The life of Darcy Knape, prolific cat burglar.
THE LIFE OF ONE OF VANCOUVER’S MOST PROLIFIC CAT BURGLARS
From one break- in to the next, the same sloppy pattern emerges. The cat burglar smashes a window, cuts himself as he climbs through and leaves behind traces of blood. In one case, so much blood that the homeowners think they’ve stumbled upon a murder scene.
But the man Vancouver police recently identified as a suspect in at least 11 residential break- ins spanning the past decade is no amateur B & E artist. Though far from feline- stealth, Darcy Knape may be one of Vancouver’s most prolific burglars.
Knape, 52, admitted in 2008 he may have committed up to 150 break- ins, according to a parole board report. His lengthy rap sheet — mostly for property offences — begins when he was 18.
“The only things about the law I know are obviously from the wrong side of it,” said Knape in a recent interview, though he disputed telling the parole board he had broken into 150 homes. “I don’t think I’d be talking candidly like that.”
He said he expected to plead not guilty to the new string of charges.
Knape, who lives in a ground- f l oor unit in a boarding house near the Downtown Eastside, said he had a part- time job but “that’s over.”
“If I were the upper echelon of law enforcement I’d be really trying to stop the import of drugs or the sale of them on the street, really, because if you cut that out … minimum 50 per cent of property crime ( would drop).”
Archived court records show Knape has been battling addiction most of his adult l i fe. In an apology letter to one of his victims in 2007, Knape said he was sorry his “drug- addicted life” had caused so much grief. “I blame street drugs 100% for my state of mind at the time. I am telling you this not as an excuse but as an explanation.”
At first glance, Knape’s public record resembles a comedy of errors. Last August, he had to dial 911 when, during a botched attempt to break through the skylight of a multimilliondollar home, he got stuck on a steep- pitched roof and couldn’t find a way down.
A 1998 Vancouver police report shows he once tumbled off a roof and injured his ankle. In his possession at the time were “wrenches and a screwdriver, a slingshot and rocks.”
But court records, including letters of support from Knape’s family, offer some insights into his past.
Knape was born in Victoria. His parents divorced when he was young.
He got hooked on drugs as a teenager.
He has two brothers and two sisters. One of those sisters, who lives in England, once described Knape as “generous to a fault” and someone who was “wonderful with children.”
His late grandfather was a respected art historian and senior staff member in the Queen’s gallery at Buck- ingham Palace. Sometimes Knape would travel to England and help his grandfather research art projects.
He is said to be a gifted goldsmith and gemologist with a knack for making jewelry and wood figurines. “My home has many items crafted by my son and presented to me from when he was in his teens through to adulthood,” his mother once wrote.
“I am very close to my son and am heartbroken at the way his life has been destroyed by narcotics.”
His criminal rap sheet begins in 1983. He’s had at least 30 run-ins with the law since then.
One of his letters to his victims suggests he is capable of empathy. In a neatly printed letter from March 1999, Knape writes: “I know mere words cannot dispel the trauma of having your home broken into and ransacked by some unknown person, but you can rest assured that the courts are dealing with it and I will receive the punishment they see fit.”
The burglary was nothing personal, he continued, “but rather, the random act of a drug addict.” His vice is heroin. There have been stretches when he has been drug-free. In the 2007 apology letter to his victims, Knape wrote he had been making “good progress” in recent years by attending counselling, man- aging his addiction with methadone, working parttime as a handyman “and most importantly, staying away from the Downtown Eastside and drugs.”
Then he made a “bad decision” and took “two little pills.”
The judge wasn’t sympathetic. Some beat their drug addictions, others don’ t. “For you, it is going to be a battle for the rest of your life,” the judge said, before sentencing him to two years.
“At your age,” the judge continued, “rehabilitation is not of significance.”
In 2008, a parole report called Knape’s conditional release history appalling. “You have breached recognizance/ probation orders, gone UAL ( unlawfully at large), and re- offended. You also have a history of escaping lawful custody.”
The same report noted Knape had an “egocentric view of the world” and was prone to impulsivity, selfpity and viewing himself as deprived or victimized.
“Unfortunately, you seem to have a number of incompatibility issues with other offenders,” the report said, noting he had spent time in segregation for his personal safety.
In early April, Vancouver police, citing DNA evidence, announced Knape had been charged in connection with nine break- ins from 2010 through 2016. Evidence was still being gathered in two additional cases.
All the homes are in some of Vancouver’s priciest neighbourhoods — Shaughnessy, Kerrisdale, Dunbar — marked by cherry blossom-lined streets and manicured lawns. They are assessed at between $ 3.3 million and $8.5 million.
Three sets of owners told the Post they were out of the house at the time of their break- ins, suggesting whoever had broken in had cased their properties.
Chris and Kyra, who declined to give their last names, had their bungalow broken into in early 2015.
Chris’ first reaction upon stepping into the house: “How many people got killed here?”
The burglar, who had busted through the front window, cut himself so severely he bled throughout the house.
As the burglar ransacked an upstairs office and downstairs bedroom, he left behind smears of blood on their floors, furniture, bed sheets, pillows, light switches, walls, drawer handles and wardrobe — even a bloodied shoe print on their young son’s backpack. A blood trail continued down the back alley and along several blocks.
The couple lost thousands of dollars in jewelry — including Chris’ wedding ring, Kyra’s gold bangle, items passed down from her grandmother or given to her for graduation — two cameras and cash.
“Anything substantial to steal, he found it,” Chris said.
The psychological impact of the break- in was hard to overcome. Kyra didn’t soon forget the metallic stench of the blood. Falling asleep was a challenge.
“You’re on high alert,” she said.
The couple has now installed video cameras around the house and ripped out trees and shrubs to increase visibility.
James Sherren, Knape’s lawyer, said it would be inappropriate to comment on the charges. He did add, however, that if Knape were to be convicted, “it might be sensible to wonder whether any intervention that’s ever come to bear on him by way of a sentence has actually done more harm than good.”
Providing access to social services and community support is, arguably, a better use of public funds, he said.
Homeowners who Knape allegedly targeted are divided.
Compassion is required for those with drug addictions, say a retired couple who were burgled.
“They are simply surviving,” the wife said. If Knape was the person who broke into their home, rehabilitation must be pursued.
“Jail won’t solve anything at all,” the husband said.
For Chris and Kyra, however, it’s hard to feel sorry for someone who commits such a brazen act. Tougher sentences are needed to create a deterrent.
“People make choices, they have to be held responsible,” Kyra said.
Drugs are no excuse for breaking into someone’ s home and upending their lives, Chris added.
“You’ve got a problem, don’ t make it someone else’s.”
I KNOW MERE WORDS CANNOT DISPEL THE TRAUMA.