Crazy Town: The Rob Ford Story (33 page)

On the morning of the Project Traveller raids, because of Jayme Poisson’s excellent information, a dozen
Star
reporters and photographers left for Etobicoke around 2
A.M
., hours before forty-two tactical teams in riot gear would descend on the neighbourhood. Two groups of us were stationed at the towers. Another was in front of the mayor’s home—just in case. And two more roved the area, keeping an eye on the local police detachment, Muhammad Khattak’s home, and 15 Windsor.

I was sitting in a parked car in front of 320 Dixon, not far from where I’d watched the video a month earlier. A group of kids, probably in their late teens or early twenties, were partying on a twelfth-floor balcony, smoking, drinking, and taking photos of themselves with their cell phones. Their laughter echoed between the towers. They had no idea what was coming. I’d later learn that the unit they were in was one of the apartments to get raided.

I, on the other hand, did know what was coming, but the scope of it still caught me off guard. At 5
A.M.
, to the minute, a convoy of white cube vans rolled into the Dixon lot. Before the vans even stopped, the rear doors were sliding open revealing what looked like well over one hundred police officers in riot gear, with black vests, helmets, and knee pads. Some were wearing black masks. They marched silently into the buildings, carrying guns and battering rams. The parking lot changed from being nearly empty to a war zone in less than fifteen seconds.

Once the officers were inside, my colleagues and I got out of the car for a better look, keeping a safe distance so as not to
interfere. Suddenly, there was a blast and a flicker of light from inside the 320 tower. A woman screamed. Lights in the dark towers started coming on as people went to their windows to investigate. Another crack split the air. The police were using percussion grenades, otherwise known as “flashbangs.” After smashing in a door, officers use them to disorient the people inside. They’re mostly safe, although they will leave a black scorch mark on the floor. For the next hour, police led half a dozen people out of the towers in handcuffs. Investigators seized various electronics from many of the units.

Anthony Smith’s friend Muhammad Khattak was among those arrested. So was a man named Monir Kassim, who we soon learned was the remaining man in the Ford photo. Kassim, twenty, was charged with trafficking in weapons and drugs—cocaine and marijuana, specifically—for the benefit of a criminal organization and a firearm offence. Khattak was also charged with trafficking cocaine for the gang, as well as dealing marijuana. This was a key development in the story. People said they didn’t believe us because we couldn’t produce a video. Yet here we had a photo that showed the mayor with a dead man and two men arrested for dealing cocaine. (Mohamed Farah, the broker, was also swept up in the raid on charges of possessing the proceeds of crime and several gun-related offences.)

At a noon press conference, Toronto police announced that they’d made nineteen arrests in Toronto and that dozens of others had taken place across the country. The year-long probe, which had involved seventeen police agencies, had netted drugs worth three million dollars, forty firearms, and hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash.

The
Star
played the story huge. We had live coverage on our website, a live blog, videos, photos, and frequently updated stories. As for the connection to the mayor, we decided to let readers connect the dots. That morning, we reported that Toronto police were executing raids in an Etobicoke neighbourhood that was “ground zero for the alleged Rob Ford crack cocaine video scandal.” CTV News took it further. By lunch, they were reporting that a “highly placed source” had confirmed to the network that individuals being targeted in Project Traveller had been heard discussing the crack video on wiretaps.

“CTV News has learned that Toronto police were investigating the existence of an alleged video involving Mayor Rob Ford, several weeks before the story first appeared in the
Toronto Star
. As part of the investigation leading to the raids on Thursday, officers obtained telephone wire-tap evidence,” the story said. In Canada, it is illegal to write about an active wiretap. It is not unusual for police to leave wiretaps in place for several days after arrests take place to capture reaction from people of interest.

At a press conference at Police Headquarters that afternoon, Deputy Chief Mark Saunders said investigators were targeting the Dixon City Bloods. “This gang has been networking with associates from Windsor to Edmonton since 2006, where members have been responsible and involved in shootings, robberies, possession, and trafficking of drugs and firearms.” Chief Bill Blair said investigators believed the gang was part of a network of gun smugglers moving weapons across the border through Windsor. “I think we’ve cut off that pipeline, that supply of guns, and that’s going to make the city of Toronto a safer place.”

