True Crime Campfire - Less Dead: Serial Killer Robert Willie Pickton, Pt 3

Episode Date: September 13, 2024

Once an avalanche starts, there’s nothing that can be done to stop it. You can prevent them, you can prepare for them, but by the time you start to hear the ice cracking, it’s almost always too late. The case of Willie Pickton feels a little bit like an avalanche. For the past two episodes, the people in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside have been hearing ominous creaks, trying hard to determine what the cause is. Unfortunately for dozens of women, help wouldn’t come in time. Part 3 of this chilling true story.Free shipping and 365-day returns from Quince: https://quince.com/happycamperTry Magic Mind: You have a limited offer you can use now, that gets you up to 48% off your first subscription or 20% off one time purchases with code TCC20 at checkout! Claim it at: https://magicmind.com/tccpodSources:Cameron, Stevie. On the Farm: Robert William Pickton and the Tragic Story of Vancouver's Missing Women. Knopf Canada. Kindle Edition. https://www.nativehope.org/missing-and-murdered-indigenous-women-mmiw?utm_term=mmiw%20statistics&utm_campaign=MMIW+-+Search&utm_source=adwords&utm_medium=ppc&hsa_tgt=kwd-1652454857508&hsa_grp=144380966783&hsa_src=g&hsa_net=adwords&hsa_mt=b&hsa_ver=3&hsa_ad=646853914079&hsa_acc=3651624507&hsa_kw=mmiw%20statistics&hsa_cam=19633980915&gad_source=1&gclid=CjwKCAjwlbu2BhA3EiwA3yXyu8y0N86jvR6NFomqQUWY1AD3h0y48ITuUopInfNw6Tb_MBFkRKbaRhoC0ikQAvD_BwEThe Guardian: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2005/aug/05/features11.g2Follow us, campers!Patreon (join to get all episodes ad-free, at least a day early, an extra episode a month, and a free sticker!): https://patreon.com/TrueCrimeCampfirehttps://www.truecrimecampfirepod.com/Facebook: True Crime CampfireInstagram: https://gramha.net/profile/truecrimecampfire/19093397079Twitter: @TCCampfire https://twitter.com/TCCampfireEmail: [e-mail]! https://true-crime-campfire.myspreadshop.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/true-crime-campfire--4251960/support.

Hello, campers, grab your marshmallows and gather around the true crime campfire. We're your camp counselors. I'm Katie. And I'm Whitney. And we're here to tell you a true story that is way stranger than fiction. We're roasting murderers and marshmallows around the true crime campfire. Once an avalanche starts, there's nothing that can be done to stop it. You can prevent them. You can prepare for them. But by the time you start to hear the ice cracking, it's almost always too late. The case of Willie Picton feels a little bit like an avalanche.

For the past two episodes, we've discussed that the people in Vancouver's downtown east side were hearing ominous creeks, trying hard to determine what the cause was. Unfortunately, for dozens of women, help wouldn't come in time. This is part three of Less Dead, the Crimes of Robert Willie Picton. Willie Picton was visiting the sex workers downtown more and more often now, despite the fact that he blamed them when he was diagnosed with hepatitis C, which is actually unlikely. It's not super common for it to be sexually transmitted.

It was no coincidence then that 1997 was the deadliest year for the girls working the downtown east side. Something that strikes me about this case is how easy it is to forget the victims. Willie Pickton's crimes were so egregious, so disgusting that it's hard not to rubberneck while talking about him to focus on him and not as victims. But they were important. They were people. We talk a lot on this show about ripples, about how one death can have a domino effect on an entire community. What happens when there's 50? How many people does that touch? How many families have an empty seat at their table? How many homes are a little less warm? A million little tragedies, all because one smelly man hated women.

Janet Henry and her family may have been cursed. Her life was unbelievably difficult. She was the youngest of 11 children, born to members of the Kwokyudal tribe in northern British Columbia. Her oldest brother Larry was put up for adoption when he was born. Her second oldest brother Richard passed away as a baby. In total, the children were Larry, Richard, Dorothy, Donna, Levina, George, twins, Sandra, and Stan, Debbie, Lance, and Janet. The nine children, including Janet, that followed, were healthy.

Her father fell overboard while fishing, and when her brother George tried to maneuver the boat to help him back in, he hit his father, killing him. Then the kids were separated. The oldest were sent to residential schools, horrific boarding institutions that intended to strip indigenous children of their culture in order to assimilate the them into Canadian culture. Over 150,000 children were legally abducted from their families between 1883 and 1997, where they were forced into manual labor and punished for showing any form of their individual cultures.

