Chapter 9

Eating crow is difficult for most people, but it was especially humiliating for Edgar Landry, who was unaccustomed to being held accountable. For the last

two days he had been fed a steady diet of crow and this day was no different as he cooled his heels in the mayor's outer office. His tie was pulled down, the collar button undone. Landry looked beat. When he was allowed into the inner sanctum, Robert did not rise to shake his hand, but instead motioned for him to take a seat while he completed a telephone call.

Robert opened the conversation without greeting. "Edgar, please tell me you have some good news."

"Mr. Mayor, my staff has suggested a diversion and I have decided to give it a try," he said softly. "We are in the process of locating a collection of specialists with expertise and authority in every conceivable avenue of approach in the investigation of this case. Their purpose will be to review the actions and efforts of our staff up to this point, to detect possible deficiencies and to make recommendations as to the future direction of our efforts." Landry was searching the mayor's face for any telltale sign. "I can't identify any of these specialists yet, because we have only just begun to make inquiries, but we anticipate having them in the city within a week. We will commit ourselves to them for a period of two weeks." When he finished, he swallowed hard and then folded his hands in his lap. "Okay, Edgar, that will buy you at most three weeks. What will you do then?"

"Honestly, I don't know. There's always the chance of a break in the case or the horror of another incident which might provide new leads. This is the only straw I could find to grasp."

"How unlike you, Edgar, I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. Do you really think anything will come of the efforts of these so-called experts?" His voice was filled with sarcasm.

"No, not unless we get some breaks. Our people are very competent and we have an extensive intelligence network. Everything points to this being an act committed by a group of people. If so, eventually someone will get drunk and brag or someone will let something slip. When they do, word will get to us, especially with the hundred and twenty thousand dollar reward on the line. Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll happen soon. Until then, I'm admittedly just buying time."

"Okay, that's honest, if not encouraging. What do you need me to help you with - aside from trying to keep the media and community off your back, of course."

Landry's voice recovered some assurance in its tone. "I need you to contact the Innkeepers Association or the managers directly and have them donate suites for these specialists for two weeks, but I want each of them to stay in a different facility. We don't need them side-tracked by feeling that they have to show off for one another."

"Is that the real reason for separating them, Edgar?" Robert asked.

"It's the main one."

"I'll have Joni get on it at once. Do you want her to coordinate with you or someone else?"

"Aubrian or Stokley. They have the ball and I intend to let them run with it."

"Very well," Robert smiled.

Ken Johnson, standing next to his desk at the precinct office, could not believe the look of elation on the face of Bill Ed Flint as he came out of Aubrian's office. Flint was not one to openly display his emotions. "Hey partner, what's up? You look like the mule eatin' briars."

"I can't believe it! The captain gave in for once. I'm gonna get to select one of the experts."

"Which one is that?"

"An ole buddy of mine. He's the best I ever saw at solvin' single offender crimes."

"What makes you think the Porter case was a single offender?"

"Nothin', but if it was, this guy is our best shot. A fellow named John Bowman."

"Never heard of him."

"Do you remember, a few years back there was a string of bank robberies that went on for months?" FlInt asked. "It was right after we took over primary responsibility for investigating them and it was all pretty new to us then. The guy would hit, lie low for several weeks, and then hit again."

"Oh, you're talkin' about the 'Magician'," Johnson said, rocking back on his heels. "The guy the Bankers Association brought in. Came in like gangbusters. Looked at the case files. Identified the perp and then just disappeared?"

"That wasn't quite the way it went down, but it's close enough. Yeah, that was Bowman."

"I never saw him, but I heard he was the most arrogant guy who ever rode into town," Johnson added.

"You sound like the Captain. Felt that way myself until I met him. He's not that way at all. Really, he's one of the nicest fellows you'd ever wanna meet. The problem is that when he gets to workin', he's so intense - he blocks out everybody and everything else. That's just the way he works."

"What, were you in Robbery then?"

"Naw, I just heard about it. Didn't meet him until a couple a years later. I was in Mississippi testifyin' before a federal grand jury in Jackson. He was up there workin' on somethin' else. Somebody pointed him out to me and I went over and introduced myself," Flint said. "I told him the nickname he had been given down here and got a good chuckle over that. He explained to me what he had done. No magic. Didn't do anything we all don't know to do now. Just common sense really. Oh, he tried to soften it by saying that it's a lot easier to work on only one case at a time and that he would never have solved anything if he had to carry the load we do. He felt the key to his success is his ability to focus -- to get absorbed in what he's doin'."

"Well, are you gonna to tell me how he did it or is that some white thing I'm not suppose to understand?"

