Bicycle ‘chop shop' discovered at Kitchener home: police
Several bicycles and parts are seen in this undated photo. (Courtesy: Waterloo Regional Police Service)
The Waterloo Regional Police Service has recovered more than $25,000 in bicycles and parts after they said they found a 'chop shop' in Kitchener.
On Thursday, officers searched a home as part of an ongoing investigation that began after a stolen bike was found inside a residence near King Street West and Green Street.
Officers said in addition to the original bike, numerous other bicycles and parts were found at a nearby home.
The investigation in ongoing.
In the meantime, officers will be trying to return the bicycles they found to their proper owners.
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CTV News
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CTV News
an hour ago
- CTV News
Saskatchewan historic hotel with history of murder and mystery now being restored
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(Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, later experiencing a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929 and experienced a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Gareth Dillistone / CTV News) Shaunavon, Sask. Shaunavon, Sask. is a town in southwest Saskatchewan. (Gareth Dillistone / CTV News) Shaunavon, Sask. Shaunavon, Sask. is a town in southwest Saskatchewan. (Gareth Dillistone / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929 and experienced a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Gareth Dillistone / CTV News) The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929 and experienced a fire, dynamite explosion, and three murders throughout the years. (Gareth Dillistone / CTV News) Karemaker said he has always had a passion for restoring furniture. He even restored two homes in the town. 'I was kind of hooked once I did two houses in front here and then I wanted to set my sights bigger,' he said. He reached out to people in the town to see if they knew of old, abandoned or worn-out heritage homes he could tackle as his next project. 'Through a post on Facebook, a friend of mine contacted me and she said, 'Hey, what about a hotel?'' Karemaker got in touched with the hotel's previous owner, Brad Bakken, and took over ownership a little over two years ago. 'I paid $20,000 for this building, which is probably around 15,000 square feet, so it's a big one,' Karemaker said. Kent Karemaker Kent Karemaker, originally from Vancouver, B.C., is working to preserve a piece of the past at Shaunavon's Grand Hotel. (Gareth Dillistone / CTV News) 'Last hurrah of the 20's' The Grand Hotel was built and opened to the public on November 28, 1929, with Fred Mah and Mah Hop as the owners. The opening would have been during the end of the Roaring 20's and the beginning of the Great Depression in Canada. The total cost to build the hotel was $35,000. The Grand Hotel The Grand Hotel in Shaunavon, Sask. first opened to the public in 1929, during the end of the Roaring Twenties and the beginning of the Great Depression in Canada. (Photo source: Grand Coteau Heritage & Cultural Centre) 'It opened, I believe one month before the stock market crash in 1929, which is probably about the worst time to open a hotel because that's basically when Saskatchewan started shrinking,' Karemaker explained. When it opened, hot and cold water was available in all 38 rooms, with steam heat and all new furnishings. The Grand Hotel When the Grand Hotel first opened in 1929, all 38 rooms had hot and cold water, as well as steam heat and all new furnishings. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) Rooms would have been available for guests to rent for $1.25 a day. Bathrooms were shared among guests with only one bathtub on each floor and two toilets, one for ladies and one for men. Kathleen East, Shaunavon's local historian, explained that many bizarre events took place in the hotel over the years, including a fire in 1932, dynamite explosion in 1933, and three murders in the hotel in 1940. 'It was run as a hotel by the Chinese family until 1940 when two of them were actually murdered in the front of the hotel,' she said. Just two months prior, RCMP Sgt. Arthur Julian Barker was shot and killed in the same spot. 'That particular person got off on insanity, but they were connected within two months of each other,' East said. Barker's photo hangs in the front of the hotel where the murder happened. RCMP Sgt. Arthur Julian Barker RCMP Sgt. Arthur Julian Barker was shot and killed in front of the Grand Hotel in 1940. Two more people were murdered just two months later. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) Apartment block Eventually, the hotel was converted into an apartment block by George A. Baird of Moose Jaw. The building would later be known as the Beverly Court in 1943. A furnished single room would run for $35 a month with the resident paying the electricity. East said there would be many young women who would come to town for work and would stay at the apartment building. 