Janet and the younger children were sent to foster homes, presumably because they were young enough to be molded into good little Canadians. Remember Clifford Olson, the serial killer and child predator we discussed in episode one? sometime between 1980 and 81, he, along with another man, drugged Janet, likely with chloral hydrate mixed in with some juice, and dragged her into a car where she was sexually assaulted. Janet was one of the few children that he released. Janet's oldest sister Levina was 19 in caring for her younger siblings when she was sexually assaulted and murdered by five men. The men were sentenced to just five years for the crime. Then Stan was hit

by a police car and killed in 1990. In 1991, Debbie died by suicide. Janet became a hairdresser and got married in 1984. The couple had a daughter that she named after her sister Debbie. They divorced, and soon her husband getting custody of the daughter, Janet was living with a boyfriend who was addicted to drugs, and soon she was taking them with him. Then he convinced her to start doing sex work to feed their habit. The boyfriend eventually, died by overdose and Janet moved to one of the many hotels run by gang members for sex workers. She was an alcoholic and addicted to drugs, but she stayed in close contact with her sister Sandra. She would call often, and Janet would write letters to her daughter. She wasn't a

flighty person at all. She was in the throes of addiction, but family was clearly important to her. In early 1997, she was sexually assaulted and severely beaten by a man named John Gary Sylvie. who was convicted of the crime. On June 25th of the same year, Janet missed a meeting with Sandra, which was very out of character for her. Sandra called the police and requested a wellness check. They talked to the hotel and found that she wasn't there

and that her room had been paid for for the month. Scared that her sister's rapist had come back to finish the job, Sandra went to the hotel herself, but in the room there was nothing out of place. In fact, there was a bagpacked, like Janet had intended to go somewhere. Sandra took to the downtown east side, asking around after Janet. Eventually, one of the other Henry sisters told Sandra a secret that Janet had told her.

She said that Janet didn't give a fuck about life anymore, and had taken to partying somewhere in Port Coquitlam that she called Uncle Willys. Apparently, this Willie character would set out little bowls of cocaine for parties. No one ever saw Janet Henry, alive or dead, again. No one linked her disappearance to the other missing girls until years later. After Janet went missing, her sister Dorothy passed away and Sandra's son died by suicide. Just this family is like a lightning rod for tragedy. I cannot even imagine the levels of grief in that family.

It's just unbelievable. Unbelievable. Helen Hallmark, who was 32 when she disappeared from the downtown east side in August of the same year, never wanted to see another young girl on the street. She'd been a cheerleader in high school, but in her late teens, she got caught up with drugs and sex work. She had a daughter named Chelsea and selflessly gave her up for adoption because she believed she couldn't give her a good enough life. She tried over and over again to change, to get help, but nothing stuck. She often counseled other young women against following in her footsteps.

One such girl wrote in a missing person's forum, When I met her, I did not do drugs, and she and her friends took me under their wing and basically sheltered me. preventing me from entering the lifestyle. I remember going to her place for dinner one night and we had pork chops and Brussels sprouts. She was beautiful. I have gone on to nursing school and I plan to work in the downtown east side when I graduate. I want to help people like Helen and others like her as much as I can. It's my way of paying them back because I could have so easily gone down the same path. Helen disappeared and was last seen being put under arrest by Vancouver police officers, but they had no record of booking her at all.

The next woman to go missing was Jacqueline Murdoch, a 27-year-old indigenous mother of four. She disappeared on August 14, 1997. When her mom tried to report her missing, it doesn't appear that any investigation was done whatsoever. Her niece wrote a letter to her, posted online, said, I missed you and I wanted to remember you. I wanted you to tell me stories and tell me you loved me. It's the hardest thing in the world to have lost you, but I promise that somehow, in God's hands, I will get through such a time as this.

I will make you and daddy proud of me. I love you, Auntie Jackie, and I know once again you are with my father in heaven. Save a place for me. I love you always and forever. Love always, your niece for life, Jesse Jay. Ooh, man, I need a minute. That is just heartbreaking. It's just, it's...

Good Lord. Just like you said at the beginning, a million little tragedies. Yeah. And it's just, it really brings it home how, you know, like on the one side, you've got these cops saying, oh, don't, you know, they're just junkies and hookers. And then you've got this like ocean of pain on the other side. And the contrast of that is just horrifying.

And look, it's just, it's such impotent grief, too, because they can't do anything. Yeah. These families, you know, were they were doing the Valentine's Day marches. They were, you know, trying to push the police. But the police just didn't care. They wouldn't do anything. Just horrific.

Just horrific. In September 1997, Renata Bond was strolling on her street when a large truck pulled up next to her. Inside was a round-faced man with a beard who introduced himself as Dave. He looked dirty to her. When she hopped in the car, he told her that he wasn't a cop and took out his penis to prove it to her. Like you do. Cops don't have penises, you see, or any genitalia at all. Oh, okay. Interesting.

Just a... Just a... Yeah, just a gun barrel where it's supposed to be. And I can't remember what case it is, but there is a case where police officers used fake penises to show to... I remember that. I can't remember which one it was. Yeah, I remember that. There was a cop that had like a dildo in his pants.

He asked if she'd take $100 for a blow job and immediately Renata's brain went to high alert. The going price for a blowie was $40. This was over twice that. Renata knew something was up. It was too good to be true. She thought, I shouldn't have gotten to the car. I don't like the smell of him. He looks dirty.

I think she meant I don't like the smell of him. Like, I don't like the cut of his jib. But I think she also may not have. Like the actual smell of him. With the Picton brothers, you just can't really tell. And Renata was like, no thanks. Dave pushed and said, I can make it worth your while and offered her a baggie of cocaine. Renata, who was into drugs, still declined.

