Chapter 4

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Tuesday, December 7

“Dutch, get up, it’s seven o’clock.”

“What? Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“I figured you needed the sleep.”

“Jesus, Joe.”

“On the go so much since this all started with Leo.”

“Have I missed anything?”

“No, very quiet.”

“I’m going to boil a few eggs, okay? I’ll be over in half an hour. See you then.”

“I wonder, will this end today? We’re into our fourth day. How long will this go on? I only hope it ends peacefully. For everyone involved, Leo and the police.”

I drove to the pit from Witless Bay. There were strange cars parked there. Joe was there, by himself. I parked and got in the back seat of the SUV and took the scope from him.

“Joe, anything happening since I was talking to you? What about the snipers . . . they in position?”

“Everything looks like it has since this started.”

“Sharon or Brenda on the go yet?”

“No, haven’t seen them yet.”

“Who owns all these strange cars?”

“I don’t know who any of them are. I’d say they’re people from up the Shore, people heading to St. John’s to shop and run errands, and they decided to pop up here for a look.”

“Sure, Joe, I’d say they’re as inquisitive as we are. We think there are a lot of people keeping up on this since it started. Imagine something like this happening in places like St. Anthony, Port au Port, or Frenchman’s Cove. Little towns like that, with very little excitement. Especially this time of year. Sure, most of their populations would be on the hills or in their local gravel pits. Much like us here today. Most of the people in those towns are seasonal workers, working in the fishery. Either crabbing or working in the local crab plant. The majority of our townspeople work in St. John’s.

“We think this is big here. Imagine how big it could be somewhere else in our province.”

My phone rang.

“Hello, Jeff. What are you at?”

“You in the pit?”

“Yes, just got here.”

“Anything big happen last night?”

“They cut the power. The whole harbour was black for three or four minutes.”

“Why did they do that?”

“I don’t know, but I’m guessing they pulled the wrong switch. Anyway, they lit everything back up and then shut down St. John’s Road and Irish Town Road. When they turned those areas back on, Leo’s house was in total darkness.”

“Jesus, poor old Leo. Window beat out of the front of his house. Power cut. What’s next, I wonder?”

“Jeff, they’re fooling themselves. The more they do to him the more determined he will be. I said to someone the other day, ‘You get more flies with honey than vinegar.’ I guess the RCMP never heard that saying before. Jeff, got to go. Bye.

“Joe, back up a little, you’re ahead thirty feet from where we’re normally parked. Holy shit, Joe. Did you notice the SWAT team members on the side of the garage? The side facing Bernie Mullowney’s.”

“No, I never noticed.”

“Here, use the scope.”

“Jesus, Dutch, they’re like flies. There must be at least six of them there. How did they get that close to the house?”

“Joe, there are eight there. I don’t know, but if I had to guess I’d say they drove up St. John’s Road and pulled into Bernie’s yard. Leo wouldn’t see anything from this side of the house as the old games arcade between his house and Mullowney’s would block his line of sight of anything coming up St. John’s Road. That’s if he is downstairs in the house, which is where I’d say he is. Then they snuck over to the garage closest to Bernie’s and then advanced to the next garage closest to the house.

“I wonder if they’re planning an assault from that angle? They look like they mean business. They’re covered in black, everything they’re wearing is black. Even their faces are painted black, and their helmets. Four of them are carrying what look like assault rifles. Whatever type weapon they are, they’re very short. And they’re even black. I suppose they’re AK-47s. Isn’t that what police use?”

“I have no idea, Dutch. Not that much up on the police.”

“I know Leo’s not gawking at them. I guarantee you, he knows they’re there. There’s something up for them to be that close. I’m going to call Ann Marie. I’m wondering if she can see the cops on the side of the garage, the garage closest to the house.”

I dialled Anne Marie’s number. “Ann Marie, have a look out your window towards Leo’s garage. The garage closest to the house. There are a bunch of SWAT team members hanging around the garage.”

“Hang on, Dutch, let me have a look. I can see one every now and then. Hang on, I can see two.”

“Actually, there are eight there.”

“What?”

“We were shocked when we discovered them there.”

“Who saw them first?”

“Actually, I saw them in the scope as soon as I arrived. Joe was here a half-hour ahead of me. He missed them, but he was only using the binoculars.”

“Dutch, what do you think they have up their sleeves?”

“I don’t know. But why, after three days, have they suddenly appeared there? I’m willing to bet they’re planning an assault on the back door sometime today. Most likely tonight.”

“Well, if you think they’re going to attack tonight, why are they there now?”

“I’d say they’re there to get their bearings. A feel for the surroundings. To get some measurements. Find out how long it would take to get to the back step from the garage. Exactly how many steps they would have to take. I’ve read over the years that they’re meticulous about everything. They have to know their complete surroundings. They have a checklist that they follow before attacking. And apparently they have to have something like nine out of ten things done before advancing. If they don’t have the nine out of ten, they work the scenario from a different angle.

“I’d say they have one of those rangefinders. They tell you the exact distance you are from the target. I bet they know the exact measurements of each step, every footstep from the garage to the house. And the elevation of each step.”

“Dutch, that makes sense. But I’d expect them to have a forward assault in the dark. Kind of gives them an advantage. And Dutch, you know as well as me that they have night-vision gear.”

“Never thought of that. But it makes good sense. Ann Marie, you keep an eye from your angle and if we see anything from our angle we’ll call you.”

“Okay, Dutch. Drop up later for a coffee.”

“I will, most likely. Bye. Joe, I’m half thinking Leo might have night-vision gear as well. The price of night-vision gear has dropped drastically in the past four or five years. It isn’t out of reach of the common person. When that stuff first came out you couldn’t look at it because of the price of it. It was cost-prohibitive. We might be surprised at the gear Leo has. Probably better than my scope and binoculars. I wonder would Leo go birdwatching with me when this is all over?”

“Dutch, Leo doesn’t come across to me as someone who would be going around looking for little birds in the bushes.”

“Why not?”

“Drop it, Dutch. You’re starting to sound foolish.”

“Sure, Joe, you should come with me someday birding.”

“Not on your life. If I go looking for birds, it will be to shoot them.”

“Typical Newfoundlander, you have to shoot everything that moves.”

