RedHanded - Episode 332 - Jean-Claude Romand: Doubling Down

Episode Date: January 25, 2024

Prospect medical student turned slacker spree-killer is hardly a normal turn of events. Yet Jean-Claude Romand managed to throw his entire life away by simply doing nothing. No school, no job, and no income, all propped up by a tower of ever increasing lies. A secret life spanning over thirty years, and ending in the deaths of his wife, their two children, both his parents, and their family dog, all to avoid telling the truth. This is what happens when you tell that one little lie, and never stop doubling down.Exclusive bonus content:Wondery - Ad-free & ShortHandPatreon - Ad-free & Bonus Content Follow us on social media:YouTubeTikTokInstagramXVisit our website:WebsiteSources available on redhandedpodcast.comSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can listen to Red Handed early and ad-free. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Get on board. Via Rail. Love the way. They say Hollywood is where dreams are made. A seductive city where many flock to get rich, be adored, and capture America's heart. But when the spotlight turns off, fame, fortune, and lives can disappear in an instant. Follow Hollywood and Crime, The Cotton Club Murder on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. I'm Hannah. I'm Sruti. And welcome to Red Handed, where we're going to talk about lying toads. And I think we have all been in a situation where you get your back into a corner and then you lie and lie and lie and obviously not anymore because I'm far too mature but in my early 20s boy howdy did I yes oh yes we've all been there can you think of the worst lie you've ever told

I think it would be an ongoing lie of lying to myself that everything in this relationship is totally fine this is working this relationship with this man is working and everything is gonna be great and fine and he'll definitely change that's the biggest lie I've ever told for sure what about you i must know the one i still feel awful about uh-huh and still has repercussions to this day completely and utterly my fault i was 20 i think and i went out to the gay bars in vauxhall and i was out for about like almost 24 hours right because they don't stop and I was living in a flat share and they owned it and I was a tenant but they were away and I had loads of people back to the house and one girl was really drunk slash had done some GHB and was like in a really bad way so I put her in one of their beds

and they were very funny about cleanliness who's they you're these friends yeah you know who they are oh it's and then another person went into the other bedroom and sat on the bed to make a phone call and it like moved the blanket anyway so I was so terrified of telling them that I just lied and of course they figured it out of course and I just lied and lied and lied and lied um was everyone gone by the time they came back oh god yeah yeah I just like hoovered the bed sheets and then like got them some chocolate and stuff being like welcome home and they were like do you how stupid do you think we are oh no oh it was horrific it was just awful it was just awful and that is why i'm still terrified of oh my god that is the yeah yeah it was bad it was really bad that's

probably the worst thing i've ever done nice nice so uh that's my... Confession. My exposure therapy for the day. So we have all done it to varying degrees, whether you're lying to spare someone's feelings or like me, a big fat act of selfish self-preservation that will never work, don't bother. And at the time it can feel harmless, but then just like me, you just keep going. So maybe you can relate to this quote from the subject of our story today. When you get caught in that endless effort not to disappoint people, the first lie leads to another, and then it's your whole life. We've all told what we thought was a little white lie, only to find ourselves caught out and having to dig further and further.

Well, whatever untruth you're thinking of that you have committed is nothing compared to the mendacious misadventures of today's subject. And of course, he is French. I'm kidding, I like France now because he kept on going for 18 years until he was faced with a choice whether to face the music and come clean once and for all like Hannah was forced to do or to murder five people in that could have been the solution to all your problems Hannah you could have just killed them both and then no one has to You could have just killed them both. And then no one has to know. And then just put them in their dirty beds. Yeah, right.

Or just kill the girl who's in the bed and then no one could be mad at me because she's dead. So the story we have for you today isn't about Hannah murdering a bunch of people in her flat. It contains, no doubt, the biggest, most extravagant deception that we have ever covered here on Red Handed. It also may well contain the worst thought-out plan we've ever seen. And also, possibly, the easiest murder investigation in history. So how did a simple falsehood over uni exam results spiral into decades of deception and the senseless annihilation of five lives?

This is the unbelievable story of Jean-Claude Romain. At 4am on the 10th of January 1993, Luc l'Admiral received the kind of phone call that nobody wants to get. His best friend's house was on fire, threatening the lives of everyone inside. I often use that as a like comparison. I'm like, yeah, you're my best friend, but who am I calling when my house is on fire? Is it you? I don't know. Anyway, he drove to the house in the early hours, just in time to see his friend of 18 years, the godfather to his children, being wheeled out on a stretcher. He was unconscious, but miraculously alive.

But the fire had taken the rest of the family. The two children, the best friends to Luke's kids, were zipped up in grey body bags and Florence, their mother, was lying still, covered in a coat. At that point, Luke found himself wishing that his friend wouldn't make it, so he wouldn't have to confront the pain of losing his entire family. As Florence was wheeled past him, Luke reached down to stroke her hair to say goodbye, but her hair was wet. And as Luke reached down, he was shocked to find a bloody open wound at the base of Florence's skull. I understand that this is important to

the story, but if I walk past a dead person, I ain't touching them. No, no, no, no, no, no. Don't do that. That's a terrible idea. Don't do it. But Luke did. And then he told the firemen all about the wound that he had seen. And these men told him that the attic in the house had collapsed during the fire. And they guessed that Florence must just have been hit by some sort of falling beam or something. Makes sense. The next day, a relative drove the 50 miles to the children's grandparents' house to tell them the devastating news. But he found them both lying in pools of blood. The grandparents and

their golden retriever had all been shot dead. It was now obvious to police that the fire had been no accident. Someone had directly targeted and wiped out every member of the Romand family. All except for one. Jean-Claude Romand was born on the 11th of February 1954.

Oh, fucking hell. Clever. Le Lach. He grew up in that town that Cerruti's French GCSE is doing all the work for. It's a town of just over a thousand people, so pretty small, on the westernmost edge of France. The town sits at the foot of the Jura Mountains. On the other side of the mountain range is the Swiss border and the city of Genève. I know how to say that in French.

