A New Kind of Monster

by Timothy Appleby

  It was not the first time bloggers had been allowed to report from inside a Canadian courtroom, but with the attention the Russ Williams case was getting, this would be by far the biggest venue. The other usual rules remained in place: no photos, no video, no live audio. It was to be a four-day hearing, and perhaps because it was not a trial but rather a largely scripted event, the experiment for the most part worked well, instantly generating heavy traffic on news websites.

  The blogging wasn’t as easy as it might have looked, and the hardest thing, made doubly difficult in such a fiercely competitive environment, was deciding what could be reported and what could not, because much of the evidence was too frightful to describe. And the horrific material was only part of the pressure felt by reporters, all struggling with ever-demanding editors who seemed to want everything, right now. In the pre-Internet era, reporters could think in terms of the next edition, or the next newscast. Now everything was live, with fresh developments and new angles surfacing all the time—sometimes accurate, sometimes not. It was like trying to chase a boulder rolling down a hill.

  One of the first to line up in the cold outside the Belleville courthouse early each morning was seasoned CBC Radio reporter Dave Seglins, who like most crime reporters has seen more than his share of murder and mayhem. Here is part of what he wrote shortly afterward for J-Source, a Canadian Journalism Foundation website:

  On the Friday, once home after things wrapped up, I took the day off to decompress. To my own surprise, and terror, I melted down, incapacitated by several bouts of anxiety, panic and uncontrollable dread that I’ve never felt before—and hope never to again … We journalists pride ourselves on steely nerves, detachment, pushing ourselves to the brink, being able to look into the deep, dark abyss of human potential and report back. What the public—and I fear many in our respective newsrooms—didn’t fully appreciate was that we reporters were enduring this horror show with only a few hours sleep each night. The competition for good seats in the Belleville courthouse was so intense that the keen among us were lining up just before 5 a.m. each and every day to secure our spots. So we began each day exhausted, our defences down. We sat through four gruelling days of unrelenting evil. I didn’t finish work each night until 10 or 11 p.m. Then, I’d slam down some food, a few drinks, and hopefully, my overwrought mind would shut down by just after midnight.

  Seglins’s frayed nerves were a common phenomenon among the press at the Williams hearing, and the only thing that kept most of us on an even keel was each other. Crime reporters tend to be a collegial bunch—far more than in other areas of news, such as, say, political coverage—because the work is often so difficult, and if you don’t need a friend today, you surely will tomorrow.

  It was no accident that the agreed statement of facts covering Williams’s crimes was so complete and so graphic. Crown attorney Lee Burgess and the rest of the prosecution team had made a strategic decision that almost nothing pertinent would be withheld or glossed over. The decision drew a lot of criticism, because the events were so appalling, but it was the right thing to do. The trauma inflicted on Tweed, Belleville, Trenton, Brighton and the Ottawa suburb of Orleans had been so enormous, and the back-story so complex, that only a full rendition of what Williams had done would suffice. All along, the police investigation had been extremely secretive. Now that it was near its end, a truncated account of events assuredly would have stirred suspicions of a cover-up. Instead, the facts came out, and helpful court officials expedited an efficient system that made the court exhibits readily available.

  The hearing began with Williams entering a guilty plea on all eighty-eight charges. One by one, as he stood ramrod-straight in the prisoner’s box, the long list of offenses was read out by the court clerk, beginning with the two counts of first-degree murder and then on through the long series of sexual attacks and house break-ins, beginning in September 2007, in which he either stole lingerie or hunted for it. At the end, he was asked how he pleaded to all eighty-eight. “Guilty, your Honour,” he replied in a clear voice, and sat down—one of the few people in Canadian judicial history to plead guilty to more than one charge of first-degree murder.

  Williams already looked alone, bereft of support, viewed with disgust by almost everyone in the courtroom and by the military, which lost no time in further distancing itself from him. Later the same day, General Walter Natynczyk, Chief of the Defence Staff, issued the following statement on behalf of the Canadian Forces:

  The tragic events surrounding Colonel Russell Williams stunned all Canadians and none more so than the members of the Canadian Forces. Today’s guilty plea is the first step in a healing process that will no doubt take many years. Upon formal conviction we will be in a position to officially begin the administrative process that will lead to Colonel Williams’ release from the Canadian Forces. This will be completed as quickly as possible. While we are confident that justice is prevailing, we recognize that this will not diminish the pain and anguish suffered by the families, friends, and communities so directly affected by these tragic events. We extend our deepest sympathies to those affected, and I reaffirm my commitment to promoting the well-being of the men and women and families of the Canadian Forces.

  After entering his eighty-eight guilty pleas, Williams sat down as Burgess and co-prosecutor Robert Morrison began to read out the lengthy agreed statement of facts, which Burgess advised the court would be “extremely disturbing, the evidence will cause emotional pain for the loved ones of victims.” In the body of the court were close to forty spectators who were either victims or friends and relatives of victims. Jessica Lloyd’s mother and older brother sat side by side, the former clutching a framed portrait of her slain daughter. Looking on from the jury box were OPP lead investigator Detective Inspector Chris Nicholas and Belleville police chief Cory McMullan.

