Murder at McDonald's (28 page)

Eleven

On Saturday, May 16, Cape Bretoners awoke to news of arrests in the McDonald's case. It was the news many longed to hear. Dave Roper's voice came at the beginning of CJCB radio reports each hour, as the tape of his early-morning briefing was replayed. It would be evening before television audiences got their first glimpse of what had happened overnight.

After a few hours of sleep, Roper had returned to the detachment to discover that one of the men had confessed and that Mike Campbell was no longer a suspect. He had, as Wood had insisted, been home in bed at the time of the crime, and he was released early Saturday morning, as soon as police were able to verify that alibi. As word of the Wood confession spread through the detachment, excitement filled the investigating team: one down, two to go. Roper knew he would be releasing the names of the suspects to the media at some point, but when reporters called him—every hour, on the hour—he told them to try later. The names could not be released until all three were remanded into custody by a justice of the peace, and by Saturday afternoon the RCMP had only one confession.

We at ATV already had two names, Derek Wood and Mike Campbell—the witnesses from the Irish club had told me about them in the pre-dawn hours following the arrests—and when I returned to work, shortly after noon, I was expecting to be tracking down the others. That was not the case: Greg Boone had already done the research, while preparing a report on community reaction to the arrests. Greg, the senior reporter in the ATV newsroom in Sydney, is one of the most-respected journalists in Cape Breton. When I arrived that afternoon, my head was still buzzing from the late night and lack of sleep over the past week; a session with the meticulously organized Greg Boone was exactly what I needed. Always exceptionally cautious with information, Greg closed both doors to the newsroom and returned to his desk. He was going to brief me, and he didn't want anyone to hear what he was saying—not even the two cameramen we were working with. He would not openly discuss information that had yet to be confirmed, and he was not going to have anyone say they heard Greg Boone identifying the suspects.

Greg and I had worked side by side in the Sydney newsroom for ten years, and our relationship was one of mutual respect and trust; it had also grown into a strong friendship. I had learned a great deal from Greg's conservative approach to information-gathering; our styles differed considerably, but we had the same measure of a reporter's worth. Truth was the bottom line, and we'd both seen too many reporters who never let truth get in the way of a good story. I sipped my first coffee of the day and watched as Greg read through his notes. A few of us at work had often joked that if a movie were ever made about Greg's life, Al Pacino would have to play the part. There was a strong resemblance, which was particularly apparent at times like these, when he was intensely focused.

As usual, Greg had done his homework. When he arrived in the newsroom early that morning, he found out that there had been RCMP activity on East Broadway, in the Pier, so he headed over there. The cameraman who went with him recorded images of officers taking evidence out of a mobile home; neighbours gathered to watch, and he found out from them that a young man named Freeman MacNeil often stayed in the trailer, and that he had apparently been arrested in connection with the McDonald's murders. Later, he picked up a second name; word of the arrests was spreading quickly through the community as the families and friends of the accused men found out what had happened.

“I read from your notes that you have identified Derek Wood and Mike Campbell as the suspects arrested at the Irish Club,” Greg told me. “Well, we have a problem; I've also been given two names—Darren Muise from Patnic Avenue, and a Freeman MacNeil. He lives somewhere on the North Side, but stays with his girlfriend in the Pier as well. We have video of police searching her place.” It was clear why Greg had closed the door; we had one too many names, and that meant one of them was innocent. “There is good news, though,” Greg continued. “None of them are young offenders.” That was a relief. Reporters and police alike had been talking about the possibility of suspects under eighteen being involved, and if that had happened, they would have been protected as young offenders—their identities would never have been released, and they would not have been behind bars for more than five years.

“O.K., I'll try Dave Roper to see if there are four men in custody now.” I called Roper, and he assured me there were only three men in custody, but added that a fourth had been picked up for questioning; this man had been released, and was not a suspect. But he wouldn't say who the fourth man was; he needed clearance before he could comment on any of the identities. I turned back to Greg: “I guess we're going to have to build bio's on all four and drop one when we get the names. I'll do Campbell—I know him, and I hope I'm wrong—but I think I can get some background on Muise, too.”

“Do you know him, too?”

“No, but I'm pretty sure my mother does.”

“I'll see what I can get on MacNeil and Wood, then,” Greg said.

“Actually, leave Wood for me as well. I have an idea on that. If you can find out who MacNeil is and try to track some pictures.” Greg turned to face his desk, and lifted his phone; I did the same. I hoped I was wrong about Darren Muise too; while I needed background information on all of the suspects, I did not want to confirm that one of them was the son of a woman I had known since I was a child.

My mother and Gail Muise had worked together in the same clothing store before my mother retired, and Gail is someone I really like. She has four sons, and I thought I'd heard the name Darren mentioned. I phoned my mother and asked for the names of Gail's sons. She bristled, wanting to know why I was curious about her friend—my mother knew what story I was working on. I told her that one of the boys might know someone involved. That was probably Darren, she said; she had heard that he knew one of the McDonald's workers. I asked what school Darren went to, and she told me he had quit but that he had attended Riverview High.

