Vance Boelter’s disguise wasn’t perfect. The silicone mask was somewhat loose-fitting and his SUV’s license plate simply read “POLICE” in black letters. But it was good enough on a poorly lit suburban street in the dead of night.
At 2:36 a.m. on Saturday, 30 minutes after authorities say Boelter shot and seriously injured Minnesota State Senator John Hoffman and his wife, he paused behind the wheel of the SUV near the home of another senator, Ann Rest, in the city of New Hope.
The SUV was stocked with weapons, including AK-47 assault rifles, as well as fliers advertising a local anti-Trump rally scheduled for later Saturday and a written list of names of people he appeared to be targeting. Senator Rest, prosecutors would later say, was among those Boelter set out to kill on June 14.
As Boelter sat in the SUV down the street from Rest’s home, another police car – this one an actual police car – approached.
A female officer from the New Hope police department, after hearing about the Hoffman shootings, had come out to check on Rest. Seeing the SUV, complete with flashing lights and police-style decals, she believed the man inside was a fellow officer.
But when she attempted to speak to him – one officer greeting another – she got no response. Instead, the man inside the SUV with police markings simply stared ahead. The New Hope officer drove on, deciding to go ahead and check on Rest.
Rest would later say the New Hope officer’s initiative probably saved her life, an opinion shared by New Hope Police Chief Timothy Hoyt.
“With limited information, she went up there on her own to check on the welfare of our senator,” Hoyt told Reuters. “She did the right thing.”
The brief interaction in New Hope underscored the carefully planned nature of Boelter’s pre-dawn rampage and how his impersonation of a police officer, including body armor, a badge and a tactical vest, confounded the initial attempts to stop him.
After the encounter with the New Hope officer, Boelter, 57, drove away from the scene, moving on to his next target. Police would pursue him for another 43 hours. In the process, they would draw in a phalanx of state and federal agencies, in what ranks as the largest manhunt in Minnesota history and added to the sense of disorientation in a nation already grappling with protests over immigration, the forcible removal of a U.S. Senator from a press conference and a rare military parade in Washington.
Federal prosecutors say they may seek the death penalty for Boelter, who has been charged with murdering two people and trying to kill two others, in what Governor Tim Walz has called a “politically motivated” attack.
Prosecutors said they are still investigating the motive and whether any others were involved. Boelter has yet to enter a plea. Manny Atwal, a public defender representing Boelter, said he was reviewing the case and declined to comment.
This reconstruction of the manhunt is based on court documents, statements by law enforcement officials, and interviews with a Boelter friend, local police officers, lawmakers, and residents of the impacted neighborhoods.
While the events unfolded like something out of a TV crime drama, there were parallels with past shooting sprees, criminal justice experts said. James Fitzgerald, a former FBI criminal profiler, said he would not be surprised if Boelter studied a mass shooting in Canada in 2020, when a gunman posing as a police officer killed 22 people in the province of Nova Scotia.
“These guys always do research beforehand. They want to see how other killers were successful, how they got caught,” said Fitzgerald, who helped the FBI capture the “Unabomber” Ted Kaczynski in 1996. “And, of course, a way you’re going to buy yourself some time is to pose as a police officer.”
HOFFMAN SHOOTING
The violence began at the Hoffman’s brick split-level home in Champlin, a leafy, middle-class suburb of Minneapolis. With his emergency lights flashing, Boelter pulled into the driveway just after 2:00 a.m. and knocked on the door.
“This is the police. Open the door,” Boelter shouted repeatedly, according to an FBI affidavit.
Senator Hoffman and his wife, Yvette, soon determined Boelter was not a real police officer. Boelter shot Senator Hoffman nine times, and then fired on Yvette, who shielded her daughter from being hit.
As Boelter fled the scene, the daughter called 911.
The Hoffmans were on a target list of more than 45 federal and state elected officials in Minnesota, all Democrats, acting U.S. Attorney Joseph H. Thompson told a briefing on Monday.
Boelter voted for President Donald Trump, was a Christian and did not like abortion, according to his part-time roommate, David Carlson. Carlson said Boelter did not seem angry about politics.
Thompson said Boelter “stalked his victims like prey” but that the writings he left behind did not point to a coherent motive. “His crimes are the stuff of nightmares,” he said.
After the Hoffman’s, the next address plugged into Boelter’s GPS system was a lawmaker about 9 miles away in the Minneapolis suburb of Maple Grove.
Surveillance cameras from the home of State Representative Kristin Bahner show a masked Boelter ringing the doorbell at 2:24 a.m. and shouting “Open the door. This is the police. We have a warrant,” the FBI affidavit says.
Bahner and her family were not at home.
From there, Boelter moved on to New Hope and the close encounter with the officer who had dispatched to Rest’s home. After that, he wasn’t seen by police again until he arrived at the residence of Melissa Hortman, the top Democrat in the state House, in Brooklyn Park.
Sensing that Hortman might be a target, Brooklyn Park police officers had decided to check on her. When they arrived at 3:30 a.m. they saw a black Ford Explorer outside her house, its police-style lights flashing. Boelter was near the front door.
When Boelter saw the officers exit their squad car, he fired at them. He then ran through the front door on the house, where he killed Melissa and Mark Hortman, her husband.
‘DAD WENT TO WAR’
When Boelter left the Hortman’s home, he abandoned his fake-police SUV. Inside the car, police found a 9mm handgun, three AK-47 assault rifles, fliers advertising a local anti-Trump “No Kings” rally and a notebook with names of people who appear to have been targets, according to court documents.
From that point, Boelter was on the run. Little has been revealed about his movements during the period, although police say he visited his part-time residence in north Minneapolis. He also sent texts. In one, to his family’s group chat, Boelter writes, “Dad went to war last night”. In another, to a close friend, Boelter says he may be dead soon.
Police also know that by early morning on Saturday Boelter had met a man at a Minneapolis bus stop who agreed to sell him an e-bike and a Buick sedan for $900. The two drove to a bank where Boelter withdrew $2,200 from his account. A security camera shows Boelter wearing a cowboy hat.
