The Trials of Jennifer Pan and Her Co-Accused

It was a Monday night in November. The kind of night when the streets of Markham, Ontario — a quiet suburb northeast of Toronto, full of tidy homes and minivans and families who came from somewhere else to build something better — are dark and still by ten o'clock.

Inside the house at Helen Avenue, Bich Ha Pan had just come home from her weekly line-dancing class. She was soaking her feet in the living room, watching television. Her husband, Hann Pan, had already gone to bed upstairs. Their twenty-four-year-old daughter, Jennifer, was in her bedroom. Their son, Felix, was not home.

It was November 8th, 2010. Just after ten o'clock in the evening.

Within the next twenty minutes, Bich Ha Pan would be dead — shot at point-blank range in the basement of her own home. Hann Pan would be shot twice — once in the back and once through the face — and left for dead on the floor beside his wife's body. And Jennifer Pan would call 911, her girlish voice hysterical, claiming that armed robbers had broken in and tied her up.

"Help me, please I need help," she told the operator, while her father's screams echoed in the background. "I don't know what's happening."

It was a terrifying story. And nearly every word of it was a lie.

I'm your host Ryan Dell. This is Canadian CrimeCast: Coast to Coast True Crime.

Today's story takes us to Markham, Ontario, where a young woman who spent a decade building an elaborate double life arranged the murder of both her parents — disguised as a violent home invasion — using her on-and-off boyfriend's drug-dealing contacts to carry out the hit. The price tag was ten thousand dollars.

This is the story of Jennifer Pan, her co-accused Daniel Wong, Lenford Crawford, Eric Carty, and David Mylvaganam — and the trial, the appeals, and the stunning guilty plea that unfolded over the next fifteen years.

But before we get to the murder, we need to go back to the beginning. Because the roots of this crime weren't planted in a single moment of rage. They were sewn slowly, meticulously, over the course of a lifetime built on lies.

CHAPTER ONE: THE DAUGHTER THEY WANTED

Hann Pan and Bich Ha Pan arrived in Toronto in 1979 as refugees from Vietnam. They were part of the wave of boat people fleeing the aftermath of the war, carrying nothing but the hope that Canada would offer their children something better than what they had left behind.

And by most outward measures, they succeeded. Hann and Bich were hard-working factory employees. They saved. They sacrificed. They paid off the mortgage on their elegant home in Markham — six months before the shooting, the house was free and clear.

They had two children: a son, Felix, and a daughter, Jennifer. And they poured everything into Jennifer's future. Piano lessons. Figure skating. Karate. The expectation wasn't subtle — it was an article of faith. Jennifer would go to university. She would become a pharmacist. She would have the life they never could.

And for a while, Jennifer played the part beautifully. She was competitive figure skater. A disciplined pianist. The kind of daughter who won prizes and made her parents proud. "I was the school's pet, not just the teacher's pet," she would later recall.

But something cracked in eighth grade. Jennifer didn't win any prizes at her graduation ceremony — despite the hard work, despite the great grades — and she lost motivation. She made a decision that would define the next decade of her life.

She forged her report card.

It was the first lie. It would not be the last.

CHAPTER TWO: A DECADE OF DECEPTION

What followed was one of the most elaborate webs of deception you'll ever hear about — not from a spy or a con artist, but from a quiet young woman living in a suburb of Toronto.

After high school, Jennifer told her parents she'd been accepted to study pharmacy at Ryerson University. She hadn't. Her applications to university had been rejected.

But rather than face her parents with the truth, she just kept going. She faked attending classes. She faked a graduation from Ryerson — and when her parents asked to attend the ceremony, she told them there weren't enough tickets. She even brought home a diploma. It was forged.

She then told her parents she needed to attend the University of Toronto for an advanced degree. She asked to move in with a friend named "Topaz" to be closer to downtown. Her parents agreed.

But there was no Topaz. There was no graduate program. Jennifer was living in Ajax with her high school boyfriend, Daniel Wong, and his family.

She told her parents she was volunteering weekends at the Hospital for Sick Children. She wasn't. She told them she was working as a pharmacist at Walmart. She wasn't.