She only traded in sex acts for cash. Renato was savvy. She claimed to have been targeted by the Green River killer, Gary Ridgway, when he made one of his trips up to Vancouver. She could, yeah, she would give sworn testimony that he slashed at her with a knife when she tried to jump out of his car. Ridgeway was active. He'd make little trips up to Vancouver at this time. So it's entirely possible that she did have a run in with him. Again, Dave ignored her no and said, do you know someone else? The date isn't for me. It's for my brother at home. Yeah, that ain't sweetening the deal now. In exchange, he told her he'd give her the

cash and the Coke. That was too good of a deal to pass up. Her friend Sherry would appreciate the work. Dave drove towards Renata's place and told her, conversationally, my brother's older, bit of an invalid, and probably couldn't even get it up to get a blowjob, but he still likes to have a girl try anyway. So it'd be an easy day, easy money. So she's just going out there to try, and she'll make a big tip and she can do the drugs and there's more drugs out there too. He told her they would need to come with him to his farm in Port Coquitlam. He convinced Renata that she could go to and that he would even pay for them to take a cab back. Sherry Irving had been staying with Renata for a while and the two were buddies. Sherry was 24 years old and had always been fun-loving and

popular. Her family moved around a lot thanks to her father's military career and it was hard on Sherry. When she graduated high school, she moved to Vancouver, and by 19, she was addicted to crack cocaine and had resorted to sex work to make ends meet. When Renata brought Dave to her apartment, Sherry agreed to go along. She owed Renata for rent and drugs, so this was a good way for her to pay her debt and have a little take home, too. When Renata and Sherry arrived at the farm, Dave directed Sherry to the trailer at the back of the property. Willie was waiting for her on the little deck built in front of his trailer, and just before she walked away, Sherry turned to Renata and said, goodbye. Renata's stomach turned. Something wasn't right. She thought to herself,

I'm never going to see her again. And she didn't. After that night, Sherry was supposed to catch a fairy with a friend from Vancouver to the mainland, so Renata didn't have anything but a gut feeling to go on. Although, after that night, Dave started repeatedly referring friends to Renata and visited with her often, she felt uneasy about what she called their business relationship. Even though she knew Dave pretty well now, she didn't trust him. In addition to that, she was terrified of Willie. She said he looked evil and mean, good radar. Dave would call Renata up to pick up girls for Willie and insisted that he, the big strong biker man that he was, didn't need sex workers, and he paid her $100 a girl along with some drugs. He would call the women Renata picked up Willie's

losers. Did he know what Willie was up to? Or was he just doing a kindness for his brother? I guess we'll never know for sure. Dave's never admitted to any involvement. There's a really funny story that Renata tells. She said that a guy on a Harley pulled up next to her wearing a helmet with a visor and she hopped on for a ride, like just for funsies. When she started a motion that she wanted off, the driver, according to Stevie Cameron in on the farm, spun the motorcycle around, fought for control, and wound up dropping it on the pavement in a blaze of sparks and grinding a grinding of gears. He couldn't get it going again, and she had to help and push it. When the driver took his helmet off, she realized it was Dave. She said, I didn't know it was him

or I wouldn't have got on the bike. He's an idiot. I love this. Billy badass biker, Dave picked in, can't drive a Harley. Fascinating. I'm not surprised at all, actually. Also, I'm guessing he was trying to show off to Renata, so for all his insistence that sex workers were beneath him, I would bet he had a crush on her. Just a theory. Months later, Renata tried to report Sherry missing. She told the police about Dave, about the farm, about Dave's strange, invalid brother. It's unclear if the police ever spoke to either of the pictons. Marnie Fry was the next girl to go missing.

She was a troubled young woman who had gotten hooked on drugs. just 14. Parents tried desperately to get her help, but nothing stuck. Eventually, they had to kick her out, trying tough love to help their daughter get sober. Marnie was understanding. In her head, she knew she wasn't a rule follower. Stevie Cameron wrote, all she wanted was a good time. When she was 18, she got pregnant, and knowing that she couldn't take care of it, she begged her parents to adopt the little girl named Brittany. Despite her rebellious nature, she stayed in touch with her family, calling her parents multiple times a week. They kept trying to convince her to get sober. They told her they'd pay for her to go to detox and rehab. They'd help her however they

could. She always promised soon. In May of 1997, she tried to get sober by going to detox, but it didn't last. She went back to using drugs and moved to one of the many flop houses in downtown Vancouver. On August 29th, she called her parents in anticipation of her birthday. They told her they sent some money and clothes for her. When she never followed up to thank them for the gift, they got worried and called the police. The police told them, she's probably on a cruise. Call back after Christmas. So, super helpful, as always, Vancouver PD, thank you.

Marnie's last social security check was September 24th, but after that, she was never seen or heard from again. That same month, 23-year-old Cindy Beck also disappeared. As a child, she had a gift for equestrian sports. Her life came off the tracks when she gave up her son for adoption. She drifted, depressed. She became addicted to drugs, and her friends who had loved her exuberant and loving personality could barely recognize her.

