Nicole thought it sounded like fun and agreed to help. She took out some paper and a pen from her purse and asked, “What does the note say?”
“Well,” Robert began, “it should say ‘It’s a holdup!’ ”
Nicole stopped writing and looked at him with questions in her eyes.
“He’s a banker,” Robert explained, “and I want to pretend I’m robbing him ... at the party.”
That made some sense to Nicole. “OK,” she said and began to write a few words. When she was finished, she asked, “What’s next?”
“Ummm ... say ‘It’s a holdup. No trouble. There are two armed men at the door.’ ”
Nicole wrote some more. “Is that it?” she said.
“That’s it. That’s all I want to say.”
“What do you mean `No trouble’?” she asked.
“I mean `Don’t give me no trouble’. You know, ‘Do as I say.’ ”
“Oh, I see.” Nicole went back to the paper and wrote some more. “OK,” she said, “here it is.”
The note read: C’EST UNE HOLDUP. NE ME DONNE PAS DE PROBLEME. IL Y A DEUX HOMMES ARMES A LA PORTE.
He was amused. “You call it a holdup too?”
“Yes. It’s the same word in both languages. We learned it from you guys. We never had any holdups here until the English came around.”
The note was evidently all right because the next day it worked fine. Robert gave it to the teller and she gave him $2,100.
The nice part about working in Quebec City was that Robert could fly home in time for supper. His whole experience there was so pleasant that Robert promised himself he would go again. As it turned out, he came back twice. Each time, he stayed in the same grand Chateau Frontenac and robbed the same tiny bank on Anne Street. Somewhere along the way Nicole’s little note was lost and he never used it again.
One week after Quebec City, Robert and Janice were flying to Bermuda. A lot of things went through his mind as the plane floated through the clouds. He dreamed of living a different life, a legitimate existence and how pleasant that would be. He mulled over the idea of opening a small bar in Bermuda and going straight. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. Janice didn’t know it but he had $10,000 in his pockets.
Once they got to Bermuda, Robert took the best room in the best hotel he could find. The first two days on the island, they played at being wealthy tourists – dining, shopping, bicycling, snorkeling, touring. The third day, July 18, they went to the Registrar General’s office and got married. The whole procedure took less than ten minutes. After the ceremony they went to a posh hotel bar and drank all day and most of the night. By bedtime both of them were so drunk neither could remember their room number or the name of their hotel. Somehow they found their way. Robert wanted to carry Janice over the threshold to their room but they were both giggling so much, he couldn’t lift her. The next morning Robert had champagne and flowers delivered to the room.
The rest of the week was wonderful. They ate every meal at the most expensive restaurants, toured the island on mopeds, went parasailing and scuba diving. Robert particularly loved the scuba diving. He learned fast and was very good at it. In between all the activities there were the happy hours when they became hilariously inebriated. They paid cash for everything. By the time they flew home, Robert was almost broke.
Back home, one of the first things Robert did was to apply for a Royal Bank Visa credit card. He already had an American Express card but wanted the added flexibility of Visa. The application was made out in the name of Robert and Janice Whiteman. On the form Robert wrote that he was a security analyst who had been employed for the last year and a half at his father’s firm, Whiteman Ltd., Satin Towers, Suite 410, Calgary, Alberta. Taking out another credit card seemed like a sensible thing to do, but the decision would eventually come back to plague him.
It wasn’t that he abused his credit. Robert made sure his credit cards were paid up to date. On one occasion, when he owed $4,000 to American Express, he robbed a bank in Toronto then, after discarding his disguise, walked down the street and paid his American Express bill with the stolen cash.
To replenish his depleted cash reserves after the honeymoon, Robert decided to try his hand in a place he’d never been before, the little Ontario city of Peterborough. He flew from Ottawa on a small commercial plane, took the limousine service from the tiny Peterborough Airport into town, and settled into a room in the downtown Holiday Inn overlooking Little Lake.