“Now, drop it.”

“All right, b’y. I was only trying to be nice, inviting you to come with me birding.”

“Dutch, drop it! You and your fucking birdwatching. I’m some sick of hearing about birds the last twenty years. Sure, it would drive you nuts. Now drop it.”

“Okay, b’y, relax. Joe, this is soon going to explode. These cops are into their fourth day. They can’t leave him there too much longer. I’d say this is the start of the end.”

“Dutch, you fucking stupid? How many fucking times have I got to tell you, the ending of this is not up to the cops. It’s up to Leo when this will end, and on his terms, not theirs.”

“All right, boy. Don’t blow your top.”

“I’m not blowing my fucking top. I hate repeating myself.”

“Joe, you got to get some sleep, b’y. This lasts much longer, you’ll be in the Waterford. Almost every topic we bring up, you flip. Time to chill, my man.”

“Anyway, when I went home last night one of the boys I used to work with at Caul’s Funeral Home had left a message for me. I called him back. He told me he came in on a flight from Halifax late last night and that there were at least twenty cops on the flight. Half were wearing the full RCMP uniforms. The rest all had the typical short haircuts. And they all were sitting together, so he took all of them for RCMP members.”

“You telling me that they had to bring in cops from the mainland to get one man out of a house? Another Newfie joke. I can see that in the Globe and Mail in the next day or two. ‘RCMP in Newfoundland request the help of their brothers in Maritime provinces to get one man out of a house.’”

“Dutch, think about it. How many officers can they spare for this standoff? There must be thirty or forty cops here. They’re taken from somewhere, which is leaving posts vacant somewhere.”

“I guess you have a point. Never really thought about it. I have to call Brenda and tell her what she and Sharon are missing.”

I dialled Brenda’s number. “Brenda, get out of the bed. You’re missing it.”

“Missing what?”

“There are six, sometimes eight cops on the side of Leo’s garage, the side towards Bernie Mullowney’s.”

“Which garage?”

“The one closest to Bernie’s.”

“What? When did they make that move?”

“I got here about half an hour ago, and as soon as I hauled in I noticed them. They’re fully dressed in SWAT team clothing. Where’s Sharon?”

“We had a few extra beer last night. I’d say she’s sleeping it off.”

“Go get her and get up here. Joe and I are thinking that there’s a possibility they may attack sometime in the next few hours. If they don’t it’s because they’re there familiarizing themselves with the surroundings.”

“Be there in a half-hour. Jesus, I don’t want to miss anything after spending so much time watching this since it started.”

“Okay, see you when you get here. Bye. Joe, you seeing anything in the scope?”

“Not really, they’re just there milling around. Two left and went down the road in the Suburban, the blue one. The black one is still there. I’d say they’re gone down to warm up. Imagine how fucking cold it is standing down there with the wind blowing. I’d say it’s colder than yesterday. I know how cold we are here sitting in the cover of a vehicle. They’ll deserve every bit of overtime they get for this stakeout.”

“Joe, there are no less than four blue Suburbans in the harbour since this started. I counted six black ones yesterday, too. How many vehicles are in the harbour since this all started?”

“I don’t know, but someone said that they’re all gassing up into Vincie Crane’s North Atlantic.”

“He’s making a killing off this standoff. Yes, if he’s not making it on gas, he’s making it on a wing and a potato. Imagine the gas they’re burning. Sure, those two vehicles up by Sharon’s are running ninety per cent of the time. Talk about polluting the environment. I guess Leo trumps the environment this week. They don’t give a fuck about the environment so long as their asses are warm.

“I wonder if they’ll use the robot today? They haven’t used it in the daytime yet, so they may use it today. There’s definitely something brewing. All those cops are not standing by the side of that garage for nothing. I’m wondering if they’re just standing there to try and intimidate Leo.”

“Never thought of that.”

“Kind of showing off their strength in numbers. That won’t bother Leo. They could stand every cop that’s in the harbour in his front yard and, knowing Leo, he would just laugh at them. He’d say something like, ‘Enjoy your fucking overtime, pigs. And GET THE FUCK OFF MY PROPERTY!’

“Joe, I’d say Leo is writing down everything that’s happening since this started. I mean everything. Every word that was said by every person who was on the PA system. Like when they sent in the robot. When they change out the snipers at the back of his house. They said he took dozens of pages of notes during his release trial in 1998. It was reported that he took more notes than Jerome Kennedy.”

“Dutch, I said it when this started, that the cops were up against one smart and tough individual.”

“I’d say smarter than he’s tough. And we know how tough he is. You mark it down, Leo will make them look like fools by the time this is over. Didn’t he in ’98? He said to me a dozen times that he thought they had it out for him, and by Christ, wasn’t he right. If someone else had a domestic dispute with their sister, do you think the cops would have handled it differently?”

“Definitely, Dutch.”

“This standoff has become what it is because of who they have cornered in that house. Cops don’t forget. You embarrass them and they will get you. It may take a few years, but they’ll be back. Look at the Drukens. One of them jaywalks downtown, they’re getting a ticket. No questions asked.

“Don’t get me wrong. I have respect for the RCMP, and all police for that matter, but some stuff they do is certainly questionable. Definitely how they’re handling this situation is. All Leo needed was a little time to cool down. The cowboys from Ferryland or Holyrood could have had him out of the house and this would not have turned into the fiasco it is. If Ferryland cops had to be left alone to handle this, all they had to do was wait for Leo to make his daily run to Tim Hortons in Goulds. And then all they had to do was box him in with a few ghost cars on the highway. He wasn’t up in a window brandishing a gun, threatening people on the street. He was in the house being silent. If they had to take their time they would have had him by seven or eight o’clock the day it started. Or the next day. End of story. Instead of having him in that house being terrorized.”

“If Ferryland and Holyrood officers never had to call it in to HQ in St. John’s they would have gotten him out themselves.”

“I agree with that, but they have protocol to follow. They had no other choice. It was not up to them. Anything and everything big like this goes through RCMP headquarters in the White Hills. But when you think about it, that’s wrong. If the Ferryland cowboys had to ask a few people about Leo, or for that matter ask one of his buddies like you or myself to go in and have a chat with him, we most certainly would have. And then they could have had Leo in detention in an hour or two. This standoff was not handled properly from the get-go.

