Nathaniel Frum

It's a confusing patchwork of jurisdictions across one of the largest countries in the world, if we're talking landmass. But when Clifford Olson was on the loose committing murder after murder, there could be no doubt catching him was the RCMP's responsibility. Before working on this story with Arlene, I thought they'd done a pretty good job. They'd caught a serial killer in a matter of months.

It's a confusing patchwork of jurisdictions across one of the largest countries in the world, if we're talking landmass. But when Clifford Olson was on the loose committing murder after murder, there could be no doubt catching him was the RCMP's responsibility. Before working on this story with Arlene, I thought they'd done a pretty good job. They'd caught a serial killer in a matter of months.

Surely that's a sign of solid police work. But as I learned how many times Olson slipped through the RCMP's fingers, how many victims were ignored, how many interviews they didn't do, how many times Olson was practically begging to be caught, my opinion changed. The authorities didn't explain themselves. Not back then, and not now. This is Calls from a Killer from CBC's Uncover.

Surely that's a sign of solid police work. But as I learned how many times Olson slipped through the RCMP's fingers, how many victims were ignored, how many interviews they didn't do, how many times Olson was practically begging to be caught, my opinion changed. The authorities didn't explain themselves. Not back then, and not now. This is Calls from a Killer from CBC's Uncover.

I'm Nathaniel Frum.

I'm Nathaniel Frum.

So even before 1981, Olson was well known to the RCMP. If not as a serial killer, certainly as a career criminal. And Glenn's right. In his entire adult life, Olson only spent around 1,700 days on the outside, not incarcerated. That's just a little over four and a half years. He was first imprisoned when he was 17, in the late 50s, for a break and enter.

So even before 1981, Olson was well known to the RCMP. If not as a serial killer, certainly as a career criminal. And Glenn's right. In his entire adult life, Olson only spent around 1,700 days on the outside, not incarcerated. That's just a little over four and a half years. He was first imprisoned when he was 17, in the late 50s, for a break and enter.

For the next 22 years, he'd be in and out of custody, tallying up more than 90 convictions. Put away for robberies, burglaries, and forgeries mostly, Olson, by all accounts a charming man, would sometimes be granted early release for good behavior. On other occasions, he had his sentence extended after escape attempts. But he kind of thrived inside.

For the next 22 years, he'd be in and out of custody, tallying up more than 90 convictions. Put away for robberies, burglaries, and forgeries mostly, Olson, by all accounts a charming man, would sometimes be granted early release for good behavior. On other occasions, he had his sentence extended after escape attempts. But he kind of thrived inside.

It was in prison that Olson honed a talent for gaining and dealing in information, a skill that could earn him favor with prison guards, parole boards, and the police. His greatest triumph on that front involved a man named Gary Marcoux.

It was in prison that Olson honed a talent for gaining and dealing in information, a skill that could earn him favor with prison guards, parole boards, and the police. His greatest triumph on that front involved a man named Gary Marcoux.

In 1976, Olson befriended Marcoux while they were both in prison in the B.C. penitentiary. Marcoux was facing charges of rape and murder.

In 1976, Olson befriended Marcoux while they were both in prison in the B.C. penitentiary. Marcoux was facing charges of rape and murder.

The case was at a standstill because the Crown prosecutor, a man named Bob Shantz, didn't feel there was enough evidence to convict. But Olson provided a lucky break. Olson came up with the idea to trick Marcoux into writing down a detailed confession to the murder, under the pretense that he'd help him come up with an alibi.

The case was at a standstill because the Crown prosecutor, a man named Bob Shantz, didn't feel there was enough evidence to convict. But Olson provided a lucky break. Olson came up with the idea to trick Marcoux into writing down a detailed confession to the murder, under the pretense that he'd help him come up with an alibi.

Olson promptly sent the confession to British Columbia's Attorney General and continued to talk to Marcoux on the inside, gradually gathering more evidence. Marcoux eventually pleaded guilty and was sentenced to 25 years without parole, a sensational coup for Prosecutor Shantz and the foundation of Olson's relationship with the RCMP, and his reputation as an effective snitch.

Olson promptly sent the confession to British Columbia's Attorney General and continued to talk to Marcoux on the inside, gradually gathering more evidence. Marcoux eventually pleaded guilty and was sentenced to 25 years without parole, a sensational coup for Prosecutor Shantz and the foundation of Olson's relationship with the RCMP, and his reputation as an effective snitch.

On July 25th, 1981, near a town named Agassiz, four campers came across human remains. They were soon confirmed to belong to Judy Cosma, a 14-year-old girl who had disappeared about two weeks earlier. She had been chalked up as another runaway.

On July 25th, 1981, near a town named Agassiz, four campers came across human remains. They were soon confirmed to belong to Judy Cosma, a 14-year-old girl who had disappeared about two weeks earlier. She had been chalked up as another runaway.