The Final Hour of Constable Campbell: A Charming Night Out Turns Lethal

Katherine Campbell was the embodiment of the community she served. As a respected constable with the Truro Police Department in Nova Scotia, the 36-year-old was known for her unwavering reliability and dedication. She was the person who always checked in, the officer who never missed a shift, and the daughter who stayed close to her family. On the evening of September 10, 2015, Catherine finished a grueling patrol shift, drove back to her Dartmouth apartment, and decided to shed her uniform for the night. She wanted to be just “Catherine”—a woman enjoying a night out in the vibrant downtown core of Halifax.

Across town, 27-year-old Christopher Garnier was in the midst of a personal tailspin. Recently laid off from his job as a paramedic and reeling from a bitter breakup with his girlfriend, Garnier was drinking heavily and simmering with a quiet, dangerous resentment. He was a man trained in the delicate arts of human anatomy and emergency medicine, someone who knew exactly how much pressure it took to sustain a life—and, tragically, exactly how much it took to end one. When Catherine walked into the Halifax Ale House that night, she saw a charming stranger. She had no way of knowing she had just met her executioner.

The Dance Floor and the Disappearing Act

Witnesses at the Halifax Ale House would later describe a scene of intense flirtation. Catherine and Christopher weren’t just talking; they were inseparable, dancing closely and kissing as the music pulsed around them. Surveillance cameras caught the beginning of the end: Catherine laughing and relaxed, Garnier watching her with a predatory, intense focus. By all accounts, they were two consenting adults heading toward a late-night hookup. At 3:15 a.m., they walked out into the cool night air and hailed a taxi together.

The taxi driver would later provide investigators with a chilling detail. As he drove them to an apartment on McCully Street, he felt a strange, inexplicable tension in the backseat. Despite the outward appearance of a casual romantic encounter, something in the air didn’t feel right. He dropped them off at 3:30 a.m. and drove away, unwittingly delivering Catherine Campbell to her death. Inside the apartment—which belonged to a friend of Garnier’s who was out for the night—the two were completely alone. The window for a “pleasant encounter” was about to slam shut.

Forty-Five Minutes of Pure Evil

What happened between 3:30 a.m. and 4:15 a.m. is a nightmare reconstructed through forensic science and a fractured confession. The apartment den was small, featuring a pull-out bed and a television. At some point, the mood shifted from flirtatious to fatal. Christopher Garnier, utilizing the physical strength of a former bar bouncer and the anatomical knowledge of a paramedic, attacked Catherine.

The violence was explosive. Garnier punched Catherine in the face with enough force to fracture her nose and blacken both eyes. As she tried to fight back, he pinned her down and placed his hands around her throat. He squeezed until she could no longer breathe, until she could no longer scream, and until her body went limp. He didn’t stop once she lost consciousness; he held on until he was certain the light had left her eyes. Forensic teams would later find blood spatter on the Xbox, the back of the television, and the handles of a cupboard where cleaning supplies were kept—silent witnesses to a desperate struggle and a rapid attempt to erase the evidence.

The Green Bin Journey: Downtown Halifax’s Darkest Morning

At 4:00 a.m., the surveillance cameras in the neighborhood captured a sight that would eventually haunt the entire province. Christopher Garnier emerged from the apartment building, walked to a cluster of trash receptacles, and selected a large green compost bin. He wheeled it back inside, and moments later, he reappeared, struggling with the bin’s newfound weight.

Inside that bin, Catherine Campbell’s body had been callously stuffed, wrapped in the very mattress where she had been murdered. For several blocks through downtown Halifax, Garnier pulled the bin toward the McDonald Bridge. He passed a garbage truck and even made eye contact with a man heading to work early, who later noted that Garnier looked “weird” and “off.” Near an overpass by the Halifax Harbor, Garnier dumped Catherine’s remains into a patch of thick brush, covered her with a large wooden box, and tossed her keys into a nearby trash can. He then abandoned the empty bin in a different location, returned to the apartment, cleaned the blood from the floors, and lay down on the couch to sleep.

The Weekend of Normalcy: A Killer’s Cold Calculation

When Garnier’s friend Mitchell returned to the apartment at 9:00 a.m., he found Christopher asleep on the couch. Noticing the missing mattress from the den, Mitchell asked what had happened. With a staggering lack of emotion, Garnier claimed he had gotten sick during the night, vomited on the mattress, and thrown it out to spare Mitchell the cleanup. He even promised to buy a new one.