Her father, Hann, grew suspicious. He noticed she didn't have a uniform or a pass card for Sick Kids. He asked to see her pay stub from Walmart, and the one she provided didn't look right. He pushed her to show him salary deposits online.

And that's when the house of cards began to collapse.

Jennifer admitted she had never gone to university. She had never worked at the hospital. She had been living with Daniel Wong for years.

Hann Pan would later testify about that moment: "I was very hurt because all of our efforts had been focused on her to attend school and she did not."

His wife, Bich, cried.

🔵 POLICE PERSPECTIVE MARKER

In my experience, the scale of Jennifer Pan's deception is extraordinary — not because lying is rare, but because she sustained an entirely fabricated life for nearly a decade without being caught. Forged diplomas. Fake jobs. A fictitious roommate. That level of sustained deception requires planning, discipline, and a comfort with dishonesty that should concern any investigator. When someone has spent years perfecting lies at this level, every statement they make — to family, to friends, to police — has to be treated with extreme caution. Everything Jennifer Pan said, from the first 911 call to her testimony on the witness stand, needs to be weighed against the fact that lying was second nature to her.

CHAPTER THREE: THE ULTIMATUM

After Jennifer's lies came to light in 2009, her parents gave her a choice: stay home, follow their rules, enrol in college, and end the relationship with Daniel Wong — or leave with him and never come back.

Jennifer chose to stay. On the outside, at least.

She applied to Centennial College and was admitted for January 2011. She appeared to be following the program. But the restrictions her parents placed on her were severe: limited cellphone use, constant supervision, a curfew, and absolutely no contact with Daniel Wong, whom they blamed for her years of lying.

And then the lies continued. In the spring of 2010, Hann discovered that Jennifer was not working at a pharmacy as she claimed. He confronted her again. And he delivered a line that would echo through the entire trial.

"Cease your relationship with Daniel Wong. If not, you have to wait until I'm dead."

Jennifer told friends she felt "trapped." That she was on "house arrest." That there was no room in her parents' world for the person she actually was.

She was twenty-two years old. She had a job teaching piano lessons. She could have walked out the door.

When asked about this on the witness stand years later, she said: "I could have moved out but I didn't want to abandon my family. I didn't want them to abandon me."

Pan also testified that she fell into a deep depression during this period. She described cutting herself. She described two failed suicide attempts. "Another failure to do what I wanted to do," she said.

CHAPTER FOUR: THE PLOT

The Crown's theory of the case was this: consumed with bitterness toward her parents and desperate to be reunited with Daniel Wong, Jennifer Pan began asking friends if they knew anyone who could help kill her parents.

She came up empty — until she went to Wong himself.

Now, by this point, their relationship was on rocky ground. Wong had moved on. He had a new girlfriend. In a text message just days before the shooting, Wong wrote to Jennifer: "I feel the way you feel, but about her. Im sorry. i was always walking on eggshells with you."

Despite his waning affections, Wong helped. He knew a man named Lenford Crawford through marijuana dealing — a middleman who went by the nickname "Homeboy." Wong connected Crawford with Jennifer.

Crawford, in turn, enlisted his close friend Eric Carty, a man already facing a first-degree murder charge in an unrelated case. Carty recruited his younger associate, David Mylvaganam.

The payment structure was straightforward: five thousand dollars per parent killed. If one person did both, he'd get "ten stacks" — ten thousand dollars total. The Crown argued that the money was to come from the life insurance and assets that Jennifer stood to inherit — her share of which was approximately five hundred thousand dollars.

On November 3rd, Wong texted Jennifer: "I did everything and lined it all up for you.”

Later that day Jennifer texted Crawford: "Today is a no go. Dinner plans out so won't be home in time."

The next few days were a flurry of cellphone contacts between the conspirators — phone calls, texts, location pings. The Crown would later present hundreds of pages of cellphone records mapping the connections.

The new date was set for November 8th.

That morning, Crawford texted Jennifer: "To after work OK will be game time."

Game time.

