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

Now a tense game of cat and mouse began between Galvan and his captors. Each had their own agenda and their own objectives.

Galvan, aware that he had no chance of being released on bail, was preoccupied with his chances for escape. Since the Pembroke County Jail was a run-down relic of a prison he felt confident that, given a little time and study, he could find a way out. If he couldn’t break out on his own he figured there was always the distinct possibility he could get some assistance from his friends.

Galvan realized that prolonged interrogations would have to take place between him and the police and the conditions at the Pembroke Jail were not suitable for such meetings. That meant he would be transported on a regular basis from the jail to the more modern facilities of the OPP detachment office which was located a mile away in downtown Pembroke. Galvan soon learned that he would be escorted from one building to the other by car, accompanied only by detectives Snider and Smith. These frequent outings gave him the opportunity to assess his chances for escape. Whenever he was transported Galvan studied every door, gate and hallway, making mental notes.

At the same time Lyle MacCharles, who was aware that Galvan had escaped jail in Michigan, knew they were taking a risk moving him back and forth from the county cells to the detachment office. He wasn’t concerned about Galvan’s friends coming to rescue him because the police had Pete Bond as an informant and he would forewarn them of any plans of that nature. MacCharles was more concerned that Galvan would use his ingenuity and try to escape on his own.

MacCharles assigned Snider and Smith to take Galvan’s statements because he was confident that the two of them could handle him. They were both experienced detectives and weren’t about to get careless with a prize like Galvan. They were both physically strong and fit. MacCharles knew that Galvan could never muscle his way past them and if he ever bolted, they could easily run him down in a foot race.

But MacCharles warned them to take all precautions and not be fooled or distracted by Galvan’s affable manner.

He told Snider, “Look George, this guy’s a runner. You and Shawn have to watch what you’re doing with him.”

“The way I read him,” MacCharles confided, “I don’t think he’s got a very high threshold for pain. George, you make it clear to him that he’s going to get the shit thumped out of him if he tries anything funny.”

Although Galvan never gave up hope of escape he gradually realized that his captors were extraordinarily diligent. Accepting that, his next major concern was to have his sentence reduced to the minimum. He knew the police were interested in taking down Tommy Craig, and although he had no intention of giving him up, he wondered what it was worth to them.

MacCharles too was interested in connecting Tommy Craig to the jewellery store robberies. If he could get Galvan to roll over on Craig he promised some consideration would be given to reducing Galvan’s sentence. Lessening Galvan’s sentence to get Tommy Craig off the street for a good long stretch would have been a worthwhile tradeoff.

Unfortunately this was an inducement that Galvan didn’t pursue. Galvan had doubts about the Fat Man. Initially he thought it was Tommy who had turned him in. When Craig sent Scott Milloy to act as Galvan’s defense counsel, Galvan didn’t want to use him because he suspected Milloy was tied to Craig. Galvan even believed that Tommy had some policemen on his payroll, and consequently, anything he might say about Tommy to the police, however non-incriminating, would get back to him immediately. Because of this belief, as paranoid as it may have been, Galvan refused to deal with any other detectives other than Snider and Smith.

His obstinacy in this regard did not sit well with the Ottawa police who wanted their own detectives to interrogate Galvan regarding the many Ottawa robberies he’d committed.

Another concern that MacCharles had was getting Galvan to confess to all the robberies he had committed. The inspector knew from Mel Robertson’s research that Galvan was a bigger catch than anybody thought he was. Although MacCharles wasn’t sure how big, he was determined to find out.

He had a number of strategy sessions with Snider and Smith. They all knew that Galvan was extremely bright and devious, but from their first interviews with him, they also saw that Galvan had a very big ego. He enjoyed the notoriety of being an important criminal and wanted to be acknowledged as the biggest and best at his trade. They sensed they could play to his ego to get him to tell about all his accomplishments, his robberies. They were particularly interested in getting him to admit to the Birks holdup in Vancouver.

MacCharles assigned Snider to do the interrogating. He would also handle all Galvan’s day-to-day demands, the negotiations about his sentencing, and the criminal involvement of any other parties. Smith, noted for his meticulous paperwork, was assigned to record Galvan’s statements, coordinate them with the original robbery reports from various cities, and prepare the court briefs.

It soon became clear that the process of dealing with Galvan would be long and complex. To their surprise, it began rather abruptly on Monday, June 15.

