Inhaltsangabe
#1 NATIONAL BESTSELLER
Hank Idsinga, whose grandfather was murdered in the Holocaust, became the country’s leading homicide detective; he shares his insights into tracking down murderers and serial killers over his colourful and decorated thirty-year career.
From the age of ten, Hank Idsinga knew he wanted to become a homicide detective, when he learned that his grandfather had been murdered by the Nazis in the Second World War. He prepared to be a police officer his entire youth and soon found himself in ill-fitting suits training for the job. More than competent—smart, incisive, caring, respectful—Idsinga won over his fellow officers and his superiors. He was as capable of tracking down a getaway man as he was informing a mother that her son, lost to crime, would never return home. Idsinga found himself at the center of some of the most notable crimes in recent Toronto history, from the Jane Creba shooting on Boxing Day to shootouts on Yonge Street to helping track down some of the most vicious serial criminals the city has ever seen.
But it was in homicide that Hank Idsinga would prove such a vital asset to the Toronto Police Services. Idsinga teamed up with his partners, including future chief of police Mark Saunders, on many murder calls—some one-offs, others more nefarious—taking in the scene with his excellent recall, finding the motive and the method faster and more insightfully than most. Idsinga and his team of seasoned detectives participated in taking down some of the worst Toronto has to offer, perhaps none more so than serial killer Bruce McArthur, who had terrorized the gay village for years. Idsinga became the public face for that investigation, and despite the criticism of the police force’s handling of the murders, Idsinga always appeared strong and compassionate in front of the media’s camera flashes.
The High Road breathes life into the true detective genre, with raw, accessible and punchy prose, as honest and compelling as the homicide detective himself. His grandfather would have been proud.
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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor
Hank Idsinga was a member of the Toronto Police Services for thirty years, leading the country’s top homicide unit for five years. Having served as Detective Sergeant and, later, Inspector in charge of Toronto’s Homicide Squad, he has policed just about every kind of case you can imagine, and has stared down some of the hardest criminals the city has ever seen. Idsinga has received numerous awards from the Ontario Homicide Investigator’s Association, and has twice been recognized by Toronto Life magazine as one of Toronto’s 50 Most Influential People. Additionally, he is a regular presenter at policing conferences, including the FBI National Academy Associates Conference and the Ontario Homicide Investigators Conference, among others. Recently retired and now a crime commentary fixture on the Corus radio network (nationally) and Global Television, as well as American crime series in production, Idsinga speaks widely about policing in the wake of a highly decorated career.
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Chapter One: The Circle of Murder ONE THE CIRCLE OF MURDER
My phone rang at 10:44 a.m. on Sunday, December 3, 2017. I was the detective sergeant in charge of homicide response team #1. It was unusual to catch a murder on a Sunday morning—especially a shooting—unless it had happened the night before and the victim had just been discovered or had only just passed away.
Detective Chris Ruhl was the primary investigator next up to bat. After I got the initial information from our operations centre, I called Chris and told him to gather the team and get going. Our twenty-one-year-old victim, Malique Ellis, has been found shot to death in the third-floor hallway of an apartment building near Markham Road and Eglinton Avenue in Scarborough, in the east end of Toronto. It would take me a little while to get there because I lived west of the city.
Some members of our team headed straight to the local police division to collect the notes from the initial responding officers, and conduct witness interviews. Detective Paul Worden was going to be the file manager for this case. He would be responsible for gathering, organizing, and archiving all of the written records. Proper organization is key here, as everything needs to be ready for disclosure when a charge is laid and the case is put before the courts. It was a nice luxury to have. When I started in homicide twelve years earlier, we worked in teams of two and had to juggle all the roles in each complex investigation.
Malique Ellis—I knew the name. I had arrested his older brother for a 2007 murder, also a shooting in the east end of the city. We never convicted him of the murder, but he pleaded guilty to a charge of attempted murder. As a matter of fact, I realized that it was ten years to the day since the earlier murder. Was this payback? That was something to consider, but theories are just theories. Follow the evidence.
At this same time, I was also the major case manager of the Project Prism investigation, which was looking into a potential serial killer named Bruce McArthur. McArthur hadn’t been arrested yet, and Detective Dave Dickinson from our team was the primary investigator as the inquiry moved along. The project team was gearing up to execute a covert entry into McArthur’s apartment several days later.
Shortly after 1 p.m., I arrived at the building where Malique had been killed. As is my habit, I sat outside in my car and made some notes about the building and the surrounding geography, then I went inside with Ruhl and checked in on the third floor with the scene officer, who logged everyone coming in and out—not an easy job in an apartment hallway where tenants and visitors are constantly coming and going. The victim was still there, lying in the hallway. There was nothing that responding paramedics could do for him, so he was left there at the scene instead of being transported to the hospital. From an investigative standpoint, this was almost always preferable. The body is a big piece of evidence itself, and it’s far better to minimize potential cross-contamination through multiple contacts.
