Defence lawyer Martin Glazer negotiated for months with justice officials, saying Lamb would only plead guilty to manslaughter. Keep the murder charge and they would see them in court, where convictions were anything but a guarantee. “This is, in fact, the quintessential instance of a true quid pro quo [meaning ‘this for that’],” Leinburd told court.
Glazer said it was obvious Lamb’s statement would have been tossed out at trial. “Police were faced with a windfall because they had no clue he was involved. He provided the answers they needed... today he stands up in court and stands by his confession,” said Glazer. “In effect, it is a life sentence. He will be in his 70s when he does get released—if he lives that long.”
Naturally, news of the plea deal was not received well by the public. Social media lit up with outrage. Families of the victims erupted in anger. Even those involved in the prosecution held their noses.
“We’re not happy at all. But you have to look at the big picture,” mumbled one veteran cop.
No doubt their uneasiness was magnified on this day, when Lamb tried to hijack his own sentencing hearing. It was a pathetic, but not entirely surprising, performance by a man who did the “woe-is-me” act better than anyone. When given his chance to speak, Lamb stood up and claimed he wanted to withdraw his guilty pleas after the word “sociopath” was used to describe him in a report he said he never saw or read. “That is enough to make me want to rescind my pleas,” Lamb said.
Glazer ultimately talked some sense into his client. Lamb then continued with his speech. “I wanted to take responsibility. Apologizing isn’t going to do any good. An apology is nothing. It doesn’t change what happened. I am sorry, and I mean that. I have empathy and I have remorse, for sure. I’ve taken responsibility,” he said. “I left the door open for my addiction to take control. I grew up damaged and lost. Under the influence of drugs and alcohol... I turn into a monster at times.”
It was the type of insight you rarely see from offenders, and typically not expressed as eloquently as Lamb did. And on the surface you may have wished to applaud him for his candour. Problem is, Lamb had pulled out this same spiel countless times. His comments on this day were eerily similar to ones he’d impressed many other judges with, convincing them this poor, lost soul was worthy of yet another chance at redemption and freedom. It was apparent to anyone in the courtroom that Lamb loved being in the position of power.
“You’re a fucking monster, take some responsibility,” screamed one of the victims’ family members in court. He was promptly ushered out by sheriffs, clearly at his wit’s end being forced to watch Lamb relish the spotlight.
FRIDAY NOVEMBER 15, 2013
It was the day after the deal went down. And now Winnipeg police were forced to explain their role in what many saw as a botched investigation and prosecution. At a hastily called news conference, police said desperation to bring closure to grieving families drove them to pay off Lamb—a move that was now under legal scrutiny and could have sunk the case against him. Full details emerged of a $1,500 deal, one day after Lamb’s defence lawyer first raised eyebrows by accusing police of crossing a line and essentially buying a confession from his client, which likely would have been ruled inadmissible at trial.
Supt. Danny Smyth of the criminal investigations unit defended the decision, saying officers had the tough job of trying to break open a high-profile and sensitive investigation. “This is an extraordinary measure we considered,” said Smyth. “The Winnipeg Police Service is sensitive to the fact there are many missing and murdered women in Manitoba and in Canada. These investigations are a priority for us. In this case, the investigators explored all available options in the interest of justice and public safety.”
Police outlined in detail how their contact and payment to Lamb came about. “I would say this is very unusual. In my time, this is the first time I can recall us going to that kind of a measure,” said Smyth. Lamb was initially arrested on a sexual assault unrelated to any homicide. While being processed, “Mr. Lamb indicated he knew where a body was. This statement triggered a homicide investigation,” said Smyth. In fact, court documents spelled out the scenario in greater detail.
“There is a human body, and it is in the city,” Lamb said, according to police affidavits. He declined an offer to consult with a lawyer at this point.
“Mr. Lamb said he was going to do another crime and that he touched the body,” police said. He provided directions to a back lane in the West End, where the body could be found among pallets and wooden crates behind a garage with an antique car inside. “Mr. Lamb indicated he had touched the body three months ago,” police stated. Lamb went on to draw a map and lead police to the body of Lorna Blacksmith. Lamb then suggested he could offer a lot more to police – for a price. “He indicated he had more information to relate about the homicide and other crimes he committed,” said Smyth.
Police consulted the Crown about how to proceed and set up a special “canteen fund” at the Winnipeg Remand Centre for Lamb. An initial $600 was deposited, which Lamb could use to buy personal items such as snacks and magazines. Smyth said it was important to note police were still treating Lamb as a potential informant at that time, not as a suspect.
Investigators then sat down with Lamb, who had plenty to say. He not only confessed to killing Blacksmith, but also slaying Carolyn Sinclair. Lamb was charged with the murders, but told police he would keep talking in exchange for money. “He continued to contact investigators, indicating he would provide more information about other homicides he was involved in,” Smyth said. Police met with Lamb on two further occasions, depositing another $600 and then $300 into his account.” Neither provided investigators with any additional evidence,” said Smyth.