Galvan readily confessed to robbing the two banks in London and Winnipeg. He figured that the police had solid evidence against him in these two holdups so there was little to lose by admitting his guilt. However, to Snider and Smith’s surprise, he also confessed to the three holdups at the Toronto Dominion Bank on George Street in Peterborough.

Smith, realizing that the Peterborough police had charged another man, Robert Sobel, with one of these robberies, called Peterborough to advise them of Galvan’s confession. They agreed to send a detective to Pembroke for confirmation.

In that same June 15 session Galvan also admitted to robbing the Montreal Trust and Birks Jewellers in Sudbury in 1985. To Smith and Snider, Galvan’s confessions to seven robberies in one day seemed like a most favourable beginning.

Then, near the end of the session, he made a curious comment to Snider. With fire in his eyes he said, “Your buddy, Angelo the Rat, is going to get it tonight.”

“Your buddy Angelo is going to get it tonight. Aren’t you going to do anything to save him?”

Snider assumed Galvan was referring to the person that Galvan believed had turned him in. Although George was concerned about Galvan’s threat, he had no idea whom he was talking about. He had never heard of an Angelo in the Ottawa underworld.

Snider didn’t react and went on with his paper work. He realized if he showed any interest in this Angelo or gave any indication that he knew what Galvan was talking about it would confirm Galvan’s suspicion that this was the man who, in fact, had turned Galvan in.

A few minutes later Galvan asked to use the washroom. As soon as he was led out of the room Snider called Heyerhoff in Ottawa and related the story of Galvan’s threat to him. Heyerhoff had never heard of an underworld Angelo either. He and OPP Corporal Bill Paterson started contacting their informants who might be able to help them locate the mysterious Angelo.

A “friendly” named Louie told them there was an ex-Ottawa Rough Rider named Angelo, a friend of Tommy Craig, who was a doorman at an Ottawa strip club.

Heyerhoff searched the club on the police computer and came up with the name of an Angelo Garlatti who Heyerhoff remembered as a local football player and a sometime professional player with the Ottawa Rough Riders. Garlatti was also listed in the computer as having been charged with assault. Taking Garlatti’s address from the computer, Heyerhoff and Paterson went out to visit him at his house.

When they arrived Garlatti was not pleased to see the police at his door. With his Rottweiler at his side he stood there glaring at them, naked to the waist, with sweat glistening off the bulging muscles of his mammoth torso.

“We think you might be in trouble,” Heyerhoff told him. “We think you should talk to us.”

“I don’t want to talk in the house,” Garlatti said. “Can we go out to your car?”

In the cruiser they explained to Garlatti that Robert Whiteman had been arrested for multiple counts of armed robbery. Heyerhoff told him, “They’re fingering you as the rat who turned him in. You’re in big-time trouble with Whiteman and Tommy. It looks like they want to do you in.”

As they explained the situation it was apparent that Garlatti was very worried. He shook his head repeatedly and, at one point, he started to tremble. Although Garlatti said little, he showed signs of knowing too much about Whiteman’s criminal activities. Heyerhoff began to suspect Garlatti might even be implicated with Galvan in some of the robberies. However, more than anything, Angelo seemed stunned that he was suspected of being a rat.

Heyerhoff and Paterson made it clear that they were there to help him. Garlatti thanked them and said he wanted to think everything over before he said any more.

“That’s fine,” said Heyerhoff, “but if you’ve got some place to go tonight, we suggest that you get your wife and get the hell out of here. They might be sending some people over right now.”

The police waited while Garlatti went into the house and told his wife about the situation. Once he explained it all to her, they packed their bags, grabbed the dog, and raced away to a relative’s house where Garlatti was sure they couldn’t be found.

The next day Snider and Heyerhoff had a five-hour meeting with Garlatti at a Kanata Hotel. They put the case against him in very simple terms.

“You’re caught in the middle,” Snider told him. “They think you’re a rat, and they want to kill you. If you don’t cooperate with us, we can’t help you.”

Garlatti decided to tell them everything he knew and gave them a blow-by-blow account of the aborted Vancouver Birks robbery. The police were particularly interested to hear of Gilbert Galvan’s phone call to Tommy Craig after the Vancouver holdup was terminated. It offered the possibility of being able to charge Tommy with conspiracy to commit armed robbery.

Two days later Heyerhoff and Paterson stood guard as Garlatti used a rental truck to move all his goods and furniture from his row house in south Ottawa to a secret destination in southern Ontario.