She was dope-sick, skinny, and dejected. Like Marnie, she missed her birthday phone call, which her parents said she never did. In photos taken toward the end of her life, Cindy looks at least 10 years older than she was. Her eyes are dull and her thick mane of hair was frizzy and unkempt. A frustrating part of this case is that some of the only photos that are available of these women are when they're at their rock bottom. Mug shots or snapshots taken in flop houses. I was struggling to find a good photo of Cindy, but then I noticed that some lovely soul posted a photo on her Find a Grave Memorial, and it's how I think we should all remember her.

She's smiling, looking at a horse as it leans toward her face and a wide field of green grass, bright sky overhead. Someone else left a memorial message, writing, I did not know you, but you still and will always matter. Cindy Felix was the 12th missing girl in 1997. She was an addict and a sex worker who had a sweet tooth and loved her daughter like crazy. Unfortunately, we don't know a lot about every missing woman in this case.

Maria LaLiberde and Stephanie Lane both went missing in 1997, but unfortunately we don't know a ton about them. After Cindy Felix was Andrea Borehaven, who was 25. She was a funny kid, and despite being raised in a group home, was cheerful. She was homeless at the time she went missing and was doing sex work to pay for her drug habit. One thing about her routine was consistent, though, and that was the fact that she always called her mama. We don't know exactly when she went missing or where she went missing,

missing from, but her mom was sure she was gone by Christmas. A few days after Christmas, Carrie Kosky went missing. She was 38 and battling a nasty drug addiction. She was less than 100 pounds and was constantly in a cycle of drugs and sex work. She kept promising her family that she would try to get sober. She had a megawatt smile and loved dancing. When her family tried to report her missing, the police officer said that the women missing from the downtown east side were just junkies and hookers, don't waste our time. In total, 13 women went missing in 1997, and not one disappearance was investigated. The missing women were Maria La Liberté, Stephanie Lane, Sharon Ward, Kara Ellis, Kelly Little,

Helen Hallmark, Janet Henry, Jacqueline Murdoch, Marnie Fry, Sherry Irving, Cindy Beck, Cindy Felix, Andrea Borehaven, and Carrie Kosky. All of these women worked around the same block. Their absence was felt in the neighborhood. It was Christmas Eve 1997 and Willie Picton was bored. His brother, Dave, was busy with his kids and his latest lady friend, and there just wasn't much happening on the farm. Most of the sex workers in Vancouver were being fed and housed by various charities

and church groups for the holiday, so most of his targets were in for the night. He would have to make his own fun. later he recalled this night with great delight he said i was a really hard asshole he grabbed two piglets and drove 30 minutes to the downtown east side and he let the pigs out the two poor little ones were scared and exhausted but were picked up by the aspca and we hope given a new home god i oh man he's done worse things obviously but this i hope those little babies lived out the rest of their days wearing custom-made pajamas and being hand-fed grapes by the fire. Poor little piglets. I know, they were so cold. Later, Willie described that night like this. And this is just like a perfect example of his storytelling, like, which is like weirdly engaging. It was the night before Christmas and all through the streets, not a soul to be found except two

little pigs and two working girls. It was comical for the first little while until tragedy set in. So what happened is one of the cops chasing the pigs up a hill, the other cops chasing the pig down the hill. Now, when he goes down the hill, I would. would love to see him wipe out. Anyway, anyway, came across there. It was comical for the first little while, but I kind of liked it. I liked it. Yeah, how often do you see a pig chasing after a pig?

Fucking cop shop. Anyway, this ended in Gastown, and I was on the other side of Hastings. So anyway, I let them go and got the fuck out of there. And then it says the pigs are in the SPA, and we're waiting for the owner to come forward. I said, yeah, right. And that was December 24th, 1997. Despite Willie's gift for telling lies, his car was seen by a police officer running plates that night, so this one at least was the truth. I don't know why, but this story creeps me out so

much. Yeah, it's incredibly creepy. It shows the sadism, you know, that he just enjoyed watching those poor little piggies be scared and enjoyed watching the cops trying to catch him. It was probably freezing cold. Sadism. Yeah. 1998 was a new year for the women in downtown Vancouver. The women knew they were in danger, and they knew that the authorities were

doing nothing to help them. Sarah DeVries was terrified of becoming another statistic. She was a gorgeous woman with dark curly hair and big brown eyes. Almost everyone who met her fell for her, even just a little. She was brilliant but struggled in school because she was one of the only non-white students there. She'd been adopted and her family lived in a predominantly white area. When her parents divorced, like most kids, she blamed herself and started acting out,

shoplifting and stealing from her peers. At just 14 years old, adult men would pay her for sex, and she ran away from home. Like most women who landed on the downtown east side of Vancouver, she became addicted to cocaine and heroin and was HIV positive. She started living with a pimp and drug dealer named Bernie Dubois and had two children. The first was Bernie's, a little girl named Jeannie. She was born addicted to heroin and had to be given morphine late. bottles to wean her off without putting her into severe withdrawals. Poor little bubba. Next came Ben, who was a product of sexual assault and was malnourished and premature.