Janice and Robert at the head table at their wedding reception in Pepper’s Steak House, Ottawa, 1985
Robert and Janice at their wedding reception in Ottawa, 1985
Linda Craig with Robert Whiteman in Ottawa, 1985
Then he went for a walk through the downtown section and chose his target, a Toronto Dominion Bank on the busy corner of George and Hunter. The bank had all the prerequisites: a side door leading to an alleyway, a parking lot nearby that was adjacent to a number of stores, access to a seldom-used stairwell. It was perfect. That afternoon, he donned his long wig and moustache, put on his suit and over it, his brown and green army fatigues. Off he went with his briefcase and plastic bag.
Robert looked so weird in the fatigues and wig that, as he was walking to the bank, someone yelled from a passing car, “Hey, hippie, show some respect for the army. Get a job!”
Robert chuckled to himself and ignored him. He got $8,237 from the Toronto Dominion Bank that day, returned to his room in the Holiday Inn and relaxed with TV for the evening. The local news told the shocking story of the robbery. It revealed that there had been only one other attempted bank robbery in Peterborough in the last ten years. That was valuable information for Robert. Right then, he decided he would come back and visit Peterborough again.
In August the Whitemans had a wedding reception for sixty of their friends and relatives in Peppers Steak House on Bank Street. It was a gala evening of dinner and dancing. Robert managed to wangle an invitation for Tommy Craig and a few of the boys from the Playmate Club. They were all very well behaved but Tommy was funny throughout the evening. He didn’t want anyone taking his picture. Every time someone aimed a video camera or a still camera at him, he would turn away or block his face with his arm.
The only person who got out of line was Robert. A lot of Janice’s relatives were there and she was embarrassed by Robert’s behaviour at the head table. During dinner he and one of his Playmate buddies began flicking peas at each other with their forks. Janice couldn’t believe it. There was her husband, looking like a Bay Street lawyer with his navy blue suit and crisp shirt and tie, with his head flat to the table, flicking his food at one of the guests. Tommy thought it was great fun. It was just like the Kid to get into a food fight at his own wedding reception.
In early September Robert purchased two handguns from one of his friends at the Playmate. Both had been stolen from homes in the Ottawa area. One was a 9mm Browning automatic for which he paid $350. The other was a snub-nosed Smith and Wesson with an RCMP stamp on it that cost him $100. For Robert, getting that RCMP gun was like having a new toy for Christmas. He got a bigger thrill out of that gun than any other he had owned. He twirled it, took it apart, cleaned it, loaded and unloaded it, and took target practice with it in the bush on the outskirts of Ottawa. These were the two guns he would use in all the rest of his holdups. One he carried in a pancake holster off his shoulder; the other he tucked behind his belt in the back of his pants.
It was around this same time in September that Janice started once again to get fed up with Robert’s lifestyle. He spent his afternoons smoking, drinking rye and staring at his new VCR. During the day, he would watch almost any movie he could get his hands on. Sometimes, when he failed to pick her up at work, she would phone him and find him home watching videos. She knew he was drinking heavily because when he did come to get her she could smell the liquor on his breath and the stench of stale smoke in his clothes. She also noticed he wasn’t looking after the house as well as he
used to. Almost every night he was off to the Playmate Club and she was finding it more and more difficult to track him down.
He also had some kind of a falling out with George Papadas, the landlord, and wasn’t doing any more maintenance work for him. The two of them weren’t even talking. When Robert talked about him, he called him “that Greek fucker.”
Papadas told Janice he didn’t know what happened between them.
“We’re going along all right until one day he starts to call me names and swear at me – for nothing. I never did anything to the man. Then the next time I see him, it’s the same thing, only now he’s giving me the finger. I don’t need to take that shit from him.”
Janice had to agree. And she wasn’t surprised. One minute Robert could be someone’s best friend and helper; the next minute he’s his worst enemy. It didn’t take a whole lot for him to swing around on a person.