Garlatti’s sudden flight from the city provided the police with an inadvertent boon because it confirmed the suspicions of Galvan and Craig that Garlatti was indeed the rat who had turned Galvan in to the police. That took the heat off Pete Bond, who was not identified as the real rat until more than two years later.

In the meantime, Ed Arnold, the managing editor of the Peterborough Examiner, somehow found out that the OPP had a suspect in custody in Pembroke who had confessed to the Peterborough bank robberies. He also heard that the man in custody in Pembroke might prove to be a very big international story, possibly the Birks Bandit.

The OPP had tried to keep the news media unaware of the significance of Galvan’s arrest. Because they weren’t exactly sure how many robberies Galvan had committed, they didn’t want the media meddling in their investigation and interfering with their negotiations with Galvan. The police believed that making the escapades of Robert Whiteman/Gilbert Galvan a high profile news story would only blow things out of proportion and destroy the rapport that Smith and Snider were attempting to establish with him. The fewer people who knew about Galvan, the better.

When Arnold called the Pembroke OPP detachment and began asking Shawn Smith questions about the capture of Robert Whiteman, Smith was concerned.

“That’s not the issue, Detective Smith,” Arnold replied. “I understand this guy might be the Birks Bandit.”

“Oh,” Smith explained, “it’s far too early to say something like that. I wouldn’t say ... “

“Or he might be the biggest bank robber the country’s ever seen,” Arnold probed.

“Now, Mr. Arnold,” Smith continued, “I think you’re getting a bit carried away with this. As of right now, we don’t know exactly what he’s done. It’s going to take some time. When we find out, we’ll certainly let you know.”

“Mr. Arnold, we don’t want a story about this guy in the paper. Not yet. The publicity could hurt our investigation. I’m going to be honest with you. We think we’ve got something very important here but we’re just in the preliminary stages. We’re trying to bargain with him for a guilty plea and we’ve got a man who’s trying to weigh his options. A big story on him right now could blow things wide open. We need your cooperation on this.”

Ten minutes later, Lyle MacCharles was on the phone to Arnold. He went over much of the same ground as Smith had done. Arnold listened and didn’t argue. In the end, he asked the same question of MacCharles that he had put to Shawn Smith.

“If I agree not to write anything now, will your people keep me posted along the way?”

When Lyle MacCharles hung up the phone he was relieved. He knew they had averted a major fiasco by keeping Galvan’s exploits out of the papers.

Independent of Arnold’s telephone investigation, the Peterborough detective who visited Pembroke determined that Galvan, not Sobel, was guilty of the George Street robbery. Consequently, at Sobel’s preliminary hearing in Peterborough, the Crown Attorney dropped the bank robbery charge against him and he was set free.

Although Galvan was not immediately aware of the recent events involving either Angelo Garlatti or Ed Arnold, for some reason his confessions to Smith and Snider began to slow down. In an interrogation session on June 18, he admitted to robbing the Montreal Trust in Sudbury twice in 1986 and gave accurate, detailed statements to support his claim. But after these two admissions, Galvan abruptly stopped talking altogether. He became truculent and silent and would admit to nothing. He told Smith, Snider and MacCharles he would give no more statements until he was assured of the total sentence he would receive for his robberies. Now the real sparring match began.

Galvan was prepared to plead guilty to all the robberies he had committed in Canada provided he got a sentence no longer than fifteen years, with no recovery, no roll overs. No recovery meant he didn’t have to give back any of the cash or jewellery that he’d stolen. No roll overs meant he didn’t have to name any of his accomplices or the fence to whom he sold his goods. A fifteen-year sentence could make him eligible for parole in five years. He told Snider that in a Canadian jail, he could do that standing on his head.

The Crown Attorney in Pembroke wanted a much longer sentence imposed for Galvan’s one-man crime spree. Considering the number and severity of Galvan’s crimes, the Crown pushed for a sentence of thirty years.

MacCharles, Smith and Snider were concerned by the fact that Galvan and the Crown were such a long way apart. Because they were opposed to fighting a series of prolonged trials across the country they wanted Galvan to plead guilty to all of the armed robberies he had committed. In an attempt to get him to plead, Snider had to play both ends against the middle. He had to get the Crown to come down, and Galvan to come up.

MacCharles felt that twenty years was the right sentence. He was convinced that was all Galvan would get in other jurisdictions, especially in Ottawa where sentences were constantly inappropriately low.

