That advice from Kim Rossmo on an aborted attempt to link my sister’s murder with Quebec serial killer William Patrick Fyfe.
It went like this: I post a memorial to the death of Jim Clench, bassist for April Wine. A friend of Jimmy’s, who also knew Fyfe as a kid sends me an email: Did I ever stop to consider that Fyfe may have murdered Theresa Allore? I say, yes-yes… I investigated that, I ruled him out, but I can’t remember why, let me think on it a bit. I spend the next two days falling down a rabbit hole of suspicions and investigation.
Boy, the first 48 has been terrific…
Apparently Fyfe had been arrested in the Eastern Townships of Quebec as early as 1975-77 for driving a stolen vehicle. Also, despite news reports indicating that Fyfe committed his first murder in 1979, it is alleged that he actually committed murders as early as 1978, which would put him in the target area of Theresa’s murder.
So, a serial killer who operated in Montreal’s West Island (where my family grew up), who had cause to travel to the Eastern Townships (where my sister went to college and was found murdered), and who had committed murder as early as 1978 (when Theresa died).
I immediately began trolling the Internet for clues. I contact Kim Rossmo, Canada’s preeminent crime profiler; Paul Cherry, crime writer for The Gazette; and Kristian Gravenor, Montreal cultural archivist, and keeper of all of the city’s sleazy secrets at the blog, Coolopolis. I indulged in a crime and skank full-court-press.
Paul Cherry’s The Biker Wars
Then I come to my senses. I call up Benoit, my contact with the Surete du Quebec. We haven’t talked in over a year:
“- Benny, how are you… I was worried you’d retired.
– I have 5 more years Mr. Allore, how can I help you?
– I feel foolish, but did we ever look at William Fyfe?
– Yes Mr. Allore, remember? We determined he was in jail at the time of Theresa’s murder.
– I’m sorry Benny, I’m sorry, I forgot, I’m sorry to have bothered you.
– Mr. Allore, I understand you can call me any time.
– Bon weekend Benny!”
And that’s how it goes. On the one hand, this is what happens when I go back to my normal life: I forget things. On the other hand – and I preface this by saying I received immediate response from Kim and Paul and Kristian – I am extremely fortunate to have good friends in my corner looking out for my interests.
In the old days it would have been impossible to have the police, the press, the crime experts, and the watchdogs all at my immediate disposal.
Sleep in peace, I’m goin back to the country,