The police revealed that, while they were monitoring Matticks, he went into a panic when someone was shot and killed near a garage he owned in Montreal. The police listened in as he asked his contacts if his brother “Richie” could be located. When he was interrogated after his arrest, one of the first questions
Matticks had for the police was whether his brother Richard had also been arrested. When he was placed under arrest, Matticks claimed to have no links to organized crime, yet he showed the arresting officers where he kept photos of investigators who had done surveillance on him. While Matticks was interrogated at the
RCMP'S
Montreal headquarters, the conversation turned to Maurice (Mom) Boucher. Matticks said he had merely loaned money to Boucher, and he claimed he had documents to prove the loan.
But Lekkas had given up too much information on Matticks. His statements pertaining to other smuggling operations implicated several other people, including Matticks' son Donald and Donald Driver. Both would be arrested later on and, ultimately, they each got an eight-year prison sentence.
Gerry Matticks agreed to a plea bargain that ensured he would never be called as a witness to testify in the United States, which had been a possibility as some of the drugs he smuggled into Quebec were destined for Newark, New Jersey.
“Mr. Matticks is not a member of a biker gang, but he did do business with them,” prosecutor Robert Rouleau said as he detailed the plea agreement the Crown had agreed to. Rouleau said that besides the tons of hashish, the police knew of at least 700 kilos of cocaine being sold to the Hells Angels by Gerald Matticks. Matticks' plea bargain had saved the prosecution a lot of time. His Project Ocean trial was expected to last four months, and another trial for new charges based on Lekkas' statements could have dragged on for another four months.
Lekkas' confessions to the police shook up Matticks' gang. One of the men arrested when Lekkas turned informant was John Mclean, a longtime member of the West End Gang. He, too, would decide to clean up his act while he and the others were
awaiting trial. He pleaded guilty in 2003 and received an eight-year sentence in exchange for testifying against Matticks' son, Donald Driver and the others. Donald Matticks, Driver and a few other men tied to the West End Gang pleaded guilty when faced with the prospect of a trial that would feature at least two informants. Once he had turned against Gerald Matticks, his partner in crime for 20 years, John Mclean feared for his life. In December 2004, the National Parole Board turned down his chance at day parole because it felt no halfway house in Montreal could be considered safe if Mclean were staying there, since he was still in Matticks' bad books.
In spite of all his charity and good deeds, Matticks was left with a bad reputation after all.
Only one of the so-called megatrials to emerge out of Project Rush ever actually made it all the way to a jury verdict. As the months clicked by following March 2001, the bikers began to be separated into groups for different trials. The groupings were based on their suspected level of participation in the biker war. One group was assembled together based on language. Hells Angels like Donald (Pup) Stockford and Walter (Nurget) Stadnick demanded to be tried in English, requiring the translation of hundreds of documents and wiretap transcripts.
By September 2001, Justice Réjean Paul realized he would have a logistical nightmare on his hands if there was indeed one megatrial. Prosecutors were pushing to have 36 of the 42 gangsters arrested in Project Rush tried together, but Justice Paul was against this. During some of the pretrial hearings, he stated that it was too much to expect of a jury and one judge â he dreaded the delays caused by 36 defense lawyers cross-examining a witness.
Two months later, Paul agreed that 14 of the Hells Angels and Rockers, selected because their suspected involvement in the 13 murders, could be tried as a group. Initially, Maurice (Mom) Boucher was expected to be among the 14, but he was still tied up with his second trial for the 1997 murders of two prison guards. By April 2002, a trial that grouped together 17 other gang members
began before a jury and a different judge, Justice Jean-Guy Boilard.