Snider told the Crown: “You’ve got to come down or we’ll take the case to Ottawa. He’s done a lot of the robberies there, so it can be heard there.”

On the other side, Snider assured Galvan: “If you don’t agree to twenty years, we are quite prepared to take you all across the country from one shit house jail to another.”

Galvan remained adamant about receiving a maximum sentence of fifteen years. He insisted he would settle for nothing more. When Smith or Snider said they couldn’t do any better than twenty years, Galvan told them, “No fucking way. It’s fifteen years or nothing. If you don’t believe me, you can go fuel up the plane and we start flying all over the fucking country right now. And I’m serious!”

Snider was adamant about twenty years. He said to him, “I can tell you right now, they’re not going to sit still for a fifteen-year sentence, so if you’re going to hold out for that, we ARE going to be boarding a plane, a lot of planes to a lot of places. Shit, man, you’ll end up doing two years dead time in the county jails.”

“I don’t give a fuck. I’m telling you guys right now, I am not going to cop a plea for a twenty-year bit, and if you think I am, you’re dreaming. Now go and tell that to your fucking Crown counsel or whatever the fuck he’s called.”

The negotiations on his sentence dragged on for weeks. The Crown also balked at Galvan’s demand for no recovery. For a reduced sentence of twenty years they wanted to recover as much stolen property as they could.

MacCharles himself had trouble accepting twenty years for Galvan with no roll overs. He was hoping that Galvan would give up some of the other major players in Galvan’s game, notably Tommy Craig. If MacCharles could get Galvan to give them Craig, he was prepared to recommend the Crown reduce his sentence even further than twenty years.

Galvan wouldn’t budge on any of these issues. He was adamantly opposed to giving in on his demands for no recovery, no roll overs. Every time the detectives tried to talk to Galvan about these matters he threatened to terminate their discussions.

There was, however, one issue to which the two parties did agree. If Galvan could get the sentence he wanted with the Crown he was prepared to have all the charges from the various jurisdictions across Canada waived to the Pembroke Court. MacCharles was pleased about that possibility because it meant the police wouldn’t have to escort him to courts from Vancouver to Halifax.

He told his detectives, “I want to make sure we can clear all these charges in Pembroke. If we have to run him across this country from city to city, we’ll be the ones that get life.”

From Galvan’s perspective, he was happy to have everything heard in Pembroke. It would allow him to remain near Janice and his daughter and the few friends he had in Canada, like Tommy Craig and Pete Bond. Also, by staying in Pembroke he would be close at hand for the birth of his second child which was due to occur in early October. Moreover, he wouldn’t have to put up with the demeaning experience of being flown across the country in shackles and handcuffs only to be locked up in a series of county buckets that were, by reputation, the oldest, most decrepit prisons in the land. What was worse, once he got there, he wouldn’t know a soul in those communities. He’d have no visitors, few telephone privileges and little contact with the outside world. The dank old Pembroke Jail was bad enough but at least here he had a few loved ones nearby who came to visit him regularly.

Janice came almost every day. During their visits they began to renew their relationship that had been so badly damaged. Although they were separated by glass in the visiting room and could not touch each other, their meetings took on an intimacy they had long since lost. They were getting to know each other all over again.

Occasionally, the police would let Janice visit with Galvan at the detachment building. This was much more comfortable for both of them. Smith and Snider would clear an office and let them visit privately with a heavy police guard outside the doors and windows. Sometimes Janice would bring Laura with her to the OPP station and Galvan would spend much of his time hugging and kissing his little girl. Snider told MacCharles, “It would break your heart to see him with his kid.”

Tommy Craig and Pete Bond came to visit Gilbert at the jail every week. Each time they came into Pembroke a police cruiser would pick up Craig’s Chrysler 5th Avenue at the turnoff from Highway 17 and informally escort them into town. The police would also provide a return escort out of town when the Fat Man and his side-kick left the city.

When Galvan was arrested, Tommy had deposited $500 in his canteen fund at the jail. After that initial contribution Craig made intermittent donations so that Galvan could afford to buy some goodies from the canteen. Tommy wanted to be good to “Robert” because if Galvan ever decided to roll, Tommy knew he was going to jail too.

After prolonged sentencing negotiations a deal was finally hammered out whereby Galvan would plead guilty to all the robberies for which he was responsible in exchange for a sentence of twenty years. Galvan wasn’t thrilled about the deal but he had slowly come to realize it was the best he was going to get.

