Mike on Crime (19 page)

Jose Manuel Toruno did manage to get the Crown to back down, as he pleaded guilty to a reduced charge of second-degree murder. He was given a mandatory life sentence with no chance of parole for at least 15 years.

“This murder was coldly conceived and deliberately executed,” said Queen's Bench Justice Glenn Joyal upon hearing the facts. That included Crown attorney Mark Kantor saying how the men “buried her alive.” “She was subjected to a prolonged, horrific suffering. [The killers] had a callous disregard for human life,” Kantor said.

A copy of the men's police interview was tendered as evidence at the sentencing hearing. In it, Plourde claims he was driven to kill Roxanne because she ignored his repeated attempts to sever their relationship. “I didn't want to be part of her life, but she didn't take no for an answer,” Plourde told Winnipeg police homicide detectives in the February 2007 videotaped confession. “She was crazy about me. She had an obsession with me. I just couldn't take it. Like, I'm 19. I can't handle a 24-year-old.”

Plourde said he was facing additional pressure after learning Fernando was pregnant, a claim he initially thought was a ruse to keep them together following a brief romance that began while working together at McDonald's. “In my fears, she'll come back in nine months with a kid or something,” he said. “I don't understand why she liked me because I didn't like her. I'm just a young punk. I showed no interest in her.”

Police repeatedly pressured Plourde to tell them what happened to Fernando and lead them to her body. He initially denied involvement, even volunteering to take a polygraph test, but broke down following hours of questioning. “I've been living a lie,” he said. “I thought she was crazy. But in the end, I ended up being crazy.”

Elisa Fernando had confronted her daughter's youngest killer two years earlier in court. Now she had more words to share with the other two responsible for Roxanne's death. “When a husband loses his wife or when a wife loses her husband we call them widows. When a child loses his parents we say they are orphans. But when a mother loses a child there is nothing because no word in this life can possibly define such loss and pain. I feel so betrayed by this and regret that I let her go out that night. She had no idea she was in danger. I have so much regret and always the question of ‘what if'?'. My feelings of hurting are beyond imagination. I could write and speak about being hurt but it will never end.”

Plourde was in tears as he spoke to Fernando's family. “I'm sorry to you, Roxanne's mother and father, who lost a daughter. I'm sorry to you, Roxanne's siblings, who lost a sister. I regret everything I did and take full responsibility for my actions,” he said.

Toruno's father was a local minister who wrote a letter read aloud by defence lawyer Greg Brodsky. The man said he was praying for his son, Fernando and her family. “I always teach my children to respect others, as the Bible instructs. Jose is not a bad kid. He made a mistake. Everybody does,” he said. “I've been waiting a long time for this day to come so I can apologize to you,” Toruno said. “I can't imagine how you feel. I hope that one day you take the time to forgive me. These words are coming from my heart. God bless you.”

Joyal questioned the sincerity of the two killers given the way they acted after the slaying. He noted Toruno even took the chocolates and stuffed animal that Fernando had brought for Plourde and gave them to his girlfriend.

“You knew when you left her that she was still alive. You knew these were the gifts of a woman you had just helped murder,” Joyal said.

R
od Bruinooge, MP for Winnipeg South, eventually took up the cause and proposed private member's Bill C-510, which was nicknamed “Roxanne's Law.” He wanted to amend the Criminal Code to make it a separate offence to coerce a woman into an abortion. The hope, Bruinooge said, would be to stop men from the type of pressure that was applied to Roxanne in the days before she was killed. Bruinooge was adamant the proposed legislation had nothing to do with trying to outlaw abortion. “No pregnant woman should ever have to choose between protecting herself and protecting her baby,” he said.

Parliament voted down the bill in December 2010 by a count of 178 to 87. Among the more notable “No” votes were Prime Minister Stephen Harper and many prominent cabinet ministers. In fact, many Conservatives voted against it, as did all NDP and Bloc members. “The prime minister has always said he wouldn't support a bill that reopens the abortion debate,” Harper spokesman Andrew MacDougall told reporters.

“The focus of this bill was always pregnant women facing domestic abuse,” Bruinooge said at the time. He vowed to continue working on the issue, although no similar legislation has since been tabled.

