Chapter 7

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Friday, December 10

At twelve noon there wasn’t a soul to be seen at the pit. People were getting tired of the situation. My phone rang.

“Hello, Dutch, you over yet?”

“Yes, just got here, Joe.”

“I’ll be late coming up. I have someone dead. They’re not waking until tomorrow afternoon, so I’m just doing the embalming. I’ll finish up tomorrow before lunch, before the reposing. So I’ll be up sometime this afternoon. Did you hear anything else on the flooding issue?”

“No. You’re the first one I spoke to today.”

“Okay, have to go.”

“See you when you get here.”

I saw Brenda turning into the pit. She parked in front of me, got out of the car, and came over to my side window.

“Dutch, what are you at?”

“The same thing that you and I have been at for the last six days.”

“So, fill me in on what you said on the phone last night. Curiosity kept me awake most of the night.”

“That old curiosity. Killer, ain’t it? Get in.”

“Hang on, I have to grab me smokes.”

“Brenda, you’re not smoking in my car.”

“Duh, I know that, Dutch. I can stand by the side of your car and have a smoke while you fill me in on what it is that is supposed to be so interesting.”

“You might need it after I tell you the rumour I heard. Apparently they’re bringing over the Witless Bay volunteer fire department to assist the cops in flooding Leo’s house.”

“WHAT? Who’s bringing them over?”

“The RCMP. That’s the rumour.”

“Who the fuck told you that?”

“I promised not to repeat their names. I’m like the CBC reporter that was up to Ann Marie’s the other night: I don’t reveal my sources. But I will tell you that the person is someone who volunteers with the fire brigade.”

“Holy Jesus, Dutch. Well, wait until that news gets out.”

“Apparently they’re trying to keep it quiet.”

“Well, they’re not doing a very good job of keeping it quiet.”

“I think they have crucified Leo enough.”

“And now bring in water to flood and destroy his mother’s house.”

“Nothing has surprised me with this standoff.”

“Dutch, they got to try something. We’re technically a full week watching this now. Who ever thought that Leo would still be in that house looking out at the cops? And beating them at every tactic they try.”

“I agree with you.”

“Can you believe it? We’ve spent a week in this gravel pit.”

“Yes, and it’s not over yet.”

“The only thing we’re missing is a camper or old bus.”

“Then we’d actually be gravel pit campers.”

“Never thought of that, Dutch.”

“Had we known this was going to be on the go this long we could have set something up to hang out in. Somewhere to cook up a fish stew or moose stew. With a bit of Newfoundland and Irish music. Yes, and then the Conservative Government would want us out. As we know, they don’t like gravel pit campers.

“There wasn’t much in yesterday’s newspaper on the big assault on the house Wednesday night. I can’t believe the media weren’t here. They missed some opportunity for pictures and video.”

“Someone said yesterday that they brought in a second robot.”

“So, Leo may have damaged the first one. Looks good on the cops. Can you imagine what kind of head Leo has on him, listening to that repeating itself all week? Sure, that would drive anyone nuts.”

“I know that robot didn’t cost a pretty penny to build.”

“Sure, it has everything on it. Lights, PA system, camera that the operator can see with, that arm that can hold stuff. And apparently that arm has something on the end of it that can cut rope and steel cable. So, I guess if someone gets a hold of it and ties it on, it can get itself free. But if it gets tipped over it’s fucked. It’s supposed to be very heavy. I’d say it would take a lot to tip it over. If I was a betting man, I’d put my money on Leo that he would tip it over if it gets close to him.”

“Dutch, where’s Joe he’s not up here yet?”

“I was just talking to him. He has a body to do. He said when he finishes the embalming he’ll be up.”

“He’s been lucky. This has been a very quiet week at the funeral home.”

“Yes, it has, thank God. If Joe couldn’t come up here and keep an eye on the situation he would crack up. He’s worried to death about Leo.”

“Dutch, why didn’t you go into the funeral home business?”

“I couldn’t get along with me old man that long.”

“Know why, Dutch?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re too much like him.”

“Now, Brenda, you trying to piss me off? Brenda, when I go home for a bite to eat lunchtime, I’m making a sandwich to bring back for my supper.”

“Why?”

“Well, who knows what time they’re planning on turning their hoses on the house? I don’t want to miss it.”

“Never thought of that, Dutch. I might do the same thing.”

“It would be the smart thing to do. They might only hose the house for a few seconds, to let Leo know they mean business. And to give him the opportunity to come out. To surrender. And if he doesn’t come out quickly, then they might blast the house non-stop for God knows how long. Probably hours. Apparently the average hose on a fire truck shoots 100 gallons of water per minute. And I don’t think they’ll have much problem reaching the top windows in that house. I learned that when I did the firefighting course, which was a part of the basic survival training course for the offshore. I did that course four different times. First time was in 1984, and then I did it again in 1998, 2001, and 2004. A very physically hard course, but something that’s a must. You do the firefighting, advanced first aid, CPR, and egress training, which shows you how to get out of a helicopter in an emergency situation. And lifeboat training, too. A very expensive course, but one that could save your life.

“Brenda, you know as well as me that if they set those hoses on that house that will be the end of it.”

“But Dutch, what exactly will they do with the water?”

“I don’t know. But I’m guessing they’re going to blast one of the windows, most likely an upstairs window. That will flush him out if he’s on one of the lower floors, the basement or the first floor. And if they do that they’ll flood the whole house, even the top floor. The second they stop the water it will start to freeze. Everything in the house will bust up. It’s going down to minus five tonight. All the lumber will press apart, separate. That house was built over fifty years ago, so it won’t take a lot of water to destroy it. The basement will be flooded. Their well is in the basement, if my memory is correct. That will be ruined. The furnace in the basement will be ruined, also. I hope they have given this idea some serious thought. That house was built in the 1950s or 1960s. And they’ll destroy it in five minutes with water.”

