road at around 10.40 p.m., driving along, excuse me, an unmarked unofficial road that runs alongside a blueberry field. Within five minutes, he had access Highway 2 and then drove east towards Great Village. Meanwhile, at 1044 p.m., R.C.MP staff sergeant, Brian Redhill began to give directions to secure the perimeter. Officer Redhill instructed Officer Chris Grund, who was on routes to seal off Highway 2 at Hillview Lane, east

of Portipic. However, at about the same time, Officer Jordan Carroll and Officer Jeff Campbell were also radioing in that they were approaching Porta Pic from the West, and there was evidently a bunch of confusion as to which officer's officer Redhill was directing his instruction to. So they just keep fucking this up. No containment point would be established on highway to east of Porta Pic until just after midnight, 12.1 a.m. April 19th. Before that, at 10.48 p.m., Officer Colford, broadcast by police radio information provided by Ms. McDonald, that there might be an alternative route out of Porta Pic. However, the broadcast was not heard by members then traveling toward the scene, nor by RCP dispatch, nor by any

supervisors who have been engaged by this point. Just fucking par for the course. Honestly, what the fuck is happening. It feels like, and I know it's easy to judge all this from my computer years after the fact, but this feels like this was all of these officers first day on the job. The replica, RCMP Cruiser, was captured on video surveillance camera in Great Village at 10.51 p.m. Great Village about 10 kilometers or six miles from Porta Pic. At 1055 p.m. Clinton Ellison was concerned that his brother hadn't returned home, so he goes outside to look for him, discovers his brother's dead body. He's concerned the killer still in the area. R.C. MP, immediate action rapid deployment iA rd responders they observed light from a flashlight around this time

from south of them on orchard beach drive uh they suspected this person later determined to be clinton ellison was the perpetrator the members took up defensive positions on the lawn of the mcnoli residence mr ellison turned off its flashlight fled into the woods fearing the shooter was hunting him the ia rd responders began to follow him but then having lost sight of him and concerned about the possibility of an ambush they just give up none of this is making the rcmp look even remotely competent. They can't even track down the wrong fucking guy when he runs off from me. He starts to run away and they're like, nah, it's too dangerous to follow him. It's dark out there. It's scary. Uh, so far, they literally could not have fucked all this up more than they did.

It's just giving strong like Keystone cop vibes. After receiving a call from Clinton from the woods, his father, Richard Ellison, phones 9-1-1 at 10.59 p.m. Almost exactly an hour after the shootings began. He reported that multiple fires and explosions were occurring on Orchard Beach Drive and that his older son had just contacted him to say that his younger son Corey had been shot. At 1110 p.m. now, Gave's replica RCMP cruiser is captured by surveillance footage again, later recovered by the RCMP, entering the DeBurt Business Park. He had hit his vehicle behind a welding shop and he'll just stay here overnight, get himself some shut-eye. All this wanton murdering, pyromania really tucking him out, I guess. Baby boy needed some sleepy sleep, little widow napy poo. Five minutes later, the RCMP stops actively searching for gay, stating that they have no further indication of his likely location. This is what a few sources say. I want to think this is incorrect, but I'm not sure that it is. I mean, it does kind of feel on brand.

All right, ladies and gentlemen, let's get some sleep. It's too dark out there to find any shooters. All the best law enforcement professionals know that you can't find people at night. It's hard because it's hard to see them, you know what I mean? So how about we just look again tomorrow and just hope that, uh, you know, you know, he doesn't kill anybody. In the meantime, it's just get some good sleep. We'll have a nice old brecky, get some scamby eggs, maybe some maple bars. Let's start over.

At 11.32 p.m., the RCMP communicated with the public through Twitter. This is their first tweet. Their first tweet, right? It's merely states that they are dealing with a, quote, firearms complaint. Understatement of the fucking century. They do not mention the RCMP uniform and replica police vehicle details. They don't mention the fires.

They don't mention any of the murders. that don't mention the possible likely identity of the shooter who has been named. They don't fucking mention the fact that they haven't caught or located an active shooter. It's a firearms complaint. And people are advised in the area to remain in their homes because of the firearms complaint.

Well done, Mounties. Well done. At 12.25 a.m. April 19th now. Early, early Sunday morning, late Saturday night. RCMP officer Chris Grun uses Lisa McNulli's car to finally drive those poor four hiding, hiding traumatized kids to the Great Village Firehole, where a waiting area has been established for ambulances

and other non-police emergency responders. Those poor fucking kids, left alone for hours after the parents were shot. At 543M, jumping ahead now, Gabe Warpman leaves his hide in place behind the welding shop after getting that shut eye, right? Just, ah, just stretches out. Okay, let's go get some more fire and murder done.

Almost an hour later at 6.30 a.m., his common-law wife, Lisa Banfield, finally feels safe enough to leave her hiding spot in the woods near Gabe's warehouse. She seeks help at a nearby house. She calls police, tells them about Wartman's replica cruiser uniform assault, right? It's fucking definitely this guy. I live with him. It is Gabe Wartman.

This is the address. This is the car. These are the guns. All the fucking details. Five minutes later, RSCMP officers arrive and talk with Lisa. He performed a cursory medical exam. Describe her as having no visible serious injuries, although she was in a, quote, state of terror.

And it had a distraught, disheveled appearance. Yeah. She was having trouble walking because the lower back pain suffered as a result from the perpetrator's assault on her was mildly hypothermic. She again describes Gabe's replica cruiser. Says, you know, this is what Gabe is driving. This is what he's wearing. This is what he looks like. These are his guns.

Every fucking detail you could possibly need. This is where his properties are located. And apparently, she also told him that he had all sorts of replica uniforms, not just RCMP stuff, but fire responder uniforms, you know, all kinds of things. He'd been collecting shit, or first responder uniforms like firefighter, excuse me. But he'd been collecting all kinds of shit for as long as she had known him. Dude was weird. Also at 6.35 a.m. Gabe arrives at the home of Alana Jenkins and Sean McLeod on Hunter Road in Wentworth.

This is about 40 kilometers or 24 miles from where he had hit overnight. Also about that same distance from Porta Pick. So he has not traveled far at all, actually. He is still very much in the same area, driving the same fucking car, wearing the same clothes. 36-year-old Alana Jenkins and 44-year-old Sean McLeod, both longtime employees of Correctional Service Canada. Alana worked the Nova Institution for Women in Truro,

and Sean worked at the Spring Hill Institution. Alana was heavily involved with St. Francis Xavier University and their forensic psychology program. This was something very near and dear to her heart. Loved helping to mentor students there. She would find time to balance her demanding job, being a correctional officer and a correctional manager with volunteering and making time for friends and family as well.

Sean's brother says that on the day Sean was not at work. You could typically find him outside hunting, getting dirty while lobster fishing, or just relaxing in the river behind their house. He loved his time in the kitchen, cooking and baking everything and anything as well. Sean's brother also said that Sean and Alana were both constantly doing whatever they could to make life a little easier for those around them.

