The Flying Bandit: Bringing Down Canada’s Most Daring Armed Robber

There were so many ex-convicts living in Vanier the police called it Fingerprint City. Many Vanier rounders liked to hang around the Playmate. And Robert Whiteman liked to hang around them; he spoke their language and was comfortable with them. After all, Robert was a crook, too. That’s what he’d been all his life.

From the first time Robert came into the Playmate he wanted to get close to the regulars in the club, but they were wary of him. He was friendly and entertaining but that didn’t mean a thing to them. They had to be careful. The city was crawling with undercover police who wanted to work their way into the inner circle at the Playmate Club.

Robert figured there was a sure way to be accepted by the criminals and convince them that he wasn’t a cop. To convince them that he too was a criminal, he had to tell them about one or two of his Ottawa bank robberies; give them all the details, the inside story.

So, Robert began to tell Tommy and a few other people in the bar that he was robbing banks. He was very convincing because he had a thorough knowledge of bank procedures and policies, and he knew about alarms and time locks. He also knew where the big money was kept and how to get it. Then, to make his point, from time to time he would flash his impressive bankroll. It wasn’t long before Robert was accepted into the crowd of crooks at the Playmate.

One of the first of those with whom Robert became friends was Lee Baptiste. They were an unlikely pair. No two people could have been more diametrically opposite than Robert Whiteman and Lee Baptiste.

They looked different. Robert was clean cut and attractive. He was always nattily dressed and well groomed. Lee was none of those things. At 5’ 8”, 165 pounds, he was small, dark and swarthy. He wore a droopy moustache, had decayed front teeth and was not terribly selective about the clothes he wore. The nine tattoos on various parts of his body were reminders of his prison background.

Robert and Lee talked differently. Robert was sophisticated and witty. He always had a crowd around him, listening to his stories. Lee was crude and gruff. He liked to laugh but preferred to listen rather than talk.

They acted differently. Robert was a thinker, an accomplished bank robber who carefully planned his crimes. He was not physically tough and he certainly wasn’t violent. Lee was a petty criminal who was as tough as nails and dangerously unpredictable. He had a lengthy record of violence that included assault and uttering threats. Although Robert sometimes carried a gun, he had little intention of firing it. Lee often carried a weapon and no one could ever be sure when he might use it.

Still there was something that drew the two of together. At some level they were kindred spirits. One possible common ground between Robert and Lee was cocaine. Once they started spending a lot of time together Robert’s cocaine habit began to flourish.

Keeping company with the rough crowd at the Playmate made Robert feel it would be smart to carry a gun, if only for the sake of appearances. When Janice noticed he had bought a shoulder holster and took a gun wherever he went, she became concerned. Robert convinced her that his work was dangerous. He said he was a marked man, often under surveillance, and there was always the possibility of his being attacked or kidnapped. She reluctantly suppressed her objections. When they went out together, he appeased Janice’s concern by leaving the holster at home but insisted she carry his gun in her purse.

Janice’s father died on January 19, 1985 and although his death was not unexpected, she took it very badly. Throughout his final days she had phoned home regularly. When he passed away, it left her severely depressed. Robert was concerned about her. He did his best to change his lifestyle so that he could stay home and comfort her. His kind consideration helped her immensely; they were closer now than they had been for a long time.

A month later, when Janice was feeling a little better, Robert was experiencing a problem of his own. His finances were totally depleted. He had to go back to work.

When he did, he went back with a vengeance, robbing six banks in two months. On February 22 he held up a Royal Bank in Ottawa for $3,474; March 1 he did a Royal Bank in Toronto for $3,990; March 13 he was in Regina and robbed the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce of $3,018.

Then, on March 29, he went into the Mercantile Bank in Ottawa at 350 Sparks Street and almost got caught. As soon as he approached the teller he sensed that something was wrong. The woman had a strange look on her face and, on the strength of a sixth sense he seemed to have, Robert decided to take what he could and run. He reached into her wicket and grabbed some checks off the counter. Then he turned and fled. His intuition proved to be right; the teller had sounded the alarm. When Robert stopped to watch the bank from a distance, he saw that within minutes the place was swarming with police. His near miss only made him all the more resolute. As he stood there with his heart pounding, he vowed to come back and rob this branch another time.

Five days later, on the same Ottawa street as the Mercantile Bank, he held up the Bank of Nova Scotia just a few blocks away. This time he took home $2,800. One week later he flew to Winnipeg and robbed the Royal Bank at 286 Portage Avenue of $2,137. The following Thursday he flew to London and did the Royal Bank on Wellington Road. He walked away from it with $4925.

Then on May 27, almost two months to the day since he had been shut out at the Mercantile Bank on Sparks Street, he went back again. This time Robert was on what he termed an “intellectual challenge to keep my vow.” Using the same disguise, approaching the very same teller in the same wicket, he handed her a holdup note and, without any trouble at all, left with $5,345. Successfully meeting the challenge of robbing that bank under those circumstances gave him the ultimate rush. As he was counting his money at home, he threw back his head and roared with delight.

