twelve

MOTIVE

I was aware of her.”

Robert McFadden was speaking of Richard Oland’s mistress, Diana Sedlacek. Crown prosecutor P.J. Veniot, having suggested in his opening statement that the pair’s adulterous relationship played a role in the murder, had just asked McFadden what he knew about her. The jury had seen Dennis’s videotaped statement to police, in which he told Stephen Davidson he was worried “people might be finding out” about the affair and asked McFadden, his father’s “right-hand man” and “the guy who’s closest to him,” to talk to him.

McFadden confirmed the private conversation. He said it took place about a year and a half before the murder, when he was helping Dennis with his divorce. “He sort of said that he had a matter to talk to me about.” According to McFadden, Dennis said he had “become aware of Diana, and should I have the occasion to suggest to his father it was getting out and to cool it, to take that opportunity.” McFadden said he nodded in response but never passed along Dennis’s concerns. “The opportunity never came up,” he testified. “Richard was careful” and “never made me aware of [the affair] directly. There was never an opportunity I could say, ‘Your family knows about this,’ so I didn’t.”

But it was no secret Oland was having an affair, McFadden added. Airline tickets and texts on Oland’s iPhone proved Sedlacek was more than just “Dick’s friend.” It wasn’t difficult, he said, to “follow the money” and “figure out what was going on.” McFadden’s choice of words was particularly apt. The Crown was arguing that two factors comprised Dennis Oland’s motive for murder: one was his anger over his father’s adulterous relationship and his determination to see that relationship end before it became common knowledge, and the other was his mounting financial problems. As early as his police statement, Dennis Oland had suggested Sedlacek as a viable suspect in his father’s killing. His lawyers at one point floated this idea but later seemed to abandon it, implying instead that Sedlacek’s husband might have played a role. For the second, more substantial motive, the defence used the testimony of the Crown’s own witnesses to counter every assertion the prosecution made about Oland’s debts and his father’s responses to his financial difficulties, arguing that Oland’s precarious financial situation long preceded his father’s murder, and denying that Richard Oland had ever expressed concern or anger about Dennis’s difficulties.

The courtroom was full on November 10. Although prosecutors refused to divulge their list of witnesses or the order in which they would be called, word had gotten out: the mistress was set to testify. Sedlacek swept through the front doors of the courthouse looking like Jackie Onassis, a black, white, and grey shawl draped loosely around her head, large dark sunglasses hiding her eyes. In a tailored black pantsuit she sashayed past the extra chairs sheriff’s deputies had set at the back of the courtroom to accommodate the large crowd, and she perched herself in the witness box. Veniot asked if she had moved outside New Brunswick. “That is correct,” the former real estate agent replied coolly. He didn’t ask where, but her Facebook page identifies her current city as Victoria, British Columbia.

Sedlacek said she had been in a “romantic relationship” with Oland for “very close to” eight years. Veniot asked if she was married at the time. “Legally married, at the time, correct,” she said; contrary to what Sedlacek might have meant to imply, she was living with her husband throughout the affair, and the couple did not separate until after the murder. She said she saw Oland about three times a week, “fairly frequently” at his Far End Corporation office. “Often after church on Sunday, we would pop in there for a bit,” she told the riveted crowd. “He was very interested in wanting to share his week with me, show me what he had done, ask me questions about what he should do.” At Veniot’s request she described the office layout, adding extra details — the french doors with curtains, old-fashioned water heater, the number of computer monitors — that made clear her familiarity with the space.

They also travelled together “many times,” and were planning a trip to Portland, Maine, just before his death, she said. The jury had already heard that investigators discovered entries on Oland’s electronic calendar for the weeks following his death: Oland had identified them as trips A, B, and C. Maureen Adamson, who knew about other entries — such as a five-day service appointment for his BMW in Moncton, an hors d’oeuvre luncheon at the Union Club, and when a particular senator would be in town — in a schedule so full his “free” time slots were marked, said she had “no idea what they were.” Oland must have entered them himself, she said, either typing them on his computer or downloading them from his iPhone, although Adamson would on occasion make travel arrangements that included Sedlacek. The entries were made at 4:42 p.m. on July 6, 2011, Adamson had said, less than an hour before Dennis showed up at the office, and she left the two of them alone together.

Sedlacek, sounding increasingly confident as she grew accustomed to having all eyes locked on her, said she and Oland had been texting on July 6, 2011, about possible travel dates, discussing whether to leave on July 11, 15, or 20. The jury had already heard about the texts, too. Oland’s iPhone was never recovered, but it had been connected to his office computer on July 6, and the data on it had been backed up. The Crown had entered into evidence two pages of the chat log from July 5 and July 6, 2011, extracted by RCMP tech crime forensic analyst Neil Walker. Veniot asked Walker to read the messages between Oland and Sedlacek aloud for the courtroom, as Connie Oland looked on. “Kisses Snuggle me up I need your body,” Sedlacek wrote on July 5 at 9:02 p.m. “Snuggle up kkk in bed,” Oland replied seventeen minutes later. (K was their code for kisses, the court would later hear.)

Sedlacek had since upgraded her cellphone, she said, but had downloaded the information from her old one. She still had text messages and phone call history between her and Oland, the courtroom heard. Veniot led her through the events of July 6. She said she got up, showered, ate breakfast, and texted Oland. Veniot moved to submit five pages of text messages downloaded from Sedlacek’s cellphone into evidence, and the judge ordered a mid-morning recess. A female sheriff’s deputy escorted Sedlacek during the break. When court resumed, each juror had copies of the messages from July 6 and July 7, 2011.