“Two minutes sounds more like it.”

“What a sad thing to do to a house belonging to a woman in her mid-eighties. They won’t live it down. This will be a blight on the RCMP forever in Newfoundland. They will lose so much respect. It’s hard to believe the once-proud Canadian institution has lowered their standards to this. They will lose respect not just with the residents of Bay Bulls but the whole island. And with Canadians, for that matter. Many Canadians are watching this story nightly on the national broadcasts. And online, too, with all news stories going up as fast as they read it on air or show it on TV. When people see that on the national news they’ll shake their heads in disbelief.”

“Dutch, I won’t believe it until I see it.”

“Brenda, I hope I don’t see it. I pray I don’t see it. It will be a wild thing to see. It will be like something you’d see in a movie, not something you would see here in our little community of 1,200 people. I have never heard of the RCMP ever doing anything like this before. Certainly not in our province.”

“But Dutch, how many times have the RCMP spent a week trying to get someone out of a house? One person.”

“I don’t know about getting someone out of a house. But did you read the book on Albert Johnson, the Mad Trapper of Rat River, by F. W. Anderson? The RCMP chased him around the Yukon and the Northwest Territories for over forty-eight days before they killed him in a shootout.”

“Never heard of it, Dutch.”

“There was a movie made about it. I believe Lee Marvin played Johnson. And Wilf Carter wrote a song about it, called ‘The Capture of Albert Johnson.’ You should pick up the book. I got it at Michael Donovan Public Library on Topsail Road, across from New World Fitness. And go on YouTube to listen to Wilf Carter sing the song.”

“I’ll have to do that.”

“The movie was good. I watched it over twenty-five years ago.”

“So I guess Leo will be our own Albert Johnson, a cult hero. Especially in Bay Bulls.”

“Brenda, you mark it down. I bet Con or Arthur O’Brien will write a song about all this and Leo. Or the new Irish band that just started up, with a bunch of teenagers in it. Murphy’s Reel, two of Ronnie Power’s sons, Daniel and Sean, and Roger Williams’s daughter is the lead singer, I believe. Her name is Hilary. And a young fellow by the name of Michael Carter from Witless Bay. Glen’s son. And the name of it will be something like ‘The Standoff in the Harbour.’ I’d say there’s people writing poems about Leo as we speak. We have some smart and witty people in Bay Bulls. And, might I add, musical.”

“Joe is coming up the top road.”

Joe pulled in the pit like a madman, obviously afraid he might have missed something. He got in with me for a change.

“Hey, any movement over at Leo’s?”

“No, Joe, very quiet.”

“What about down at the town hall and over by Foodland?”

“All quiet.”

“Dutch, the story you told me last night is apparently true.”

“Joe, you can speak freely. I told Brenda the whole story of what I heard.”

“Brenda, isn’t that the wildest fucking story you’ve ever heard in your life?”

“Joe, if they go ahead with that, people will be very upset with the RCMP, destroying a woman’s house to get her son out of it. It’s not even believable, Joe. You wouldn’t be able to write that for a script for a movie. It would be a B movie at that.”

“Brenda, try and keep this between us. We don’t want to be responsible for starting rumours. And you know how rumours get started in Bay Bulls and can continue on forever.

“Listen, I’m like everyone, I love a bit of news and gossip. But never, and I mean never, do I repeat anybody’s name that tells me anything. Especially if it’s juicy. And that Facebook. Boy, you got to be some careful with that. The stuff people put on that is not fit. People tell their whole life story on that. There’s one woman here in the harbour who holds nothing back. She almost tells how often she has sex with her hubby. She always got the poor mouth. Jesus, sweetheart, we don’t need or want to know all that stuff. TMI—too much information. People are after telling her to tone it down, but it is just as well to talk to the white llama that Spinny O’Driscoll has watching over his herd of sheep.”

“Brenda, you on Facebook before you came up here today?”

“No, Dutch. Why?”

“There’s a Leo Crockwell fan page started. And there was a nice picture of Leo. And the picture wasn’t one that all media outlets are using this week. So I’m curious where they got the picture.”

“I knew it, Dutch. I knew one of them evil young fellows here in the harbour would do something like that.”

“Well, it was started 3:10 a.m. this morning, and when I left home at around eleven this morning there were fifty-eight people that requested to befriend Leo. Brenda, I’m telling you, by twelve o’clock tonight that will be up to 500.

“Sure, everyone in Bay Bulls and Witless Bay will join it. I know Leo won’t get some laugh over that. Too bad his power is cut. Imagine the postings Leo could put up. That would be priceless. All those cops out in his yard trying to get him out of his house and he in there posting freely on Facebook. Wouldn’t that be wild. Yes, and what a slap in the face it would be to the cops. Every time they tried something and it didn’t work, then Leo could post about it. Man, what a laugh that would be. I wonder if we could get a battery in to him? I’m sure he has a laptop. Sure, if he didn’t I’d lend him mine. I’m not using it much this week. There are a lot of people around this community who are not stuck on their computers or watching their TVs this week. I’d be a little nervous, though, that the firemen might get it wet tonight.”

“Yes, Dutch, that and everything else in the house.”

“Good point, Brenda. Where’s Sharon?”

“She said she had to bring Peanut over to be trimmed today. Over to Sharon Pottle’s in Witless Bay.”

“I heard a few people say that she does very good work on dogs and cats. She’ll prune your bird—I mean your budgie bird—if you want to bring it to her.”

Brenda laughed. “Dutch, where is she located in Witless Bay?”

“She works out of her parents’ house, in the basement. She’s down by Mr. Smart’s house behind Alderwood Estates, the retirement home.”

“Haven’t seen the Smarts in years. Where are they all to now?”

“Kevin Jr. is in Toronto running a fish-smoking business. He smokes mostly salmon. I guess we’ll have a few beers tonight, it being the weekend and all.”

