Episode 3 | Father Wants Us Dead, season 2: UNCLE PAUL | A true crime podcast series

This podcast contains descriptions of violence to children. Listener discretion is advised. Previously on Father Wants Us Dead Season 2, Uncle Paul. He would tell him, he would say, Paul, you fucked that up. You know, you were supposed to do this. You didn't call this person. Now I got to deal with it. He was just living way beyond his means, way beyond his means. And he was supplementing his income by taking money from the trust fund. He's trying to keep Keith at bay because he doesn't want Keith digging. He doesn't want him digging because when Keith digs, bad things happen for Bocanero. Paul Canero stands silently in the dark outside his brother's mansion. The moon is nearly full in the western sky. The ghostly light peeking through the clouds helps him find his footing as he circles the home around 3 a.m. Paul didn't want it to come to this, but here he is. On the back patio, he steps closer and peers inside the dark house. This part is nearly all windows, giving a wide view of the interior. He doesn't see any movement inside. Paul checks his watch. He cut the power and disabled the generator around 2.50. Now he just needs Keith to notice and then come outside to check why the generator isn't kicking on. At which point, Paul will have him right where he wants him, right in his crosshairs. Paul pulls his black scarf up around his face against the cold November morning, an expensive one from Brooks Brothers. Tonight, he wanted to keep his face at least partially hidden. Hours earlier, on November 19th, his little brother had finally discovered that tens of thousands of dollars had gone missing. He had to act before Keith realized he'd been forging bank records. Yes, Paul needed that money to hide from his family that they were going broke. But also, Keith had so much. This mansion in Colts Neck, a vacation home in Greece, an expensive Ivy League degree. Jealousy can do awful things to brothers. Like Kane, Paul Canero was luring his brother out to the field to strike him down. Paul had put the plan in motion around 1.30 a.m., killing the security cameras at his house, grabbing gloves, bullets, and a Sig Sauer P228. An hour later, he was stashing his SUV off the road not far from Keith's house, limping through the dark toward the generator. He'd have to eliminate his little brother first. He didn't want to face Keith head-on, he was strong as an ox from his mornings in the gym. And so, Paul Canero waits with his loaded 9mm outside 15 Willowbrook Road. The moon that lent him light was inching toward the western horizon with every passing minute. There was no stopping it. No stopping him. I'm Rebecca Everett, and this is Father Wants Us Dead Season 2, Uncle Paul, from NJ.com and The Star Ledger. We don't know if Paul was in his right mind that night. It's hard to imagine, because how could anyone in their right mind conceive of this plan, truly contemplate the horror ahead, and then go forward? But he did, step by step. Only Paul Canero knows exactly what happened that night, what went according to his cruel plan, and when things went off the rails. Paul took out each witness to his killing spree, one by one. He's the only one still carrying the story of that night. But there are parts of the story that can be pieced together. What you're about to hear is an account of the murders that we've pieced together as best we can from the evidence collected and the conclusions of the detectives, prosecutors, our own experts, and the judge in this case. It's as close as we can get. And you'll hear a bit from the assistant prosecutors, Nicole Wallace and Chris Decker. It will be disturbing. This was extreme violence to innocent victims, including children. Please take care while listening. On the last afternoon of his life, Keith Canero is fuming. He's just learned that again, his brother Paul, the trustee on Keith's life insurance trust, has not been paying the premiums. So where has that money been going? There is no way it was a mistake. This was theft. Paul was stealing from him. Keith grabs his cell phone and calls his brother. He tries to keep his cool, asking him where the payments are. I need to know where they're going. I need you to wake up Paul and do it. We have this recording of these phone calls because Keith had security cameras always rolling in his kitchen and office. Cameras that captured only his side of this confrontation. On the phone, Keith tries to sound like he's asking, not accusing. Asking for access to the TD bank account. Where the money used to pay the premiums should be. He listens as Paul gives him nothing but excuses. He doesn't know the account login. He has a migraine. He's sleeping. He can't do this now. Keith checks his temper. Waits a few hours. But at 6pm, he's calling Paul again. Short of you being dead, I need to see this stuff. Give me the login to your account, then. Give me the login to the TD account. He starts slamming his hand down on the desk when he can't listen to Paul's bullshit anymore. I need to see it now, Paul. Paul, I'm telling you, I