What happened next is not entirely clear, with only Couillard’s often-contradictory recollections to go by because nobody else involved will comment. In April 2008, Couillard said she discovered a file with Bernier’s name on it in her house. Too afraid, she said, to open it, let alone read it, she instead took it to a lawyer she knew.
“Maxime came to my house,” she told reporters at the time, “and the document in question was left at my house. For now, what I can tell you is that the document made me feel very uncomfortable. I was panicked by the fact that I had it.”
But a year later, she told a different story in her book, saying that Bernier directed her as follows: “Can you put this in the garbage for me? I would prefer that you wait for garbage day to do it, after all they are confidential documents.”
Couillard went on to add: “I can’t help but smile when I think that, in the eyes of some observers, I supposedly constituted a threat to national security and state secrets! I could have wallpapered my house in confidential documents.”
The lawyer then returned the file in question (which happened to be his notes from a NATO briefing) to Bernier. I’m not sure what the lawyer said to him, but Bernier resigned from his cabinet post immediately. Only then did the media finally dig into Couillard’s past, making an instant celebrity of her and pointing out how closely entwined she was not just with the federal government, but the Hells Angels as well.
Bernier was cleared of any wrongdoing and won his re-election bid in Beauce. Harper did not assign him a cabinet post.
Of course, neither Couillard nor Bernier were proven to have done anything against the law. He obviously could have been much more responsible with his documents and could have picked his friends in the real estate business better, and she could have at least worked less hard at drawing attention to herself and stayed away from married men. But what drew the attention of the nation was the fact that one of the most powerful members of the federal government had left classified documents at the house of someone who had been married to one notorious Hells Angels associate and had had an earlier common-law relationship with yet another. Perhaps she did not look at the documents, and perhaps she no longer had ties with the Hells Angels, but it could just as easily gone another way. If, for example, she owed a great deal of money to a member or associate, such documents could easily have been used in an extortion attempt. Keep in mind that Boucher had indicated that intimidating the members of government that opposed him were an active part of his master plan.
The close call that was the Couillard-Bernier Affair is a chilling reminder of the amazing reach and infiltration the Hells Angels have in all parts of Canadian society.
To get an accurate perspective on the outlaw biker scene in Ontario now, consider that virtually every single one of the Hells Angels mentioned in this book is dead, in prison, on the run from the law or handcuffed by legal restrictions. The most notable exceptions are former Para-Dice Rider Donny Petersen and Satan’s Choice founder Bernie Guindon.
Petersen still works at Heavy-Duty Cycles in Toronto where he is described as a “master builder.” The business is now officially owned by a friend who goes by the name Tattoo Tony. Petersen also writes articles and books about Harley-Davidsons and even appears on TV to share his extensive expertise on motorcycle mechanics. But, much to the chagrin of many reporters, doesn’t act as a spokesman for Hells Angels anymore.
Guindon — despite his lofty position in the history of biker gangs in Canada — has escaped prosecution for decades. His son, Harley Davidson Guindon, wasn’t so lucky. He was one of 65 people arrested in November 2005’s Project Superman. He was charged with sexual assault with a weapon, forcible confinement, extortion using a firearm, assault with a weapon, assault causing bodily harm and aggravated assault.
Bernie Guindon has since founded and is still the honorary chairman of the Ontario Confederation of Clubs (OCC), an advocacy group for motorcycle enthusiast organizations. All of the member organizations are — with the possible exception of the famously neutral Red Devils — decidely pro-Hells Angels. The Outlaws, Bandidos, the Mongols, Black Pistons and other anti-Hells Angels groups don’t belong. In January 2010, the OCC announced the addition of the 55 V-Twin Cruisers, Cinco Chagas, Iron Dragons, Iron Horse and Messiahs Creed as new members. Of course, that doesn’t mean they are puppet clubs. In fact, the Cinco Chagas (Spanish for “five wounds,” a reference to Jesus Christ’s suffering) and the Messiahs Creed profess to be nonviolent, Christian-based clubs. But it does indicate that there are lots of clubs out there who wouldn’t mind getting a little closer to Hells Angels.
And Guindon, like Parente and Johnny K-9, is trying to get somebody to write his life story. And he, too, has a title picked out: From Satan to an Angel, Your Side, My Side and the Truth. Knowing what I know about bikers, I’m sure Guindon’s book would reflect “his side” as the unalloyed “truth.”
But bikers like Petersen and Guindon are very rare.
Over the last decade Hells Angels have suffered more arrests and about as many casualties as the other biker gangs in Canada. But while the Outlaws had been essentially reduced to a disparate band of gray-bearded men waiting for their court-ordered restrictions to expire and the amorphous Loners/Rock Machine/Bandidos entity seems to be a club on the Internet only, Hells Angels continue to groom new members and employ gangs of many different stripes all over the country.
