Murder at McDonald's (14 page)

“Fine, but my client will be observing his right to silence, gentlemen. Good night.” Mollon left, and the officers returned to Derek Wood, who had resumed his protective posture and was once again responding to questions with “No comment” or “I wish to remain silent.” After twenty minutes, Kevin Cleary decided to leave the interrogation room and follow up a lead that was developing on a new front. Stoyek was asked to continue to work on Derek Wood.

The promising avenue Kevin Cleary had decided to pursue came from a young woman who had contacted the RCMP earlier in the afternoon. Police were cautious with her at first; she seemed too good to be true. Not only did this cooperative citizen, Cynthia Long, claim to have information on the crime, but she also claimed to know who had committed it, and even where the weapon was. According to Long, she had been with her brother and two other men the night before, and they were the ones responsible. “We parked at the bottom of the driveway, and they went in to rob the place,” she told police. “I stayed in the car, and when they came out, we went to the government wharf, and they threw the gun in the harbour.”

Cynthia Long told a compelling tale, and despite their concerns about her nervous demeanour, the officers in the Sydney detachment began to believe her. She seemed to feel that what she was saying was true, and it made no sense for someone to try to falsely accuse their own brother of such a horrible crime. The police knew that if the story was accurate, they had to protect this witness and move in on her brother and his friends.

Her account gained more credibility as officers realized it fit with other information they had. John Trickett and Storm had found a trail along the dark side of the restaurant, opposite the driveway. The trail led to the corner of the building, near the black steel basement door but also near the place Cynthia Long claimed the car was parked. If she was telling the truth, this was the trail left by the people Daniel MacVicar had seen running from the restaurant; they had gone around the building and back to their car. Police also had a witness—a worker from a nearby restaurant—who reported seeing a car, fitting the description Long had given and parked where Long said the killers had parked. The clincher for police came when a caller to the Crime Stoppers police information line identified the same three suspects as possibly being involved. This was an odd coincidence—one possibly generated by Long herself, if she told others her story before going to police, thus unintentionally starting a rumour that helped verify her statement to police. What officers did not know was that Cynthia Long was a disturbed young woman who warranted further checking. For Cleary and the other investigators, there was not a second to waste in the effort to get the killers and their weapons off the street.

While time was a critical factor, this time Kevin Cleary was not facing the pressure of wounded victims in need of hospitalization; he would call in the Emergency Response Team from Halifax. Anticipation filled the briefing room at the RCMP detachment—they had names, they had a witness, and they were certain they had an accomplice already in custody. The RCMP were going to get their men and do it quickly. The anticipation of a successful bust eliminated any fatigue that officers might otherwise have felt; no-one had been able to get any rest for the past twenty-four hours. The plan was worked out through the night; heavily armed ERT members would sweep down in the early hours of the morning and take the suspects into custody. But, while there was excitement among the officers, there was also concern—it was very possible this could turn into a shoot-out or a hostage-taking situation. The condition of the crime scene at McDonald's had made it clear to the police that they were dealing with dangerous people. ERT training involves hostage-taking scenarios, and members discussed possible options and complications.

As the Mounties prepared for their morning operation, the relatives of Jimmy Fagan prepared to say goodbye. Jimmy was hooked up to life-support systems, but his family knew he was already dead. The bullet that hit him cut a path through the right hemisphere of his brain, coming to rest against the inner wall of the skull, at the back of his head. The severity of the trauma to the brain caused a swelling that could not be stopped; his brain literally crushed itself under the pressure. Meanwhile, his head, face, and hands also swelled, to a degree that frightened his family as they stood helplessly by, knowing that Jimmy would never awaken.

After being told that their son, was clinically brain-dead, his parents had made the decision to donate his organs so that a part of their son would continue to live. It was something they knew Jimmy would want. Organ donation had been discussed by many Cape Breton families in the weeks before the McDonald's murders. Carmen Young, a teenager from North Sydney, had become the champion of a campaign aimed at having everyone sign an organ donor card; Young was in an Ontario Hospital awaiting a lung transplant. The decision to donate Jimmy's organs meant that his body would continue to be kept alive until an organ retrieval team flew in the following day. This prolonged the agony for the Fagan family; they could not leave Jimmy, even though they knew he would never awaken. A vigil was kept at his bedside, where a family's tears were often the only sound. It was difficult to stay, but impossible to leave.