“Sure, why not? Sure, even if this standoff wasn’t ongoing, we’d still be having a few beers somewhere in the harbour. Sure, it’s the weekend.”

“I have to go to the airport tonight for Tina. She’s getting home from New Hampshire, with my credit card probably melted.”

“Dutch, that’s your own fault for letting her have it.”

“Well, she was doing a lot of Christmas shopping. Mostly stuff for the girls. So, one way or another I’d end up paying for at least half of it. But her with my card on her own—I have a feeling I most likely paid for more than half this Christmas.

“But I’m not too fussy about going to the airport. I’m afraid if I go to the airport, with my luck, the second I leave the water starts flowing. Here for seven days and then, when the big stuff starts, I miss it because of an airport run. I don’t think I’ll be going. I may have to bribe Stacie to go. But I hate to have Stacie driving late at night because of the moose on the highway. Hopefully Hollie will go with her, a second set of eyes.

“I’d like to find someone with a 500 or 600mm lens. Or someone with a video camera with a decent lens on it. Imagine the pictures that would be available to get, spraying water this time of year. With the cold weather there will be a massive fog spray coming off the water. Especially with the construction-type lights that are lighting up the house from the back of it.

“I may try to get a nap this afternoon. This could be a very long night. Who knows what the outcome will be. The big question is, will Leo just walk out the front door with his arms raised in the air?

“For some reason, I doubt it. And I bet the cops, or the majority of them, are doubtful that will happen. They spray water on that house tonight, you mark it down, Leo will do something. He’s held his own against them so far. So they do the water thing, he will excel. You mark it down. I’ll say it again, probably for the tenth time since this standoff started, they’re not dealing with the average person.

“I wonder if the media got news of this yet? I kind of hope they have. At least we’ll have some good pictures of the dousing of the house. And evidence of the destruction they caused. Crockwells may need them for their court case, for when they sue them for destroying a home that is over fifty years old, belonging to a woman in her eighties. I said it sometime this week, this will be a big black eye on the RCMP. Not just the local RCMP, but the whole force. Nationally.”

“Dutch, I noticed Michael brought over a trailer to block the top of St. John’s Road. When did he bring it over?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“Who owns the trailer by the old Foodland?”

“That’s the recycling company, NLL Recycling, that Don Drew works for.”

“Did they tell Michael how long they need it?”

“I don’t know. I’ll ask him suppertime. I guess these trailers will free up some RCMP members to get some rest. I’m kind of surprised they didn’t think of them earlier.”

“I agree. They have to be some burnt out. At this seven full days around the clock. I’d say it’s starting to show on them. That’s why I’d say they’re going to use the water. If that doesn’t get him out, what will?”

“There’s no way that Leo can’t get drenched, Joe.”

“Why, Dutch?”

“Well, I’m thinking they will flood the house through the windows upstairs. So that will flood the two lower floors and flood them big time, and in a hurry. So that means Leo will have to hightail it to the top floor. And if they flood the top floor, they’ll be aiming for the full length of the corridor running down the middle of the house. That will fill every room upstairs with water. And I’d say they’re going to pump in thousands of gallons. There will be feet of water on that top level. Leo will have to sit on top of a high bureau. And there’s no way that he expects something like this to happen. Who would?

“I hope for Leo’s sake that he’s keeping a lookout on Bernie Mullowney’s side of the house. At least, if he is, then when he sees the fire truck coming up the road he can react.”

“React what way, Dutch?”

“I don’t know. I guess time to get his oil clothes and rubber boots on. And find something to get his feet and himself off the floor.

“If they had to do a survey in the harbour and ask people how they would get Leo out of that house, I doubt if anyone would have thought of water. I certainly would never think of it. So we know where this water idea came from. Where? One of the cowboys they brought in from the other provinces. You mark it down. Personally I don’t like the idea. As we all know, it will definitely destroy the house. But it may work. As much as I hate to say it, I’m surprised one of them never suggested setting the place on fire. They may try that next if this doesn’t work. Yes, and then they would really need the fire department. A legitimate fire call. Not something like this.”

“Dutch, don’t say that out loud either.”

“Say what out loud?”

“About setting the place on fire. People will start to wonder about your mental state.”

“Joe, who ever thought that they would pump copious amounts of water into a woman’s house and destroy it? Now put that in your pipe and smoke it, Joe. That’s twice this week you’ve said that to me and I’m starting to dislike it. So fuck off. I’m going the fuck home out of this.”

“Dutch, cool down. He didn’t mean any harm in what he said.”

“No, Brenda. But I hate people talking to me like I’m a child. I’ll see you later.”

“Dutch, maybe a good nap is needed. You’re stressed out big time after watching this all week.”

“I agree. And spending this much time with my brother. Any brother, for that matter. I’ll see you later. Brenda, be here by dark, because who knows what time they’ll start spraying the house.”

“Okay. See you later.”

I drove home to Witless Bay and called Annie when I got there.

“Annie, I’m going to lie down for a few hours. Give me a wake-up call around five, please. I’m afraid the alarm on my cell won’t ring.”

“Okay. I’ll have supper cooked and ready around five or five thirty.”

“Good. That works out perfect. I’ll eat and beat it back to the pit. You’ve been some good to me all week since Tina left.”

“Only returning the favour. You’re good to my grandchildren.”

“Aww, how sweet of you to say that. That just put me in a good mood. I’m having a rough day.”

“What put you in the bad mood?”

“Joe. He analyzes everything I say. Treats me like a youngster. I believe he knows that I’m not ten or eleven anymore. I put up with that bullshit when I was young, but no more. I’m sick of it. This lasts much longer, me and Joe won’t me talking to each other anymore.”

“But Chris, you’re on the go non-stop since this started. This is taking a toll on you. Get in that bed and put all this out of your mind for a few hours.”

