‘That’s not a police badge,’ the woman snarled.
‘You can phone the Barrie Police for confirmation.’ Yellich spoke calmly.
‘I have my dogs.’
‘I can see.’ Yellich looked at the two Alsatians who growled and barked menacingly at him.
‘Well you look like a policeman, but the dogs will have your smart little ass if you try anything.’
‘Understood.’
‘So what do you want?’
‘Heather Ossetti.’
The elderly woman groaned, ‘That name. . that woman. So long ago now, thirty years. . more. How did you know she lived here?’
‘St Saviours, they gave your home as her discharge address.’
‘I see. They were a bit free with that information.’
‘We assured them it was a murder inquiry. . so they relented. Your address was not freely given.’
‘A mu. . again!’
‘Again?’
The woman ordered the dogs to be quiet and then having opened the screen door led Yellich into a dimly lit, cluttered sitting room. The dogs followed and sat at the woman’s feet, not once taking their eyes off Yellich.
‘You don’t seem to have a good memory of Heather Ossetti. It is Mrs Castle?’
‘Yes. Mary Castle. Well, would you have a good memory of her if she killed your husband. . or in your case, if she killed your wife?’
‘Tell me what happened.’ Yellich sat back in the chair. The pattern was, he thought, becoming well established, and as such he anticipated hearing of a murder which doubtless had looked like an accident.
‘She came here from the nuns. She was quiet, shy, reserved. . but that was an act.’
‘You think so?’
‘I think so. The report about her was good, positive. . a quiet girl it said, hard working, but those nuns don’t stand any nonsense and it rapidly became clear to me that Heather Ossetti had realized that she couldn’t beat them and so she did the next best thing, she just didn’t let the nuns at St Saviours get hold of her personality. You know the score; it was the old manipulation by obedience two step.’
‘I see.’
‘We were vetted by St Saviours. They don’t like discharging their girls just like that, that’s the quickest way to the red light district in Toronto.’
‘Yes.’
‘So they employ halfway houses, hopefully to give them some experience of family life. Both the girls we had before went on to get married but Heather. . she was certainly frightened of the nuns but not of us. Pretty soon she was testing the limits, then pushing them, never enough for us to order her out but enough for my husband to say we’ve made a mistake with this one. We could have turned her out. . she was seventeen. . could have and we damn well should have.’
‘But you didn’t.’
Mary Castle shook her head, sorrowfully. ‘No, it was the onset of winter so we decided to keep her until the spring. There is sometimes a false spring in Ontario, just when you think summer has arrived, and it’s then that the snow returns with a vengeance.’
‘Yes, it can be like that in the UK. So what happened?’
‘My husband died. Misadventure.’
‘I am sorry.’
‘Just out there,’ she turned to her left, ‘out there at the rear of the house. Not out in the backwoods among the spruce, but just a few feet from safety.’
‘Tragic. . that really is. . very tragic.’
‘Yes. It makes it annoying as well as tragic. So close to home. Hell, he was at home, just outside the house and in his garden.’
‘So what was the story?’
‘It was the last of the winter. He went to work as usual that morning. . and just didn’t come home, or so we thought. He worked in Toronto and they still talk about the winter of 1944 in that city when thirty-eight people died in a snowstorm. It snowed hard that day like the winter of ’44. I was out that day visiting my sister. He wasn’t home when I returned but I wasn’t worried because Earl, that was my husband’s name, Earl Castle, Earl always said, “If the weather is bad don’t worry because I am a survivor. I’ll be holed up some place, so don’t worry.” I assumed he’d stayed in his office overnight. He’d done that before along with his co-workers. So the next morning I phoned the company he worked for and was told his car was in the car park all right but that was because he and a co-worker, who also lived in Barrie, had decided to share a car home. They had made it home in a blizzard. The co-worker dropped Earl off at the front gate and had driven on home to his house.’
‘He didn’t wait to see him enter the house?’
‘No, he couldn’t see the front door from the road anyway. . near white-out. . but there is a guide rope from the gate to the door.’
‘I noticed it.’
‘Yes. So he, the co-worker, drove away. He also had to get home as soon as he could. .’
‘Yes. . understandable.’
‘He said there was about two feet of snow when he drove away after dropping Earl off and it was still falling. The next morning the house was surrounded by snow, six to eight feet deep in places.’
‘Good grief,’ Yellich gasped.
‘Well, that’s Canada. The snow lay, and it lay, then eventually it thawed and Earl’s body was exposed. Fully clothed, still holding his briefcase. For some reason he wandered round the back of the house and lay down.’
‘What do you think happened?’
‘I have only suspicion.’
‘That’s good enough. Between you and me, that’s good enough.’
‘Well, who was at the house that day but Ossetti.’
‘She locked him out?’
‘Don’t think so. Earl was a strong, stocky man, he could have forced entry. He was also unlikely to go round the back of the house to force entry. If he couldn’t get in the front he would have gone to our neighbours to seek shelter. . we are lifelong friends and they would have taken him in without a moment’s hesitation. I came home later and got in without any bother. No. . I think something forced him or lured him out to the back of the house.’
‘All right,’ Yellich glanced uneasily at the Alsatians.
‘He had a slight graze on his forehead which could have been accidental, but also it could have been not so.’
‘Yes.’
‘The inquest was full of assumptions — there was no hard evidence to be had, just assumptions. . slipped in the snow, banged his head, became disorientated, wandered round the back of the house. . so it was recorded as being death by misadventure.’
‘But your alternative theory?’
‘Is that Heather Ossetti overheard us talking about her and that prompted a first strike, a pre-emptive strike. She banged Earl on the head but not sufficient to cause any severe injury and then led him in a semi-conscious state outside and let him lay down as the snow covered him. . and he succumbed to hypothermia and suffocation.’
‘Not an unusual death in Canada I am led to believe.’
‘Not at all and quite convenient if you want murder to look like an accident. Snow can be very useful in that way.’
‘Did you notify the police?’
‘Of course, the following day, but they had their hands full rescuing stranded people, people whose lives were at risk. They couldn’t leave that to search for a body in the snow and by that time, if he hadn’t found shelter, that’s what Earl would have been, a corpse covered in snow.’