chapter twenty-two

REGINA, SASKATCHEWAN

The timing couldn’t have been worse.

Bernard Tremblay had been looking forward to a long overdue visit with his out-of-town parents – until the biggest case of his career wiped away the prospects of spending some quality family time together.

Still, with the plane tickets already paid for, Tremblay and his folks decided they should come to Saskatchewan regardless. Any other plans beyond that remained up in the air and subject to change.

Tremblay felt bad, but knew his parents would understand. His work was important to him – and this was no ordinary case.

Tremblay at least wanted to greet them on arrival, so he arranged to be available by cell phone and pager while he made the quick trip to the Regina Airport.

The stress of the past two days was taking its toll on Tremblay and his co-workers. Seeing his parents, even if just for a few minutes, would be a welcome relief.

Tremblay got the airport just in time. His mother and father were on the ground, having already collected their luggage. He gave them both a big hug.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

It was Tremblay’s cell phone. He pulled out of the embrace and immediately answered the call. It was the news he’d been waiting for.

They’d found the missing boys.

•••••

NEAR KIPLING, SASKATCHEWAN

Pat Beaujot was waiting on the highway, at the end of the overgrown driveway, when the swarm of police cars began to arrive.

It had only been a few minutes earlier that Beaujot had raced to his nearby phone and yelled for his wife, Judy, to call for help.

“I found Whitmore’s van,” he said.

Beaujot didn’t want to place the call himself for fear of giving Whitmore – who he suspected was holed up inside the abandoned farmhouse with the two boys – a chance to escape. He sped back to the scene, parked on the highway and waited.

A million thoughts and questions ran through Beaujot’s mind. What was going on inside the house? Could Whitmore see him? And what was he going to do if the fugitive tried to escape?

He had convinced himself Whitmore probably heard his truck running, or maybe the sound of the garage door opening and closing. Would that only leave him more desperate, more dangerous?

Beaujot had called for some backup in the form of Vernon Varjassy, a good friend and neighbour who lived right next door. The two men then positioned themselves at the end of the driveway, prepared to do whatever it took to ensure Whitmore didn’t get away and the two boys were saved.

•••••

Const. Tim Schwartz and members of the RCMP Emergency Response Team were prepared for anything. They knew they were dealing with a very dangerous man. There’s no telling what he had done to the two boys.

And the possibility that one or both of them were dead had entered their minds on more than one occasion. They had all driven as fast as possible, coming from all directions in rural Saskatchewan, to converge on the farmhouse. More than a dozen in total,

There were no sirens – for fear of alerting Whitmore they had found him. Upon arrival, police began setting up a command post on the highway. There was a definite sense of urgency. But there was also a need to be careful, to avoid inflaming an already volatile situation.

The first step was trying to confirm that Whitmore and the boys were in fact inside the home. The next step was trying to establish contact, find out their conditions and hopefully coax Whitmore to come out.

Three trained, experienced crisis negotiators were on the way and would be given the enormous responsibility, where lives literally hung in the balance and any mistakes could have deadly results.

Beaujot and Varjassy were told to leave the area. The men, thankful for police arrival, were happy to oblige.

Schwartz, among the first to get to the scene, stepped out of his vehicle to get a closer look. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

There, in the distance, was the image of a little blond-haired boy running towards him. Schwartz knew right away what was happening.

Adam Munroe was making a run for freedom – straight into Schwartz’s open arms.

•••••

It was a remarkable scene, the stoic police officer and the frightened little boy locked in a dramatic embrace. Schwartz quickly retreated back to his vehicle, taking Adam with him. The boy looked to be in relatively good health but was clearly terrified.

Several officers soon came to Adam’s side, telling him repeatedly that he was safe, in good hands, that his parents had been so worried and would be very happy to see him. He was given water and re-assured that his nightmare was over. Adam managed a smile.

There were questions, so many questions. At the top of the list was the whereabouts of both Kyle Mason and Peter Whitmore. Adam explained what had happened.