They were a father and stepmother to two daughters, both of whom would go on to say that they were tremendous parents. Sean's daughter, Amelia McLeod, has said, quote, I wouldn't be who I am without him, like I grew up going fishing, hunting, like he taught me everything. They were really caring, selfless, loving, fun. More good people. So many good people. And just like the others, they were also familiar with Gabe.

Sean had met Gabe through a friend in Porta Pick, both he and Alana had socialized with Gabe on a number of times in the past. And again, no one has come forward to say that there was any bad blood between them. Their family doesn't know why Gabe would have targeted. them, or what he did during the three hours apparently he spent in their house following killing them. God, I know I keep beating this drum, but that is what is so especially insane about all this. It doesn't appear at all that he was targeting people he felt wrong by or had vendettas against, but he was targeting people he knew. Gabe entered the Jenkins McLeod home, shot one of their pet dogs in addition to shooting and killing both Alana and Sean.

Dude was killing so many fucking pets, too, just didn't give a shit. He then stayed as I referenced. at their home for just over three hours. Nobody knows why, before stealing Sean's wallet and then set in their house on fire. The house completely burned to the ground, destroying most evidence to the point where there is no way to determine a definitive time of death for Alana or Sean.

At 7.55 a.m. that morning, while Gabe is just taking his time, chilling in the Jenkins and a McLeod home, the Mounties confirm that the replica RCMP of his is not, in fact, among the vehicles currently found at Gabriel's properties and Porta Pic. Great work, guys.

Holy shit. Great work determining that the car, numerous witnesses, have said he's fucking driving around in, isn't still sitting at his house and not being driven. Incredible! Promotions for everyone! At 8.02am, a second RCMP public communication about all this is released on Twitter.

It reads, You know, this shit rope is rubbles? There's a rope covering shit. Criminals try to hold on to. Then a minute later, another tweet, went out and said, listen, Randy, the whispering winds is shit. They're coming. Shit hawks, Randy.

Big ones swooping down, shitting on people. Drag them off to the big shit nest. And then finally, two minutes later, you boys have loaded up with double barrel shir machine gun. And the barrels are pointed to your own heads. Wait, now, those were all quotes from a drunken officer Leahy from the trailer park boys. No, the real RCMP tweet was, public communication number two.

This April 19, 2020, 8.02 a.m, Twitter, hashtag R-C-M-P-N-S, remains on scene in hashtag Porta-P-P-P-P-P-E. This is an active shooter situation. Residents in the area, stay inside your homes and lock your doors. Call 911 if there is anyone on your property. You may not see the police, but we are there with you. Hashtag Port-A-Pick. Glad they fucking finally mentioned an active shooter. What didn't they mention? They didn't mention he has been seen in uniform, that he's driving a car that looks like one of theirs. Pretty important fucking details. Two minutes later, a be on the lookout, Bolo notice is sent out to RCMP members, stating that the perpetrator is potentially using fully marked for Torres car number 28B11 and could be anywhere in the province. Great work. I remember that the first witness is to the violence and told officers that Gabe was dressed like a Mountie, driving a car that looked like a Mountie cruiser, and yet this is the first time the information being shared to other law enforcement officers.

Officer Bruce Breyer's broadcast a message. to all RCMP members, that, quote, we're looking for a potentially white, fully marked PC, 28 Bravo 11, please wear your hard body armor, the rest of the duration of your shift today, just in the event you come across this vehicle. Still seems hesitant to accept that the writing on the wall is in fact real.

Corporal Heidi Stevenson asked RCMP operational communications if a media release with details of the replica cruisers should be issued to the public at 8.44 a.m. 10 minutes later, a third tweet is released. It includes a photograph of Gabe, but does not provide info about the replica cruiser or say he's in uniform. Fuck you fucking idiots. The tweet read, public communication number three, April 19, 2020, 854 a.m. Twitter. 51-year-old Gabe Warpman is a suspect in our active shooter investigation in hashtag Porta-Pick.

There are several victims. He's considered armed and dangerous. If you see him, call 911. Do not approach. He is described as a white man, bald, 6-2 to 6-3 with green eyes. photo attached. 912 a.m. Similar social media message

posted by the RCMP on Facebook. Right? It just says a lot of the same details. 8.50 a.m. 70-year-old Tom Bagley left his home on foot for his usual morning walk along Hunter Road. Tom had enlisted in the Royal Canadian Navy at the age of 15.

He'd signed on for 10 more years with them at the age of just 17. He went on to serve on ships including the HMCS St. Laurent or St. Laurent, the HMCS Marjorie and the ship. He was the most of the most. most passionate about the HMCS Bonaventure.

After leaving the Navy, Tom began his career as a crash rescue firefighter at the Halifax International Airport, where he would remain for 31 years. During that time, he also volunteered at both the Enfield Volunteer Fire Hall and the Elmsdale Volunteer Fire Hall for approximately 20 years of service. Just an outstanding human bee. Tom had typo negative blood, was recognized by the Canadian Red Cross for donating over 50 times. His community said that Tom was known for his kindness, his compassion, and skill as a storyteller. As Tom approached the Bernie McLeod Jenkins home, just a quarter of a mile from his own, Gabe Warp

shot and killed him. Joey McBurney calls the Oxford RCMP detachment to express concern that he could not get a hold of his neighbors, Sean McLeod and Alana Jenkins at 9.19 a.m. The attachment phone line, not staffed at that moment? And Mr. McBurney's call is put through. to 911. Mr. McBurney informs the RCMP, 911 operator, that Sean McLeod knows Gabe Warkman and that he is aware of the events

in Port-a-Pick and explained his connection to Greg Blair, one of Gabe's victims from the night before. The 911 call-taker replied that he would pass along the info and that Mr. McBurney might get a call back. This call was not logged on the RCMP's incident activity log,

and the info shared by Mr. McBurney was not dispatched to the command. or two responding members. Just another head scratchy move. After eating Sunday breakfast on April 19th, 65-year-old Lillian Campbell Highslop, put on her safety vest and got ready for her regular morning walk from her home near the corner of highways 4 and 246

down to Old Station Road. About 10 kilometers or six miles there and back. Lillian and her husband Michael had retired to Wentworth in 2014, about a 30-minute drive from Port-Apick. Lillian had worked as a nurse at White Horse General Hospital and then later for the Yukon government in its health services branch. She also sang Alto in the church choir. Lillian and Michael raised sled dogs before retirement

were very involved in the mushing community. Michael had once managed the Yukon Quest, a thousand-mile international sled dog race that runs every February from Fairbanks, Alaska to Whitehorse. In later years, both he and Lillian volunteered at the race, which could take 10 to 16 days to complete over exceptionally rugged terrain.