Meanwhile, Roxanne's youth killer—now an adult—is back in the community after serving his full prison term. He still can't be named under provisions of the YCJA. Plourde and Toruno, of course, are still years away from even having a shot at release.

LEGAL LOTTO

I
t's often said that money is the root of all evil. I definitely saw the ugly side of wealth while covering a scandal over a winning lottery ticket. This case had it all: Compelling characters, allegations of fraud and deceit, surprise witnesses, conflicting stories, betrayal, backstabbing and plenty of riveting courtroom theatre. Many folks were quick to pick sides, triggering intense debate over who was in the right. It's one of the few civil court trials I've ever covered. But it remains one of the most memorable cases in local legal history.

MONDAY MARCH 20, 2000

They were Manitoba's newest multi-millionaires. And they were, somewhat reluctantly, emerging from a self-imposed bubble to face the public. After sitting on their winning ticket for the past week, Larry and Helen Tessier were now ready to come forward to claim their $11.4 million jackpot—the largest ever handed out in provincial history.

The Winnipeg couple was still in shock as they were introduced by provincial lottery officials at a news conference. Larry, a maintenance worker at Winnipeg Transit, explained how he didn't initially believe his wife of nearly 25 years when she checked their Lotto 6/49 numbers in the paper at work and called to say they'd won. Helen, who was employed with Manitoba Public Insurance, admitted she had to look a few times to ensure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her.

“The last few days we haven't ate or slept,” Larry told a throng of media. He explained how he had purchased the Quick Pick ticket when he stopped to gas up at a Shell Select service station on Notre Dame Avenue. After verifying the numbers were the right ones and that they were the only winners, the couple gathered their thoughts and some clothes and left town to consider their future.

It was overwhelming, the realization that they suddenly had more money than they could have ever imagined. “It's a state of unbelief that you can only experience if you go through this,” said Larry, 50. He was asked how it might impact their lives and their relationship. He cracked a joke about sleeping with one eye on each other before they finally cashed in the ticket. One decision had already been made: Neither wanted to move from their Transcona home. There were just too many memories. A few purchases were already spoken for, namely some much needed appliances for their kitchen. The rest would be sorted out later. For now, they were basking in the glory, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy in a situation that was anything but.

MONDAY NOVEMBER 6, 2000

It was a legal bombshell the likes of which had never been seen before. Court documents filed in Manitoba Court of Queen's Bench had the downtown courthouse buzzing. And it wasn't long before they made their way to the front page of the
Winnipeg Free Press.
Corazon Macatula, a Filipino home-care worker who lived in the city's north end, was claiming to be the rightful owner of half the $11.4 million Lotto 6/49 prize handed out eight months earlier.

In her affidavit, Macatula said Larry and Helen Tessier had lied to lottery officials—and the general public—about the nature of their high-profile win. She claimed she was the one who actually bought the winning ticket from a Notre Dame Avenue gas station, as part of an ongoing deal she had with an elderly client, Jean Tessier.

The family's lawyer immediately fired back, denying the allegations and vowing to file a statement of defence. “From their perspective this is just sad. But they have no choice but to defend it,” said John Scurfield.

According to Macatula, she and Jean Tessier had been buying 6/49 tickets together since 1998 and had a standing, oral agreement to split any winnings. They even shared a handful of $10 winning tickets only weeks before the big one, and had joked that their luck appeared to be changing for the better, the lawsuit claimed. However, Macatula said she had been completely shut out of the winning prize, as the Tessier family promptly claimed it as their own. According to the lawsuit, Larry and Helen had split the winnings with their three sons, his two brothers and his mother, Jean. All family members were named in the lawsuit.

“Obviously, we have two very different stories here. Somebody is not telling the truth,” said lawyer Bill Olson, who was acting on behalf of Macatula. He said his client was not seeking publicity and simply wanted “what she believes is hers”—exactly $5,700,951.85.

Olson said Macatula did not have any written agreement with her elderly client but relied on trust. Macatula would buy $5 worth of tickets every Wednesday and Friday, and Tessier would pay her $2.50 every time she would deliver the tickets to her, he said. Olson said he tried to quietly resolve the case with the Tessiers' lawyer over the last few months with no success. Now the stage was set for what promised to be a juicy legal showdown.