At 9:08 a.m. on the last day of Oland’s life, Sedlacek messaged, “Morning Lixxxx on Goldn Gun. Drvn 2gym — Did Zu find note? — re Our Trip.” Asked by Veniot to explain the first part of her message, she replied briskly, “It’s a term of endearment,” provoking a few muffled snickers from the public gallery. Less than a minute later, Oland, who was at home with his wife and her visiting family, responded, “Have in [office] just up kkk.” She replied, “Kissssss wen U get ther text it — mmm kisss.” Sedlacek drove to the gym and missed a call from Oland. “Sorry love in spin class,” she texted, “phones not allowed 2 noisy w music Kissss.” She showered and went to a Shoppers Drug Mart and a Sobeys grocery store. He texted back at 12:01 p.m.

“3 options all ex St. Stephen nb. Option 1 lv am jul 11 return jul 15 11.00 am Option 2 lv 15 pm return pm 3.00 jul 19 Option 3 lv jul 20. At 4.00 pm return 24th All should be 4 nites would prefer option 2 or 3.” Sedlacek said she was driving at the time and pulled over to the side of the road to reply. “I agree 2 or 3 let me think,” she replied. At 1:57 p.m., she wrote, “Let’s leave at Noon on Fri 15th [so] we can arrive early enough in Portland — So leave 15th come back on 19th. Kisses.” It’s unclear whether Oland ever read that final text message, the courtroom heard. Neil Walker testified that as of 4:44 p.m., he had not. That’s when his iPhone was disconnected from his computer, and there’s no log of what happened after that, Walker said.

At 6:44 p.m. on July 6, Sedlacek texted Oland, “U there??” She tried calling before sending another text at 7:19 p.m. “You’ve turned your phone off!! Why!!!!!!?????? Your not at office & don’t tell me U hav a ‘Bus’ mtg cause U don’t — So tell the fucking truth!!! Cause I’m sitting here not doing suspicious things & I hav a lot of men who would love 2 b with me !!!!!! Do stop this fucking around! And answer the damn phone! I wil call at your house.” Sedlacek attempted to explain this message. “We were always teasing each other,” she said, but defence lawyer Alan Gold objected, and Veniot instructed her to stick to the texts.

Sedlacek said she believed Oland’s phone had been turned off, because when she tried to call, it went immediately to voicemail. She tried calling repeatedly that night from her home on Darlings Island, she said, which is about a thirty-minute drive from Oland’s office. She could not remember how many times she tried calling; she lost count. Veniot asked if she was expecting a call back. She “absolutely” was, she said. He asked if they had a pattern or routine. Yes, when called or texted, “I had to respond within a period of time,” she said, without elaborating. (Sedlacek had told police she contacted Oland every day at 6:30 p.m., “and he always answered,” but the jury didn’t hear about that statement because Veniot didn’t ask Sedlacek about it.)

At 11:12 p.m. she wrote: “Pathetic!”

The timeline of Sedlacek’s efforts to reach Oland was important to the prosecutors. Oland’s not responding to any texts or calls after 6:44 p.m. supported the Crown’s theory he was already dead.

When Sedlacek still hadn’t heard from Oland by the next morning, she was even more annoyed. She drove by his office on her way to a hair appointment at a nearby salon and saw his BMW parked in its usual spot. “What the hell is going on with you?????????” she texted at 9:37 a.m. During her appointment, with still no response, she told the court, her impatience started to turn to panic. When she called his cellphone, it was “just dead…nothing.” Calls to his office: just “ringing, no answer.” She was “texting, calling, praying,” she said.

After her appointment, she walked up the hill toward Oland’s office and saw police outside. She said she told one of the uniformed officers she had an appointment to see Oland and was told no one was allowed inside. At some point, either before or after she spoke to the police (or both), she sent emails to Maureen Adamson and Robert McFadden but got no reply. By 12:52, she was frantic. “Richard why [are] the police at your office and car in lot — trying to reach everyone — What has happened PLEASE I [love] you God be with My Love — Praying praying.” Then she saw Oland’s car towed away. “I knew something horrible had happened,” she said. “I didn’t know what.” Sedlacek, thinking he’d had a heart attack, called Oland’s home to see if Connie knew what was going on; Dennis would later describe her as “yelling” at his mother over the phone. Sedlacek’s call prompted Connie to call McFadden, and she learned that her husband was dead. Sedlacek said it was later that day when she found out Oland was dead. “Somebody had said something to me,” she said.

Sedlacek said she never told her husband, Jiri Sedlacek, about the affair. According to her, he only found out after Oland’s death, when police questioned him. They were both at their Darlings Island home on the evening of July 6, she said. The Crown called Jiri Sedlacek, eighty-seven years old. He shuffled unhurried up the courtroom aisle. He testified he met Richard and Connie Oland around 2003. The couples socialized together at each other’s homes about eight to ten times over the years, along with other friends and acquaintances, he said. The former Bata Shoes senior executive enjoyed talking to Oland; he said he found Oland interesting and well travelled. He believed the last time he saw Oland was at Christmas mass in 2010. They shook hands, he said.

Prosecutor Patrick Wilbur asked Sedlacek about his whereabouts on July 6, 2011. He said he was at home, as he was most days. He had a six-acre property and large garden to tend. (He has since moved from Darlings Island to Hampton.) His wife was “absent” most of the day, he testified, but he believed she was home on the night of the murder. “What, if anything, did you have to do with the death of Richard Oland?” Wilbur asked. “Nothing,” Sedlacek replied in a firm voice. He said he found out about the affair in October 2012, when his lawyer showed him a newspaper article that identified his wife as Oland’s mistress (not when Saint John police interviewed him, as his former wife had testified). He had been out of the country at the time the affair became public through media reports, he said.

