Truth and Honour Page 9

  Soon after the discovery of Oland’s body, the word on the street was that the murder weapon was an axe. If the victim had been bludgeoned or stabbed to death, this fit the national pattern, with firearms typically being responsible for only a third of homicides.12 If the killer had brought a weapon to the office, this was a sign of premeditation and, presuming an arrest could be made, a case of first-degree murder. If the assailant had picked up a hatchet or hammer on-site, this suggested a crime of passion, possibly the result of a verbal altercation that escalated out of control. Given Oland’s reportedly difficult personality, anything was possible. There was no arrest, reward posted, or statement from investigators or the family asking for the public’s assistance. In fact, the SJPF had more or less advised the public that it had identified the suspect. The understanding was that Richard had opened his door to someone he knew and trusted, which seemed to rule out robbery as a motive. A crime-scene analyst would have noticed that the office appeared to present a “disorganized” scene, suggesting sudden rage and a struggle. An organized scene, in contrast, indicates premeditation and that the assailant maintained control over themselves and the victim.13

  During this early stage of the investigation, the MCU, which was headed by Sergeant David Brooker, held daily briefings to compare notes and assign new tasks. For example, security-camera footage was acquired from several businesses in Rothesay and Saint John. One wonders what impact the Oland investigation had on a unit that normally has several hundred files in one year. The lead investigator, who was called in from vacation, was veteran Constable Rick Russell.

  On July 7, the SJPF had conducted a canvass (a search for witnesses, a weapon, and security cameras) of the neighbourhood centred on 52 Canterbury Street. The canine unit searched the rectangular area bounded by Canterbury (west), Princess (south), Germain (east), and Grannan Street (north), as well as the back alley and the lot to the south where the victim’s BMW had been parked. The canvass extended further into the South end. This activity would continue the following day, with a renewed “article search.” The canine unit also was deployed. One problem with many security cameras in the neighbourhood was that they pointed at the door areas of businesses, not at the street. No potential murder weapon was found inside the building or in the immediate neighbourhood.

  At a crime scene, the position of the victim’s body, the cause of death, the location and nature of wounds, the condition of the clothing, the type of weapon (if left behind), and the pattern of the victim’s blood are all important clues. Arriving back at the scene, Sgt. Smith took more than one-hundred photos of blood spatter. On the floor near the area where the victim’s head had rested, blood was caked so thickly that it looked like a rug. Smith was not an expert on spatter, but his preliminary work would greatly help the RCMP bloodstain expert who would travel from Nova Scotia. Smith found no signs of forced entry and no blood outside of the inner office—for example, on doors or in the stairwell. He checked the second-floor bathroom where he found in the waste can used paper towel that would be tested for blood. Attempts to collect fingerprints from the office were stymied by the existence of too many overlapping prints. Smith later testified that processing the back-exit door was on his to-do list, but by the time he returned from the hospital someone (who had to be a police officer) had opened it and there was no point in testing for prints or blood (this would emerge as a major issue at trial). The building owner advised the police to search the pit under the elevator in the basement and under a grate covering a culvert in the back alley.

  It appears that the police did not even photograph the back door until 2015, four years after the crime. In addition to the issue of the door, there was some definite sloppiness to the SJPF’s handling of the crime scene. Part of the problem was that Smith was the only forensic-identification officer on duty that day. Police investigations are increasingly under greater scrutiny in terms of crime-scene continuity and the chain of evidence, meaning the need to professionally collect, document, secure, and track the use of exhibits such as photographs, blood swabs, and fingerprints. Although the SJPF had various systems, including a computerized database, for tracking evidence, during the early investigation it appeared to fail in terms of basic low-tech investigation work. As noted earlier, someone opened the rear door before it could be checked, officers used the second-floor bathroom before it could be processed, and there were probably too many officers accessing the actual Far End Corporation office, especially before the body was removed. This is an important detail because blood, even stains not visible to the eye, can adhere to objects such as door handles.14 Although officers are supposed to keep notebooks and write up “narratives” of events on their shifts, at the preliminary inquiry and trial no one could remember who had opened the door. And unlike cops in television shows, it is not clear that SJPF members even thought to wear disposable gloves when at the scene (for example when they returned to the Far End office on July 9 for another search).15

