But only now, 20 years later, a judge’s order has finally
settled the loose ends left from a controversial police crackdown that all but
dismantled the Outlaws biker club in Ontario.
Police officers lead away two people arrested in a 2002 multi-force raid on an Outlaws clubhouse
After all that time and effort, however, all that’s left are
a few crumbs — far less than what it cost taxpayers and defendants to complete
the litigation.
“We wouldn’t want to rush these things,” defence lawyer
Gordon Cudmore, who represented the late Floyd Deleary in the Outlaws
prosecution, said sarcastically of how long it took to finish the civil case.
Of the 47 bikers charged in the sweeping 2002 investigation,
only Londoner Clifford Tryon, arrested in the raids but whose charges were
later dropped, was still hanging in to get back seized property.
Tryon was a director and officer of a numbered corporation
that owned the London and Windsor Outlaw clubhouses. He soldiered on after his
fellow bikers bailed and fought for the remains of the club, arguing the Crown
couldn’t lay claim to the items and that his Charter rights were breached.
At issue for Superior Court Justice Heather McArthur was
what was left from six fortified clubhouses, including one on London’s Egerton
Street, plus such items as petty cash, biker colours and a Nazi flag.
The courts ordered the clubhouses demolished in 2009, after
they’d sat empty and fell into disrepair.
Once the sites were sold and the taxes and utilities paid
up, all that was left was a mere $238.97 — only enough, as defence lawyer Scott
Cowan said, to cover one fancy dinner.
That was forfeited to the Crown, along with $21.58 in change
and $115 in bills found in the Egerton Street clubhouse and any other spare
change lying around the other properties.
Outlaw vests, patches, jewelry and any clothing depicting
the skull and crossbones logo weren’t returned. But a swastika flag signed by
all the Outlaws, and other “white power” items and items for private or
decorative use, were given back.
Tryon agreed the gun holsters, shotgun shells, other ammo,
bear spray, throwing knives and bullet-proof vests shouldn’t be given back, but
won his argument that a decorative knife and two swords should be.
Cowan said he figures the government shed no tears over how
long the case took. Ontario’s Civil Remedies Act is “designed to make crime not
pay,” he said.
“If it takes a long time to sort these things out, I don’t
think the government is terribly aggrieved because that main message still gets
through.” said Cowan, who represented one of the last two bikers in the
criminal case, Luis Ferreira, where the charges were dropped.
The police had searched 50 sites and seized an avalanche of
property. Most of the defendants gave up fighting for their property years ago,
its value not worth the legal cost of the fight.
Ferreira gave up seven years ago trying to get back his
truck and motorcycle, Cowan said. The truck, left sitting in a yard as the case
dragged on, had basically “disintegrated.”
Cowan noted the standard of proof in the civil cases is
different than in criminal cases, meaning different weight can be applied to
the evidence.
The Crown pointed to the 13 convictions on criminal
organization charges as proof the Outlaws were a criminal organization. Cowan
noted the 13 convictions were all guilty pleas, many made after the accused
were offered time-served deals that would spring them from custody.
The main witness in the case, a police agent who infiltrated
the club, claimed there was criminal activity involving drugs, weapons and
stolen goods. That witness’s evidence was challenged at a preliminary hearing
where the criminal organization charges were ordered dropped.
Ontario’s attorney general revived the charges through
what’s known as a preferred indictment.
As the case trudged on, Cowan and Toronto lawyer Jack
Pinkofsky represented Ferriera and former national Outlaws president Mario
Parente, the last two accused against whom charges were dropped in 2009 after
the police agent said he wouldn’t take part in the trial.
The Outlaws breakup was seen as a major test of what were
then new criminal organization laws.
None of the Outlaws had a trial, but a high-security
courtroom was built in London for the case. The courtroom has since been used
multiple times, including for the Bandidos massacre trial after eight bikers
were executed in rural Elgin County over an internal club power struggle.
SOURCE: London FreePress