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How To Use An Autism Diagnosis To Get Away With Murder

Updated on August 8, 2017
Stephen Sinclair profile image

Stephen Sinclair is a freelance Canadian writer who has been publishing professionally for several years.

A forest, and trees
A forest, and trees | Source

I Was Diagnosed With Autism In 2011, When I Was 39

In 2011, three years after I became aware of two suspicious deaths, both of which have been reported to the police, I was diagnosed with pervasive developmental disorder - not otherwise specified (PDD-NOS). I was born in 1972 and PDD-NOS, a condition that is typically diagnosed in childhood, wasn't recognized as a diagnosis until 1993. I sucked my thumb into my twenties, had intense interests in narrow subjects, and had difficulty with social interaction, as well as suffering from many violent headbanging, autistic fits through my life. Once I became aware of the condition, shortly after pro surfer Clay Marzo was diagnosed, I recognized that I was a candidate for diagnosis too.

To my absolute amazement, after undergoing a thorough evaluation with a doctor, and receiving a written diagnosis, my entire family has refused to even entertain the possibility that I might be autistic. I sucked my thumb until I was 25; this is classic autism. Perhaps if my father was a factory worker, or a cab driver, as I have spent much of my life, I could empathize with his inability to understand autism. However, my father, Donald Sinclair, is a retired math teacher, who taught for over 30 years at Agincourt Collegiate. Further, my sister Sarah Sinclair (AKA Sarah Sharpe, AKA Sarah Orgill), my aunt Joyce Sinclair (AKA Joyce Mullen, AKA Joynce Nilsson), my deceased aunt Margaret Garner, were and are teachers; and my aunt and uncle, Penny and Herb Goldsmith, are the owners of a chain of more than 20 daycare centers located in the Toronto, Ontario area; they all refuse to acknowledge my autism, and instead, have banished me from the family.

I honestly envisioned my mother and father crying with tears of joy, learning about my autism, bringing close to 40 years of uncertainty to an end. I am still reeling from the shock of their rejection of my diagnosis. Ignoring the fact that the disease wasn't recognized until 1993, my mother has argued that she sucked her thumb until she was 12, in 1959, as was not diagnosed, as evidence that "there is nothing wrong with me."

"Time to go check in, Stephen," was what my uncle, Herb Goldsmith, the owner of EduKids, a chain of daycare centers that provides specialized autism services for children, advised. Can anyone help me? Where do autistic people go to check in? A hotel?

I have built a writing career around the first suspicious death I became aware of. I would like to point out that, with both of these deaths, I do not believe that it is certain that either of the individuals were murdered, only that their deaths are suspicious, and that possible perpetrators appeared to have not only physical opportunity, but also significant financial motive. In both cases, and any responsible adult would agree, I was left with no choice but to make full reports to the police. There is a publication ban surrounding the first suspicious death I have written about. I also face unheard-of criminal libel charges for my truthful reporting on the subject. My lawyer, Daniel Baker, and I, expect to challenge to constitutionality of the law this year. If we are successful, it will be struck from Canadian books. Once this process is complete, I will be publishing in detail about it.

The Facts

  • Autistic writer has reported two suspicious deaths to police
  • Charged with unconstitutional criminal libel for reporting on one publicly, after making proper police reports -- currently covered by a publication ban
  • Banished from family of teachers over autism diagnosis
  • Banishment fuels suspicion that grandmother's 2008 death was suspicious

The seashore
The seashore | Source

The Police Report

The second, and final, suspicious death that I am aware of is that of my grandmother, Violet Heck. Here is a copy of the police report:

Dear Durham Regional Police:

I suspect my mother, Pam Sinclair and my aunt, Penelope Goldsmith of murdering my grandmother Violet Rene Heck on May 31, 2008. The following is a link to her obituary:

http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/thestar/obituary.aspx?n=violet-heck&pid=125195729

I will detail the reasons I suspect this:

My grandmother lived in a nursing home on Valley Farm Road. She just happened to keel over and die when she was sitting for dinner with my mother and aunt. I specifically suspect them of poisoning her before the meal.

I had been living with my parents in the months leading up to my grandmother's death. From time to time, she would call and ask for my parents' help with routine tasks. My father is an extremely angry, vindictive and controlling person. When my grandmother called and asked for help my father became extremely angry with my mother and would say things to her like, "Why can't Penny (Penelope) and Herb (my uncle) take care of it?" He would badger my mother constantly in a mean and angry tone of voice often causing my mother to break down in tears. If my mother did murder my grandmother, I am certain my father pressured her to do it.