The first accused to become an informant was Stéphane (Blond) Faucher, a young drug dealer who was believed to have been introduced into the Hells Angels' network through Maurice (Mom) Boucher's friend Normand Bélanger. Faucher had been Bélanger's runner, helping him to move the drug ecstasy before either of them had joined the Rockers. After joining the Rockers at the entry-level position of a “hangaround” on October 13, 1998, Faucher began dealing drugs with Serge Boutin, another Rocker who would eventually turn informant. Boutin and Faucher formed a successful team, generating cocaine sales that impressed the Nomads chapter. Faucher was more willing to deal with the violent end of operating a drug business and was rewarded for it when he was made a prospect in the Nomads chapter in December 2000.
The promotions came even though Faucher had apparently made some mistakes as a Rocker. He had ordered a hit that did not go very well, which caused a heated argument during one of the Rockers
messes
. He had been ordered to set off bombs at five Montreal Urban Community Police stations, but they failed to go off because of faulty detonators.
Perhaps because of this botched bombing, Faucher's promotion was only temporary. At least one Nomads chapter member, Denis Houle, had serious reservations with Faucher being named a prospect in the Hells Angels, and eventually Faucher was told to return to the Rockers. After this demotion, Faucher apparently quit the gang altogether. The police noticed from the gang's accounting sheets that he was even barred from buying from the Nomads chapter.
The insult occurred within weeks of Operation Springtime 2001 being carried out. A few days after his arrest, Faucher asked for a transfer out of the Hells Angels' wing at the Bordeaux
detention center and asked for police protection. He told the police where they could find a weapons cache, and about how the Nomads basically controlled the flow of drugs to other Hells Angels' chapters in Quebec, except for Sherbrooke, which remained independent of Boucher's monopolistic ways. He also gave incriminating evidence against Serge Boutin that set off a chain reaction that caused Boutin to turn informant. But several months later, Crown prosecutor André Vincent had to admit in court that he was having problems with Faucher, his supposed star witness â the snitch wanted to back out of his deal. He refused to plead guilty to conspiring to murder members of the Alliance during the biker war, or to a gangsterism charge that would have doubled any sentence he received. Vincent said Faucher would have to testify either way, and that if he had to be called as a hostile witness, it would be done. This set up the scene for one of the more bizarre moments of the trial heard before Justice Pierre Beliveau. Faucher ultimately ended up pleading guilty to the charges anyway in October 2002 and received a 12-year sentence. But the question was still up in the air about what kind of witness he would be.
To say that the moment Faucher took the witness stand was bizarre would be an understatement. When Crown prosecutor François Briere asked the simplest of questions, like Faucher's age and where he had been born, the former Rocker stammered and mumbled things that were barely audible. Briere then asked Faucher what neighborhood he was from. Faucher didn't answer, but, sounding nervous, he turned to Judge Beliveau and started to spit out half sentences that made little sense. “They arrested me. The police got me on the street,” he said tossing in some French swear words for good measure. “All of this is a frame-up by two pigs.” He then named two of the lead investigators in Project Rush. These names were barely out of Faucher's mouth when near pandemonium took over the courtroom. Lawyers
jumped out of their chairs to object, and Beliveau tried to call for order. He shouted,
“une instant!”
several times, each one louder than the last. When calm was restored, Faucher was told he could only continue testifying by answering Briere's questions. But he continued his rambling speech. “When the birds arrived, they did their little story, their little song. Always the same two guys,” Faucher said claiming that he never intended to talk to the police and that he felt he had been burned by them.
“And now I find myself here. I refuse to testify. It's as simple as that.”
Briere asked Faucher if he was currently detained.
“I'm not answering anymore.”
At that point, defense lawyer Pierre Panaccio cut in. “Let me speak, I have something to say. I represent someone on trial here!” Panaccio shouted. He was referring to Richard (Dick) Mayrand, one of the more important gangsters on trial in the case. Again Beliveau called for order. But Panaccio bellowed that Faucher was willing to talk about an “exceptional situation” concerning the police investigation. He claimed that Faucher was willing to answer certain questions critical to his client's defense. Faucher listened quietly as Beliveau and Panaccio argued. He then continued again to sputter out half sentences. “Me, my gun, they did a ballistic on it simply because I obliged them to do it!” he blurted out.