It’s all about the branding. It comes down to the logo. As Isnor told me: “Nobody makes movies about the Outlaws.”
But the Outlaws are still there. I’d finished the book. Had sent it off to the editor and thought I was done with it when I got a call from a well-placed biker cop I trust. “You know Parente’s back with the Outlaws; back in charge,” he said. I told him that I had heard that, but not from a reliable source. And that despite all his assurances of the opposite, I had a feeling Parente couldn’t stay away. “Looks like there could be some violence ahead for the HA,” the cop added. I told him I wouldn’t be too surprised.
I asked another biker cop what he thought. “There’s a chance Stadnick could be out next year,” he told me. “If he wants to re-establish himself, he’ll have to do something big ... and if the other side wants to establish themselves, they’re going to have to do something big.”
So while both sides have been weakened by arrests, court-ordered restrictions, internal dissent and age, it would appear that Hells Angels and the Outlaws are once again sizing each other up and preparing to do whatever they have to to come out on top of the organized crime world in Ontario.
And if they can settle a few old scores in the process, I’m sure that would be just part of doing business.
Acknowledgments
Like all books, Showdown was a truly collaborative effort. My name might be on it, but the work of many is in it. Many people deserve to be thanked.
First and foremost is Don Loney, the greatest editor on the face of the earth. That’s not just my opinion, it’s a well-known fact.
I am equally indebted to my outstanding illustrator, Tonia Cowan. Her work is always spot-on. Readers who want to see more of her talent can visit squeakymarker.blogspot.com.
I also have to thank Don’s team at John Wiley & Sons, especially production editor Pauline Ricablanca, marketing whiz Robin Dutta-Roy, publicity specialist Erika Zupko, do-everything-guy Brian Will, designers Michael Chan and Diana Sullada, copy editor Andrew Borkowski and proofreader Eleanor Gasparik.
And, of course, I have to thank the sources, especially Mario Parente. We didn’t talk that much and, in the end, didn’t really accomplish what he wanted, but I have to commend him on his honesty and courage. I also have to thank Luther, who brought us together. My other sources — notably John Harris and Len Isnor — were excellent, providing wit and wisdom along with information.
As always, I have to thank Leta Potter because I’d be in trouble if I forgot; and I have to thank my wife and children for their nearly infinite patience and kindne
ss.
Copyright
Showdown: How the Outlaws, Hells Angels and Cops Fought for Control of the Streets
Copyright © 2010 by Jerry Langton
Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
Originally published by John Wiley & Sons Canada, Ltd. in both print and EPub editions: 2010
First published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd in this EPub edition: 2013
First HarperCollins Publishers Ltd EPub Edition JUNE 2013 ISBN: 9781443427494
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Illustrations: Tonia Cowan
Fallen Angel
The Unlikely Rise of Walter Stadnick in the Canadian Hells Angels
Jerry Langton
Table of Contents
Structure of Hells Angels Outlaw Motorcyle Gang
Acknowledgements
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Copyright
Structure of Hells Angels Outlaw Motorcyle Gang
Acknowledgements
Fallen Angel is a collaborative effort. It is the combined voices of dozens of police officers, bikers, lawyers, drug dealers, journalists, neighbors, politicians and all kinds of other people who had something to say. For reasons that are obvious, a significant proportion of them would rather I didn’t use their names. They are the people—like Diane the nurse, Bob the cop and Vincent the, to use his own phrase, “wealth redistributor”—who are referred to by first name only and not always their real first name. Others are referred to by no name at all if their connection to the story requires no further context. Of course, some of my sources had agendas to push and some weren’t always honest. There were times when two people would claim the exact opposite of each other with equal stridency. In those cases, I had to find the answer somewhere else or not at all.
Of the people who are named, there were some that I consider truly essential. Sergeant John Harris of the Hamilton Police Service rose above all others. His knowledge of crime in his city and the entire country is extraordinary and he delivers it all in such a wittily matter-of-fact way that I sometimes think he should be the one writing the books. Similarly, his fellow sergeant in Hamilton, Steve Pacey, added a remarkable amount of drama as the man who went face-to-face with the bikers so many times and was the one who exposed so much of the inner workings of the Hells Angels when he searched Stadnick’s home. They may have been given the job of ridding the streets of outlaw bikers, but they both clearly understood that their adversaries—especially Stadnick—were people with rights and dignity and real, sometimes very deep, personalities. If there’s a hero to this story from a law-enforcement perspective, it’s Quebec prosecutor Randall Richmond. A man of courage, conviction and staggering intellect, he stood firm and repeatedly did his job brilliantly under bizarre conditions.