Both kids were sent to live with Sarah's mom, and Sarah supported this decision. She felt like they were better off without her. Despite her addiction to drugs, she was kind of a health nut. She ate healthy and exercised. She became known around the neighborhood for her pension for inline skating around on the street. She was a little bit of her. She was a lot of a bit of a social butterfly and had a ton of friends. In her journal, she described multiple encounters with violent men and her fear of becoming another statistic. She was frustrated with the police. She wrote, if she were some square John's little girl, shit would hit the goddamn fan. Front page news for weeks, people protesting in the streets, while the happy hooker just starts

to decay like she didn't matter, expendable, dishonorable. It's a shame that society is so unfeeling. She was some woman's little girl gone astray, lost from the right path. She was quite the poet, and in one particularly chilling entry, she wrote this poem. Woman's body found beaten beyond recognition. You sip your coffee, taking a drag of your smoke, turning the page, taking a bite of your toast. Just another day. Just another death. Just one more thing you so easily forget. You and your soft sheltered life just go on and on for nobody special from your world is gone. Just another day, just another death, just another Hastings Street whore sentenced to death. Anybody else got goosebumps? Yeah. The last person that saw Sarah alive

was Bernie Dubois. He said she rushed into his house in a hurry and wanted a jacket because it was cold. She grabbed her makeup bag but left her purse. She'd be back later, she told him. It was his birthday and they had to celebrate. After that, she was gone. When her worried friend, Wayne Lang, tried to report her missing, the police gave him the same song and dance they gave Kara Ellis's sister-in-law. Only family can report someone missing. So Wayne reached out to her sister Maggie, who was still close with Sarah. When she tried to report her missing, the officer in charge let her declare Sarah missing, but said that he had five other cases on his desk, and Sarah was probably just out partying. The detective did reach out to Wayne, but kind of hand-waved his story.

Wayne went around downtown and put up missing persons posters, but none of Sarah's many friends ever saw her again. Wayne went to a Vancouver Sun reporter named Lindsay Kines who'd been following the story of the missing girls for years now. Kines was convinced that Sarah's disappearance was linked to the other missing girls. In his investigation, he interviewed the families and friends of the missing women, and he also tried interviewing the police. He wrote an article that ran on July 3rd titled Police Target Big Increase in Missing Women Cases. And it, Kinds, outlines the problem of the disappearing sex workers,

and the public reacted strongly. Wayne Ling was receiving so many calls about the case that he started recording his conversations, hoping to get some info to find his missing friend. A man named Bill Hisscocks called and wanted to tell a story. He told Wayne that he worked for Dave Picton and sometimes helped out at the Picton farm. Bill and Lisa yelled, Willie's bestie for the resty, were placed in the same foster home temporarily when they were kids. And just so you know, Lisa hates Bill. She insists that they had no sibling connection at all and she thinks he's a terrible person, which is ironic, I think, considering who her best friend is.

Despite that, she did get him a job working for the Pictons when he had fallen on some hard times. Anywho, he called Wayne Lang and told him he was pretty sure that Willie Pickton was responsible for all the missing women. You see, the farm was just lousy with women's clothes and IDs and jewelry and purses, and he was starting to suspect that his boss was up to no good, especially after the incident with Wendy Lynn in the previous year. Luckily for everyone, Wayne recorded the conversation. And I know, I know you're thinking, why? Why is this dude yapping to some rando instead of going to the police? Well, what would you do if I told you he did?

Before he ever called Wayne Lang, he called the Vancouver Police Department, like a bunch of times. And he was repeatedly told that there was nothing that could be done with that information. Oh, my God. I just, I can't. And it's so creepy to me that, like, there was just clothes, like women's clothes everywhere. Oh, yeah. Ugh. Ugh.

11 women went missing in 1998. Those that we can link to Picton were Inga Hall, a German immigrant who enjoyed dancing and fast food. Sheila Egan, who was once described as so fresh and young she should have still been in school, but she was a party girl who didn't know when to stop partying. She was seen hitchhiking one night in August and never seen again. Also missing were Julie Young, Angela Jardine, Tanya Emery, Michelle Gurney, Marcella Crazen, and Ruby, Ann Hardy. Remember how we said there were some good investigators on this case? Well, two of them were Staff Sergeant Doug McKay Dunn and Constable Dave Dixon. McKay Dunn headed up community-based

policing and one of the areas he oversaw was the downtown east side. Dixon was working the beat there and in 1998 he walked into McKay Dunn's office with some worrying numbers. He said that there had been a noticeable increase in missing women's cases since 1995 and he thought that something was a miss. He'd already pursued the bad date list provided by the women's outreach organizations but was unable to find a pattern. And Willie wasn't a suspect at this point, but he was on the bad date list and he was well known for that encounter with Wendy Lynn Einstein or the previous year. Dixon tried desperately to get anyone to take interest in the case. In fact, when he tried, his colleagues told him that he'd, quote, been down there too long and viewed him as a social worker.