need it. I need it. I need it. Give me the ******* login, Paul. Paul, just give me the login so I can see where the money went. But then he realizes Paul is crying. Keith softens a little bit, decides to give his big brother a deadline. Keith watches 8 o'clock come and go. He fires off an email to the office, cutting off Paul's salary. His accountant tells him to relax. We'll deal with this in the morning. So Keith tries to move on with his night. Jen's mom is over for dinner. They baked some cookies. Sophia just loves to bake. His daughter's voice is raspy, though. Her mom thinks she has strep. All right. Jen's mom leaves. They get the kids to bed. Sophia in her playhouse loft. Jesse snoozing under his World War II posters. In bed with Jen, Keith is finally able to drift off to sleep. Maybe thinking about that job interview in the morning. And the promise of being able to turn the page on all of this chaos. Around 3 a.m., Keith Canaro's eyes snap open, and he looks around his bedroom, feeling that something is wrong. He realizes he's surrounded by the strange sensory deprivation silence of a power outage. Why had the power gone out? It isn't stormy. And even stranger. Why isn't the generator kicking on? He'd paid thousands for this thing. It was just serviced two weeks ago. So why wasn't it working? So Keith leaves Jen in their king-sized bed, pads down the hall and down the two flights of stairs to the basement. He fumbles with the breaker box, tries resetting it, but nothing happens. His next move is automatic, instinctive. He starts typing a text to Paul. Paul has always been the more handy one. Paul would know what to do. He always does. The missing money, the fight on the phone, they don't even cross Keith's mind. He just needs help from the guy who always helped him. At 3 15 a.m he hits send. Here's an actor reading the text messages. My power is totally out at home. Total AC failure. I use the manual switch in the basement but nothing is working. Two minutes later he texts Paul again. I'm not even sure what to do. Finally, Keith gives up on waiting for his brother. It's in the 40s tonight, and the house is starting to get cold. He's going to have to go outside. He goes back up to the master bedroom and gets dressed in the blackness. After pulling on navy sweatpants and a black jacket, Keith flips up his hood against the cold night. He leaves Jen in their bed. And at 3.18 a.m., Keith Canero sends his final message. Going outside to see if the generator is in the right mode. Keith has no idea that his brother isn't seeing his text messages. Paul had left his phone at home. Pulling open his front door, Keith has no idea he's about to encounter his brother in person as he steps right into the trap Paul set for him. He walks across the driveway and onto the lawn, skirting around the garage toward the generator out back. Did he hear a sound? An exhalation of breath? Or a body shifting slightly in the darkness? Or was there nothing but silence? Either way, Keith Canero does not see this coming. One bullet whizzes by him and hits the grass. Another catches him in the lower back with a searing jolt. Keith falls forward as another bullet and another and another are fired off in quick succession. These three shots fired from behind him hit him in the head. He is likely already dead when his big brother approaches, but Paul Canero is still not finished. Very calmly placed a gun to the back side of his hooded head and pulled that trigger one last time. A coup de grâce fired into the brother he'd come to see as his enemy. I can always imagine that Jen woke up, groggy and disoriented, when Keith was heading out to check the generator, but then drifted back to sleep. That's what I would have done. But then I wonder if she startled awake to the gunshots, confused and terrified. Did she know they were gunshots? Did she roll over in their big bed to ask Keith, what was that? But instead of her husband's arms there to comfort her, it was just the cold sheet. Jennifer's heart is pounding as she rushes and bare feet down the hall to the stairs. She doesn't understand what's happening, the gunshots, but she is full of dread. Keith is out there. Something terrifying is unfolding. As she goes down the stairs, she looks out the windows into the front yard. She can't see her husband. She can't see anything. But then, in the foyer, her blood runs cold. An intruder has entered her home. A nearly six foot tall man with his face partly covered and surgical gloves on his hands. He's holding a gun. And in there, in the chaos and confusion of having been awoken from sleep, in the shock and terror of having their home invaded, and in the dark, the defendant hunted them down. None of this makes sense. She knows the shape of her brother-in-law, even in silhouette, knows his limp. Paul is here. Why is Paul here? Why is his face covered by a scarf? And why is he raising his gun at her? It happens in an instant. She sees the muzzle flash as Paul Canero fires straight at her head. Her body arcs backward and falls onto the stairs to the basement. She doesn't have a chance to defend her children