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Victoria figures large in anthology of B.C. crimes

Certainly, it’s not our most distinguished claim to fame. In a new book about crime in British Columbia, Victoria looms disconcertingly large. Victoria journalist Paul Willcocks is the author of Dead Ends: B.C.

Adrian Chamberlain mugshot genericCertainly, it’s not our most distinguished claim to fame. In a new book about crime in British Columbia, Victoria looms disconcertingly large.

Victoria journalist Paul Willcocks is the author of Dead Ends: B.C. Crime Stories, the latest in a series from the University of Regina Press recounting Canadian misdeeds. In his 211-page paperback, Willcocks offers tightly written accounts of 40 crimes spanning B.C.’s history.

This city features in tales about con men Ian Thow and Christopher Rocancourt, politician Bob McClelland’s escort-service scandal, Stephen Reid’s Cook Street bank robbery and the Huenemann killings. And there’s the sad tale of Leo Mantha, who slashed his gay lover to death in Esquimalt and, in 1959, was the last man to be hanged in B.C.

Of course, Willcocks casts his net much wider than Victoria. We learn about Clifford Olson and Robert Pickton, whose serial killings are among the most infamous in Canadian history. There’s the story of how Chief Dan Cranmer’s plans for a potlatch on Village Island (the practice was then outlawed) were thwarted a century ago. In a display of supreme colonial arrogance, the seized items were sold off.

The book’s range even extends to the time Boston Bruin enforcer Marty McSorley hammered Vancouver Canuck Donald Brashear at GM Place, leading to a charge of assault — and a debate about whether hockey should be exempt from such laws.

Dead Ends is replete with larger-than-life characters. Some criminals are curiously sympathetic. Outlaw Bill Miner (the so-called Gentleman Bandit) apologized during a 1904 train robbery, saying to a shivering employee: “We won’t keep you long.”

Willcocks is a veteran journalist who was publisher of the Times Colonist from 1992 to 1996. Since then, he has written about provincial politics for the Vancouver Sun, the Globe and Mail, Reuters and other outlets.

His interest in crime writing dates back to the 1970s. As a 25-year-old, Willcocks spent six months as the police and court reporter for the Red Deer Advocate.

“I used to go into the police station every morning to do cop checks with a little silver sheriff’s badge from [the theme park in] Frontier Town, New York, which really impressed them,” Willcocks said with a grin. “You’d hear about amazing crimes every day.”

When the University of Regina Press told Willcocks the B.C. crime book must contain 40 stories, he was initially daunted. However, after family and friends got word of his project, he was overwhelmed with suggestions.

“The challenge,” Willcocks said, “was getting it down to 40.”

Although some of the most infamous criminals in Dead Ends — such as Olson and Pickton — are already well chronicled, Willcocks decided they had to be included in any comprehensive look at B.C. crime. However, he found the most fascinating characters were lesser lights such as Rocancourt, the flamboyant con-man who was arrested in 2001 leaving the Oak Bay Beach Hotel.

The French son of a prostitute and an alcoholic, Rocancourt duped his victims with outrageous fabrications. He told people he was a Russian aristocrat, the son of Sophia Loren and a Formula One driver. Renting a $1,500-a-night suite at Whistler, he gulled people into giving him cash and even a $26,000 Rolex watch.

Rocancourt’s victims needed little convincing.

“He said in his memoir he’d go into a place like Whistler, find the most expensive restaurant, the most expensive bar, set up there, act really big-shot-y. And people would come to him,” Willcocks said.

Another silver-tongued con-man was Ian Thow, a Victoria investment adviser who used bilked funds to acquire a $5.5-million mansion, fancy cars, a yacht and a helicopter. He became a prominent and popular citizen partly by being active in local charities such as Cops for Cancer and raising funds for the Victoria Police Department.

“It should have been obvious,” Willcocks said. “Ultimately, the guy was a mutual-fund salesman, so what was he doing with a helicopter and six cars? But I guess people wanted to believe.”

In the literary world, crime books are typically strong sellers. Willcocks believes our fascination with crime is not merely a fascination with murders and gore, however.

“We’re curious about criminals generally and what makes us not like them,” he said. “I think it’s mostly about where these people come from, how their lives intersect ours. And we like to scare ourselves a bit, too, I think.”