If Johnson had not been grinning when he made the comment, Flint would have simply walked away shaking his head. He did not waste time on what he considered nonsense. "Well, I'll tell you what I remember, but that was awhile ago." Flint sat down at Johnson's desk in the extra chair. "First off, he had everything lined up before he got here. He had the bankers go to the top and get authorization for him to be given access to everything we had. He didn't come in tryin' to make friends or gain respect. He went directly to work, digesting selected case reports and viewing all the video tapes of the robberies. From that point he began to make judgments."

"What do you mean by that?" Johnson was leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head.

"Well, for example, he could estimate from the perp's size, build and posture that he was thirty or less. The guy was methodical and confident, so Bowman concluded that the robberies were not acts of desperation - that he was not strung out on drugs or a compulsive gambler needin' fast money. With me so far?"

"Sure."

"Now," Flint continued, "none of the witnesses could give much of a description. He covered his skin with gloves, clothing, a ski mask and sunglasses. Also, he never spoke. He used a demand note, which he was careful to retain. He always committed the robberies on a midweek afternoon, and he always used a stolen late model Ford product as a getaway car. Oh, another thing," Flint leaned forward putting his elbows on his knees. "The guy wasn't nervous or uneasy handlin' his revolver, which seemed to be the same weapon in each robbery. From all that, Bowman said he pretty much knew what he was lookin' for. All that was left was the who."

"Now you lost me. That's a pretty big jump." Johnson unlaced his hands and sat upright.

"I thought so too, until he explained it to me. Then it all made sense. His first judgment dealt with whether the guy was an accomplished pro or if he was merely coached. He felt instinctively that it was the latter. Now don't interrupt or I'll leave somethin' out." Flint spoke softly as if reciting a legend. "Bowman's premise was that a lone branch bank robbery is stupid. The risks are simply too great and the payoff is too small."

"Okay", Johnson remarked cagily. "He reasons that he's looking for a 20 to 30 year old dumbass, maybe."

"Naw, he knew a lot more than that. He knew he was lookin' for a white male, 30 or less, who was experienced in armed robberies and who was probably paroled shortly before the series of bank robberies began."

In response to Johnson's look of incredulity, Flint smiled and countered: "Now wait a minute, it's really not that big of a stretch. Remember - this was before crack cocaine became a problem. The criminal world was very different then. There was a relatively small group of psychopaths goin' back and forth to prison like a revolvin' door. Also, then you didn't have a lot of blacks committing bank robberies. Armed robberies, yes, but not bank robberies and certainly not alone. Also, there were the sunglasses - obviously, to avoid detection of eye color."

"Now," Flint continued slowly. "The guy always followed a very precise routine. He altered his selection of clothing each time. Other than that, he was compulsive. He would always make all employees and customers lie face down on the floor so that he could keep them under observation, except for one teller that he kept alongside of him. He always had a pillow case. The teller was never allowed to touch inside the cash drawers. He avoided small bills, and would fan wrapped stacks in the drawers and left any stacks containing a variety of denominations. He would also fan each stack of unwrapped bills then secure it with a rubber band before placing it in the pillow case. Compulsive, yes, but perhaps even more suggestive that he knew something about bank security practices such as where the dye pouches are likely to be placed and avoiding marked bills. Where does a young guy learn these kinds of things? --- Crime U., a state pen," Flint said holding up his index finger.

"There were some other considerations as well," he continued. "One was his comfort with the revolver. It takes a special breed of cat to walk in a strange place and control a group of people with a revolver. This guy had experience. Where did he get that? Holding up liquor stores and convenience stores. Bowman told me the question that caused him the most problem turned out to be the clincher in identifying the perp. Why would anyone rob a branch bank on a midweek afternoon? Obviously, the best times would be when banks could be expected to have large amounts of cash on hand - Fridays, Mondays, or around the first or fifteenth of the month. The only advantage of midweek would be the expected reduction in foot traffic, but he wasn't satisfied with that explanation. This guy didn't seem to be concerned about the number of witnesses."

Flint explained that Bowman put together a list, from case files, of young men with a history of armed robbery who would likely be on parole. Then he interviewed parole officers to get their impressions on these individuals and others they might have under supervision who fit his profile. He was asking for personal information such as lifestyles, habits, living arrangements and so on. Once he got the list down to two or three suspects, he persuaded the officers to allow him to read the personal history reports on each guy. Then he returned to the division office for a short final interview. He told me that by that time he knew he was looking for a loner who acted like he thought he was smarter than anyone else and who drove a flashy car. "Turned out to be a guy who wasn't on his original list," Flint said. “He was a transfer case from California who drove a delivery van for an auto parts outlet. The guy was off work every Sunday and Wednesday or Thursday afternoons on alternate weeks."

"Bowman got photos of his prime suspect and two others. He put together a written report and hand delivered it to the lieutenant in charge of robbery. The three guys were put under loose surveillance and the perp was caught coming out of a bank the following week with a full pillowcase."

"Okay, I'll bite," Johnson said squirming in his chair. " What kind of car did he drive?"

"That was the same question I asked Bowman. It was a used red Z-28."