🔵 POLICE PERSPECTIVE MARKER

The cellphone evidence in this case is a textbook example of how digital communication can build — or destroy — a criminal conspiracy. These individuals were communicating through calls and texts in the days and weeks leading up to the murder, creating a digital trail that linked all five accused together. In modern policing, cellphone records — including call logs, text messages, and cell tower location data — are often the most powerful evidence available. In this case, the Crown used that evidence to demonstrate who was talking to whom, when, and where they were when they did it. The text "game time" sent on the morning of the murder is the kind of evidence that is devastating at trial. It's nearly impossible to explain away.

CHAPTER FIVE: THE NIGHT OF NOVEMBER 8TH, 2010

Three armed men entered the Pan home just after 10:14 p.m. A neighbour's surveillance camera captured images of three people entering the house, one person leaving at 10:30, and two more leaving by 10:32.

The Crown alleged that Jennifer left the front door unlocked for them.

Hann Pan was awakened by a man with a gun demanding, "Where's the f---ing money?"

As he was marched downstairs at gunpoint, Hann Pan saw something that would eventually unravel the entire story. He saw his daughter standing in the hallway near her bedroom, speaking softly with one of the armed men. She wasn't screaming. She wasn't fighting.

She was talking to him, Hann would later tell police, "like a friend."

Downstairs, both parents were forced into the basement. A third man had a gun to Bich Ha Pan's head. When Hann said he only had sixty dollars in his wallet, he was called a liar and hit on the head with a gun.

At one point during the ordeal, Bich Ha Pan pleaded with the gunmen. Hann testified that his wife said: "You can hurt us but please don't hurt my daughter."

One of the men replied: "Don't worry. Your daughter is very nice so I won't hurt her."

Their heads were covered with blankets taken from the house. One intruder asked another whether they should tie them up or tape them up, and whether to exit by the front door or the rear door. The other replied: "Shoot and exit by the front door."

Then the shots rang out. Bich Ha Pan was killed. Hann Pan was shot twice — once in the back and once through the face. By all medical logic, he should have died.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Jennifer testified that she had been tied to a banister by one of the intruders. She said she heard the gunshots, heard her mother scream, and then heard the men leave through the front door. She manoeuvred her phone out of her waistband and called 911.

When police arrived, they found her tied to the banister. Her father, gravely wounded, had managed to stumble outside and reach a neighbour's house, bleeding onto the garage floor. "My house was robbed and I was shot," he told the neighbour.

Neither Jennifer nor her father could provide a positive identification of the men who entered the home. No relevant fingerprints or DNA were found at the crime scene. None of the bullets could be matched to a gun. And while the men had demanded money and the master bedroom appeared to be ransacked, other valuables — including the keys to Bich Ha Pan's car parked in the driveway — were untouched.

For the next two weeks, police treated Jennifer as a victim.

She was photographed sobbing at her father's hospital bedside. She was seen carrying incense, head bowed, at her mother's funeral. She was the picture of a shattered daughter.

But then Hann Pan woke up from his medically induced coma. And he started talking.

🔵 POLICE PERSPECTIVE MARKER

Hann Pan's observation — that his daughter was speaking calmly with one of the intruders and was not tied up — is the kind of detail that changes the entire direction of an investigation. In the initial hours and days after a violent incident, investigators are relying on the account of the surviving witnesses. When the only witness who's talking is also the suspect, the narrative can be controlled. But Hann Pan's survival was, as the sentencing judge later said, "pure chance." Once he woke from his coma, police had a second account that directly contradicted Jennifer's story. That's the moment this case pivoted from a home invasion to a murder conspiracy.

CHAPTER SIX: THE INTERROGATION

Detective Bill Goetz of the York Regional Police — known around the force as "Gator" — was an expert in the Reid Technique, a method of interrogation designed to break through exactly the kind of performance Jennifer Pan had been putting on.

On November 22nd, two weeks after the shooting, Jennifer was brought into a small, windowless room at the York Police station in Markham.

