Robert decided to rob the Eaton Trust on Howe Street. He cased it for two days, going in several times and checking out the other buildings nearby. Then, for hours, he sat on a bench across the street from it and made mental notes of everything he saw. It was perfect – small and right in the heart of the city. There was an alleyway outside the bank that led to an unlocked door in an office building. This opened onto a hallway that led to a coffee shop in another part of the building around the corner from the bank. The layout was too good to be true.
As Robert suspected, security inside the bank was clearly lacking. Like most Canadian banks, the Eaton Trust had no security guard and no electronic surveillance. From the day he entered the country, Robert had noticed the lack of security in Canadian financial institutions. During the short time he was in Ottawa he couldn’t believe the number of bank robberies that had taken place there. When he examined their security, he knew the reason.
Robert spent a lot of time thinking about how to pull off the Vancouver holdup with the least risk of being caught. He figured the key to a successful bank robbery was to wear a disguise. That way, no one in the bank could identify him. After the holdup he intended to get rid of the disguise as fast as possible and blend into a crowd. Robert could see that a disguised person could walk into the Eaton Trust Company, rob it, walk outside into the alleyway and then disappear into the hallway of the nearby office building. Here he could remove his disguise in the stairwell and come out the other end of the hallway into the coffee shop which was a long, safe way from the bank. He could be out of his disguise and having coffee before the police even arrived at the scene of the crime.
Robert had everything worked out in his mind. His only problem was, he wasn’t sure he could do it. It was a big step backward into his former way of life and he wasn’t sure he wanted to go back there. Every day, after sitting on the bench in front of the trust company, he returned to his room, flopped on his bed, and opened a bottle of rye. Between sips, he stared at the ceiling and tried to think things through. His mind was torn between the prospects of robbing that bank or getting a job and slugging it out for the rest of his life. He knew there was no future in robbing banks. But the more he thought about his situation, the more he was convinced that he had no future anyway. Even if he went straight as an arrow, all he had to do was make one tiny mistake, like getting a speeding ticket, and a smart cop could check him out and have him sent back to a U.S. federal prison.
The only way he could have a future was to give himself up, do his time and start over. That was out of the question. He had 2,161 days remaining on his U.S. sentence, almost six years. He knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to give himself up.
Maybe he could stay in Canada and work things out. Get a job, be with Janice, keep his nose clean. He realized that his chances of staying out of trouble were slim. Over the years, he’d been given a lot of opportunities, but every single time he had blown his chances and gone back to crime. People tried to make a big deal out of his mangled childhood and his psychological problems, but to him that was all baloney. He knew exactly what his problem was. He wanted money, lots of it, and he wanted to make it fast and easy. He had no intention of working an eight-to-five job; that was not his way of doing business. Where money was concerned, he had always chosen the easy way out. Robbing banks was an easy way to make a comfortable living. And robbing this little Canadian bank would be the easiest of all. He knew from experience that doing a robbery was hard on him. It would be stressful, but that was a small price to pay. He knew he could rob this bank and no one would ever catch him. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that this was his only way to go.
Robert got off his bed and left the room. He went to a theatrical supply shop that rented costumes for theatre productions and masquerade occasions. While the clerk wasn’t looking, he stole a bushy moustache and left the store.
Then he called Janice. Among other things, he told her, “I want to come home. I can’t find any work. I don’t think it’s going to work out.”
“Well that’s fine. C’mon home. You know that I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Yeah, but I feel like such a jerk, coming all the way out here and then going right back.”
“Don’t worry about that. The important thing is that we’ll be together. We can work out anything together.”
“Yeah, I know but ... “
“Do you need some money to pay for the trip home?”
“No, I think I’ll be alright. I’ll let you know if I need some help. I should be coming home in a few days.”
“Robert, I wasn’t going to tell you this but now that you’re coming back, there’s something you should know.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Really!” he shouted. “For sure?”
“For definitely sure,” she said with a smile in her voice. “How do you feel about that?”
Robert was surprised at her sudden news but he convinced her he was delighted. He was very reassuring and that was just what she wanted to hear. Both of them laughed and carried on in the high spirits of their happiness. He ended the call by telling her he would let her know when he was flying in.