Robert had heard the boys at the Playmate talking about the million dollar club – an elite group of criminals who had stolen one million dollars worth of jewellery in one heist. It was a concept that very much appealed to Robert’s sense of adventure and need for accomplishment. He thought about it a lot and, on several occasions, talked it over with Tommy Craig. They considered a number of possibilities.

In early June, he and Tommy flew to Vancouver first class on the Aeroplan for an abbreviated holiday. Besides eating and drinking and carousing, they also took time to drop into the big Birks jewellery store on Granville Street and visit the estate counter. They were impressed with what they saw. The gross value of the merchandise in that counter alone was over one million dollars. Robert could see his entry into the million dollar club staring him in the face.

The problem was the store would be difficult to rob. First of all, Robert didn’t like the escape routes and the surrounding properties. There was no immediate access to a mall where he could disappear and meld into a crowd. There was no place close at hand for him to change clothes and discard his disguise. Somehow he had to find a solution to this problem.

Secondly, he didn’t like the layout of the premises. The place was huge and wide open, with a lot of exits. During a robbery it would be hard to keep track of everyone in the store. An employee or customer could easily slip out of the place undetected and call the police. One thing seemed obvious to Robert. He would need an accomplice to rob this store.

There would be no robbery of the Birks store on this trip. But two things happened in Vancouver on this visit that offer a glimpse of Robert’s compulsive need for attention. One morning Tommy saw a magnificently carved decoy on display in the lobby of their hotel, the Bayshore Inn.

“It’s not so much the bird. It’s the carving. I like artistic things like that.”

“Yeah. I save Royal Doulton figurines. I got a whole collection at home. They’re beautiful.”

That night Robert came back to the room and pulled the carved decoy from under his coat and gave it to Tommy. Craig was not just surprised, he was upset.

“Are you crazy? We could both go to jail for a lousy $300 bird! What are you doing this for? If I want something like this, I can buy it. Jesus, man, you are crazy!”

Robert could tell that underneath Tommy’s vociferous displeasure, the Fat Man was impressed. It wasn’t long before both of them were howling with laughter.

The next day was a different story. Tommy and Robert were sitting at a bar in the hotel having a drink. Tommy noticed that Robert was dressed up and had a briefcase with him. Tommy wondered why but didn’t say anything about it. After ten minutes or so, Robert excused himself and said he’d be right back.

“What do you mean? I just got this rum and seven. Sit down and have a drink.”

Robert opened his briefcase and showed the contents to Tommy. There was over $5,000 in cash.

Tommy threw back his drink and the two of them rushed out of the bar. This time, Tommy was genuinely furious. He hadn’t been in jail in a long time and he had no intention of going back there over an armed robbery that he had nothing to do with.

That night, they packed their clothes and headed for the airport. On the way home, Tommy read in the newspaper that a lone gunman had robbed the Mercantile Bank in Vancouver of $5,100. That was Tommy’s last trip with Robert. The Kid was far too unpredictable, too dangerous to travel with.

Robert wasn’t the same after that trip to Vancouver. He was dissatisfied with what he was doing. In less than half a year he had robbed ten banks in four provinces for a total of $35,287. He was averaging just over $3,500 a bank. It wasn’t enough. The more he thought about his operation, the more unhappy he became. He knew that doing banks would never get him in the million dollar club. And for all the expense and the risk involved, robbing banks wasn’t worth it.

The very next bank he did proved his point. He decided to fly to St. John, New Brunswick. While he was waiting for his plane to depart at the Ottawa Airport, he sat in the lounge sipping his pre-robbery Crown Royal. Although he seldom consumed liquor on the day of a robbery it was customary for him to drink heavily the day before, when he was leaving on one of his trips. Robert was feeling no pain when he heard the announcement for passengers travelling to St. John’s to proceed to their boarding gate. When he got there, Robert handed in his boarding pass and the stewardess ripped off the stub and directed him to his seat. He started reading a Saturday Night magazine and, not long after lift off, fell asleep. When he awoke, the man next to him asked, “So what’s taking you to St. John’s?”

“Newfoundland!” Robert said. “I’m not going to Newfoundland. I’m going to New Brunswick.”

“Not on this plane you’re not. We’re half way across the island already.”

When Robert checked with the stewardess he found that his seat mate was right. The airline was embarrassed that he’d been allowed on the wrong plane and assured him they would fly him to St. John, New Brunswick on the next available flight at no cost. They also guaranteed that his luggage would be waiting when he arrived. It was a foolish mistake on both their parts and Robert was able to laugh about it. But he was adamant about not staying in Newfoundland. He had made up his mind long ago that he would rob banks in every province in Canada except Newfoundland and Prince Edward Island. Both these places were islands where he could be trapped. The first place the police would close down after a major robbery was the island’s airport.

The entire trip was a write-off because the next day when he held up the Bank of Nova Scotia in St. John he got only $1,300. He vowed never to come back to New Brunswick.

As disappointed as he was with his latest business venture, he soon rallied. He had always admired the stylish Chrysler 5th Avenues that Tommy and Pete Bond drove. With a little encouragement from the Fat Man, he decided to get one of his own from the place where Neil McLaren worked, Southbank Dodge. The only problem with buying the car was that Robert would have to take out a loan. He didn’t want anyone digging into his financial situation so he asked Janice, once again, to put the car and the loan in her name. She wasn’t so easily convinced.