In his police interview, Dennis Oland had suggested that Diana Sedlacek might have reason to harm his father. “The only person that comes to mind is this supposed girlfriend, because she really seemed to be a whack job. Like, they call her the Dragon Lady. You know she’s…this hostile…somebody who you think could be that Fatal Attraction–type person,” he told police. The defence also tried to direct suspicion at Sedlacek as a plausible alternate suspect early in the trial, suggesting that her relationship with Richard Oland had started to sour in the weeks leading up to the murder. On September 29 Alan Gold had introduced correspondence and phone calls between the pair, including a text she sent on July 4 at 11:20 a.m. “Richard Richard!!!!! It’s 2 long now — Hate this waste of time!!!! You’re always wasting OUR time OUR life.” Two seconds later: “Where are U???? Are u not coming back 2day????” Then at 3:03 p.m.: “What’s happening now? Are U here? Want 2C you.” They had two brief chats, each lasting less than two minutes. Then Sedlacek started texting again at 5:56 p.m., sending three more texts before Oland responded with a call at 9:10 p.m. “So two days before the date we’re all focused on [July 6], it took him over four hours from her first message to respond,” Gold noted.

The next day, it was “essentially eight or nine hours before Richard Oland gets back to her after she starts messaging him,” he said. The RCMP computer expert, Neil Walker, agreed Oland was “not prompt” in responding during that forty-eight-hour period, based on the extracted data, but suggested Oland might have deleted some of his messages so they wouldn’t be seen “at home.” Gold countered that Oland retained other intimate messages that would have been good candidates to delete, and Walker agreed.

Sedlacek might have maintained that most of Richard Oland’s family knew about the relationship, but Oland attempted to conceal the affair, argued Gold. He noted Oland listed Sedlacek’s number under three different names in his iPhone contacts list: Office Jones, Office One Dr. Jones, and Diana Sedlacek. Her photo was not associated with any of them, Gold pointed out; Oland used a photo of three male friends. If you’re a married man having an affair, you don’t want your mistress’s picture popping up, he said.

Gold asked Robert McFadden if Oland’s phone habits started to change just prior to his death and whether he had started ignoring calls and letting them go to voicemail. McFadden confirmed he had noticed that. Gold also asked McFadden if Sedlacek’s messages in this period included words to the effect of stop wasting our time, leave your wife, let’s start our new life. Veniot objected, arguing it was hearsay, and Walsh asked the jurors to leave for a few minutes while he discussed the issue with the lawyers. When the jurors were called back fifteen minutes later, Walsh told them to “ignore” what they had just heard about Sedlacek wanting Oland to leave his wife. He said Sedlacek would be called as a witness later, and Gold should put the question to her directly.

But in a surprise move, the defence chose not to cross-examine Diana Sedlacek. Although the jury never heard about it, a polygraph test indicated that she told the truth when she said she was at home with her husband at the time of Oland’s death, which may have prompted the defence to abandon the idea of her as a suspect. Instead, Gold grilled her former husband. Gold argued it was difficult to believe Jiri Sedlacek didn’t know about an eight-year affair, particularly when his wife went away on trips with Oland, and suggested it was a good motive for murder. He asked Sedlacek if he would have been furious if he’d learned, in 2011, that his wife of twenty-four years was cheating on him. “Probably I would have been very upset,” replied Sedlacek. “I was married to that lady.” But he insisted he never even suspected the affair.

“If you had something to do with Richard Oland’s death, would you come to court and tell the jury you did? Of course not!” Gold retorted. He demanded to know if police asked Sedlacek for his bank records to see if there was any large cash withdrawal, implying that Sedlacek may have hired someone to get rid of his wife’s lover. No, said Sedlacek. Nor had they asked him for his phone records or the GPS on his vehicle. The “sum extent of the police investigation” of Jiri Sedlacek, Gold argued, was to speak to him twice and ask him his whereabouts on July 6. Sedlacek said he believed that was true. He had nothing to do with Oland’s death, he maintained.

The Crown contended that Dennis Oland simmered with resentment over his father’s extramarital affair, but that it was not the real source of his stress. Oland’s increasingly dire financial situation was a central part of the Crown’s circumstantial case against him. Although it isn’t essential to prove motive, prosecutors were confident the money trail would lead to a conviction.

Throughout the trial, the prosecutors called several witnesses who could lend credence to their theory. Maureen Adamson testified on the first day of the trial that Richard Oland was very much in control of his money. He used various firms, including CIBC Wood Gundy, to handle his estimated $36 million in investments, but he made his own decisions about buying and selling stocks, she said. He kept the TV in the office tuned to financial news all day and real-time global market activity running on at least three of the six computer monitors at his desk. He also used e-trade to do some of his own transactions. Oland, as she put it at the preliminary inquiry, “wanted to know where every penny was.” He tracked his spending at home and at work. Coded spreadsheets for expenses such as groceries, travel, and car repairs showed him exactly how much he spent in each category.

Adamson testified that she was aware of Dennis Oland’s debt to his father. Dennis paid the monthly interest by post-dated cheque, which she deposited. (Although Veniot had told the jury in his opening statement the interest amount was $1,667, Adamson, in her exacting manner, specified it was actually $1,666.67 — which totalled exactly $20,000 a year.) Dennis Oland usually sent the cheques in batches of eight to twelve at a time, and she typically deposited them on the fifteenth of each month. In April 2011 his last batch ran out. On May 24, Adamson sent Dennis a reminder email.

“Dennis: Your monthly cheques have run out (I didn’t have one for this month). Could you pls send some again for deposit.” Within about an hour, he responded. “Ok, and when u say u don’t have one for this month u mean May correct?” “Right,” Adamson replied. “I did not have one for May — just a reminder.” On June 20 she emailed again to ask if he’d sent over an envelope of cheques. Oland replied promptly that he had, either two weeks earlier or at the beginning of the preceding week. Adamson didn’t remember seeing the cheques, but Canada Post was on strike at the time, and she assumed they were in the mail. Oland said he would deliver new ones if nothing turned up in the next couple of days. “Not me rushing you, Dennis,” Adamson replied. “We’ll see how the mail goes and then go from there.”

On June 28, she emailed again to let him know the cheques had arrived. He asked if she could wait until the following Monday, July 4, to deposit the first one, even though by this time he had already missed his May and June payments. Adamson agreed. “Okay — I’ll wait until Monday.” Adamson testified she didn’t deposit the cheque until Tuesday, July 5. Not until sometime “after Mr. Oland’s passing” the cheque came back marked NSF, for not sufficient funds, she said. Adamson’s testimony suggested that Richard Oland was likely unaware that his son’s cheque had bounced, but Dennis Oland’s financial records showed the rejected payment appeared in his chequing account on July 5, so Dennis could have known about the returned cheque when he went to his father’s office on July 6.