Now he was even more resolute in his decision. A baby was coming, he wanted to go home, and he had no money; he had to rob that bank. At the same time, he knew that when he did, he was starting down a road that could only lead to heartache. He loved Janice and he was positive that he’d love the new baby, but he suspected that his time with them would not be long.
It was difficult working up enough nerve to rob the bank. For three days in a row he took the plastic bag containing his disguise and went down to the Eaton Trust. He stood in front of it for hours, unable to summon the courage to rob it. He knew he was going to do it, he knew how he was going to do it, he knew he’d be satisfied once he did it, but he just couldn’t seem to take those first irreversible steps to get the job started.
To break the impasse, he walked over to the Hotel Georgia and sat at the bar for over an hour. He didn’t drink, he just sat there thinking: Maybe he should call Janice and tell her he’s not coming back. Maybe he should call her and ask her to send out some money so he could fly home. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Finally, he got up, walked into the washroom, put on his exterior baggy clothes, glued on the moustache, and headed for the bank. When he walked in it was 12:20 p.m. He approached the customer counter, pretended to fill out a deposit slip, then took it to the teller nearest the front door. He could barely breathe. His chest felt as if there was a heavy weight on it. His throat felt as if it was clogged. He tried to cough but couldn’t. With his heart thumping in his chest, he passed the woman a note which read: “DO NOT PANIC. DO NOT PULL THE ALARM. GIVE ME THE MONEY IN YOUR DRAWER. I HAVE A GUN.”
When the teller looked up into his face he showed her the bulge in his jacket pocket. She assumed he had a gun and followed his instructions. The whole thing was over in twenty seconds.
As planned, once he left the bank Robert shed his disguise and went through the office building to the coffee shop. He knew he had gotten away with the robbery when no one followed him out into the alleyway. He also knew if the police didn’t catch him in the first minute after the robbery, they never would. From the coffee shop he walked a block towards the harbour to board the sea-bus that would take him across the bay to North Vancouver. As soon as he got on the ferry he raced to the washroom to urinate. His relief was so prolonged that by the time he was finished, they had almost reached the other side.
After disembarking, he went to a fancy restaurant and treated himself to the most sumptuous meal he’d had since coming to Canada. While it was being prepared, he went to the washroom and sat in a cubicle to count his take. He had stolen a grand total of $650. Considering the anxiety he’d been through, it was disappointing, barely enough to get him home. More than anything, it represented a commitment. Whatever the consequences, he had made his decision. He was going to make his living robbing banks. He could see that with the paltry sum he had in hand he would have to rob another bank before he returned to Ottawa.
When he finished eating, he went across the street for a haircut. While he was getting trimmed he decided where his next holdup would take place. Across the way, he saw a travel agency advertising trips to Calgary. With its modern skyline it looked like a wealthy city. He was sure he could do some banking business there. Besides, he told himself, if he was going to live a life of deceit, he had better learn more about the city Robert Whiteman came from.
In the travel agency he bought an airplane ticket to Calgary, then took a taxi back to his hotel, gathered his belongings and headed for the airport. He was about to embark on his first flight as the Flying Bandit.
At the Vancouver airport Robert phoned Janice. He felt good about the fact that this time he didn’t have to call her collect. Robert told her he had to go to Calgary for a few days to see his father. She was pleased for him and wished him good luck.
Once he touched down in Calgary, Robert went to the best hotel he could find. If he was going to be engaged in dangerous, demanding work, he intended to live as well as he could for as long as he could. It was a pattern he would follow until the day he was finally captured. As soon as Robert had fresh money in his hands he made a point of spending it extravagantly, and not just on himself.
This time he went to the hotel’s bar and drank at least twenty shots of Crown Royal. Then he went to a legalized charity gambling casino in the hotel and won several hundred dollars playing blackjack. It tickled him that he had made almost as much money playing cards as he had stolen from the Vancouver trust company.
After midnight, in an alcoholic haze, he called Janice and excitedly told her how much money he had won. He explained how he had been talking to his father on the phone, how well they got on, how they had made plans to meet. He said he thought his father might even offer him a job. He rambled on about how his luck was changing and how their life together was going to be great.
Janice was glad to hear from him. She had some good news too. She had just got a job with the Regional Municipality of Ottawa-Carleton as a counsellor in their emergency housing program. Her pay had risen to $9 an hour. Robert and Janice fed off each other’s enthusiasm. They talked about being able to afford a new apartment in a better part of Ottawa. Janice said a friend of hers had told her that a neat apartment was available in the Glebe, an up-scale area in Ottawa for successful young adults. Robert was all for it. He said they could check it out as soon as he got home.