Further, my father was deeply in debt. My parents regularly traveled around the world and lived well beyond their means. I suspect that Penny and Herb did as well. Both my mother and father regularly spoke about the amount of money my grandmother had and how much they would be getting when she died.

Further, starting when my grandparents (all of them) were in about their sixties and began to become slightly confused with age, my parents and my aunts and uncles regularly said things like, "If I ever get like that, Stephen, shoot me."

Further, after my grandmother entered the nursing home, my mother regularly made statements like, "I hope your grandmother just dies of stroke in her sleep."

Further, my uncle's brother is a police officer in Chatham, Ontario. His name is Doug Goldsmith. My uncle regularly drops his brother's name at any time it is convenient and useful for him to do so. I believe that my uncle Herb fully believes that, as a family member of a police officer, he is above the law. I feel that he believes that he could get away with murder.

Further, when my mother tells the story of my grandmother's passing, she mentions that paramedics came and that she and my aunt requested that they not attempt to resuscitate her. My grandmother was 96 and had Parkinson's diseases. However, I do not believe that my grandmother would have chosen to die. She was extremely strong willed and full of life. She cared for her own father until he was 101 and kept him in her own house. The fact that my parents and my aunt and uncle put her in a nursing home undoubtedly went against everything that she believed in.

I am willing to answer any questions about this situation that you may have.

Is there an ulterior motive behind 'Boppin' at the Glue Factory'?
Is there an ulterior motive behind 'Boppin' at the Glue Factory'? | Source

'Boppin' at the Glue Factory'

As autistic adult, there is no way I could take part in a plot to murder an elderly woman and take her money, nor could I take part in the pyramid schemes my father described my aunt Joyce and other Toronto teachers taking part in. Is it any wonder that I have built a career writing about stock market fraud? The son of a family of Canadian teachers. While my father chose not to take part in my aunt's pyramid schemes because of the risk involved, he never appeared to hold any moral qualms with the seeming frauds he reported my aunt taking part it.

In addition to being a diagnosed autist, with well over one million professionally published words, which my family appears to refuse to acknowledge, I have completed the Canadian Securities Course and am qualified to be employed as an investment adviser in Canada. In the late 90s, before I walked away from the industry in disgust, I worked at the Canadian head offices of Fidelity Investments, E*Trade Canada, and The Royal Bank of Canada.

I am not only qualified to spot and analyze fraud, I among the most knowledgeable people on the subject in Canada, today. Part of my ability to spot fraud comes from my ability, gained through long hours and hard work, not some autistic "gift," to read financial statements and stock charts. My interest in these subjects did not sit well with my family, who, as Ontario teachers, were involved with fraud. If there was anyone in the family who was going to be a stick in the mud about the whole murdering Nana for her inheritance plan, it was going to be me, the autistic.

For my family, who may have just committed murder, my diagnosis couldn't have come at a better time. My parents had two choices, either acknowledge my diagnosis, allow me to continue to be a part of their life, and possibly slip up, showing me evidence that my grandmother had been murdered, or to simply label me as "time to go check in" material, banish me from the family, and spread as many false stories as possible to muddy waters with regard to murder.

Even more bizarre, and shocking, is the fact that my sister is a teacher at New West Charter School in Los Angeles, California. A teacher, who is out in the real world, responsible for students, refuses to acknowledge the written autism diagnosis of her brother, even in the face of additional overwhelming evidence. I believe this is either because my sister, like many teachers and other "professionals," thinks that autism a personality quirk, not a debilitating condition that has resulted in me taking hundreds, if not thousands, of heavy blows to the head, or because she was part of what I suspect was my parents' and aunt and uncle's plan to murder my grandmother and take her money.

Adding to my suspicion that my sister was involved is her apparent second husband, Jeff Orgill's film, Boppin' at the Glue Factory, which follows the tale of a drug-addicted nurse who steals from nursing-home residents. I have written to Mr. Orgill and asked about my sister's involvement with the film, when he met my sister, and learned of my grandmother's death, in relation to when he wrote Boppin' at the Glue Factory, and received no reply. Did Mr. Orgill and my sister produce this film to attempt to paint themselves in a positive light, sympathetic with those who rip off elderly people, as I suspect my parents, aunt, and uncle of doing?

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