The more he thought about the twenty-year sentence, it didn’t seem too bad. In all likelihood he’d be out in under seven years. He calculated that such a sentence would cost him about six weeks for every robbery he’d done in Canada. In the United States, they would have put him away for life.

Once the deal was finalized Galvan began, once again, to provide details of the specific robberies he had committed. Each holdup required a full statement of particulars. Snider asked most of the questions while Smith recorded Galvan’s answers.

Galvan was clever; he never gave them too much at once. He knew that as long as he possessed information they wanted, they would probably give in to a few of his demands. He would admit to a few robberies then stop with a promise that there was more to come. While the police waited, he bartered for little favours – a few packages of cigarettes, some good coffee, a phone call to Janice. It wasn’t so much that he needed those concessions, it was more that he needed to feel that he was dictating the terms. He always tried to be in control of the situation; no progress could take place unless he wanted it to.

Sometimes he would give up a little information then demand something significant in return, like a drink of Crown Royal or a private visit with his wife in the detachment office. On a few occasions he asked that special food be delivered to the detachment office. One time, at his insistence, they let him call Wally’s to order a pizza.

“Yeah, I’m in jail,” Galvan advised, “but you got to eat in jail too, you know.”

“Sure we do,” Danny replied, “I just can’t believe it, that you can get a pizza in jail. Are they paying for it?”

“I’m just kidding,” Galvan said, “They’ll pay for it all when the driver gets here.”

Danny was amazed by Robert’s chutzpah but when he got off the phone and told the waitresses about Robert Whiteman ordering a pizza from jail, somehow they weren’t surprised.

Galvan’s ability to recall the details of his robberies was phenomenal. Usually, without prompting, he was able to remember the exact amount of money stolen from each institution. In every case he could recall when he came to the particular city, how he got there, where he stayed, what he ate and drank the night before, what he wore as a disguise, and the details of the robbery. In accordance with the statement format, at the end of each confession, Smith would ask him: “Have you been promised anything to give this statement?”

Galvan would invariably reply: “Yes, that I will be given the opportunity to waive this charge to Pembroke.” Oddly enough Galvan always signed the statement as Robert Whiteman and initialed it with an R.W.

During the interrogation sessions Galvan exhibited severe mood swings. One moment he could be jovial and engaging, and then suddenly he would turn morose and miserable. At those times he would often shut down and refuse to communicate. Although the detectives found it hard to predict his behaviour they suspected he became most difficult when he focused on himself and his depressing situation. To keep Galvan’s focus external, Snider and Smith had to keep him entertained.

Pretending they didn’t get along, Smith and Snider would stage arguments in front of Galvan that had nothing to do with the interrogation. Smith would accuse Snider of leaving his office a mess and tell him he was really tired of his slovenly clerical habits. Snider would counter with negative comments about some of Smith’s personal shortcomings.

Sometimes they argued over Galvan’s demands. Shawn Smith, as the good guy, would pretend he wanted to give in to Galvan’s requests; George Snider, as the bad guy, would balk at Smith’s generosity and refuse to give Galvan what he wanted. Usually Snider would blame his refusal on Inspector MacCharles. He’d say, “I’d like to do that for you Gilbert, but our boss would never go for that. We can’t do it. Sorry, it’s out of the question.”

One day, in an attempt to keep the mood upbeat, Smith and Snider set up a scenario where Shawn would let Galvan handle an empty revolver while Snider was out of the room. Galvan had always had a fascination with guns and enjoyed handling the gun and spinning its cylinder around. When Snider walked into the room, Galvan had the gun pointed to Smith’s head. Snider had to do some serious acting to plead with Galvan: “Jesus, Gilbert, take it easy! Don’t do anything stupid and no one will get hurt here.” Snider had to maintain his feigned alarm until Smith and Galvan started to laugh out loud and Galvan showed Snider that the gun was empty.

Another time, Smith and Snider wanted to see what Galvan would do if they gave him the opportunity to escape from the detachment building. They set up some guards around the building and then left Galvan alone and uncuffed in Smith’s office. When the two detectives walked out of the room, Galvan couldn’t believe it. The office door was open and nobody seemed to be around. Galvan snuck out of the office and darted into the room next door. He looked around in desperation for a way out of the building. He couldn’t go back out in the hallway because it was bustling with OPP. When Galvan heard Smith and Snider coming down the hall he jumped into a closet in the room. Moments later Snider found him huddling sheepishly among some coats. All three of them had a laugh over that.

