No Easy Ride: Reflections on My Life in the RCMP (28 page)

I later learned that one of the division staff relations representatives whom RCMP members appointed to act on behalf of members with grievances had taken up Constable Hunter’s case and instigated an appeals process. It took two years and several boards, but the decision against Hunter was reversed and he was reinstated. When he was phoned about this news, his wife answered, as Roy was not home. The party disclosed the news of the reinstatement and told his wife to pass it along. It was an unnecessarily terse communication from management to someone who had been waiting for this decision for months. Constable Hunter relocated to Port Hardy at the north end of Vancouver Island and returned to serving his people, the RCMP and Canada.

My travels to meet with First Nations people or visit outlying detachments took me to many locations in northern Vancouver Island and the adjacent smaller islands—surely the most spectacular setting in all of Canada, if not North America. Many of our detachments were located on coastal islands or on the edge of remote areas of the mainland that could only be reached by ferry or helicopter. I had purchased a cruising boat for my own enjoyment and would occasionally use it to travel to detachments, where I conducted inspections and interviewed members. Travelling in this manner also allowed me to visit isolated villages and evaluate community satisfaction with the RCMP. During my off-duty time, I often went salmon fishing.

The largely unpopulated wilderness of the West Coast has long been attractive to marijuana growers. Two major drug busts occurred during my tenure on Vancouver Island, and both indicated to me that the war on drugs long waged in both Canada and the United States was being lost. A sophisticated grow operation was discovered on a remote island in a pristine area called Desolation Sound. Anything but desolate, it is an ocean paradise frequented by pleasure boaters from all over the world. It is vast, with mountainous terrain, and only accessible by boat or plane. Although the waters of the sound are frequently travelled, the coast and islands are virtually uninhabited. Police regularly fly over the entire area, looking for the distinctive green that identifies marijuana plants. In many areas, the natural vegetation is so dense that discerning marijuana grow ops is a challenging task. Such was the case on an island in Desolation Sound.

A woman disclosed that her unfaithful lover was involved in a major illicit marijuana operation, even describing its location. With the assistance of one of the police patrol catamarans and an emergency response team, the drug squad swooped down on the island. Even when on top of the location, it was virtually impossible to determine its scope. Eventually, a hothouse almost half the size of a football field was discovered. It was illuminated with artificial light supplied by commercial-sized generators and irrigated by an automatic system. The building was ingeniously camouflaged and built around gigantic Douglas firs, making it completely invisible from the air. Thousands of juvenile and mature marijuana plants were thriving under careful nurturing. As there was no one present at the scene, we hid all evidence of our presence and awaited the arrival of the amateur botanists. After a while, a large vessel appeared, ostensibly to take on a load of marijuana. The men aboard were arrested, and the vessel and all paraphernalia were seized. It was impossible to determine how long the operation had been in existence or how many marijuana crops had been taken off in the past. It was estimated that a single crop would generate $9 million on the street. A small helicopter was also seized and several individuals were charged under the Narcotic Control Act.

Another major drug case occurred in Courtenay. A concerned citizen reported strange comings and goings in a neighbouring home. Large cube vans were arriving late at night and unloading unidentifiable cargo into an outbuilding next to the residence. As the activity had been going on for some weeks, the drug squad set up surveillance. Over a period of time, they found that the initial cargo was being off-loaded at a small ocean cove on the west coast of Vancouver Island and transported to a residence. One of the van drivers was identified as someone who had previously been involved in drug trafficking. A search warrant was obtained for the suspicious building, and one night, when delivery activity was at its peak, the drug squad, backed up by the emergency response team, descended. Another well-organized operation was discovered, along with two tons of hashish, valued at millions of dollars. The bales of hashish had obviously come from a mother-ship operation that moved drugs from Mexico up the coast and delivered them to remote locations. Once at the destination, the material was packed into tidy wooden crates professionally labelled “BC Fish Product” and loaded back into the vans for shipping to eastern Canada and the USA.

Once again, several were charged under the Narcotic Control Act. The drugs were ordered destroyed, which presented a logistical problem since a large commercial furnace was needed to efficiently dispose of the huge volume of hashish. We made arrangements with a pulp mill to use their blast furnaces for the purpose. When burning day arrived, the drugs were transported via truck, accompanied once again by the drug squad and emergency response team. With security at a high level, members carried out the demanding physical task of heaving the hashish bales into the furnace. Great plumes of white smoke rose from the stacks as many of the workers stood by, mourning all the highs that were not to be. That particular afternoon, as the seagulls swooped over the mill, we wondered what kind of psychedelic trips they might be experiencing.