SPRING 2001

It appeared there was no resolution in sight. Six months after the lawsuit was filed, both sides remained in legal limbo. And it was clear there were two vastly different stories being presented.

In the family's statement of defence, they admitted to deceiving lottery officials about the true nature of the win. And they confessed it was Macatula who delivered the winning ticket to Jean Tessier. The couple claimed Jean Tessier, who had a heart condition and was in poor health, wanted to avoid the publicity of a major lotto win and agreed to have her son and daughter-in-law in the limelight. “In order to avoid the stress of the media attention which would accompany such a sizable purse and to protect the health of Jean Tessier, it was agreed between Jean and Helen and Larry that they would represent to Manitoba Lotteries Corporation and the media that they were the sole holders on the ticket,” their documents stated.

However, the family said Jean Tessier paid for the ticket in full and had no existing lottery arrangement with Macatula. Larry Tessier claimed it was he who had an ongoing lotto partnership with his mother for more than a decade, and all winnings should stay in the family. The couple said they had “no direct knowledge who originally bought the ticket or where it was purchased.”

Both sides had now agreed to an “expedited” trial to deal with the key issue of whether an agreement was in place for Macatula and Jean Tessier to split any lottery winnings. Lawyers cited the elderly woman's poor health and age as factors for having a trial as soon as possible.

THURSDAY AUGUST 16, 2001

It had mystery. It had intrigue. And now it had a surprise witness coming forward with a potentially explosive piece of evidence. Mark Singh, an employee at the Avenue Meat Market on Selkirk Avenue, had just provided lawyers involved in the battle over an $11.4-million lottery ticket with key information. He first contacted the
Winnipeg Free Press
, then repeated his claims to lawyers during an audiotaped interview.

Singh was then expected to testify at trial that, until he emerged, was shaping up as one family's word against another's, with no independent witnesses to corroborate either version. “At first, I was a little hesitant to get involved. But I think [Macatula] is getting a raw deal, and it's not right,” Singh said.

Singh said he got to know Jean Tessier while delivering groceries to her home, located across the street from the Selkirk Avenue store, between 1996 and 1999. On several occasions, the senior would talk about the wonderful care she was receiving from Macatula, according to Singh. “She would say how she was so good to her, and how they even bought lottery tickets together. She said if they ever won they would split the money in half,” Singh said.

He said he was shocked to learn the elderly woman had hit the jackpot, with her family claiming the ticket was theirs alone. “A promise is a promise, and if they make an agreement, they should have to stick to it,” Singh said. Singh said he was an independent witness and had nothing to gain by coming forward. He said he only knew Macatula from meeting her once or twice in Jean Tessier's apartment but felt bad for her and her family.

MONDAY NOVEMBER 26, 2001

It was one of the largest civil cases involving individuals ever heard in Manitoba. Not surprisingly, the first day resulted in a standing-room-only crowd of friends and families of both parties, along with other lawyers and courtroom observers. “This is a fascinating case. Maybe we can get a larger courtroom and invite the law school down,” cracked Court of Queen's Bench Justice Sid Schwartz.

The first witness was no surprise. Corazon Macatula took the stand to plead her case and told of a special relationship she developed with Jean Tessier while tending to the elderly woman's numerous physical needs since 1997. “We were very close, like mother and daughter. Sometimes she called me daughter, good friend, partner, honey,” said Macatula, 49. Macatula said she and her family even visited Tessier in hospital after the senior suffered a heart attack in 1999, and the elderly woman requested she be reassigned to her care following her return home.

She also documented a history of financial struggles that forced her to continue holding down two jobs while the Tessier family enjoyed $5.7 million in lottery winnings she claimed they stole from her. She described being “shocked and upset” when Jean Tessier cut her out of a 50-per-cent share.