“Joe, you think someone is not going to answer for what this has become? We should not be here today. And poor old Leo shouldn’t be over there in that house freezing to death, with the window beat out of the front of it, with the wind blowing through the place. And with no heat for the last day or so.”

“Dutch, don’t fool yourself. Leo is a lot tougher than those cops. He’ll keep this going all week and into next and the week after that, if he wants. He could have replaced Sylvester Stallone in Rambo. What a soldier he would have made. Actually, his father fought in World War II. Have you ever seen all the medals Dermott was awarded? I saw them on him a few times down at the Remembrance Day services, down by the old parish hall. Before he passed away. Rumour had it he saw action a number of times.”

“Getting back to Leo. A pity that he didn’t go into the military. Didn’t his brother Francie enlist when he was eighteen or nineteen? Joe, you remember that?”

“I do. But apparently he only lasted a few years. I think he dropped out because of injuries. Or got an honourable discharge.”

“When the news of the cops by the side of the garage gets around the harbour it will block this place today. No one knows they’re there yet, really, other than us. And you know how rumours spread in Bay Bulls.

“Joe, here, take the scope. I brought the attachment to connect it to the window. Wind up your window about two inches. Slip it down over the glass and screw it tight. Not too tight, you might shatter your window.”

“Why didn’t you use it before?”

“I forgot it. Remembered it last night when I was online looking for another set of binoculars.”

“Why are you buying new binoculars?”

“I’m looking at a pair of Swarovskis EL 10x42s. I’m waiting for the price to drop on them. They’re nearly $2,600, plus tax. But they’re worth every cent.”

“Dutch, you’re nuts to pay that much for a pair of binoculars.”

“Joe, you haven’t used Swarovskis. In comparison to these Bushnells, it’s like going from a Chevy Chevette to an XJ8 Jaguar. They’re so smooth, with the focusing wheel. They are so much brighter. You can see much longer coming on dark than with any other glasses. The best glass in the world is used in them. You could look through them for hours and hours without any negative effects. Much longer than the Bushnells. The best binoculars in the world, hands down. You watch Nascar? Keep an eye on the spotters for the drivers. The majority of them have Swarovskis hanging around their necks. It’s been a dream of mine to own a pair since I started birding. All the top birders around here have them.

“Can you imagine what it would be like here without these high- powered binoculars and the scope? Sure, we would have missed ninety per cent of what’s going on over to Leo’s. Just as well we stayed home and waited for updates on the tube.

“I wonder how we’re going to find out why the cops are there alongside of the garage? Who do you think would know?”

“Dutch, they’re not letting out any details on their strategy. Sure, anyone could be relaying messages to Leo with a cellphone. Dutch, you think the cops don’t know by now if Leo has a cellphone? I’m sure they know by now, and if he does, guaranteed they’re after blocking his number.”

“Are they allowed to do that? I guess if they get a court order they can do whatever they want. You know how they abuse those court orders. I blame that on the Department of Justice and the judges sitting on the bench. Have you ever heard of a judge refusing a police force a court order?”

“I have. But it’s very rare.”

“Do you remember the time they bugged the fellow’s phone in Witless Bay? Should have never been allowed. It wasn’t his phone, it was his mother’s. And I say if a phone is not in the person’s name you’re investigating, then you should not be allowed to bug it.

“I said it here the other day, or it might have been yesterday. I respect the RCMP and police in general, but some of the power they have is questionable. Way too much power. Sometimes it feels like we’re living in a communist country. Joe, anything happening over there?”

“No, not really. The two cops that left earlier are back and two others have left.”

“I said that, didn’t I, that they were taking turns, going down to the town hall, warming themselves up. They’re all wishing and wondering when this is going to be over. I’d say some of them are going on very little sleep every day. That’s why they brought in the extra cops from Nova Scotia. Who ever heard of it, cops from outside of the province coming into our province to do police work?”

“Dutch, it’s no big deal. They’re a national police force.”

“Yes, Joe, but their detachments are not in Newfoundland, they’re in Nova Scotia. Or whatever other province they brought them from.

“I’d love to know exactly what the numbers are of cops in Bay Bulls at any given minute. I’d say Janet O’Brien or Sandra Cahill would know. They’re the clerks for the council. Actually, Janet is town clerk and Sandra is assistant town clerk.

“Someone said that the RCMP wouldn’t allow either of them into the building. Apparently Janet would have none of it. She told them that there are bills and the mortgage has to be paid monthly. Apparently, Harold spoke with the most senior officer in charge and he allowed her one hour in the office. And he told Harold that if it’s still going on in two days that she could have another hour.

“Apparently they blocked out the glass around her office. You know the glass that was put in place instead of walls around the clerks’ office? Rumour has it it was all covered by brown paper.”

“Dutch, who told you that?”

“Actually, I was talking to young Neily O’Brien last night on Facebook when I went home. That’s what his mother told him after she got home from the town hall. I guess they don’t want anyone other than police officers knowing what exactly is going on in there. I can’t wait for Sharon to come up. I wonder if she noticed the brown paper around the clerks’ office the other day when she was in there trying to get Peanut? Yes, she’d know. But knowing Sharon, she wasn’t worried about what was around the clerks’ office. All that was on her mind was Mr. Peanut.”

“Where are they?”

“Who?”

“Sharon and Brenda.”

“Brenda said she was going to get Sharon out of the bunk. Knowing Sharon, she has the house phone off the hook. Door locked. And Judy is gone to work. Sure, Sharon might be in the bunk half the day. Her loss. Finally getting some movement with the cops and she’s asleep. Joe, put the scope on the cliff. That looks like Brenda’s car going down the harbour.”

“Where?”

“There, by Mike Deagan’s house.”

“I don’t see it.”

“You fucking blind? Pick up the road by the church, by the cannon gates, and follow it with the scope until you catch up with the car. Do I have to give you lessons on how to use a spotting scope? You’ve had that in front of your face long enough to know how to use the goddamn thing. You’ll know her car by the box of tissues she has on her back dash. On the right side.”

“Okay, okay. That’s Brenda’s car or one identical to hers.”