against this monster, this unrelenting monster. But it's a shallow gunshot wound, so Paul goes to the kitchen, pulls a seven-and-a-half-inch knife from the knife block, and continues attacking Jennifer, stabbing her repeatedly in the back and the front until her heart stops. And still, he's not finished. There are other witnesses to eliminate. Two more heirs who stood between Paul and the family fortune that could end his money problems, Sophia and Jesse. The children who likely witnessed their mother's death in these hellish moments, in this house filled with the sounds of panic and bedlam. Sophia, frozen in fear, doesn't know what to do. Before, if she woke from a nightmare, she could always run to mom and dad's bed. Snuggle in for comfort and safety. They would tell her, it was just a dream, honey. Go back to sleep. But this isn't just a dream. She and her brother were pulled from their beds by real gunshots. And the man they see as they descend the curved stairwell is a real-life boogeyman. A bad guy. Except he isn't a stranger. Sophia sees it's Uncle Paul. But Uncle Paul isn't a bad guy. He's the guy who jumps in the pool when she needs a buddy to swim with. She sat on his lap at birthday parties to help blow out the candles. He's supposed to cook Thanksgiving dinner in a few days, like he does every year. But now Uncle Paul is standing there, towering over her and Jessie, holding a gun and a knife. They need to escape. There was a pursuit. The children were wounded and they were being chased. Sophia and Jesse run. At some point, Paul's knife cuts her, and she leaves bloody fingerprints as they flee through the kitchen. Past the fridge decorated with the drawings they made at school, along one side of the island, cluttered with dishes and the purple unicorn Sophia left there hours earlier, there is an ear-splitting sound. Jesse's been shot. But the bullet only grazes his chin, and her bleeding brother keeps running. Uncle Paul finally catches Jesse on the other side of the kitchen island, against the cabinets lining the wall. Jesse holds out his arms, trying to defend himself against the barrage of knife strikes from a man more than twice his weight. The man who built model ships with him and shares his love of history. The man he chose to bring to show and tell in preschool as someone special in his life. He stabbed his nephew Jesse multiple times in his upper body and threw his arm into his chest. Sophia's brother is left in a pool of blood on the floor. We'll never know why or how it happened, but the bloodstains left behind there are Sophia's too. Sophia was in the kitchen also, maybe trying to help her brother. Or simply fleeing for her life. Or maybe it's the reverse. Maybe their uncle caught Sophia first in the kitchen, knocked her down on her bruised knees, and maybe Jesse dove in to save her and paid with his life. But either way, Sophia gets away, escaping at least for a moment from the savage killer in bloodstained jeans. She is running up the stairs, still bleeding, when Uncle Paul catches her. That little eight-year-old, 45-pound girl fought for her life against a 200-pound grown man wielding a knife. Sophia fights back with all the strength in her skinny arms and legs, kicking out at him. But he's so much bigger, aiming the knife for her head and torso. He even takes off his black scarf and wraps it around the knife, trying to get a better grip as he brings the blade down again and again. Then everything is quiet in the dark house. Paul Canero drops the black-handled weapon to the floor. It's taken him roughly 15 minutes to murder his brother's whole family. Paul Canero, his clothes and gloves soaked in blood, kindled a small fire in the basement closet of his brother's home. He actually may have had experience setting fires in closets. A decade earlier, in his own home, firefighters had put out a blaze in the closet of his master bedroom. The fire was suspicious, but no charges were filed, and his insurance company paid out $26,000. But now, in his brother's home, at 3.42 a.m., a new fire is starting to catch. Paul Canero is commencing the cover-up. First, he sets that fire. It's designed to burn slowly, very slowly. He wants as much evidence destroyed as possible before any neighbors might spot smoke and call 911. Next, Paul cuts the fiber optic line in the corner, added insurance to make sure the hardwired fire alarm doesn't go off and alert authorities. Finally, a little before 4 a.m., he gets back into his SUV and returns home. I've pictured this, him behind the wheel, after the murders, countless times. Sometimes I see him just driving devoid of emotion, like it's any normal day. But I can also picture him wide-eyed, shaking, maybe even crying, sitting there soaked in his nephew and niece's blood. I told this to Dr. Robert Hanlon, a forensic neuropsychologist at Northwestern. He said it wouldn't surprise him if Paul Canero felt very little as he slaughtered Jen, Jesse, and Sophia. Keith was likely the emotional one for him. And that's where the emotion lay. That's where the revenge was derived. The others then, and I'm completely speculating