Oh, my God. Yeah, God forbid you care about the community you please. I know. Like, they say it like it puts a bad taste in their mouth, that social worker. Ugh. McKay Dunn told him that he agreed, he was worried, and that they'd call in Kim Rosmo for some help. Rosmo, though, remember he's the geographical profiler, was on leave until September because of speaking engagements. While those two were doing their best to gather as much information as possible for Rosmo, the official line from the Vancouver Police Department was that there was no serial killer. I mean, their bodies hadn't even been found.

There's no such thing as a murder without a body. There is no war in Bossing, say. Nothing to see here, folks. It was probably just regular, d'agular street violence. Or maybe these destitute women were taking a nice, relaxing vacay. But don't worry. We're putting our best men on it. The Vancouver Police Department had previously had one guy doing missing persons cases,

and now they had two. That's a 100% increase. When Kynes ran his second story about the missing women in September, outlining that there had been 40 women that disappeared since 1971, the police were still standing 10 toes down on the idea that there was no serial killer. When Kim Rosnoe got back to work, he analyzed the data and yet again confirmed what Project Eclipse had told them all in 1984. There was a high likelihood that there was a killer on the loose under their noses. Rosmo and McKay Dunn ran the report up the ladder.

When it hit the police chief's desk, he agreed. They needed to act immediately. He sent the report to the inspector that would be in charge of the investigation, Fred Biddlecombe. And when they did, Biddlecombe reacted, you know, normally. He just stomped into the police chief's office and threw a little tantrum, screaming, How dare you tell me how to do my job? You see, Biddlecombe hated Kim Rosmo and thought his geographical profiling was bunk. He, along with several other officers in the department, did their best to make Rosmo's

life hell. They'd give him the wrong times to come to meetings and then berate him when he was late. They'd ignore him and refuse to let him sit with them at lunch. Well, these men were having a dick measuring contest. Women were dying. Unbelievable. Does this feel like deja vu to y'all? Because it feels like deja vu to me. The police are repeatedly so frustratingly Blaise at every single turn that I almost want to leave some of this out to save time, but it's like so crucial to talk about. A huge reason this case got so bad is because of the insistence of the police to bury their freaking heads in the sand. That's why Lindsay Kinds' role was so important. He was putting public pressure on the police, and that is one of the functions of journalism in crime. I mean, it can be a great

asset. In response to the bad press, the VPD put together Project Amelia. The project, helmed by Laurie Schenner, wasn't an admission of a serial killer, but instead a review of missing persons cases. Rosmoe would offer some help when needed. As they started reviewing files, they realized there were even more missing women than they initially thought. But nope, still no serial killer. Don't worry. They did follow up on Bill Hicks' story about Willie Picton, though. He referred them to Lisa Yelds, who trusted the police about as far as she could throw him.

She pretty much refused to talk to him, especially after she heard that a tip from Bill sent them, but the conversation got her mind spinning about Willie again. She guessed that he could be a killer. She sometimes wondered if some of the meat she'd gotten from the Picton farm was actually human meat. She contracted hepatitis C, and that was the only thing she could think of that could have exposed her.

Bill Hiscox wasn't the only friend of Dave's that was suspicious about Willie. A guy named Scott Chubb was, too. Scott worked for Dave as a driver for years, and according to him, he told Dave, get Willie off the street to stop the murdering. Now, did he really say that, or was he fibbing? We're not, sure. Most of Scotty Boy's stories come from his time as a confidential informant, and he's kind of got a tenuous relationship with the truth. Most of his time, as a CI, he was constantly telling the police, I need money. So he might have just been telling stories to get paid.

Sure. Scott was pretty scared of Dave, actually. His biggest concern about coming forward was that Dave might find out. Most of the stories we get about the Picton boys come from Scott. He's an interesting fellow. Most of the pictures we have of him, he's wearing trendy 2000 sunglasses with frosted tips. We had to include that because it's such a funny, like, he's like this big manly man and he just has like... He's got the guy here here.

Looks like he's headed to flavor. Yes. Part of Dave's business was selling topsoil for landscaping and home projects. At the start, Dave took topsoil from his own property to sell to customers, but before long, that well had run dry. Instead, he and his crew would take dirt from elsewhere, sift it for detritus, and sell it. Even dirt that was contaminated with pollutants, so that's good. Scott remembered that once, at a job site, Dave sexually assaulted a female flagger. he was found guilty but he only had to pay a thousand dollar fine and go on probation the woman told a newspaper you could smell him before you saw him he had no respect for women at all

dave as far as we can tell was into all kinds of shit he was certainly trafficking women both on behalf of his brother and on behalf of the hell's angels he was also trafficking drugs which is how willie had such easy access to them and he was potentially still running a chop shop generally Dave Picton was a certified scumbag. He was up to his ears in scum, the scumiest. Either way, Scott Chubbs certainly suspected that Willie was responsible for the growing number of missing women. You couldn't swing a piglet around the Picton farm without hitting a woman's ID or some clothes or jewelry. Women were constantly coming and not going. Scott was sure that Dave knew his brother was a murderer, but when confronted by Scott, Dave did nothing. At the beginning of 1999, Jacqueline McDonnell went missing. She was just 22 and had a three-year-old daughter.