Both of these major drug operations would have gone undetected had citizens not passed on information to the police, which makes me wonder how many others operate with impunity. In spite of millions of dollars and untold manpower hours expended by law enforcement, illegal drug activity continues growing at an unprecedented rate. It is difficult not to make comparisons with the prohibition of alcohol in the 1920s and ’30s. When alcohol was interdicted, it was forced underground, creating a perfect environment for organized crime to flourish. In addition to the loss of revenue through taxation, governments devoted immeasurable law-enforcement resources to banishing the manufacture, sale and transport of alcohol. When they realized the futility of the process, prohibition was repealed and the production and sale of alcohol was again legalized and taxed. The money and manpower expended on the drug war dwarfs that spent enforcing prohibition, yet law makers fail to see history repeating itself.

Rex Forteau was one of the most successful northern Vancouver Island drug traffickers. Try as they might, the drug squad seemed incapable of nabbing him. Because he was Metis and had such great success eluding prosecution, the local Natives believed he was a shaman who could not be harmed. Forteau’s profits allowed him to live a life of opulence. He owned a large property just outside the city of Campbell River, countless boats and vehicles and a resort in the BC Interior. Women were at his beck and call. It was almost as if the RCMP had given up on him, as he brazenly continued to ply his business without interference, likely raking in millions of dollars.

Forteau’s only mistake was the company he kept. He frequently associated with Mike Flynn, locally known as a boozer and a cokehead with a monumentally bad temper, especially when he was drunk or high. Forteau and Flynn had picked up a couple of girls, and with George Foot, another associate, drove out into the boonies to have a party. While they were parked on a remote logging road south of Campbell River, Flynn got into an argument with one of the girls. He slapped her, and the other girl tried to intervene. Both girls were seated in the back seat of the vehicle with Foot. Enraged, Flynn pulled out a revolver and shot both girls, killing them instantly. Foot, terrified by what he had seen, dove out of the vehicle and ran into the bush. When the girls failed to return home, their families registered missing-persons’ reports with the Campbell River detachment. Several weeks later, a hiker stumbled onto the shallow gravesites of the two girls and immediately called the RCMP. Detectives soon traced the girls’ last movements, learning that they had been in the company of Forteau, Flynn and Foot at a bar in Campbell River the night they went missing. There was no sign of Forteau or Flynn, but Foot was located and brought in for questioning. When confronted, he became extremely upset and blurted out the complete story.

The RCMP was now hot on the trail of Forteau and Flynn and determined they were hiding out at Forteau’s resort at Babine Lake in central northern BC. They were arrested and brought back to Campbell River to stand trial on two counts of first-degree murder. Once again, it appeared as though Forteau was leading a charmed life. He claimed to be only a witness to the murders, even though it was known he assisted in disposing of the bodies. In spite of Crown objections, Forteau was released on bail, though Flynn was held in custody. However, inexorably, it began to appear that Forteau was no longer invulnerable. One of the murdered girl’s brothers was an affiliate of the Hells Angels chapter in Nanaimo, BC. Unconfirmed intelligence indicated the brother approached the Hells Angels for some assistance in the matter, and possibly revenge.

Prior to his upcoming trial, Forteau was relaxing in his country estate, watching his giant television in his sumptuous living room. The home was alarmed, and the entire property was surveyed by video cameras. While Forteau and his lady sat in the living room, visible through the large picture window, they were mowed down by what was determined to be a .45 calibre machine gun. Forteau died instantly, and his partner was crippled for life. Mysteriously, the alarms and video cameras were not working on the night of the murder. The investigation into Rex Forteau’s murder is ongoing to this day, and the Native people no longer consider him a shaman. Mike Flynn was convicted of two counts of first-degree murder.

A TRAGIC MURDER
that occurred in Courtenay demonstrated clearly the dedication, work ethic, skills and knowledge of younger members. The strangled body of a six-year-old girl was found at the edge of a forested area adjacent to some apartment buildings. The murder of a child throws a community into a state of fear and panic. National and local media shone their glaring lights upon us, and the pressure to determine who was responsible was intense. Investigators worked 24/7 to solve the terrible crime, a good part of that time being voluntary. The eventual encounter with the troubled, youthful killer was a classic example of top-calibre investigational and interrogation techniques. The processing of the scene and all evidence was precise and meticulous. The accused was arrested and eventually convicted and sentenced to life in prison, where he later committed suicide. The case proved to me that the expertise of modern RCMP investigators matches and even surpasses that of previous generations.

Two aspects of my duties on Vancouver Island were new to me. First, I became an emergency response team (ERT) commander. In addition to their routine duties, the dedicated members of the ERT are on call 24/7 to respond to any and all situations requiring expertise in unconventional arrests at sea and on land, weaponry, hostage taking or barricaded persons—virtually anything that takes specialized law-enforcement skills. The ERT consists of a commander, negotiator, police service dog and several sharpshooters. In the case of a hostage taking or barricaded person, once the team is in place, it is the negotiator’s job to make contact with the perpetrator in an attempt to establish rapport. The ultimate decision to continue negotiations, assault the premises or shoot the suspect rests with the commander. Such situations can and do end with fatalities, so the assistance of the ERT is always welcomed by uniformed detachment members encountering these tense situations.