'There were usually a lot of single people living there. Then the other one that was quite common was elderly people that needed a place to live,' East explained. One of the last two residents who rented a suite before the building closed down was Jamie Mercer. Mercer had come to Shaunavon for work and was 17-years-old at the time. Jamie Mercer Jamie Mercer was one of the last two residents who rented a suite before the building closed down. She was 17-years-old when she came to Shaunavon for work. (Gareth Dillistone / CTV News) 'Looking back at it, I think how did I ever stay here by myself? Seventeen-year-olds are kind of fearless, I guess,' Mercer said. 'You come in, you close the door, this is your spot. It didn't bother me that it was empty.' Mercer rented a room for about four months and despite the building's history, she managed to make the small space her own. 'I believe I had a small table right there. Bed. Pretty much that was it. A bed. There was a closet,' she said, standing in her old room. The boiler system in the basement of the building had stopped working at the time and was not going to be replaced, forcing Mercer and the other tenant to vacate. The Beverly Court was listed for sale in January of 1997, with the Bakkens taking over ownership then. 'Revitalize every element' Karemaker has already begun work on the restoration process of the hotel. He's poured $60,000 into just replacing the roof alone. 'The roof has been replaced. The bulk of the electrical, including all the switches and boxes and everything. All of the main lines coming through have been done. I have replaced over 40 broken panes of glass. Resealed and repainted all of the lower-level exterior windows.' When the apartment building shut down, the building sat empty for years, giving Karemaker much of the original finishings and most of the existing furniture to work with. 'I have some of the original bed frames and that sort of thing. I have restored a lot of furniture. The basement houses a lot of the original sort of back-end things. So, all the original laundry equipment is down there. The 1920's boiler system is still intact,' he said. The Grand Hotel The original boiler system, as well as the original laundry equipment, are still in tact and housed in the hotel's basement. (Angela Stewart / CTV News) 'I have everything original to work with. The plan is to revitalize every element of the building and put it back into use.' Karemaker has been documenting his work on the hotel through social media, under the Facebook page, Grand Hotel Shaunavon. With a clear vision for the restoration, Karemaker plans to bring back the hotel's original 1929 charm for those wishing to stay the night. 'I want this place again to be a bit of a retreat,' he explained. 'Bathrooms will be shared with a couple exceptions; suites have private baths and then there will be modern bathrooms. That's the only modern concession I'll make, other than Wi-Fi.' He said there will be no TVs in any of the rooms. 'I also want it to feel authentically 1920's and I think nothing would kill that vibe more than walking into your room and seeing a flat screen. I don't want there to be any sign of electronics that didn't exist in the 1920's,' he said. Those who work at the hotel will also play the part, including Karemaker himself. 'Black and white maid outfits. I'll be in a three-piece suit with a pocket watch.' With the original boiler system out of commission, there is no running heat in the building, so work on the restoration is limited to the warmer months. Karemaker expects the renovations to be wrapped up in about four years time, with an opening date to fall on the hotel's 100th anniversary. Those who are interested in checking out Karemaker's progress so far can attend an open house on July 20 from 1 p.m. to 3 p.m.
CBC
3 hours ago
- CBC
Confessions of a gun smuggler: How I brought weapons into Canada
Social Sharing Everyone knows guns used by Canadian criminals are often smuggled from the U.S. Not everyone knows how — not like Naomi Haynes does. That's because she did the smuggling. A native Montrealer who's been living in the U.S. for decades, she helped traffic dozens of weapons into Canada, some linked directly to drug gangs. "I wasn't thinking about the havoc I was causing in my birth land," she told CBC News last week. "I've got my kids, I've got bills. The only thing I [was] thinking about is monetary gains. I wasn't thinking about the people who are going to be affected." CBC News established contact with Haynes while she was in prison — at first communicating by email, then with a glitchy prison video app and then in a lengthy interview following her release last year. Her story helps shed light on the thousands of guns a year in Canada that police trace to the U.S. She described, in detail, tricks of the smuggling trade. And how she managed to move drugs, cash and, eventually, guns, for many years, depending on the product — either into the U.S., between U.S. states or into Canada. Rule No. 1: Only one person per car. If the vehicle gets stopped at the border, you don't want two partners tripping over each other's story during secondary questioning. "There's only one story this way," said Haynes, 45. "If you have two drivers, there's conflicting