Her struggles began when she started dating a man who pressured her to do drugs with him. Once she did, it was all over. She lost custody of her baby after she left her boyfriend and started to get back on her feet. Then she started sex work. Everybody loved Jackie. She was hopeful and fun and smart as a whip. unfortunately she was also a rolling stone and by the time somebody noticed she was gone

she'd been missing for months Brenda Wolfe was a hustler she worked as a bartender and a bouncer officially but sometimes had to do sex work to make ends meet and feed her addiction to prescription pills whereas some women that picked and targeted were teeny tiny waifs Brenda was a strong intimidating woman at least physically as a bouncer she could take control of several grown men at once

In reality, she was more of a gentle giant, kind of shy. She went missing in February of 1999 after missing a meeting with her social worker. She left behind her children. Remember our old friend Gina Houston, the one who helped Willie find girls? You didn't think we'd never talk about her again, did you? In the early months of 1999, Gina met Lynn Ellingson. Lynn was down on her luck, staying in his shelter after a breakup with a violent asshole of a boy. boyfriend. She was struggling with alcoholism and addiction to cocaine. Her son was living with her

mom and she was doing whatever it took to make ends meet. Luckily for her, Gina knew this great guy. He was super nice, had a lot of money and could give them some drugs. His name was Willie. Lynn would love him. Now, Lynn never worked for Willie as a sex worker, more like a personal assistant. She'd help with Dave's businesses and help clean up after Willie as best she could. On top of that, she'd grocery shop and cook for him as well. Willie let her stay in the second room of his trailer and he'd provide alcohol and drugs. Lynn became a fixture on the Picton farm. Willie's biggest weakness is one we often see in killers.

He just couldn't shut the fuck up. Luckily for him, people either didn't take him seriously or were too scared to share the information. There was a man who worked for the Pictons named Andy Bellwood. Bellwood had a nasty addiction to crack cocaine and had a pretty lengthy rap sheet for theft and fraud. He also lived on the farm in Willie's back room. Willie asked him to help steal stuff once or twice, so I guess he thought that was the green light to start running his mouth. He asked Andy if he wanted to go pick up a sex worker with him, and when Andy declined, Willie decided to share what kind of stuff he got up to with them. Andy shared the

entire conversation, and it's a chilling look into Willie's M.O. This, like all the other quotes, is from the Stevie Cameron book. He reached underneath his mattress and grabbed a pair of handcuffs. He pulled out a belt and he pulled out a wire, I believe with a handle on each end of it. It looked like piano wire. And he proceeded to tell me

what he did was with these hookers. He told me he would pick him up downtown. He would draw them in with drugs or money. He had difficult times getting him to come to the farm because of, you know, they're very nervous about going out of their area. Yeah, if he could entice, him to come to the farm, of course, being drug addicts or whatnot, it would be an easy way

to get him to come to the farm. He would put him on the bed, bring him into his room from what it was explained to me, then do him doggy style on the bed. That would be to have the woman on her knees with her face facing the bed doing her from behind. Yes, we know what doggy style is. I know. I was like, I didn't want to cut that out because like, I don't know, but I'm like, It's pretty obvious. He would grab their hands and bring one back slowly, bring the other back, handcuff them, and strangle them. He got on the bed and motioned to me as if there was a woman laying there,

pretending to stroke her hair and kind of motioning with his hand that he would grab her hand and bring it around to her back, although there was no woman on the bed. That's about it. He told me he was doing him doggy style. He was on the bed on his knees. He would just tell him it was going to be all right. He kept saying, it was going to be all right.

Things are going to be okay now. That's a good girl, and things would be over. He commented on how much people bleed. From there, I was told they were taken out to the barn, and he explained to me how pigs eat pretty much everything of human remains. Anything that wasn't eaten would go into these barrels and take into the waste plant with the rest of the waste, you know, with the pig waste.

I remember him telling me that he'd hang him in the barn and bleed him and gut them. Whatever the pigs didn't eat, he'd throw into the barrel. After telling Andy what he liked doing to these women, Willie asked him if he wanted to go looking for sex workers again. Andy again declined and Willie fell back on the old schoolyard taunt. What are you? Scared? Still, Andy said no. It seems like maybe Willie may have wished he'd never told Andy anything

because soon afterwards, he called Lynn Ellingson, who coincidentally hated Andy Bellwood. kind of like a, I don't know, nemesis with benefits. They had sex a couple times. And Willie told her that Andy had been stealing from him and could she please ask her piece of shit on again, off again, abusive boyfriend to come over? Lynn readily agreed. And when Andy returned home that night, Lynn's ex and some other guys were there waiting

for him. Willie accused Andy of stealing some tools and demanded that he tell them where the tools had gone. The men held Andy down and beat him senseless. He begged and begged to be let go, insisting that he hadn't stolen anything. Eventually, Willie let him go, telling him that he'd better return the items or he'd be dead, but not before making him clean up his own blood. Bellwood left and made his way to Gina Houston's place. Gina was unempathetic.

She said, I told you. You shouldn't be over there. Bad things happen over there. Andy filed a report and left Port Coquitlam. He never came back to the farm. Bad things happen there, and yet she's continually sending girls there. Yeah. Gross.