Jean-Claude's family went back in the Jura region, generations of stern, dedicated timber merchants that knew the value of a good hard day's work. His father, Emmy, had even more reason to be stoic. In 1939, when war broke out, Emmy was drafted into the French army to fight for liberty, equality and fraternity. And almost immediately, he was taken prisoner by the Germans and he spent the rest of the war in a POW camp. After the war, Emmy came home and took over his father's timber company. And though he was stubborn and emotionless, he was serious about trees. He married a woman named Anne-Marie, and they soon had their only child, Jean-Claude. They wanted a big family, but Anne-Marie's series of miscarriages and worsening health problems

meant that Jean-Claude stayed an only child. It was well known in the town that Anne-Marie was, quote-unquote, sickly. It wasn't totally clear to anyone what exactly her illness was, but she was delicate and easily worried. And that meant that in the early years of Jean-Claude's life, he became very adept at sparing his mother's feelings. Worry was a physical thing for Anne-Marie, and Jean-Claude knew that if she was worried, she would deteriorate. So he learned to keep things from her and present her a stress-free, unproblematic view of their life. And since he admired his father's emotionless stoicism so much,

there wasn't much back and forth there either. Later, Jean-Claude would admit that the only person he was comfortable telling his problems to was his dog. And that's sad if he's described his dog as a person. The only person I could talk to as my dog. Well, I don't know. I feel like Mabel's got some free will, some agency going on. Oh, she's definitely got that. At his first local school, little Jean-Claude was one of just three students. He's literally got no one.

No. Parents are like, fucking don't talk to me or don't tell me anything bad is happening. Even the dog is scared and now he's got two school friends. Or two kids at school. But soon, when the timber business got a boost, young Jean-Claude was shipped off to a fancy boarding school. The area between the Jura Mountains and the Swiss border is dotted with rich villages, full to the brim with international dignitaries. And guess who went to boarding school there? Osama bin Laden. It's true, look at that.

Wow, I believe it. He was like... And I believe Kim Jong-un. Yeah. I mean, Kim Jong-un, yes, totally believable. But everybody needs to remember that Osama bin Laden came from a very wealthy Saudi family. He had a lot of money. He wasn't like this fucking, you know, man dressed in rags hiding in a cave his whole life. He was just doing that to fucking manipulate all of the people on the ground. And it's making a bit of resurgence now. Have you seen this? Fuck off, my God.

Anyone who is re-TikToking, I don't even know what the tweet, what the fucking word is for TikTok. Anyone who's sharing Letter to America and getting mad for jihad on TikTok, you're deported. You should be deported. It's really not good stuff but this generation grumble grumble grumble do you remember that tv show called grumpy old women where like

um like joe brand and like oh yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah fucking oh what's her name i do remember yeah and they just go on and whinge about stuff. Like, I think we're old enough to do that now. I feel like we should be. But they were whinging about how we, like, wore our trousers too high. I want to whinge about how the TikTok generation thinks that Osama bin Laden is some sort of poster boy for freedom fighting. Kill me. So get this. The Ontario Liberals elected Bonnie Crombie as their new leader. Bonnie who? I just sent you her profile. Check out her place in the Hamptons.

Fancy. She's a big carbon tax supporter, yeah? Oh yeah. Check out her record as mayor. Oh get out of here. She even increased taxes in this economy. Yeah, higher taxes, carbon taxes. She sounds expensive. Bonnie Crombie and the Ontario Liberals. They just don't get it. That'll cost you. A message from the Ontario PC Party.

Harvard is the oldest and richest university in America. But when a social media-fueled fight over Harvard and its new president broke out last fall, that was no protection. Claudian Gay is now gone. We've exposed the DEI regime, and there's much more to come. This is The Harvard Plan, a special series from the Boston Globe and WNYC's On the Media. To listen, subscribe to On the Media wherever you get your podcasts. So those schools in the Swiss Alps are perfect for people who want easy access to high-flying, no-tax-paying jobs that Geneva has, which is why I think FIFA is there, UEFA is there, the WHO is there, Red Cross, they're there.

I once accidentally parked outside either UEFA or FIFA and I didn't know and I got a ticket. They need every penny, honey. And I didn't pay it because I've got no collateral in Switzerland, so come and get me. Please don't. So Jean-Claude's school was full of the scions of these hoity-toity families. And yet again, just a poor timber merchant's son, he really struggled to fit in. As a student, he was well-behaved and eager to please. He was a fast reader and respectful to the point of being slightly too much. His teachers report a strong, cloying, suck-up vibe. Needless to say, he was not especially liked by other kids and became a very weird and solitary boy and this is heart-wrenchingly tragic and very dennis nelson of him and very german cannibal

so a la armin maivus with his dog therapist unfortunately absent, Jean-Claude started to share his secrets with an imaginary friend that he called Claude. So it's just his name? Yeah. Okay. He's not very imaginative for such a solitary child, is he? So yes, unfortunately, his classmates just weren't ready for Jean-Claude's imaginative flights of fancy. So he was naturally bullied to hell. I will say, though, I'm sure it's extremely irritating to have such a sucky up student. But I do think that children who are bullied do tend to do that because they feel like they've got nowhere to turn. Oh, of course. And also he's not getting any sort of like praise at home.

He's not getting any sort of attention at home. His dad's just off silently staring at trees, being stoicic and his mum is on the verge of a mental breakdown half the time. So you know he's trying to look for those parental figures in teachers which is again completely natural. Now Jean-Claude once he was beaten up so badly while he was at school that he was actually sent home because of his injuries. Remember, he's at boarding school, miles away. After this, he was kept out of classes for a series of sinus infections. And when they didn't stop, he picked up his classes remotely. Jean-Claude stayed in his room all day and all night and worked away at his studies. And although he didn't fit in at school, he had picked up his peers' aspirations,

and maybe a dash of their snobbery too. Many of their parents were doctors and lawyers, and looked down on the honest, salt-of-the-earth Romand family. And even though Jean-Claude had zero interest in helping people, and actually found sick people to be quite repulsive, he started to consider medicine as a future career. But he kept this from his parents, as well as the fact that by the end of term, there was nothing physically wrong with him. He just didn't want to go back to school.

And the title he chose for his end-of-year baccalaureate essay was Does Truth Exist? I would be lying if I said I didn't write that same essay at university. So after that, Jean-Claude went to Lyon to study medicine, drawn by the prestigious course as well as the knowledge that a girl from his childhood, Florence, was also going to Lyon. She also happened to be a distant cousin. Jean-Claude had seen her around at family gatherings when he was growing up, which I imagine in rural France happens quite a lot. He said that he had even considered himself engaged to Florence since he was just 14 years old.