  The events were laid out chronologically, beginning with the first two burglaries in Tweed in 2007 and then methodically detailing how Williams broke into each home, the photographs he took and the items he stole. Many of the photos were shown on the twin TV screens at the front of the courtroom, and the killer would occasionally glance up at them for a moment—never longer.

  As the evidence was presented, it became grimmer and grimmer, as Morrison outlined what he called Williams’s “dangerous escalation.” Some spectators wept, many just shook their heads in disbelief, almost everyone was aghast. After court adjourned at the end of that first day, Andy Lloyd told reporters that as well as being shocked, he was angry. “I have lots of friends with teenage daughters, and it’s terrible. Nobody likes to hear something like that. Sitting in there today and just hearing the stuff he did that doesn’t even involve my sister makes me just as a Canadian angry … as a regular human being it makes me angry.”

  Day two was immeasurably worse, as the prosecution outlined the circumstances of the two sex attacks in Tweed, and then the two ghastly murders. No photos or video clips were shown. Instead, a detailed written synopsis was read out. It was a chronicle of violence and depravation so awful that neither Lloyd’s brother nor her mother were present in court to hear how she died. As Burgess reached the point in his narrative, near the end of Lloyd’s ordeal, when she said to Williams, “If I die, will you tell my mom I love her,” the sound of weeping filled the courtroom.

  Burgess spoke for everybody. “We are a community transformed by his crimes. And no doubt the feelings are the same in the Ottawa suburb of Orleans … And what makes this more despicable is that this was a man considered above reproach. He betrayed this community and he betrayed the military … No doubt he laughed at us as he [pursued his double life].” Recounting the murder of Comeau, and how she fought for her life, the prosecutor asked rhetorically: “Can there be any greater contrast of courage and cowardice? Can there be any greater contrast of evil and good?”

  The agreed statement of facts complete, Williams rose once again and was formally convicted on all charges.

  On day three, the court w
atched and heard segments of his ten-hour interview with Detective Sergeant Smyth on February 7, in which he had confessed, calmly describing the two murders and how he had carried them out. There is a moment near the beginning of the interrogation, before he realizes he’s trapped, where he looks up and grins confidently at the police video camera recording the encounter. As he did so, cries of disgust rippled through the courtroom.

  The court also released photo exhibits of letters Williams had written to his wife and to his victims during a break in that interrogation, after he confessed. Smyth had asked him if he wanted to do so and he had said yes.

  To his wife, Mary Elizabeth Harriman, he wrote:

  Dearest Mary Elizabeth, I love you, Sweet [illegible]. I am so very sorry for having hurt you like this. I know you’ll take good care of sweet Rosie [their cat]. I love you, Russ.

  To Lloyd’s mother, he wrote:

  Mrs. Lloyd, You won’t believe me, I know, but I am sorry for having taken your daughter from you. Jessica was a beautiful, gentle young woman, as you know. I know she loved you very much—she told me so again and again. I can tell you that she did not suspect that the end was coming—Jessica was happy because she believed she was going home. I know you have already had a lot of pain in your life. I am sorry to have caused you more.

  The note to Ernest Comeau, the father of Corporal Marie-France Comeau, reads:

  I am sorry for having taken your daughter, Marie-France, from you … I know you won’t be able to believe me, but it is true. Marie-France has been deeply missed by all that knew her.

  It was the second time Williams had written to him. As mentioned earlier, a few days after Comeau’s death a letter written on the 8 Wing commander’s letterhead had dispatched his condolences.

  To Jane Doe, his first sex assault victim, Williams wrote:

  I apologise for having traumatized you the way I did. No doubt you’re left a bit safer now that I’ve been caught.

  And to Laurie Massicotte, the second woman he tied up, blindfolded and photographed, he also apologized.

  Laurie, I am sorry for having hurt you the way I did. I really hope that the discussion we had has helped you turn your life around a bit. You seem like a bright woman, who could do much better for herself. I do hope you find a way to succeed.

  The next order of business was to hear from some of the many people whose lives had been so badly scarred. In Canada, victim impact statements are often read into the court record before a convicted person is sentenced. In this instance, they could have no effect on the actual sentence, since Williams was automatically facing life imprisonment. But victim impact statements are taken seriously and examined closely if and when there is an application for parole.

  And rarely are they as compelling as these ones, which chiefly addressed the death and suffering of Jessica Lloyd. Corporal Marie-France Comeau’s former longtime boyfriend, Alain Plante, was in court that afternoon, as was Paul Bélanger, who had discovered her body. But there were no victim impact statements made on Comeau’s behalf by relatives and friends, who were said (unofficially) to be too heartbroken to stand in front of her killer and try to tell him what he’d done. Their loss was addressed the next day by Crown attorney Burgess in his closing remarks.

  Lloyd’s mother, Roxanne, dignified and gracious in her sorrow, read out loud the dates of her daughter’s birth and death, and told the court she now takes antidepressants and sleeping pills. And she articulated what most were feeling: there could be no forgiveness. “I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest, and I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. But I can’t help wondering why? Jessica never did anything to anyone … I have heard that people should be forgiven for their sins … but I can honestly say I hate Russell Williams … I am a broken woman … There’s no punishment that can make this better.”

