THE CRIMINAL MIND

Operation Bullwinkle More Than Normal Project For Drug Unit

When it comes to methods of drug concealment, RCMP Staff Sergeant Greg
Smith says people will go to any length to hide their stash.

Human drug mules such as swallowers and suitcasers sometimes rely on
condoms to stash dope in their body cavities, the veteran cop says, and
lubricated condoms are the ones of choice.

Smith has also seen drugs hidden in false-sided suitcases, spare tires,
door panels of vehicles, ceramic dishes, wooden statutes and body casts.

"I saw a guy going through the airport one time in Gander with skis and
everything going on a holiday. The next day he comes back with a cast on
his arm. It seemed out of place. We checked him and he had seven pounds of
hash under the cast."

Smith is in charge of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police's drug section in
Newfoundland and Labrador. He has spent the last six months on the ground
level working Operation Bullwinkle, a national drug investigation that saw
32 people arrested last week.

The RCMP/RNC joint force undercover operation employed up to 130 officers
from 20 forces in Canada and the U.S. The sting netted more than $300,000
in cash, the seizure of 11 stolen high-end SUVs, more than 400 pounds of
marijuana with a street value of about $3.3 million, plus other sought
after drugs headed for the streets.

`trying to get away' In addition to suitcasers and swallowers who smuggle
drugs into prisons, police also encounter people determined to evade
arrest. There was one last Thursday during Operation Bullwinkle.

"Yesterday in this takedown, when I was going through the front door, buddy
was going out through the back. We had sent two officers around the to
cover the back door and he ran into the two officers with 20 pounds of pot
in his hands. And that happens quite often. They're just trying to get away
with it and they're not really confrontational."

But, then, there are those who are very much confrontational. As cops close
in on dismantling thriving organized crime rings, it's not unusual for
people to panic as they see their future behind bars.

When asked if he's ever had his life threatened, Smith nods but is quick to
add he's an "easy going person."

And every officer who joins a police force does so well aware of the risks
that come with the badge, he says.

"In the RCMP, you've got 9,000 other members across the country that will
back you. If you take on one, you've got to take on them all. When somebody
does threaten me, that's the approach I take. You can threaten me all you
want. You can do what you want to me. I can't stop you from shooting me. If
you want to shoot me, shoot me. I'll try to prevent it if I can. But if you
do, you're going to go to jail for the rest of your life because they're
not going to stop until they find you."

Having such a mindset is the only way to operate in the business, Smith says.

If you fear what will happen, you'll become too stressed to do the job.

"If a criminal organization wants to do something to you, they'll find
somebody crazy enough to do it and pay them enough to do it."

The weekend is just beginning for the majority of RCMP officers working out
of headquarters in the White Hills. However, late Friday afternoon, Smith's
phone is still busy.

Before the tape recorder is turned on, he sets the ground rules for the
interview. Some questions he may not to answer. His wife and children are
off limits.

"I'm a tough old bird, it doesn't matter what's out there about me. But my
family is a different matter."

A native of Bridgetown, Nova Scotia, Smith joined the RCMP in 1971. With
two dollars in his pocket, he'd yet to reach his 22nd birthday.

During his career he has risen through the ranks with postings in
Glovertown, Bonavista, Holyrood, Gander, St. John's and Happy Valley-Goose Bay.

His positions have included heading the force's drug section in Gander as
well as the RCMP criminal intelligence program based out of St. John's. He
has been the officer in charge of the drug section at White Hills since 2000.

The 13-member section -- which includes two Constabulary officers for joint
force operations -- is responsible for inter-provincial, national and
international drug investigations that affect Newfoundland and Labrador.

Early in the interview, Smith's phone rings. Pin like creases form in his
brow as he listens to the person on the other end.

Though it has been an exhaustive week, and it's now heading for 5 p.m., the
cop is both patient and understanding with the caller.

Such calls are all part of working a drug squad, he says, after hanging up
the phone having jotted down a telephone number.

While police have dismantled this major organized crime ring, Smith says
it's just one of many operating in this province.

Operation Bullwinkle has led to the identification of several other groups,
all in competition with each other.

As each one is identified, the drug section puts together an intelligence
package outlining which group it plans to target next. It's all about
planning and forecasting what's likely to happen as far as a year in advance.

"This group that we just did, we picked them out over a year ago. We put in
our budget what it was going to cost to target them. We told them (RCMP
heads) who we were going to catch and how we were going to catch them and
how long it would take," Smith says.

The costing and time period on Operation Bullwinkle was right on the money,
he says.

"And I'd say we underestimated ourselves with respect to the numbers. We
thought we'd get about five or six good targets out of it and we ended up
getting 32."

When you're running a drug unit, Smith notes, you're only as good as your
team. The officer considers his squad a very good one.