The Crown also called Robert McFadden. Richard Oland and McFadden met in 1980-81 when McFadden, a chartered accountant, was seconded from the firm Coopers & Lybrand to be the financial officer for Oland’s Canada Games project. McFadden later worked for McCain Foods and Baxter Foods and left a promising position at the latter company when Oland recruited him to work at Brookville Transport. McFadden remained at Brookville after Oland sold the company in 1997, and after the new owners terminated him, he successfully sued for breach of contract.

He began working for himself, handling mergers and acquisitions for various clients while continuing to do some per diem work for Oland. By 2006, “for all intents and purposes, [Oland] consumed all of my available time,” said McFadden, and he moved into the Far End office. McFadden said he sat at the end of the folding laminate-top table in the middle of the office for “a long time” — years. But Oland eventually shifted around some of his stacks of boxes, each one filled with records, and McFadden got his own room at the back of the office.

McFadden helped Oland with everything from preparing his taxes and setting up his computer systems and a syncing program for his iPhone to dealing with suppliers and contractors around the world for Oland’s new custom-designed, Spanish-built sailboat. There was no typical day, said McFadden. Every day was different, and “they were often very interesting days.”

McFadden had given a statement to police on the morning Oland’s body was discovered, when he “had a sense there was foul play,” as he put it. Veniot asked whether he was approached by police about providing a DNA sample.

“Yes, I was,” he said.

“Did you do so?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I’m not going to ask you why, sir,” said Veniot. Police covertly obtained a DNA sample from him on December 29, 2012, by following him and seizing a straw he used at an East Side Mario’s restaurant.

Two money managers at CIBC Mellon in Toronto handled the lion’s share of Oland’s investment portfolio, McFadden said. He also had some money with Wellington West and a small percentage — a few million — through his son at CIBC Wood Gundy. McFadden also had some RRSPs through Dennis, whom he had known since 1995, the court heard. Like Adamson, McFadden knew about the money Dennis owed his father. He had helped broker the arrangement in 2008-09, he said. Dick, McFadden said, provided a total of $538,000 to his son: $120,000 for the cash settlement of marital property, $303,000 to settle the mortgage on the family homestead, and $115,000 to cover a line of credit. His other company, Kingshurst Estates, also subsequently purchased the adjacent “farm,” where the stables are located, he said. Oland had wanted to “formalize” the loan with a mortgage and the first right to buy the home in the event his son no longer lived there, said McFadden. Oland also wanted his son to enter into a “domestic contract” with his then significant other, Lisa Andrik, who went on to become his second wife. None of that happened, said McFadden. Instead, Dennis Oland provided “notes” to document the loan and in September 2009 started making monthly interest-only payments of $1,666.67 on the $500,000 identified as a “mortgage,” said McFadden.

Veniot asked McFadden about the life insurance meeting Richard Oland had on the morning of July 6. McFadden said the two men were “peddling” life insurance, hoping to sell Oland a new policy. His existing policy was up for renewal in the “foreseeable future,” McFadden explained, and Oland was willing to go through the medical tests to see if he could get a better rate. No evidence was presented about what might have changed under a new policy, but his investment firm, Far End Corporation, was the beneficiary of the existing policy. Oland was the sole owner and lone director of Far End, as well as a real estate company, Kingshurst Estates Limited, both subsidiaries of a numbered company he also fully owned. After his death, his estate held the shares of the companies.

“The executors of the estate appointed new directors of each of the companies,” McFadden testified. He and Dennis Oland were the co-executors of the estate, and they appointed themselves as the new directors. Within days of his father’s violent death, Dennis Oland became president of his main holding company and secretary of the two subsidiaries. McFadden became the secretary and treasurer of the numbered company and president and treasurer of the two subsidiaries.

A handwritten to-do list found on McFadden’s desk at the Far End office had “will” as the sixth and final item. The list was dated July 4, two days before the multimillionaire’s slaying. “It was a recurring event,” McFadden testified, although the existing will dated back to 1996. “Once in a while he’d say, ‘Let’s revisit the will.’” Oland had just come back from a fishing trip and was pretty “mellow,” he added. The other items on the to-do list included filing the corporation’s tax return, negotiating a lease for a new office, dealing with Oland’s life insurance policy, and matters related to Oland’s sailboats. The terms of the existing will were “relatively simple,” said McFadden. Oland’s house in Rothesay, along with all of the furniture and fixtures, were to go to his widow, Connie. After his funeral was paid for and his debts settled, any assets realized and the corporations were to be transferred to a spousal trust. Connie would receive income from the residual. And if that was “insufficient,” she could receive more money from the capital, at the discretion of the trustees — McFadden and Dennis. Upon Connie’s death, the trust would dissolve and the three Oland children would share the residual estate equally. McFadden said Richard Oland wanted to set up an auction process for “his stuff,” where survivors could pick items they wanted. He was also interested in setting up a family trust, as some of his wealthy friends had done, which would offer some tax advantages, McFadden said.

The Crown began pushing the money motive in earnest in the eighth week of the trial. The junior prosecutor, Derek Weaver, who had taken the lead with the technology experts, called banking and accounting experts to provide sensational details of Oland’s financial problems. Weaver submitted a binder containing hundreds of pages of financial documents obtained from CIBC. The jurors were each given a copy, adding to the numerous exhibits and personal notes they were already balancing on their laps and tucking under their seats. “I don’t know how you’re doing, ladies and gentlemen, with no desk, because I’m full up here,” said Justice Walsh. The court eventually provided a large shelving unit where jurors could store their documents.