So at Lyon, Jean-Claude got in with Florence and her mates, including other medical students, like Luc l'Admiral. Luc was from a long line of doctors, but unlike many of their classmates, he didn't look down on Jean-Claude's humble beginnings. Jean-Claude even eventually managed to convince Florence to go out with him. Their gang would regularly study together and go out on the town and generally live a fun, slightly ramshackle French student life. Jean-Claude did well in his first year exams, and his second year was on track for success.

Until he dropped the L-bomb on Florence. Now Florence had never been particularly crazy about Jean-Claude. She had been pretty clear to her friends that she didn't find him very attractive. And maybe to let him down gently, she now told him that she had to concentrate on her studies and swiftly dumped Jean-Claude. This hit the JC pretty hard. He retreated once more, staying in his bedroom all day. And when the day of his second year exam came, he just stayed in bed, nursing that broken heart. Now this in itself wasn't the end of the

world. He only needed a few points to pass the year, and he could retake the exam when term started in September. For most of the summer, Jean-Claude stayed back in his old sulking ground, his bedroom, back at his parents' house in Clairvaux. He moped hard all summer long about Florence, about how she wouldn't see him, and how her and all his friends were probably living it up without him. Where Jean-Claude got back to Lyon, he and the gang,

minus Florence, went out to a club one night. Jean-Claude said that he was going out to get some cigarettes like any good medical student would. He didn't reappear for hours, but because it's Jean-Claude, nobody really noticed. When he finally did show up again, his shirt was torn and stained with blood. He told them that strangers had just grabbed him from the street, taken his keys and thrown him into the boot of his own car. Then they drove it around, shaking and bruising him in the back. Before stopping, taking him out and then beating the shit out of him.

And just as quickly as they arrived, these mystery assailants then left. He drove the 30 miles back to the club. Jean-Claude couldn't say what the attackers had wanted or why they'd picked him out. He also never got round to filing a police report. And I'm sure you can tell, much later on, Jean-Claude admitted that he had made this entire story up.

Why? He couldn't say. But whether intentionally or not, Jean-Claude admitted that he had made this entire story up. Why? He couldn't say. But whether intentionally or not, Jean-Claude had tested the water. And he had discovered just how easy it could be to lie to your friends. After all, what reason would they have not to believe you? It was shortly after that that Jean-Claude told the one small lie that would go on to define the next two decades of his life. Because when the day of his exam retake came around, Jean-Claude slept in again.

And when his parents phoned to ask how it had gone, he didn't know how to tell them that he'd missed the retake. So instead he said, It went well. Which is very much the original lie in this entire story. And everything spirals from here. Jean-Claude announced his success to the rest of his friends as well. But he retreated from the group again,

locking himself back up in his room, shutting the curtains, and only eating food out of cans. After a while, just before the Christmas holidays, Jean-Claude's best mate, Luc, came by to check in on him. Assuming that Jean-Claude was just still broken up from the breakup, Luc took him for a drive and a heart-to-heart. And at some point during this

don't-worry-there's-plenty-of-fish-in-the-sea-bro chat, Jean-Claude told Luc that he had cancer. He didn't, obviously, but he did need an explanation for retreating from his uni work and social life. So he picked lymphoma. It's not always fatal and it has no outward symptoms, but it is still deserving of huge amounts of sympathy and patience. The word spread and saying he was now in remission, Jean-Claude rejoined the fray and even got back together with Florence. The thing is, for him, it's just like he lies

and then everything works out in that immediate space of time. So he's just like, this is great. Why doesn't everybody do this? Things were looking like they were getting back on track. Except Jean-Claude wasn't a student. At first, he had tried using a fake doctor's note to use the cancer as an excuse. But I imagine a fake doctor's note at medical school isn't going to get you particularly far. Yeah, and also, like, if he hasn't done the retake exam, he's not a student anymore a student anymore so it's like he's saying oh I've got this fake note to show all of his friends why

he's never in class but like how long are you going to be able to do that? But of course he wasn't able to provide any real certificates and he got to a dead end but luckily for Jean-Claude this was the 70s and the super basic computer system at Lyon was not hard to hoodwink. Jean-Claude, this was the 70s, and the super basic computer system at Lyon was not hard to hoodwink. Jean-Claude couldn't sign up for his third year without passing his second year exam, but there was nothing stopping him from signing up for his second year again. So he did. And then again, the following year. And the one after that as well. Jean-Claude Romand stayed a second year student at the University of Lyon for 12 years. Oh my god. So he is a student. So he is there. He is there with a fucking certificate.

Wow. That is something. So this is basically how the whole thing played out. At the start of each year, from 1975 to 1986, Jean-Claude Romand would go and get a new student ID from the uni every single year. To keep up appearances, he attended all of the lectures that his peers did. He even bought the books, did all the assigned reading, took notes, studied for exams, and even had study sessions with Florence and other friends. He even showed up before and after each exam, to be there for the pre-test nerves and the debrief afterwards. It was just as much work as, I don't know, actually becoming a fucking doctor,

just without the actual qualification. But over the years, Jean-Claude just sank deeper and deeper into the lie. What helped was that, of course, he and Florence weren't on the same course anymore. Why? Well, she hadn't passed her second year exam all those years ago, the same one that Jean-Claude had missed. So she had switched to pharmacology. So it's easier for him to keep lying because they're like she's

not progressed to third year so she's not like why aren't you in my class he can just be like i am in third year don't look at my id that says i'm in second year this is so fucking complicated you definitely could have pulled that off at my uni though the admin was so fucking terrible oh wow my dissertation supervisor just vanished still don't know what happened to him. Three weeks out from the due date, gone. Dr. Steve, where were you? It's just free spirits, though. Free spirits.

