“This is the White Spruce Estates. Used to be three, now there are five buildings, mostly people on assistance. We get a lot of calls to The Estates.” Jurek nodded to the second building. “The third girl lived there with her mother and her mother’s boyfriend. The second-floor corner. To the left. That’s where we arrested her.”

Ben looked at the apartment from the car. A handful of little girls were playing jump rope in front. Ben likened the rope slapping the sidewalk to the pressure increasing in the young killer’s mind before she lost control. He took a few pictures and notes.

“How about some coffee before we move on?” Jurek said.

As they drove across town, Ben reflected on his meetings with the lawyers in Winnipeg. How they were reticent while hinting that the full story of the case was unknown.

I’ve got to dig deeper into that.

“All right, here we go,” Jurek said as he parked the SUV.

Mary’s Prairie Kitchen, a cozy downtown diner, smelled like cooked bacon, had a checkerboard floor, swivel stools at the counter and high-back vinyl booths. A woman in her fifties brought them coffee.

“Who’s your friend, Bill?”

After Jurek introduced Ben and explained why he was in Eternity, she rested one fist on her hip and looked him over.

“Come to think of it, I think I saw you on TV once.”

“That may well be.” Ben sipped some coffee. “This is good.”

“So you’re going to do a book on those girls?”

Ben nodded as he lowered his cup.

“Those little monsters got off easy for what they did,” she said.

“You think so?”

“Everybody does. Did you know they killed more than four people?”

Ben threw a glance to Jurek.

“I’m talking about their mothers,” the woman said. “All three women died not long after. Let’s see.” The woman counted on her fingers. “Accident, cancer, suicide. But I tell you it was the murders. They were too much for them. And every one of the women buried in the same cemetery as the people their daughters killed. The whole mess left a scar on Eternity. Put that in your book. Now, what can I get you, or is it just the coffee?”

“Well,” Ben said, “would you happen to know the names of the girls?”

The woman’s face whitened. “I do. But we’re not supposed to say. There are laws protecting their identities—isn’t that right, Bill?”

“It is.”

“Yeah, well it’s been twenty years and I say, damn it to hell, I’ll give you their first names, Janie, Nikki and Marie.” She glanced at Jurek. “Gonna arrest me, Bill?”

“Need a formal complaint.” Jurek turned to the window.

“Thank you,” Ben said to the woman, noting the names.

“You didn’t get that from me.” Jurek smiled.