HOW DID IT COME TO THIS?

Police Appeared To Be Unaware Of What James Roszko, An Armed Man With A
Violent Past, Was Capable Of

Never have police come and gone so freely from James Roszko's remote farm
as they did on Saturday.

A dozen forensic officers dressed in white coveralls scoured the area for
hints of evidence. Mounties with German shepherds surveyed the perimeter
looking for footprints, cigarette butts or shell casings.

Once a menacing farmyard locals knew to avoid, the poor and muddy patch of
land that overlooks the countryside is the focus of a probe into the worst
massacre of Mounties since the Riel Rebellion of 1885.

But it is no historic tale of self-preservation.

It is a story of a madman whose disdain for the men and women who wear the
red serge culminated in horrific tragedy Thursday morning.

Four young Mounties -- Peter Schiemann, 25, Anthony Orion Gordon, 28, Leo
Nicolas, 32, Brock Myrol, 29 -- were gunned down on the farm by Roszko, an
angry recluse with a menacing history and a hatred for cops.

The grief of their families and colleagues has been compounded by the many
questions that go unanswered. But what is becoming increasingly clear is
they were unaware of what Roszko was capable of.

It began on an unseasonably warm Wednesday afternoon. A pair of bailiffs
from the Edmonton area arrived at Roszko's farm to repossess a new Ford
F350 truck.

Roszko, a violent loner who made some money renting out his land, had faced
numerous criminal charges but served little time. His property was lined
with "No Trespassing" signs and at times was protected by a spike belt.

Roszko himself was not a physically imposing man. The ruddy-faced former
farmer was about five foot five and 160 pounds. But he could also be
self-righteous and angry -- and he hated the RCMP, said his former lawyer
Guy Fontaine.

"Any time they charged him, he felt he was being persecuted rather than
prosecuted," said Fontaine.

At around 3:20 p.m., one of the bailiffs called the RCMP for assistance
after a run-in with a man on Roszko's property. Bailiff Mark Hnatiw said
they'd just driven up to the gate, but before they could say who they were,
Roszko turned back and walked into his Quonset hut. Hnatiw didn't notice
him come out.

The next thing he knew, two Rottweiler-like dogs were running free and
Roszko was in his vehicle. He drove up to the men and yelled "F--- off"
before speeding off and heading north.

About a minute later RCMP Cpl. James Martin and Const. Peter Schiemann
arrived. Hnatiw said a cruiser unsuccessfully tried to catch up with Roszko.

It was about the same time that Roszko's neighbours -- who were leery of
the strange man -- were horseback riding and saw him tearing dangerously
down a muddy range road in the direction of Mayerthorpe.

"They were riding their horses and they almost got ran over," said Kimberly
Senkoe, 23, who was told about the incident by her friends.

At 3:45 p.m., Martin and Schiemann returned to the property and accompanied
the bailiffs onto the farm. Hnatiw cut the lock and police pepper sprayed
the dogs.

Once inside the Quonset hut, Martin saw two partially dismantled pickup
trucks, a Quad, motorcycle pieces and tools. They were also struck by the
pungent scent of marijuana.

The offending plants were discovered in a wooden shed in the southwest
corner of the hut. It was clearly more than a hobby -- the operation was
later revealed to have a street value of around $300,000.

Hnatiw and the other bailiff left around 6:30 p.m., taping their seizure
notice to the Roszko's mobile home door.

"We were hoping that this fellow was going to have a change of heart,
return and come to his senses and just turn over the truck and we'd be
gone, which is often the case," Hnatiw said.

The investigation had gone beyond a run-of-the-mill case of a repossession.

But the situation apparently wasn't considered dangerous enough to require
dozens of Mounties to swoop down on the scene as they would later when
contact was lost with officers at the farm.

The grow operation was investigated Wednesday night, but the probe into the
stolen property was to take place Thursday morning. Still, one officer at
the scene seemed to sense the danger of the situation.

"When I went, I told the boys to make sure everything's clear, because he's
watching us," said Const. Julie Letal of Roszko, explaining it was known
the man had weapons on the property.

Even more chilling, the warrant application filled out earlier noted Roszko
was well known to the cops and considered violent. It also notes while he
probably fled the scene, he was "believed to be in the area of his property."

But at about 4:30 a.m. on Thursday, just two Mounties were left to secure
the property. The task, according to RCMP officials, was not unusual. It
was the kind of job the young constables were trained to handle.

"They were prepared. They were trained officers," said RCMP spokesman Cpl.
Wayne Oakes. "It would be no different than if I, standing here before you
with 27 years' service, had went to that scene."

The men were equipped with sidearms and soft body armour that would protect
them from a knife attack or the blast of a smaller-calibre weapon -- but
that was nothing like what they'd soon encounter.

Around 9 a.m. on Thursday, the pair of officers were joined by two
colleagues who planned to take inventory of the stolen property. There was
still no sign of Roszko, whose mother lived only a few kilometres away.

Senkoe, a neighbour, said it's possible he could have sneaked back to the
farm from her property.

"All he had to do is walk cross country," she said. "He could have come
from that side."

RCMP spokesman Cpl. Wayne Oakes said they had every reason to believe he
was not at the farm overnight.

But soon after the second team of officers arrived, Roszko ambushed the men
with a high-powered weapon, understood to be a Heckler & Koch .308
semi-automatic assault rifle.

They didn't stand a chance.

Which of the officers fell first or who shot and wounded Roszko is one of
the many questions yet to be answered. Johnston was one of a few RCMP
members to graduate from the academy with a perfect pistol qualification score.

At 9:15 a.m. two officers with the RCMP's auto theft unit arrived at the
scene just in time to hear the crackle of gunfire echo from inside the
Quonset building. Roszko then exited the hut and fired on the auto theft team.

The officers shot back and the man retreated into the building.

In the silence after the gunfire stopped, frantic RCMP officers on the
gravel road outside the farmyard tried again and again to reach their
colleagues inside the Quonset hut on their radios. There was no response.

More than four hours later, when an RCMP tactical team stormed the
building, they found the four constables dead on the floor. Roszko, who had
been wounded, had taken his own life.

News of the deaths rippled through little Mayerthorpe, striking residents
with a horrible grief. Today, they will go to church, hoping to find some
comfort in the close-knit fabric of their community.

But Mayor Albert Schalm said the reality of what happened is only now
sinking in for the 1,570 townsfolk.

Inevitably, he expects the town's name will become synonymous with the
slayings.

"There will be people driving by on the highway and they'll remember the
name and they'll say that's where the four Mounties died. And they'll drive
on," he said.