“Joe, look at the back window. You see a box of tissues? The box is blue.”

“Okay, Dutch. Keep your cool. It’s Brenda.”

“You don’t miss much with cars.”

“Lord grant me the patience to get through this, before I lose it. There’ll be two people locked up by the time this is over, Leo in jail and me in the Waterford.”

“Guaranteed she had to go down and beat on the door to get Sharon out of the sack.”

“If Sharon misses the assault on the house she’ll flip.”

“Her own fault. Why did she have to overdo it with beers last night? A weeknight.”

“Well, Dutch, one turns into two, two turns into three, and so on and so on. Don’t you go saying anything to her about beer. She’ll flip.”

“Yes, and then we’ll have to listen to her all winter about how we never got her out of bed when something big started to happen. I’m not a babysitter. My days babysitting are almost over. Stacie just finished college and Hollie is in grade eight, so my babysitting will be very limited going forward. I babysit Rogan every now and then when Wanda wants to go for a run.” Wanda is Tina’s sister; Rogan is Wanda’s son.

“Dutch, when did Wanda start running?”

“She’s at it around three years. She does the Tely 10 road race every year, and every year she beats her time from the previous year.”

My phone rang. It was Sharon.

“Hello, Dutch, what’s up?”

“Oh, finally got out of the sack, did ya?”

“Fuck off, Dutch. I wants none of your bullshit this early in the morning.”

“Sharon, it’s almost noon.”

“Any details?”

“What did Brenda tell you?”

“She told me something about cops being alongside of Leo’s garage. That’s all she said. She had to take off and go get the mail in Witless Bay.”

“Well, when I arrived around eight, as soon as I looked in the scope, first thing I noticed was six SWAT team members by the side of Leo’s garage. On the side facing Bernie’s.”

“What do you think they’re up to?”

“I don’t know, but if I had to guess I’d say they’re having a forward assault on that back door sometime today.”

“Jesus, Dutch, don’t tell me that. I was hoping Leo would just walk out with his hands in the air.”

“Sharon, you’re dreaming in Technicolor. You know as well as me that Leo is not walking out with his hands in the air. Not going to happen. Not going to be done. I’d bet on it. You coming up?”

“Yes, but I have to grab a shower. Be there in a half-hour.”

“Okay, see you then.”

A short while later I saw a car driving up the cliff.

“Joe, have a look on the cliff. Looks like Sharon’s car coming up the harbour.”

“That’s her car, Dutch.”

“Keep an eye on her to see if she goes into the town hall.”

But Sharon passed it by and came straight to the pit. She parked in front of us and came over and got in Joe’s SUV.

“Dutch, anything happen since I was talking to you on the phone?”

“Nothing, really, other than the cops by the side of the garage relieving each other every twenty to thirty minutes.”

“Why are they doing that?”

“I’d say they’re taking turns warming themselves up down at the town hall. Few beers last night, did ya?”

“Dutch, what did I tell you on the phone? Shut up. I’m not going listening to you all day. I’ll drink how much beer I wants. Now that’s the end of it, all right?”

“I just like riding you.”

“Well, ride someone else, not me. My fucking head is killing me. Joe, who ever thought this would last four days?”

“Sharon, I knew when this started that them getting Leo out of that house was not going to be easy. It would be a monumental task.”

“How the hell are they going to get him out?”

“Again, that’s one of those million-dollar questions.”

“There seems to be a lot of them since this all started.”

“Where’s Brenda? Didn’t take her this long to go get the mail in Witless Bay.”

“She’s giving her grandmother, Mrs. Annie, a run out to Bidgood’s for a few groceries. We’ll all be out to Bidgood’s for groceries before this is over.”

“Ridiculous that senior citizens have to leave their community to travel out over the highway for groceries. I know the few convenience stores around have some things, like bread and butter. And canned stuff. But meats and chicken and the like can only be gotten at a supermarket.”

“And, Dutch, a lot of seniors don’t drive or don’t have a car.”

“You’re right on that.”

“I still can’t believe that Foodland is closed. What about inconveniencing customers? What about the twenty-five or thirty people working there? The big question is will they get their cheque for this week? Not their fault that Foodland is closed. And I know there are young people working there raising children that can’t afford to lose a week’s pay. I guess the Department of Justice will have to step up to the plate and pay them. That would be the right thing to do.”

“Yes, but how long will they have to wait?”

“I’d expect Foodland to pay them up front and then go after the government to be reimbursed. To me, that would make the most sense.”

“Stuff that makes the most sense in Newfoundland is not always practised in Newfoundland. Especially when dealing with government. And we all have many cases from experience that we could put on the table for discussing.”

“Where do you think Leo is at in the house?”

“I’d say he’s in the basement.”

“Why?”

“Why not? Down there with the door sealed, with rags or tape. That grey stuff, duct tape. I wouldn’t be shocked if he had a hidden room down there, waiting for the day that this would happen. This is like a mini-Waco. You remember the shootout in Waco, Texas, don’t you?”

“I remember a little about it.”

“David Koresh. A raging madman. Leader of the Branch Davidians, a fanatical religious group. The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, the FBI, and the Texas National Guard had a shootout with Koresh and his followers, which started on February 28, 1993, and ended fifty days later on April 19. With eighty-six people dead. I believe they ended it by bombing him out of his bunker. He had a bunker built into the side of a hill. Kind of like a big foxhole. A cave.”

“You can’t compare this to Waco, Dutch. Waco was many years in the making.”

“Leo was twelve years in the making.”

“You can’t say that, Dutch.”

“Why can’t I? I said here the other day that Leo always thought the cops would be back for a go at him. I’m surprised it took them twelve years. Why do you think they sent in the SWAT team snipers so fast? If that had been anyone, and I mean anyone, other than Leo Crockwell, they would have waited for a few hours to get the person out. I could see if he was up in the window brandishing a weapon, threatening people. Then the action they took would be called for. Well, they should have sent in the RNC. Actually, that woman cop—Debbie Moss, I believe, is her name—didn’t she get him out in minutes from her initial contact with him on the phone? When he was detained in 1998?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Well, she could have done in minutes on Saturday what twenty RCMP couldn’t do in—how many days are we here now? I believe it’s four. Bay Bulls is in the RCMP jurisdiction of Ferryland. Then why were the Constabulary here and arrested him in 1998? You answer, Joe. You seem to be knowledgeable about all this.”