But also you could smoke weed inside and people had orgies in the library. So it was a different time. Years later, Lyon University got a new head and Jean-Claude's hopes of being lost in that classic French bureaucracy were dashed. He was invited to a meeting with the new dean of the university, and Jean-Claude, sensing the jig might be up, and with all of his friends having graduated by this point, he finally left Lyon. It's just so confusing because, okay, fine, Florence moves into pharmacology, but the rest of his friends carry on with the medical degree. Like, he's just doing study sessions with them and turning up pre and post exams, even though he's not setting them because

it's the wrong year. Aren't they like, why aren't you in class? But then I guess he just says, oh, I'm just studying from home because I'm sick. I don't know. I don't know either. How he manages to do this is baffling. But everybody, I guess, just thinks he's already a weird guy and probably just doesn't ask that many questions. Or maybe they're just not that arsed. They're like, okay, Jean-Claude, like, fine. Yeah, that's also very fair. They've got fucking lives to live. They're literal doctors. Yeah, they've got enough to do. So anyway, Jean-Claude announced that he was actually going to go to Paris to pass his board exams. Later, he told everyone that he had got a job

as a research assistant at the French National Health Institute, which is called Inserm in Paris. And soon, at Jean-Claude's fake job, he got a big fat fake promotion. And that meant that he was assigned to work as a research scientist at the World Health Organization in Geneva. Jean-Claude and Florence got married and they moved to a French town right on the Swiss border. Quite a lot of people do that, they live in France and commute into Geneva because it's cheaper. The location was perfect.

It was near where Jean-Claude had grown up and his BFF, Luc L'Admiral, had just taken over his father's practice nearby, and both his and Florence's parents were just down the road. Almost like he had planned it. So the romance went on to have two children. Caroline was born in 1985, and Anthony in 1987. And Jean-Claude absolutely smashed his new fake job at the World Health Organization. He talked at length about the new medications that he was inventing

and the clinical trials they were going through. He said he got on well with his new bosses and even brought gifts from them home to the children. He'd report back on conversations with foreign dignitaries and fancy new friends, including Bernard Kochner, the founder of Doctors Without Borders. But, unfortunately, the Who had a strict privacy policy. Colleagues were forbidden from coming to his house,

and family couldn't visit the office either. They couldn't even have his work phone number. Instead, to contact Jean-Claude at work, they'd have to ring his answering service, leave a message, and wait until he called them back. No one ever asked why a health organisation had a stricter office policy than MI5. But like this, Jean-Claude's work life and home life

stayed separate for years. So by now, you probably have two very pertinent questions. Where is all this money coming from? And what the fuck was he doing all day? They're good questions. I'm afraid I don't have particularly satisfactory answers. As for what he was up to, basically nothing. Every morning, Jean-Claude Romand would

take his kids to their expensive school and then set off for Geneva. And he'd go over the border to drive into Switzerland to the WHO. He would park in the WHO car park and get himself a visitor's pass and wander around the public areas. He does this for years and no one clocks on. He'd do things like sit in the huge public library or in conference rooms. Or he'd walk around the publications office looking for printed material, anything letter-headed, with the WHO logo that he could swipe for evidence. This is just further proof that I've always suspected that the WHO has absolutely no idea what the fuck he's doing. I'd only be a little bit more surprised if they'd actually given him a job

with him pretending to be a fake doctor. He'd pick up all these little bits of paper, stuff them in his car, or leave them lying around his house. He used any WHO services that were available to the public, like its travel agency, its bank, and its post office. He even sent photos of the outside of the building with a big red X on

them to show where his office was. Oh my god. So top secret of you sir. Yes, yes. So after years of going to the WHO, apparently finally deciding that the lie was sufficiently established, Sean Claude started spending his days in other ways. He'd sit in various cafes, reading magazines and newspapers, just seeing out the clock until he could return home again. That sounds like hell. And sometimes he'd even just park up on the side of some road and stay in his car all day, either reading or just sleeping.

Sometimes Jean-Claude would even drive into the Jura Mountains for a solo hike. Once in a while, he'd tell his family he was going on a business trip, which for Jean-Claude Romain meant driving to Geneva Airport, parking in the airport car park and checking into an airport hotel. He'd buy travel guides in advance for Florence to see as she packed his suitcase. And once in the hotel, he'd look up the time and weather in his chosen destination. He'd phone home at lunchtime and tell his family that he was just off to bed and that it was raining in Tokyo. He'd buy gifts from Geneva Airport, as relevant to his pretend country as possible.

And then he'd just lie all day in his hotel room, watching TV. What is truly amazing about Jean-Claude's story is that there isn't a double life. This is a painstakingly constructed fantasy. It wasn't covering for any secret second family or any high-level secretive job or responsibility. There's absolutely nothing at the centre of it. Jean-Claude would just sit around all day for years and years and years. And as for a lifestyle so entirely vapid, directionless and boring, it was fucking expensive to maintain. His kids went to private school and he also stayed in endless airport

hotels and they're not cheap on the annual salary of zero francs. What's more, they lived in an expensive area, their friends were rich, cultured, they had expensive tastes. Jean-Claude positioned himself as a leading figure in the world of research, one who went to international conferences and dined with government ministers. So he had to have the lifestyle to match, which meant that Jean-Claude needed money. While at uni in Lyon, Jean-Claude's parents had bought him a flat and a car. And initially, Jean-Claude kept his duplicitous life propped up, using the 300,000 francs that he'd got from selling that apartment. Plus, he'd still make regular small withdrawals from his parents' bank account. And they let him, even though he was definitely not a student anymore. Maybe they even did this

because he didn't need it. They never suspected any irresponsibility. He was a big shot now. So what were a few withdrawals here and there? They could afford it after all. But after a while, the apartment money was dwindling, and he needed more. And like they say, in for a centime, in for a franc. So Jean-Claude started grifting. His fake position as an international civil servant didn't just give him a massive fake salary,

it gave him unique financial access. He started telling his family and his friends about high-interest accounts he could invest in, secure Swiss bank investments that paid out 18% a year. And the best part was, he was allowed to share that access with his family. His parents were the first to leap at this dynamite opportunity. Then his uncle. They forked over large sums of money for Jean-Claude to invest and expected no written confirmation or receipts because he was family. It is kind of the perfect crime. Except Jean-Claude didn't actually have any way to increase their money and lots of ways to lose it. He didn't have an exit strategy. But since they were his family, they weren't exactly going

to go anywhere. So sooner or later, parents or not, they were going to expect money back. So once again, Jean-Claude was forced to up the ante. His wife Florence's retired father, Pierre, also decided to invest to the tune of 378,000 francs. It was the biggest sum yet, the equivalent of more than $150,000 in today's money. But a few months after the investment, Pierre wanted to buy himself a Mercedes, so he asked for some of the cash back. Then, a week later, while Pierre was alone in the house with Jean-Claude, he had a rather nasty fall. Jean-Claude, the only witness, broke the news to Florence and her family. Pierre had suffered a stroke, fallen down the attic stairs, and died. But the doctors found