  An important part of Smith’s work was swabbing the scene for blood, a substance that was in plentiful supply, although then dried. Just prior to 7:00 P.M. as Smith was still processing the scene, two RCMP tech-crime specialists arrived from J Division in Fredericton. Payman Hakimian, a civilian with almost twenty years’ experience with the RCMP, had carried out dozens of investigations into economic crimes and was an expert on seizing, copying, and analyzing digital evidence with software. He was accompanied by Sergeant Pierre Bourguignon, officer in charge of the Integrated Tech Crime Unit in Fredericton. The men waited for Smith to complete his tasks and as they entered the crime scene they donned protective booties before beginning their work. Starting at 9:00 P.M., they photographed, documented, and seized a dozen devices from the office, including computer CPUs, digital cameras, an iPad, and an external storage drive. To avoid active computers from updating files and programs when powered down, they simply pulled out their power cords. The seized items were loaded into the unit’s vehicle and taken back to Fredericton, where “forensic duplicates” were made of each hard drive and its files. Hakimian’s task was not to analyse the content of various data files (this was left to the SJPF) but he was interested in any computer activity that could help establish a timeline for Richard Oland on July 6. The key device was the main computer at the desk where Richard had been killed. Crime-scene photos indicated a white Apple connector cord plugged into that unit. One of the key findings would be the exact time that the victim had last used his computer to “sync,” or backup, his iPhone 4 on the day of the murder.

  The next day, July 8, was an important stage in the investigation as the forensic examination of the victim’s body and the autopsy were conducted. The provincial Coroner Act mandates that in cases of deaths suspected to be caused by violence, accident, negligence, or misconduct, or in cases of sudden or unexpected death, the coroner must be notified. The corpse of the victim is under the custody of the coroner until after the autopsy is performed, usually within a day or two of the discovery of a body. Prior to the autopsy, Sergeant Smith and Constable David MacDonald conducted an examination of the body that lasted several hours. This involved using a CrimeScope forensic light source, taking digital photographs, taping the clothing of the victim for hair and fibres, swabbing the hands, checking between the fingers for loose hairs (possibly grabbed during a struggle with the attacker), and clipping the fingernails in case biological matter deposited underneath could reveal the DNA of an unknown person. Smith and MacDonald, assisted by morgue attendant Kirk Sweezey, found thirty-one hairs or fibres on the body, including two hairs in the victim’s hands. After the initial exam was completed, the clothing, including a bloodstained shirt, was seized and bagged as was the victim’s Rolex. Before the actual autopsy, the body was washed down, and x-rays were taken to determine if any foreign objects, such as knife blades or bullets, were in the victim. In addition, a penile swab was collected, and blood, urine, and vitreous fluid were extracted. The purpose of the bloo
d, extracted from the femoral artery, was to allow a crime lab to establish a DNA profile of the victim. Vitreous fluid, which is found within the eyeball, is a standard forensic pathology substance for testing for the presence of alcohol, drugs, or toxic substances.

  The head was shaved, and then each injury was photographed, numbered, measured, and documented. Smith noted forty wounds to the head and six sharp-force injuries to the victim’s hands. There were also a minor bruise on Oland’s chest and small cuts in the bridge of his nose and chin. Sharp incise wounds, no doubt defensive in nature, were found on both hands and the right wrist. There was one abrasion on the neck and five round contusions or impressions, 2.5 to 3 centimetres in diameter, on the head: three near the left ear and two near the right. The circular impressions revealed a cross-hatch pattern. No evidence was presented at the trial as to the sequence of blows. There was major trauma on the back of the victim’s head, but most of the damage was on the left side (the side facing up when he died). Given the broken fingers and cuts to his hands, it is likely that Oland initially had faced his attacker before being overwhelmed. Then he was hit one or more times with either a blunt or sharp-edged weapon before he went to the floor. There, in the words of one witness at the trial, he was slaughtered. There were more than thirty sharp, incised wounds to the scalp and skull.16

