‘Sure,’ Blanche Lecointe held fascinated eye contact with Yellich as she rapidly regained her composure.
‘Well. . this is not easy to explain. . so I’ll just say it, but in the first instance can I ask you how you know your sister is deceased?’ He paused. ‘What I mean to say is that even though your sister’s death was registered, what identification was made of the deceased? Can you confirm the deceased in question was your sister?’
‘Yes,’ the woman replied softly, ‘yes, I can.’ She remained composed, impressively so, so thought all three of the officers. Given the unexpected nature of the call, the revealed purpose of it, Blanche Lecointe’s speedy recovery of her composure was impressive. ‘I identified the body in the Chapel of Rest. She lay in an open casket. I kissed her forehead. That is how I know it was Edith.’
The three officers exchanged eye contact and nodded slightly.
‘That’s good enough,’ Yellich said. ‘In fact it’s more than good enough.’ He then addressed Blanche Lecointe. ‘It seems that a woman has been using your late sister’s identity in the UK.’
Blanche Lecointe gasped.
‘We are extremely anxious to find out the identity of the woman who stole your sister’s identity. This lady had a North American accent, she knew this part of Canada and she had a Canadian passport in your sister’s name. . your late sister’s name. . and she herself was murdered a few days ago.’
‘My. .’ Blanche Lecointe put up a hand to her mouth, ‘oh, my.’ She sank back against her chair. ‘My. .’
‘We have good reason to believe the person who murdered her to be a Canadian, a Canadian male, and that he is now back here in Canada.’
Blanche Lecointe forced a smile. ‘In Canada? It’s still a lot of territory, largest country in the Commonwealth.’
‘Appreciate that, it’s an awful lot of pink on the map, twice the land area of the USA. . more. . in fact.’
‘The big empty, but yes, it’s a large country.’
‘Again, all I can say is that I appreciate that but this is our only lead,’ Yellich replied calmly.
‘We have to start somewhere,’ Marianne Auphan smiled, ‘and this is the one address, the only address we have. There must be some connection between your sister and the woman who was murdered in England a few days ago.’
Yellich deftly plunged his hand into the large manila envelope he carried and extracted the passport found in Edith Lecointe’s bedroom in her home in Dringhouses, York. He handed it to Blanche Lecointe, opened at the photograph page.
‘That is not my sister, definitely not Edith. Not her. . no way, not even the slightest similarity, and before you ask, no I do not recognize the woman in the photograph. . what an evil-looking woman. . those eyes, heavens just look at those eyes. Edith had such warm eyes but this woman. . Who is she? Who is she?’
‘If we find that out. .’ Yellich allowed his voice to fade.
‘What can you tell us about your sister?’ Ventnor asked.
‘I’d rather you asked questions, it would be easier,’ Blanche Lecointe smiled. ‘I mean I could tell you a whole lot about Edith but none of it would be any help. . like how she took her coffee and all. . ask me of the details you need to know.’
‘Point taken,’ Ventnor smiled. ‘You’re right, of course.’
‘I can tell you that we were not full sisters in actuality, we were half-sisters. Same father, different mothers.’ Blanche Lecointe leafed through the passport. ‘She didn’t go far, did she? The mystery woman I mean, just one stamp. . Heathrow. Where is that? London? Oh yes, it says so. . oh. .’
‘What is it?’ Marianne Auphan sat up, suddenly alert. ‘Have you noticed something, ma’am?’
‘The date, the date the passport was issued.’
‘What about it. . is it significant?’
‘It is dated a year, a full year before my sister died.’
A silence descended on the room.
‘Are you certain?’ Marianne Auphan asked.
‘Sure. Sure I am sure.’ The woman’s voice rose with impatience. ‘It’s easily verified, but yeah, I am sure.’ She handed the passport back to Yellich. ‘Go check. Go check. But I tell you that passport was issued one year, one full year before my sister Edith died.’
Yellich took the passport and checked the date of issue against the death certificate in respect of the passing of Edith Lecointe. He felt acutely embarrassed. ‘Something we should have noticed,’ he said. ‘Elementary, but yes, the passport was issued twelve months prior to the death of Mrs Lecointe.’
‘Miss Lecointe,’ Blanche Lecointe corrected Yellich with clear indignation.
‘Sorry,’ Yellich smiled apologetically, ‘Miss Lecointe. And it was issued fraudulently. The person who obtained the passport was not Edith Lecointe. Can you tell us about Miss Lecointe’s death?’ Yellich addressed Blanche Lecointe. ‘I’m. . we are sorry if this is difficult for you.’
‘It was recorded as being accidental,’ Blanche, Lecointe replied softly. ‘And it is not difficult, but thank you.’
‘We’ll have to take a fresh look now,’ Marianne Auphan added. ‘It is now raising suspicions.’
‘Who issues passports in Canada? What is the procedure?’ Yellich turned to Marianne Auphan.
‘I believe it is the same system as in the UK, by post from the passport office. The nearest one to Barrie is Toronto. . completed form, a copy of the birth certificate plus two photographs, plus fee. The form has to be signed by a professional person authenticating that the applicant is who he or she claims to be and also that the photograph is authentic. I admit it’s the damned easiest thing in the world to obtain a passport in somebody else’s name and the passport officials, hard pressed as they are, won’t be suspicious. Miss Lecointe’s application won’t ring any alarm bells about illegal immigrants, she is, after all, white European, mid forties, resident in a small city which has no appeal for ethnic minorities or illegals, nothing suspicious there at all. Her application will be rubber-stamped. Here, in this situation, Miss Lecointe was still alive when the passport was issued so there would be no death certificate to nullify the claim. But passport applications are not cross-referenced to death certificates anyway.’
‘Not in the UK either,’ Yellich spoke softly. ‘Big hole in the procedural tightness methinks.’
‘Indeed.’ Marianne Auphan glanced at Blanche Lecointe and smiled. ‘I am afraid we will be here for a little time.’
‘Sure. . I’ll fix us all some coffee.’ She rose from the table.
Moments later, when all four were sipping coffee sweetened and with milk according to taste, Yellich asked, ‘So, could you tell us what you know about your half-sister? Did you grow up together? We need to go as far back as we can. . I am sorry.’
‘No. . sure, it’s OK, like I said. . don’t be sorry for anything,’ Blanche Lecointe smiled. ‘Happy to help. So, well, I am older. I was planned; Edith was not planned and was fostered from birth. She was given our family name and then forgotten.’ She shook her head, ‘Horrible. . just horrible to do that to a child.’
‘Where did she grow up? Do you know?’ Yellich asked.
Ventnor remained silent, occasionally glancing at Marianne Auphan; less occasionally their eyes met.
‘In foster care,’ Blanche Lecointe sighed. ‘All that unmet need. . Foster care can be like natural parenting, I guess it can be good or it can be bad. In her case, I don’t know the details but it definitely wasn’t good. Later I found out that she criminalized herself when she was still a juvenile and was sent to live with the nuns at a place called St Saviours. I don’t know where that was. . or still is. Like I said, all that unmet need, poor girl. We had no contact at all with each other, then she suddenly showed up on my front stoop with a valise or two and said, “Hi, I’m your sister”. Took the breath right from me. We even looked similar which was strange because girls are supposed to grow up to look like their mothers and boys like their father. . but me and Edith, we were our father’s daughters all right. And that, let me tell you, was the first I knew that she existed.’