no trace of a stroke, and the investigation basically led nowhere. So at this point, Florence's father was dead, and Jean-Claude had just secured a massive injection of cash. He was hip-hop's biggest mogul, the man who redefined fame, fortune, and the music industry. The first male rapper to be honored on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Sean Diddy Combs. Diddy built an empire and lived a life most people only dream about. Everybody know ain't no party like a Diddy party, so. Yeah, that's what's up. But just as quickly as his empire rose, it came crashing down. Today I'm announcing the unsealing of a three-count indictment,

charging Sean Combs with racketeering conspiracy, sex trafficking, interstate transportation for prostitution. I was f***ed up. I hit rock bottom, but I made no excuses. I'm disgusted. I'm so sorry. Until you're wearing an orange jumpsuit, it's not real. Now it's real. From his meteoric rise to his shocking fall from grace, from law and crime, this is The Rise and Fall of Diddy. Listen to The Rise and Fall of Diddy exclusively with Wondery+. I'm Jake Warren, and in our first season of Finding, I set out on a very personal quest to find the woman who saved my mom's life.

You can listen to Finding Natasha right now exclusively on Wondery+. In season two I found myself caught up in a new journey to help someone I've never even met but a couple of years ago I came across a social media post by a person named Loti. It read in part, three years ago today that I attempted to jump off this bridge but this wasn't my time to go. A gentleman named Andy saved saved my life i still haven't found him this is a story that i came across purely by chance but it instantly moved me and it's taken me to a place where i've had to consider some deeper issues around mental health

this is season two of finding and this time if all goes to plan we'll be finding Andy. You can listen to Finding Andy and Finding Natasha exclusively and ad-free on Wondery+. Join Wondery in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. So then, Jean-Claude turned his attention to Florence's uncle, who happened to be dying of cancer. Jean-Claude mentioned to this uncle's wife that he was working on a miracle drug at the WHO. He had invented it, naturally, but it was still in trials and it likely wouldn't be available to the public until it was too late. Jean-Claude claimed that this pill had been shown

to either halt the spread of cancer or cure it completely. And you could have it all for the low, low price of 15,000 francs per pill. The first dose was two pills, and then five months later, the patient would need another dose. And of course, Florence's uncle paid the money. And then he died the next year. With Florence's father gone, her mother decided to downsize. And with the sizable amount of cash that freed up,

she decided to invest even more in the imaginary Swiss investment opportunity run by her son-in-law. So the romance got a further 1.3 million francs. That's half a million dollars today. Jean-Claude had by this point made the equivalent of more than a million dollars in total off his extended family. And although he and Florence shared a joint account, she never looked at the statements. That was Jean-Claude's job. So he moved the family to a big farmhouse at the foot of the Jura Mountains. He even bought a Range Rover.

And then he started to have an affair. It's going to happen, isn't it? I feel like, how long can you just sleep in your car? Yeah. He needs somewhere to go. And it's exactly what you said. He's constructing this incredibly elaborate lie with zero payoff. He's literally just doing all of this in order to make enough money to sustain the lie that he's already told. And now he's like, all right, well, might as well find something else to do with my day. And that something else to do

was Corinne Hurtung, happened to be an old family friend who'd recently divorced another friend of theirs called Pierre and moved to Paris. Jean-Claude had always taken a shine to her. And weeks after her divorce was final, he sent her some flowers and asked her out this is the thing with jean-claude right he flies so close to the sun in that all of his cons and his grifts and his affairs all happen within like a very close circle of friends and family i'm like what are you doing go find some randoms that you can grift i'm not trying to give people advice on how to be a horrible person, but he really makes it harder for himself. And if she's a family friend,

assume she probably knows he's married. That's what I mean. Anyway, soon enough, Jean-Claude was flying up to Paris every single week. He told Corinne, just as he told his wife, that he just had a new assignment with the Research Institute of Paris. Jean-Claude ended up falling pretty hard for Corinne, and they talked for hours over dinner every Friday night.

Jean-Claude even considered coming clean to her. Maybe this could be his fresh start. Maybe she would understand. They started to buy each other gifts, and they went on short trips together. Finally, there was something else on the other side of Jean-Claude's life. When he said he was working, he wasn't just sitting in his car. He was having a sexy tryst in Paris. I don't believe for a second that he was going to tell Corinne. No. It's bollocks.

I think he's romanticising that to be like, oh, maybe she did really love me. Maybe she would have understood all of the lies I had to tell to keep everybody in my life happy. Like, I think the reason that Jean-Claude has the affair is A, obviously to have something better to do with his time than just sleeping in his fucking car. But I also think it was the dulling effect, right? Everybody in his life has already been like, oh, wow, you're so amazing. You work at the Who and now you work here and blah, blah, blah, blah.

It's going to hit a point of where that admiration from the people in his life is not gonna mean anything anymore yeah so it's like finding another person a fresh start to be like oh look how amazing i am it's to tell all his bullshit stories to all of the lies he's told already to everybody in his life who's already heard it a million times to somebody new and to soak in their admiration and I think that's the role that Corinne plays for him. So anyway meanwhile while he's off having this sexy tryst this being France there was more scandal back home. At the kids school the headmaster was found to be having an affair with a teacher. The school board voted to remove him as head, but there was one person who was very vocal about defending him. Jean-Claude Romand. Hearing about this, the president of the school board wanted to get the other view, so he decided to phone Jean-Claude at work. He pulled up the WHO directory, but couldn't find the name Romand anywhere. He even checked

the International Pension Fund database, but found no trace. And this head of the school board later mentioned all this to none other than Florence. And she mentioned it to her husband.

Florence luckily just laughed it off. Florence really is just like, nah, I don't want to know. She's got a pretty good life. Yeah, she's like, it's fine. It's working out fine for me. Everybody shut the fuck up. Hand me the keys to that Range Rover, baby. So yeah, Florence laughs it off. But this was the first sign to Jean-Claude that the truth was closing in. And then he got dumped by Corinne. On a tempestuous trip to Rome, she broke things off because Jean-Claude was, quote, too sad.

Oh, no. Tritrist. Oh, no. Whoops. Not whoops, actually. Get it gone, girl. Like, on a trip to Rome? Yeah.

The happiest place on earth. I just like sitting there eating a bowl of spaghetti, looking at the Colosseum. I haven't been to Rome. I assume that's what people in Rome do. I'm going to break it off with you. You're just too sad. But you want to split this and then let's go home. Bringing up with people on holiday is weird.