stories and that's when you have problems. … 'Oh, you're coming from Virginia, but your friend says [she's] coming from Baltimore.'" "So just one driver, so they can stick with their one lie." I wasn't thinking about the people who are going to be affected. - Naomi Haynes Rule No. 2: Find a good hiding spot. She would stash items in hidden compartments under seats; in door panels; in the trunk. She'd also move drugs in a gas tank — in triple-sealed, vacuumed bags. Rule No. 3: Get drivers who won't arouse suspicion. Haynes didn't transport guns herself; she got pulled over too often. She'd ride in a separate vehicle. "I started paying white girls and guys to move stuff for me," she said. Especially white women. They never got pulled over, she said. Until one did. Haynes was arrested in 2019, charged with smuggling, and with conspiracy to make false statements; she pleaded guilty, was sentenced, and served just under five years in prison. Hers is an unusual story. She's a vegan, millennial, Jamaican Canadian political science grad in South Florida who supports Donald Trump, became a grandma and wound up in an international conspiracy. Then again, her life story was atypical from the start. Escaping Montreal "At the end of the day, you become what you know," Haynes said. She grew up around drug dealers. Her late father dealt crack, then smoked it. In a book she's writing about her life story, Haynes describes a period when he became meaner, zoned out and indifferent, his eyes bloodshot. Her book describes one sister jailed for selling ecstasy. Another sibling, her brother, led a local street gang, according to the Montreal Gazette. She grew up in the area just south of the old Montreal Forum; her grandmother worked in the hallowed hockey shrine. From childhood, Haynes earned money in unconventional ways. Her half-complete memoir, entitled The Runner: Tripped by the Feds, begins with the words: "For as long as I can remember I have had a hustle." She ran store errands for adults and got to keep the change; collected beer bottles from their parties and returned them for cash; and, later, resold contraband cigarettes. "I made my first $1,000 in the seventh grade," she writes. She was desperate to escape the scene, to flee the bad influences. Haynes harboured a childhood dream of living in the States, and in 1997, she made it happen. She enrolled in college. She got a bachelor's degree from Florida Atlantic University, according to court documents, and also studied criminal science. She started smuggling to pay for school. And she made poor choices, she says, about whom she surrounded herself with. The man who became her husband made a $5,000 down payment on a Jeep Cherokee for her; she used that vehicle and received thousands of dollars more to move hashish, hash oil and marijuana into Canada. Over the years, she shipped contraband countless times: ecstasy, cocaine, marijuana, hash and cash, occasionally driving on her own, but usually hiring someone. She'd move products from buyer to seller, often across international lines, but also domestically, say, from Florida to Chicago. It was only many years later that she started selling guns. Around 2016, Haynes was desperately low on cash — she was divorced, with a baby, not working and with an older boy playing intercity baseball. "Everybody that I always did business with always said, 'No guns, no guns, no guns,' because there's a trail," she told CBC News. But it was great cash, about $4,000 Cdn per gun. On a nine-millimetre handgun that costs a couple of hundred bucks in South Florida, it's an astronomical profit. She'd ship about 20 at a time, and there were multiple shipments. She admits to two of them, which she figures generated about $160,000. Subtracting the cost of the purchase, the driver and her partner's share, she estimates she kept about $30,000, which helped her live comfortably for a few months. And then it cost her everything. WATCH | Major Toronto gang busts connected to Hayes's network: Law enforcement closes in Police started closing in on Haynes from different angles — arresting associates, seizing phones, recording conversations and catching her in lies. It started after she purchased 20 weapons from different Florida gun stores in February 2018. On March 1, a day after her last purchase, she crossed into Canada through New York. She was stopped re-entering the U.S. two weeks later at Champlain, N.Y., carrying $4,300 in cash, and multiple cell phones. Border officers seized her phones and downloaded the contents. According to court filings, they found fraudulent or counterfeit IDs for several associates and shared that with the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives. On the morning of April 27, two ATF agents arrived at her home in Boca Raton, Fla. She lied to them, insisting she'd been buying and selling guns to friends with legal permits. She insisted she had a storage unit. She took them to a CubeSmart facility and professed to be shocked when she found her unit empty. "You remember Martha Stewart?" ATF agent Tim Trenschel asked her, according to court documents. "The lady on TV that does fancy crafts. Do you remember