neither Lillian nor Michael were aware of what was going on with Gabriel Wartman that morning, in large part because the R.CMP had done an absolute shit job warning anyone of the danger in their midst. Around 9.34 a.m., Gabe either drove across the highway or made a U-turn, stopped near Lillian, took aim at her head with his laser sight, and just fucking blast her, killing her instantly. Just killing as many people as possible. She was his 17th victim in about 11.5 hours now. Mary Ann and Reginald J were Lillian's neighbors Mary Ann looked at her window, saw an RCMP car

slowly turning around, heading south toward Truro. Then she noticed a body lying on the side of the highway recognizing the clothing she realized it was Lillian. Marianne ran outside to the side of the road, quickly concluded her friend was dead, ran back in the house, called 911 to report the incident. The 911 call placed at 9.35 a.m. Despite the potential danger,

Marianne and Reginald remained on Highway 4 with Lillian's body until an RCMP member arrived on the scene. Oh, and also the RCMP does not send out a new alert, even though they have been given new information that the dude in the squad car is continuing to murder people. According to the inquiry report and the law enforcement incompetence that would come months later, 9.40 a.m. is when the RCMP command group

fully grasped that Wartman had escaped Porta-Pick, that he was driving a very realistic replica RCMP cruiser, and that he was killing and threatening community members in the Wentworth area. Holy fuck, these guys. clearly not a group of geniuses. By real slow, by 940 a.m., a draft tweet describing the replica RCMP cruiser, and including a photograph of the vehicle,

had been prepared by the strategic communication units and forwarded to Staff Sergeant McCallum for approval. McCallum did not reply, likely because he was responding to the Wentworth Homicide Dispatch, or maybe he was fucking busy and joining some delightful Tim Horton's cinnamon sugar timbits, which are definitely not just regular old donut holes, given a name rebrand.

the request for approval was forwarded to Acting Inspector Halliday at 9.45 a.m. Approval granted at 9.49 a.m. However, the tweet then not posted for another fucking half hour. Not until 10, 17 a.m. Okay, they were busy, all right?

Those Tim Horton's apple fritters aren't going to eat themselves, God damn it. There is still been no official alerts for public safety beyond some mostly unhelpful shitty social media posts. At 947 a.m., the RCMP, corporal, or excuse me,

RCMP corporal Rodney Peterson actually crosses paths with Gabe while driving in the opposite direction at the intersection of Highway 4 and Plains Road. Peterson broadcast his siding on the radio

and then this is insane. After seeing this guy, after crossing past him, he travels for more than a kilometer further north down the road before he finds a spot that he feels like it's a good place to turn around.

Then he carefully turns around and then he drives south on the highway to try and catch warpman and is unsuccessful because he's a long ways away now and because Officer Peterson is a fucking idiot dude had he had never heard of like a three-point turn before

well is he fucking worried about you know I can't make a you turn eh it's illegal eh this is infuriating I take back when I said earlier about how easy it is to point fingers from my computer years later sometimes it's very easy because it's just blatant that people fucking suck at their jobs

and these Mounties fucking suck at their jobs after seeing Officer Peterson. Gabe pulls off the highway onto the property of Adam and Carol Fisher at 9.49 a.m. The Fisher's hit and called police, not realizing how unhelpful that would be, because apparently all of the Mounties worked in Nova Scotia at this point in time, we're sharing the same brain, a brain that somebody had tossed into a garbage can at a frat party the night before, and then it had been puked on and had cheap beer dumped on it all night. Actually, the Fisher's had recognized Wartman thanks to seeing the recent RCMP Facebook post about the active shooting.

A few minutes later after just chilling, my officer dipshit, look for a super-convement. being a stretch of fucking highway to turn around on, Gabe drove away without incident. At 10 a.m. now, 33-year-old Kristen beaten, a continuing care assistant with the Victorian Order of Nurses, was out visiting patients on her regular schedule. She and her husband Nick had been keeping tabs on the shootings, happening several miles away in nearby Porta-Pix Saturday night,

but had assumed it was over because no announcement of ongoing danger had been made when they woke up Sunday morning, so Kristen went off to work. This is so avoidable. Kristen was newly pregnant with her second child. She and her husband were planning to tell their family the following week when she was going on vacation. Their three-year-old son was going to wear a shirt that was going to let everybody know. Kristen parked her Honda CRV in a gravel pullout on the south side of Plains Road, just southeast of the DeBurt Business Park.

This pullout was frequently used by the Victorian order of nurses' staff to do paperwork or make phone calls while making their home health rounds. Gabe drove up to the same pullout, slowed his vehicle, positioned his replica, cruiser right next to her vehicle. Wartman then fatally shot Kristen through her driver's side window, shot her in the head. She might not have ever seen the man who killed her and her unborn child.

And then Gabe would kill again very quickly. 55-year-old Heather O'Brien, also a member of the Victorian Order of Nurses, had been a licensed practical nurse for 17 years. Heather grew up in Nova Scotia, loved her community. She was a mother to four adult children that she and her husband, a 35 years, Teddy, had raised in Heather's childhood home.

Heather was a hometown girl and proud of it A familiar face in the community Many of her patients had watched her grow up Just literally been around watching her grow up And now she's caring for them in their retirement years She was active in her community She loved to play cribbage on Monday nights At the local Legion

She liked to spend time with any of her 12 grandchildren On the weekends She was not working the morning of April 19th But she was bringing coffee over to one of her daughter's houses Because she's just a nice person Just trying to be helpful just a polite and kind Canadian. While driving, she's on the phone with her friend and colleague Leona Allen

discussing the ongoing manhunt and killings. She seemed to think that the guy must have been caught or wasn't in the area anymore because there had not been a recent dire warning. Unfortunately, Heather was just 30 seconds behind Gabriel Warkman when he shot Kristen Beaton. Heather pulled over on the side of the road, told him that she saw what she believed to be a police cruiser

and heard a gunshot. Gabe then spun around in the pullout, pulled his replica cruiser up next to Heather's car, stepped out of his vehicle, shot Heather through the head, shot her through her driver's side window, her vehicle then rolled southeast along the shoulder a plane's road for approximately 60 meters,

about meters, about 200 feet, before coming to a stop and a wooded ditch on the south side of the road. Leona heard Heather scream and the call end. Leona immediately tried phone on her back, but her call went unanswered. My got. At 10.02 a.m., Leona called 911 to report that her friend,

who is in DeBurt, in her car, only a little over 20 miles or almost 25 kilometers away from Porta Pic, when she said, she quote, heard gunshots and there was a police vehicle, and then that's all I could hear was her scream. Other witnesses also called 911 to report these recent two fatalities. Meanwhile, Gabe Warpman just keeps on trucking. He just drives away towards Highway 4 now. 15 minutes later, at 10, 17 a.m., more than 12 hours after Jamie Blair's initial 911 call providing info about the replica police decalced. cruiser, the RCMP finally alerts the public via Twitter that Warpman was in fact definitely driving a replica cruiser. Over the following hour and a half, the RCMP actually issued eight tweets. They post several Facebook messages and issue an email media release, right? Finally go hard

on getting the word out. Between 1040 and 1049 a.m. gave a spotted driving west on Highway 2 near Brookfield by numerous people. Officers Chad Morrison and Heidi Stevenson were in the area where Warpment had been spotted. The two are going to meet up. Continue the search. Officer Morrison pulled the side of the highway to wait for Officer Stevenson. And then Gabe pulled his car right up alongside Officer Morrison while he's waiting and catch him

