Dear Mr Anthony James McKimm, residing in Nanaimo, British Columbia, Canada:

To recap, several weeks ago you promised to tell me what you did to end up in prison 20 years ago. You looked me in the eye and swore you would tell me the crime which got you onto a 20-year registered sexual offender list.

Obviously as the father of the potential victims I am completely against ever again meeting face to face, or engaging in conversation with you.

I sent you a message last night giving you one final opportunity to honour your promise and tell the story with no conversation before I write my own story. Ironically you responded with a question - a conversation starter. I suppose you only know how to play by your own rules.

What kind of story will I tell, you asked?

Very good question! Let me tell you my story...

My kids will one day ask what happened the day the police suddenly showed up at their door with a government representative. They will ask why their step-father who they lived with for years suddenly left their lives that day, never to return. They loved him, they loved their step sister, they were very happy with their lives. Why was stepdad forced to leave?

They will ask why they had to console their quietly sobbing mother for days on end, three grieving people huddled together in a dark and suddenly lonely house.

When they ask I will tell them the way I see things with the facts I have, where I could have told them the way I saw things after I understood your story better. It was up to you.

The ministry of children and family has concluded their investigation. My family has concluded our investigation. All parties agree that those young girls show no signs of having been sexually abused. We all feel very lucky to have dodged a bullet.

Although you promised to tell me your side of things only you know what version of the story would have panned out better. Maybe that's why you've been silent. I honestly have no clue why you won't just tell your story and be done with it, but silence suits you poorly. Something to the effect of this would have made a big difference several weeks ago:

"Yeah I fucked around with my first wife's 7 year old daughter... it was wrong, I was in a messed up place, I went to prison and it changed me, I regret my actions, and I never would have hurt your children. I should have told their mother my history before I pursued a serious relationship, before I moved in"

You know my family wants closure. I have been asked to hear what you have to say. To be custodian of that horrible information in case my daughters ever ask. You committed to telling your story, and evaded your absolute last chance before that door closed. I wanted this all to be done. I wanted to move forward without this stupid little loose end in my life. Now I must tie it all together with the facts on-hand, and with the actions I've seen.

What have I seen from you?

I've seen evasiveness. I've seen lies and betrayal and supreme selfishness. I see a weasel with a criminal record of sexual assault against minors who lied his way into a committed relationship with a mother of a 7-year old girl and a 5-year old girl. A man who was once surrounded by children as an early child educator. I see a man who learned from his mistakes and is up to his old tricks with a better plan. A pedo who found twice as many victims.

After you were forced to leave that household under the watchful eye of the ministry of children and family, we had to move your shit out of the house. Your entire life's accumulation.

I called a buddy and over the course of the next few hours we moved thousands of pounds of video cassettes, camcorders, old computers, film reels, hard drives, SD cards, and recording devices. Aside from 12 accordions, a box of flutes, and a ball gag, it seems that film equipment makes up the bulk of your worldly possessions.

Tony McKimm is a man who is obsessed with video footage. You appear to have held on to every single second of video you've ever had in your possession. You're a man who has carted this video footage with him all his life. Who's saved every piece of junk 8mm, VHS, film reel, hard drive, SD card he's ever owned. A man who built a "business" around other people's footage. One who receives nondescript packages from who knows where, full of hard drives SD cards, VHS tapes with who knows what footage within. I see a man with every class of video recording device ever made who put himself into a place of responsibility over two young girls. A man who became full time caregiver, putting them to bed and giving them baths, and teaching them about new things.

Who knows what you recorded when no other adults were around, when the young girls were simply being young girls playing together at bath time? Or when they ran around naked shouting "NUDIEGIRL!" as they have been known to do after a bath. Who knows where that footage might have ended up, or who it was shared with, or what money was exchanged for it?

I see a man who got extremely nervous when a nondescript box of SD cards was missing from a huge pile of his most important possessions at handover. Where was this box? Was it with all the other important things at his computer desk in his bedroom where he spent all his time? Nope! It was apparently tucked into some dust filled 100-year old desk in the basement that's been there as long as the foundation. A desk that obviously is ignored and neglected. A hidey hole.

Gotta admit, I didn't clue in when we were face to face and you nervously asked for your brother to go into the house you had been banished from to get a little box from the desk in the basement... but the way you messaged me multiple times and took the time to describe everything and send pictures this little box was super important to you. What the fuck was so important about this hidden box?

Once the lightbulb went off in my mind I knew exactly what you were and what you were up to. Man I wish I found that box. It would have been very interesting to see what was on those SD cards.

I wear my heart on my sleeve. I'm not one to keep my feelings inside and I don't hide my life problems. As a matter of fact when I'm bothered about something I'll tell anyone who will listen... I vent, I think out loud, I hear their perspective, get their feedback, and almost always feel better about things after just a couple of conversations.