  Pathologist Dr. Ather Naseemuddin, assisted by Sweezey, began the autopsy at 4:30 P.M. It was not completed until close to midnight. Dr. Naseemuddin, who obtained his MD in India and trained as a pathologist in the United States, was fairly new to the job. Unlike in television shows, the pathologist did not speak into a recorder but was assisted by the police officers who made notes. The pathologist noted that the victim was a generally healthy man (his only medication had been the anti-anxiety drug Paxil). In preparing his report, Naseemuddin reviewed photos taken at the crime scene and the radiologic examinations of the head, neck, chest, and hands. The x-rays revealed fractures on both sides of the skull and of finger bones on both hands. The toxicology tests indicated a low level of ethyl alcohol in the urine (23 milligrams per decilitre), which suggested “alcohol consumption several hours prior to death.” The pathologist also catalogued the wounds and retracted the scalp to measure and document the true extent of the injuries. The cross-hatched pattern of the five blunt-force wounds on the head were new to him. Many of the cutting or chopping blows overlapped, so that on the left posterior there was a generally traumatized area almost as big as a cellphone. The examination of the skull revealed fourteen fractures, some penetrating into the brain area. Compounded with the fact that there had been brain matter on the floor at the scene, these fractures confirmed the obvious: the attacker had focused most of their rage on Oland when he was on the ground. One further fracture was detected: the orbital plate around one eye. This may have been caused when the victim fell to the floor. Naseemuddin concluded that death had resulted from “multiple sharp and blunt force injuries to the head.”17 His report did not offer any opinions on the type of weapon or weapons involved, the height or “handedness” of the attacker, or the time of death. The final stages of an autopsy are not for the faint of heart. After examining and measuring the wounds, the doctor usually opens up the chest cavity and examines that state of and weighs each organ, and then opens up the skull and removes and examines the brain. The organs are then replaced and the body sewn up in preparation for embalming and other procedures at the funeral home. The victim was embalmed and prepared for his funeral by funeral director Sharlene MacDonald, who had helped remove his body from his office.

  After he returned to the police station later that evening, Smith, using a forensic light and a Hemastix blood-screening test, examined the logbook that Dennis had picked up during his visit to 52 Canterbury Street. This item appears to have been voluntarily surrendered by its owner, Jack Connell, who later demanded it back. (Without having the full disclosure for this case, some of the evidence details are difficult to track.) The book was a log for a family camp on Long Island in the Kennebecasis River that extended back to the early 1900s, and one of its past entries made reference to a younger “Dick” Oland. If blood and DNA (particularly that of the victim) could be discovered on this article, it would be highly damning to the victim’s son, who had dropped it off to his mother’s house early on July 7. The logbook would be examined in more detail by Const. MacDonald in December.

  On July 8, police supervised the first of two underwater searches at Renforth Wharf, a popular park and swimming spot located between the Renforth Boat Club and the Kennebecasis Rowing Club. This is where Dennis had told police he stopped after visiting his father on the evening of the sixth. Officers also checked the area around the nearby Bill McGuire community centre and the shoreline of the river. The rowing club in the area was presumably where the Oland children did their kayaking. A week later, a search was carried out of the woods near a ball field to the west of the park. The river currents near the wharf are weak and the water is not very deep, so presumably an object deposited there would have been discovered. The search was conducted by five divers from All-Sea Atlantic, who used special cameras that revealed debris on the riverbed. (As part of disclosure, defence counsel were given video footage that was four hours long). Nothing of forensic value was found. The distance from the wharf to Dennis’s home is 4.6 kilometres. The author examined the area in 2016 and the wharf projects roughly 20 metres into the Kennebecasis River. The distance from the centre of the water-side edge of the paved parking lot, where two witnesses were parked on July 6, is 30 metres or more. The witnesses saw a man, who was wearing a sports jacket and carrying a bag, walk to the end of the wharf and briefly sit down on the edge facing upriver towards Rothesay. This meant that his back would have been at an angle from anyone in the parking lot. Although the witnesses did not see any objects deposited into the river, given the distance and the angle, it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to determine from the parking lot if the individual held anything in his hands. (Oland’s account of his stop at the wharf, another curious detail in the case, will be discussed in a subsequent chapter.)