that she spent some time in prison? Do you remember why?" Haynes replied: "Because she lied." The agent said: "Exactly." Haynes added: "About insider trading." The agent said: "You're way ahead of most people I talk to." Majority of firearms coming into Canada are from the U.S., data shows 4 months ago Duration 3:22 Donald Trump is targeting Canada with punishing tariffs over concerns about border security. But as CBC's Talia Ricci reports, data from GTA police shows Canada has to worry about what's coming in from the U.S, too. Haynes insisted upon her truthfulness. "Listen, I get it, and I respect the law… I am being a thousand per cent honest." She was not, in fact, being 1,000 per cent honest. Far from it. The agent's observation about the risks of lying to a federal officer proved prescient. A couple of weeks later, guns she'd bought started turning up in police investigations in the Toronto area, identified despite attempts to deface the serial number. 'I knew I was cooked' One loaded Taurus 9mm was found hidden in the panel of a car, alongside approximately $300,000 worth of cocaine. Days later, a Ruger .380 was found in another drug bust. The suspect tossed it aside while attempting to flee police. In September of that year, a friend she'd hired was stopped while crossing into Canada from New York state, carrying 20 hidden guns. Haynes was recorded following right behind her — crossing the border 62 minutes later. A number of the seized guns traced back to her circle. By this point, police had gained an informant. They were secretly recording conversations within her circle, even one involving Haynes's daughter. On Feb. 27, 2019, her daughter's boyfriend, Mackenzie Delmas, was caught. The informant delivered guns to him and Delmas was arrested immediately. Agents searched his home — and Haynes's. That's when Haynes knew she was done for. She was visiting her parents' home in the Montreal area. Her daughter called from Florida in the middle of the night with the news, and Haynes collapsed on the family couch. "I've never experienced a panic attack before in my life, but at that point, I started shaking. I couldn't talk, I couldn't breathe," Haynes said. "I was trying to gasp for air." Her mother tried calming her down, rubbing her back. She recalled her mother asking: "What's going on?" Haynes confessed what she'd been up to. The whole story. "My mother was so disappointed." At that point, Haynes made a decision: To give herself up. "I knew I was cooked," she said. "[I thought], I'm not gonna live on the run. I've got to face it. My time has come." Court documents confirm what happened next: She called the ATF in the wee hours of Feb. 28, and promised to return to the U.S. and speak with investigators. In subsequent recorded interviews on March 13 and April 3, she confessed everything: the fake identities, the illegal gun purchases, the shipments to Canada, the sales to known Canadian gangsters, her own trips north to collect cash and, crucially, her lies to police. She was arrested, and spent four years, nine months in prison, serving time in a low-security prison in Alabama. It was predictably miserable. She recalled guards treating inmates cruelly and arbitrarily — being decent to some of the meanest inmates, and mean to decent ones, people who got mixed up, in some cases accidentally, in bad situations. The worst was during COVID-19. After testing positive, she was sent to solitary confinement. "I was in the shoe for 13 days," she said. "I felt like a dog in a kennel. … The room was filthy. It was disgusting. The sinks — the water was brown. The toilet, it was disgusting." Her main diet in prison consisted of peanut butter. She gave up meat and dairy years ago, grossed out by it. Given the choice between baloney and peanut butter, she'd take the latter. She recalls paying $7 for a cauliflower once and air-frying it with a blow-dryer. Is there a sense of guilt? But the absolute worst thing about prison? Her parents dying, and being unable to see them or attend their funeral. Her beloved mom slowly died of cancer while Haynes was in jail. By the time her father died, she was out, but she had to attend the funeral on Zoom. Haynes can't leave and re-enter the U.S. because she's fighting deportation. A Canadian citizen, she's a green-card holder in the U.S., and of her three kids, they're either living there or hoping to live there with her. She now works an office job at a landscaping company. "My mom was sick with cancer and I failed," Haynes said. "My choices and the things I was doing caused me to not be there for the person that was always there for me." What about potential gun victims: does her sense of guilt extend to them? As a vegan who avoids hurting animals, does she ever wonder whether any humans were harmed by those chunks of steel she trafficked? Initially, no, she said. As she got into the business, the only thing on her mind was money — paying the bills. Then she had four years, nine months in prison to think. And she started thinking about other people's pain, about other families and whether her guns killed any young kids in a drive-by. She now prays that those guns are confiscated.