and he catches him off guard. He fires three shots at the officer, injuring but not killing him. Morrison then drives away and survives also manages to hit the emergency alert in his car. And I feel fucking terrible for this officer. But I am also surprised. Like wouldn't you be on the highest fucking alert

in these moments and looking for other cruisers. You know, and if you see another cruiser approach, wondering, oh my God, is this him? Have your gun ready? Be ready to crouch? I don't know. So weird. All of this. Officer Heidi Stevenson continues towards Morrison and Wartman's last known location now. Stevenson was born and raised in Nova Scotia. Growing up, she was an active member of the 4-H club built deep community roots. She fell in love with rugby during college. We'll go on to coach rugby as a way to inspire girls and give back to her community. She had been with the RCMP for 23 years wore many different hats during that time,

including representing the RCMP across the continent as part of the musical ride, a job she took without even knowing how to ride a horse, which was required. Many of her roles were community-focused, and she was known to dedicate herself completely so she could be the best possible role model. As Wartman drove away from Morrison after shooting him,

he now spots Stevenson approaching. She's about 500 meters or just over a quarter of a mile away. He turns to intercept her, veering both cars into the guardrails. of the ramp onto Highway 2, where they then collide on the Shubanakadi-Kloverleaf ramp. After crashing, Heidi exchanges gunfire

with Warpment before and after she exits her vehicle. In this exchange, Gabe sustains a wound to his forehead from bullet fragments from Stevenson's firearm, but does gun her down at close range and then takes her pistol and ammo. This story is insane. Good on her for at least trying to take this motherfucker out, right?

She died a hero. Gabe, the fucking Terminator, apparently, not done killing yet. A driver, 36-year-old Joey Weber, came across the two crash police cars on the Clover Leaf. He pulls over, exits his silver 2007 Ford Escape, starts running over to help.

Joey, also born and bred Nova Scotia boy, his father owned a forestry business that used horses to haul wood. Through working for his dad from a young age, he became a gifted horseman with an innate ability to work with draft horses. Joey loved racing at Scotia Speedworld also. He had worked his way up from

Thunder and lightning class to hobby class while always carrying the number 75 on his car. He enjoyed the competition and the camaraderie. Joey and his partner had four daughters, the youngest to which will be born on Christmas Day 2028 months after Gabe Warpman's murderous rampage.

Wartman used his gun to force Joey Weber into the back of his replica cruiser, where he then shoots and kills him. Gabe then takes a few items out of the cruiser before setting it and Heidi Stevenson's cars on fire. He loved to burn shit. He then proceeds to drive away in Joey Weber's SUV.

At 10.55 a.m. now. Gabe left the Clover Leaf, driving south on Highway 224 in Joey Weber's SUV. He passes 54-year-old Gina Gulae's home, makes a U-turn, drives back to her residence. He parks behind her house where the SUV was partly obscured from the road and then quickly breaks the glass and a side door to enter the home. Gina was also a professional denturist and a two-time cancer survivor. She lived in, loved, rural Nova Scotia. She'd been a dentures there for 27 years, and like so many other victims

she knew Gabe. She'd met him through the province's relatively small, denturous community, including going to ongoing education activities with him. Now, Gina was a person who created fun wherever she went. Friends said her daughter, Amelia, said that Gina led a life of fulfillment

and that you might find Gina on the beach in Cuba, on the riverbank, with a fishing rod, at her cottage with the dog, spending time with her family, dancing, salsa in her living room and joined the company of her horse, always with a smile on her face. She was notorious for running her car on fumes. A little funny quirk of her. His neighbor said, if you were going with Gina in a car somewhere, she always had to stop for gas. The morning of April 19th, Gina was texting with her adult daughter Amelia about what Gabe Wartman was doing.

She was very concerned because she knew Gabe, and she knew that he knew where she lived. another local dentures had warned Gina to keep her doors locked. But Amelia reassured her mom that, quote, there's no way he could get that far without being caught. She agreed to keep her phone closed in case her mom called. Around 10.58 a.m., Gina did call her daughter. This is heartbreaking. Amelia later explained that her cell phone rang twice,

but then when she picked it up, the caller hung up. Amelia tried to phone her mom back multiple times but received no answer. She and her husband, David, grew increasingly alarmed, and then left the house and drove towards Gina's home. Mom didn't answer, of course, because Gabe Warpman had entered her house. He shot Ginger, Gina's protective German Shepherd, twice, once in the face, shattering teeth, and her jaw, and another time in the back. Well, Jangles hates this motherfucker. Dude loved to shoot dogs as much as he loved to shoot people.

Ginger would actually survive, the gruesome injuries after surgery. Gina sadly would not. Gina was hiding in her on-sweet bathroom when Warpman kicked down the door, and shot her in the head, just like he had almost everyone else. A lot of headshots. He then took his items out of Joey Weber's Ford Escape, and then drove off with them in Gina's Grey Mazda 3. At the time, the RCMP Emergency Response Team

had left the Schuberti-Kloverleaf at approximately 11 a.m. in pursuit on Highway 224. Either during the period in which Gabe was inside Gina's home or sometime shortly thereafter, ERT members drove southbound, past the residence. They did not see Joey's SUV parked behind, in his home. He is still one step ahead of everybody. At 11.14 a.m. now, Mr. Michael Bennett,

the emergency management office's incident commander called Mr. Glenn Mason, the civilian manager of the RCMP Emergency Management Section, to advise that the Emergency Management Office Incident Command was prepared and ready to use Alert Ready on request by the RCMP. RCP Operational Communications Center staff, the command group, and the executive leadership told the commission that, April 19th, they weren't aware that alert-ready was a mechanism by which info could be shared directly with the public during a critical incident. How the fuck did they not know that? They were so unprepared for something like this ever happening. At 1116 a.m., Gabe pulled into the Elmsdale Petro Canada station, right, this gas station parked at pump number seven.

He was captured on video surveillance at this location. Almost simultaneously, officers Andrew Ryan, Jason Barnhill, and Brent Kelly of the H-Division emergency response team parked their vehicle at pump number eight. Same goddamn gas station. The three constables exited their ERT vehicle, just as Gabe was picking up the fuel hose at pump number seven, still dressed like a Mountie, by the way, with a bleeding fucking head wound. All three ERT members are dressed in tactical gear. They're right by each other, like right by each other.

After replacing the fuel hose, Gabe, he sees these guys. They don't see him. He gets back into his Mazda 3, pulls forward, turn sharply to his right, making 180-degree turn to pull up to pump number 5 now. After a brief pause at that pump,

I guess he decides, nah, it's too risky, and he drives out of the parking lot without ever having gotten fuel. His approximate time of departure from the Petro Canada Station, 11, 17, 5 seconds, a.m., 44 seconds after arrival.

After leaving the gas station, he heads south on Highway 102 to Enfield. none of the ERT members have still noticed him. You would think that everybody would take in a real close look at anybody, just like a mounting, especially somebody bleeding from the head. Nope. 11.24 a.m. Gabe arrives at the end field.

