I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit falling down the Pickton rabbit hole. While other people binge Netflix comedies, I’m over here obsessively mapping timelines and suspect connections like some caffeinated conspiracy theorist. (Ryan walked in on me once with crime scene photos spread across our coffee table and just slowly backed out of the room. Marriage is about acceptance, people.)
But the question that keeps me up at night isn’t whether Pickton killed those women—it’s whether he did it alone.
The Lone Wolf Theory Falls Apart
Robert Pickton was convicted of murdering six women, but claimed to have killed 49. That’s a staggering body count for one man operating solo on a pig farm, especially considering the logistics involved in targeting, transporting, and disposing of victims.
His jailhouse confession hinted at accomplices, which sent true crime communities into a frenzy faster than a new Netflix documentary drops on a Friday night.
The confession alone wouldn’t mean much (killers lie all the time—shocking, I know), but other evidence makes the lone wolf theory about as believable as my promise to stop buying true crime books.
The Hells Angels Connection That Nobody Wants to Touch
Here’s where things get as messy as a poorly processed crime scene. Pickton’s farm reportedly hosted parties attended by Hells Angels members. Bill Hiscox, who worked for Pickton, told police about suspicious activities and possible connections to the notorious motorcycle gang.
And what happened to those leads? About as much as happens when I tell Ryan I’ll do the dishes “later”—absolutely nothing.
The Missing Women Commission of Inquiry refused to investigate potential Hells Angels connections, which is like investigating a bank robbery but refusing to look at the bank vault. This decision fueled conspiracy theories faster than my morning coffee fuels my crime research binges.
When Evidence Goes Missing, Questions Multiply
DNA from 33 women was found on Pickton’s farm. THIRTY-THREE. Yet prosecutors dropped 20 murder charges after his initial conviction.
I’ve abandoned fewer Netflix shows mid-season than the justice system abandoned these victims. (And I have the attention span of a crime-obsessed squirrel.)
The decision to drop these charges raises uncomfortable questions about whether authorities wanted to avoid exposing a wider network. It’s either that or the most baffling resource allocation since I bought that $200 luminol kit for “home use.” (Ryan still brings this up during arguments.)
The Cover-Up Theories: Paranoia or Possibility?
Claims of police corruption and cover-ups sound like plots from the crime novels stacked precariously on my nightstand, but they’ve persisted for reasons that can’t be dismissed with an eye roll.
When Pickton published a book from prison claiming innocence, it felt like the final twisted chapter in a story where justice remains elusive. The fact that he could profit from his crimes while families still searched for closure is about as palatable as gas station sushi.
The System Failed These Women Twice
First, it failed to protect them—vulnerable women from Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside who society found easier to ignore than help. Then it failed to fully investigate their deaths.
The controversy surrounding the inquiry suggests officials were more concerned with protecting reputations than finding truth. It’s like using a Band-Aid for a chainsaw wound—woefully inadequate and suspiciously misguided.
What Keeps Me Awake at Night
I’m not saying there was definitely a network of accomplices helping Pickton. I’m saying the refusal to thoroughly investigate the possibility is as suspicious as someone wearing a hazmat suit to take out the trash.
The families of these women deserve more than partial justice. They deserve the whole truth, even if that truth implicates people in positions of power or influence.
So I’ll keep digging, mapping connections on my murder board (yes, I actually have one, and no, Ryan is not amused by its prominent placement in our dining room), and asking the questions that should have been answered years ago.
Because sometimes, the most chilling part of a true crime story isn’t what we know—it’s what someone doesn’t want us to find out.
Lock your doors tonight. Not because Robert Pickton is coming for you, but because someone who helped him might still be out there.