Goetz was a burly, imposing figure with grey hair in a military-style crewcut. For the first two hours, he played the long game. He eased back in his chair, dropped the cop-speak, and focused entirely on Jennifer. He talked about piano — inaccurately calling the ballet Swan Lake "Swans on the Lake," which drew a small smile. He asked about her life, her pressures, the expectations that crushed her. He empathized. He told her she was a good person.

"There is no Jen," he told her. "They took Jen away. Sometimes the nicest dog, when it's cornered, bites back."

Jennifer opened up. She told him about the forged report cards, the years of deception, the depression, the cutting, the failed suicide attempt. Goetz used all of this, building rapport and trust, before turning the tables.

He reminded her that she was not the only witness. "You've got to remember your dad was there."

He told her, bluntly: "You're involved in this. I know that. There's no question about it."

For a long time, Jennifer resisted. Then came the crack. After barely a sound for nearly forty-five minutes, she uttered a muffled question.

"What happens to me?"

Goetz pressed. "You wish you could take it back?"

"Uh huh," she said, her voice muffled by sobbing.

After a minute and a half of silence, Jennifer began talking. She admitted the home invasion story included lies. She said she'd left the door unlocked. She said she'd brought one of the men into her bedroom to show him the money she'd promised for the job.

But her new version was just as fantastical as the first. She claimed the armed men hadn't come for her parents — they'd come for her. "No, just me," she told Goetz. "I didn't want to be here anymore because I was a disappointment. I was a disappointment in everything."

The Crown called this simply another ruse — another layer of lies from a woman who had spent a decade perfecting them.

Near the end of the fourth hour, Goetz left the room. When he came back, his tone was different.

"At this point in the investigation, I'm going to be arresting you for murder, also attempted murder, also conspiracy to commit murder."

Jennifer asked for a lawyer. Then she looked up at the detective who had spent hours gaining her trust and said seven words that cut through everything.

"I thought you were on my side."

When Goetz later took the witness stand, Jennifer's lawyer began his cross-examination with a pointed question: "Hallelujah, you got a confession, right?"

Goetz shook his head. "No, there wasn't a confession."

He was right. What he'd gotten was another lie — wrapped in just enough truth to be dangerous.

🔵 POLICE PERSPECTIVE MARKER

The Reid Technique is a structured interrogation method that involves building rapport, gaining trust, and then confronting the suspect with the evidence against them. It's effective — and controversial. What Goetz did in that interview room was textbook. He spent two hours becoming Jennifer's confidant, empathizing with her pressures, making her feel understood. And then he used that familiarity to push for a confession. Jennifer's response — "I thought you were on my side" — tells you everything about how effective the technique was. She had genuinely come to see Goetz as an ally. But Goetz was clear on the stand: he never got a confession. What he got was a partial admission wrapped in another fabricated story. Jennifer Pan was an exceptional liar, and even under sustained pressure from an experienced interrogator, she managed to construct a new version of events that deflected the most serious accusations. That's rare.

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE TRIAL

Jury selection began in February 2014 at the Newmarket courthouse. It took three weeks to find twelve jurors willing to sit through what was originally estimated to be a six-month trial. It would end up lasting ten.

Five defendants sat in the prisoner's box: Jennifer Pan, Daniel Wong, Lenford Crawford, Eric Carty, and David Mylvaganam. All pleaded not guilty to first-degree murder, attempted murder, and conspiracy to commit murder.

Carty's case was eventually severed mid-trial when his lawyer became too ill to continue. He would later plead guilty to conspiracy to commit murder in 2015 and was sentenced to eighteen years. He admitted to driving Mylvaganam and two other intruders to the Pan home on the night of the shooting. Carty died in prison in 2018.

The trial itself was a sprawling, complex affair. The jury heard from dozens of witnesses — Hann Pan and Felix Pan among them, along with an expert in "urban street slang," several of Eric Carty's many girlfriends, and even a man whom Mylvaganam's defence lawyer claimed was one of the actual gunmen but who was never charged.