“When will that be?” she asked.
“Maybe the day after tomorrow. I’ll call and let you know.”
Robert needed that much time. It took him two days to select his next piece of work. It was the Bank of Nova Scotia on 8th Avenue S.W. As usual, it was perfect – no surveillance, busy spot, accessible to a mall.
He went in around noon wearing his disguise, handed the teller a note and walked away with $3,830. Minutes later, after discarding his costume in the bathroom of a mall, he was walking among the crowd of shoppers. By then, he was convinced that not even the teller he had robbed could identify him. And nobody in the mall had any idea that he was the robber. Holding up banks in Canada was too easy. His future course was clear. More than ever, he was convinced of it.
After the robbery, Robert again had to urinate badly and went into a public washroom. Then he went directly to a travel agent and reserved a seat on an Air Canada flight departing that evening. He called Janice and told her he was on his way back and would land in Ottawa at 11:00 p.m.
“Great!” she said. “I’ll be there to meet you.”
“Are you sure you still want me?” he teased.
“I’m pretty sure I do,” she said with a laugh. “How were things with your father?”
Without hesitating, Whiteman launched into one of his most convincing deceptions.
“We got along great, better than ever before. He wants me to work for him, as a stocks courier and a security analyst.”
“Oh that’s wonderful, Robert,” Janice enthused. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Yeah, it really is amazing.”
“What does a security analyst do anyway?” she asked.
“I’ll explain it all to you when I get home. But I can tell you one thing – the money’s good. The only problem with the job is that I’ll have to travel a lot, but I think we can work that out.”
“I told you before, we can work out anything as long as we’re together.”
“See you at eleven, honey,” Robert said.
“I’ll be there!”
After leaving the phone booth, Robert went on a shopping spree. He bought Janice some costly exotic perfume. Then he toured the mall buying a brief case, a new suit, a tweed sports jacket, a pair of slacks, expensive shoes, a leather shaving kit and a suitcase. His days of shouldering a duffel bag and wearing old clothes were over.
When Robert got back to Ottawa, he and Janice hugged and kissed and held on to each other for a long time. Their first night together was intense with joy and rich with love.
Two days later, Robert agreed to another commitment. He and Janice decided to take an apartment at 20 Melgund Avenue in the Glebe. Glebe is an old Scots term that referred to the land around the churches of the city. In the old days, rent from the glebe provided income for the clergy.
During the last decade, the Glebe had become a fashionable locale for young professionals. Robert and Janice’s apartment was a one bedroom lower floor unit in a refurbished six-plex. It was owned by a second-generation Greek entrepreneur named George Papadas who was an engineering graduate from the University of Ottawa. Papadas was heavily into real estate and by the time he was thirty-eight he owned most of the homes on Melgund Avenue. As a landlord, he was very fussy about renting his apartments. Robert and Janice got the place only because their friends, Laurie and Steve Veinot, lived upstairs and acted as a reference.
George Papadas took an immediate liking to Robert. He was very impressed when Robert surprised Janice and stocked the apartment with brand new furniture. Janice was astounded at his purchases; everything was top of the line – the stereo, the living room suite. She marvelled at his expensive taste. Robert told her his father had given him an advance on his new job.
They talked about the job. There were two aspects to it. One was that he would be doing security analyses, checking on firms that were being robbed and recommending ways they could improve their security. The other aspect of the job required that Robert act as a high security courier, carrying large sums of money from one place to another. Because of the job’s security demands, he might have to use disguises, possibly wigs and moustaches and false identification. He said his job required that he maintain a low public profile. Thus, when Robert bought an inexpensive little two door Chrysler K-car to get them around town, he told her it had to be registered in her name.
He also told her that sometimes he would be required to travel across the country which would take him away from home for a few days at a time. There was also an outside possibility that he might have to carry a gun. That wasn’t confirmed as yet, he said, but it was a distinct possibility for the future. The pay would be good and his travelling expenses would be covered. Other than that, he wasn’t at liberty to reveal much more about the intricacies of his work.
