Blood in the water A true story of small-town revenge

Review by Booklist Review

Canadian author Cameron, who lived for decades on Isle Madame off the coast of New Breton in Nova Scotia, and who died in 2020, examines the 2014 murder trial of a fisherman who was one of several people involved in the disappearance and possible death of a neighbor. James Landry was accused and later convicted of causing the death of Phillip Boudreau, who was well-known in the small, tight-knit Acadian community for stealing lobsters and vehicles, aggravating his neighbors, and generally creating havoc. Cameron's well-documented, if perhaps overly detailed, account moves back and forth from the trial, where both the defense and the prosecution seem detached from the feelings and reactions of the community, and interviews with many members of that community, most of whom are more than ready to talk about their feelings about the case as long as their names aren't used.This is an absorbing study of the way an isolated community handles conflict as well as the failures of the Canadian legal system.

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

In this superb true crime account, Canadian author Cameron (Warrior Lawyers: From Manila to Manhattan, Attorneys for the Earth) examines a complex homicide case while questioning whether justice was done. On the morning of June 1, 2013, in the waters off Isle Madame, Nova Scotia, deckhand James Landry and two other lobster men aboard the Twin Maggies spotted notorious troublemaker Phillip Boudreau, who had a lengthy record as a lobster trap poacher, in his speedboat among their lobster pots. Afraid he was stealing from them again, Landry fired four shots at Boudreau's boat, which then collided with the Twin Maggies. Boudreau fell overboard and was never seen again. Though the exact circumstances were in dispute, the prosecutor's office concluded that Landry, the former owner of the Twin Maggies' lobster license, deliberately killed Boudreau, largely based on testimony from the second deckhand. Besides thoroughly covering the trial, which ended with Landry's manslaughter conviction, Cameron fleshes out the backstories of everyone involved, endeavors to resolve what actually happened (including who was responsible for Boudreau's death), and explores the morality of taking the law into one's own hands when law enforcement proves unable to offer protection. This is an instant true crime classic. Agent: Denise Bukowski, Bukowski Agency. (Nov.)