At the centre of the Crown's case were the cellphone records. Hundreds of pages showing the web of contacts between the accused in the weeks leading up to the murder. Crown prosecutors Jennifer Halajian and Michelle Rumble painted a picture of a young woman consumed by resentment — a daughter who couldn't stand the restrictions placed on her life, who wanted the inheritance her parents' deaths would bring, and who "relentlessly, obsessively" loved a man who no longer loved her back.

The chain of conspiracy, as the Crown laid it out, ran like this: Pan went to Wong. Wong knew Crawford through marijuana dealing. Crawford enlisted Carty. Carty recruited Mylvaganam. Text messages between Carty and Mylvaganam discussed the payment — "ten stacks" if he did it all and shot both parents. Both Hann and Bich Ha Pan were shot with bullets from the same gun.

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE ASTONISHING TESTIMONY

Jennifer Pan took the stand in her own defence. It was a gamble. And a spectacle.

For days, she testified in her soft, girlish voice, spinning yet another version of events.

Yes, she admitted, she had once paid $1500 to a man named Ricardo Duncan — someone she described as looking like "one of those serious gangsters in the movies" — to shoot her father in the parking lot of his workplace. Duncan took the money and vanished. "I realized it was a sham," she said.

But then, she claimed, she'd changed her mind about wanting her father dead. Her relationship with him was improving. She even enrolled in college.

Instead, she said, she shifted the target: to herself. She contacted Crawford — "Homeboy" — through Wong, and arranged for men to shoot her. It was a way of committing suicide without shaming her parents, she claimed. Then she changed her mind about that too and tried to cancel the hit. A cancellation fee of $8,500 was negotiated, she said, though she didn't actually have the money.

The "game time" text from Crawford on the morning of November 8th? He was coming to collect the cancellation fee, she testified. The three men who showed up at her house that night? They were there for the money she owed them. Things went wrong. Terribly wrong.

There was another curious detail. Pan testified that one of the intruders removed the SIM card from her secret iPhone — a phone Wong had purchased so they could communicate when her parents took away her Samsung — and slipped it into his pocket before tying her up. Crawford's lawyer ridiculed this assertion, asking how someone could do that with one hand while holding a gun with the other.

"One and a half," Pan countered.

"See, the problem is we can't rely on anything you have to say because you're a liar," the lawyer shot back.

Pan conceded the point. "I admit that I am a liar. I was scared of being caught in a concoction. I was scared for making up these plans and plots. I had blown everything out of proportion."

Adding, with a frown: "It's disgraceful, my lies."

The Crown prosecutor was withering during cross-examination.

"May I suggest you loved being the centre of attention," said Rob Scott. "I'm going to suggest you were excited, you were going to be the victim again, on the front page of every Toronto newspaper. Poor Jennifer Pan."

The Crown prosecutor laid out the motive with surgical precision: The jury did not believe her.

CHAPTER NINE: THE VERDICT

On Saturday, December 13th, 2014, the twelve jurors filed back into the Newmarket courtroom after three and a half days of deliberation.

Jennifer Pan seemed almost cheerful beforehand, brushing lint off her lawyer's robes in what one observer called a playful gesture.

It didn't last.

The foreperson stood. The verdict was read.

Guilty. First-degree murder. Attempted murder.

All four defendants — Pan, Wong, Crawford, and Mylvaganam — were found guilty on all counts.

When the verdict was read at 2:45 in the afternoon, Jennifer silently bowed her head. She did not cry. But after the courtroom cleared, one lawyer who was present said she was seen shaking and weeping uncontrollably. "They didn't even give me a chance," she said — apparently surprised by the relatively short deliberation.

Her father, Hann Pan, was not in the courtroom.

Sentencing came on January 23rd, 2015. All four received automatic life sentences with no possibility of parole for twenty-five years.

The sentencing judge's words were stark. He called the crime "a considered business transaction" in which "the commodity was death." He described it as a murder for hire, facilitated by a person the victims implicitly trusted, inside the family home. He found the moral blameworthiness of each accused to be significant. And he found virtually nothing in the way of mitigating factors.

Hann Pan's survival, the judge noted, was "pure chance."