Yes, I agree with you. But then, I don't know know this is just me being a judgmental bitch but like i always think when couples break up just after a holiday and you look at the pictures i'm like he knew what he was gonna do he was waiting oh yeah what a bastard yeah like do you know what i mean oh yeah do it before do it after that's true don't do it on because i then i'd be like you could have at least let me just have a good holiday. Yeah. You prick.

Now I'm really too sad. Yes, and Jean-Claude indeed was sad. He was so sad, he spiralled. And on one family holiday, he took an early morning drive out to the woods. His father had taken him there once and told him to be careful of a deep chasm. He had told Jean-Claude that the fall would kill him. Jean-Claude went up to the edge of this very same gorge and jumped. But he was caught by branches and thorns that grew across the opening.

Like you see in a Disney film, they stopped him from falling to his death and scratched his face and clothes instead. So he managed to clamber out of the briar. Would you say that's a briar? Is that a thing? The look of expectation on your face when you said that to me. I'm like, I have no idea. I've heard the word briar, understand the context.

But is this a briar? I don't know. I don't know. Anyway, he gets himself out of the pokey plant and he drove himself to Lyon, phoned Florence and told her that he had been in a terrible car accident, after which he had been helicoptered out to a hospital in Lausanne. Then Jean-Claude drove home in his own unscratched car and got out with a face of scratches instead of impact wounds

and he told Florence why the accident had happened. He told her that he wasn't thinking properly, because, he said, his cancer was back. So they agreed not to tell the kids, but the Romains did tell their friends. They told each of them to keep it to themselves, so it didn't get out. Jean-Claude stopped going to work, and started going to Paris more often for expensive chemo from a world-class doctor. And at this point, Jean-Claude gave his ex-mistress Corinne a ring and she was happy to hear from him. They started meeting up again and soon she asked for some advice. She had an apartment to sell.

She was wondering what to do with the money. Jean-Claude had the perfect suggestion. So he took her 9,000 francs for, you guessed it, another fake Swiss investment. But the next time he saw Corinne, she did what none of his marks had done before. She asked Jean-Claude for proof. Corinne said that if he were to have some kind of accident, then she'd have absolutely no idea how to track down her investment. She at least needed some kind of receipt to see where her money was going. And when Jean-Claude couldn't, she demanded her money back.

So by this point, Jean-Claude Romand was well and truly on the ropes. At his next dinner liaison with Corinne, she demanded her money back again, so he just couldn't put her off any longer. So he told her that she would have her money back by the 10th of January. The night before that, he just so happened to be having dinner with the founder of Doctors Without Borders. He knew he wanted Corinne to join him. Jean-Claude knew that neither the repayment or the dinner was going to happen, but it didn't matter, because Jean-Claude knew that by the 10th of January, either him or Corinne would be dead. Back in Pervissant, Florence relayed another strange conversation to her husband, Jean-Claude. A friend of theirs, whose husband worked for the WHO, had asked Florence if her and her children were going to the office Christmas party.

And Florence wanted to know why they hadn't been invited. And then, Jean-Claude's mother rang him in tears, wondering why her accounts were all overdrawn. Corinne wanted her money, his family was getting wise, and the coffers were dry. 18 years after he had first lied about that second year exam in Lyon, Jean-Claude Romand knew that his time was up. After a trip away to ring in the new year, the Romand spent the first few days of 1993 skiing together up in Strasbourg. Afterwards, Jean-Claude went alone to Lyon and did some shopping. At various shops, he bought a stun wand, two pepper spray canisters, bottles of barbiturates, ammunition, a silencer, and a couple of petrol canisters. He filled the cans with fuel and drove to his parents' house.

He said hello, got his rifle from their house, stashed it in his car and then drove back to his house. On Saturday the 9th of January 1993, Jean-Claude entered the living room to hear his wife Florence on the phone with her mother. The children had already gone to bed. Jean-Claude sat down next to Florence on the sofa and started talking. He remembers holding her in his arms and comforting her. And then the next thing he remembered, he was holding a bloody rolling pin in his hand and Florence's skull had been caved in. Then he went to the bathroom,

washed the rolling pin and put it away. The kids woke up early and he told them that their mother was still asleep. He made them Cocoa Pops and sat down with them to watch cartoons for over an hour. As soon as he had killed Florence, Jean-Claude knew that he would have to kill his children too. So he brought them water that he'd laced with barbiturates and asked them to drink it. But it smelled funny so they wouldn't. So Jean-Claude told seven-year-old Caroline that she felt quite warm and might be ill.

He took her upstairs and asked her to lie face down. And then he shot her in the back. Jean-Claude then called the younger child, Anthony, upstairs and shot him too. He went to the corner shop and brought a newspaper. Then he went to check the mailbox. Then he got changed, put the rifle back in his car, and drove to his parents' house. There he sat down for lunch with his mum and dad in his childhood home.

Afterwards, Jean-Claude called his father into his old bedroom to look at a broken air vent. When his father bent down to take a closer look, Jean-Claude shot him from behind and covered his body with a bedspread. He then went downstairs to his mother, who, thanks to the silencer, hadn't heard anything. And he simply shot her too.

And then, just for good measure, he shot his parents' golden retriever. And he comforted himself with the thought that his daughter Caroline, who he had shot that morning, loved that dog, so at least they'd be together in heaven. After cleaning the rifle and returning it to his father's gun rack, Jean-Claude called Corinne.

It was still the 9th of January, and they had dinner plans with Bernard Kraushner. Jean-Claude drove straight to Paris, just in time to go to a Saturday evening mass with Corinne and her parents. And then he and Corinne set off for their imaginary dinner party. Halfway there, out in the countryside, Jean-Claude pulled over and said he needed to grab something out of the boot. He said he couldn't find it, but that he had brought her a necklace and wanted to put it on her. And when Corinne approached him,

Jean-Claude sprayed her in the face with pepper spray. Then he rammed her in the stomach with the stun wand, giving her a series of electric shocks. Corinne fought back and pleaded with him not to kill her. She looked into his eyes and told him to remember her daughters. Suddenly, Jean-Claude stopped and started pleading with corinne to calm down later he would say that she had started attacking him and he was just offending himself jean-claude kept insisting that corinne had provoked him until eventually he said it may

have just been the cancer it must have brought on some sort of temporary madness so he drove corinne home and begged her not to tell anyone. She agreed, probably because she was absolutely fucking terrified of him. And she said that she wouldn't tell anyone as long as she got her money back and he got some therapy.