about this, they're not really so emotional. That's more of an intellectual disposing of complicating factors let's say Paul arrived home around 4.07, two hours after he'd left. He tried to stick to his plan, be meticulous, but his concentration was slipping. He was making mistakes. Dr. Hanlon said the psychological toll of murdering four close relatives will do that. He knew enough to switch the barrels on his handgun in case police came looking for ballistics evidence. He sealed the barrel he'd used in a Ziploc bag and stowed it in his backpack so he could dispose of it elsewhere. He also needed a backup plan in case he had to make a run for it. He threw a few more things in the go bag. His passport, his laptop, a SIM card, a knife, and savings bonds belonging to his daughters. But he still needed to deal with his biggest mistake of all, wearing his blood-soaked clothes home. This hadn't been part of the original plan. He had imagined a quick and easy job. Four executions with just a handful of bullets. So why did he even grab the knife when he'd had a gun? Something happened to make these murders so savage and cruel and drawn out. My co-worker Kevin Shea and I have talked it over a lot. Maybe the gun jammed. Maybe he was trying to reload, drop some bullets here and there. Yeah, and I think about that one unspent bullet that they found on the back patio. Right. Like, he's dropping bullets. He might just not have enough. Maybe he was concerned about the sound. Maybe it echoed. Maybe he was like, oh my god, that's loud. And then maybe he... Right. So Dr. Hanlon said there was most likely a practical reason. But it is possible he reached for the blade because the rage against Keith was still coursing through him. It may very well have displaced the anger and resentment and revenge that he was experiencing about his brother to the children and the spouse. But we should also be clear about something here. We don't actually know for sure whether Paul intended to kill the whole family. Maybe he shot Keith as revenge, but someone witnessed it and he decided to eliminate them all. But the assistant prosecutors, they do believe Paul intended to kill Jen and the kids, that he was seeing the future he could have when no one stood between him and Keith's money. Kevin's always wondered if Paul had just entered into some kind of dissociative state that night, almost like a robot. Here's us driving in Colts Neck. So, like, the only thing I can think of is that while he's committing the murders, he's just, it is methodical. Maybe it was just more like, go in the house, another victim. You know, and clearly he had to physically struggle with some of the victims. Yeah. He might have been doing it while not safe. It's so scary. You know, like, he could have been doing it with... Like a disconnect. Yeah. Back at his house, Paul needed to dispose of his DNA-soaked clothes. He hadn't done the obvious thing and ditched them in the woods on his way home. So he turned to the same tool he'd used before, fire. He took off his clothing, including his bloodstained jeans and his bloody black nitrile gloves. He put them all in a pile in his basement underneath the window well. And then he went outside around back to that basement window well, just above where that pile was. And he started a fire there too. A fire right by the gas line. If his luck held, it would destroy those bloody clothes, and it would make it look like someone targeted both Canero brothers. But Paul Canero simply wasn't the methodical mastermind he'd set out to be. He was losing his edge, starting to panic, as his mind raced through the next steps. Instead of setting just one fire, he set two. Inexplicably, Paul sprayed gas on that sports car in the driveway and lit it. But all it produced was a few scorch marks and a tiny smoldering fire on the ground. And with every passing second, his own family was in increasing danger. Running inside the smoky house, alarms blaring, Paul woke his family. Trying to act as surprised as they were, here's Katie Canero testifying. And when I went down the stairs, I was about halfway down, I heard a bang. And my dad screamed, **** my hand. Paul did have an injury on the back of his hand that morning. I've seen photos, and it's a circular, swollen bruise about two inches across, with a small gouge or cut in the center. Maybe this was part of Paul's fumbling panic. He told a firefighter he hit it on the door as he was rushing out of the burning house. But maybe he actually hurt himself during the violent struggles with his relatives in Colts Neck. If this was just a cover story, then it means he'd thought this out enough to swear about it in front of his daughter, so she could back him up. Here, I have to warn you. This story gets worse again. That's how it is. Just when you think it's taken us to the lowest circle of hell, it goes deeper. Because while Paul was in Ocean Township, lighting his own house on fire, back in Colts Neck, the nightmare was still unfolding. The children were somehow still alive. As the house slowly filled with smoke, as the basement fire grew with no fire alarms