“In April â” he began, but was interrupted. “Let me speak a minute! In April, I was brought ...I asked them, 'Christ, where is the gun? There is no gun.' All of a sudden they talk on the telephone and pretend they are doing ballistics.” Faucher sounded like a desperate man. He turned toward the judge and said that he wanted to talk to him in private. Beliveau excused the jury so the lawyers could sort out what to do next. After much discussion, Briere was allowed to try again with Faucher. The prosecutor again asked Faucher what neighborhood he came from.
“I'm sorry about before. But anyway. Even when they arrested me ...when they brought me to Parthenais [detention center], there weren't any cameras. There were all kinds of those things happening . . .”
“Excuse me. That is not the question,” Beliveau said cutting in. “What I want to know from you is are you going to answer the questions that are asked of you?” Faucher refused, and eventually he was sent back to his cell. He was later charged and convicted of contempt of court and saw another two years tacked on to the 12 years he was already serving.
Beliveau managed to keep the trial on the rails despite Faucher's outbursts. A remarkably patient man, Beliveau was not supposed to be in the judge's seat in that trial. He had been called in to pick up the pieces after Justice Jean-Guy Boilard dropped a bomb on the first trial to emerge out of Project Rush. On July 22, after 113 witnesses had testified and 1,114 exhibits had been entered into the record, Superior Court judge Boilard suddenly announced he was removing himself from the trial. He cited a letter from the Canadian Judicial Council that criticized him for remarks he had made to a defense lawyer during the unrelated bail hearing of a biker several months before the megatrial had started. The letter brought up similar past incidents where Boilard had verbally ripped into lawyers, and it further stated that he undermined the image of the magistrature as a whole. The letter had been leaked to a
CBC
reporter.
“I feel I no longer have the moral authority, and perhaps the required aptitude, to continue my role as arbitrator in this trial. The parties and their lawyers, as well as a reasonable observer, will always be justified in doubting the accuracy of my decisions or the aptness of my interventions, considering the comments of the Canadian Judicial Council,” Boilard said before leaving the stunned courtroom. His announcement left serious doubt as to what would happen to the already lengthy and costly trial.
But the provincial government took quick action and, within a week, Beliveau was named to replace his Quebec Superior Court colleague and was given the responsibility of deciding how to proceed. On August 7, 2002, after taking a week to assess the situation, Beliveau saw no other option but to end the trial and start from the beginning with a new jury. Before making his decision, Beliveau listened to the jurors, some of whom were openly bitter about Boilard's departure and especially the duration of the trial. At that point, the jury was already down to ten members due to illness.
Meanwhile, Boilard's decision to step down was questioned by Quebec's Auditor General, who took the rare step of asking the same council that had sent him the damning letter in the first place to investigate his actions in response to it. Such a request had only been made four times previous in the then 30-year history of the Canadian Judicial Council. Months later, the board would find that while Boilard had acted improperly, his actions were not grounds for removing him from the bench.
“Clearly, the judge's conduct was not that of a judge concerned with the due administration of justice and the image of detachment and calm which the judiciary should project to the public,” the council wrote in its final decision. “In view of all these circumstances, we consider that the conduct complained of did not make him incapacitated or disabled from the due execution of his office . . . and for these reasons we do not recommend the removal of Justice Jean-Guy Boilard.”
The wait for a new trial would be long, giving some of the accused time to rethink their strategy.
On November 18, 2002, the trial that once featured 17 Hells Angels and Rockers was whittled down to those 9 who had not accepted plea bargains. Crown prosecutor Madeleine Giauque
stood before Justice Beliveau and gave the condensed version of the case as she explained the guilty pleas.
“For more than five years, police forces were faced with a war between gangs for control of the sale of drugs throughout the entire province but principally on the streets of Montreal,” Giauque said. She then outlined in broad strokes the methods the police had used to conduct their investigation.