“Look, I love the car,” she said, “but the damn thing is going to cost $400 a month.”

“My point is that I can’t afford that,” she replied. “I only make a little more than $800 a month.”

“Don’t be a smart ass, we’ve been through this all before. It works two ways for us. I’ve got to keep my financial status private. No one can know about it. And it’s important for you to establish a good credit rating.”

Compared to some of their other arguments, this discussion about the car didn’t last very long. That was because, in Janice’s heart, she really wanted Robert to buy the car. She’d never been very fussy about Tommy Craig as a person but she’d always loved his 5th Avenue.

A week later she and Robert were driving around in style. Janice had never owned anything so luxurious, so impressive as their new Chrysler.

As foolish as it was for Robert to do so, he liked to let people know he had a lot of money. He carried a big roll of cash and insisted on buying drinks for his friends or picking up the entire tab when he was out with Neil or Steve Veinot. One night Steve saw him flash a roll of big bills that had to be worth $10,000. It made him wonder about Robert’s job and marvel at how lucrative it must be. Another night in Fanny’s, a strip bar on Bank Street, Robert dropped his roll of money on the floor in front of Linda Craig. She had heard stories about Robert and suspected he was robbing banks.

“That’s not the point, Robert. You shouldn’t be advertising what you have because people will wonder where you got it. You don’t want the wrong people to start asking questions.”

Robert knew she was right about the money, but he didn’t really care. He liked having lots of money on him and continued to carry a big roll wherever he went. He still bought drinks and played the big spender. Nothing made him feel better than doing that.

Robert liked Linda Craig. He felt comfortable talking to her. He also liked playing tricks on her. One night he got dressed up and put on one of his disguises with the fake skin and all. Then he went into the club and sat at the bar where Linda was working. Using a strained voice and a phoney accent, he talked to her incognito for over twenty minutes. Tommy and a few of his friends sat in the corner and watched them with delight. Finally Tommy went up to his wife, took her aside and whispered, “Who’s this guy you’re talking to?”

“I don’t know. It’s the first time he’s been in here. Why? What’s the matter?”

Linda stared at him. While she did, Robert pulled a roll of cash from his pocket and put it on the bar. She still didn’t get it. Then Robert peeled off his moustache. Now Linda recognized him.

“Sure it’s Robert,” Tommy said. “Isn’t that amazing? Did you ever see a guy who could do something like that?”

“Don’t feel bad,” Tommy said. “He had everybody in the joint fooled. He’s like the fucking Shadow or something. He’s a master of disguise.” Tommy walked towards his boys in the corner, shaking his head.

“What did I tell you guys, he’s a fucking master of disguise. He could fool anybody.”

That Robert was good at disguising himself was no revelation for Tommy. By this time, Robert had told him all the details of his work. Tommy knew exactly what he was doing and how he was doing it, and was very impressed with his skill.

Robert might have been having a good time with the boys at the Playmate Club, but at home, things were not so good with him and Janice. She was extremely unhappy and told him so. It was bad enough that he had to fly all over the country with his job, but she was really getting fed up with his nightly drinking and carousing when he was home in Ottawa. Robert didn’t want anybody, including her, telling him when he could go out or when he had to come in.

Yet, as much as they quarrelled and fought they seemed to love each other. They had been living together for almost seven months. As furious as Janice got with him, she didn’t really want him to leave. No matter how volatile their relationship was, Robert had no intention of walking out.

In fact, he wanted to marry her. She was the first woman that he’d ever wanted to marry. He had planned to ask her before, but with everything that was happening in their lives, the time had never seemed right. Robert didn’t want to wait any longer. He knew she was still carrying some pain from the loss of her father and he thought getting married might lift her spirits.

So he proposed. He said that he had business to take care of in Bermuda and suggested they go down there together, get married and have a honeymoon and a holiday all at the same time. Janice, who had loved Robert from the first night they went out together, was delighted to accept his proposal. They arranged to get an application for a Bermuda marriage licence and reserved seats on a July 15 flight.

One week before they left for Bermuda Robert decided, on a whim, to go to Quebec City to finance the wedding. On July 8, he flew via Quebec Air into the provincial capital and took a room in the Chateau Frontenac. Following his normal procedure, Robert spent the rest of the day looking around for a suitable bank to rob. He decided on the Royal Bank at 65 Anne Street. It was close to an underground parking lot near city hall in the old part of town.

That first night in Quebec City, Robert went drinking in one of the quaint taverns near the Chateau Frontenac. Standing at the bar, he struck up a conversation with a pretty young woman named Nicole who was seated beside him. Although she spoke with a heavy French accent, they had little trouble communicating. As they talked it dawned on Robert that he might have a problem tomorrow if the teller he approached didn’t speak or read English.

With this in mind, he explained to Nicole that he needed someone to translate a note into French so that he could play a joke on a friend at a party tomorrow.

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?”

“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.’ ”

“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.

“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.”

“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.

“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 and 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 8

The Vicious Circle