WV men, 6 others, accused of defrauding government of $41m EIGHT PEOPLE ~ cluding two West Van- couver men — and a com- pany have been indicted in B.C. Supren.e Court for allegedly defrauding the government of more than $41 million. By Michael Becker News Reporter The charges stem from alleged frauds committed in 1984 and 1985 under the now-defunct Scientific Research Tax Credit Program. Accused are lawyer Roger E. Lawrence of West Vancouver, Michael L. Vaz, last knewn to be residing in West Vancouver, former North Vancouver resident Michael Richards, Victor J. Attrill of London, England, Ronald L. Johnson of Richmond, Dara M. Wilder and Scona J. Wilder, both of Bellingham, Washington, Gerald M. Byerlay of Chilliwack, and Mid-Pacific Services Inc., a company based in Vancouver. Lawrence, Vaz, Richards, At- trill, Johnson, Byerlay and Dara M. Wilder face eight fraud-related charges that allege frauds involv- ing over $41 million. Lawrence, Vaz, Richards, At- trill, Johnson and Dara M, Wilder are charged jointly. with one count of possessing more than $1,000 known to them as money obtained fraudulently. Mid-Pacific Services Inc. and Lawrence are charged jointly with one count of unlawfully possess- ing property worth more than $1,000 known to be property ob- tained fraudulently. Dara M. Wilder and Seona J. Wilder, meanwhile, are charged jointly with one count of unlawfully possessing pro.erty worth more than $1,000 known io be obtained fraudulently. Bail for Lawrence was set ai $375,000 on Dec. 19. Byerlay’s bail was sei at $50,00C on Dec. 20. Bail for Richards had 2 .t been determined to press time. The other accused are still at large. Paul Halprin, special counsel appointed to act on behalf of the B.C. Attorney-General, said all of the accused in ‘4+ case allegedly participated “in a scheme to defraud her majesty the Queen of $41 million by issuing false certificates claiming expen- ditures had been made for tax research and development pur- poses. Whereas no expenditures were niade at all.’”’ Meanwhile, on July 6, 1989, West Vancouver Police were call- ed to Lawrence’s British Proper- ties home after a minor explosion was set off by gunpowder. In a related incident, a homemade cof- fin was delivered to a nearby home four hours later. The coffin bore an ‘‘R.1.P.” inscription. On the same day, two coffins were dropped off on the front lawn of businessman Ron Johnson in Richmond, Johnson’s car was mysteriously torched two days earlier. A coffin was also delivered to a Granville Island business bearing the inscription R.I.P. Mike Richards. The bizarre incidents followed a coffin drop-off earlier that week at the Bellingham, Washington home of former Vancouver businessman Dara Wilder. Wilder received two coffins and had his car torched. Sunday. December 23, 1990 - North Shore News - 3 t “4 bs ~ NEWS photo Cindy Goodman GUIDO CARBONE knows his trees. The Christmas tree salesman has been in the business for 20 years. Here he holds up two beauties at his Westview Shopping Centre tree lot. TI Hitchhiker finds God on the Trans Canada Hwy. {N the spirit of Christmas, the News presents a personal testimonial to higher powers and religious enlightenment from North Shore freelance writer and columnist Syd Stone. ALTHOUGH it was now long into the afternoon, we’d been stuck hitchhiking on the same spot since early morn- ing. We shuffled on the roadside to keep warm. It was late August of -1967, somewhere between Wawa and White River in Ontario, and we were trying to get back to North Vancouver with 20 cents in our pockets. That was 20 cents each, mind you. Although Ontario is officially a province, from Sudbury, where the highway snakes north, and be- fore it reaches ‘civilization’ at Thunder Bay, I’m sure it crosses the Arctic Circle, It’s a mean stretch of cold road. I'd heard stories about it, from of all people, the police. A patrol car had pulted up. The officer had warned us that two men had recently been dropped off near the same spot we were on and, after three ghastly days and nights of hitchhiking, had been picked up by the authorities to save them from starvation and exposure. The central point along this hostile route is White River, On- tario, where a big sign brags: ‘160 degrees below zero -~ coldest spot in Canada.’ It's a sign my companions and | should have heeded on our way east. Two months previously, eight of-us had set out from the North Shore, hitchhiking in pairs, to reach Montreal and see Expo '67 on Canada’s 100th birthday. By Syd Stone North Shore freelance writer Then, instead of heading home, we'd foolishly hitchhiked further east, to see Quebec City. Then we realized, with panic setting in, both how broke and how very far we were from home. We simply made a pact to get back as soon as we could, drew a partner and started out for home. Now, after a week of appalling hitchhiking, we were only 500 miles west of Quel i with my partner, Terry ; shivering on the gravel shoulder worth of Sudbury and dreaming of the North Shore’s warm, leafy, August streets 2,000 miles distant. At that moment an Ontario Provincial Police cruis. : -ulled over, Everywhere