But when it came time for questions, the media wanted to know about the mayor. The chief was asked if the investigation into the Dixon City Bloods had extended to the mayor’s office. “I’m not in a position to disclose that,” he said. Neither would he say whether officers had come across Ford’s name during the year-long probe. When asked about the photo in front of 15 Windsor Road, he confirmed that it was real and that “there are aspects of those individuals who form part of this investigation.” Again and again, Blair was asked about whether Ford had connections to Project Traveller, and every time the chief was interestingly vague. “All of the evidence has been secured and it will come out in court, where it belongs,” Blair said. “We will not jeopardize this case.”

His silence was remarkable.

As
Star
columnist Rosie DiManno wrote afterwards, “Given the intense speculation since Crackgate exploded, the questions flung daily at the mayor—which he has largely refused to answer, apart from saying that he is not a crack addict and insisting no videotape exists—Blair could have easily removed Ford from the equation by clearly stating what the investigation is not pursuing, the angles that have no merit or traction, which wouldn’t compromise the case when it’s prosecuted. This Blair painstakingly avoided doing.”

At City Hall, the mayor played dumb. “I understand there were some raids done on Dixon Road. Some houses that are, I think, they’re on Windsor … that’s all I know,” Ford said. Reporters tried to question him again later in the day. “I’ve answered so many questions, I don’t know if you guys can’t get it through your thick skulls. Seriously? … I’ve already answered all these questions. I have nothing to do with this.”

Ford was asked if he believed he was under investigation.

“They can investigate me all they want. I haven’t done anything wrong,” he said. “I have nothing to hide.”

FIFTEEN

OUTRIGHT

WAR

W
hen Alexander “Sandro” Lisi left his Etobicoke home on July 11, 2013, a Toronto police surveillance team was following him. Officers watched as Lisi gassed up his Range Rover, visited with friends, and made a stop at Richview Cleaners.

Then the officers tailed Lisi to another gas station, an Esso, which happened to be located at the end of Rob Ford’s street. When Lisi arrived at 5:40
P.M.
, the mayor’s black Escalade was already there. Ford had shown up two minutes earlier and headed straight to the bathroom, despite the fact that his house was less than a minute away.

Lisi parked his Range Rover on the far side of the gas pumps and climbed out carrying a large manila envelope. He walked to the back of his car, put something inside, then headed into the kiosk while text messaging. Ford was still in the bathroom. Lisi grabbed a few bottles of Gatorade and a bag of chips, then headed to the cash register. At 5:42
P.M
. he went back outside, looked around, walked to the mayor’s Escalade, and slipped the manila envelope into the passenger side. A few minutes later, Ford left the washroom, bought some Gatorade and chewing gum, then went back to his Escalade and drove off.

Ford’s approval rating had climbed 5 points since the crack story broke. Those close to him say he felt emboldened, having once again survived a scandal where others had written him off. Perhaps he thought he was being careful. Perhaps he felt invincible. Or maybe he couldn’t stop himself. Whatever the explanation, Ford’s drinking and drug use didn’t slow down that summer. If anything, he became reckless.

The police investigation into Rob Ford had begun on May 18, two days after the story of the crack video broke. Between June 26 and September 7, 2013, investigators involved in Project Brazen 2 documented nearly a dozen covert handoffs between Lisi and Ford: at his child’s soccer game, at the Esso station, at Ford’s home, in a small park that in 2010 the city had renamed Douglas Ford Park in honour of the mayor’s late father.

The pair’s preferred meeting spot seemed to be the parking lot of Scarlett Heights high school, which is about the length of three football fields away from his mother’s home. The scenario was usually the same: Ford would drive up in his Escalade, Lisi in his Range Rover. Lisi would get out of his car carrying something—a plastic bag, an oversized computer case, dry cleaning, a gift bag—and get into Ford’s SUV. They’d sit for a while, sometimes an hour, then part ways.

There was a meeting on Monday, August 26, two days before the mayor casually confessed to reporters he had “smoked a lot” of marijuana. And two more in early September, around the time the Ontario Press Council held hearings into the
Toronto Star
’s and
The Globe and Mail
’s reporting on the Fords.