For Germaine and Howard MacNeil, the prognosis wasn't much better. Their only child was still alive, but doctors didn't hold out much hope for Arlene. The bullet fired by Derek Wood had fragmented when it hit her face, and part of the slug was deflected by a piece of bone and travelled up into the frontal lobe of her brain. Doctors had operated to relieve the pressure, but their view was that the young woman would remain in a coma indefinitely. Germaine MacNeil wanted another opinion, though; she was not going to give up on Arlene. She insisted her daughter be transferred to a hospital in Halifax, but doctors said it couldn't be done—at least not yet. It would be too risky to move her at this stage, they said.

As the Fagan family spent their final hours with Jimmy, and the MacNeils prayed for their daughter, Derek Wood began to falter under Brian Stoyek's relentless questioning. Shortly after 10:00 p.m., Wood hinted that he had more information than he had given. “I don't know everything you want,” he said.

“Maybe not, Derek, but you do know some things, and it is important that you get them out here and now.”

“I might know some things, but not everything you think I know.”

“Look, Derek, if you know anything, you've got to tell me. If you lied before, it's time to come clean now. Tell me why did you lie.”

“Because I ran away.”

“What do you mean? Tell me what really happened.”

Wood changed his story, but still kept himself away from any involvement in the crime; however, he did point police towards Freeman MacNeil once again. “I propped open the door and walked down to Tim Hortons, I wanted to see if Freeman was there. I needed a drive. He wasn't, so I headed back.”

The version Derek proceeded to tell answered the questions Stoyek had been pressing him on. The black steel door had been locked from the inside because Wood had gone back into the basement after returning from the coffee shop. He said he was inside the basement when he heard a shot—just one—and a scream; when he went to investigate, he saw Arlene lying in a pool of blood near the basement stairs. Wood looked up the stairs to the kitchen and saw two men running out the back door. He did not know who they were, but one was wearing a mask, while the other was carrying a kitbag. Then he ran upstairs and out the back door, where he saw a second body in the entrance. Strangely enough, he did not identify Jimmy Fagan, a fellow worker, a man he knew. Upon realizing that he was following hard on the heels of the two men, who were headed towards the highway, he turned and ran to Kings Convenience. His excuse for lying the first time? He did not want to get involved.

Derek Wood may well have had a degree of confidence as he wove this new tale. Cleary and Stoyek had already told him they knew who he was involved with, that they knew who he let in the restaurant. But the names they gave him—those provided by Cynthia Long—did not have the desired effect of convincing him that police were on the verge of breaking the case—and, of course, there's no reason they should have.

With his new statement in hand, Brian Stoyek left the interview room to confer again with Kevin Cleary. The officers did not sense that they were getting the truth yet, but at least Wood was admitting that he had been inside the restaurant after the shots were fired. At least he was beginning to change his story. While the officers discussed their options and continued planning for the morning raids, Derek Wood curled up on the floor of the interview room and went to sleep. The interview room remained quiet for hours, but a short distance down the hall, the building hummed with activity as dozens of police officers prepared to capture some cold-blooded killers.

Seven

Friday, May 8, started out as a glorious day in Cape Breton. The sun shone brightly, and forecasters were promising unseasonably high temperatures by midday—the RCMP would be basking in the glow of that sun in a matter of hours. The ERT team was in position in Glace Bay, ready to make the first arrest. While the squad got ready, Kevin Cleary maintained radio contact; he wanted to be certain that everything went according to plan. As Corporal Cleary focused his attention on the pending arrests, Derek Wood was told he could go home. He refused to change his new story, and he could not be held indefinitely. Cleary had told officers he wanted Wood's clothing taken before he was released, but unfortunately the request was overlooked. The young man did not go back to his brother's apartment after being set free. Instead, he went to his cousin Mike Campbell's place; the two would be almost inseparable in the week ahead.

