Bristol smiled. “I just can’t.”

Ben nodded. “I understand. Look, I’m trying to locate the girls. I don’t even have their names—”

“Because they’re still protected,” Bristol said.

“Yes, I get that, but could you get word to your client on my behalf that I’d like to interview her for the book, as a biographer of the case? Her true name would be kept confidential, in keeping with the law.”

“I would if I could. But after her sentence was completed, she no longer stayed in contact with me. She had no reason to. I believe she changed her name and left the country.”

Ben sighed and nodded.

Reading his disappointment, Bristol said: “Ben, I’m sorry. Look, you just arrived in Manitoba and you’re going to be here for a while, right?”

“Yes.”

“All right, I have your contact information. If I can think of ways to help you, I’ll be in touch. Fair enough?”

“Sounds good.”

“I am a fan of your work.” Bristol pointed to several of Ben’s hardcovers on the bookshelf.

“Thanks.”

Shield and Sanctuary Legal Services was located in the Polo Park area of the city.

The nonprofit agency, which provided help for low-income clients, had its office in a redbrick professional building, sandwiched between an insurance broker and a dental clinic. Next to the building was a gas station, a liquor store and pet food store.

“Are you sure I can’t get you a coffee, Mr. Grant?”

“No, thank you.”

Belinda Walker, one of the girls’ lawyers, was friendly. In her sixties, the lines time had etched around her eyes and mouth vanished when she smiled. But her hair, now streaked with gray, tied in a taut ponytail, conveyed her seriousness in response to Ben’s request for cooperation. Seated behind her desk with its neat stacks of files, Walker steepled her hands.

“You must appreciate that there is little I can say to help you.”

“So I gather.”

“It was a complex case, a disturbing case. I have thoughts about it that I would love to share with you but the law prevents me from doing so.”

“That being said, couldn’t you even help me off-the-record with some insights, some direction?”

Walker touched her fingers to her lips and thought. “Their criminal records and personal information have been sealed. I know their fingerprints and DNA are in databases,” she said. “However, you could get the trial transcripts. That’s public record. You have to pay the copying fees.”

“Yes, thank you. I’ve made a request for the transcripts.”

“Still, that won’t tell you the whole story, the real story.”

“The real story?”

Walker began shaking her head at the memory of it all. “It’s very complicated. Let me think more about it, and I’ll get back to you if I can help.”