seats, their faces paled. Blackened bones filled the interior: rib cages, vertebrae, shards of shattered femurs — it was like gazing into a makeshift crematorium.
“Mike,” Sergeant Baruta said, struggling to maintain his composure, “secure the area. I’ve got to call Kamloops G.I. This is a homicide investigation now.”
Eye-level views of the Johnson vehicle as seen by detectives.
Royal Canadian Mounted Police
By early afternoon, RCMP investigators Staff Sergeant Michael Eastham and Constable Gerry Dalen had flown up from Kamloops by chopper to conduct a thorough examination of the crime scene. To add to the irritation of the swarming flies, media helicopters hovered over the vicinity, relentlessly seeking out the location. Eastham decided to check the trunk. With the slip of a crowbar, the lid popped open to reveal a grotesque discovery: more bones, including two small skulls that could only belong to children. Their empty eye sockets gazed back hauntingly. In that moment, whatever glimmer of hope the officers had held for Janet and Karen Johnson shrunk to a pinpoint, vanishing into the abyss of those eyes. Though forensics had yet to confirm it, three generations had been slaughtered, burned, and spewed up to the heavens in a cloud of filthy smoke. To complicate matters, the Bentleys’ camper and truck were nowhere to be found, and although the detectives had located the bodies, they had no idea where the family had set up camp.
The burnt-out interior of the Johnson vehicle, in which the charred bodies of all six members of the Johnson/Bentley family were discovered.
Royal Canadian Mounted Police
Cold Lead, False Leads
Seemingly overnight, the Johnson/Bentley murders became the focus of a national media circus. Hotels and restaurants in Clearwater were flooded with journalists, the local economy booming in the wake of one of British Columbia’s most heinous tragedies. The exception, of course, was the campgrounds, where the now infamous Wells Gray Gunman was rumoured to lurk in search of fresh prey. Some stubbornly refused to give in to these fears, bragging that they were armed and ready to tackle any threat that came their way. What they didn’t take into account was that George Bentley had kept a .410/.22 over-under rifle in his truck, which had done little to save him. Meanwhile, as detectives continued to collect evidence and canvas the public for information, a phone call from the Kamloops forensics department revealed that a melted .22 calibre bullet had been retrieved from one of the skulls. The revelation meant that George Bentley’s rifle could have potentially been the murder weapon. In light of this new development, Staff Sergeant Eastham decided to employ metal detectors to search the perimeter for shell casings. **
By now, at least one hundred tips had poured in, all of which had to be checked meticulously. The remains of the Johnson’s Chrysler were transported by a U-Haul cube van to Vancouver, where they would be subjected to closer examination. Further ground and aerial searches, using infrared technology, were carried out on the area in a vain attempt to uncover the missing truck and Vanguard camper. Though some posited the vehicles might be lying at the bottom of a lake or obscured by dense foliage, few among the RCMP imagined they would have left the proximity of the provincial park. That was, until a tip came in from a caller who, on August 24, had spotted an identical truck and camper with B.C. plates at a gas station in North Battleford, Saskatchewan. While dining in the Voyageur restaurant, he had seen two scruffy-looking men exit the truck and overheard them conversing in French. It wasn’t until he saw an artist’s rendition of George Bentley’s truck and camper on television that he finally understood how they could afford such expensive vehicles. Further credence was added to this theory when a waitress in Clearwater mentioned spotting a similar pair in her
“Mike,” Sergeant Baruta said, struggling to maintain his composure, “secure the area. I’ve got to call Kamloops G.I. This is a homicide investigation now.”
Eye-level views of the Johnson vehicle as seen by detectives.
Royal Canadian Mounted Police
By early afternoon, RCMP investigators Staff Sergeant Michael Eastham and Constable Gerry Dalen had flown up from Kamloops by chopper to conduct a thorough examination of the crime scene. To add to the irritation of the swarming flies, media helicopters hovered over the vicinity, relentlessly seeking out the location. Eastham decided to check the trunk. With the slip of a crowbar, the lid popped open to reveal a grotesque discovery: more bones, including two small skulls that could only belong to children. Their empty eye sockets gazed back hauntingly. In that moment, whatever glimmer of hope the officers had held for Janet and Karen Johnson shrunk to a pinpoint, vanishing into the abyss of those eyes. Though forensics had yet to confirm it, three generations had been slaughtered, burned, and spewed up to the heavens in a cloud of filthy smoke. To complicate matters, the Bentleys’ camper and truck were nowhere to be found, and although the detectives had located the bodies, they had no idea where the family had set up camp.
The burnt-out interior of the Johnson vehicle, in which the charred bodies of all six members of the Johnson/Bentley family were discovered.
Royal Canadian Mounted Police
Cold Lead, False Leads
Seemingly overnight, the Johnson/Bentley murders became the focus of a national media circus. Hotels and restaurants in Clearwater were flooded with journalists, the local economy booming in the wake of one of British Columbia’s most heinous tragedies. The exception, of course, was the campgrounds, where the now infamous Wells Gray Gunman was rumoured to lurk in search of fresh prey. Some stubbornly refused to give in to these fears, bragging that they were armed and ready to tackle any threat that came their way. What they didn’t take into account was that George Bentley had kept a .410/.22 over-under rifle in his truck, which had done little to save him. Meanwhile, as detectives continued to collect evidence and canvas the public for information, a phone call from the Kamloops forensics department revealed that a melted .22 calibre bullet had been retrieved from one of the skulls. The revelation meant that George Bentley’s rifle could have potentially been the murder weapon. In light of this new development, Staff Sergeant Eastham decided to employ metal detectors to search the perimeter for shell casings. **
By now, at least one hundred tips had poured in, all of which had to be checked meticulously. The remains of the Johnson’s Chrysler were transported by a U-Haul cube van to Vancouver, where they would be subjected to closer examination. Further ground and aerial searches, using infrared technology, were carried out on the area in a vain attempt to uncover the missing truck and Vanguard camper. Though some posited the vehicles might be lying at the bottom of a lake or obscured by dense foliage, few among the RCMP imagined they would have left the proximity of the provincial park. That was, until a tip came in from a caller who, on August 24, had spotted an identical truck and camper with B.C. plates at a gas station in North Battleford, Saskatchewan. While dining in the Voyageur restaurant, he had seen two scruffy-looking men exit the truck and overheard them conversing in French. It wasn’t until he saw an artist’s rendition of George Bentley’s truck and camper on television that he finally understood how they could afford such expensive vehicles. Further credence was added to this theory when a waitress in Clearwater mentioned spotting a similar pair in her
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