Chapter 27

“There’s more stuff in the new CPIC on your Missions kid,” Agarwal said later. “He was a suspect in a murder, in 2002, in New Brunswick.” He dumped sheafs of print-outs onto Digby’s desk. He had taken charge of the computer database searching yeoman’s work and was turning up piles of info on the Missions’ family.
“Murder?” Digby picked up the stack and peered thoughtfully at the first few lines on the first page.
“Him and his mom were suspects in the murder of a relative. The mother’s name is Darlene Missions, nee Pinch. Looks like she was separated from Willard Junior for a time and moved to New Brunswick. She had three kids in short succession with a fellow out there, named Paul Papineau. The youngest, the daughter, was found asphyxiated and beaten with a shovel in a shallow grave in some woods out near Zealand, outside Fredericton. She was eleven years old. The killer tied her with duct tape around her wrists, eyes and ankles and buried her alive. A huge frigging rock was put on her chest to pin her down while they filled the grave with dirt.”
“What?”
“Yeah. They held her down with a rock. Can you imagine?”
“Jesus… Okay. 2002,” Digby thought out loud. “How old would Darroll be back then?”
“Fourteen,” Agarwal said. “Darlene was the prime suspect, but Darroll and Kurtis, the other son, were visiting her at the time. The notes say probably it would have required two people. Neither Darlene nor the boys could account for where they were that night. The cops found out that Darlene arranged babysitting for her two young Papineau boys, Alden and Leonard, for the night of the murder. She got a babysitter for the night of the murder, but then couldn’t tell police where she went that night.”
“Smart lady,” Digby said, lifting her eyebrows.
“Yeah. She’s a genius. But, they didn’t have enough to charge her.”
Agarwal returned to his green-walled cubicle and hunched over the computer again, sifting more police files, probation reports, court and other government records.
“I could go at this ‘til Christmas,” he mumbled, chewing sunflower seeds and spitting the wet shells into an empty cup. “I’ve never seen such a pathetic bunch of scams. There’s a bench warrant from New Brunswick Family Court for Darlene. Failure to appear. Child support payment fraud- ha!” Agarwal kicked back in his chair and looked up at the girder ceiling, as if appealing to the Gods residing there.
“Child support fraud?” Digby looked over.
“For the two Papineau boys. She had them shipped out west somewhere with a relative three years ago, but she’s been saying all along that they live with her and collecting child support. -Jesus! The Family Court is coming after her for 25 grand.”
Digby chuckled along with Agarwal. All she really cared about was the fact that Darroll Missions had an outstanding warrant.
Police often “saved up” warrants like this, sometimes for as long as six months, either because they were too busy with other stuff or to use when it was most advantageous.
She printed out a copy of the warrant and copied down Darroll’s last known address, on Herring Cove Road in Spryfield outside Halifax. She grabbed a set of unmarked car keys from the detective board.
“Let’s go see Darroll.”
Agarwal put on his leather jacket and followed her out.