Whitmore had seen the police pull up to the property. He knew he was caught. He ordered both boys to grab whatever they could from inside the main farm property – candles, flashlights, some food – and then directed the to a small barn on the back of the sprawling yard.

The others were still inside the barn. But why had Adam been able to break free but not Kyle? Why didn’t Whitmore stop him?

“He told me to go,” said Adam.

•••••

Police were shocked that Whitmore would simply allow one of his kidnapping victims to leave. Perhaps that was a sign the matter would end quickly, as Whitmore had given up what could have been a major bargaining chip in any kind of stand-off situation.

Still, he had Kyle. And police knew they still had work to do.

They had much more to ask Adam but knew this wasn’t the time or place. But just before they whisked him from the scene to the police station – and a happy reunion with his family – police wanted to know a little more about what they were up against.

Did he have any weapons?

“Yes,” said Adam. “He has a gun.”

It wasn’t the answer police were hoping to hear. What’s more, Adam explained how Whitmore had pointed the weapon at both him and Kyle during their ordeal.

“He said it can shoot through body armour,” said Adam.

•••••

WINNIPEG, MANITOBA

“Jennifer, they found him!”

Janet Stewart, the supper-hour news anchor of CTV Winnipeg, had called her neighbour the moment the development had come across the newswire. And while Jennifer Mason’s son, Kyle, remained inside the farmhouse with Peter Whitmore, there was reason to be optimistic.

Kyle was still very much alive. And police were now working on his release.

“It’s almost over, sweetheart,” said Stewart, a compass­ionate woman who had been hit hard by her personal connection to this story.

Mason was quickly in contact with the Winnipeg police missing persons unit. Det.–Sgt. Randy Antonio came over to the Mason home to debrief the family. He also warned them a deluge of media was likely to follow. They drew their blinds and took their phone off the hook.

Antonio assured Mason police would do everything possible to ensure Kyle remained safe. They were working to establish communication with Whitmore to find out what it would take to bring the case to a swift, safe conclusion.

Mason wanted to believe that would happen, that it wouldn’t be long before she could hold Kyle in her arms the way the Munroes were likely embracing Adam this very moment.

But she couldn’t escape the feelings of utter helplessness and dread as she waited anxiously by the phone, Kyle’s fate still hanging in the balance.

•••••

NEAR KIPLING, SASKATCHEWAN

Tension was high inside the police command post. Officers had called in every available resource – including the canine unit and a police robot – and had officers on the ground and in the air.

An ambulance sat in the distance, ready to respond if needed. Police hoped that wouldn’t be necessary – at least not for Mason.

Police had managed to deliver a walkie-talkie to Whitmore to finally open the lines of communication. But what they heard was grounds for concern.

“Maybe I should just come out shooting,” he said.

Negotiators told Whitmore that wasn’t necessary, that this could all be resolved peacefully by talking it through. They asked for assurances that Kyle was okay.

Whitmore insisted he was, then held the walkie-talkie out and was heard saying “Tell them you’re okay.” A boy’s voice was heard in the background, confirming as much.

Police turned the discussion to Adam Munroe, how the boy was back safe with his family and how Kyle’s family wanted a similar resolution. Whitmore briefly explained why he had elected to let Adam go.

“He was too young,” he said. “He was suffering.”

Police told Whitmore he’d done the right thing. Now he just needed to do it again and let Kyle go. Whitmore said he couldn’t do that. He knew he had messed up and would be going to jail for a long time. Whitmore said he’d run out of chances, that this would finally be the crime that would land him behind bars forever.

Police tried to downplay any criminal consequences, telling Whitmore he didn’t have to worry about that right now and everything would work out. Just let Kyle go.

No, said Whitmore. He knew police would come after him, probably shooting, the moment he was alone. He couldn’t let that happen. Whitmore said he was ready to go back to prison but that he needed some glimmer of hope.

“I don’t want to be a dangerous offender,” he said.

