Four times in the years after the terrible night of the
shooting, Eddie came home and suddenly announced that he had found a nice place he would like to live and that it was time
to move. Four times they followed him, believing that Eddie the father and husband
was a simply a spontaneous man with an urge to find new ground. Oh, Linda began
to suspect that there was much more to it. One time, for example, a move was
preceded by a hushed visit from two plainclothes officers. Another time, it was
a bullet hole in Eddie’s parked car on the street in front of their home. Still
another time, when she opened the door to a stranger at the door, Toronto officers came out of nowhere, swept him away and
left Linda bewildered, wondering what was going on.
You see, although the older of the two killers, Craig Munro,
received a life sentence—he would end up in a minimum security prison with four unescorted passes each year. Jamie, who sat at his big brother’s side watching officer Sweet bleed on the floor, was only convicted
of second degree murder. All this heroin addict did wrong was participate in
the shootout and taunt Constable Sweet while he died an agonizing death—within earshot of Eddie Adamson. Jamie was out in a few years and has been skipping merrily around the world—and in and out of Toronto.
Things happened in addition to those observed by Eddie’s
wife. Toronto officers kept him informed of anonymous death threats made against
him through the department. They watched his home as much as they could. Eddie was warned and went on “high alert” whenever Jamie returned to Toronto. He remembered the family was a big one and had a reputation in the area. Eddie remained armed and ready to protect his family.
And when the danger came too close, he suddenly got an
“itch to move.” And always with him went the dark briefcase.
After Eddie’s passing, Linda finally took the briefcase
and stared at it for the longest time. Finally, with trembling fingers, she opened
it. In it, she found papers that took her breath away and made her head spin. Eddie had kept, over the years, files of the death threats, suspicious calls and incidents
that had kept him vigilant and protective of his family. Sheet by sheet, Linda
read the history of the years, some which she recognized and some which she didn’t.
All of it showed what her husband had been forced to deal with for 25 years—and how hard he had struggled to
protect his family.
In the briefcase, Eddie Adamson’s secret, was a nightmare
on top of a nightmare.
Perhaps things of this sort will not matter to the sages
who have been gathering in committee to lay down for us what it is that makes a hero.
Perhaps Sergeant Edward Adamson will not fit their definition.
But Linda and Julie Adamson know differently.