So Jean-Claude left. But five minutes later, he phoned her from a payphone to insist again how random and unpremeditated the attack had been. He even said, quote, if I'd wanted to kill you, I'd have done it in your apartment and I'd have killed your girls too. How very comforting. Corinne never remembers actually seeing a necklace, but she does remember

at one point, through the tears in her eyes, seeing a plastic cord on the floor. And she still thinks she has no idea how she narrowly managed to escape strangulation. Jean-Claude returned to his silent home early on the Sunday morning. He spent three hours videotaping some random TV over some VHS tapes. It's since been revealed that he was probably erasing a series of sex tapes that he had made with Florence. And then he called Corinne, repeatedly, for hours. Eventually, she picked up the phone, and he started to apologise over and over. And once again, Corinne said that he needed to see a therapist. Jean-Claude hung up the phone and doused his house in petrol. Then he changed

into his pyjamas and set fire to the children's room, and then went to his own bedroom and stuffed clothes at the foot of the door so the smoke would keep out. When the fire department arrived, he waved for them out of his bedroom window, and before they could reach him, he fell unconscious. Which leads us back to where we started, with Luke Gladmiral at his friend's flaming house and Jean-Claude's uncle finding the bodies of Emmy and Anne-Marie Romand and their golden retriever, all shot dead. News of the Romand's death spread like wildfire and the investigation quickly ramped up to match it. After a prosecutor assigned to the case looked through Jean-Claude's bank accounts,

he suggested a motive. The imposter's fear of being unmasked and the abrupt cessation of an as-yet-ill-defined illicit enterprise. In the media, this was interpreted in a string of wild theories. Arms trafficking, corporate fraud, and drugs rings involving the Russian mafia. The classics. Yes. The classic Swiss bank problems. But money aside, the police were certain of one thing. This was a deliberate murder. And any suggestion that this was just down to some intruders who accidentally killed the family, then burned the entire house down to destroy evidence,

fell down when investigators found out about Jean-Claude's parents. Two murder scenes hitting the same family 50 miles apart. It all told police that someone had had it in for the romance. So when they asked Luke Lamereau if the romance had had any enemies, he was dumbfounded and said what everybody says. Everyone loved the romance. But in reality, as soon as investigators started to look into Jean-Claude, the whole house of cards instantly collapsed.

The investigation was over before it really began. All they had to do was call the WHO and talk to Romain's colleagues, who obviously didn't exist because he had never worked there. Officers also checked the National Registry of Physicians. They called hospitals in Paris where he said he had completed his training. They checked the National Registry of Physicians. They called hospitals in Paris where he said he had completed his training. They checked the records at Lyon University. And there was no trace, at any of them, of a Jean-Claude Romand. So it all fell apart in a few phone calls. The Romand's friends took their time to accept the truth.

For months, Luc Ladmer was still convinced that he had been caught up in something bigger, that his friend Jean-Claude had fallen into some sort of corporate espionage or a leak of industrial secrets. Maybe Jean-Claude had had his identity purposefully erased, or some dark entity had framed him as a warning. Luc decided he would believe anything before accepting that his kind, generous and humble friend of 20 years had made every word of his life up. When investigators searched Jean-Claude's car, which he'd parked at a shop nearby, they found a note. And this is what it read. An ordinary accident, an injustice can bring on madness forgive me corinne forgive me my friends

forgive me good people of saint vincent school board who want to punch my face in why he brings a school board into this is anyone's guess it's an odd choice i think the only reason i can think is because he is like because he's pissed that they're the ones that sort of opened the cabinet. Oh, that's a good point. Right. It's the school board guy who wants to talk to Jean-Claude that calls the fucking WHO. Something is why Florence hasn't done in decades. So maybe it's just his little shaky fist moment at them. So then the police brought Jean-Claude in for an interview.

And for a lifelong mythomaniac, his lies under interrogation were dreadful. He told investigators that a man dressed in black had burst in and shot his children and then set the house on fire. But they also stuffed clothes under my door so I was fine. And when the police confronted him with the fact that he clearly didn't work for the WHO, Jean-Claude said that he worked at a different company now. So the police phoned that company, who had never heard of him. Very Casey Anthony. I was just going to say. And eventually, when he knows that he's rumbled, he moves on to a new story. And after several hours of this sort of infuriating back and forth, Jean-Claude eventually gave a full confession. So speaking of mythomania, what exactly is going on here?

As we said at the top, everyone's been caught up in a lie that's got away from us, but this is really something else. So of course, before his trial, Jean-Claude Raman was seen by a psychiatrist who diagnosed him with narcissistic personality disorder. And we've covered MPD before. What essentially sets it apart are feelings of grand importance and a desperate need for admiration, which obviously makes sense. He wanted to be seen not just as a doctor, but as a high-flying, internationally important research scientist. He's entirely unable to accept not getting what he wants, especially when it gets dumped,

and he fakes cancer twice to get back with women. You might also be thinking of the terms pathological liar and compulsive liar. So what do we actually mean by these? Well, normal lying is generally defined as telling fewer than five lies in a day. That's normal lying. Fucking hell. And so yeah, if like me you're thinking that seems like a lot, just count the lies you tell tomorrow,

including when your friend bakes you a terrible cake and asks you how it is. Or when someone stops you in the street to talk about a new charity and you tell them that you have to run because you've got an appointment. Most people do tend to lie a few times a day. Prolific lying, which is taking us up to the next stage, is more like six to nine lies a day of various degrees of seriousness. But it's still not considered pathological lying. Pathological just means that it's part of an existing mental or physical disease. So pathological lying is not a mental disorder in and of itself. It's a behavioral disturbance within personality disorders or a trait or behavior that's caused by something like brain damage.

It was previously called pseudologica fantastica or mythomania. Pathological lying is marked by constant deliberate deception without a clear motive or awareness. I think that's the key thing. You're not doing it with some sort of clear goal in mind that you're trying to achieve. And it's most likely linked to an existing personality disorder, something like, for for example NPD. It's

also a feature of the newly fucking rebranded factitious disorder which I absolutely despise the name of and I'm going to call it Munchausen syndrome which we'll be covering in glorious detail very soon. The brains of pathological liars often have more developed linguistic fluency and thought processing capabilities making them uniquely good at lying as well. Often it's developed in early childhood as a coping mechanism and continues with little to no regard for the emotional consequences. The lying is often goal-orientated, but it's so constant and can be so unnecessary that some pathological liars are almost impossible to catch in the act.