“It’s hard to. There’s something big going to happen tonight. I’ll fill you in on it when I come down for supper. Okay, don’t forget my wake-up call. Bye.”

I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. It was Annie.

“Chris, time to rise and shine.”

“Okay, thanks. Be down to your place in a few minutes.”

When I walked into the kitchen at Annie’s, she was there tending to the pots on the stove.

“Hey, how was the nap?”

“Excellent. I’m not a big daytime sleeper, but I have to say that nap was excellent. Where’s Michael?”

“Out in the garage.”

“Who’s over there with him?”

“Paddy Pullcord. Cecil and Tommy are over having a look at what he’s at. I believe he’s working on one of the tractor trailers. Replacing a rear end, I believe.”

“Michael replacing a rear end? I thought he was all but retired. Where’s Dean?”

“He’s gone to Bay Roberts for a load of fish. Mackerel, I believe.”

“It’s late for mackerel.”

“They figures it’s most likely the last load for the season.”

“Did Dean get a chance to go moose hunting this morning?”

“He was down in Gallows Cove for a few hours.”

“Did he see anything?”

“No, but lots of signs of moose. He’s going back down tomorrow morning. Robert is not working tomorrow, so I believe he’s going to go with him.”

“They’ll get one. They have a little over three weeks left. Lots of time.”

Michael came into the kitchen in his coveralls, full of grease.

“Okay, Dutch Ryan, fill me in on what’s happening in Bay Bulls.”

“Not a lot since the big attack on Wednesday night. But apparently they’re supposed to flood the house tonight.”

“What?”

“Yes, using the volunteer fire department. The volunteers are going to bring over the truck and show and assist the police in how to use the equipment.”

“Who came up with that?”

“Michael, who knows? I guess one of the experts they brought in from Hali-fucking-fax, Nova Scotia.”

“Sure, Dutch, that will destroy the house.”

“Michael, you and I know that. I guess they’re so fed up with nothing working they’ve probably said the hell with it. ‘If we have to destroy the house to get him out, so be it. We’ll deal with that issue down the road.’”

“Who will pay for that, if and when they destroy it?”

“I’m guessing the Department of Justice.”

“Federal or provincial?”

“Very good question there, Mr. Harrigan. I don’t know what department that would fall under.”

“Chris, I take it you’re not going to the airport.”

“Definitely not. I’m going to ask Stacie to go, and maybe Hollie for the second set of eyes for moose. I hate to have her driving that late at night, but I can’t miss it if they hose that house down.”

“Well, hardly. You’ve been over in that pit for the full week since this all started. What time are they going to start spraying the water?”

“We don’t know, but we’re expecting anytime after dark. I guess when the volunteers get home from work. A good many of them work in town, so by the time they get home for a bite to eat, I’m thinking an hour or two after dark. Thanks so very much for supper. See ye later.”

“Bye, Chris.”

I drove back to the pit. When I got there, Joe was back from supper, too. I got in with him and gave Stacie a call.

“Hey, Stacie. Can you go to the airport for your mother, please?”

“Yes, not a problem.”

“Ask Hollie to go with you. A second set of eyes wouldn’t hurt. Tell her I’ll pay her. I know she’ll want something for going.”

“I’ll ask her.”

“Your mother gets in at 12:30 a.m., so you could leave around 11:40.”

“Okay.”

“Take your time. If it takes you an extra ten minutes, Mom will still be there when you get there. Okay, thanks. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Hey, Joe, any sign of the fire truck yet?”

“No, but I have my eyes glued on the town hall.”

“I’m sure they will have to go there to be debriefed. I’d say every one of them that will be on the truck will have to be debriefed, most likely.”

Jeff opened the back door of Joe’s SUV and hopped in. Kevin Plumber was right behind him.

“Well, boys, we have a crowd tonight for the waterworks show.”

“Yes, a show none of us wants to see.”

“You said that correctly, Jeff. I guess we’ll witness something that we will never see again in our lives. Volunteer firemen helping the RCMP destroy someone’s house because they were asked. I always thought they volunteered to save homes, not destroy them. When the RCMP called them they should have said, ‘No, thank you. We are not going to help you destroy someone’s house because you ask us. We are volunteers. We have no boss. We volunteer because it’s the right thing to do for our community. Go get the professional firefighters from St. John’s or even Mount Pearl to do it. Firefighters that can’t say no.

“‘Excuse me, Mr. Policeman, we have to live in this community. Fine for you, you’ll most likely be on a plane out of here within hours of this standoff being over. And maybe never to return. We have an oath of office, much like yourself, Mr. Policeman. And our fireman’s oath of office says we will protect life and property, not destroy it. We answer to no one other than ourselves.

“‘I speak on behalf of all crew, men and women, who volunteer for our regional firefighting brigade. We will, under no circumstance, have anything to do with destroying a resident’s home in our community. We joined this brigade to save homes, not destroy them. Thank you for the invite to the party, but my crew and I will not be attending.’

“And that should have been the end of it. One phone call. With a respectful NO.”

“Dutch, you just put that in fine order.”

“It’s not about putting anything in fine order, Jeff. It’s about using common sense. It’s a fact. This has been on my mind since I heard it. I won’t believe it until I see it.”

“Well, word on the street is you will see it in an hour or two.”

“I don’t want to see it, for so many reasons. One, they’re destroying a home belonging to a woman in her eighties. A home she lived in for over fifty years. The home she raised her children in with her late husband.

“And the second reason is I don’t want them to corner Leo in any more than he is already cornered. There has to be a better solution. Like, lets try some locals again on the PA system. Won’t cost anything to try. They did that for the first day or two. They shouldn’t have given up on it. I don’t care if they have to bring the Pope from Rome to get on the PA system. Do whatever it takes. Too bad we never knew this earlier. I would have organized a protest. With placards saying, ‘Please Do Not Destroy This Woman’s House.’ There has to be a better solution than this.”