This is fucking tragic, but just darkly, the comedy is so fucking dark. But just these cops, I'm like, for fuck sake! How do you keep fucking up so many times in a row? At 11.24 a.m., Gabe arrives at the Enfield Big Stop gas station from Highway 2 after turning off Highway 102. Enfield Big Stop surveillance videos show that Gabe initially pulled in next to Pump 7, then drove around to Pump 5, less than 30 seconds later. RCMP Police Dog Service member Officer Craig Hubeley, traveling with emergency response team member officer Ben McLeod parked their unmarked RCMP SUV at Pump 6. As he's exiting his vehicle, Hubeley notices a lone man slouching over. in the driver's seat of the gray vehicle

and the other side of the pump, he recognizes Warpman, finally, from the photographs he reviewed that morning. Also, dude has a bleeding head wound. Same head wound. Again, he had had when those other three officers did notice him. These two are now about 15 feet apart.

As Hubeley draws his pistol and points it at Gabe, he shouts, it's him! He then sees Warpman react by, quote, jerking back while seated and immediately raising a silver-colored pistol in his direction with his right hand. both Hubeley and McLeod later testified that they were following their training

shooting multiple rounds in a short period of time to ensure the threat presented by the perpetrator was addressed but Gabe seems to be beat them to the punch, beat them both to the punch still shooting himself in the head just before they fired on him. However, an autopsy later

will reveal that the immediate cause of death was the multiple bullets fired by Hubeley and McLeod causing lethal damage to the perpetrator's internal organs. Really? Not the headshot? Feels like the coroner just wanted to give the RCMP a win here. Hubeley broadcast Warpman's death on the ERT radio channel at 1127 a.m.

At 1140, RCMP issued its last tweet about the mass casualty, stating that the perpetrator was, quote, in custody. That's one way to put it. I mean, he's fucking dead. You could mention that he's fucking dead. With that, nearly 13 hours after the first 911 call, Gabe Wartman's terrifying rampage finally comes to an end.

Warpment had left a wake of destruction. He had set multiple fires, injured a number of people, harmed and killed animals, ripped apart families with the senseless murders of 22 innocent people. In the aftermath of April 18th and 19th,

2020, there were more questions and answers. Why did Gabriel Wartman do what he did? Why did it take the Royal Canadian amount of police so fucking long to stop him? Let's get out of the time-suck timeline to turn our attention to what happened next. Good job, soldier. You've made it back.

Barely. It is still unclear what Gabe's motivations were for the rampage, you know, he went on, as I have alluded to. But also it seems like the RCMP have tried to keep as much information from the public as possible. So maybe they do know, but just haven't said. Maybe the answer would make them look even worse, and they already do. In the immediate aftermath, the 22 murders committed by Gabe Warkman, the RCMP came into harsh criticisms in public or under harsh criticism in public scrutiny, of course.

The mass casualty commission I've referenced was a joint provincial and federal inquiry assembled to investigate the shootings in Port of Piccosia to try and get some answers. Their final 3,000 page report named Turning the Tides Together was released in 2023. Findings include officers deployed as first responders had little idea what they were arriving to.

The RCMP, nonetheless, quote, failed to publicly share accurate and timely information worsening the tragedy. That's pretty obvious. Don't really need a commission to determine that. As one example of incompetence, the RCMP issued mobile phones given to officers had no data abilities. You couldn't use them for data. So you couldn't use them to like, you know, look on social media. Couldn't use the, didn't have lights on them.

So officers unfamiliar with the area weren't able to use these phones to navigate with, had to use their personal phones instead to navigate in the dark. despite the first three emergency calls identifying the shooter by name saying he was driving a near perfect replica of an RCMP vehicle officers on the ground never given that info

and instead assumed the shooter was driving a decommissioned vehicle with old decals just a big old basic human communication fuck up already aware of some of the murders and burning buildings the RCMP tweeted that they were responding

to a firearm complaint as I mentioned a message the commission said quote in no way conveyed the threat presented by the perpetrator at the time obviously police did not send out another message to the public until the next morning.

Police did have access to an emergency alert system in place, but senior RCMP officers told the commission they didn't think they could use it. They thought it was only supposed to be used for weather and natural disasters. What do those fucking morons think was going to happen to them if they used it? They were going to be fired for trying to be too safe? The initial tactical response was that of confusion, that there was no clear chain of command because they didn't know the area well, police did not realize there was a gap in their containment efforts that allowed the shooter to escape.

For most of the night, RCMP operated under the assumption that Gabe Wartman was still near Porta-Pick or that he was dead. Wasn't until the next morning the RCMP fully grasped that he had escaped. Outdated technology, insufficient training, confusion over orders. Who was giving them? Who was supposed to follow them? Also hampered the response, the response to the RCMP sergeant, driven to the detachment by his wife, was issuing orders to officers. even though he had told colleagues at the time he'd had at least four drinks, right? That was why he wasn't driving. He was too drunk to drive, but not too drunk to help lead Canada's most important ever manhunt.

Got it. The report also details Wartman's history of domestic violence and his relationships with women, including his common-law wife, common-law wife, Lisa Banfield. In particular, the report notes the experience of Brenda Forbes, a neighbor in Port-a-Pick who informed the RCMP of Warpment's violence toward Banfield in the past. he never faced consequences, but Brenda dealt with years of stalking harassment and threats from Warpman, prompting her to leave the province when the police would not deal with those threats. All of these errors made by the RCMP led to conspiracy theories about Gabe Warp.

One theory is that he was actually an important confidential informant for the RCMP. Feeling this speculation is the fact that on March 30th, 2020, just three weeks before the rampage, Wartman withdrew $475,000 in cash from a Brinks Depot in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia. This theory actually published in an article for McLean's magazine. It laid out its case saying, Gabe took the cash in a carry-all and put it in the trunk of his car and then placed the $475,000 in a few fireproof containers at one of six rural properties that he owned.

Sources in both banking and the RCMP said that that transaction is consistent with how the RCMP funnels money to its confidential informants and agents, and that it is not an option available to private banking customers. Around this time, a major bust of four motorcycle gang members, two Hells Angels and two Red Devils, were arrested by RCMP after a very long operation in the next province over, New Brunswick. As Gabe Warpman was known for smuggling motorcycle parts, cigarettes, liquor, possibly guns from the U.S.,

and had regular interactions with numerous bike gang members, some speculated Warpman was an informant acting against the gangs for the RCMP and that the night he started his rampage he'd found out that his cover had been blown feeling betrayed

he went on a murder spree one partially engineered to embarrass the RMCP or RCMP excuse me the RCMP has repeatedly said it has no special relationship with Warp but of course that doesn't mean that they're not hiding something

if Warp wasn't RCMP informant or agents it could explain why the force appeared not to act on supposed previous complaints about his illegal guns and assaults on his common law wife. Another conspiracy theory is that Warpman may have had a partner of sorts with his criminal activities, a person with strong ties to organized crime, Peter Allen Griffin. I bought this remote-controlled toy helicopter to which I have attached this handgun. And I tell you, this thing is not easy to fly.