Police told him nothing was concrete, that there was room for discussion. Whitmore seemed interested. He wanted to know more.

Police said they would get back to him.

•••••

INSIDE THE FARMHOUSE

“You’re my only friend, the only one who understands me.”

Peter Whitmore was a master at the art of mind control. And he had managed to get inside the head of the 14-year-old pawn that remained in his possession.

Kyle Mason desperately wanted to be back with his family. The past few days had been a nightmare filled with fear and worry and confusion.

But he also felt the need to stay. Whitmore had told him so many stories, threatening to go back to Winnipeg and kill his mother and sisters.

And then there was the claim that Kyle’s family had paid Whitmore to take him from them.

“Your mom and step-dad gave me $6,000 to take you. They didn’t want you. They said you were nothing but trouble,” said Whitmore.

It sounded ridiculous. But Kyle knew he had given his parents fits in the past and was hardly the perfect son. He was so confused.

“If you leave me, I’ll kill myself,” Whitmore told him now as they hid out in the barn.

The sun was beginning to fade. Night would soon be taking over. Kyle had seen the gun, watched Whitmore point it at Adam and stared down the barrel himself. And he had listened to Whitmore offer to give it to him, practically begging Kyle to shoot him.

“I want you to kill me,” he said.

Kyle couldn’t do it. He refused to take the weapon.

Whitmore appeared to be growing more agitated by the hour, clearly affected by the knowledge that his time was nearly up. In a momentary fit of rage, he grabbed whatever he could find – a pack of tobacco and a can of WD-40 – and mixed the items in a glass of water. He then poured the concoction down his throat in what Kyle thought was a suicide attempt.

Only nothing happened. Whitmore remained alert and Kyle was still his prisoner.

Just when the situation started to look hopeless, police were back on the walkie-talkie with an interesting proposal.

They wanted to make a deal.

•••••

“We believe Kyle is in good health. But all of our information on him has come from Mr. Whitmore.”

RCMP Sgt. Tammy Patterson had come out to address the media, which was gathered just behind the police roadblock set up on the highway.

She was not authorized to provide any specific details but confirmed that negotiations were ongoing and police remained hopeful the situation would end soon.

But she said police weren’t going to rush into anything and would take as much time as needed.

•••••

The offer seemed too good to be true. But Peter Whitmore had been assured by police they were serious.

A senior Saskatchewan Crown attorney, Jeff Kalmakoff, had spoken with police and agreed on a document that promised justice officials would consider NOT seeking a dangerous offender designation or life sentence against Whitmore in exchange for his guilty plea.

Police had the paper in their hand and told Whitmore they weren’t trying to trick him. As well, Kalmakoff said they would recommend he be placed in a private, segregated cell to ensure other inmates couldn’t get at him.

Whitmore was aware his latest crimes were generating plenty of news coverage and would make him an easy mark behind bars.

The letter read as follows:

“To Whom It May Concern. Re: Peter Whitmore. I will recommend to Saskatchewan Justice that the Crown prosecutor will not seek a dangerous offender designation for Mr. Whitmore. Nor a life sentence. Mr. Whitmore has agreed to plead guilty to any offences he has committed in the last 24-48 hours. Mr. Whitmore has requested to be housed in a single cell under complete segregation and I do not oppose that request. I have discussed this with Mr. Jeff Kalmakoff, Crown Prosecutor, Saskatchewan Justice, Regina.”

Whitmore was pleased with the proposal and felt a sense of pride that police had listened to him and taken his demands seriously. He knew his back was against a wall and there was no way to escape. But at least he’d just guaranteed himself a good shot at getting out one day.

It was just after 11 p.m. the deal was finally consummated. Kyle came out first, slowly and cautiously, and was immediately whisked away by heavily-armed officers who had surrounded the barn.

Whitmore followed, his hands in the air. He was ordered at gunpoint to the ground, laid down and immediately swarmed.

It was over.