For the next three days, Garnier lived a life of total normalcy. He reconciled with his girlfriend, Britney, and moved back into her home. He attended his father’s birthday party on Sunday, where guests described him as his “usual self”—laughing, smiling, and showing zero signs of psychological distress. He had sex with his girlfriend multiple times that weekend, all while Catherine Campbell’s body lay hidden under a bridge, and her colleagues at the Truro Police Department began to panic over her unprecedented disappearance.

The Arrest and the Inventory of Flight

Catherine was reported missing on Monday, September 14, after failing to show up for work. By Tuesday, five days after the Ale House encounter, her body was discovered. Within an hour of the find, Halifax Regional Police intercepted Christopher Garnier while he was driving. The contents of his vehicle suggested he knew the clock had run out.

Inside the car, police found a “flight kit”: a tarp, rope, a half-full gas can, his passport, and a backpack stuffed with six pairs of underwear, toiletries, and multiple changes of clothing. It was the inventory of a man preparing to either burn the evidence or flee the country. When investigators searched Mitchell’s apartment, the “clean” floors revealed their secrets under forensic lights. Blood matching Catherine’s DNA was found in every corner of the den, proving that the paramedic had transformed a sanctuary of healing into a site of slaughter.

Interrogation: The Memory Loss Defense

For nine and a half hours, Christopher Garnier sat in a small room across from seasoned detectives. His primary defense was a repetitive, hollow claim: “I don’t remember.” He suggested that alcohol or anti-depressants had caused a total blackout. However, his computer search history told a different story; he had been researching “memory loss due to medication” after the murder, a calculated attempt to build a legal defense before he was even in handcuffs.

Under relentless pressure, Garnier’s facade cracked. He admitted that Catherine was dead when he put her in the bin. “She wasn’t breathing,” he told the detective. He knew this, he said, because of his medical training. He admitted to considering going back with the gasoline to burn her body. He eventually wrote a letter to Catherine’s family expressing “remorse,” claiming he was a “caring person” caught in a “dark moment.” But the letter rang false to everyone who knew he had spent the days after the murder laughing at a birthday party and sleeping soundly.

The “Rough Sex” Defense and the PTSD Controversy

The legal battle that followed was a grueling exercise in victim-blaming. Despite his confession and the overwhelming forensic evidence, Garnier pleaded not guilty to second-degree murder. His defense team argued that Catherine’s death was a tragic accident during “consensual rough sex.” They claimed she had requested to be choked and that her injuries—the broken nose and blackened eyes—were part of the “play.” They even argued that as a police officer, she would have been able to overpower him if she truly wanted the encounter to stop.

Furthermore, Garnier’s defense made the audacious claim that he was suffering from PTSD caused by the act of killing Catherine. They argued he was in a dissociative state and couldn’t be held fully responsible for his actions. His father wrote to the judge describing Christopher’s “night terrors” and “suffering.” The implication was clear: the man who strangled a woman and wheeled her through the streets in a trash bin was the “real” victim of the trauma.

The Verdict and a Taxpayer-Funded Outrage

The jury was not swayed by the defense’s attempt to pathologize a killer. In December 2017, Christopher Garnier was found guilty of second-degree murder and indignity to a human body. He was sentenced to life in prison with no parole eligibility for 13.5 years. However, the story took a final, bitter turn for the public.

It was revealed that Canadian taxpayers were funding Garnier’s mental health treatment for his “murder-induced PTSD” through Veterans Affairs Canada. Because his father was a veteran, Garnier was eligible for benefits. The news that a man who murdered a police officer was receiving benefits meant for combat veterans sparked a national outcry. Despite a motion in the House of Commons to revoke the funding, the bureaucracy held firm, protecting the killer’s access to elite mental health resources.

A Legacy of Service vs. A Legacy of Shame

Today, Christopher Garnier remains in a federal penitentiary. Catherine Campbell’s family is left with a hole in their lives that no verdict can fill. The case remains a stark reminder of how quickly a “normal” night can transform into a tragedy. Catherine died because she made the simple choice to enjoy a night off; Christopher Garnier is in prison because he chose to use his knowledge of the human body to destroy a life rather than save one.

Constable Campbell is remembered for her six years of service, her volunteer work as a firefighter, and her dedication to the Truro community. Garnier will be remembered as the man who wheeled a hero through the streets of Halifax in a compost bin. The surveillance cameras caught the journey, but the true measure of the tragedy lies in the 45 minutes of silence inside an apartment where a protector of the peace met an absolute predator.