To Janice it sounded like a great job. She was just so happy that he’d found something other than construction work, something that better suited his talents and intelligence. It all made perfect sense to her. Janice was overjoyed they were living together in their own beautiful apartment. She was so very much in love with him she could never suspect he was deceiving her.
While Janice worked, Robert cleaned the apartment, did the laundry and often cooked the meals. He so impressed the landlord with his work ethic that Papadas hired him as part-time building superintendent. Robert painted and did general maintenance for $8 an hour, which Papadas subtracted from the rent.
Robert liked the situation too; his masquerade with Janice provided him with a good cover. To all outward appearances he and Janice were just another struggling young couple living in a nice apartment in a trendy part of town. Janice had a respectable job with the regional government and Robert was a consultant who was required to fly around the country. The police would never suspect he was using commercial flights to rob banks in other cities.
Not long after they moved to Melgund Avenue, Robert began hanging around a small bar on Bank Street called Peppers. It was just a block away from their apartment and Robert found it a convenient place to have a few drinks. He went there almost every day and, in a very short time, became a popular member of their regular clientele. Everyone liked him because he was easy to talk to and he was always ready for a good time. Although Robert drank a lot, he was never obnoxious or crude. He loved to flirt with the women; the more he did, the more they liked it. Occasionally he brought Janice with him to Peppers but most of the time he went there by himself.
One of the regulars at Peppers who enjoyed Robert’s company was Neil McLaren. Neil was a thirty-four-year-old mechanic who worked at Southbank Dodge in Ottawa. He often came in after work or dropped by later in the evening. Neil and Robert had lots in common. They were both fun-loving, easy going, handsome young guys who were popular with the women in the bar. They spent a lot of time together at Peppers and, as they became closer friends, started frequenting some of the strip joints downtown.
Neil knew a lot of people in the clubs and liked rubbing elbows with the characters who hung out there. Many of them operated beyond the fringe of the law and many of them were “rounders,” guys who had been in and out of jail. Neil found it exciting to be around them. Neil was more of a “wannabe” rounder. He liked to hang around them and talk the talk, but in reality, he was a gentle man who wasn’t tough enough or daring enough to be a crook.
When Neil first met Robert he had no idea he was a bank robber. Their friendship was based on laughter and alcohol and a certain amount of mutual appreciation. Robert and Neil met three or four nights a week and often drank until the bars were closed. They had a lot of laughs together, but it was expensive and as time wore on Robert was ran low on money.
With the baby coming he knew he had to go on the road again. The problem was he had spent his money so freely he didn’t have enough to buy himself a plane ticket to get out of town. He went to Neil and asked to borrow a thousand dollars. Neil said he didn’t have it, but he knew someone in town who might lend it to him.
“Who is he?” Robert asked.
“Tommy Craig. The manager of the Playmate Club.”
“Is he a loan shark?”
“I don’t know about that but he’s probably going to want some heavy bread to make the loan.”
“That’s OK with me. Everybody’s got to make a buck.”
“And you got to pay him back fast – on the nose.”
“That’s alright. Let’s go see him. I need the money.”
The Playmate was a dingy strip club on the corner of Montreal Road and Emond Street in Vanier, a working class area in the east end of the city. The club was frequented by a cast of unsavoury characters and local toughs that often included a violent bunch of bikers. But no one got out of line at the Playmate because they didn’t want to deal with Tommy Craig.
Craig was a likeable Irishman who got by on the charm of an expansive personality and the threat of an iron fist. At 5’9” and almost 400 pounds, Tommy Craig was called the Fat Man. Everyone called him that, even his friends.
The Fat Man was fearless and tough. An amateur boxer as a kid, Tommy was surprisingly fast with his hands and could deliver a powerful punch. Now in his late thirties, he didn’t especially like to fight but he would take on anyone if he had to.
He was well known on both sides of the law. For the Ottawa police, the Fat Man was a major aggravation. They knew he was involved, one way or another, in most of the illegal activity in the Ottawa area. Their problem was that he was so devious and crafty they couldn’t prove what they knew. This was a terrible frustration for them.
For the crooks and rounders, Tommy was their “main man,” the captain of the ship. He knew everybody and could connect anybody, put any kind of deal together. If you wanted to buy or sell something, no matter how warm to the touch, all the spokes led to the hub of the wheel: Tommy Craig. Nobody crossed the Fat Man because it wasn’t good for business. If Tommy wouldn’t deal with a guy, that guy quickly developed either a marketing problem or a purchasing problem. If no one wanted to buy or sell their stuff, they were out of business.