Michelle Lefrancois worked at CIBC in personal banking and handled some of Dennis Oland’s loan applications. When someone wanted to borrow money, she would ask for proof of income, run a credit history check, prepare a statement of assets and liabilities, and send it all off to the underwriters, she said. If the loan was approved, she would then meet with the client to complete the paperwork.

On August 9, 2010, less than a year after receiving the $538,000 bail-out from his father, Oland borrowed $75,000 from CIBC, at an interest rate of prime plus 0.5 per cent, said Lefrancois. It was what the bank called a “home power” line of credit, secured against his Rothesay home, the same property he had already refinanced with his father. Seven months later, on March 8, 2011, Oland applied to increase his line of credit to $163,000. “Because he had the equity, we could make that change,” she said. Any amount up to 80 per cent of a home’s value is allowed; Oland’s home was valued at approximately $650,000.

Weaver asked Lefrancois what Oland had portrayed as his assets and liabilities to get approval. She was trying to remember when Alan Gold objected. The jurors left the courtroom so Justice Walsh and the legal teams could hash out the issue. The Crown was clearly questioning whether Oland had disclosed to CIBC his true financial situation, including his substantial debt to his father, when applying for money from the bank. McFadden had previously testified no contract between father and son was ever signed, presumably meaning there was no public record of that debt for CIBC to check when approving Dennis Oland’s line of credit, and thus his home appeared to be mortgage-free. Gold told the judge the defence had looked through the disclosure material from the Crown very carefully and did not find any lists of assets and liabilities provided to the bank to obtain the line of credit — an “obviously important” issue, he noted.

Walsh concluded that, in the absence of supporting documents, he could not allow Weaver to question Lefrancois about what Oland told her about his assets and liabilities. When the proceedings resumed, Weaver dropped the question and moved on to ask Lefrancois about the NSF, or bounced, cheques. She said some clients have discretionary overdraft limit privileges, as long as their account has enough money to cover the cheque within fifteen days. Oland had lost his overdraft privileges, she said. He exceeded his $163,000 limit by $481.02 on June 9, 2011. On June 30, his payment was rejected for not sufficient funds.

June was also when Oland requested an advance on his pay, the court heard from his former supervisor, John Travis, CIBC Wood Gundy branch manager and one of roughly twenty-five financial advisers. Travis had known the Olands most of his life. He’d worked for Richard Oland at Brookville, considered him a mentor, and was a witness to his will. Financial advisers are paid through commissions on trades and fees for portfolio management, said Travis. He estimated Dennis Oland’s “book of business” was worth $200,000 to $300,000 in commissions and fees in 2011, “maybe more.” But on June 1, Oland had emailed Travis, requesting an advance to carry him through a cash crunch. Travis read their email exchange aloud for the courtroom.

“Hi, I had a good chat with Dick [his father] yesterday and the timeline to see some funds flowing this way looks to have firmed up to the August/September time period. I also met with [redacted] last week and it looks like we’ll begin the process of consolidating his assets here starting in September. We are looking at total new assets in the $10-$20m range. So things are progressing very well,” Oland wrote. “In the meantime, it does look like I am going to struggle with cash for the next few months and as a result I wanted to revisit your offer to assist me to get through this crunch period.” (Travis explained to the court during cross-examination he had asked Oland around May if he might need some help “in the current market environment,” which he portrayed as lean.) “Summer is usually slower for me so I am a bit concerned,” Oland’s email continued. “From what I can see at this point in time, two months of financial help (June and July) would be very helpful and most likely all that is required. So, can we look at this to see what can be done to help me for two months? thanks.”

“Dennis, I will look into this immediately,” Travis replied. “This is great news re assets which we all know will lead to Revenue. Can you give me a brief outline of what you might require as assistance for the next couple of months. I have also copied Wilma, so she is in the loop.” (Wilma Ditchfield was the regional director of eastern Canada and first vice-president.) Soon Travis emailed Oland: “Fyi, Wilma is on side we just need to be clear in the ask.” The money was just an advance, Travis testified. Oland would have to pay it back over time, he said. When Weaver asked how, Travis replied that CIBC Wood Gundy would “review” it “going forward,” but he did not elaborate.

“Well to cover costs I am looking at a minimum requirement of $7500 per month,” Oland wrote. “The monthly expense breakdown is like this; I have $4300 spousal/child support payments, $1650 loan payments, plus cash needs for basic living expenses. The ideal amount would be $8500 as this would insure I keep all expenses paid up (general monthly expenses phone bill, power bill etc.) As I said I am grateful for any amount that can be provided. I do not require funds beyond this two months as August income will be fine based on July being a fee month. September is always a good month and then everything comes into place at that time with the new assets.”

Later that same morning, as Oland awaited approval on a salary advance, he and his wife were scrambling to work around their maxed-out $27,000-limit Visas, as a string of emails submitted into evidence showed. The messages, discussing strategies for getting enough money deposited onto one of the credit cards to be able to use it, suggest mounting tension. Just weeks before the trial started, the defence fought to have the emails declared inadmissible by claiming spousal privilege. The Criminal Code protects spousal communications intercepted via a wiretap. Oland’s lawyers argued that the Canada Evidence Act, “properly interpreted,” extends spousal privilege to other forms of information, including emails and texts, which did not exist when either the Criminal Code or the Canada Evidence Act were created. Walsh ruled that he was bound by the Supreme Court’s interpretation that “once a spousal communication is overheard or read by a third party or otherwise lawfully obtained by the police…there is no bar to its admission because of spousal privilege.” Walsh also pointed out that “the legal trend” in Canada and England is away from recognizing spousal privilege at all, “or at least not giving it the prominence the defence would place upon it.” He suggested Parliament would be the better body to determine if texts and emails should be protected.

The first message came from Lisa Andrik-Oland. “I should not have answered my phone earlier when u called, I cannot come across as pleasant cause I am not in a good place. Hannah [Oland’s daughter] prob has flu, and I am very off today! Deadline for Concordia registration is today. I have no money on my visa and I had to wait til today to make a payment. If u add something to your card today will it work?”