And they often live in a completely false sense of reality. Some psychologists define compulsive lying separately. It also has origins in early childhood, but it's not linked to any existing disorder. Rather, it's developed as a habit, mostly to avoid confrontation or avoid an embarrassing or stressful situation. And compulsive liars are often much easier to catch because their stories don't add up. And they show physical cues like sweating or avoiding eye contact. They're just not as good at it. And they do feel embarrassed when they get caught. And we'd say that there is definitely a pathological reason and tenacity behind Jean-Claude Romand's mendacious life. After all, it took a huge amount of work and effort just to maintain a life of sitting alone in his car or in a hotel room.

But he did it for 18 years. That's the thing, I'm just like, why? Like, that's the pathology of it, I think. Yeah. So the trial of Jean-Claude Romain began on the 25th of June 1996. Jean-Claude Romain stayed mostly quiet and stoic throughout. Until he didn't. In an effort to humanise him, his lawyer asked him about his childhood dog.

Why are you letting this man go on the stand? Oh my god. But he does, that's what he does. Yes, I guess he's trying to be like, look how broken. Look, he's too sad. He's too sad. You can't convict him. He's got a sad little dog. But the problem is that this approach had a slightly different effect than the lawyer had intended. Jean-Claude first started swaying. Then he started to shake. Then he collapsed on the ground, groaning and shivering violently. Jean-Claude said that the very thought of that dog reminded him of the worries of his childhood,

which he couldn't share with anyone. He then had the same reaction when recounting the murders of his children. But, uh, no dice. I think obviously what he's trying to do here is, it's very, like, borderline Munchausen. He's not, like what he's trying to do here is it's very like borderline munchausen he's not like he's just pretending every time he's confronted with a difficult question or something like this he's just like i've got cancer but he can't say that on the stand so he's like i'm just gonna fall to the ground yeah and pretend to have some sort of anxiety induced seizure

but it doesn't work because jean-claude Romand was found guilty and sentenced to life with no possibility of parole for 22 years. He was sent to Saint-Mil prison, way out in the middle of nowhere France. For the first 16 years of his sentence, Jean-Claude worked diligently at his prison job, restoring old audio archives. He studied literature, Japanese and philosophy and even got qualifications in IT. He also found God in a big way. Here we fucking go. The jail yard conversion, my friend.

And while he was inside, a best-selling book was also written about Jean-Claude Romand's story. It was called The Adversary. And it was written by esteemed French journalist and writer Emmanuel Carrère, who spoke with Jean-Claude Romand for years, and then a drama based on his life went on to be nominated for the Palme d'Or at Cannes. It was actually beaten by the pianist

by Roman Polanski. I hate that that's a Roman Polanski film, man. It's so good. Anyway, in February 2019, after 26 years of super studious prison time, Jean-Claude Remand was up for parole. It was denied. Magistrates cited his narcissistic and pathological disorders and they said that they saw no signs that he had improved.

But then the decision was appealed and then it was reversed. And then he was released. Aged 65 in July 2019 and sent to a monastery. Can they do that? You can go, but you have to be sent to a monastery. I feel like France projects itself as such a secular nation. And I'm like, oh, yes, you can come out of prison, but get thee to a nunnery. Like, I just... Maybe that's the ongoing punishment. nation and i'm like oh yes you can come out of prison but get thee to a nunnery like i just

maybe that's that's the the ongoing punishment that's wild that they can do that yeah so today jean-claude lives in a benedictine abbey and they're the ones with the uh the heads and he has an ankle tag but he is free to leave his monastery during the day but he can't return to any scenes of his crimes, or he can't contact anyone that was involved either, which would be difficult, seeing as they're all dead apart from Corinne. Anyway, a priest has said the following about his new brother Jean-Claude. We want to give him the opportunity to place himself before God,

his last judge, on the gates of eternity. So we're going to keep him here until he drops dead. Yeah. And then God can deal with him yes exactly nice wow that's fucking i'm exhausted yeah just from reading about this man's life how he managed to keep up all of those lies for 18 years is astonishing. And the weird thing is, right, when he is in prison or when he's been bullied so badly, he comes back to his parents' house and he's studying. He works really hard. Like he sits in his room, he studies, he works hard. He's clearly not stupid, but it's like all of that ability is completely twisted and perverted in his mind to a point that he can do nothing but lie and then fixate on maintaining that lie he is just a typical poster child for somebody who

has so much potential but is so antisocial oh yeah is so the opposite of a productive member of society but imagine what he could do if he was just not fixated with maintaining his lies that's true it's pathological that's that's the only thing you can say right but yeah there you go the very famous story and we didn't make fun of the french too much today i'm reformed goodbye They say Hollywood is where dreams are made. A seductive city where many flock to get rich, be adored, and capture America's heart. But when the spotlight turns off, fame, fortune, and lives can disappear in an instant. When TV producer Roy Radin was found dead in a canyon near L.A. in 1983,

there were many questions surrounding his death. The last person seen with him was Lainey Jacobs, a seductive cocaine dealer who desperately wanted to be part of the Hollywood elite. Together, they were trying to break into the movie industry. But things took a dark turn when a million dollars worth of cocaine and cash went missing. From Wondery comes a new season of the hit show Hollywood and Crime, The Cotton Club Murder. Follow Hollywood and Crime, The Cotton Club Murder on the Wondery app

or wherever you get your podcasts. You can binge all episodes of The Cotton Club Murder early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus. You don't believe in ghosts? I get it. Lots of people don't. I didn't either, until I came face to face with them. Ever since that moment, hauntings, spirits, and the unexplained have consumed my entire life. I'm Nadine Bailey. I've been a ghost tour guide for the past 20 years. I've taken people along with me into the shadows, uncovering the macabre tales that linger in the darkness and inside some of the most haunted houses, hospitals, prisons, and more. Join me every week on my podcast, Haunted Canada,

as we journey through terrifying and bone-chilling stories of the unexplained. Search for Haunted Canada on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music, or wherever you find your favorite podcasts.