Peter Turnbull - Deliver Us from Evil

‘Sorry,’ Yellich smiled apologetically, ‘Miss Lecointe. And it was issued fraudulently. The person who obtained the passport was not Edith Lecointe. Can you tell us about Miss Lecointe’s death?’ Yellich addressed Blanche Lecointe. ‘I’m. . we are sorry if this is difficult for you.’

‘It was recorded as being accidental,’ Blanche, Lecointe replied softly. ‘And it is not difficult, but thank you.’

‘We’ll have to take a fresh look now,’ Marianne Auphan added. ‘It is now raising suspicions.’

‘Who issues passports in Canada? What is the procedure?’ Yellich turned to Marianne Auphan.

‘I believe it is the same system as in the UK, by post from the passport office. The nearest one to Barrie is Toronto. . completed form, a copy of the birth certificate plus two photographs, plus fee. The form has to be signed by a professional person authenticating that the applicant is who he or she claims to be and also that the photograph is authentic. I admit it’s the damned easiest thing in the world to obtain a passport in somebody else’s name and the passport officials, hard pressed as they are, won’t be suspicious. Miss Lecointe’s application won’t ring any alarm bells about illegal immigrants, she is, after all, white European, mid forties, resident in a small city which has no appeal for ethnic minorities or illegals, nothing suspicious there at all. Her application will be rubber-stamped. Here, in this situation, Miss Lecointe was still alive when the passport was issued so there would be no death certificate to nullify the claim. But passport applications are not cross-referenced to death certificates anyway.’

‘Not in the UK either,’ Yellich spoke softly. ‘Big hole in the procedural tightness methinks.’

‘Indeed.’ Marianne Auphan glanced at Blanche Lecointe and smiled. ‘I am afraid we will be here for a little time.’

‘Sure. . I’ll fix us all some coffee.’ She rose from the table.

Moments later, when all four were sipping coffee sweetened and with milk according to taste, Yellich asked, ‘So, could you tell us what you know about your half-sister? Did you grow up together? We need to go as far back as we can. . I am sorry.’

‘No. . sure, it’s OK, like I said. . don’t be sorry for anything,’ Blanche Lecointe smiled. ‘Happy to help. So, well, I am older. I was planned; Edith was not planned and was fostered from birth. She was given our family name and then forgotten.’ She shook her head, ‘Horrible. . just horrible to do that to a child.’

‘Where did she grow up? Do you know?’ Yellich asked.

Ventnor remained silent, occasionally glancing at Marianne Auphan; less occasionally their eyes met.

‘In foster care,’ Blanche Lecointe sighed. ‘All that unmet need. . Foster care can be like natural parenting, I guess it can be good or it can be bad. In her case, I don’t know the details but it definitely wasn’t good. Later I found out that she criminalized herself when she was still a juvenile and was sent to live with the nuns at a place called St Saviours. I don’t know where that was. . or still is. Like I said, all that unmet need, poor girl. We had no contact at all with each other, then she suddenly showed up on my front stoop with a valise or two and said, “Hi, I’m your sister”. Took the breath right from me. We even looked similar which was strange because girls are supposed to grow up to look like their mothers and boys like their father. . but me and Edith, we were our father’s daughters all right. And that, let me tell you, was the first I knew that she existed.’

‘You were not told about her?’

Blanche Lecointe shook her head. ‘Not a word, not a whisper, not a hint. Nothing. But she had her birth certificate, on it were daddy’s name and address and his occupation. . mechanic. . an auto mechanic. He was a blue collar, beer loving guy but I never figured him for a Lothario, always seemed to be a home boy, apart from Friday and Saturday nights in the Tavern but other evenings he was happy to sit home. . dug his garden at the weekends and took us on family vacations, so it came as a shock when Edith rang my doorbell with a couple of valises at her feet. Some shock.’

‘She brought valises?’ Marianne Auphan commented.

‘Valises?’ Ventnor queried.

‘Suitcases,’ Marianne Auphan explained quickly, glancing warmly at him.

‘Yes,’ Blanche Lecointe continued, ‘that’s the point, she wasn’t visiting with her half-sister, she was looking for a cot and a roof, already.’

‘And you let her in? I mean, you let her stay?’

‘Yes, after we had chatted some and she showed me her birth certificate. . and we looked like each other and we fell to talking quickly. Yes, I had a spare room and she was kin, so no reason not to, but the agreement was that it would be for only a short while; she had to look elsewhere for something permanent. It worked out well, she stayed for little under a year, she worked and she paid fair rent, picked up after herself like a good house guest and did her share of the housework.’

‘She took up employment?’

‘Yes, she did. She worked in a realtor’s in Barrie. She had office skills, you see. She had a good resume and got a job quickly. It wasn’t much, she was just a middle-aged secretary without a family, but she had a steady job and that was when the economy was beginning its downturn. I’m afraid I don’t know what it’s like in the UK right now but here in Canada. . well, there’s not much work right now.’

‘Same in the UK,’ Yellich said. ‘Myself and DC Ventnor here don’t get paid much but we see life and we have security of employment. We are among the lucky ones and we are not ungrateful.’

‘I know what you mean. I taught school. I have this house and an inflation-proof pension. I need to budget but I am also a lucky one.’

‘Yes. . so you and your sister must have talked?’

‘Yes, did we talk. . I mean did we talk. . we had a lot to talk about, a real lot to talk about, years to catch up on.’

‘Did she indicate she felt to be in danger?’ Yellich asked. ‘Did she say that someone was out to harm her?’

‘No,’ Blanche Lecointe shook her head slowly, ‘she didn’t but you know, for all that we talked, and we had a lot to talk about, she was always a very guarded and a private person. She had a social life that I wasn’t allowed to be part of.’

‘Any friend in particular?’

‘Sally Brompton. She was a co-worker at the realtor’s. They would go out together two or three nights a week. I reckon Sally Brompton will be able to tell you more that I can about her private life. She worked for Andrew Neill Realtor. .’

Ventnor scribbled the name in his notebook. ‘We’ll pay a call on her.’

‘They’re in Barrie near the terminal.’

‘The terminal?’ Ventnor queried.

‘The bus terminal on Simcoe Street, very near your hotel,’ Marianne Auphan explained. ‘I’ll let you have a street map, already, you’ll need it.’

‘Thanks.’ Ventnor smiled briefly and held eye contact with her.

‘So,’ Yellich rested his arms on the tabletop, ‘probably a bit of a difficult question, but what can you tell us about your half-sister’s death?’

‘No. . it’s all right and essential that you know. She died of exposure one winter.’

Marianne Auphan groaned and put her hand to her forehead, ‘One of those? It happens each winter, all across Canada. . it’s so tragic. . cometh the spring, cometh the grief.’

‘Yes,’ Blanche Lecointe repeated, ‘One of those. Her body was found near Bear Creek in Ardagh Bluffs. .’

‘It’s quite close to here,’ Marianne Auphan explained, ‘and also quite a similar housing development mixed in with spruce plantations. You can seem to be well out in the boonies. . out in the country, yet you are just a short walk from someone’s house or from a main road.’