“Dutch, the Constabulary came and arrested him on February 27, 1998, because the issue with him started in their jurisdiction, St. John’s. Remember, at the Newfoundland Hydro building?”

“Oh, that makes sense. I always wondered over the years why the Constabulary and not the RCMP arrested him back then.”

“Actually, Dutch, the RCMP were sitting in Anthony’s yard for backup the night the Constabulary arrested Leo back in 1998.”

Anthony O’Brien’s is the old name of the Sapphire Pub. It was called that from the end of World War II until it was sold in the late 1990s.

“Dutch, did they force Junior O’Driscoll to move out of his house? There was talk of it the other day.”

“I don’t know. Joe, remember to remind me to ask Jeff when he gets here from school.”

“I’ll try to remember it. But my head is gone trying to remember stuff.”

“Don’t worry. I’m like it, too, and I’m seven years younger than you.”

“Sure, boys, there are days I hardly remember where my house is.”

“Sharon, that’s not memory loss. That’s called the beer.”

“Dutch, for the third time today, fuck off. You’re an annoying little prick when you wants, aren’t you?”

“Sharon, what beer do you drink now, Labatt’s Light or Bud Light?”

“Who cares what label is on it? Beer is beer. So long as there’s alcohol in it.”

“Good point.”

“I wish Brenda would come on.”

“Why, you don’t like our company?”

“Joe is all right. You’re a mouthpiece. Dutch, I can just handle you on a good day and today is not a good day. You lips me up again, I might drive me fist down your throat.

“Come on, Dutch. You promised me the other day that you would talk to the cops for me concerning Peanut.”

“All right, let’s go. Your car or mine?”

“Mine.”

“Okay.”

Just as we were leaving, Brenda showed up. The three of us jumped in Sharon’s car and headed to Foodland. When we got there, we noticed a female RCMP officer standing beside a Suburban cruiser. I decided to try our luck with her. Sharon pulled the car over and we rolled down our windows.

“Good day, Officer. My friend Sharon is wondering when she can go to her house and get her dog. The poor animal has been in the house alone since this standoff started. It’s not good enough!”

“Hang on, let me ask.” The officer jumped in the Suburban. She got out a minute or so later.

“Okay, I was just told that you will get your dog sometime this afternoon. Drop back here and see me. Me and no one else, around three o’clock. I assure you, you will get your dog today. This is the first I’ve heard about your dog. Had I known this, you would have had your dog before now.”

“Thanks, Officer. We’ll see you later.” We rolled the windows back up and Sharon started for the pit.

“Sharon, she wasn’t hard to get along with. At least she sounded sincere.”

“All the other cops just bullshitted me.”

“Like I said the other day, women cops are great to deal with. They’re not going around with their chests stuck out. They know how to deal with people. I guess it’s the motherly instinct they have. Haven’t come across a female cop yet that wasn’t nice and sweet.”

“I can’t wait to see Peanut. I never thought I could miss a dog so much. Thanks a million, Dutch. You’re good for something.”

“Sharon, you’re too quiet. If that was Bella or Lady I’d have been after sneaking up there and getting them on my own.”

“Now, Mr. Brains. How do you expect me to get to my house? Haven’t you seen the two cops cars parked within 200 feet of my house?”

“I would have crawled on my belly. Wouldn’t be the first person to sneak past a cop or two. You think the cops in those cars are not having a scattered nap? Don’t kid yourself. I’d say they’re pretty fed up with all this.”

“Enough of this. I’m going back to Judy’s for a nap.”

“Sharon, you’re up two hours, actually less.”

“Yes, you’re right, Dutch. See you later, boys. Joe, I might come back later. With any luck, Dutch will be gone back to Gammy Bird Town.”

“Now, Sharon, don’t go home and sleep all day and not get Peanut.”

“I’m going for a short nap.”

After Sharon and Brenda left, Joe turned to me and said, “Sure, she’s not up two hours yet and she’s gone for a nap.”

“I’ll leave her alone for a few hours and then go get her if she doesn’t come back. If she doesn’t get Peanut today, she’ll flip.”

“I don’t blame her. Dog left in the house for over seventy-two hours. If I was Sharon I would make an official complaint to the humane society. Someone told me that Carly Lundrigan was brought to her house yesterday by the cops to get her dog. Does Sharon know that?”

“I don’t think so. She’ll flip when she hears it, though. They drove past her house to get a dog in another house and couldn’t bring her with them to get Peanut. Typical, one hand doesn’t know what the other is at. Hope that will not turn into a habit of the police during this standoff.”

“What do you mean, Dutch?”

“I hope for Leo’s sake that this is organized. How often have we heard in police reports over the years that one group of police didn’t know what was on the go during a standoff?”

“If I was a betting person, I’d bet they will definitely let Sharon get her dog today. Now that they let Carly get her dog, I’d say they’ll let Sharon and Sandra Cahill go get both animals today.”

Approximately two hours later, Sharon showed up back in the pit with Peanut. They came over to Joe’s rig and got in.

“Here he is, Mr. Peanut. Sharon, he looks fine to me.”

“He nearly ate me when he saw me.”

“I’d say. When did you get him?”

“As soon as I got up from my nap I went straight to the town hall. They put me in a black Suburban, flew me up St. John’s Road. Fastest time I ever travelled on a road in Bay Bulls. Hauled into my house, up to the front door. As close as they could get. One SWAT team member got out with me. He stood by my front door with a gun in his hand, facing Leo’s. They told me to get absolutely nothing else, only the dog.”

“Did you turn off the lights?”

“No. I wasn’t pushing my luck.”

“You should have at least turned off the lights. Your house is lit up like a church.”

“Fuck it. A few extra dollars on my electricity bill. Newfoundland Power has to make a few bucks off this, too.”

“I bet you feel happy now that you got your Peanut.”

“Next time this happens Peanut will be going with me the first time I leave the house.”

“Why, Sharon—you expect this to happen again?”

“Dutch, anything is possible in Bay Bulls. We have quite the mix of people.”