I could not have written much of anything without the people on the street who, through drug sales, drug use or simply hanging out in certain parts of certain cities and towns, gave me a perspective with more depth and color than I could have gotten from police and prosecutors. Thanks go to people like Brian and Mike and others who weren’t entirely sure that being a Hells Angel was all that bad an occupation and kept reminding me that it’s not us against them.
Many thanks also go to the great Leta Potter people and the folks at John Wiley & Sons Canada, especially to Don Loney for the pep talks at The Pour House pub. Thanks also to Eric in the Bronx for his research and perspective, to Mark for his constant guidance and mockery, and to Karen, who read the last few thousand words and shook me from my deeply held opinion that I am the worst writer in the world. And, of course, deepest thanks go to Tizz, Dida and the H-Dogg, the collective reason I do anything.
Introduction
It’s hard to tell what people think of your book. When the first edition of Fallen Angel came out last March, it received quite a bit of attention. There were some good reviews in some major newspapers (there was also one bad one, but I was told its writer had his own issues on the subject) and sales were much better than expected. It also received a lot of attention on radio and TV, although this could well have been because its release virtually coincided with teh Shedden Massacre—an incident in which eight members of the Bandidos motorcycle gang were executed then dumped in a farmer’s field in southwestern Ontario. The images, particularly the giant white belly of a dead biker hanging out of the back of a Nissan Murano SUV, were everywhere and people wanted to know more. Because of the renewed interest in bikers, I was on TV and radio regularly. While some pretty impressive people, like CTV’s Mutsumi Takahashi and Global’s Robin Gill, had told me they were impressed by the book, just as many interviewers made it clear (some almost proudly) that they hadn’t read it and didn’t ever intend to. Worse yet, I didn’t run into anyone I knew who didn’t make a joke about how I arranged for the Shedden Massacre to boost sales.
At the height of the media interest in bikers, I was killing time in Hamilton between two interviews and wandered into a bookstore in Jackson Square, the big mall downtown. I was curious to see if they had any copies of the book. When I didn’t find any, I asked the clerk. “Oh, we’re sold out of that,” she told me. “And we don’t put it on the shelves anymore—as soon as we put them out, people would steal them—we have to keep them behind the counter.” I’m not sure if I hit my target audience, but it made me strangely proud.
It was a tough book to write in the first place and a project I took with some anxiety. Looking for help and maybe a little inspiration, I called Daniel Sanger. He’d just written Hell’s Witness, an excellent book that follows the career of Dany Kane, the biker informant who played a significant role in the rise and fall of the Hells Angels in Canada, and it was clear he knew what he was talking about. When I told him that Fallen Angel would be in large part about Walter Stadnick, he was mildly surprised. “Great subject matter,” he said. “But you’ve got a lot of work in front of you.”
Indeed I did. By all accounts, Stadnick is an extremely intelligent and capable man who excels at nothing better than keeping out of trouble. In the same period his notorious colleague Maurice “Mom” Boucher was convicted of 43 times, Stadnick received two traffic tickets. Of course he was arrested a couple of times, but could not be convicted until 2004, more than 20 years after he is said to have joined the Hells Angels. Every single one of the police officers, lawyers, politicians and journalists I spoke with were of the same opinion—that Stadnick was the man who built the Canadian Hells Angels from a bunch of cocaine-crazed louts on bikes in Montreal to the biggest, strongest and most efficient crime organization in the country. But none of them knew how or why. They all knew a
part of the story and were eager to tell me their little bit. Putting it together, as Sanger told me, would be the hard part.
But Fallen Angel is not a biography of Walter Stadnick. If it was, it wouldn’t do him justice. In Fallen Angel, the story of a remarkably complex and secretive man is just an allegory for the bigger picture. He was smart and charismatic, but he came of age in a time and place where his talents weren’t worth much. When he started gainng money and popularity through being a biker, he knew he’d found his niche. He moved up through the minor leagues to the big time. Although he was tiny by biker standards and couldn’t speak any French, he went to the Hells Angels’ clubhouse in Montreal, and before too long, he was their president. Stadnick traveled the country using charm and persuasion to sign up other men and other clubs, until his gang ruled the bikers from coast to coast.
He then formed a new gang, the Nomads, who told the Hells Angels what to do. He did it all by staying a few steps ahead of the police and staying out of trouble. His story mirrors that of the Hells Angels, who started out small and without direction and quickly gained enough momentum to dominate organized crime in this country.
Jerry Langton Three-Book Bundle Page 28