Not this time!

I spoke with my wife about everything and she grew extremely concerned. I spoke with the mother of the kids - your former spouse; her skin crawled. I spoke with my best friends, my mom, my colleagues. I didn't omit, I didn't lie, just the facts. No one said "It's probably ok". Most asked how I managed to stand face to face with you the day you picked up your things. They asked how I didn't punch you that day.

I spoke with strangers on the bus and at the park, I spoke with literally anyone who would listen. The more people I spoke with I became more certain. Everyone came to one conclusion of what type of man you are, and what you were up to. I even found myself on multiple occasions actually talking people out of hunting you down!

Seriously my man... I was actually put in the tough situation of telling multiple people not to harm the pedophile videophile who had been alone with my children for 30 hours a week.

Count your lucky stars that I trust in karma!

You will receive no threats from me - I wish you no harm, but this story is so powerful that people are willing to risk a murder conviction because it naturally infuriates people to hear about your actions. One dude, one of my many police buddies, actually said... "I wish those people could change their way of thinking, but you and I both know that the only thing that can fix their thinking is a 30-cent piece of lead."

The fact is that I don't know how you think. I've tried for several weeks to let you make your case, to shape the narrative. You had ample opportunity to give us all some better perspective than what we have now. Talking would have definitely helped your case, no matter your crime. It would remove the part of my story where I tell people "the guy wouldn't even come clean about why he ended up behind a barbed-wire fence".

Silence is fine - I'm already pretty sure I know what's what. You were literally the only person who had any chance of influencing my opinion... everyone else comes to my exact same conclusion 100% of the time.

Now I'm going to have to make something very clear before you get radio silence from me and my kin. I don't think you are a violent man. I think you are sick and broken, but you're as harmless as the next guy so long as children aren't involved.

Criminals don't like people to know what they're up to, and who knows what you're actually capable of. If *everyone* is correct in believing that Anthony James McKimm is a pedophiliac child-porn distributor and producer, then I've put myself at risk by telling this story far and wide. You know everything about us. Where we live, where the kids play, where they go to school, where they are most vulnerable.

You need to know that the police are aware of the facts, the ministry is aware of the facts, and quite a few unscrupulous characters are aware of the facts.

There are people out there who I have talked out of hunting you down. People who I've had to ask to stop verbalizing what they wanted to do to you because it was too disturbing to hear. Don't you worry - you are currently safe from those people; no one is coming. However...

One of these people is a bit of a hound-dog though and did a bit of freelancing without me knowing. All he asked for was your name, and the very next week he reached out to say he had an insurance policy for me. He swears up and down that if anything happens to any one of my immediate family... he has your number. I've told him to leave you alone, call off his "buddies", and stop tracking you; and I'm pretty sure he's obliged. But know that he's out there and has made it clear to me that if any of the major characters in this story were to die of any cause other than old age... you will breathe your last breath with your testicles in your mouth (not my words). Anyway I don't want to focus on the fucked up thoughts of criminals, be they pedos or murderers.

All I want is to close this chapter and start a new book. I want my family to be safe and happy. As far as I'm concerned we're well along that path.

Mr Anthony McKimm, we are very grateful that you were dumb enough to update your address with the government (after living there for over a year, I must add) despite being on a 20-year child offender registry. Maybe you thought the 20 years was up and your scheme would go under the radar... in which case we're grateful that you don't know how to measure time.

I'm just glad the system actually worked this time and caught you in a situation where you shouldn't have been. When I worked with the RCMP I can't tell you how many times the system failed families. Gotta say - I'm never going to complain about paying taxes again. Thank you Government of Canada!

Enough time has passed that you will be off the registry soon. Next time you update your address the government will not come knocking. The family you find will not know any better. I doubt the mother will ask you for a criminal record check.

Of course my family didn't inheritantly trust you at first to take care of those kids without doing our research. As a former private investigator I did my due diligence when you came into the picture and found nothing concerning. I'm leaving your next potential victims something to find. Google will forever know that Anthony James McKimm is a convicted felon.

Why the government couldn't make your name public from the beginning was a failure of our legal system. I, however, don't owe you the same privacy. This is my story to tell. Go ahead and change your name... it's an easy update to make from my side. I vow to do whatever is in my rights to save another child from your sickly predilections.

I have no expectations of honour from felons, and didn't believe that you would have the spine to make your case. Your promise was a loose-end I pursued only because I made my own promise to your former spouse. I truly don't want to know what you did to that kid 20 years ago, but if it's anything better than the worst case that one would naturally presume.... you probably would have said so.

This brings me to the short answer for your conversation-starting question:

What kind of story will I tell, you ask? A story about a monster.

The Vancouver Island sex-offender named Anthony James McKimm.

With regards,

An Enraged Father