My throat was dry when we ended the conversation. I sat back and realized that the killers I'd been reporting about all week were not evil phantoms that had slipped into Cape Breton under cover of darkness and then disappeared after completing their grisly work. I had met Mike Campbell, and knew he was a nice kid from a nice family, and now I was finding out the same thing about Darren Muise. The report I was working on was going to hurt a lot of people, I thought, realizing—for the first time since the tragedy—how deeply scarred the community would be by this crime. I reflected on Dave Roper's confidence during the 3:00 a.m. press briefing; there was little chance these were false arrests. I knew Muise could have been the suspect who was questioned and later released, and that would mean Gail would be spared such tragic news. On the other hand, I didn't want to hear of Mike Campbell being involved, either. I later learned there were friends and relatives of Derek Wood and Freeman MacNeil who were praying that afternoon—praying that those young men had been picked up by mistake. But no matter who was released, it meant three families were not going to have their prayers answered.

I forced myself to put Gail Muise out of my mind and get back to work. “Greg, we need a yearbook from Riverview.” I called to my colleague. “We'll get Muise's picture there.” Then I phoned Garfield Lewis at home. The owner of the restaurant would certainly be able to tell me something about his employee, Derek Wood, and he might even have a photo. Lewis didn't want to reveal anything, but he had more questions than I did. He was consumed by the tragedy, and police had not told him who was in custody; he did not even know that Wood was among the suspects. I told him I could answer some of his questions, if he would answer some of mine. Wood was among those arrested, I said, but didn't identify the others. He gave me some background on Wood, who had just passed his employee evaluation. The young man was a relatively new member of the staff, and didn't have many friends at the restaurant, Lewis said, but his work was up to standard and he had just been made a permanent employee. I thanked him and hung up.

“Wood should be a Riverview student too,” said Greg, who had also just hung up. “He may have graduated last year, so we'll need a couple of yearbooks. I don't know about high school, but I know he went to Malcolm Munroe junior high—and Freeman MacNeil is not from North Sydney, he's from the Coxheath area. He also went to Riverview.” Greg had called a cousin who attended Riverview; he was trying to get the yearbook I had mentioned. She told him she didn't know Darren Muise, but Freeman MacNeil and Derek Wood were familiar names. And she had a junior high school yearbook with a picture of Wood, and her Riverview yearbook from a couple of years of ago had MacNeil's picture in it. Greg rushed out to get the books and talk to his cousin about the suspects.

We now had three pictures to go with three names. I had recovered a photo of Mike Campbell from the newspaper report on his intervention in the neighbourhood clash the summer before; all that remained was to find a current yearbook with a photo of Darren Muise. I called a student I knew who was about to graduate, and she not only had the book, but also knew Darren and had heard that he was in custody. I was surprised how quickly the word had spread—and even more surprised when she told me that people at school had been talking about Muise and Wood all week; the local teens were certain the two were involved. I asked her why no-one had called police with information, and she said they figured the police knew—they had talked with Wood. Besides, the kids were not 100-per-cent sure, and didn't want to report the wrong people. The young woman also gave me names of a few other people who knew Darren Muise, and she said would drop off the yearbook on her way into town. I called a few teachers from Malcolm Munroe and Riverview. They were shocked that I was asking about Muise, Wood, MacNeil, and Campbell. It turned out all four had attended the same junior high and secondary schools, and all four were well-liked by the teachers, who could not believe their names were connected to this case. By late afternoon Greg and I had assembled photos and brief biographies on all four young men.

Having the names and pictures was one thing; releasing them to the public was another. Without police confirmation, the names could not be used. A check with Dave Roper showed that the Mounties were not yet ready to release names, but Roper did say again that police were now dealing with three suspects, not four. Mike Campbell had been released, but Roper could not reveal his identity, either. We were still working with four pictures, one of which would have to be dropped. That ruled out prepackaging a report on the suspects; I couldn't commit anything to tape until I knew who the innocent party was and pulled him from the group.

Reaction from the victims' families would have added strength to Greg's report on community response to the arrest, but it was not to be. The Burroughs, Warrens, MacNeils, and Fagans had been advised by the RCMP not to speak with reporters, and they made it clear they would follow that advice. It was frustrating for us, but trying to convince most people that they don't have to do what they are told by police in a case like this is fruitless.

At the RCMP detachment in Reserve Mines, Darren Muise was playing hardball with Dave Trickett and Brian Stoyek. During the interrogation, Muise maintained a degree of control, asking for a glass of water and a pack of cigarettes. Later, he asked for another glass of water but instructed the officers to run the tap a little longer this time to make the water colder. While Derek Wood had occasionally argued and become defiant, Muise, at times, was almost abusive—not so much what he said, but what he did. His every comment was polite, but he kept blowing smoke rings at Trickett and Stoyek, making it clear to both officers that they were not reaching him.

Darren Muise at the Reserve Mines RCMP detachment shortly after being arrested. He was the last of the three to tell his story.

After being taken to the detachment, Muise spoke to a lawyer on the phone for about an hour, then sat down to face Trickett's and Stoyek's questions. Muise refused to comment on the McDonald's case, and held his ground for hours as the police tried to persuade him to get his side of the story on record. Trickett lectured in the style of Phil Scharf; that is, he conducted lengthy monologues as he tried to explain the importance of the truth to Muise. The monologues had little effect. Muise responded when Trickett insisted on an answer, but stayed away from the particulars of the case. Telling the truth might be a good idea, but he wasn't about to volunteer any.

While Wood had made it clear he did not want to be talking with police, Muise seemed to have no problem with this; in fact, he encouraged Brian Stoyek to talk with him about his past. He might be under arrest for murder, but Darren Muise still liked to be the centre of the conversation. The officers were amazed as he talked of his future and how he planned to correct the mistakes he'd made since leaving high school. “I'd like to go back to school. I wanna get my high school diploma.”