“I have to agree with you, Sharon.”

“Mr. Hearn said to me one time, Dutch, ‘It takes all types to make the world go ’round. And you know what? They’re all here.’ I never forgot that. Ambrose had many good sayings. I dearly miss him.”

“Remember the summer Ambrose put out the liar’s bench? Shortly after he put it out, Mrs. Hearn looked out and Ambrose and Uncle Tom were sitting on it having a yarn. She said to me the next day, ‘You couldn’t have hand-picked two better fellows to sit on a liar’s bench.’ That bench had at least five or ten tourists stop daily to have their picture taken on it. Every time I hear the Highwaymen sing ‘Desperados Waiting for a Train,’ I think of Mr. Hearn.”

“I’m going to get some grub.”

“You coming back after supper?”

“Dutch, you know I will be.”

“Okay. I’m going to Tina’s mother’s for supper.”

“Why are you going there?”

“Tina went to New Hampshire last night shopping with her two friends from work, Wanda Percy and Kerry Whalen.”

“How long she gone for?”

“Back around midnight, Friday night.”

“This should be over by then.”

“That’s wishful thinking. That’s a fifty-fifty scenario.”

“You have it rough, don’t you? Your girlfriend gone away and the mother-in-law feeds you.”

“She’s an awesome cook, I don’t mind. Sure, why not feed me? She cooks twice a day, every day. She’s feeding Stacie and Hollie as well, so me tagging along is no big deal. Later, Joe, Sharon.”

I got back to the pit about a half-hour later with a full belly. I parked and climbed into the back seat of Joe’s SUV.

“Supper was deadly. Pan-fried cod, fried with fatback pork, and potatoes. The meal that most tourists look for when they come here.”

“That true?”

“I know it from when I had the craft shop. Anyway, I can hardly breathe I’m so full. If I fart I’ll fill me drawers.”

“You fart once and you’ll be sitting in your own car.”

“Yes, and you’ll have nothing to view Leo’s house with, so fuck off. Tina’s old man said he may come over later on for a look.”

“That would be all right. Michael’s a good fellow to have a yarn with.”

“Talk the arse off you if you want to listen to him. He can’t believe that this is going on since Saturday.”

“Him and everyone else in Witless Bay, Dutch.”

“The news had a bit more on this evening. Most of it was repeating what was on yesterday evening. They’ll get a lot of mileage out of this.”

“Not much else to be reporting this time of year.”

“A standoff anywhere in Newfoundland or Labrador is a big story. Especially one ongoing for four days. Joe, if this is going on for another day or two, I’m willing to bet you’ll see media from the mainland crawling around here.”

“Dutch, there are national reporters stationed in St. John’s full-time. If you watch the nightly news, there are stories every day or at least every second day from Newfoundland appearing on the national news.”

“Joe, did you notice the lights shining on the back of Leo’s house? They look like they’re on a tripod. Floodlights. The type you see on construction sites. Dual lights. The stand is almost always yellow. You can adjust them up or down. From this angle the place is lit up like the Basilica in St. John’s. I’m going up to Ann Marie’s for a look at the back of Leo’s house. You going or staying?”

“I’m staying. Not losing this spot.”

“Okay, back in a half-hour.”

I got in my car and scooted to the other side of the harbour. On my way to Ann Marie’s door I noticed a video camera on a very large tripod on her deck. I knocked on her door and walked in.

“Dutch, why are you knocking?”

“Me mother always told me to knock before entering anyone’s house. And to always take my shoes off. Ann Marie, when did they set up the motherfucking huge lights behind Leo’s house?”

“I noticed them coming on dark.”

“How did they get the lights so close to the house?”

“I don’t know, but if I had to guess I’d say they crawled over on their bellies from behind the garage. The garage closest to the house. The old yellow Dodge truck is on an angle, so when you look from the house to the garage you actually can’t see this corner of the garage, the corner closest to my house. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“That’s what I’m surmising. That makes sense. But why the fuck have they got those lights on the house?”

“Dutch, I have no idea. But I’d say it’s one of two reasons. One, to light the house for the sharpshooters, or two, they’re planning on making a move tonight.”

“I thought they took the sharpshooters out of there when it got dark.”

“They were taking them out of there, but this evening they changed them out and left them there.”

“That’s interesting. I’m thinking they have info that is not out to the public.”

“I had an interesting chat with the young girl from CBC. Did you see her on the deck on the way in?”

“No, but there’s a camera set up facing Leo’s.”

“Dutch, if you had looked closer you would have seen the CBC logo on the side of it.”

“I never saw a logo.”

“Must be on the other side.”

“When did she show up?”

“Fifteen or twenty minutes ago. She told me that they got a tip to stay in the area tonight.”

“Who told them that?”

“She wouldn’t say. I asked her if it was the cops. She smiled and said, ‘We don’t reveal our informants.’”

“Ann Marie, that’s big news. With the lights on the house, the sharpshooters still left at their locations, and with the CBC reporter saying that. Did you put it to her that they might attack the house tonight?”

“No, not really.”

“Why not?”

“She didn’t seem the most talkative.”

“That’s strange for a reporter. Talking is their job.”

“Anyway, when she arrived and asked if they could shoot from my deck I said, ‘Fill your boots, baby.’ I don’t give a fuck who’s on my deck so long as they’re not blocking my view when I wants to have a gander out my living room window. Did you see the crowd on my deck last night?”

“No, we never left the pit until late. Joe was the last to leave.”

“Go figure. He’s always the last to leave.”

“Well, if we hear any shots fired in the next little while, we’ll know what it is. I know Leo is not livid with them for lighting up his house. More actions by the cops to further piss him off. I can see him popping those lights. Surprised he hasn’t done it already. This is going to get a lot more exciting before it ends. It could get a lot more exciting tonight.

“I don’t know where to stay. Will I stay here on your deck or go back to the pit? I’m going back to the pit. Ann Marie, promise me you will call the second you see anything or anyone moving. When did you come in off the deck?”

“I’m in the house about an hour and a half. Came in to cook a bit of supper, and then I watched the news.”

“Nothing new on the news?”

“No, recycled from yesterday. It wasn’t even the first story.”