“Dutch, you’re a shit disturber.”

“No, I just say what has to be said. I hold nothing back for anyone.”

“We’re in for a night to remember. Wait and see them turn those fucking hoses on that house.”

“Leo will retaliate. How, I have absolutely no idea. But he will reward them with something. Hasn’t he every time yet? On my scorecard he’s batting a thousand.”

“This most likely will be the most exciting and interesting night of this standoff. Tonight will overshadow Wednesday night.”

“And if this overshadows Wednesday, it’s a night I don’t want to see or to be witness to. A night I don’t want to remember. A night I can live without seeing.”

“This might just be like the shootout that the RCMP had with Albert Johnson, the Mad Trapper of Rat River. They never had a fire truck to hose him out, so they blasted him out with dynamite. And the dynamite didn’t kill him. He still fired back at them when they flattened his cabin.

“I don’t expect Leo to fire at anyone tonight. But like the dynamite, with Johnson, I don’t think the water will upset Leo too much. Won’t make him any more upset than he already is.”

“When the phone went in through the living room window on Sunday morning, that upset him. That was the real start to this. So anything more won’t get to him.”

“Jeff, here’s twenty bucks—run up to Paddy’s and grab me a half, please. I don’t want to leave, I may miss something in the scope. Joe, you want a Pepsi?”

“Okay.”

“Kevin, you want something?”

“Do not. I’ll be having a beer or two, compliments of Dutch Ryan.”

“Now, Kevin, there are only six in it. And it will be a long night. So you should grab a half.”

“No, I’m driving.”

“Okay, Jeff, half Canadian Light and a Pepsi. Grab something for yourself. Sharon and Brenda just pulled in in front of us. Jeff, ask the girls if they need anything at the store. I bet they’re already sipping a beer or two on a Friday night. And so they should be. Been a long week. Everyone deserves a few beer after a hard week’s work.”

“Dutch, none of you work.”

“Well, this is harder than work. Here some days eighteen to twenty hours. I never worked as hard offshore. But those were only twelve-hour days.

“Thanks, Jeff. Ah, nice and cold. Paddy has the coldest beer on the shore, God love him.

“Joe, town hall, quick. What’s the big truck that just pulled up in front of the building?”

“Dutch, you can see that better than I can with the scope.”

“Bingo. Pumper . . . fire truck. Looked like four or five people walked from it towards the town hall.

“So I guess the rumour is true. We will see police, with the help of volunteers, destroy a house tonight. I’d say they’re gone in there to be debriefed. If I was a volunteer fireman there’s nothing that could convince me to do what they’re about to do. I mean absolutely nothing. And I’m sure there were firefighters who did not show up for this event. More or less ignored it. Ignored the call.

“I’m guessing all or most of them don’t know Leo. Don’t know him like we know him.

“Well, I tell you what: they will. And his lawyer, when the Crockwells take the RCMP to court for destroying their house. Which there is a high probability they will do. I’m willing to bet someone on that fire brigade will be on the stand, being asked by the lawyer for the Crockwell family something like, ‘Can you tell me why you accepted the RCMP’s request to help them destroy Mrs. Crockwell’s house?’ Bob Simmonds will have a field day with them. If not Bob, one of his partners. Erin Breen or Rosellen Sullivan. Or the new fellow that’s with the firm. I believe his last name is Ralph. I see him on the news every now and then talking about people who have mental health problems who are charged with crimes. He’s involved with one of the mental health groups. He knows his stuff. I believe the group he is involved with is called CHANNAL—Consumers’ Health Awareness Network of Newfoundland and Labrador.”

“Dutch, why do you think he would use that law firm?”

“Why? It’s simple. Bob Simmonds and his partners have the best record of success in Newfoundland and Labrador. Especially if it’s a criminal issue.”

“Dutch, I agree with that.”

“He’s always on the TV representing someone. And when he cuts a deal, it’s a very good deal most of the time.”

“Thanks, Kevin. Good to see you’re paying attention.”

“Now, Dutch, you’re not the only news junkie in this rig.”

“No. But the smartest.”

“Now, Dutch, you’re piling it on thick tonight.”

“Boys, anyone timing how long they’re in the building?”

“I’m betting forty to forty-five minutes.”

“Kevin, imagine if one of those firemen gets hurt during this operation. You want to talk about a lawsuit. I’d say this is a first in Canada. Bringing in volunteer firemen to assist police in destroying a home rather than try to save one.

“Man, the media will have a field day with this story. Not just our local media, the national outlets as well. This is a separate story, over and beyond this standoff. Think about it. Where has this ever been seen before?

“Boys, don’t get me wrong, I have a lot of respect for the Witless Bay volunteer firemen. They do yeomen service for our community and ask for nothing in return. They spend a lot of time training, time spent away from their families. Getting out of bed all hours of the night, and in all kinds of weather, for fires and car accidents. Not knowing what they’re going to see or have to do when they arrive on site. Some stuff they see at car accidents I wouldn’t want to see. But I wish they had said no to the RCMP. They could have, as volunteers. They answer to no one. Not the mayors, not the MHA, or the MP. I mean absolutely no one. They answer to themselves.

“Joe, I’d say VOCM will be on the horn to you in the morning.”

“And I’ll still say the same thing as I said the last time they called: no comment. I’d tell them to go back to the news bag they’re getting their information from.”

“Boys, the truck is heading for St. John’s Road. They’re going some slow. There are no less than three Suburbans tailing it, all black. Reminds me of a funeral procession. I’d say that truck is full of water, that’s why it’s creeping along.”

“You mean they’re not using the hydrants?”

“They definitely will, Jeff. That truck will drain pretty quickly, in ten minutes or less. I’d say they’re planning on putting in more water than what’s in that truck. We’ll have to sit back and watch the show.

