The courtroom hung silent as the defence rested its case in the trial of Frank Stronach, a billionaire facing accusations decades old. But the closing arguments weren’t focused on proving innocence; they illuminated a startling truth about the investigation itself – a process riddled with omissions and a reliance on assumption.
Leora Shemesh, Stronach’s lawyer, systematically dismantled the police work, questioning the lead investigators from Peel Regional Police’s special victims unit. Her inquiries weren’t about the events themselves, but about the fundamental steps taken – or, more accurately, *not* taken – to verify the claims of seven women.
The revelation was stark: minimal effort was made to corroborate the allegations. In the wake of the #MeToo movement, a prevailing attitude seemed to have taken hold – “believe them” – and, according to the defence, this became a substitute for diligent police work, leading to twelve charges against the 93-year-old Stronach, all of which he denies.
As the trial progressed, inconsistencies emerged in the testimonies of the accusers. These cracks in the narratives ultimately led the Crown to withdraw five charges related to three of the women, a direct consequence, the defence argued, of the initial lack of rigorous investigation.
Basic procedural safeguards were absent. Complainants weren’t asked to swear their statements were truthful, nor were they cautioned about the legal ramifications of false accusations. They weren’t informed their statements were formal documents with potential court use. It was a startling lapse in standard practice.
Officer Gabe Dinardo admitted he wouldn’t routinely instruct complainants to confirm the truthfulness of their accounts, and his notes reflected no such instruction. He explained it simply wasn’t his practice to demand a sworn statement.
Shemesh pressed further, questioning whether any background checks were conducted on the accusers. Were their social media profiles examined? Had they been involved in prior lawsuits? The answer was a hesitant “No, only if it became relevant,” revealing a reactive, rather than proactive, investigative approach.
One withdrawn complainant, it emerged, had a history of legal battles, including a lawsuit alleging she falsely accused someone of arrest. This information, the defence argued, should have been uncovered during a basic investigation.
“Do you ever actually challenge the narratives you’re being given?” Shemesh asked, her voice laced with disbelief. The officer’s response was telling: “Only if we had information to believe people were lying, which we did not. I’m going to believe someone unless I have evidence to show that they’re lying.”
The details grew more concerning. Allegations centered around a Harbour Castle condo, with one accuser mentioning mirrors on the ceiling. Yet, police didn’t verify the condo’s layout or even confirm Stronach owned a unit there. Instead, they mistakenly searched a nearby hotel for mirrored ceilings, based on a cleaner’s unreliable recollection.
Mentions of an underground garage were also never verified, despite evidence suggesting only above-grade parking existed at the time. The investigation appeared to accept assertions at face value, without independent confirmation.
Another allegation involved an apartment on Balliol St., but police didn’t investigate whether Stronach had ever rented a space there. The defence’s questioning highlighted a pattern: a willingness to accept claims without seeking corroborating evidence.
“So you assume everyone’s telling the truth, right? But then you don’t do anything to determine if they aren’t?” Shemesh pressed. The officer cited the passage of time as a limitation, explaining the lack of surveillance footage or other readily available evidence.
However, the defence pointed to potential documentary evidence – transportation records to verify Stronach’s ownership of a Porsche mentioned by one accuser, or border crossing records to confirm his presence in the country. These avenues were discussed, but ultimately dismissed as unlikely to “provide any value.”
Despite one accuser pinpointing a specific date – Valentine’s Day, 1986 – police didn’t bother to check Stronach’s travel records. Officer Ted Misev justified this inaction by claiming CBSA records only went back seven to ten years, a claim that proved inaccurate.
The rationale for not cautioning the complainants about the consequences of false statements was equally troubling. Investigators feared “scaring somebody from disclosing an intimate incident,” prioritizing encouragement over ensuring the integrity of the investigation.
The case raises a fundamental question: can the pursuit of justice be compromised by a presumption of guilt? While believing survivors is crucial, the defence argued, it cannot come at the expense of a thorough and impartial investigation, especially when someone’s freedom is at stake. Closing arguments are set to begin, promising a final reckoning with the shortcomings of this investigation.