Macatula claimed she'd never bought a lottery ticket in her life until Jean Tessier asked her to become partners for the twice-per-week draws, with each paying for half the Quick Pick selections. Macatula said she purchased the tickets every week, then delivered them to Tessier to check the numbers. When her own mother became seriously ill in the Philippines in early 2000, Tessier told her to keep their fingers crossed, she said. “She told me we had to continue buying the lotto, because who knows, we might be lucky and I could go home,” said Macatula.

Only weeks later, Macatula said Tessier phoned her to claim they had struck it rich. The elderly woman claimed her son, Larry, had told her to keep quiet but promised to call her back within a day with more details, she said. “I was really so excited,” said Macatula.

The phone call never came, and Macatula said the next thing she saw was Larry and his wife, Helen, on television newscasts speaking to a throng of media about their lucky win. “She is simply being opportunistic and taking advantage of the fact she can demonstrate she was [Jean Tessier's] legs, to coin the vernacular,” the Tessier's lawyer, John Scurfield, said in his opening statement.

Macatula was given a written reprimand by her employers after her lawsuit revealed she had purchased lottery tickets for one of her elderly clients, which is a breach of conflict-of-interest guidelines she claimed to be ignorant of, the court heard.

Macatula, who was born and raised in the Philippines, came to Canada in 1990 along with her four-year-old son to join up with her husband, Nilo, who had immigrated four years earlier. With a reasonable grasp of the English language—courtesy of her elementary school training—Macatula immediately sought to upgrade her education. She had completed high school and a midwifery course back home, and worked a variety of jobs, including secretarial and garment factory work. At Red River College, she completed a six-month home-care course. She also took some computer training, followed by a six month geriatric nursing assistant's course at Convalescent Home. She landed casual employment with Manitoba Health in 1991. A daughter was born in 1995, and her husband took a night job as an auditor at a local hotel to help the family make ends meet.

Macatula also took on a second job, working every weekend at Convalescent Home. Now, with a husband and two children, aged 14 and 6, Macatula was still working 55 hours a week to make ends meet. Lawyer John Scurfield suggested she needed money fast so she could afford a trip to the Philippines to visit her ailing mother, but Macatula said she was only seeking what was rightfully hers. Scurfield asked why she didn't pursue the family more vigorously on her own or call local media outlets who were reporting on the Tessier's win.

“For over $5 million, why wouldn't you call her?” he asked.

“I trusted her. But I'm still waiting,” said Macatula.

TUESDAY NOVEMBER 27, 2001

They were strong words coming from a former friend of lottery winner Jean Tessier. But Lidia Shewchuk was adamant that the elderly woman had “lied to everybody” by claiming the lucky ticket belonged exclusively to her family and shutting her home-care worker out of the winnings. Shewchuk told a packed court she believed Corazon Macatula had a right to half of the Lotto 6/49 jackpot. Her claims were backed by several other witnesses who testified about their knowledge of a deal between Macatula and her elderly client to purchase lottery tickets and divide the winnings.

Shewchuk cleaned Jean Tessier's apartment between 1997 and 1999 while working as her home support worker. She said Tessier tried to get her involved in a lottery partnership. “She said ‘Lidia, come play with me, 6/49.' She said ‘you give a dollar, I'll give a dollar, we'll play and split winnings.' I said ‘I don't want to play Jean, I'm not a lucky woman,'” said Shewchuk.

She said she was initially thrilled when she saw Tessier's son Larry and his wife Helen claim the big prize. “I love these people, and I was so happy, like my own son had won the ticket. I said maybe this was a gift from God,” Shewchuk told court, adding the Tessiers became like a second family to her during her years of employment.

Shewchuk said Jean Tessier was stunned after learning Macatula was taking legal action against her family on the grounds she owned half the ticket under an oral agreement between the two.

“She told me ‘honest to God, this ticket was bought by my son,'” said Shewchuk.

Shewchuk believed the family and thought poorly of Macatula until reading a newspaper story earlier this year in which they admitted, in court documents, that they didn't purchase the winning ticket, but deliberately misled the public and Manitoba Lotteries.

“I like when people respect each other, not when they cheat and lie. She lied to me. She lied to everybody,” said Shewchuk. “I wish I could be here as a witness for Mrs. Tessier today, because she was my friend. But there's something fishy to this situation.”