The Mysterious Death of Cindy James: A Case That Defies Explanation

The Mysterious Death of Cindy James: A Decade of Fear Ends in Tragedy

On June 8, 1989, a disturbing discovery was made in the backyard of an abandoned house in Richmond, Canada. Cindy James was found hogtied, drugged, and strangled with a black nylon stocking. Her body, left to decay for a week, marked the tragic conclusion to nearly a decade of unexplained torment.

Born in 1944, Cindy was the third of six children in a household ruled by military precision. Her father, Otto Hack, a colonel in the Royal Canadian Air Force, led the family with a strict, disciplinarian hand, the kind that left little room for warmth or leniency. Like many military families, they lived a transient life, moving from country to country, leaving Cindy to find solace wherever she could.

When Cindy came of age, she struck out on her own, moving to Vancouver to study nursing. Her letters and phone calls home revealed the beginnings of a romance with a fellow intern, an unnamed figure who seemed to offer her stability. But this budding relationship ended abruptly. Cindy confided to her family that her boyfriend had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and, before his illness could progress, had taken his own life.

To those around her, Cindy appeared to handle the loss with remarkable resilience. She threw herself into her studies, eventually crossing paths with South African psychiatrist Roy Makepeace. Roy was 18 years her senior, and despite her family’s unease—both about the age gap and Roy himself—the couple married quickly.

Their marriage, however, was far from ideal. On good days, they seemed content; on bad days, they barely acknowledged each other’s presence. According to Roy, physical violence occurred only twice, but the fractures in their relationship grew until divorce became inevitable.

This was just the beginning of the storm that would define Cindy’s life—and, ultimately, her death.

A Descent Into Fear: The Harassment Begins

Not long after Cindy James’ divorce from Roy Makepeace, her life took a sharp and terrifying turn. Four months after the split, she began receiving phone calls—disturbing, relentless, and at all hours.

“They were just voices,” Cindy’s mother, Tillie Hack, later explained. “Sometimes the tone would change, sometimes it was whispering, and sometimes it was nothing—just silence.”

The calls, already unnerving, escalated. Cindy told her family that she believed someone was lurking around her home. She became so rattled that she called the police after receiving a whisper that stuck with her: “I’ll get you one night, Cindy.”

This wasn’t an empty threat. Rocks were thrown through her windows, her porch lights were smashed, and she’d return home to find her belongings vandalized—her pillows slashed with a knife.

When the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) began investigating, they suggested Cindy keep a log of the harassing calls. The next one came shortly after the police left: “You f**ing btch. I’ll get you. So you think calling the police will keep you safe?”

With every new incident, Cindy’s fear grew. It wasn’t just phone calls anymore—it was an invasion of her home, her sanctuary, and her sense of safety. What started as whispers on the line had turned into a full-scale campaign of terror, and it wasn’t going away.

Escalation: The Threat Becomes Unavoidable

With no clear progress from the police and her safety feeling more precarious by the day, Cindy James took matters into her own hands. She rented out the basement of her house, hoping that the presence of others might deter whoever—or whatever—was tormenting her. It didn’t.

Her tenants reported strange noises emanating from the main floor when Cindy wasn’t home. Neighbors began noticing a man lingering outside her house, watching, though his identity was never confirmed.

The RCMP turned their attention to Cindy’s ex-husband, Roy Makepeace, a seemingly obvious suspect. Yet, their interviews didn’t result in charges. Instead, Roy forged a surprising alliance with one of the lead investigators. Together, they formed an unofficial “task force” that would meet at Cindy’s house to discuss the harassment.

The campaign of terror, however, didn’t stop. Disturbing letters began appearing, escalating the psychological torment. One note, pinned to Cindy’s car, contained an image of a corpse draped in a medical sheet. Around the same time, Cindy discovered her phone lines had been cut in five places. Another letter followed—a picture of a woman with her throat slashed.

Then came the most alarming incident yet. A friend found Cindy unconscious in her backyard, a nylon stocking pulled tight around her neck. When Cindy regained consciousness, she recounted being attacked and strangled by two men. She also claimed they had sexually assaulted her with a knife.

While Cindy’s physical injuries were evident, police found no evidence to corroborate her story. The torment she endured was undeniable—but the lines between fact and perception were beginning to blur, leaving everyone with more questions than answers.

Fighting Back: Cindy’s Attempts to Reclaim Safety

After the attack in her backyard, the police found no evidence to support Cindy James’ claims. Instead, they suggested she see a psychiatrist, a recommendation Cindy initially resisted but eventually conceded to by seeking professional help. Despite the skepticism surrounding her story, Cindy wasn’t about to give up.

