SEIZE AND PROTECT

In its ongoing war on drugs and gangs, the Vancouver Police Department
has employed a relatively new provincial law to seize property,
including houses, from criminal hands

The house is vacant, the windows boarded up and the city notices
tacked to the front door indicate it's not safe to occupy.

The two-storey white house at 2780 East 22nd Ave. is not much to look
at from the outside. Its basic design mixes in with the old bungalows
and Vancouver specials along the busy strip, near Kaslo Street.

But for several years, what occurred inside the house made it the most
talked about property among residents and police who patrolled the
area.

Police answered more than 500 calls to the house since 2004 and made
arrests for drug dealing, robbery, assaults and prostitution.

Neighbours talk of drug impaired people wandering the streets,
scantily clad women frequenting the house, high-end vehicles parked
outside and police armed with semi-automatic rifles surrounding the
property.

The mayhem ended abruptly in September.

What closed down the house was a combination of tedious police work,
neighbours' input and officers relying on a relatively new provincial
law to ensure the house is no longer a problem.

The house is among 31 in Vancouver that police referred since last
year to the B.C. Civil Forfeiture Office in Victoria in an attempt to
seize it from the owner.

The total equity of the homes, when the mortgages are subtracted, is
estimated between $12 million and $15 million.

The cases are still before the courts and there is no indication when
or whether the house on East 22nd will be the first forfeited to the
provincial government.

But police are confident this approach, which has already seen the
successful civil forfeiture of cash and cars, will see houses in
Vancouver seized from unscrupulous owners.

Although people tied to the house on East 22nd were prosecuted for
various crimes, the Crown prosecution office didn't believe police had
enough evidence to seize the house via a criminal court. (The VPD is
pursuing the forfeiture of five houses through criminal court.)

"It's only after we've exhausted all the avenues of a criminal
investigation and criminal charges that we do a referral for civil
forfeiture," explains Insp. Brad Desmarais, in charge of the Vancouver
Police Department's drug and gangs sections. "The civil route gives us
an additional tool that we didn't have before."

In the case on East 22nd, police reviewed the 500-plus calls to the
house, the criminal charges related to the property and collected
victim impact statements from residents.

Police referred a package of evidence to the forfeiture office, where
the executive director and his staff decide "on a balance of
probabilities" whether the house was used as an instrument of unlawful
activity. In a criminal court, the test to proceed with charges is
based on "guilt beyond a reasonable doubt" and can result in the
conviction of an owner or a person tied to the house.

Rob Kroeker, executive director of the forfeiture office, wouldn't
comment on the status of the house on East 22nd except to say court
action has begun.

Kroeker provided an example of how the Civil Forfeiture Act works
against a house used to grow marijuana. The majority of Vancouver
houses before the forfeiture office are linked to marijuana operations.

"We have to show there's been a grow-op but we don't have to show any
particular person is responsible for it," he said by telephone from
his office in Victoria. "We just have to show it has occurred and
money was made or the house was used [for a criminal operation]. Once
we've done that, we've proven our case."

The important distinction between a criminal prosecution and a civil
lawsuit is the suit brought on by the civil forfeiture office is
against the property, not the owner.

"This is not criminal law. No one is found guilty, no one is found
criminally responsible, nobody's going to jail, nobody's getting
fined. This is not about punishment, it's about property rights."

Added Kroeker: "It's kind of like if a kid steals a candy out of a candy
jar. Taking that candy away from him, which he was never entitled to have,
is not a punishment."

The owner of the house on East 22nd is Marianne Christine Sullivan,
whom police allege is a drug-addicted prostitute.

According to court documents filed in B.C. Supreme Court, Sullivan
inherited the house from her late mother Jeanette.

The property is assessed at $530,000 and has a $220,000 mortgage on
it.

The documents say the house was used to sell drugs, including crystal
methamphetamine, and operated as a bawdy house.

"At all material times the unlawful activity was undertaken with the
knowledge, participation or acquiescence of the defendant Sullivan,"
said the document filed by the civil forfeiture office.

The Courier attempted to locate Sullivan, described by neighbours as a
slender woman with blonde hair, but was unsuccessful. She has yet to
file any documents in court explaining her side of the story.
Constables Mike Drummond and John Gibbons, who built the case against
Sullivan's house, outlined the criminal past of the property to the
Vancouver Police Board in October.

They confirmed what the court documents said about drug dealing and
prostitution. They added the house was a staging point for robberies
and the scene of serious assaults, including a brutal attack on a
customer of a prostitute.

The officers said Sullivan was given a chance to change her behaviour
but the chaos continued. Over the last year, police conducted
surveillance on the house and encouraged residents at a community
meeting to report suspicious activity.

Victor, who didn't want his surname published for fear he could be
targeted by people associated to Sullivan's house, attended the
meeting in March.

The 39-year-old carpenter is married with two young children and moved
across the street from the house last December.

He didn't know its history until informed by neighbours. It wasn't too
long before ambulances and police were frequent visitors to the house.

