Anger over sentence in manslaughter case

It was an argument about the end of the world that finished with the end of a life.

Fuelled by vodka and weed, Robert Vandyk grabbed one of his new knives that can be worn “Wolverine style” and stabbed his best friend — the one who sheltered him, fed him and found him a job — once in the heart. The knife was stuck in Marcel Chartrand’s chest as he stumbled onto the front porch, splashing blood on his son’s high chair, before collapsing and dying in his wife’s arms.

Vandyk, who pleaded guilty to manslaughter, was sentenced Monday to what amounts to seven and a half years in prison. Marcel’s family and friends, about a dozen people, thought the sentence should be harsher and erupted in anger. His wife and another woman had to be dragged out of the courtroom by relatives and police into the hallway where they screamed, cried and kicked over garbage cans. Supporters who remained in the courtroom swore and shouted and threatened Vandyk’s attorney, Asgar Manek, who later had to be escorted to his car by court security officers.

“It’s a living,” Manek said as he exited the building.

Vandyk and Marcel had been friends since they were 16. When Vandyk had nowhere to go in 2016, Marcel, 31, took him in.

Vandyk, who has a long and violent criminal history, a lifetime of drug and alcohol abuse and was on a court order not to drink or possess weapons, stayed at the King Street East apartment Marcel shared with his wife Ashley Stewart, her two boys (7 and 5) and the baby they had together.

Everyone was in the apartment that fatal night.

The two old friends discussed religion and the end of the world, among other things.

“The night that this happened we had been watching some music videos and some of it had to do with illuminati,” Vandyk told the court in a long, rambling speech. “Marcel kept saying ‘I am Legion, for we are many’ and ‘I am king’ and I felt menaced … We ended up tussling around on the floor.”

The legion reference is to a passage of New Testament scripture about the exorcism of a demon.

When police arrived at the scene, a blood-soaked Vandyk declared: “I’m an idiot. I did it.”

Vandyk, 36, has a long, dark pony tail and appeared in jeans, a black T-shirt with a striped buttoned shirt over top and leg irons. Several times during the daylong sentencing hearing he tried to speak directly to the judge and was admonished. He did not appear to have loved ones in the courtroom.

Though he has done lots of jail time — he pulled a knife on a police officer once, another time he punched a man in the face then stomped on it, breaking his nose in five places — this will be his first prison sentence. Assistant Crown attorney Jill McKenzie asked for 10 to 12 years. Manek wanted five to seven. Justice Stephen Glithero took into account the agreed statement of facts (which the lawyers didn’t really agree on until the bitter end), case law, a Gladue report on Vandyk’s Indigenous heritage, a psychiatric report and his criminal history.

The sentence handed down was eight and a half years for the manslaughter (he pleaded down from second-degree murder) minus 24 months for time served, plus 12 months for an assault causing bodily harm conviction that relates to beating his cellmate while awaiting his murder trial.

The judge also listened to victim impact statements from Marcel’s family.

Her hands and voice shaking, Stewart spoke of their baby, Andrew, growing up without his father.

“Andrew has some stories, some pictures, a few videos and a box full of ashes,” she said. “I don’t even know if Andrew will have any real memories of him because he was so young.”

Stewart said her children are being raised by relatives because she is unable to manage with her grief.

Marcel’s sister, Tabitha Livingstone, had to leave her job after his death because she couldn’t focus on work.

“Whenever I want a hug I hold a box — a box — with my brother’s remains,” she told the court angrily.

Most of Vandyk’s convoluted courtroom speech was aimed at placing blame on others for his past sins. But as he ran out of steam, he began to weep and finally spoke of killing his friend.

“I’m sorry that it happened,” he said, as his lawyer handed him tissues for his tears. “I just don’t feel that I deserve to be completely demonized as a hopeless lost cause … I never wanted to hurt anybody’s family … And it pains me to think of these kids growing up without their family.”