“Okay, they’re on the right-hand side of the hangout, in Bernie’s yard. I can see all hands moving around the truck with flashlights. They’re pulling hoses off her, rolls of them.

“Joe, look at the hydrant. There are four people there. One of them is holding what looks like a long wrench. Looks like a Johnson bar. Or a torque wrench. You see it? See the stacks of rolled hoses?”

“Yes, I see both.”

“One of them just laid down another roll of hose next to the hydrant. Notice there are three cops holding shields. No, I’m wrong—four cops. They’re staying between the people at the hydrant and the house. I’m guessing they’re all cops.”

“Dutch, those shields won’t be much good if Leo starts firing.”

“Joe, from what I understand those shields are bulletproof.”

“I see them, Dutch. Man, these binoculars are deadly.”

“Imagine trying to look at that house all week with no binoculars, or cheap ones. It would not have been an enjoyable week. You’ll have to buy a set of them. I see water running. You notice it, Joe? There was a big spray of it.”

“Yes, saw it.”

“Look, look! They’re spraying the house. Upstairs window. Glass didn’t take long to shatter.”

“I’d say not, with that force. It would flatten a very big man.”

“Joe, notice the spray coming off it. Like a fog. I forget what they call that, but there’s a name on it. Yeah, water freezing in mid-air. How much water is going into that house! I’d say that truck is pumping eighty or a hundred gallons a minute. Where is Leo in all this? I hope he’s not wet.”

“Dutch, I’d say it’s impossible for him not to be wet.”

“If he’s not wet, he has to be after climbing into the attic.”

“Never thought of that. Well, it’s either that or sit on a tall bureau in a room farthest away from the side of the house that the water is flowing into.”

“I can picture Leo in there with rubber boots on, Joe. The type Newfoundland fishermen have worn for generations. And a complete set of oil clothes. I said the same thing earlier about oil clothes. He may be doing better than we think. Tell me there’s not three or four feet of water on that top floor.”

“Probably more, Dutch.”

“Keep an eye on the top windows. We may see water flowing out through them.”

“Dutch, you tell me that they’re not after aiming for the ceiling where the water is going in?”

“I’d say they’ve already thought of him going to the attic. The poor fella. My heart is breaking for him. If he gets wet he’s fucked. He’ll freeze to death. It’s below five Celsius out. And a little windy.”

“You might say a little windy. It’s blowing thirty-five kilometres an hour from the northeast. You factor that in with the temperature and it will definitely be colder than minus five tonight. What a night he’ll punch, if he’s wet.”

“I’d say he’ll sit and freeze to death rather than walk out for those bastards, Jeff. He’s that determined. He’ll never let them say they won this battle. They’ll find him in a sitting position, probably on an upside-down five-gallon salt beef bucket, or a steel tar bucket, froze solid. Like when they found most of the seventy-seven sealers from the sealing vessel SS Newfoundland who froze to death, may their souls rest in peace. Froze in the last positions they were in when they closed their eyes. The great sealing disaster of March 1914. Actually, that was only one of the great sealing disasters. We have had a number of them over the years. May their dead rest in peace.

“Tonight I actually feel hatred in my heart. And I can honestly say before now I hated no one. Never have. Joe, don’t get me wrong. I have respect for the cops, but I’ve lost a lot of it this week. And now we have our friends and neighbours helping them do their dirty work. I wonder, if this was one of their brothers, nephews, friends, or neighbours, would they be doing this tonight? I doubt it.

“I bet they’re over there with all their big guns focused on the house. Waiting for Leo to walk out from the silhouette of the spray coming from the hose. They’ll freeze in position like the sealers if they think that Leo Crockwell will give in and walk out that easy.

“I’d say their adrenaline is flowing, much like us when we aim for a moose or caribou. I know I shake as soon as I see the animal. Boys, don’t get too excited. This could take longer than they expect. They’ll have to pump water until daylight.”

“You mark it down, Dutch. If I had to bet, I’d say that Leo is as dry as us. Dry as a church mouse.”

“How long have they been there?”

“Twenty minutes, I’m guessing.”

“Well, they started the water flowing at approximately five to nine. And no Leo yet. Hey, cops . . . getting nervous, boys? I’d say they are. They’re starting to wonder where the fuck he is, why he hasn’t come out. He’s not going to stroll out with a big hug for you all. He’s in there planning his next move. Or probably in the middle of his next move. What I wouldn’t pay to know what he is at this exact minute.

“Pump, boys, pump. If they see Leo tonight, it will be in a picture. Yes, and a picture with him smiling. Or the picture now on Facebook.

“Joe, roll up the windows and turn on the heat. I’m burnt from the cold. Imagine how cold the firemen and the cops on the hoses are over there. They’re not cold enough for me.”

“Starting to snow. Man, I hate snow.”

“The Inuit don’t. They have fifty-two words to describe it. I hope their pumper breaks down. Like the breakdown of one of the pumpers that was sent up from St. John’s to assist the volunteer fire department at the second fire at the Bay Bulls fish plant in 1995. The city charged us, the Town of Bay Bulls, for two pumpers, with only one working. We went to the fire chief in Witless Bay, Randell O’Rielly, to confirm that only one of the two pumpers had worked before we brought it to the attention of the St. John’s fire department. They said it was an oversight. Oversight my ass. And if the volunteers have a breakdown tonight, then they would have to go get one from the St. John’s Regional Fire Department, where the RCMP should have gone in the first place. Not volunteers or equipment belonging to a volunteer department.

“Another thing I’m wondering. Did the cops go to the mayor of Witless Bay or the regional committee that oversees the operations of the fire department with their request to use fire department equipment and the volunteer firemen?”

“Good question, Dutch.”

“And I’m also wondering if they spoke to the mayor of Bay Bulls, Jeff.”

“Why the mayor?”