Kevin Cleary was not the only one in the Sydney detachment keeping a close eye on things in Glace Bay. Sergeant Gary Grant, the RCMP media liaison officer for Nova Scotia, had arrived from Halifax. Although Grant outranked Roper, he decided to let the constable conduct all news conferences. Roper had handled himself admirably under extreme pressure the day before, and Grant figured it would be better to let the local boy keep a high degree of visibility. Both Roper and Grant knew they would have big news to release in the next few hours, so they began to plan a formal news conference. This time, the media would be asked to go to the Cambridge Suites Hotel in Sydney, where ERT members and other out-of-town Mounties were staying. The decision to move away from the detachment was an effort to make a tough job a little easier for the team investigating the case. The size of the regular complement of officers at the Sydney detachment had swelled, due to the magnitude of the case; more than forty officers were taking part in the investigation. Most were working wherever they could find space in the main office area of the detachment. A media circus in the foyer was just too much of a distraction; besides, the reception area was simply too small. The entrance lobby had barely held the throng of reporters who gathered for the three o'clock briefing the day before, and Roper and Grant expected an even bigger crowd today. Reporters had started calling first thing in the morning, most wanting to know if any arrests had been made overnight. Some had heard about unusual police activity in the Glace Bay area and were asking if it was connected to the McDonald's case.

John Trickett had been assigned to back up the ERT team; he and Storm were being held back in a staging area as the team prepared to move in on the first suspect's home. The big dog was eager to get back to work, and Trickett hoped the two of them would be able to uncover some evidence in the house as soon as the arrest was made. Just before the team got into position, there was a radio message from the special observation unit, also called the “O team.” They had the suspect “on the move,” meaning he was outside the house; that complicated things a bit, but the team was still ready to roll. The ERT van, loaded with heavily armed RCMP specialists, got started. Shortly after it did, police were forced to circle behind a credit-union building in an effort to intercept a rusting hulk of a van—driven by one of the most-wanted men in Canada.

Gary McIssac was happy to see the sun. The van's heater wasn't working very well, and it would be good to be able to drive around without freezing. He reached for the radio, figuring he'd catch a newscast and see what was going on with that McDonald's case. Gary knew some bad guys and had been in a few scrapes himself—but, man, whoever was responsible for that mess was in need of some serious help. Suddenly the big van rocked as a loud bang startled McIssac. Well, shit, he had hit something. He turned to get out and see what had happened, when suddenly he was looking down the barrel of a gun. There were cops everywhere, and they were looking very serious. Gary looked from one officer to the next; they looked like something out of a movie, complete with bulletproof vests. One of the cops pulled open the door and ordered Gary to step out with his hands in plain sight. Gary wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew he wasn't going to argue with these guys; he'd go wherever they wanted to take him. As he stepped out, he found himself flung to the ground, chest down, his arms pulled behind his back and secured with plastic police ties. Gary McIssac had no idea what was happening.

John Trickett watched the arrest from his truck, about half a block away. Aside from the collision between the two vans, everything appeared to have gone well. One down, two to go. The second suspect lived in Sydney, near the Hardwood Hill home of Mike Campbell, where police knew Derek Wood was staying. That made sense to police; he could be the connection with Wood. Like Gary McIssac, Bill O'Handley had no desire to argue with the heavily armed police officers he suddenly found himself facing.

In typical small-town fashion, word of the movie-style arrest of Gary McIssac spread through Glace Bay in a matter of minutes. Telephones in newsrooms back in Sydney began ringing; the Mounties were “all over” Glace Bay; one “witness” was certain that shots had been fired—and had even seen the broken window in the suspect's van. (The glass broke on impact; no shots were fired.) The sudden rush of public interest complicated matters for police as they began searching the home where the third suspect was expected to be. Hundreds of people gathered across the street and watched as officers came and went, some with shotguns in hand. An amateur video photographer was recording an officer standing by a squad car, when suddenly a young man came walking up to him, wanting to know why all these cops were at his place. Glen Delaney had been across the street with friends when they heard the commotion outside. As Delaney talked with the officer in the car, a second officer ran from the house and grabbed him; he was quickly taken into custody and whisked away, in a police cruiser. All three suspects were now in custody; interrogations would begin within the hour. And the video tape of that arrest would play prominently on the evening news.