The reason for Robert’s disaffection with Papadas might lie in a conversation he had with the landlord. Robert told Papadas he was a stocks courier but when Papadas started asking questions about the stock market, which he knew very well, it was evident that Robert didn’t know what he was talking about. The more Papadas stumped him, the angrier Robert seemed to get. After that, Robert wanted nothing to do with him.
As the year progressed Janice and Robert’s relationship began to seriously deteriorate. He was staying out all night several nights a week. When he finally came home, he had either the most lame excuse or the wildest story imaginable as a reason for his absence. He didn’t sleep much, he was constantly on edge and his mood swings were dramatic. Janice began to suspect he was using cocaine. Their arguments were getting more intense and vicious. During one screaming match he called her a fucking whore. But then, while he was stomping out of the house, he yelled back, “I love you!”
Janice was convinced his erratic behaviour was tied to the company he was keeping. She wanted him to stay home or spend more time with Steve Veinot, so they could go out with Laurie and Steve as a couple. Robert told her she wasn’t going to choose his friends. She told him either to come home at night or get out of the apartment.
Although he was often surly and difficult to handle, there were times when he was the complete charmer. When Steve and Laurie got married they asked him to be an usher at their wedding. It was such an honour for Robert that he made sure he was on his best behaviour. He was a big hit at the reception, telling stories and serving drinks, getting the older women up to dance. Everyone was impressed with his manners and his graciousness.
In late September Robert did something extraordinary. He flew to Sudbury and held up the Montreal Trust for $4,078, but he didn’t come home. He stayed in town and five days later held up his first jewellery store.
On September 25 he walked into the Birks Store at 58 Durham Street South and went to the estate counter where the most valuable jewels are kept on consignment for customers. He asked Barbara Wright to show him a certain 2.28 carat ring which he apparently knew was in the store. While he was talking to the clerk, Robert was flashing a roll of money one inch thick. When Mrs. Wright advised him that this ring had recently been shipped out, Robert asked to see some other expensive rings. He said that he had won a lottery and wanted to buy a real special ring for his girlfriend. Mrs. Wright began to show him some other rings. While she did, Robert opened his coat and showed her his gun. He quietly told her not to move or say anything, and said that he wouldn’t hurt her. He told the woman to take all the rings out of the showcase and put them in a small blue Birks bag. After she complied with his demands, Robert ordered her into a small office behind the counter. Then he left the store. Birks established the retail value of the stolen rings at $63,200.
Robert flew home and sold the jewellery to Tommy for $10,000. It was the biggest payday he’d ever had; enough to convince him that his friends at the Playmate Club were right. Stealing jewellery was a lot more lucrative than robbing banks. A whole new avenue had opened up for Robert.
On October 5 he flew to Montreal and went into Mappins Jewellers on Ste. Catherine Street West. He approached the sales clerk, Frances O’Connor, at the estate counter and asked to see a $28,000 ring. As she handed him the ring, he placed his hand in his pocket as though he had a revolver and demanded the remaining rings from the showcase. Robert was flabbergasted when she yelled “No!” then threw herself down flat on the floor behind the showcase so Robert could barely see her. Robert didn’t know what to do. Under the circumstances he had no choice but to turn and run from the store with only the one ring in his pocket.
There was a lesson here for him. Clerks in banks don’t care about the money they handle. It’s just paper that belongs to a big impersonal firm. They have no sentimental attachment to it. Jewellery is another thing entirely. It has shape and form and style, almost a personality all its own. Often it remains in the store for a long period of time and the clerks become attached to it. When someone tries to steal it, they can become disturbed and very protective of it. Robert realized that was why Frances O’Connor took the risk she did. She wanted to make sure no more of their precious jewellery was stolen. Robert could understand what she was doing, but her bizarre behaviour was very maddening.
After the fiasco at Mappins Jewellers, Robert went back to a oncea-week rampage with the banks. He did the Bank of British Columbia in Vancouver for $2,000. The next week he went back to the Royal Bank on Anne Street in old Quebec City for $1,500. The week after that he was in London at the CIBC for $1,598; the next week at the CIBC in Toronto for $2,741. Every time he counted his take, it was discouraging. There just wasn’t enough money in robbing banks.