Peter, that doesn't seem very... He goes. Now, I don't have anything to control the trigger with, so I put it on a timer. But I don't remember how long I said it... We're all going to die. Not that Peter Griffin, actually. No, this Peter Griffin was 40 years old, living in Porta Pic Nova Scotia,

with his parents while working at a sign shop in nearby Truro in 2019. Griffin had been arrested in Edmonton back in 2014 in connection to the La Familia gang, which has ties to Mexican drug cartels. He was on parole, hung out with Warman, and occasionally worked for him as a handyman.

Police interviewed Griffin about the mass shooting shortly after they occurred, and he initially told his parole officer that he didn't know anything, but it was soon discussed. that he was the guy who printed the fake RCMP decals for Warpment in 2019. This has also led some to believe that there could be more to what occurred in 2020 than what has been made public by the police.

So what a fucking crazy story, right? Will we ever know why Gabriel Warpman did what he did? I mean, probably not. I mean, maybe he thought, for example, that the police truly had ratted him out to the bikers he had ratted out. And now there was a price on his head and he knew he was a dead man walking, you know, that it wasn't going to be a quicker, painless death. And so he decided to have one last fling with his mistress, one last strip teas, some hot sex, his last rodeo.

And then he decided he wanted to fuck over the RCMP on his way out. Drive around in the car that looked like one of their cars, dressed in one of their uniforms, killing as many people as he could before they killed him, making them look as incompetent as possible. Burn as many buildings down as well, cause just so much mayhem. Kill Mounties, you know, if he could when they came for him. Or maybe, maybe he got real conspiratorial. about COVID, had some kind of strange mental health crisis, and just fucking snapped and was

legit out of his mind at the end. Had some kind of, you know, crazy rationale for doing what he did and killing who he killed. Whatever the reasoning in the end, I guess doesn't matter, you know, for who he killed. And it's terrifying that a person can do that. Just snap. That somebody, you know, some neighbor you've had drinks with, laughed with, never had a problem with. You can just snap and decide to kill you and others around you as quickly as possible. Just walk up, start shooting, without giving a reason, without ever even looking angry, where you don't even have a chance to be like, hey, hey, dude, whoa, whoa, what's going on?

Let's talk about this. How do you prepare for something like that? Well, sadly, in some ways, you can't. Short of removing yourself completely from society, living alone, way out in the woods, some kind of doomsday bunker with security cameras all over the place and motion alerts letting you know when someone approaches and just, you know, be loaded to the gills with guns,

you can't. And even in that crazy scenario, what happens when you get sick and need a doctor? Well, they're not going to let you just, you know, have your exam taken with a loaded gun in your hand. What happens when you get old and you'd care? The sick truth is we are all vulnerable to being killed like this, each and every one of us.

I could have been gunned down while working on this episode in the coffee shop. Somebody could kick down my door in the studio right fucking now. Just blast me away. Somebody could figure out where I live, kill me my sleep. Burn down my house with me inside. It's a terrifying possibility. And thinking about it too much can drive you insane.

What we can do, though, to try and, and prevent it is living in a society with well-trained, well-paid law enforcement who are held accountable when they do fuck up and don't stop tragedies like these soon enough after they start. The first several people killed by Warpman didn't have a chance, but after those first 911 calls replaced, nearly every officer within a hundred-mile radius, why weren't they heading towards Porta-Pick? They should have been communicating with each other. They should have known to look for the primary suspect, Gabe Warfman. They should have had his photo, you know, sent to all their phones. Somebody should have been looking at the map and setting up roadblocks on all the the roads leading out of the area. Helicopters should have been patrolling through the night and other other search parties, you know, roaming through the woods. Nobody should have died on Sunday, April 19th. To me, this episode really illustrates how truly important it is for a society to have a well-trained,

properly vetted law enforcement staff, right, agency who are given all the latest tech so they can do their jobs most effectively, well-paid law enforcement officers, right, given jobs that entice the best and the brightest to sign up. Because when you need some brave men and women to risk their lives, so you can keep your life, you want the fucking best. And clearly the best and brightest, they weren't working for the RCMP in Nova Scotia around Port-a-Pic in 2020. So was anybody fired in the aftermath of all this? Nope.

Not one person by the looks of it. Did anyone get demoted? Nope. Not one person. Were any improvements made following all those mistakes? Yes. There was at least that. The RCMP has implemented significant operational and technological reforms following

the mass shooting. Key improvements include upgraded dispatch operations in Dartmouth, mandatory risk manager and incident commander training, the implementation of, quote, blue force tracking to monitor officer locations, and expanded use of the National Alert Ready system. Let's hope if somebody like Gabe Warpman ever snaps again, those changes will be enough.

Time for the takeaways. Time shock. Top five takeaways. Number one, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police they don't always suck. They've also stopped a lot of bad people from doing a lot of bad shit. They're a combination.

Federal and State Police Agency all rolled into one, a local agency as well that has been around in some forms since 1873. They're seen as a national symbol of Canada and are the major police force for all but two provinces. Were they at their best in Nova Scotia on April 18th and 19th, 2020?

Obviously not. No, they really fucked up bad. And their actions exposed systemic failures that likely allowed Gay Wartman's actions to continue on long after they should have been stopped. But they also saved an untold number of citizens' lives, you know, by finally getting him. They have saved a bunch of people in other situations.

An officer did give her life the ultimate sacrifice trying to stop that motherfucker, and that shouldn't go unnoticed. No, and a second officer also nearly died. Number two, Nova Scotia has a lot of active motorcycle gangs. Even though Hell's Angels have officially been shut down by the RCMP, there are 14 known outlaw motorcycle gangs still operating in the province. and it seems that Gabriel Warpman was very likely criminally connected to several of them

and that there's a lot of speculation that connection that connection that he had, you know, may have in some way led to his rampage. Number three, Gabriel Warpman was a strange dude, a man who's obsessed with the police and went out cosplaying as a cop. Warpman's best friend from his teen years was the creepy and much older lawyer, Tom Evans. Evans convicted of sexually assaulting a 17-year-old boy. He helped get released from jail, known to sexually pray. on young men and boys, highly suspected that Evans and Wartman had a sexual romantic relationship

and that Evans represented a man employed by the Medellin cartel who had been convicted as part of a brazen plot to break two men out of jail. Evans left all of his estate to Gabe Wartman, including a Ruger Mini 14 rifle that he used at one point during the rampage. Number four, during his 13-hour killing spree, Warpman wreaked havoc on a tight-knit rural area. He made four of his direct neighbor's orphans. He killed a lot of good, caring, helpful people who had are already trying to adjust to the start of a global pandemic, folks who looked out for the neighbors and loved their communities. He murdered Tom Bagley,

Kristen Beaton, who's expecting a child, Greg and Jamie Blair, Joy and Peter Bond, Lillian Campbell Highslop, Corey Ellison, Gina Gouley, Don Madsen,

and Frank Galenchin, Alana Jenkins, and Sean McLeod, Lisa McCulley, Heather O'Brien, Jolene Oliver, Aaron Tuck, and Emily Tuck, Heidi Stevenson,

Joanne Thomas and John Joseph Zoll and Joey Weber All killed during 13 hours of terror The deadliest shooting rampage in Canadian history Number five, new info One more big botched moment During the Manhunt for Wartman took place At the Onslow Belmont Fire Brigade Hall in Onslow, Nova Scotia, a 30-minute drive from Porta-Pick.