With her nemesis gone, Lynn took on even more responsibility. She learned to drive the big trucks and helped run the office. Lynn, like most everyone who worked or lived on the Picton farm, couldn't help but notice the sheer number of women's clothes and accessories around, the amount of women that came to the farm and never left. She decided that she'd asked Dave about it. She asked to speak with him privately, and she said, I heard that there were arms and legs in the freezer. Almost like a switch flip, Dave slapped her in the face. She tried to run away, but Dave gave chase,

and she had to break a window to get away. After that, she was persona non grata on the farm, according to Dave. But Willie said she could stay if she hid from Dave. After that, Lynn says, came the incident. On March 20th, a friend of hers asked to borrow money from Willie, and he agreed and asked her to come along. The pair drove into town where Willie met with the friend while Lynn got a drink at the bar. When they left, Willie took her to dinner.

Afterwards, he started driving around. Lynn realized they weren't heading home, and Willie assured her they were just going for a drive. As they drove, though, Lynn saw that they were driving along one of the more notorious streets for sex workers. Willie, for some reason, started driving in zigzags, jumping the curb several times. A police officer pulled him over and confirmed he was sober before letting them go. Lynn was starting to feel withdrawal symptoms and told Willie she needed to get high. He stopped and spoke to a dealer and paid for her drugs. Then Willie asked her if she minded if he picked up a sex worker.

Lynn said no, and they pulled over to speak to a dark-haired woman. She agreed to get in the car, only after confirming that Lynn was going to the same place, and they returned to the farm. As they sat in the car, the girl and Lynn chatted. Lynn thought she was really nice and complimented her on her red nail polish. The woman and Lynn smoked some crack together and Willie eventually took the girl back to his room. After smoking some more, Lynn thought she heard someone scream outside. When she checked Willie's room, it was empty, and when she looked outside, she saw that the barn door was open.

She said, I just started walking to the barn. As I started approaching the barn, there was a really rude smell. It was awful. I got to the front door, the doors of the barn, and pushed the door open, and all I could see were these legs, these feet dangling. So I was standing there. I just kind of froze, and I yelled Willie, and he came from behind the door, and he grabbed me by my arm. I had to go in. Now we walked to the table. It was a really shiny table. I remember it just being like bright. There was a light. It wasn't the light that was on. It wasn't the normal light. It wasn't the normal light.

was light in the back, the back of the barn, kind of just the way it was angled, and he made me stand at the end of the table. I remember feeling really not well. I was going to be sick. I had nothing in my stomach. I was just dry heaving. It was, the odor was awful. I seen these legs. I didn't move my eyes around. I was just in shock. And at my eye level, I could see these legs, toes, red nail polish on them. They were colored. I seen hair on the table. And I don't know what else was on the table, but it wasn't pretty. Willie told her, it's okay. She's just like a pig anyways. It's all right. It's going to be all right. As he spoke to her, he cut the body and pulled some entrails out. The scene was grisly and bloody and Lynn could only stare. Then Willie said,

you say a word to anybody, do anything. You'll be right beside her. Lynn promised that she wouldn't. She just wanted to drink and do drugs. If he could provide that, she promised she wouldn't tell a soul. Willie called her a cab and gave her money for drugs. She promised him she'd be back in a few days. And she was, but scared. She told Willie she was getting back with her abusive ex. Several instances after that, Lynn overdosed on the farm and Willie called the ambulance every time. Her story matches up with the disappearance of Georgina Pappen, who was reported missing the day after Willie Pickedon was pulled over in Vancouver.

Her description matches the one that Lynn gave, dark hair with fluffy bangs. Georgina was the mother of seven children, the youngest of which were a set of twins born a few months before she went missing. She had a glow about her, something that drew people to her. Like many women in the story, she had a really difficult childhood and her life was ravaged by drugs. Now, Lynn Ellingson isn't the most reliable of narrators. A lot of people think she's lying about this, but the fact of the matter is that her story doesn't change. She's super fuzzy about the time and dates, but at this point in 1999, she was doing drugs every day. I would imagine that

she would have a hard time remembering exact dates. The fact that the core of her story doesn't change, though, is a good indicator of truth. Some things don't line up. For example, there was no record of a cab being called to the picked-in residence that night, and Georgina was seen sitting with Willie at a bar around that time rather than randomly being picked up on the street, but the bones of the story remain the same. Okay, look, I am really sorry, campers. The story is just too big for us to cover in just three parts. We really, really want to do it justice. So this is our second to last part, Pinky Promise. If you must send hate mail, send it to me, not Whitney, but also, Please don't, because I'm really proud of this series, and I'll cry.

Yeah, I voted for three parts. Stupid Katie, wanting to, like, do a good job and stuff. But don't worry, we will have the finale for you next week, and we mean it this time. She knows, I told her. You got one more. For now, lock your doors, light your lights, and stay safe until we get together again around the true crime campfire. And as always, we want to send a grateful shout out to a few of our lovely parents. patrons. Thank you so much to Stephanie, The Heat Seeker, Lauren, Sapphire, Molly, Karee, Karee, Karee, Colleen, and Dottie. We appreciate y'all

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