`outsmart them' Working drug files is a unique form of police work. There
are no footprints or fingerprints to lead you to the offender. Rather drug
investigators respond to what they believe is going to happen based on
intelligence gathering.

"You have to get ahead of them and you got to outsmart them. You've got to
go out and catch them doing the trafficking, actually carrying the drugs on
their person."

Smith says that, in many cases such as the latest sting, criminal
organizations are set up whereby some of the people eventually charged
never touch the drugs.

"That's where your wire taps and your undercover comes in."

With a project running from the East Coast to the West, as in the case of
Operation Bullwinkle, Smith refers to the bust as much more than a normal
drug project. Wire taps alone intercepted more than 150,000 calls.

"In a normal drug project, you take 12 or 13 of your guys plus your
specialized people, but in this one we had 25 (officers) on the project
full-time for six months, plus other groups that backed them."

In addition to wire taps, surveillance, statements from suspects as well as
other means of information gathering, such target operations also involve
the use of informers.

If the information provided by informants is entered into a search warrant,
the person is well paid, Smith says. However, he isn't willing to say just
how much a person can make as a fink.

"Well, Crime Stoppers pays up to $2,000 for a tip, OK. And that's an
anonymous tip. So, you can appreciate what we would pay for people who want
to put their necks on the line. So they make a few dollars."

Smith answers phone call and listens intently, while interjecting a "What
time? Where? How much?

"Can't do it tonight," he continues, thanking the person on the other end
before hanging up.

"That was a reliable informant. We could have gotten several pounds of
marijuana and a truck tonight, but we just don't have the resources."

Smith is often asked what happens to the drugs police confiscate. It is
burned in an incinerator, with extra large amounts shipped to blast furnace
in Nova Scotia and smaller quantities done locally.

By the time it reaches the incinerator, Smith says, the dope is as dry as
hay. Poof and it's gone, he says. There's so much heat in the furnace there
is no smoke or odor.

`it was gratifying'

Smith is on the downside of his colourful career. He's looking forward to
the day he'll hand in his badge in less than two years.

Once he does, he'll have many memorable operations to look back on.

Over the last three decades, he has been the main man behind numerous drug
busts including the Ireland's Eye takedown that stopped $294 million worth
of hashish from hitting the streets in the late 1980s.

Then there was Operation Batman out of Nova Scotia with Smith's involvement
in Newfoundland that saw $450 million in hashish confiscated by police.

Another rewarding file was the Marilyn Ann Newman murder case of the West
Coast of the province.

A much younger longhaired, bushy bearded Smith who "looked like a biker"
recorded admissions from Robert Durnford and Malcolm Cuff in the 1983
murder of the 20-year-old.

The woman's body was found in a wooded area about 20 kilometers east of
Corner Brook. She had been stabbed repeatedly with a screwdriver and she
had been struck in the head with a hammer.

"It was gratifying to be able to put the truth in the court," he says.

Over next year-and-a-half, Smith will continue to target groups living off
the proceeds of crime. It's work he finds both rewarding and necessary.

While there are no Hells Angels=82 chapters or other such organized crime
groups like the Sicilian Mafia based out of Newfoundland, Smith says all
these groups have associates who set up criminal organizations and work on
their behalf.

"Basically what we find is that the majority of these criminal
organizations are very well organized, they have people looking after
stashes, they have people looking after transporting stuff back and forth.
These criminal organizations are very sophisticated and some of them are
making big dollars... Some of them are smaller and they're looking at
putting money away to live on. And a lot of these legitimate businesses
have been set up with illegal money. And once they get a business going,
they'll try and legitimize it. We see that a lot."

Smith realizes police forces are often criticized for putting resources
into multi-million marijuana seizures, as has been the case with Operation
Bullwinkle.

While he agrees that some day down the road Canadian laws may change to see
possession of 15 grams of marijuana or less decriminalized, he doesn't
think the drug will ever be legalized in this country.

Because of the increased potency, he doesn't agree with any form of
decriminalization. He has seen and heard too much.

"Years ago, you had Colombian and Mexican marijuana analyzed at four or
five per cent THC (delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol) the most potent you could get.

"Hash was coming from Afghanistan, analyzed at seven or eight per cent THC,
almost double the marijuana. Now pot coming out of B.C. bud is all analyzed
at 18 and 20 per cent THC -- two or three times more potent that hash was
ever thought to be.

"And still they're talking about decriminalizing it. I think they're making
a big mistake. This new crop coming out, one joint will knock your socks
off. I've talked to dozens of sources. They can't even smoke it, it's so
potent it makes them sick."

Smith has also read articles in the last month where two people have died
from a marijuana overdose, something called THC toxicity.

"That's going to be a reality now. And people got to understand that this
is not three or four per cent THC that we're dealing with anymore."