Determined to protect herself, Cindy took a series of drastic measures. She painted her car a different color, wore a panic button, and carried pepper spray at all times. She also hired private investigator Ozzie Kaban, creating a lifeline of constant communication through walkie-talkies in case her phone lines were cut again.

The harassment, however, escalated to a more sinister level. Cindy began finding strangled cats in her yard—an ominous warning that her stalker might be preparing for something worse.

A New Level of Terror

One night, Ozzie heard a strange sound over the walkie-talkie and knew something was wrong. He raced to Cindy’s house and found her unconscious on her living room floor. A knife had been driven through her hand, pinning it to the floorboards. Beneath the blade was a chilling note:

“Now you must die, c*nt.”

When Cindy regained consciousness, she claimed a man had entered her yard, struck her over the head, and injected her with something. Doctors confirmed a needle mark but found no traces of drugs in her system.

A Fresh Start That Failed

After recovering, Cindy changed her name, hoping anonymity might protect her. She leaned heavily on her close friends Agnes and Tom Woodcock, who often stayed at her house. But even with them nearby, the terror continued.

One night, the Woodcocks heard a noise coming from the basement. Cindy burst into their room, panicked. Tom investigated and found the basement ablaze. Outside, he spotted a man on the pavement, but the figure ran as Tom approached.

The fire forced Cindy to move in with the Woodcocks. Her friends noticed that her mental state was deteriorating. Cindy stopped eating, and her psychiatrist believed she had become suicidal. Eventually, her doctor admitted her to a psychiatric hospital, where she remained for over ten weeks.

A Life in Crisis

Despite every effort to protect herself, Cindy’s life remained dominated by fear and uncertainty. Whether she was the victim of a relentless stalker or a complex psychological struggle, one thing was clear: Cindy James was running out of ways to fight back.

Seven Years of Fear and an Investigation That Reached a Stalemate

For nearly seven years, Cindy James endured relentless harassment, assaults, and stalking. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) launched a massive investigation, spending around 1.5 million Canadian dollars to track down her elusive tormentor. But despite the time, money, and effort, their findings left everyone reeling.

In all those years, the RCMP found no physical evidence to prove that Cindy had been the victim of an outside attacker. Instead, they developed a shocking theory: Cindy might have been orchestrating the harassment herself.

This theory created a bitter stalemate between Cindy, her family and friends, and law enforcement. Every new report from Cindy was met with skepticism. If another threatening letter appeared, a dead animal turned up, or a bizarre incident occurred, the police countered that there was no way to prove Cindy hadn’t staged it all.

Disappearance and a Troubling Call

As the investigation stalled, Cindy’s life took a final, tragic turn. On May 25, 1989, Cindy vanished. Days passed without a trace, and her family and friends grew increasingly desperate. Then, an unsettling phone call added another layer of mystery. Cindy’s tenant, who also happened to be her life insurance representative, received a call from a man claiming to be Cindy’s father. The caller inquired about Cindy’s life insurance policy. When questioned, Cindy’s actual father, Otto Hack, denied making the call.

A Grim Discovery

On June 8, 1989, Cindy was found in the backyard of an abandoned house in Richmond, Canada. She had been hogtied, drugged, and strangled with a nylon stocking. Investigators determined she had been dead for about a week.

Initially, her cause of death was attributed to high levels of drugs in her bloodstream, including morphine and diazepam. However, the official ruling was later changed to inconclusive. Cindy’s death left a haunting question unanswered: was she the victim of a relentless stalker, or the architect of her own tragic end?

A Final Debate: Suicide, Staging, or Murder?

After Cindy James’ death, the RCMP doubled down on their theory: Cindy had been faking the nearly decade-long campaign of stalking and harassment. At the inquest into her death, investigators suggested that her demise was either an intentional or accidental result of her efforts to stage yet another hoax.

Experts were brought in to support their claims. One testified that Cindy could have tied the complex knots that bound her after injecting herself with the drugs found in her system. To drive the point home, an expert even tied themselves up in court to demonstrate how it could be done.

The Case for a Victim

Cindy’s friends and family were outraged by this narrative. To them, the idea that Cindy had orchestrated her own torment was unthinkable. They argued that Cindy had been the target of a calculated and merciless stalker—one the RCMP had failed to take seriously.

Her private investigator, Ozzie Kaban, took the stand to refute the suicide theory. He pointed to bruising on Cindy’s body, which he believed suggested she had been killed elsewhere and her body moved to the abandoned house.

A Mystery Without Answers

To this day, Cindy James’ death remains shrouded in uncertainty. No official cause or time of death has been determined. Was Cindy the victim of a violent stalker, or the architect of an elaborate and tragic hoax?

The debate continues, leaving Cindy’s case as one of Canada’s most perplexing unsolved mysteries.