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

How a small fishing community responded to the violent death of one of its most notorious citizens, a man with a reputation for vandalizing lobster traps and threatening livelihoods. In this true-crime saga, Cameron, who died in 2020, examines the 2013 killing of Phillip Boudreau by three Nova Scotian lobster fishermen. The author weaves together local testimony with his own commentary on the official investigation into the crime, the various trials that followed, and the complex reactions of a community exasperated by the shortcomings of the justice system. Cameron provides a rich and revealing portrait of contemporary Acadian culture, which he documents with an insider's comprehensive knowledge. He artfully links the central drama to broader discussions about socio-economic inequality, natural resource management, police interrogation tactics, and the consequences of a loss of faith in law and order. Boudreau, a career criminal who had long preyed on his neighbors but was also known for his charisma and selective generosity, is skillfully rendered here as an enigmatic villain/victim. Cameron convincingly argues that his death illustrates how a brutal vigilantism could not help but erupt with the breakdown of "two distinct systems of law": a community's informal self-regulation, which lacked solidarity in restraining Boudreau, and its formal counterpart in "prosecutors and juries and courthouses," which proved too narrow in its focus and "barely even suspects that it failed." In the concluding chapter, the author offers a series of astute recommendations about how such systems might be reformed and points to the value of turning for inspiration to Indigenous traditions of justice. Though the momentum of the storytelling flags near the end, Cameron provides an illuminating view of the inner workings of the Canadian legal system and one of the communities it is meant to serve. An often gripping, insightful examination of a well-known crime and the Acadian milieu in which it took place. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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Prologue It was in 2013 that Phillip Boudreau was dropped--allegedly--to the bottom of the sea, but his neighbours would not be entirely surprised if he walked out of the ocean tomorrow, coated in seaweed and dripping with brine, smiling. After all, Phillip had often vanished for long periods during his forty-three years, and he always came back to where he'd grown up--Alderney Point, at the edge of the Acadian village of Petit de Grat on Isle Madame, Nova Scotia. Afterwards it would turn out that he had been in prison, or out West, or hiding in the woods. Perhaps the police had been looking for him and he'd have tucked himself away in other people's boats or trailers, or curled up and gone to sleep in the bushes of the moorland near his family's home, his face coated with droplets of fog. He and his dog often slept in a rickety shed outside his parents' home, where the narrow dirt road ends at the rocky shore of Chedabucto Bay. He'd even been known to hollow out a snowbank and shelter himself from the bitter night in the cold white cavern he'd created. He was a small man, perhaps five-five, with a goatee and a ready smile. He usually dressed in jeans, sneakers, a windbreaker, a baseball cap. Whenever he was released from prison, word would go around Isle Madame: Phillip's out. Lock the shed, the barn, the garage. Phillip's out. If your boat's missing, or your four-wheeler, talk to Phillip. Maybe you can buy it back from him. Phillip's out. If you want a good deal on a marine GPS, an outboard motor, a dozen lobsters, check out the Corner Bridge Store and Bakery. Phillip likes to hang out there. He ties up his speedboat, Midnight Slider, at a little dock nearby. Some people loved Phillip. He could be funny, helpful, kind. He was generous to old people, good with animals, gentle with children. Other people hated and feared him, though they tended to conceal their feelings. If you crossed him he might threaten to sink your boat, shoot you, burn down your house. He could make you fearful for the safety of your daughter. Would he actually do anything violent? Hard to say. If you went to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police detachment in nearby Arichat, they would tell you they couldn't do much until he actually committed an offence. Perhaps they'd tell you that you could get a peace bond, a court order directing Phillip to stay away from you and your family and your property. From time to time the Mounties would arrest Phillip for "uttering threats"--or for any of a dozen other offences--and send him back to prison. But he'd be out again soon enough, and if you'd helped put him inside, watch out. So most people quietly avoided Phillip, carefully steering around him the way a lobster boat navigates a rocky shoal. He did a tidy little business in hallucinogens and was available as a vandal for hire, particularly with respect to lobster traps. An Isle Madame lobster trap is a baited wooden cage weighted with rocks and lying on the sea floor. It's tied by a long slender rope to a buoy that floats at the surface. The fisherman hooks the buoy, hauls up the trap, and removes his catch; then he rebaits the trap and drops it overboard again. The trap is worth about $100, but the value of the lobster it catches can be in the thousands of dollars. Nothing prevents a poacher from hauling someone else's traps in the middle of the night and selling the lobsters as his own. And if the buoy rope is cut off, the owner can't even find the trap. If I have a grudge against you, what better way to harm you than to slide out at midnight and cut a bunch of your traps? But if you catch me at it the outcome won't be pretty. So if I don't want to take a chance on doing it myself, I can always hire Phillip. Phillip Boudreau was by no means the only man who ever cut traps in Petit de Grat, but he was the dominant figure in that line of work. He would also take credit for things he hadn't done, just to bolster his reputation as a crafty rascal operating by stealth and beyond the reach of the law. A Fisheries officer who confronted him had the tires of his car slashed. When he bought new tires, those were slashed too. Phillip? Try to prove it. If you confronted him, he'd just smile. Phillip could make your life a misery--but if he was your friend and thought you needed something he would provide it, whether or not he owned it. So you had to be careful about idly voicing your desires. And then, from time to time, he would disappear--for days, or weeks, or months. But he always cropped up again. There had been attempts to kill him--conspiracies, even. But on June 1, 2013, he was said to have been drowned--and not by thugs or druggies but by highly respected local fishermen. A lot of people thought the very idea was ridiculous. Phillip was wily and resilient and he swam like a seal. Trying to drown him would be like trying to drown a football. No doubt he was hiding out somewhere. But he was never seen again. Excerpted from Blood in the Water: A True Story of Small-Town Revenge by Silver Donald Cameron All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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