“I guess it is kind of getting old. Four days. Well, I’m gone to the pit. Make sure we keep our lines of communication open. Call me. I haven’t conquered the texting yet.”

“For sure, Dutch.”

I left Ann Marie’s and headed back to the pit. On the drive back I saw more police vehicles than on the way to Ann Marie’s. I parked behind Joe and got in with him.

“Joe, you should go over to Irish Town for a look. You won’t believe the power in the lights shining on the back of Leo’s house.”

“I can see from here how powerful they are. I don’t know how they got to set them up without us seeing them doing it.”

“Joe, we’re doing a fine bit of talking. Our eyes are not on the house constantly.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“And there are times we wind up the windows and turn on the vehicle to warm up. No one is looking then.

“Oh, forgot to tell you. There’s a reporter up to Ann Marie’s from CBC. Apparently she told Ann Marie that they got a tip to be in the area tonight.”

“Who did they get that from?”

“The reporter wouldn’t say. I’m guessing the police.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes. Definitely attacking tonight, with the lights on the back of the house and with the reporter saying that. And Joe, they left the sharpshooters in place. Definitely attacking. Call Jeff, Plumber, and David Lou. No need to call Sharon or Brenda. They’ll be up anyway.”

“Do you know those six SWAT team members are still by the side of the garage?”

“Holy fuck. They’re there since before eight o’clock this morning.”

“Eight a.m. was the first time we noticed them. Why did you ask if they were still there?”

“There has to be a reason. You never know, they may have a visual on Leo. And like I said, they’re trying to intimidate him.”

“Well, they will need more than six cops there.”

“Sharon and Brenda are coming up the top road. And Jeff is taking up the rear behind them.”

A few minutes later Sharon’s car pulled into the pit and hauled in alongside Joe’s SUV. I rolled down the window.

“Hey, you talking to Ann Marie?”

“No, why?”

“You should dart up and see her, she has news.”

“What kind of news?”

“There’s a CBC reporter on her deck with a cameraman. Ann Marie told me that the reporter told her they got a tip to be in the area tonight.”

“WHAT?”

“Yup, that’s what she told me when I was there over a half-hour ago.”

“Okay, boys, we’re gone. If you see any big movement around Leo’s, call us at Ann Marie’s.”

I watched Brenda and Sharon go down the top road heading for Ann Marie’s. In the meantime, Jeff had parked his car in front of Joe’s SUV and gotten in with us.

“Dutch, it’s nine thirty and nothing moving.”

“I’d say they’re waiting for the harbour to settle down. They want as few witnesses as possible when they attack. Jeff, if I had to bet I’d say they’re going in tonight. Let me rephrase that. They’re going to try and go in tonight. Everything is adding up. Lights on the back of the house. Sharpshooters not taken from their locations in the grass behind the house. And what the reporter said.”

“Dutch, I just hope they do it soon. I can’t wait all night like you and Joe. I have school in the morning.”

“It will definitely be late tonight or early morning when it happens. And with our luck, we’ll miss it.”

“Dutch, how will you miss it? You’re here virtually twenty-four hours a day.”

“Jeff, we’re averaging eighteen to twenty hours a day. But you wait and see, it will happen when we’re asleep. Joe, the truck is going up the road.”

“Which truck?”

“The white truck with the robot in the back.”

“I guess they’re sending it in again.”

“So there is action happening.”

“I’ll call Brenda to tell her and Sharon to watch it from Ann Marie’s. Be interesting to see how it acts.”

I dialled Brenda’s number. “Brenda, the bomb disposal truck is going up St. John’s Road. I’d say the robot is going in to torment Leo again. The reporter still there?”

“No, she got a phone call and the second she got off the phone she left. Thanked Ann Marie for her hospitality and left.”

“Which direction did she go?”

“The van turned around in Ann Marie’s driveway and went out Irish Town Road towards the highway.”

“So there must not have been much fact in her comment about the tip they got. I guess she got pictures of the back of the house lit up and I’d say they’ll use them tonight on their late edition. You staying there for a while?”

“We weren’t. But we will now, to hear what the robot is saying.”

“I’m coming over. Tell Ann Marie to crank on the coffee pot.”

“Will do.”

In a few minutes I was back at Ann Marie’s. Ann Marie and I and Sharon and Brenda and a few other people from the harbour gathered on her deck to listen to the robot. It was loud, even louder than it had been before.

“LEO . . . COME OUT. LEO . . . COME OUT. We won’t hurt you. Come on, now, Leo, come out. We have cigarettes for you. Anything you want, we’ll get it for you. Leo . . . we’re trying to help you, Leo. Leo, we’re your friends. I promise we won’t hurt you. Leo, don’t worry about your mother’s house . . . we’ll repair it. We’ll fix any damage that we did. Yes, Leo, we’ll repair your mother’s house. Come on, Leo, please come out.”

There was a lull, and then we heard Leo’s voice.

“Get the FUCK off my property. Get the FUCK off my property. Get the FUCK off my property. Get off my goddamn property.”

“Yes, Leo, we will get off your property when you come out.”

“FUCK off and get the FUCK off my property, ye bastards.”

“Leo, we’re not going anywhere until you come out. We will get off your property when you come out.”

“Get the FUCK off my property.”

“Come on, now, Leo, we’re trying to help you.”

“FUCK off, pigs.”

We heard what sounded like a rifle shot. Everyone broke out talking at once.

“Jesus, Leo fired.”

“At the robot?”

“I don’t know.”

“Holy shit, man, Leo fired at the robot again.”

“How many times are they going to repeat themselves?”

“They said that a hundred times last night. And Leo kept saying the same thing. ‘Get the fuck off my property.’”

“Don’t the police realize they’re destroying their own objectivity?”

“Do they realize that their tactics are not working?”

“Do they realize that he’s in a tormented state of mind?”

“You would think.”

“But how are they getting him out?”

“Who knows.”

I phoned my brother. “Joe, did you hear the shot fired?”

“I heard it but didn’t know what it was. I kind of figured it was a shot. Sounded like Leo fired. Could have been a noisemaker. They sound a lot like a rifle shot.”

“Don’t underestimate the things that he’ll do. A caged animal is a dangerous animal. Can you hear the robot over there?”