"Twice I remember seeing people being taken out of that house on
stretchers--maybe for overdoses, I don't know," says Victor, who found
a crack pipe in his front yard. "As a parent, I'm obviously concerned
for my children's safety but police told us they were on it and I
didn't have any reason to doubt them."

He estimated he phoned police 20 times to report suspicious activity,
including vehicles with out-of-town licence plates parked in front of
the house.

Victor can't imagine the effect the criminal activity had on longtime
residents of the neighbourhood, including his next door neighbour.

The Courier spoke to Victor's neighbour, an older man who didn't want
his name published. He's lived in the neighbourhood for 30 years and
is glad the house is boarded up.

"A few years back, the police had this whole road blocked off to
arrest some guy in that house," says the man, standing at his front
door, pointing to the busy boulevard. "I've seen a lot of stuff and
had people going through my yard. I hope it's over."

Another neighbour, Dave, recalled witnessing drug deals in his
alley.

"They were just as bold as brass--during the day, at night, it didn't
matter to them," he says of the drug activity. "But every time they
kept coming around, I'd call the police."

None of the three neighbours were familiar with the Civil Forfeiture
Act but all believe Sullivan should lose her house.

"If you're going to use your house as a crime centre, then you should
have to forfeit it," saysDave, sitting in his living room with his two
small dogs at his feet. "I can't think how much it cost taxpayers for
all the times police were called here for that one house."

The Courier spoke to other residents, including a woman who lives next
door to Sullivan's house.

They declined to go on record, not wanting to bring attention to
themselves in a newspaper article.

The Civil Forfeiture Act became law in April 2006 and the office
opened in July 2006.

So far, the office has received 325 referrals from police departments
all over the province. One hundred have successfully gone through the
civil court process.

The net proceeds of the 100 cases, which includes money, cars,
jewelries and houses, totaled $7.94 million. The crimes were tied to
marijuana growing operations, drug dealing, money laundering and
investment scams.

Six files from the VPD have concluded, totalling $624,000 in
forfeitures. The cases involved cash and cars, including a 1999
Mercedes Benz that sold for about $20,000.

The property is sold at auction and the forfeiture office hires a
realtor to handle the sale of a house. The seized cash helps fund the
operation of the forfeiture office and is used to pay victims of
crime, for example, who were bilked in an investment scam.

The remainder of the cash is kept in an account and directed at crime
prevention programs and community organizations which do work such as
graffiti removal.

In Vancouver's case, the VPD received two installments of $40,000 to
fund its so-called "con-air" program to return criminals to the
province in which they are wanted on outstanding warrants.

Money has also been granted to nonprofits, aboriginal groups and B.C.
Children's Hospital for a program dedicated to shaken baby syndrome.
The forfeiture office decides who receives the money.

Insp. Desmarais wouldn't have it any other way.

Though many U.S. law enforcement agencies get to keep the proceeds of
crime and use it to fund their budgets, Desmarais believes the
provision is flawed.

"It's bad public policy for the police to run out and seize assets
knowing that they're going to benefit from it," he says from a
boardroom at the VPD's Cambie Street station. "It's like the police
are profiting from the commission of a criminal offence."

The approach in B.C. erases conflict for an officer. As Desmarais put
it, "my motives are pure" when testifying in court in a case involving
the seizure of property.

But so far, no police officers in B.C. have had to testify at a civil
trial connected to the forfeiture of a house or other property.

Desmarais and Kroeker have their theories.

"I suspect these [landlords] are concerned where questions in a trial
might lead," Desmarais says.

Kroeker believes the police's evidence is so strong that owners would
prefer to walk away from their property and forgo a trial.

"There's just a huge amount of evidence in most cases and it's
incredibly clear that the property in question is either proceeds or
an instrument of crime."

But Kroeker noted criminals are catching on to how civil forfeiture
works. He knows of cases where owners of grow houses quickly sold
their property once busted by police.

His theory is owners want to at least get some money for their house
instead of losing it in a civil court action.

"Why else would you sell the house as quickly as you could after the
police had uncovered your grow-op?"

Kroeker says it's important to note that banks will get mortgages
refunded once a forfeited house is sold. That guarantee doesn't always
apply to private lenders, who may have been involved in a criminal
operation.

For now, the neighbourhood along East 22nd has returned to a place
where residents can talk about things other than drug-fuelled mayhem.

Sullivan's house, with its boarded up windows, is simply an eyesore
and no longer the feared property it was for several years.

During an afternoon visit by the Courier, a mother pushing a stroller
walked by the house, as did a couple of elderly people on their way to
catch a bus.

The police acknowledge the diligence of neighbours is what helped
build their case against Sullivan's house. Victor says it was the
right thing to do.

"Don't assume your neighbour is going to call the police. That's the
biggest thing. You think 'Oh, somebody else will call.' You've got to
take some sort of initiative and call. It can make a
difference."

Kroeker says it can take two months to two years to conclude a case.
He wouldn't speculate what that means for Sullivan's house.

In the meantime, Victor and his neighbours are willing to wait it out.
They've got nothing but time, they say. And if the civil action is
successful, there are plans for a neighbourhood party.