“Well, I’d like to at least try something to make you feel a bit better,” Oland replied. “As for visa card. Mine is overdrawn by $650, so I’d need to put more than that on the card just to get it to work. How much is your card over drawn?”

“I am $200 over limit and it won’t reach them within 48 hrs. Internet does not work.”

“Ok, well I’ll go to the bank and deposit what I have and move funds to my Visa. I looked to see why my Visa was so bad and I had not realized the extent of the money that was spent for Montreal, it was $1350.00,” he wrote.

“Wait now, I can’t afford to put the rent check on your card, that’s got mortgage etc. I plan on getting some money back from his father,” she replied.

“Well [how] else [do] we get the Visa to work today?”

CIBC Wood Gundy agreed to give Oland a $16,000 advance; $8,000 per month for June and July, said Travis. But on June 14, Oland emailed Travis, saying he had received only “a bit more than $4000. Can you inquire why it is not $8000. Thanks. Dennis.” “Leave it with [me] I will check to see what the calculations look like,” Travis replied. “The calculation should work out to a net pay of $8000,” wrote Dennis. “Thanks for taking the time to look into this for me.” The next morning, Oland sent another email. “Hi John, I have attached a pay stub for your review, as you will see the pre-tax payment is $7682.27 with net after tax and other deductions coming out to a ‘net net’ of $4429.02. The ‘net net’ needs to be $8000. Thanks.” At 2:32 p.m., Oland emailed again. “Hi John, I am becoming a bit nervous that this issue will not be resolved today. It is essential that the correct funds be placed into my bank account today so that I can honor my commitments that are due today. For example, my support payment is due today in the amount of $4230.00. Also due is a $1650.00 loan payment. Both items are deducted automatically from my bank account and I do not wish to have these bounce. Can you let me know the present status and provide assurances that this will be remedied today. thanks.” Another email from the following morning, June 16, suggested that, despite Travis’s assurances, it wasn’t resolved that day. Travis told Oland the company would “process a top up asap…I will let you know when this is done.”

Oland was less than honest with his wife about that money and his deteriorating financial situation, as the court learned through another email Weaver entered into evidence while she glowered from the front row. On June 16 Oland sent her an email, subject line “$$$,” in which he represented the advance as earned income. He wrote: “Money is a bit tight this month. I had a good pay of $8000 but I need a bit more to cover expenses so that they do not bounce.” He asked Andrik-Oland, who’d had shoulder surgery and wasn’t working at the time, if she could get $1,000 from her line of credit for him to use.

By the following day, Oland’s CIBC chequing account was $776.43 overdrawn, the Crown’s next witness testified. Eric Johnson, a forensic accountant with Public Works and Government Services Canada since 1998, said the Saint John Police Force’s then inspector Glen McCloskey contacted his office in August 2011, seeking help with the investigation. Johnson, who previously worked for the New Brunswick Securities Commission and two accounting firms in Saint John, was asked by his manager to assist. He often works with RCMP on proceeds-of-crime cases, he said. Johnson looked at Dennis Oland’s finances, including his main chequing account, CIBC Visa, line of credit, a collateral mortgage, investment account, and RRSP account, focusing primarily on the period between January 1, 2011, and July 7, 2011, the day Richard Oland’s body was discovered, although he had records dating back several years. He prepared an Excel spreadsheet and PowerPoint presentation to help lead the court through the voluminous financial records he reviewed.

Dennis Oland’s main CIBC chequing account had reached a negative balance of $1,622.38 by July 7. The account had overdraft protection of $2,000, but “rarely had a positive balance that lasted more than a month,” Johnson wrote. “The balance spiked upward when his pay was deposited, but declined as funds were used to pay bills and other living costs.” Between January and July 2011, a total of $102,835.93 was deposited into the account and $102,171.58 was withdrawn.

In 2009 Oland increased his Visa limit from $5,000 in January to $10,000 in February and $20,000 in May. In February 2011 he increased it again to $27,000. The card reached that limit on May 31, said Johnson. The RCMP extracted a deleted text message Oland had sent to his wife from his cellphone that day. “Hi, there is no money on my Visa Card anymore so don’t bother trying to use it,” he wrote. But Johnson’s review showed Oland leaned heavily on cash advances from the maxed-out credit card in the days before his father was killed. He withdrew one hundred dollars per day on July 1, 2, and 3, and on July 6 he withdrew $401.50 twice. His balance reached $32,582.89 — $5,582.89 over his credit limit.

Oland also had a personal line of credit, which was separate from the home-backed line of credit, said Johnson. Oland had increased its limit from $15,000 in 2009 to $35,000 in February 2010. Then, in March 2011, when Oland was just shy of his limit, he used his newly increased secured line of credit to pay it off and to retire a $23,080.55 balance on his Visa, which quickly ballooned back up. Three months later, the $163,000 secured line of credit was also over its limit, said Johnson. On July 7, with the over-limit fee and interest charge applied, the balance stood at $163,939.68.

Oland’s investments were essentially non-existent. On December 31, 2010, he had $13,676.15 in his CIBC Wood Gundy investment account, but on January 31, 2011, he withdrew almost all of it, leaving just $137.47 behind. His RRSP account had only one cent in it on January 31, 2011. On February 14, during tax season, Oland deposited $4,648.37 into the account, but three days later, he withdrew all but $20.13.

Meanwhile, Oland’s income with CIBC was steadily dropping, Johnson found. In 2008 Oland earned about $180,000; in 2009, $110,000; and in 2010, $100,000. Between January 1, 2011, and July 7, 2011, Oland was paid $34,124, with his monthly income ranging between $2,026.68 and $9,450.61. He also appeared to have some rental income, but Johnson couldn’t determine the source. (It was never mentioned in court, but Andrik-Oland owned an apartment building, according to her July 7, 2011, statement to police.) Based on the data he had, Johnson said Oland, who estimated his minimum monthly expenditures totalled $7,500, exceeded his income by $86,848 during that six-month period — about $14,000 per month. Despite his considerable debt, however, Oland continued to live well beyond his ability to pay. He spent more than $20,000 on three trips between November 2010 and April 2011, including twenty-three days in Hungary and Italy, eighteen days in England, and twelve days in Florida, the records showed.