“I can hear a little. When the wind blows a certain way you can pick up some words. It’s carrying a little in the wind. What’s the robot saying?”

“It keeps repeating itself. It says, ‘Come out, Leo, we want to help you. Come out, Leo, we’re here to help you.’ What I find interesting is it says that they’ll fix his house.”

“Is Leo saying anything?”

“He keeps repeating himself. ‘Get the fuck off my property. Get the fuck off my property.’ That sounds so much like what Leo would say. Jeff still there?”

“No, he went home. He said he had some homework to do.”

“He’s missing it. He’ll be pissed when he hears this.”

“His own fault for going home.”

“I guess he doesn’t have the luxury that we have. Oh well, someone has to get educated in this harbour. I’ll be over the minute the robot leaves. Joe, turn on CBC. See if they have an update.”

“Did the robot keep saying the same thing?”

“Yup, kept saying it over and over and over. What time is it?”

“Ten after eleven.”

“I’m betting they’re sending that robot in again.”

“You hanging around for a few more hours?”

“Yes, going nowhere. If something happens over there, I want to see it.”

“Fuck it. I’m staying, too. I have to run into the house and get some smokes.”

“Go on. I’ll meet you at your house. Might grab a bun or something to hold me over. Anything in there to eat?”

“I’d say Janet has something baked.”

“Joe, she’s a good baker. I dearly love her dark fruitcake.”

Joe’s house is close to Foodland, behind the funeral home on Cemetery Lane West. His wife was waiting for us in the kitchen.

“Janet, you should come up with us for a look.”

“Ye are off your heads, up there freezing to fucking death.”

“Janet, this is entertainment. Better than anything on the tube.”

“And freezing to death watching it.”

“I’m not cold, I have insulated jeans on. Janet, it’s not that cold out. It’s six degrees Celsius out. Warmest day since this started.”

We grabbed a couple of coffees in disposable cups and some fruitcake and headed back to the pit. The harbour was dead quiet.

“Joe, the white truck is on the move again. See it going up the road?”

“I see it.”

“Man, they are keeping the pressure on tonight.”

“I guess they’re trying to wear him down.”

“I’d say they don’t want him to sleep. Mind games.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Wear him down. Joe, they might do that every half-hour or so.”

“They’ll have to stop sometime to discuss strategy and then Leo will have a power nap. They say people who run on adrenaline can go days with little or no sleep. Apparently they have documented evidence of Canadian soldiers going for seventy-two hours and longer during battle in World War II. And Leo is a soldier. He always had that mentality. If he went at anything, like changing an engine in a car, he would go non-stop for two days until it was running. And then he might sleep for an hour or two.”

“Joe, he always kept himself in good shape, didn’t he?”

“Yes, always. Him and Francie pumped iron for years. Leo never bulked up like Francie, but there was never an ounce of fat on him. If he grabbed you by the throat, you knew it.

“Dutch, did you also notice about Leo he was always as clean as a whistle? And never any growth on his face. Always showered up. His trademark shirt is always the white dress shirt.”

“I saw him, at one of the dances at the old parish hall years ago, pound the shit out of two fellows from Goulds. There was always talk they were coming back for a rematch. They never showed their faces in Bay Bulls again.”

“Dutch, I don’t have to tell you, you could look high and low and you couldn’t find a nicer, more sincere fellow in the harbour.”

“Joe, there’s not a person who ever said anything bad about Leo, or any of the Crockwells, for that matter.”

“I just pray to God that he comes out of this unhurt. What they’re doing to him is inhumane. If they’d just pack up their guns and that fucking robot and go to fuck and leave him alone, Leo would walk out of that house in a few days, after he got his bearings.”

“Joe, I don’t agree with you much, but you hit the nail on the head on this one. We can only hope and pray they don’t hurt him.

“Joe, the robot is going again. That is the fourth trip since eight o’clock and it’s not even twelve yet. I know they’re not scratching their heads. I’d say this has to be the longest standoff in Newfoundland’s history. This is the fourth day and it doesn’t seem like it’s about to end anytime soon.”

“Have you wondered why they never attacked yet? They’re frightened to death of him. If they weren’t, they would have gone in days ago and dragged him out.”

“Joe, can you imagine what it’s like in there in the dark? No lights, no heat, the wind blowing freely through the house. I’d say it’s like living in a hockey arena for four days. And we know how cold arenas are.”

“If they think sending a little talking robot in to torment Leo every half-hour to forty-five minutes is going to work, they’re in for a real shock. They could send that little R2-D2 in every half-hour for the rest of the winter, but that little shitbox won’t do a thing to move Leo.”

“Joe, quick, look at the hangout. There’s two people walking up the road, a man and a woman. They’re abreast of the games arcade.”

“Who the fuck are they? And where the fuck did they come from?”

“And how the fuck did the cops allow them to get that close to Leo’s house?”

“Dutch, I think they’re the two living in Brian Ryan’s house.” Brian’s house is east of Mullowney’s and Crockwell’s.

“What? You tell me that they’re there all week and the cops never knew to take them out of there? Hard to believe, ain’t it? Sure, Eddie Fowler is gone.” Eddie’s house is close to Brian’s.

“Yes, but I think his niece took him for his own safety. The cops never ordered him out.”

“Yes, Joe, but they must have told these two not to walk up the road towards Leo’s.”

“They probably did, and they never listened.”

“Where have they been all week?”

“We never saw them walk up or down the road.”

“Well, they’re in for some shock when they pop around the corner of Foodland. There’ll be no less than twenty cops staring at them. Probably with weapons aimed. I guarantee you they won’t be going back down the road in a hurry.”

“It’s hard to believe that the cops would let them get that close to Leo. And Donna almost got in over the doorstep. What else is going to happen before this is over? If this was a training exercise it wouldn’t be any worse than the way it’s going.”

“Joe, they could be sending that robot in all night. Anyway, I’m beat to a snot and my back is killing me. You staying much longer?”

“An hour or so.”

“Okay, call my cell if they start moving in. You should have an idea if and when they’re going in. The place over there will be crawling with cops.”

“All right, I’ll call you.”

“And Joe, I’ll say it again. Take care of my binoculars and scope.”

“Yes, Dutch.”

“Good night.”