“Bay Bulls subsidizes the fire department in Witless Bay. It’s not just a Witless Bay fire department, but a regional department that covers the area from Bay Bulls in the north to Bauline in the south. And I’m betting if they asked the mayor he’d have told them he would leave it up to the firemen themselves.

“Some of these volunteers probably haven’t sat back and thought about what they’re actually doing tonight. Their hearts wouldn’t be in it, but they wouldn’t refuse when asked by the RCMP. All I can say is, boys, put yourself in their shoes, or, rather, their rubber boots.”

“Good way to put it, Dutch, even though it was sarcastic. But a good choice of words.”

“Thanks, Kevin. When this standoff is over, I’m going to try to find another situation where a police force, specifically the RCMP, have ever done something like this before.”

“You mean destroy a house using water with volunteer firemen assisting them?”

“Yes. I’d say I’d have to look very hard to find another example. If I do a freedom of information search to the RCMP, or to the attorney general, I’d find something. That will give me something to do all winter, a good use of my time. Okay, Joe. Windows down. I’m warm now. You warm, boys?”

“Yes, we are.”

“Speak for yourself, Jeff. I’m still cold, Joe.”

“Kevin, you can’t still be cold. What are you made of? Joe, I have to look with the scope. We haven’t looked in a while. Geez, the damn window, now!

“Thanks, Joe. They just stopped pumping. About time. They’ve been at it non-stop for thirty-five to forty minutes. I’d say that basement is full of water. Only so much will seep through the ground, and once the ground gets soaked like a sponge, it won’t hold any more water and will gather in the basement. We can’t see from here, but I’d say there is water coming out through the basement windows. Kind of like the reverse of a boat sinking. Water coming out through a window instead of going in through it.

“It’s starting to freeze. The second they stop, that house is ruined, destroyed with the assistance of our regional volunteer fire department, that pledges to save life and property. So much for property. Imagine, all Mrs. Crockwell’s stuff ruined, her heirlooms collected for the last sixty-plus years, things passed down from her mother, and all of Dermott’s military memorabilia. They say Dermott had a lot of military mementos, including pictures taken during the Second World War. Impossible to replace. Memories of her life with her late husband. Stuff her grandkids would have given her. A home she lived in for over fifty years. The home she raised her children in. A sad day in the history of our proud town. I could cry thinking about it.

“It would be different if her house was destroyed in the Hurricane Igor storm in September. An act of nature. Not a lot you can do in a situation like this. Someone blatantly destroys your house, it’s not like you can go to your insurance company. What do you tell the insurance agent when he asks what happened to your home? ‘Oh, uh, my local fire department destroyed it.’ Then he would say, ‘Oh, so you had a fire?’ And you say, ‘No.’ The fellow on the other end of the phone up in Ontario or wherever would ask you to repeat it again. How would you explain this to someone who knew nothing about it? He would think he was talking to someone in a psychiatric hospital. Or the person he was talking to was pulling a prank.

“And it’s not like the community can start a fundraiser. It’s not like something Bay Bulls wouldn’t do. They’ve done it a number of times in the past for homeowners who have lost homes due to fire. But why should they now? When the government of our great country destroyed the house. They should be made to replace every item that was destroyed. Not that I wouldn’t help with the fundraising. Or give to the fundraising.

“I guess every time Leo hears the Ron Hynes song ‘House’ he’ll get a bad feeling.”

“Dutch, you’re getting pretty deep.”

“I know, Kevin. I have to change the topic before I get depressed.”

“Boys, where do you think Leo is in the house?”

“I don’t know, Jeff. But if I had to bet I’d say he’s drier than either one of us. And I’d bet big money on that. No, really, think about what it’s like in there. Temperature below zero, ice on everything you touch, wind howling through the place from all angles, water up to your ankles, in some rooms up to your knees. Sounds, loud and strange, coming in from the outside. Not a place I would want to be in. Not a place any human being should be in, definitely not in a civil society. But civility has been put on the back burner since some overpaid, so-called expert came up with the stupid idea of destroying this home. It should have never come to this.

“Think about it. Seven days. Everything in their tool box has been thrown at him. And still no Leo. So do you think a few thousand litres of water are going to move him? I think not. I wouldn’t bet against him.

“When this is over, whenever that may be, I’m going to rent every action movie that Stallone ever made.”

“We should plan that, Dutch.”

“My house some night, with a few beers. On the big forty-two-inch plasma, with surround sound. Those movies will remind us of Leo. Imagine sending a manuscript of this standoff to a production company in Hollywood. I could see someone putting this standoff in a movie format. Like I said earlier, they have made action movies out of stuff with less action than we have seen here in our community this week. And it’s not over yet. So the ending of this could be movie-worthy. Think about it.”

“Dutch, you got that old brain working overtime tonight.”

“My brain wanders every now and then, so don’t take everything I say to heart. Some of it is off the wall. Actually, a lot of it is off the wall. There goes Stacie. Take your time, Stacie.”

“That’s her going down the top road?”

“Yes it is, Joe, and she’s going too fast for my liking.”

I grabbed my cell and phoned Hollie. “Hollie, tell Stacie I said to slow down! It’s pitch-black out, and there could be moose on the highway anywhere going out the road. Especially up around Con Brien’s hill. Tell her I’m scoping you guys going up the Pinch.”

“I’ll tell her. Where are you to, Chris, that you can see us?”

“Hollie, haven’t I been in the gravel pit since last Saturday, since this standoff started?”

“Chris, I don’t know where you’ve been all week. I just know you haven’t been at our house much. And it’s some nice and quiet without you around.”

“Geez, thanks, Hollie.”

“Well, it’s true, Chris. I had the TV to myself all week. You know how you hog it.”

“Well, I’m here in the pit all week. That’s why you guys are going for Mom. Tell Mom I’m sorry I couldn’t pick her up.”