CHAPTER TEN: THE APPEALS

A conviction for first-degree murder in Canada comes with an automatic right of appeal. All four defendants exercised it.

The Ontario Court of Appeal heard arguments in January 2023 — more than eight years after the verdict. The decision, released in May 2023, was significant.

The appeal court found that the trial judge, Justice Cary Boswell, had made a critical error in the way he instructed the jury. He had given them only two scenarios to consider: either the attack was a planned and deliberate murder of both parents, or it was a home invasion that spiralled into violence.

But there was a third possibility that should have been left with the jury — one that Pan's own testimony supported. What if the plan was only to kill Hann Pan? What if the death of Bich Ha Pan was not part of the deliberate plan, but a foreseeable consequence of it? That could have opened the door to a verdict of second-degree murder or even manslaughter for Bich Ha Pan's death, rather than first-degree murder.

By giving the jury an all-or-nothing instruction — first-degree murder or acquittal — the trial judge had usurped the jury's role. The appeal court ordered a new trial on the murder charge for all four defendants.

However, the appeal court upheld the attempted murder convictions. The logic was sound: regardless of whether the plan was to kill one parent or both, the attack on Hann Pan was clearly the result of a planned and deliberate act. The life sentences for attempted murder were also upheld.

The case eventually went all the way to the Supreme Court of Canada, which ultimately sent it back for retrial.

🔵 POLICE PERSPECTIVE MARKER

This is one of those cases where a legal technicality — the failure to leave included offences with the jury — had enormous consequences. The appeal court was clear: the trial judge should have given the jury the option of finding the accused guilty of second-degree murder or manslaughter for Bich Ha Pan's death, in addition to first-degree murder. By not doing so, the jury was left with only two choices: convict of first-degree murder or acquit entirely. As the appeal court noted, there was a real likelihood that a jury, faced with only those options, would opt for the verdict that held the accused accountable — even if they weren't fully satisfied that the murder of Bich Ha Pan was planned and deliberate. That's not how the system is supposed to work. The jury decides the facts. The judge provides the legal framework. When the framework is incomplete, the verdict is vulnerable.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE GUILTY PLEA — 2026

In March of 2026, rather than face a second murder trial, Jennifer Pan stood in a mostly empty Newmarket courtroom and pleaded guilty.

Not to first-degree murder. To manslaughter.

Standing between her lawyers, Nathan Gorham and Breana Vandebeek, in a white dress shirt and black pants, with her legs shackled and her long black hair running down her back, Pan addressed the court.

Under an agreed statement of facts, she admitted that she had enlisted the help of Daniel Wong to arrange a hit — but the target was only her father. She described Hann Pan as an abusive and controlling man who treated her like "a piece of property," an "investment" designed to enhance his reputation.

She never intended for her mother to be hurt. But by pleading guilty to manslaughter, she accepted that she ought to have known her mother would be in the house and that it was "objectively foreseeable" that Bich Ha Pan could have been harmed or killed.

Pan received a life sentence — jointly requested by both the Crown and defence — to be served concurrently with the life sentence she was already serving for the attempted murder of her father. Because she had been incarcerated since her arrest in 2010, she was already eligible to apply for parole, though there is no guarantee it will be granted.

Superior Court Justice Michelle Fuerst called the circumstances "particularly aggravating." She said Pan's conduct "demonstrated an extreme lack of moral compass."

Pan's defence lawyer, Gorham, argued that she had been "pressed beyond limits that any child of her age should have had to endure." He told the court: "It's not just that she was an unhappy child. She was abused." He noted that Pan had been working as the chaplain's assistant in prison since 2017 and was focused on upgrading her education.

And then Jennifer Pan addressed each of her family members.

To her mother: "I love you more than anything. I'm sorry I did not come to you, I'm sorry that we did not talk, I'm sorry that I thought this fantasy would fix all of our lives, and we ended up without you. I'm sorry for all the love you were never able to give to others or to receive from us."

To her father: "There's no excuse for what I did. While I felt trapped with you and hopeless and degraded, I looked for a solution in a delusional and irrational way."