The issue hit the legislature when Progressive Conservative justice critic Reg Helwer said the government needed to review whether it’s appropriate to pay criminals to solve crimes they commit. “The other real issue is, did the justice minister approve this beforehand?” Helwer said. “It’s a very distressing way to go about prosecuting a crime if the only way that we can prove guilt is by paying the criminal himself or herself. Is that the direction that our justice system is supposed to operate?”
A spokeswoman for Justice Minister Andrew Swan confirmed the Crown attorney’s office advised police after they made a request. Smyth said police were put in a difficult position, knowing there would be no case without Lamb’s co-operation. “This brought closure to the families of Carolyn Sinclair and Lorna Blacksmith,” said Smyth. “It was hoped subsequent information would be forthcoming to bring closure to the families of other victims that Mr. Lamb may have been involved in.”
Shawn Lamb wasn’t done talking. One day after resolving his high-profile case in court, Lamb was back on the phone from the Remand Centre with a Free Press reporter. Lamb claimed police were hoping to pin “as many as 80” homicides on him as part of a massive, Canada-wide investigation. “Their eyes lit up, bells went off. They thought they’d have everything in the past 30 years solved. They thought every murder, especially of an aboriginal person, was at my hands,” Lamb said. Lamb said police showed him dozens of photos and lists of names of other young missing or slain women, hoping he would confess. They included local victims and those from other provinces.
He said the $1,500 police paid him was part of their desperate attempts to clear as many cases as possible. “I had admitted to these [two killings] without any inducement. But then after that, police went off the rails,” said Lamb. Lamb said the money was deposited into his jail canteen so he could buy magazines, crossword puzzles, snacks and running shoes. And while he admitted being in a position of power over the police, he denied manipulating them or the victims’ families. “I took responsibility for what I did do. As for the other stuff, I don’t know. I guess police will have to go find the people who did it,” he said.
FRIDAY NOVEMBER 22, 2013
It w
as the result many suspected was coming. And now it was official. The third, and final, homicide case against Shawn Lamb was being dropped. There just wasn’t enough evidence to link him to the death of Tanya Nepinak. The biggest obstacle was the fact her body had still not been found despite an exhaustive search of the landfill where it was believed she had been taken. Nepinak had last been seen Sept. 13, 2011 – the day court documents had alleged Lamb murdered her.
“In terms of the murder charge, based on the evidence to date and a careful reassessment of all of the evidence, the Crown has determined that there is no reasonable likelihood of conviction at this time,” Crown attorney Sheila Leinburd told court. “Consequently, the Crown will be entering a stay of proceedings. Should new evidence be discovered, the case can be reviewed for possible future prosecution.”
Lamb had always denied involvement in Nepinak’s death. “There really was no evidence against him—there never was,” defence lawyer Martin Glazer said outside court. “In my view, he should have never been charged. To this day, there is no evidence that it’s a murder.”
Nepinak’s relatives expressed shock at the Crown’s decision. Her aunt, Sue Caribou, said they were unaware of what had happened until contacted by the Free Press following court. “We had no clue,” Caribou, the sister of Nepinak’s mother, Joyce, said. “No clue this was going on.”
Family members held a rally earlier in the week, angered by the fact Nepinak’s case seemed to be ignored while Blacksmith and Sinclair’s deaths were being wrapped up. “They didn’t pay for my daughter; why didn’t they do that?” Tanya’s mother, Joyce Nepinak, said in reference to the controversial payment police gave to Lamb.
In his final jailhouse interview, Shawn Lamb also took aim at the Lorna Blacksmith and Carolyn Sinclair families, who criticized justice officials for cutting a deal with him. “I’m amazed. All of the family knew this was happening. They were all quite content. Then they all go in front of the cameras and sing a different song,” said Lamb. He didn’t stop there, questioning Sinclair’s family for not submitting a victim impact statement to the court. “If you cared so much about her, you couldn’t even take the time to write a victim impact statement? Come on,” said Lamb.
He also bristled at suggestions he wasn’t sorry for his actions. Lamb said he had no doubt he would have walked free if he’d chosen to reject a plea deal and go to trial. “There was no evidence against me except for me. I am the evidence,” said Lamb. “I could have dragged this out for years. Step 1 is taking responsibility. Sorry is not enough. I can say it until I turn blue. It’s not going to change what happened. Nobody wants to focus on my remorse, responsibility and empathy. [Regardless] of whether I would have walked or not, I took responsibility. If they don’t want to hear that, that’s their choice.”
Lamb also commented about the lifestyle choices of his two victims, saying it was “really not their fault.” “Even if these women are prostitutes, you can’t blame that. That’s how their issues evolved,” said Lamb. “They’re living a dangerous lifestyle. Some people get out of it with a minor scare, some with a major one, or some don’t until they die.”
Lamb also offered a grim prediction for those fearing he will return to society. “I’m going to be out in a decade,” he said, vowing to get parole at his earliest eligibility date. “Oh yeah. I’ve got my release date marked down. I’ll get out. I’m going to work to make myself a better person.”