The surrounding area was so familiar to me. I’d investigated several murders over the years within a radius of just a few blocks. The building was a couple of hundred feet away from my cousin’s childhood home, which was separated from the scene by busy Eglinton Avenue and a set of railway tracks. As a young boy, I loved it when my cousin took me to the tracks to watch the trains go by. The neighbourhood had changed a lot since then.
Malique had apparently answered a knock at the door and was shot right there on the threshold. Responding officers had found an unrelated firearm in the apartment, so it was cleared and sealed off pending a search warrant. Before we could take witness statements from the other occupants, we had to caution them about possible narcotics and firearms offences.
No one from forensic identification services (FIS) was there yet. That was unusual. They almost always got to a scene before I did. It was a busy time, though—for every new murder my team caught, they were still investigating at least five others, as well as every other major crime in the city. My first question whenever I spoke over the telephone to the responding detective at any murder was always “Who is coming from forensic identification?” Every one of the members of FIS works differently, and I like to know who I’m going to be dealing with.
The forensic team arrived soon after me. Simon Hubbard was the lead, and he was one of the best. I knew the scene would be handled properly. He was going to do a great job, as always. I’d known Simon for almost thirty years, since our early days in uniform in 14 Division. He’d been doing forensic work for a long time now. I didn’t have to micromanage him—I trusted him and he trusted me.
At that point, the little white shoe covers came out. These weren’t easy for me to put on anymore. I had to sit down or lean against a wall to do it. Then someone set out metal platforms for us to stand on while we were examining the scene. Each was about a foot and a half square, raising us off the ground by a few inches. As I knelt down beside Malique, balancing on the platform with my notebook open, I carefully recorded what I saw, including descriptions of his clothing and his tattoos. There were obvious gunshot wounds to his chest, neck, and face. I had to get really close to look at the wounds—inches away—and I needed to put on my reading glasses to take a good look. It’s not just the shoe covers that give away my age.
From the corner of my eye, I could see that the young scene security officer was noticeably recoiling. Nobody wants to get that close to a dead body, but it had to be done. The smell of blood and death became stronger the closer I got. It was a distinct smell that I’d grown used to after so many years.
It took a month and a half, but we solved Malique’s case. It wasn’t easy. The team did a phenomenal job, working over the Christmas holidays to trace the suspect vehicle on video from the parking lot of the apartment building as it fled the scene. Two of our detective constables, Jason Brady and Samir Patel, were full of the energy and drive that is so desperately needed in murder investigations. They spent weeks following that vehicle along the escape route as it travelled west. It was painstaking and frustrating work as they’d find it on one surveillance camera and then move to the next block and try to find it again on another. If they lost the vehicle, they would retrace it to the last sighting and then check streets north and south until they found it again. They followed it all the way to a condominium in Mississauga. Sixty kilometres of tracking in all.
Our suspect, Henok Mebratu, got up on that Sunday morning, drove across Mississauga and into Toronto, knocked on Malique’s door, and executed him. Then he drove back home.
He was arrested on January 19 and was ultimately convicted of first-degree murder. Why did he do it? Only Henok knows that.
Malique had a twin brother, Malcolm. Tragically, Malcolm was shot and killed in 2021, just a few blocks from where Malique was killed. Two brothers shot and killed in our city, a third brother convicted for being on the other end of a gun. A family decimated by gun violence.
I had been dealing with dead bodies for almost thirty years by then: more than I could count during my fifteen years working in local divisions, and then eighty murder victims...
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Taschenbuch. Zustand: Neu. Neuware - INSTANT #1 BESTSELLERHank Idsinga, whose grandfather was murdered in the Holocaust, became the country's leading homicide detective; he shares his insights into tracking down murderers and serial killers over his colourful and decorated thirty-year career.From the age of ten, Hank Idsinga knew he wanted to become a homicide detective, when he learned that his grandfather had been murdered by the Nazis in the Second World War. He prepared to be a police officer his entire youth and soon found himself in ill-fitting suits training for the job. More than competentsmart, incisive, caring, respectfulIdsinga won over his fellow officers and his superiors. He was as capable of tracking down a getaway man as he was informing a mother that her son, lost to crime, would never return home. Idsinga found himself at the center of some of the most notable crimes in recent Toronto history, from the Jane Creba shooting on Boxing Day to shootouts on Yonge Street to helping track down some of the most vicious serial criminals the city has ever seen. But it was in homicide that Hank Idsinga would prove such a vital asset to the Toronto Police Services. Idsinga teamed up with his partners, including future chief of police Mark Saunders, on many murder callssome one-offs, others more nefarioustaking in the scene with his excellent recall, finding the motive and the method faster and more insightfully than most. Idsinga and his team of seasoned detectives participated in taking down some of the worst Toronto has to offer, perhaps none more so than serial killer Bruce McArthur, who had terrorized the gay village for years. Idsinga became the public face for that investigation, and despite the criticism of the police force's handling of the murders, Idsinga always appeared strong and compassionate in front of the media's camera flashes. The High Road breathes life into the true detective genre, with raw, accessible and punchy prose, as honest and compelling as the homicide detective himself. His grandfather would have been proud. Artikel-Nr. 9781668076408
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