In summary, on July 6, 2011, Dennis Oland owed $32,582.89 on his major credit card, $163,481.02 on his secured line of credit, and $16,000 for the advance on his pay. His chequing account, which was overdrawn on July 5, had a balance of $294.18 after he deposited a $650 rent cheque and $780 in cash. His investment account balance was zero, and his RRSP account had $20.13. He was also two months behind on the $1,666.67 payments to his father.

Oland’s home had been mortgaged and remortgaged several times since the deed was transferred to him and his first wife on February 5, 1998, the land registry documents showed. The first mortgage was for $280,440. That increased to $307,500 in 2003, and $338,500 in 2006, before being discharged on June 3, 2009, with the loan from his father during his divorce settlement.

Even some of Oland’s closest friends didn’t know about this aspect of his life. When asked if he was aware of Oland’s heavy debt load, friend and local businessman Larry Cain replied, “No, not particularly.” Cain noted that in Oland’s line of work, “your earnings fluctuate depending on the state of the market and all kinds of other economic conditions. And, you know, I think at the end of the day that Dennis had some debt, but he was managing.” The defence took the same attitude and attempted to downplay the significance of Oland’s financial squeeze, using the Crown’s own witnesses.

The Crown characterized the $500,000 Richard Oland had given his son as a loan, but Robert McFadden testified that Oland viewed it as an advance on Dennis’s eventual inheritance, and Adamson also believed this to be the case. The principal would be paid off from the inheritance Connie would eventually leave Dennis in her will, McFadden said. Lawyer Gary Miller argued that the $1,666.67 interest payment each month was only to be fair to the other heirs, Dennis Oland’s two sisters. McFadden concurred. The amount, about 4 per cent, was similar to what Dennis Oland would have paid at a bank and similar to what Richard Oland would have made at a bank, he said. Oland did this voluntarily and was “perfectly willing to help his son,” Gold suggested. Yes, McFadden replied.

Nor did Oland seem concerned when Dennis missed payments, Miller suggested. He pointed out that Adamson used the joint office email account to contact Dennis Oland about his post-dated cheques. Richard Oland would have had access to those emails and could have read them, said Miller. He asked Adamson if Oland was upset to learn that his son had missed payments for two consecutive months and apparently delayed providing a new batch of cheques. Had he told Adamson to get cheques from Dennis? No, Adamson said. Richard Oland did not micromanage those payments and wasn’t complaining, she said. She had previously testified her boss rarely even inquired about the status of the interest payments — maybe once or twice over a couple of years. McFadden, too, confirmed that Oland did not express concern about his son falling behind in his payments. He pointed out that the monthly interest was the equivalent of the cost of a dinner on Oland’s sailboat — “Not that big a deal.” McFadden testified that he never saw any animosity, any anger, about the debt.

Gold also noted that it wasn’t the first time Oland assisted his son financially. He helped him in 1998 when he bought his home and in 1999-2000 when he purchased the adjacent farm property, confirmed McFadden. That was the property later sold back to Richard Oland’s real estate firm, Kingshurst Estates, as part of the $500,000 advanced to settle Dennis’s divorce. Nor was this the first time Dennis fell behind in payments to his father. One of the $1,666.67 cheques bounced in July 2010, and in 2002 he had difficulty making an annual payment of $11,000 on the mortgage for the farm property he’d purchased. Adamson confirmed that her boss hadn’t stepped in when the interest payment bounced or seemed concerned about the mortgage. In that case, McFadden told the court, Oland simply added a year to the term of the 1999-2000 agreement. He wasn’t upset? “It was refinanced,” said McFadden. “He was open to modifying terms to accommodate Dennis Oland’s financial situation?” Gold asked. “Yes,” McFadden confirmed. Similarly, when Dennis Oland missed payments in 2007, 2008, and 2009, his father, Gold suggested, “cut him some slack.” “He did,” agreed McFadden.

“So Dennis Oland’s financial situation in 2011 was another year in the life of a man who, since the turn of the century, had been getting help from his dad, right?” asked Gold.

“Correct,” replied McFadden.

“Nice to have a Bank of Daddy, isn’t it?” Gold commented glibly. But he overstepped when he suggested that “it cannot be said these were matters that bothered Mr. Oland,” prompting Veniot to object. Gold rephrased to ask McFadden if he’d ever heard Oland express dissatisfaction. No, said McFadden.

Miller pointed out that Oland himself had experienced financial troubles during the “long, protracted” legal battle with his brother, Derek, over Moosehead shares. Brookville Transport was teetering on the verge of bankruptcy when he sold it (and subsequently went under). In 2006, when the Moosehead split was settled, Richard Oland received a “substantial amount of money,” said Miller. Exactly how much money is unclear because the court records are sealed, but Miller suggested that’s where most of Oland’s $36 million came from. After that, he became “a little looser with the purse strings,” Miller argued, citing his custom-built, state-of-the-art yachts as an example. Maureen Adamson insisted that her boss was always “very careful,” “very detailed” with his money, almost obsessive-compulsive “in some areas,” but she conceded he did spend more after the settlement.

Alan Gold asked McFadden about Oland’s wish to “formalize” the latest financial arrangement with his son with a mortgage contract, a right of first refusal to buy the family homestead, and a domestic agreement between Dennis Oland and his future second wife to protect against any future breakup. McFadden testified that Lisa and Dennis were together during his divorce and the “possibility of a second marriage” was on the horizon. Legal documents were drawn up but never signed, the court heard, but Richard Oland knew that for almost two years, stressed Gold. McFadden agreed this was true.