else in Canada, the cops checked your 1.D. Here they checked your health. He said he’d be back in the morning, as if he already knew how hopeless our situation was. An odd man came wandering sip the hill toward us. He told us we'd ever get a ride, because on- ly local traffic came through here and they didn’t pick up anybody — a fact confirmed by our miserable, inching progress so far. In their wisdom, the CNR had seen fit to employ this fellow as a switchman. He pointed to his switchman’s shack beside the tracks at the bottom of the hill and advised us to hop the next westbound freight. The trains had to slow down to 10 mph to take a curve here, he said, so it was easy to jump on board. We'd both hopped freights be- fore, so we followed him down. He even showed us where to stand. Sure enough, the freight train came whistling around the bend right on schedule. In the next instant, it roared by my nose at 40 mph. I’ve never stood so close to anything sc big moving so fast. I was rooted to the spot with terror. We looked back at the man’s tiny shack, but he never emerged again. Perhaps he'd dwelt there for years, a Twilight Zone figure, appearing only to lure starving hitchhikers to their deaths. Cold, broke, hungry and rattl- ed, we trudged back up to our former place on the road. Sud- denly a car stopped, but only to disgorge its passengers: two Newfie wayfarers who literally had only the shirts on their backs. With four of us, the chances of getting a ride exponentially decreased, especially since there ‘was now only one car, presumably driven by a xenophobic local, every half an hour or so. The sun sank. The chill sharpened. Suddenly one of the Newfies socked the other. His partner grabbed him by the throat and throtued him. Soon they were locked in a death struggle, rolling back and forth across the white line. A Jone car swerved around them, its horn wailing. We watched, incredulous. After a time they stopped, and I asked what the hell they were do- ing. **Keepin’ warm,” they doth said cheerfully, as one walloped the other. They leapt out and fought like two pit bulls on the asphalt again to demonstrate. “‘We're flat broke and been try- ing to get to Vancouver for a week,’’ I told them peevishly. “‘If you’re going to keep that up, go on down the road."’ This caused them to move 40 feet ahead of us. We watched wretchedly as they now created an outpost of bad taste for any motorist who even had the remotest thought of pick- ing up a hitchhiker. At sunset we walked down Index @ Classified Ads ....... 52 @ Cocktails & Caviar . & Comics... . M Spiritually Speaking ..26 Travel .. @ Vintage Years....... 42 @ What's Going On ....45 Weather Sunday and Monday. mostly cloudy with chance of flurries or showers. Lows, -2°C, highs. 3°C. Tuesday. chance of snow. High near 5'C Front page photo SANTA CLAUS pays a visit to four-year-old Elysee Gilbertson. The North Shore News wishes all its readers a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. News photograph by Mike Wakefield. Secon Class Registration Number 3885 ie road to faith. toward the tiny gas station at the foot of the hill. It was freezing. I was going to beg shelter. The last rays of the sun illuminated a little white church on the opposite rise. God, J thought, looking at the church, if you're listening, please get me home now. If you do, I swear I'll believe for the rest of muy life. The effect was immediate, and electrifying. As we got to the gas station a big Chrysler roared in. | asked the driver if he was heading west and he said, sure, hop in. {n a few moments we were hurtling down the road like a comet at [20 mph. We'd even stopped to pick up the Newfies, depositing them safe- ly in the back. The car’s seats were as roomy and soft and homey as couches. The heater was on, The driver was a travelling salesman who knew every curve on the highway and paid for our food. We shot westward across the map as the cities whipped by -— Thunder Bay, Winnipeg, Regina, and at Saskatoon, where Terry departed, | stuck out my thumb. The first car pulled in, whisking me to Calgary. To catch my breath | went into a cafe and spent my last 20 cents on tea. I emerged, stuck out my thumb again and boom — the first car pulled in, drove non-stop and deposited me at my parent’s front door near Grand Boulevard. All I know is that I saw a church and made a promise. Upon doing so I was delivered home like some sort of Priority Federal Ex- press Package, rocketing 2,000 miles across Canada in under 30 hours. I’d been fed the entire way. I couldn’t have taken anything faster — not a train, not even an express Greyhound, and even in 1967, 20 cents didn’t buy an airplane ticket. ‘Was it the power of prayer? Possibly. It seemed I was fucky enough to have asked for proof and got it. Maybe a part of the deal was telling you the story. The other part was believing. Da | believe? You bet. Because believe me, you only need that kind of demonstration once. Bearing that in mind, it makes you wonder what it must have been like to actually have been there 2,000 years ago, and as it’s Christmas, [’H leave you with that thought.