“Chris, you know Mom, she’ll be pissed that you never went and picked her up. You know how sooky she gets.”

“I know that, Hollie. Hollie, tell her that there was too much excitement here. Bye, love you.”

“You too, Chris. Oh, Chris, I forgot to tell you that Laura came with us.”

“Which Laura?’

“Your favourite Laura, Laura Dillon.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

I hung up and went back to chatting with the boys. “Boys, how long they stopped?”

“They must be stopped ten or fifteen minutes. I’d say that long at least.”

“I’d say they’re froze to death, Kevin. You know they’re getting somewhat wet. And with these temperatures tonight, wouldn’t be hard to get cold.”

“Looks like there are a few bodies gathering around the hydrant again.”

“Yes, Joe. There they go again. More water. As if there wasn’t enough in the house already. Someone time them.”

“Done.”

“I guess they had to stop for their coffee break. As we know, cops don’t miss their breaks. Having watched these boys in action all week, we know that for a fact. We could time them going around with their treats to their co-workers, the boys parked in cars and the sharpshooters behind Leo’s house. This standoff has been very good for the economy of Bay Bulls.”

“You said it, Dutch.”

“When this is over, the town council should give Leo a citizen of the year award for helping the economy of our town during a very slow month of the winter. They have given them to people for less.

“Water stopped again.”

“Dutch, I’d say that’s the end of the water for tonight.”

“Joe, if we added up the amount of time they’ve been at it, I’d say they’re nearly an hour in total. How many gallons of water are in that basement at all?”

“Good question.”

“I’d say they’re after pumping 60,000 gallons in. And I mean gallons, not litres.”

“Or more.”

“I guess we’ll know eventually, Joe. I’ll be talking to a few of the boys in the next day or two. I’ll know then.”

“That will be a good conversation.”

“No, not going to say a word about what they did. They know what they did. They don’t need me to remind them. They will hear that from more than me in the future about this. You think I’m the only one around this community who’s not thinking the same thing?”

“Yes, Dutch, people might think it. But will they say it?”

“Something said carries a lot more weight than something thought and not spoken. Listen, boys, you know me. If I think of something, I say it. I hold nothing back. Never kept quiet in kindergarten, I’m not about to start being quiet now. Heading towards fifty. And I will have my say on this standoff when it’s over. Leo won’t be able to defend himself. So, he’ll need family and friends to defend him.”

“Why don’t you think he can’t defend himself?”

“He certainly can speak for himself, Jeff. You think he won’t be locked up after this is over? Like I said earlier, and I may have said it in this rig, they will try to throw the book at him. It will amount to nothing, a couple of petty charges. Leo didn’t turn this into the fiasco that it has become. We know who did.

“Okay, let’s start focusing on the show. I can talk forever when I get going.”

Brenda and Sharon pulled up beside Joe’s SUV and rolled down their window.

“Hey, girls. Wild night, hey? Like never seen before in Bay Bulls. Were you up to Ann Marie’s?”

“Yes, Dutch. A fine crowd up to Ann Marie’s. Lined off with cars from one end of Irish Town to the other.”

“I figured there would be, what with it being Friday night and a waterworks show on the go. So what’s on the go behind Leo’s?”

“Nothing, but you could see the hose spraying. The spray in the air is much larger from Ann Marie’s. Actually, I’m amazed at how large it is. They had the hose on full force. There’s a lot of water after going into that house.”

“Like I said a few minutes ago, I’m figuring 60,000 gallons of water has gone in.”

“I wouldn’t argue against you on that, Dutch.”

“Those firehoses are, like, two and a half to three inches in the round. Going for how long, the best part of an hour? Do the math. Whatever it is, it’s a hell of a lot of water.

“There’s a lot of people watching this tonight. Just scan the harbour with the binoculars, Joe. Look up in Irish Town. They’re parked bumper to bumper. Indicators and tail lights everywhere. There must be ten or twelve cars down by Uncle Tom’s. There’s park lights on in cars all over the harbour. You’d swear this was New Year’s Eve, with everyone awaiting fireworks.

“Truck is backing up. Yup, they’re leaving. Their job is done. But the big question is, did they get Leo yet? If they had him, by now we would be hearing it on the radio. We’ve had VOCM on since we got here. We’ve heard the news four or five times since the water started flowing. And nothing on Leo, not a thing. And if it was on another radio station, someone would have called us. So that tells me he’s still in the house. He never surrendered. As we expected him not to.

“Listen, if he surrendered, the two cars by Sharon’s would have moved, or we would have at least seen their headlights when they started up their vehicles. I’ve scanned them a hundred times since this started tonight and those cops did not move, except for getting out a few times to stretch their legs. I saw one vehicle go to them about two hours ago, most likely dropping off coffees. Stopped at both for a minute or two and then left. The vehicle turned right onto St. John’s Road, went across Foodland’s parking lot, took a sharp left at the bridge, and went down Cemetery Lane East, back to the town hall.

“I wonder, will they try it again tomorrow or tomorrow night? They might do this non-stop until Leo walks out. Sure, the house will turn into a grounded iceberg. It will freeze like a berg and get a little bigger every time they spray it. It will grow to titanic proportions before this is over. Fine for the weekend. But those firemen have jobs, so they won’t be here come Monday morning. If they don’t get Leo this weekend I’d say he’ll be pretty safe come Monday. Tomorrow will be the start of week two.

“Okay, I can go home and go to bed. And see my baby. She should be home soon. And it’s pretty quiet over to Leo’s. I’m wondering, will they start that annoying robot again? If I had to bet, I’d say definitely.

“Boys, you heading home?”

“May as well. All the excitement is over for tonight, Dutch.”

“I’m coming back early in the morning, just in case they start driving water in again. See you in the morning, Dutch.”

“See you tomorrow morning, Joe. Take the scope. Actually, if the water is flowing when you get here, call me.”

“Okay, will do.”