drugs through sheer willpower. Living on public assistance was a severe, barebones existence, but Maria saw that her son was always well dressed and well fed, even if it meant that she had little money for her own needs. Like a lot of people on the Miramichi, they didn’t have much, but despite their tough circumstances Maria and her sister, Sharon, shared food when they could.
With Maria’s return to Miramichi, the two sisters were able to resume the friendship they had had as children, a comfort to Maria during the lonely years when David was incarcerated. Sharon’s daughter and B.J., who were close in age, became good friends.
Maria was an attractive woman, medium tall, with lovely long brown hair, large brown eyes and carefully shaped brows. Until despair over her son’s death rendered her depressed and couch-bound, Maria had been slim. She wasn’t a fashion plate; even if she could have afforded fancy clothes, she was far too outdoorsy for that. Even as a child, she’d been a tomboy and preferred fishing and climbing trees to more girly activities. She favored the comfort of jeans or tracksuits and sweatshirts, but she was very particular about her appearance and was absolutely passionate about her jewelry. Maria had a large collection of gold chains, necklaces and rings that had been gifts from David. She regularly wore a lot of her jewelry, and she took great pleasure in showing her friends each new piece. Even in casual pictures, she can be seen wearing a lot of gold. It was always gold for Maria, not silver. She loved to look good when she went out.
The Tanasichuks lived mostly on public assistance and the profits from drug sales. David only occasionally held down a job and Maria never worked. Some friends speculated that this was because the Tanasichuks’ reputation in the community was such that Maria thought it would be useless to even bother to try and find a job, as no one would hire her. Although they—and Maria in particular—had close relationships with friends, family and neighbors, in the wider Miramichi community they had a reputation. Maria’s best friend, Darlene Gertley, illustrated that reputation with the story of an encounter shortly after she moved to Miramichi and had her first child: “One time, I went down to the [gas station] and the lady asked how I was getting along and did you make any friends. And I said, yes, Maria and Dave Tanasichuk, and the woman said, ‘Oh, stay away from them.’ And I asked why. And she said, ‘They’re bad news. They’ve been in jail more than church.’”
At the time that David Tanasichuk reported his wife missing in January 2003, the long-standing adversarial relationship between the police and the Tanasichuks had changed. In the Fall of 2000, Detective Brian Cummings had met Maria Tanasichuk for the first time under tragic circumstances. That September 1st, a large group of teens—literally hundreds of kids—had held an end-of-summer, off-to-college party in the woods where they would be out of the public eye. During the course of the evening, a fight broke out between Maria’s son, B.J. Breau, and another young man. As kids stood around cheering and jeering, B.J. was knocked down. While he lay on the ground, the other boy began kicking him viciously. One blow struck B.J. in the chest and severed his aorta. He died before he could be taken to a hospital.
As a result of the investigation and legal proceedings arising from B.J.’s death, the Miramichi police, in particular Detective Sergeant Paul Fiander, head of the detective bureau, and Detective Cummings, developed a new relationship with David and Maria. No longer did the police come to the door of the small apartment as potential opponents inquiring about drug dealing or stolen goods; now they came as compassionate public servants dealing with the grieving family of a murder victim. B.J.’s death was devastating to both David and Maria. He was Maria’s only child (she lost her only pregnancy with David to an ectopic pregnancy) and he was like another son to David. David had a son of his own from a prior relationship, but it was his stepson who lived with him and he had helped raise B.J. for a decade.
In his iconic book on homicide procedures, Practical Homicide Investigation, Vernon Geberth describes the important relationship between investigators and the victim’s family this way:
“Secondary victims are those persons left behind when a…child…is prematurely deprived of their life due to a homicide. These persons are the survivors. The homicide detective has a profound duty and an awesome responsibility in dealing with the surviving family in the murder investigation process.”3
Then he lists the duties of the responding detectives. They include dealing with the emotions of the surviving family, establishing a base of inquiry which does not further traumatize the survivors, providing information about the circumstances of the death and the progress of the investigation and guiding the family through the complicated and confusing criminal justice system. The detective, Geberth says, becomes an advocate for the deceased and the surviving family throughout the process.
It was through this role that the new relationship between the Tanasichuks and the police was born. Because of their concerns about David’s fierce temper and consequent fears that he would be tempted to avenge his stepson’s death by taking matters into his own hands rather than letting justice take its course, the police were more closely involved with the Tanasichuks than with the families of many crime victims. It was also true, though, that Miramichi is a small city where people tend to know each other. Often, there is not the same distance between police and citizens that sometimes exists.
Over the course of their dealings with B.J. Breau’s family, certain members of the Miramichi police, typically Detective Cummings and Detective Sergeant Fiander, spent a great deal of time with David and Maria. Both officers, themselves fathers deeply devoted to their own sons, were very sympathetic to the plight of parents trying to deal with the devastating loss of a child.
As she struggled to comprehend the loss, they saw Maria’s demeanor begin to change. Through her upbringing, her personal experience with the criminal justice system and her marriage to a convicted felon, Maria had developed a resentful and suspicious attitude toward the police. As she experienced their kindness and support during her awful grief, a softer woman emerged.
It was impossible to be unmoved as they watched this lively, fun-loving, dynamic woman become couch-bound by depression. In the months following B.J.’s death, Maria began spending her days huddled under her special “sooky” blanket and cuddling the small, stuffed red devil bear that had been her last gift from her son.4 Some days she never got out of her pajamas.
The detectives also understood how ordinary citizens can struggle to comprehend the slow and oftentimes infuriating mechanisms of the criminal justice system. In the case of B.J.’s death, that included such decisions as whether the perpetrator, who was just shy of his eighteenth birthday, should be charged as a juvenile or an adult. Supporters had collected 1500 signatures on a petition for the court to have B.J.’s attacker, who had allegedly threatened to “get him” earlier in the evening, tried as an adult. The authorities chose not to take this route. It became the task of the police to explain these decisions to the Tanasichuks, support them through the resulting horse-trading that went on regarding the nature of the sentence and then through the sentencing itself, always with an awareness of David’s impulsive nature and his potential for a violent reaction. Many who knew him expected violence from David.
In the real world, the criminal justice system is not as swift as it appears to be on TV shows. Cases take time to make their way slowly through the system, a pace that—with multiple hearings, continuances and adjournments—can be agonizing torture for the family, who must go to court repeatedly, confront the perpetrator and appear as representatives of the deceased.
Over the period of nearly a year between B.J.’s death and when his assailant was finally sentenced, Brian Cummings found himself becoming quite close to David and Maria. Their apartment was only a short drive from the police station. Sometimes his visits would be to update them on the case. At other times, it would be a “wellness check,” just a quick stop in to wish them the very best. Occasionally, because their finances were tight, he would bring them treats, dropping by around suppertime with a lobster for Maria to cook, because he knew that she loved