And to her brother Felix, who was not in the courtroom: "I need my brother to know I never wanted any of the media attention. I'm sorry that I've caused his privacy to be invaded."

Felix had written a victim impact statement that cut deeper than anything else in the case. Every time the family's story is retold, he wrote, "it is done at the expense of my sanity and my ability to move freely in the world." He described how people he believed were friends would share details about his life just to get a moment in the spotlight.

"I've seen my family's tragedy turned into entertainment for strangers," he wrote. "It comes back to haunt me constantly in the form of books, YouTube videos, movies, and high-profile documentaries. I cannot even enjoy Netflix without seeing the faces of those who destroyed my life trending as the number one show for weeks. It never stops."

Non-communication orders requested by Hann and Felix mean that Jennifer cannot contact them. They were not in court when she apologized.

CHAPTER TWELVE: WHERE THEY ALL ENDED UP

Jennifer Pan's guilty plea was just one piece of the final chapter. Here's what happened to everyone else.

Daniel Wong — Jennifer's on-and-off boyfriend, the man who texted "I did everything and lined it all up for you" — was convicted of manslaughter in February 2026 and sentenced to life. Like Pan, the new conviction makes him eligible to apply for parole.

Lenford Crawford — the middleman, "Homeboy," who served as a go-between connecting Wong and Pan with Eric Carty — pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit murder shortly after Pan's plea. He never went to the Pan home that night, but his role in organizing and passing information was central to the plot. His conviction also makes him eligible for parole.

Eric Carty — the convicted murderer who was accused of recruiting the shooters and driving the intruders to the Pan home — had his trial severed during the original proceedings when his lawyer fell ill. He pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit murder in 2015 and was sentenced to eighteen years. He died in prison in 2018.

David Mylvaganam — who admitted to being in the car that carried the intruders to the Pan home, and who texted about needing "a new new" (which an expert in urban street language said referred to obtaining a firearm) in the days before the shooting — is the only co-accused whose case remains unresolved as of 2026.

The two other intruders who entered the house that night have never been identified or caught. It was never established who fired the fatal shot.

EPILOGUE

Jennifer Pan arranged the murder of her parents from the bedroom of their Markham home. She left the front door unlocked. She had herself tied to a banister to complete the illusion. She called 911 and played the victim. She sobbed at her father's bedside and carried incense at her mother's funeral.

And for two weeks, it worked.

But Hann Pan survived. He woke from a coma. And he remembered what he saw: his daughter, standing in the hallway, speaking softly with an armed man. Not as a hostage. As a friend.

The sentencing judge at the original trial used a phrase that has stayed with me. He called the conspiracy "a considered business transaction." And then he named the commodity.

Death.

Jennifer Pan is currently serving a life sentence. She is eligible to apply for parole, though whether the parole board will grant it remains an open question. Hann Pan and Felix Pan have non-communication orders in place preventing Jennifer from contacting them. They were not in the courtroom when she apologized.

Felix Pan's words deserve the last word here. He asked, through his victim impact statement, for the retelling of his family's story to stop. I respect that. But I also believe that the facts of this case — the pressures, the lies, the chain of people who made it possible, and the legal system that grappled with it for fifteen years — matter. Not as entertainment. As a cautionary tale about what happens when the people we trust the most are the ones who can hurt us the worst.

This episode was written, researched and produced by me, Ryan Dell. If this is your first time listening, and you like what you heard, please take a moment to give me a 5-star review. It helps the podcast grow and helps other people find these amazing stories.

I love hearing from you, if you have a story I should cover, please send me an email. My email is: canadiancrimecast@gmail.com

I'm Ryan Dell, and this is Canadian CrimeCast: Coast to Coast True Crime.

Sources: Toronto Star reporting by Alyshah Hasham, Jeremy Grimaldi, Jacques Gallant, Rosie DiManno, Peter Edwards, and Betsy Powell (2010–2026); Ontario Court of Appeal decision, R. v. Pan, 2023 ONCA 362; Excerpts from A Daughter's Deadly Deception by Jeremy Grimaldi (Dundurn Press, 2016).