On November 29 Robert invited Steve Veinot to accompany him to Toronto for the day. He told him he had to go there on business and would pay the air fare and all expenses for Steve. They took a City Express shuttle flight to Toronto and a limousine from the airport to the Eaton Centre downtown. Steve was surprised that Robert was dressed in casual clothes because he always saw him wearing a suit and tie when he went to work.
They walked around the huge indoor mall for about three hours, looking at the various shops and restaurants. Robert stopped occasionally to use the pay phone. He and Steve had some lunch, then took the limousine back to the airport and flew home. Robert never said a word about the business he was supposed to do there. As it turned out, he was casing the Eaton Centre for a future robbery. The store he settled on was Ani Jewellers which was located in the north east corner of the mall on the second level, directly below Birks.
In December Robert flew back to Toronto. When he walked into Ani Jewellers, he went to the estate case and was attended by sales clerk Stella Kwok. He asked her to show him a number of valuable rings in the showcase so that he could select the one he preferred. Once the rings were out on the top of the showcase, he said, “Put the rings in a bag.” Stella didn’t know what he meant. Robert opened the left side of his coat and showed her a black-handled revolver in his shoulder holster. Now Stella understood. She put four trays of rings plus some loose ones in a beige Ani Jewellers bag and handed it to him. As soon as Robert left the store Stella told the other clerks what had happened and they activated the alarm.
While the robbery was in progress, a private investigator named Mohan Grewal happened to be going by Ani Jewellers. He spotted Robert leaving the store, and thinking Robert was acting suspiciously, followed him into the maze of service corridors that lies hidden within the Eaton Centre. When Robert realized he was being followed, he turned and faced Grewal who was quite close behind him.
Robert pulled out his big Browning automatic and pointed it at Grewal.
“Back up or I’ll shoot. Get out of here. Move it! Now! Now!” Grewal turned around and briskly walked away.
The retail value of the stolen rings was $117,000. Robert received $18,000 for them. The fence took them to Brooklyn, New York and sold them for $30,000.
Although Robert didn’t like robbing jewellery stores because of their vast size a
nd openness and the tighter security they employed, he had to admit that this was where the real money was. He thought about that all through the rest of the month and on December 31 he made a million-dollar New Year’s Resolution. He intended to rob the richest Birks store of them all. Come the new year, he was going back to do what he called the Big Vancouver.
CHAPTER 9
The Cops
While Robert Whiteman was robbing banks, his wide-spread activities were naturally causing some consternation among the police forces across the country. But there were so many bank robberies in so many cities in Canada that no police force had any reason to think that just one person was causing so much trouble.
In Ottawa, however, a great irony was brewing that brought three lowly detectives together who would eventually have a dramatic impact on Robert’s life. Under normal circumstances, these three would never have crossed Robert’s path because their area of investigation was far removed from the realm of major crime where Robert operated. Their entry on the scene was a twist of fate rooted in the times and in the convoluted political structure of the Ottawa region.
In 1984 Canada was on its way to claiming the dubious distinction of having more bank robberies per capita than any other nation in the industrialized world. Although Montreal maintained the lead as the Canadian city with the most holdups, Ottawa was inching its way into the top five. By August 23, 1984, the number of major robberies in Ottawa had risen to sixty-two, more than double the total of twenty-nine for the entire previous year.
It wasn’t only armed robberies that were on the increase in Ottawa. Break and enters were at an all-time high. The combined figure for residential and business break-ins was 8,224. The gross value of the stolen merchandise from Ottawa residences alone exceeded two and a half million dollars. Equally worrisome for the Ottawa area police authorities was the low solution rate for these break-ins, some of it a consequence of the complex political structure of the Ottawa-Carleton region.
The Flying Bandit Page 12
