Boden, now in police custody, didn’t confess right away. He admitted to going by the name Bill and taking Porteous on a date on the night of her murder, but insisted she had been perfectly fine when he’d left her. Yes, the cufflink was his, but he was no killer. But as he resembled the man in the photo found in Archambault’s apartment, the police held him anyway on suspicion of murder.
It was the bite marks that did him in. At his trial for the murder of Elizabeth Porteous, a local orthodontist was able to prove through bite mark evidence that the marks on Porteous’s body could not have been made by anyone but Boden. Boden’s conviction was the first in North America to be made by forensic odontological evidence, the same method that would eventually take down Ted Bundy.
For Porteous’s murder, Boden was sentenced to life in prison.
Boden eventually confessed to the Montreal murders, as well, save that of Vaillancourt, which he claimed to know nothing about, though hers was the death that started it all. For the rapes and killings of Audette, Archambault, and Way, Boden was given an additional three life sentences.
No explanation was ever given by Wayne Boden as to why he bit his victim’s breasts, nor did he ever claim to be a vampire — an interesting defence and one that would surely have turned his court case into a circus — but one cannot deny that he did seem to have some of the characteristics commonly attributed to them. Aren’t vampires known to be young, good-looking, and able to use their charms to get the girl into their arms before baring their fangs? It would explain how he managed to get into his victim’s apartments — a vampire can’t force his way in. He has to be invited.
Wild imagining aside, Boden, who died in prison in 2006, was an evil man, a serial killer with a strange quirk, and a murderer who eventually got what he deserved.
The One-Legged Ghost of Jack McLean
Mount Royal
The McGill students living in Molson Hall have all heard the rumours. Don’t go into the woods alone at night, they whisper. Ignore those strange sounds you hear coming out of the dark. Sometimes senior students trick first-year students into believing there’s a cable car that goes up the mountain. “Haven’t you seen it going by?” they ask, their eyes shining with mischief. “Don’t you hear the clicking of the cars at night?”
The woods surrounding the Olmsted trail on Mount Royal are haunted, and the story of how a ghost came to live there begins decades ago, with the opening of the Mount Royal Funicular Railway. Opened in 1895, the funicular was a popular attraction that ran for almost twenty-five years in Mount Royal Park. It consisted of cable cars on rails that ran up and down the mountain at a forty-degree angle. Starting near the current McConnell Arena and running all the way to the peak, the funicular allowed riders to enjoy spectacular views of the city. The cost of a ride was five cents to go up, and twenty-five people could ride at a time. Excited visitors boarded the cars in droves when the attraction first opened. Little did they know that just steps from where they stood there would soon be a gruesome discovery.
As described on the Haunted Mountain walk conducted by Haunted Montreal, it was July 1896 when a park guard came upon a dead body covered by a curtain near the start of the rail line. When he pulled the curtain away he noticed that the man had had one of his legs amputated, but this detail was entirely forgotten when he was confronted by another far more horrifying sight: The dead man’s face was horribly burned, his jaw agape, his features nearly unrecognizable. His lips were blistered, his skin destroyed, and, worst of all, his trachea was burned clear through. An awful odour that reminded the guard of tar was emanating from the corpse’s face.
When the body was thoroughly examined, it was discovered that a handkerchief drenched in carbolic acid had been stuffed down the man’s throat and the death was ruled a suicide. Those wanting to take their own lives often used carbolic acid, a common household disinfectant at the turn of the century. Death by carbolic acid is agonizing but swift, producing a quick succession of intense pain, vomiting, paralysis, and coma until the heart stops beating. So, who was this poor soul who’d chosen such a grisly end?
The identification in his pocket listed him as John “Jack” McLean, a once-famous athlete who had played for the McGill football team. Married with two children, Jack had taken on a second job as a train changer to make some extra money. One day while doing his job on the train tracks, Jack’s foot became stuck in the rails as a train was going by, severing his leg. The injury summarily ended his athletic career and sank Jack into a terrible depression. He was often seen hobbling around the park on his crutches and getting drunk among the trees. Some even reported seeing him climbing the cable car rails while the funicular was in operation, though how he could have done so with his injury remains to be seen. Then one day Jack decided he could no longer stand to live and took a bottle of carbolic acid to the park.
After Jack’s death, strange things began to happen to the funicular. The cars began to break down for no apparent reason. Sometimes the metal cables that pulled the cars up and down would snap, again without any apparent cause, and the fire brigade would have to be called to rescue stranded, terrified passengers. White orbs of light could be seen floating in the woods around the tracks at night.
The funicular was taken out of commission in 1918 and its metal rails sold to a recycling company (there was a shortage of metal after the First World War). But the end of the funicular was not the end of the funicular’s ghost.
The Mount Royal Funicular, circa 1900. To the left of the tracks is where the McGill residence halls now stand.
There are several McGill residences next to the path where the funicular once ran, and the students who live there consistently report strange occurrences. Orbs are often seen floating in the canopy of the forest. A male voice can be heard crying for help in the night. When it’s late and everyone is sleeping, the sound of grinding and clicking metal can be heard, as though a cable car is passing by.
In 2012, a student was walking on the path in the evening after class. A man wearing a heavy cloak approached her out of the dark and took her firmly by the shoulders. Startled and feeling the first tendrils of fear, the student pulled out her cellphone for some light, as the path was only dimly lit. Brandishing her phone, she turned it on to reveal the man’s face and gasped at what she saw, for his skin was puckered and burned and there were holes right through his neck. He seemed to be struggling to speak, and as he opened his mouth pleadingly, she turned on her heel and ran.
Murdered by the Mob:
Organized Crime in Montreal
Like any large North American city with a long history, Montreal has its share of gangsters, gamblers, mobsters, and mafiosi fighting for control of the city’s illegal activities. As a major port, Montreal has been more popular than most, and it has been a fought-over locale for organized crime syndicates over the years. Of course, when the mob moves in, murder inevitably follows. To describe every ghastly homicide committed by mafia members over the years would be an impossible and stomach-turning task. But here, in no particular order, are just a few noteworthy murders carried out by the mob.
Harry Davis, Jewish Mob Boss, 1946
During the ’30s and ’40s, when gambling was illegal in Canada, the underground gambling operations in Montreal were mainly run by the Jewish mafia. In 1946 Harry Davis was the “edge man,” the boss of the Jewish mafia. He was also involved in drug smuggling, for which he had served twelve years in prison at Montreal’s St-Vincent-de-Paul Penitentiary. His former partner, Charles “Charlie” Feigenbaum, testified against him, and it’s