It was usually dark when he arrived. The women were alone and he never knocked.

That's when I realized somebody had been in the house. She started to cry. I said, no, everything is gone.

It slipped in. Steal out. She tried to tell him, let me live. It didn't listen.

His crimes were chilling. His crimes were bizarre. It's a little creepy to hear. Something like that.

Very creepy. It might just be a scream.

But the most shocking thing of all, it wasn't what he did. I felt so scared for her, for me, for all the women.

But who he was. I just fell off my chair.

We were in that much danger and didn't even know it.

It was January 2009. Brenda Constantine and her husband Brian Rogers and their three teenagers, two boys and a girl,

spent the New Year's holiday the way they always had. A trip out of town and then back to their home in Orleans,

a middle class severed in Canada's capital city Ottawa.

Orleans is the kind of place where the houses are snuck to the street and each other.

It's a very family oriented community, lots of young families still moving into Orleans, lots of kids.

But as you say, in a town which is very safe, Orleans, he particularly safe.

Yeah, there was never a lot of crime.

That January, where Brian and Brenda got their brewed home on a Friday evening.

The family house in Orleans seemed exactly as they left it.

Brian did notice something odd.

The digital clock in the room, I'm always side of the bed, was blinking.

I thought it was kind of unusual, but didn't think much of it, right?

Sure.

And then you went ahead and just continued.

...