Yeah, there's more. And this is worse than maybe anything I've already said so far about the RMCP or RCMP. I want to know know why I can't get that fucking acronym consistently correct. On the morning of Sunday, the 19th, just after 10, 17 a.m., two Mounties accidentally fired five rounds at another officer they thought was the gunman, hitting a community hall where various firefighters and an evacuee were sheltering to be safe from the gunman's rampage. Constable Terry Brown and Constable Dave Melanson were traveling east on the highway two

in search of Warpment in an unmarked police vehicle, a Nissan Ultima. They saw a dude wearing an orange reflective vest, Dave Westlake, a civilian. emergency management coordinator for the Colchester Regional Emergency Management Organization standing next to an RCMP cruiser. They did not see Constable Dave Gagnan in the driver's seat. They stopped their car in the middle of the road, approximately 88 meters or roughly 300 feet from a monument at the entrance to the fire hall. Constable Gagnan saw Brown and Melison exit their vehicle, raise their weapons, and point them in his general direction. Constable Melison tried to radio other officers, let him know what he was seen, but couldn't get three. Of course not.

According to Brown, he yelled for Mr. Westlake to show his hands. Both Brown and Melison report observing Mr. Wetlake then duck behind the RCMP vehicle. Yeah, because he didn't want to fucking die. And then Brown opened fire, shooting four rounds towards the parked RCMP vehicle, and Melison fired another round at the same target. Mr. Westlake said he heard the words, get down, before the shots were fired, he started to run. He ran into the fire hall and yelled shots fired, get down, get down.

Everyone's terrified. Constable Gagnan stayed at his cruiser While the shots were fired Almost got shot in the face He ducked down, uses police radio to identify himself And directed the members To look at the fucking call number

On his goddamn cruiser He called out You guys are pointing your guns at me The Colchester Radio transcript Also recorded that he broadcast Who are you shooting at? It's me! Ganyan

Brown and Millison Then approached the fire hall spoke with Ganyan Maybe apologize but probably not performed a brief scan to the area. After the return to the vehicle, they phoned their superior, Staff Sergeant Al Carroll,

to report the incident. Carol asked a few questions, including whether they were okay, but because the perpetrator was active, he just told him, go on, keep going, just drive off. The shots caused $40,000 worth of damage to the hull,

left people traumatized inside. They were fucking terrified they were going to die. Some firefighters interviewed over a year later were still traumatized and still pissed off that those guys hadn't been punished. Brown and Melison later testified that they missed hearing some very important information that had been radioed to them about the gunman's car having a black push bar.

They literally just weren't paying attention when the message came in. They also said they had not been told the exact fucking location they were at was being used as a comfort center, a place literally designated as a safe space for people to hide from the gunman. Holy shit. Neither officer ever received any discipline whatsoever. Time suck Top five takeaways 13 hours of terror

The 2020 Nova Scotia massacre has been sucked Thank you to the bad magic productions team For all their help and making time suck This story isn't fucking nuts Thanks to Queen of Bad Magic Lindsay Cummins Thanks to Logan Keith helping to publish this episode Designing merch for the store at badmagic productions.com

Thank you to Heather Rylinder again for her research Thanks to the All Seen Eyes moderating the cult of the curious private Facebook page, the Mod Squad making sure Discord keeps running smooth and everybody over on the TimeSuck and Bad Magic Subredits. And now let's head on over to this week's Time Sucker Updates. Did your Time Sucker updates? Hard partying meat sack, Jim.

Send it a message to Bojangles at Timesug Podcast.com with a subject line of Black Angus Restaurant. Oh, fuck yeah, bro. Apparently that chain really did, used to be so much more than just a steakhouse. Jim wrote, Hey, Suckmaster, don't be goofing on the scene at Black Angus Restaurant. I can't attest to the coolness of the Bellevue Washington location, but as a horny 20-something in the 80s,

the Black Angus in El Cajon, California was quite the hookup place. When one wasn't up for driving into San Diego for the clubs of the beach, the Black Angus in San Diego's East County was good enough as a place to hang out and probably get laid. As soon as you mentioned their name, their commercial jingles, started playing in my head at Stuart Anderson's Black Angus restaurant, you're going to feel good inside. All the memories. Good times, good times. Love the show. Don't change a thing. Jim.

Jim, I love it. What a fucking night people were having back in the day at Black Angus. Getting themselves a high-quality steak for an affordable price. Complete with a loaded baked potato. And then getting some strange for the cost of a couple happy hour drinks. And what a happy hour it seems to have been for you on some occasions. This one's for you, Jim. Another trip down memory lane. Going out for steak, fire a sirloin up for me,

because I don't care much for sushi and I starve on French cuisine. I'm thinking of a top sirloin dinner at Black Angus. Hell yeah. Made super, fresh salad and a baked potato all under seven bucks. What? Don't count parsley as a side dish. Give me all-night out of card.

You got a date with a full steak dinner. and black angus is where I'll start. Fucking love it. And now an important update to a previous update regarding the time suck Discord server requiring butthole verification for new members. Super Sack and dedicated suckster, Jason. Sent in a message with the subject line of

Cloaca, not butthole, were evolved. And then he wrote, greeting family and Hail Nimrod. Just wanted to make a correction to the comment about new users being asked for butthole pictures in the Discord server. we have progressed from asking for butthole pictures

to asking for cloaca pictures this not only helps to verify that people are not bots but also that they are not lizard people thankfully even if they aren't lizard people we still get to see a butthole thank you in the bad magic coup

for everything you do three to five stars wouldn't change a thing nice jason now the rest of you don't know what a cloaca is you're probably a bot might be a lizard person if you do know what a cloaca is you know that it is

a butthole. Just another word for butthole. From the Latin word for sewer, it means a single multipurpose posterior opening used by many vertebrate animals for the excretion of waste and reproduction.

Ooh, sometimes it's a butthole china. A butchina. Well played, Jason. Well played. Thank you for that very, very important correction. And now one more. Another reminder that the words we share matter, right, and that you never know

who needs to hear them. A badass sack. Send in the following message with the subject line of now hear this. Dear Dan, they wrote. A.k.a. our beloved mushmouth leader Supreme and his Queen Lindsay, first of her name, long may they rain. That's so nice. I don't know if either of you will ever read this or if it'll ever go on air,

but if it does, I do ask that my name be redacted because some of the people I mentioned in this message may potentially listen to this podcast. Done. And Lindsay read this too. Anywho, first of all, I'm an OG fan of yours. think, uh, Circa, hear this, and here come the spoons, motherfucker. Uh, I have listened to every episode of time sucks, scared of death, and even is we dumb. Man, thank you.