Gold asked McFadden when Oland last mentioned his son’s debt. McFadden said it was at least six months to a year prior to his death. Gold also asked if he was aware of any occasion when Dennis asked his father for financial help and his father refused him. McFadden said he was not. Gold asked McFadden about the compensation he received for brokering the deal between father and son. “I billed him fees,” said McFadden. He didn’t divulge the amount, but in his statement to police on July 7, 2011, McFadden had said he received between $60,000 and $70,000 and that the legal fees were a similar amount.

Gold turned his attention to the financial implications of Richard Oland’s death. McFadden testified he had received $765,000 to date as co-executor of Oland’s estate and $50,000 as trustee. Dennis Oland received $100,000 and $50,000 for the same roles, said McFadden. Gold did not ask him to explain the disparity. (On redirect, Veniot asked McFadden why he was paid so much more than his co-executor, and McFadden simply said they decided the amounts between themselves. Veniot didn’t press the matter, either.) Neither the Crown nor the defence asked how much McFadden earned as president and treasurer of Far End Corporation and Kingshurst Estates, or as secretary and treasurer of the main holding company, either. Dennis received about $50,000 a year from Far End and Kingshurst, he told officials.

“Richard Oland trusted you and his son when he created his will?” Gold asked.

“Yes,” McFadden replied.

Any changes to his will Oland had considered making would not have cut anyone out or favoured one heir over another, Gold submitted. Rather, he reminded the jury, Oland wanted to set up a family trust to reduce the taxes payable upon his death and an auction process for his belongings to avoid any fights among heirs. McFadden concurred. “There’s nice stuff, and there’s not so nice stuff,” he said.

Being executor comes with duties and obligations, noted Gold. McFadden said that he and Oland discussed his role in advance, and that part of his job was to “preserve the assets.” He dismissed any implication that it was improper for him and Dennis to appoint themselves co-directors of the main holding company and its two subsidiaries. Trustees are responsible, so they appoint themselves as officers because they have that responsibility, he said.

On redirect, Veniot zeroed in on one of McFadden’s answers. When Gold had asked whether there was any animosity between father and son when Dennis Oland missed an $11,000 mortgage payment, McFadden responded, “It was refinanced, yes.” Veniot pointed out that McFadden hadn’t really answered the question, and he asked again: was there any animosity? McFadden paused, chuckled, rolled his eyes, held his hands out, and finally said that it was a long time ago. He told Veniot that he was testing his memory and noted: “If there was animosity, Richard could have foreclosed and taken the property. I would say perhaps he was disappointed, but he said, ‘Fine, let’s just document it and carry on.’” But Veniot did get McFadden to acknowledge that he had no idea that Dennis was borrowing against the home he had already refinanced with his father.

Justice Walsh also jumped in, seeking clarification on the financial arrangement. The $500,000 was an advance on his inheritance, and it was to be secured on a mortgage on 58 Gondola Point Road, he asked. Yes, McFadden affirmed. He asked McFadden if he had “personal knowledge” why Oland wanted a mortgage, an option to purchase, and a domestic agreement between Dennis and “his significant other,” but none of those documents were ever executed. Legal papers were drawn up, said McFadden. Oland and his lawyer drafted the mortgage and option agreement, while Dennis and his lawyer drafted the domestic contract. But Dennis “had some concerns” about the documents, and Lisa Andrik needed time to find a lawyer to review the agreement. Time passed, and the documents just never seemed to get signed, said McFadden. Gold asked if Oland had ever expressed anger that the documents remained unsigned. McFadden said that he had not. “It was more fun building sailboats,” he replied.

The defence also questioned Dennis Oland’s former supervisor, John Travis, about the $16,000 advance on his pay. Travis acknowledged that he had been the first to suggest a cash advance. The markets were poor, and Oland’s numbers were down, he said. Nor was it an unusual arrangement, Travis said. Wood Gundy had done the same thing for other financial advisers on occasion. Similar to clients, financial advisers can be victims to the market, he said, and he noted he would have offered Oland assistance “in some form” even if Oland hadn’t told him that he expected to bring in between $10 million and $20 million between August and September.

During cross-examination of the Crown’s forensic accountant, Gold continued to push the idea that Dennis Oland’s money troubles were nothing new, blaming, in part, his job in an industry full of ups and downs. In fact, the defence asked Eric Johnson to spend his weekend reviewing Oland’s financial records before returning to the stand. Johnson’s review for the Crown had focused primarily on the six months leading up to the murder, but the defence asked him to take a broader view and examine 2009 and 2010.

Johnson found Oland’s accounts were often overdrawn and over limit during those years, as well. On July 7, 2010 for example, Oland’s main CIBC chequing account was $1,553.63 overdrawn; his line of credit and Visa were $35,098.04 and $23,128.07 over limit, respectively; his investment account had only $650, and his RRSPs stood at $70. His spending exceeded his income by about $129,000 during the first six months of that year, in part because of a trip to St. Maarten that resulted in foreign currency transactions of nearly $9,000. In July 2010 Oland bounced a $1,666.67 payment to his father on the $500,000 advance — just as he had in July 2011, said Johnson; the court had already heard about that bounced cheque during Adamson’s and McFadden’s testimony. In addition, Johnson found $75,000 originally counted as 2008 income from CIBC Wood Gundy was actually a loan from his employer, to be paid back over ten years — meaning his debt was even worse than initially thought.

Gold suggested Oland could have solved his financial problems in 2011 by borrowing more. He asked Johnson if he found any evidence indicating Oland sought to increase his line of credit and been refused. Johnson said he did not. But the Crown maintained the accused’s financial situation was particularly dire just before his father was bludgeoned to death. His line of credit and credit card debts were mounting, he owed $75,000 to CIBC Wood Gundy, and he’d received a $16,000 advance on his pay. But Oland’s take-home monthly income was averaging only about $6,000, said Weaver. That meant that after the father of three paid his child and spousal support and the interest payment to his father, he had less than $100.33 a month to pay for everything else.