The Fat Man was also known to lend money to people who couldn’t qualify for a loan at the bank. The “juice” he charged for interest ran to 30 percent for one week. Both the principle and interest had to be back exactly on time, no mistakes.
Neil brought Robert to the Playmate and introduced him to the Fat Man. He told Tommy that Robert wanted to borrow a thousand dollars.
Tommy looked Robert over and said to Neil, “You vouch for him?”
“Yeah”
Tommy spoke to Robert: “It’s going to cost you $1,300.”
“That’s OK,” Robert said.
“I got to have it back in a week.”
“I don’t have any problem with that,” Robert replied.
Tommy pulled out a wad of cash and counted out a thousand dollars on the bar.
“There you go,” he said to Robert.
“Thanks,” Robert said to Tommy. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Sure,” Tommy replied. “I’ll have a rum and seven.”
When the drinks came, they touched glasses to seal the deal.
“Here’s to you, Mr. Craig,” Robert said. “And thank you very much.”
With a smile, Tommy said, “I like your style, kid.” That’s what he called Robert from then on, the “Kid.” The Fat Man and the Kid – it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Later that night Robert made his first purchase with the borrowed money. He went to another bar and met a young drug addict. Robert told him that he wanted to purchase a gun. The junkie said he could get one and they haggled over the price. Once they came to an agreement the young tough left the bar, and in a matter of minutes, returned with a gun. It was then Robert realized that, in Canada, it was easier to buy an illegal gun than a legal one.
Robert decided to fly to Halifax for his next piece of work. The choice came to him out of the blue. He had heard of Halifax but had never been there. He heard the Maritimes were beautiful; why not mix business with pleasure? He knew nothing about the banks out there but figured it would be a new experience for him, a new challenge.
The next day he told Janice he had to fly to Halifax for a meeting and to pick up some bonds. He would be gone for a couple of days. He told her if everything worked out on the job he’d probably get a bonus to go along with his commission. Janice was thrilled for him and helped him pack.
Robert took an Air Canada flight to Halifax and liked it so much he decided to register for the Aeroplan. As soon as he was settled in his room in the swank Hotel Halifax, he headed downtown to select a bank to rob. It didn’t take him long to chose the Royal Bank at 1317 Barrington Street, close to the harbour. The branch was a small one near a mall, just what he was looking for. He cased the place for two days.
He called Janice every night from his room in the hotel. The phone calls were to become part of a ritual for him. He would call her often when he was away, and always on the night before a robbery. While he sipped his Crown Royal he told her how much he loved her and how much he missed her. He told her about the beautiful city and its spectacular features, like the Citadel overlooking the harbour.
However, he didn’t tell her what was really bothering him. For some unknown reason, he had bad vibes about doing this bank job in Halifax. It just didn’t feel right to him and he very seldom had that feeling about his work. From the moment he got dressed and put his outer clothes and disguise in his briefcase he heard an inner voice telling him that this was not a good day for a robbery. Instead of going to the bank as he had planned, he went to the hotel bar and spent the day drinking rye and watching their big screen television.
That night he called Janice and told her the meetings were going longer than he expected and he wouldn’t be home for two more days. He went back to the hotel’s bar for more rye and struck up a conversation with anyone who happened to sit down beside him. He stayed there talking until the bar closed.
The next morning Robert dressed, took his briefcase and then ambled around the city for hours, trying to work up the nerve to go into the bank and rob it. At 2:00 p.m. he walked into the mall near the bank and found a washroom. In a cubicle, he put on his outer clothes, his wig and moustache and then hid his briefcase under the used paper towels in the disposal can.
The bank was a small place with a few tiny offices for the manager and his assistants. There were seven or eight customers waiting to be served at the five teller positions. Robert stood in line for several minutes until he came before the teller who was operating from the position nearest the front door. He handed her a plastic bag and a note saying he had a gun and wanted all of her cash. He made sure she could see the bulge in his windbreaker where he kept the gun. To his surprise, the teller took the note to the cashier’s cage and showed it to another teller. Robert couldn’t believe what was happening. What the hell did she think his note was, a withdrawal slip? Both tellers stared at the note with furrowed brows and confused looks on their faces.