So suffice to say, your brand of humor and your worldview have long spoken to me deeply and been an integral part of my dark humor, love, and personality. I know it's cliche to say this, and I'm sure you're probably get jaded from hearing this, but your content, everything from your stand up to your podcast truly has gotten me through the worst times of my life. There was once a time when I felt like I was in an echo chamber of people who did not have the same empathy, compassion or respect for knowledge that I have. I was gaslit constantly by so-called friends, family, and my now ex-husband into believing that I was alone in my way of thinking. I felt alone and was afraid to speak up, and I just settled into a routine of thinking that

life would always be that way. Fast forward to COVID. My ex bought us tickets to see your stand-up in Houston. I was so excited because he rarely did things like that for me, and I couldn't wait to see your show. Of course, due to the circumstances of the pandemic, the show was unfortunately canceled. but since we had already gotten a non-refundable room, we decided to go and have some fun in the area anyway.

I'll spare you all the details. But I will tell you this was the night that threats and violent words were finally made good upon. Thankfully, a friend of mine came to get me before I was unable to walk away. As I stayed at my friend's house that night, I turned on my favorite comfort show, time suck to help me calm my nerves

and try best to get some sleep. As I was listening to The Suck and Annie Oakley's, your words from so many episodes about bad men and the patterns they follow rung in my head, along with all the things my friend had told me that night. I finally dealt with the realization that was nearly a decade in the making. I had to leave this person

before he more seriously injured me or ended my life. Many people at the times that I was being dramatic and that it was only, quote, one time. But all true crime junkies know how these patterns work. Years' worth of constant escalation would not simply end, especially once that line had been crossed. So I finally mustered up my courage

and I began planning to leave. I filed for divorce within a few weeks, and I moved out. I was scared for my life. He sent me constant threatening texts, and I didn't know how I would make it on my own as I had been with him since I was a teenager, and I had little to no family support or help. But despite the negativity of many,

I listened to the voice of my few friends and of you and Lindsay, and I finally got the fuck out. A few years later, after some healing, I met the love of my life, a kind and wonderful man who helped me fix everything within myself that he didn't break.

I shared your comedy and your shows with him and he instantly loved your brand of humor the same way I did. He finally took me to see you live in San Antonio in February of 2023. The show was amazing. It felt like my life had finally come full circle. It's safe to say my allergies acted up

pretty quickly that evening if you catch my drift. After leaving that trip, he and I found out we were expecting our first child. We got married, bought a house, had a son later in the same year. It felt so surreal. There was a time when I didn't believe I would live long enough

to see all of these dreams come true. In fact, there was a time when I didn't believe I was worth it. Something really resonated with me in last week's episode about George Russell when you said you wished you could go back in time and get Mindy into therapy and let her know that she deserves better.

I think that struck me so hard because many of my ex-sist behaviors aligned pretty closely with those of George's. Well, Dan, in some small way, you did exactly that with me because you taught me that I was not crazy for believing that fear and violence

were not normal in a relationship. You also taught me that my way of thinking, my worldview was not exclusive to just me. You inspired me to go on living when I wanted to give up, and without that, I wouldn't have the wonderful life I have today. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Please never stop being your justice and knowledge-seeking self. Keep on sucking.

Sorry not sorry for the long message, Anonymous. Man, the message, yeah, that really made my day. And, man, got me in the fields. Got me in the fields, man. And not because you said nice things about me, but because of what you did for you, right? Hail Lucifina, you fucking did it. You chose to believe that you were worth more than this insecure, controlling fucking

asshole, this small person wanted you to believe. You chose to believe that you were right, not him. And look where that belief and choice got you, right? It's incredible. It's so inspiring. What you did is fucking way more inspiring than anything I've ever done this show. And you're right. He wouldn't have stopped.

He would have kept hurting you, right? Some lines when crossed, I truly believe they changed somebody forever. Not that everybody who hurts somebody will always keep hurting people, but they will always know that they're capable of hurting people. And if they don't stay vigilant, vigilant, that they will hurt again. I don't know where your ex is. I don't fucking care. I do hope he's changed. And I hope that you leaving him was the wake-up call that led to that change.

No one deserves to be abused by the partner, to be belittled, to be gaslit, to be manipulated and assaulted. There is a lot of shitty people in the world, sadly, lazy, selfish motherfuckers who live by. ethos of always doing what's easiest and best for them. Probably always will be. A lot of those people right now in the culture. But there are also a lot of wonderful, caring, kind people who work really hard to treat others like they would like to be treated. So find those people.

Meets, Zaks, don't accept anything less, right? You've got this one journey, this one life to make sure, you know, or, you know, so please make sure that you treat it like you would want somebody you love, your mom, your child, your best friend, whoever, to treat their. life. Look at it that way if you have to. Would you want them to accept what you've accepted? No, then fucking change. Love yourself like you love them. Hail Nimrod, motherfuckers. Thanks for the messages, you beautiful bastards. I'm suckers. I needed that. We all did.

For the record, there is a lot of pollen in the air right now. There is, in my defense, there's a lot. There's a lot of pollen around here right now as I'm recording this. Thanks for listen to another Bad Magic Productions podcast. Be sure and rate and review time suck if you haven't already. Please don't fucking snap this week. Right? Go talk to somebody. Take all the cash you got from being a rat, from being an informant, and I don't know, build a new life for yourself on some fucking tropical island.

You got options. Don't involve murder. Don't be such a piece of shit. Don't be so uncreative. Do keep on sucking. Hello. I'm Dan Cummins. Host of the Time Suck podcast, and I would like to take a moment to read a great.

quick letter drafted in part by our legal team. Time suck is infotainment and not actual news. I'm not a journalist. I am also definitely not a law enforcement expert and therefore may not understand what it actually takes to effectively work in law enforcement in this country or in any other, like Canada, for example. I understand that it is a difficult and dangerous profession and that when dealing with an active shooter, a lot of decisions are being made quickly by a lot of

of people and mistakes can happen. Just because I think that most of the RCMP officers involved in responding to the 2020 Nova Scotia shootings should have been fired, especially the dispatcher, for sure that motherfucker is dumber than a bag of rocks wrapped in a box of hammers, wrapped in a box of hair, in my opinion. But that doesn't mean I am right. Just like I am not necessarily right in thinking that anyone connected to the RCMP Nova Scotia social media team should have definitely been fired, probably flogged publicly, and

be given the choice between having, hey, I'm a full. fucking moron tattooed on either their face or neck. I am also not necessarily correct in thinking that whoever made the final decisions not warned the public or other officers within the first hour of an active shooter in a cop car wearing a uniform being in port of pick vicinity should have not only been fired, but that the family of any victims who died on the 19th should be allowed to paddle their bare bottom in the town square for no less 100 wax. That does not mean that what I am suggesting is good or justified.

I am just a random guy who happens to think that most of the officers involved in the 2020 shooting response are about as useless as a one-legged cat trying to bury a turd on a frozen lake. Thank you for your time.