to alert anyone, despite the dozens of stab wounds, they were still breathing. I've told myself many times they were probably unconscious. I have to think that. I can't imagine the alternative. Their autopsy reports are horrific. Jesse died from his injuries, but smoke inhalation was a factor too. In Sophia's case, the smoke inhalation was severe. It was listed as her cause of death along with her injuries. I don't think there are any words to capture how awful this is, but I can say that the state medical examiner who performed Sophia's autopsy, Dr. Alex Zhang, actually looked like he was struggling to keep his composure when he testified about this. I've never seen that before in any courtroom. He testified about every stab wound on Sophia's body. But it was only this moment, when he had to explain that she was still alive, inhaling the smoke, that he seemed like he almost couldn't finish. He dropped his hand to the stand, and his face fell. Indicate that person was stabbed several times. Then leave the body. He went very quiet, like he was depleted, and couldn't bear to spend even one more second talking about this. Your aunt wasn't suffering from any natural diseases that would have contributed to her death, correct? The next morning, while the Canero family lay dead, emails were going unread in Keith Canero's inbox. Emails checking on him, since he'd missed that job interview. A job abroad that might have been his ticket to a whole new life. And at school, Asher and Ripley Burgess were wondering why their best friends, Jesse and Sophia, weren't there that day. Here's Ripley. She was eight at the time. So I waited for her like at the monkey bars at recess because we would always meet up there. Their mom, Courtney, learned the news through an acquaintance who was a firefighter. As the school bus dropped her kids off at home, she had no idea how to tell them. I remember asking them both if it was just interview or class, even though I knew. I don't know if I thought by a miracle that I was dreaming or it was wrong. Ripley asked her mom what was up, why they'd canceled their evening plans. And then she started crying, and I just froze. I got scared, and I ran upstairs. They all sat down on the bedroom floor. Courtney and her husband tried to tell the children their best friends were dead. I kept on looking at my brother's face, and his face was just in shock. And he kept on asking, is this a joke? Is this a joke? And then my dad finally said we would never joke about this, and that's when I could see a moment of realization set in for me, and it definitely set in for Asher, too. Paul Canero spent that entire day in the Ocean Township Police Station. After giving statements about their house fire, his family had been allowed to leave. But he was still there, exhausted and disheveled. He had exercised his right not to speak with police about the fire at his home, so there was no reason for the cops to play nice anymore. They charged him with arson, accusing him of lighting his own home ablaze. But at that point, there was nowhere near enough evidence to lock him up for the murders of Keith, Jen, Jesse, and Sophia. And Paul was determined to keep it that way. In Colts Neck, he'd done everything he could to leave no evidence. He wanted the fire to burn it all away. It was the final part of the plan, getting away with it. Getting to bail himself out of his financial hole with Keith's life insurance. Getting control of the companies he felt he deserved. And maybe getting to live in a world where he wasn't the second best Canero brother. But he's not done. There's still one more member of the Canero clan he's about to betray. Hello, this is Kevin. Hey, how was the trial today? Uh, it was wild. Um, did you know there was a third Canero brother? I did, for the record. Corey, the youngest Canaro brother. So the defense is arguing that Corey could have done it. That's next time on Season 2 of Father Wants Us Dead. Uncle Paul. This is a Global Telelink prepaid call from... Paul Canero. I know things have been crazy For another session, the Honorable Judge Mark Lemieux presiding. Morning, please. Morning. It's like, you know, here we are. We're deciding the fate of Paul Canaro. Father Wants Us Dead is a production of NJ.com. You can visit fatherwantsusdead.com for photos, surveillance and body cam videos, and other extras. You can email any questions and comments to inbox at fatherwantsusdead.com. This series is reported and written by me, Rebecca Everett, with additional reporting by Kevin Shea. Our executive producers are Chris Kelly, Jess Mazzola, Jeff Roberts, and Jessica Beam. The podcast is recorded and mixed by Alex Graves at Sound on Sound Studios in Montclair, New Jersey. James Shapiro is our associate audio engineer. Music is by Jacob Stone. Sound effects are from Triple Scoop Music. Your support makes this kind of in-depth local reporting possible. Consider subscribing to NJ.com or your local news site. Follow Father Wants Us Dead wherever you get podcasts. And if you're enjoying our latest season, Uncle Paul, please rate and review it and help us spread the word.