  Following his police interrogation and the news of his father’s passing, Dennis Oland must have been under considerable stress. In addition to dealing with the news of the crime, he had to help prepare the funeral.18 It was either an innocent coincidence that created bad optics, or an incriminating example of post-offence behaviour, but on July 8, ten hours after Dennis left the police station, someone dropped off dry cleaning and laundry to VIP Dry Cleaners in Rothesay under the name of Lisa Oland. The order included two sports jackets, a pair of pants, and sixteen shirts. The business, close to the Oland home, is situated in the heart of the Rothesay commercial strip and operated by a Korean-Canadian couple who use environmentally friendly dry cleaning methods. The previous evening Dennis had been told he was a suspect in his father’s death and that the SJPF would be applying for search warrants, so he had to expect his behaviour would be monitored. He did not appear to know that he was under surveillance. One of the items dropped off for dry cleaning that morning was a brown Hugo Boss jacket. During his interview the night before, Dennis told Const. Davidson that he had worn a navy blazer on the sixth. Yet eyewitness testimony and security-camera footage suggested that Dennis sported a brown jacket on the day he visited his father. The defence would maintain that the clothing was dropped off by Lisa in preparation for Dennis’s attendance at funeral-home visitations for his father on July 10 and 11, followed by the funeral on July 12. There was no evidence as to who actually dropped off and picked up the clothing the next day. The police, although supposedly having a tail on their suspect at the time, appear to have been unaware of the trip to the dry-cleaning establishment until July 14. On Saturday, July 9, after someone had already picked up the order, Lisa dropped by to pay and there was testimony at trial that Dennis waited for her in the car. What they took home, a freshly dry cleaned Hugo Boss jacket, would be the most contentious piece of p
hysical evidence in the entire case.

  One text on crime-scene investigation argues that jurors “expect physical evidence in a trial.”19 With the Oland case, physical evidence such as DNA was the only sure route to laying a charge. In the days that followed the discovery of the body, the SJPF gathered and collated evidence and statements in order to apply for a series of search warrants. A layperson might object to the fact that Dennis Oland, if guilty, had several days after his interrogation to dispose of evidence, but search-warrant applications have to list reasonable grounds and stand up to judicial review. According to defence lawyer David Lutz, this is “just the way it works.” In many cases, the documents to obtain a warrant are completed by police officers and are not vetted by Crown attorneys.20 The police also continued to talk to people, such as some of the musicians who occasionally used the third floor of 52 Canterbury for practice. There had been no musical activity on the evening of July 6.

  On July 9, Smith was back at the scene, looking for a weapon, documents, and other items. He collected a number of blood swabs, marking the spots with stickers and photographing them. The goal here was to develop a DNA profile of the assailant or assailants, in case they had been injured during the attack, and determine if there were any other victims. He also took measurements and made a sketch of the crime scene. At some point, Maureen Adamson visited the office to advise investigators about possible missing items. She listed Oland’s iPhone 4, the logbook, and a will as items she believed had been in the victim’s office at the time of his murder. Other information gathered that day included her husband’s statement to Const. Copeland about the man seen outside the Far End office at approximately 5:30 P.M. on July 6. John Dickinson, who lived in a third-floor apartment at 56 Canterbury Street, next to Printing Plus, told police that he had not heard any unusual noises on the evening of July 6. Const. Breen reviewed security-camera footage from Brunswick House on July 6, which appeared to show Dennis exiting the building wearing a brown jacket and carrying books, and footage from other cameras, which depicted a silver VW Golf driving east on King Street and south on Canterbury. Constable Sean Rocca tracked down a cellphone at the victim’s residence but determined that it was not the missing iPhone 4.