Robert was saying to himself, “Come on, come on. What the hell is your problem. Can’t you read?” The next thing he knew, a third teller was reading it. “Jesus,” he thought. “Here I am trying to rob a bank and they leave me standing out here while they’re in there reading my note like it was a goddamn novel or something.”
Fiercely fighting his urge to run, he stood his ground and tried not to act nervous. Robert felt sure that the alarm hadn’t been sounded but he kept thinking that his escape route wasn’t very good. There was no back door out of the bank, no alley to disappear into, no parking lot to run to. He’d already been standing there for over two minutes. He had a terrible need to urinate and kept shifting from one foot to another. Robert was just about to walk away when one of the tellers put some money in the plastic bag and approached him at the counter. Robert snatched the bag out of her hands and, breaking one of his own inviolable rules, ran out the front door at a gallop. Back in the washroom, he retrieved his briefcase from the disposal can, put the money and his wig and moustache in it, changed his clothes in a cubicle, and walked out into the mall wearing his shirt and tie and fancy leather jacket.
From there he went to his room, used the toilet and counted his money. This time he got over $8,000. He was very pleased. He stuffed the money into his pockets and went down to the hotel’s main dining room to celebrate with a few drinks of rye and a thick juicy steak. When dinner was finished he sat smoking one cigarette after another, listening to the hotel employees talk about the big bank robbery that had taken place that afternoon.
There was a major train station near the Hotel Halifax and, on a whim, Robert decided to take the train home to Ottawa. He had plenty of cash, lots of time, and needed to unwind. No better way to see the country than by taking the train. This was the only time in his career that he chose the train over air travel. It was a mistake he would never make again.
Robert paid for a luxurious bedroom suite that contained its own washroom facility. As soon as he got settled in his compartment he headed for the bar car to have a few drinks and some friendly conversation. As the train rolled through the wooded countryside Robert sat and chatted with anyone who ventured near. He was having such a wonderful time that before he knew it, it was dark out. Around 11:00 p.m. the bar steward came over to him and said, “This is last call sir. Would you like another drink?”
Robert was surprised.
“Why are you closing up so early?”
“We’re just closing down until we get through U.S. Customs.”
It took a few seconds for the bartender’s words to sink in. What did he mean, U.S. Customs? Had he boarded the wrong train?
“Hey, I want to go to Montreal. That’s not in the U.S. Why are we going through U.S. Customs?”
“We have to. You see, sir, to save time, we cut through a part of Maine. Because of regulations, the train has to stop and let the U.S. Immigration and Customs come on board to check the passengers out. It’s not a problem, they just want to see a birth certificate or some form of identification.”
Robert felt as if he was going to throw up. A birth certificate! He had no birth certificate. The identification he did have was flimsy at best.
Jesus! he thought. Here I am, a wanted fugitive, trapped on a train in the United States of America with $8,000.00 in stolen money, a wig, a phoney moustache, and a loaded gun. My worst nightmare is coming true.
Out loud he said, “Jesus!” Two of the people in the bar car turned and stared at him. Robert smiled at them as if to excuse himself.
When he got up and left the car, he appeared to be under control. Inside he was shaking worse than he did when he held up a bank. One stupid mistake and his whole world was about to collapse! He didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do but finally decided to go back to his compartment. He pulled out the limited ID he had and placed it on the floor by the door. He put his train ticket beside it. Then he flopped on his bed and pretended to be passed out. When the customs officers came through, they opened his door, looked at the train ticket and moved on to the next room. When they asked the bar steward about Robert, he told them Robert had been drinking all day and had finally collapsed in his bed. No more questions were asked.
An hour or so later, the train was back in Canada and Robert was back in the bar car drinking Crown Royal. The steward could only smile and shake his head at Robert’s powers of recuperation.
The next morning the train pulled into Montreal and Robert caught a cab to the airport for an Air Canada flight to Ottawa. When he got home, Janice was pleased to hear that her husband had enjoyed such a successful business trip and had earned himself a bonus. Robert wouldn’t reveal the amount of his bonus but Janice had to assume it was significant because he was very generous with the money he gave her to pay the household bills.
She never saw the scads of cash he hid in various places around the house, or the huge roll of money the Kid took down to the Fat Man to pay off his loan and its exorbitant interest.