On one occasion, Ford met another individual in the lot— someone in a white stretch limousine. At least one of Ford’s Scarlett visits was photographed by a Cessna spy plane. It was
Sunday, July 28, and Ford had spent his early afternoon on Newstalk 1010, explaining to listeners why Toronto desperately needed a proper football stadium. At 4:15
P.M
., he was followed to a liquor store in Etobicoke. With the sun still high in the sky, the mayor drove over to Scarlett Heights and parked in the empty rear lot. He tossed something in the garbage and then waited, reading something on his lap. A little while later, Lisi arrived. He parked about twenty feet away and then walked over to the Escalade carrying some McDonald’s takeout and a white plastic bag. Ford and Lisi sat for thirty minutes, eating and talking. At one point, the mayor got out to urinate under some trees. Before they went their separate ways, Lisi also tossed something in the garbage.

Later, police went to investigate. Lisi had thrown out a submarine sandwich bag. Ford had gotten rid of two empty liquor bottles—Iceberg Vodka and Russian Prince Vodka—as well as a McDonald’s receipt.

On one occasion, one of Ford’s staff members met Lisi at a grocery store near the mayor’s house. Court records would show that Ford sometimes asked his young special assistants to set up meetings with Lisi.

It wasn’t just the mayor’s behaviour that was troubling for investigators, it was the company he was keeping. Lisi had an extensive criminal record, including criminal harassment, assaulting an ex-girlfriend, and threatening another woman. And he wasn’t the only dodgy person the mayor of Toronto was hanging out with.

There was also Bruno Bellissimo, whom Ford had known since high school. Bellissimo, an admitted crack user with a fraud and theft convictions, had been with the mayor and Lisi
at the Garrison Ball. On March 25—the night before the
Star
’s story about that event was published—Ford had gone to visit Bellissimo at the Toronto West Detention Centre after visiting hours. Bellissimo had been arrested for assaulting his parents and threatening to kill his mother. Ford had initially asked if he could have a tour of the facility, since he was the mayor. When the guards refused, Ford revealed that he wanted to see Bellissimo. He was again denied. On August 12, the day before one of Ford’s clandestine meetings with Lisi,
The Globe and Mail
wrote about the mayor’s mysterious jailhouse visit. Ford has never explained what he was doing there.

A few days before the
Globe
story appeared, Ford had shown up drunk at Toronto’s Taste of the Danforth street festival. Someone there filmed him slurring and swaying, telling people on the street he wanted to go “party.” When the footage landed on YouTube, it caused a firestorm. It was the first time Toronto residents were presented with indisputable evidence of Ford being impaired. On his Sunday radio show, Ford admitted to having had a few beers, a significant confession, considering his reaction to the Garrison Ball story.

In the middle of August, the
Toronto Star
published a front-page story exposing Ford’s connections to Etobicoke’s drug scene, the nefarious company he was keeping, and the fact that Toronto police were investigating attempts by the mayor’s friends to get back the crack video—a video Ford still claimed did not exist. Even with the spotlight again drawn to his substance use, Ford continued to live recklessly. He didn’t stop meeting with Lisi, partying with friends, and drinking to excess. On August 27, police were yet again called to Ford’s home for a domestic assault. No charges were laid.

By now, Project Brazen 2 was hardly a covert operation. Even the Fords knew they were being watched. (Doug Ford would later tell the
Toronto Sun
he’d seen a surveillance plane circling overhead at his mother’s home. He told the paper, “I stood there and gave them the finger.”) But the billion-dollar question was, What would come of it? Were police going to charge the mayor? Or just his friends? If so, what was on the table? Drug use? Something to do with the video?

The answer came at 8
P.M
. on October 1. Word came down that Toronto police were raiding numerous addresses in north Etobicoke. Sandro Lisi, as well as an associate of his, fortyseven-year-old Jamshid Bahrami, the owner of Richview Cleaners dry-cleaning shop, had been taken into custody. Lisi was charged with marijuana trafficking, possession of the proceeds of crime, possession of marijuana, and conspiracy to commit an indictable offence. Bahrami was charged with possession of cocaine, three counts of trafficking in marijuana, and conspiracy to commit an indictable offence. That night, I waited in a car near Ford’s house with
Star
reporter Jayme Poisson. We watched a chubby raccoon wander up and down the sidewalk for a few hours. It was quiet.