Shawn Lamb stopped calling me a few weeks after his sentencing hearing. In his final voice mail message, he ranted about how “pathetic” I was and claimed I had repeatedly twisted his words. To be honest, I was relieved the phone stopped ringing. I didn’t believe a single word that came out of his mouth and truly felt like he was wasting my time.
Lamb had become a frequent caller to my Sunday-night radio show. It made for some truly surreal moments. One night, he called to ask my guest, Manitoba provincial court Judge Ray Wyant, a question about the criminal justice system. It wasn’t until he was on-air that we recognized the voice. Obviously an accused serial killer asking a sitting judge questions on live radio isn’t an everyday scenario. But Lamb relished it. On another occasion, Lamb wanted to tell listeners how a Quebec filmmaker making videos of models pretending to be raped and murdered was “cool.” And then there was the time he told me how he thought Col. Russell Williams, convicted of brutally murdering two Ontario women and raping several others, “looked good” in pictures tendered in court of him wearing the panties of his victims.
There was no reason for him to be making these outlandish statements short of the “look-at-me” attitude he clearly possesses. I’m just glad he’s finally been silenced and is where he belongs. And I’m glad at least a couple families have found the justice they were looking for.
CHAPTER 13
THE LOST SOULS
It is remarkable to think in this day and age of social media, where we are seemingly more connected than ever, that a person could die in complete obscurity and anonymity. Yet this sort of thing actually happens more than you might think. I’ve covered two tragic cases like this.
The first, involving a homeless man, took a remarkable turn after my initial story was published. The second, sadly, is still shrouded in mystery. I think about both of these people often. Not only about how they died, but more about how they lived. And what their sad stories say about us as a society.
MONDAY JULY 4, 2005
It must have been a horrible death. A homeless man, no doubt accustomed to being alone, fighting his own losing battle with a strap that somehow became entangled around his neck. His final, futile breaths came in the fading light of day, on a sidewalk in Winnipeg’s popular, often-crowded Exchange District. It was a neighbourhood where he would often be seen pushing around a shopping cart that held his life’s meagre possessions. Tragically, the bungee-cord strap that would strangle him was attached to the cart, a lifeline of sorts to ensure he held tightly what he cherished.
Police believed his death was a horrible accident caused when the man tripped and fell. Although there were no obvious signs of foul play, police were still awaiting autopsy results to confirm exact cause of death. “This is so very sad. He must have been very lonely,” said Greg Stetski, who had seen his share of tragic tales while serving as executive director of the Union Gospel Mission just down the street from where the man died. Not surprisingly, police and medical officials had great difficulty tracking down someone, anyone, who cared enough about the man to know he’d died. No one had come forward to claim his body.
Stetski was saddened to hear about the difficulties in finding someone to notify about the death. “So many people lose family and friends, or are shunned by them, when you go in a certain direction,” he said. Stetski recalled seeing the man regularly pushing a shopping cart in the area, but said he rarely stopped in for nourishment at the homeless shelter. He would often see others who clearly needed help, but refused to ask for it. “A lot of [homeless] people are embarrassed,” he said.
Johanna Abbott, director of the chief medical examiner’s office, said there were nearly 60 cases a year in Winnipeg where it was difficult to track down family members to notify them about a death. She said the number of lost souls who die in virtual anonymity is a sad reflection on society. Most involved deceased who were down and out, forgotten not only by the public but by their friends and relatives as well. Other cases involved people who were the last living member of their family and had no surviving loved ones. “Not very many cases end up where we can’t find anyone at all to come forward,” said Abbott. When all else failed, the Government of Manitoba would take possession of a body and ensure a proper burial occurred.
The Union Gospel Mission had a recent case where an elderly homeless man succumbed to illness. When not a single relative or friend could be found, the shelter sprang into action to ensure his death wouldn’t go unnoticed. Led by Stetski, several people gathered at the
mission for a funeral service to pay their respects to a man they never really knew, but refused to abandon even in death.
“He was not forgotten,” said Stetski. Sadly, far too many others were.
SATURDAY JULY 9, 2005
His name was Fred Linton—and thanks to some kind-hearted Winnipeggers, the 47-year-old homeless man who died a horrible death on a city street would not be forgotten. It was a tragic end to a life filled with heartache and despair—from the shocking death of both parents at a young age to a lifelong battle with alcoholism.
Like many Winnipeggers, Kevin Sweryd was moved after reading about the man’s death in the Winnipeg Free Press before he had been identified. “As a funeral director, I believe no life, whether you’re the mayor of Winnipeg or someone pushing a shopping cart on the street, should go unnoticed,” said Sweryd, who managed Bardal Funeral Home. “This just seems like one of those sad stories of someone who has slipped through the cracks of society.” And that’s why Sweryd had devoted time and energy to organizing a funeral service for a man he’d never met. His idea had taken off beyond his wildest dreams following an incredible sequence of events.
It all started with a phone call two days earlier from Doris Linton, who identified herself as the aunt of Fred Linton. Doris Linton was calling from southern Ontario, where she lived on a farm with her husband. Winnipeg police had tracked her down after finding her name and address on a crumpled piece of paper found among Linton’s belongings.
Mike on Crime Page 22