  Andy Lloyd told the court that he knew from the moment his sister went missing that something was very wrong, but that he could never have guessed what lay ahead. In tears, he said the case had drawn so much publicity that the grieving process had never been completed. He spoke of his happy, ebullient younger sister, saying Christmas had always been an especially joyous occasion for the family. Now, “looking ahead, I can’t even imagine what Christmas will be like.” Staring hard at Williams, he said: “The only good thing about all of this is that these crimes were stopped … I have so many questions that will haunt me for the rest of my life and only Russell Williams has the answers … I don’t understand how fate or God or any higher power could allow these things to happen.”

  Applause erupted in the courtroom when he finished.

  An aunt of Lloyd’s named Deborah said her six-year-old grandson now wanted to be a police officer, so he could catch bad guys like the one who killed Jessica. And she made an allusion to the only fact that gave any shred of comfort to the Lloyd clan—that it was Jessica’s rape and murder that had led to Williams’s arrest. “I don’t know how to close my eyes at night without seeing her scared little face and his piercing eyes. Many people have said it took our angel to bring Russell Williams down.”

  As she spoke those words, Detective Inspector Nicholas, the tough cop who had overseen the investigation, wiped his eyes.

  Andy Lloyd had said the same: “No other woman will be traumatized or murdered ever again by Russell Williams and it is because of my sister,” he told the court. “She’s a hero for stopping this from happening to another family.”

  Williams appeared to be listening to everything attentively. When a friend of Lloyd’s scornfully accused him of not having the guts even to look her in the eye, he lifted his miserable gaze and did just that.

  Another of Lloyd’s aunts, named Sharon (Judge Scott asked that their full names not be printed), said that every time she sees a picture of Williams’s face, “it’s like being kicked in the stomach … Jessica was home where she thought she was safe … She was powerless to defend herself against such an experienced predator … He ended her life and he dumped Jessica on the side of the road like a bag of trash … He has ruined so many lives.”

  Sarah, Lloyd’s first cousin, told the court that she is now scared to be alone in her home. “I can’t trust anyone, I worry all the time. I have lost my best friend … I have lost myself.”

  And an Ottawa student named Hayley, whose home was robbed by the murderer, told the court the break-in had left her frightened, even after she moved house. She said she had panic attacks and trouble sleeping, and that her life had changed because “I realized how violated I felt.”

  Then finally, on day four, it was time to hear from the killer himself. A small microphone was placed at the front of the prisoner’s box. Williams rose to his feet, blew his nose and began speaking. He proceeded slowly, tearing up and taking long pauses between sentences, as if struggling to summon up the energy to speak.

  “Your Honour. I stand before you indescribably ashamed. I know the crimes I have committed have traumatized many people. The family and friends of Marie-France Comeau and Jessica Lloyd in particular have suffered and continue to suffer profound, desperate pain and sorrow as a result of what I’ve done. My assaults of [Jane Doe] and Ms. Massicotte have caused them to suffer terribly as well. Numerous victims of the break and enters I have committed have been very seriously distressed as a result of my having so invaded their most intimate privacy. My family, your Honour, has been irreparably damaged. The understandable hatred that was expressed yesterday and that has been palpable throughout the week has me recognize that most will find it impossible to accept, but the fact is, I deeply regret what I have done and the harm I know I have caused to many. I committed despicable crimes, your Honour, and in the process betrayed my family, my friends and colleagues and the Canadian Forces.”

  His chief lawyer, Michael Edelson, then told the court he and his client were in acceptance of everything that was taking place. “There is nothing that can be said to change the legal outcome and consequences here today. It is not the role of the defense to
specifically address the victim impact resulting from the crimes. But we wish to acknowledge their suffering and we take no issue with what Crown counsel [is] proposing.”

  Edelson cited mitigating factors he said Judge Scott should take into consideration in passing sentence, even though the outcome was already certain. He said a long, expensive trial had been avoided because Williams had admitted all his crimes. Edelson also noted how thorough Williams’s confession had been, how he had assisted police in locating Lloyd’s body and how he had willingly told them where to find all the evidence they needed.

  “It is important to note that only 17 of 48 homeowners had reported homes were broken into. Until he confessed, they were unable to identify a suspect,” Edelson said. “He cannot stand before this court and expect forgiveness. Indeed, from a fundamental and moral perspective, one could debate whether he’s even entitled to ask for forgiveness. We can, however, hope that the act of his pleading guilty might in some way at some time aid in the healing process. We wish to acknowledge their suffering and also to publicly declare that we empathize with these victims and what they’ve had to endure … Their pain is incalculable.”

  Edelson was not pleased with the way the case had played out, as he made clear in remarks later published in Canadian Lawyer magazine, particularly with regard to the many leaks that had taken place. “I think there should be a roundtable of leading defence, prosecution, [and] judges to discuss the implications of new media and management of files that are very high profile and the development of rules of practice and rules of professional responsibility to deal with these issues so that lawyers don’t get offside,” he was quoted as saying.