Galvan said, “What the hell did you think I was going to do when you left, sit there and twiddle my thumbs?”

Galvan got his turn to have fun too. On one occasion when an RCMP officer was questioning him in Snider’s presence Galvan agreed to give him the name of the bandit who had shot the Brinks guard in Quebec if the Mountie did Galvan a little favour. The Mountie agreed to Galvan’s terms and Galvan wrote a name on a piece of paper and slipped it to him. When the Mountie opened the note, it read: “Jesse James.” In the spirit that was intended, the Mountie showed the paper to Snider and the three of them had a good laugh. Galvan laughed hardest of all.

In July Galvan told the police that he had rented a houseboat last February and had thrown some of the stolen jewels into the Ottawa River. He claimed he had packed the jewels in a thermos bottle, weighed it down with two C-clamps and dropped the thermos into the water. Galvan assured them he could take them to the very spot which was located in forty feet of water near Oiseau Rock not far from Pembroke. The first thing the police did to verify his story was to check his Visa account to see if he had rented the houseboat. When that proved to be accurate, they checked with Garmac Houseboat Rentals to confirm that he had gone out on the water in February. When this too proved to be the case, they asked Galvan to take a lie detector test. He agreed.

Galvan after his sentencing in Pembroke, 1988

(Peterborough Examiner)

Sgt. Bill Blake of the Ottawa city police administered the polygraph test. After working with him for three hours Blake was convinced that Galvan had put the jewels in the water. Blake told Snider, “If you’re asking me did he put something in the river, I would say yes. Based on his physiological reaction, he is telling the truth when he says he put those jewels there.”

The OPP rented a houseboat and went out on the Ottawa River looking for the jewels. Mel Robertson was brought in from Nepean to join another OPP diver in a two-day search along the river bottom. Galvan, on board in handcuffs and anklecuffs, led them to the diving area by repeating his original locating procedure. He tied two long ropes to two anchors positioned at two specific spots on the shore. Running the lines out to the houseboat, he crossed them at precisely forty-five feet each. He claimed that this was how he had determined the position where the thermos had been originally dropped. The police searched the area for two days but found nothing.

In retrospect, Sgt. Blake told Snider that it was possible that Galvan was telling the truth about the location of the jewels, but there was nothing to say that someone hadn’t come along and retrieved them in the interim. Blake’s polygraph test had not addressed that possibility.

In fact, the whole exercise was an escape attempt. Originally Galvan asked to be allowed to dive with the OPP divers. With his scuba diving experience, he planned to go down into the murky water and disappear. But his plans were foiled when Snider refused to let him take off his cuffs and wouldn’t let him get into the water.

In August, after the twenty-year sentencing deal, Galvan really began to open up. On the first of the month, he gave them the details of three robberies: Calgary in 1984, London in 1985 and Toronto in 1986. Two weeks later he gave them ten more robberies plus the details on the holdup at Alyea’s Jewellers in Ottawa in 1986.

Then on Tuesday, August 18, Galvan appeared before Judge C.R. Merredew in Pembroke Court. The TRU team from Belleville were in the courtroom for security. MacCharles, Snider and Smith were in attendance. Tommy Craig and Pete Bond sat together in the rear. Janice was not there. In the morning session, Galvan’s lawyer, Scott Milloy, requested that a psychiatric assessment be done on his client. The judge agreed and court was adjourned.

Galvan had been hoping the court would send him to a medium security hospital where his chances of escaping would be good. However, when Galvan heard during the adjournment, that the Crown was suggesting he be sent to the dreaded maximum security mental institution at Penetanguishene, he changed his mind and refused to be assessed.

When court reconvened, Galvan pleaded guilty to the London and Winnipeg bank robberies. Before passing sentence Judge Merredew addressed Galvan: “What need be said other than the fact that you were quite obviously a brazen, cool, professional armed robber, carrying with you all the necessary tools of that particular trade, including, incredibly, a fake Canadian passport and professional disguise devices.”

For the two holdups, the use of a gun and the use of a disguise, the thirty-year-old Galvan was sentenced to eleven years in the penitentiary. This sentence had been prearranged by the Crown to hold Galvan in custody until all his crimes had been documented and cleared. Then, when he pleaded guilty to those crimes, the twenty-year sentence would be rendered to run concurrently with this sentence. After his court appearance, Galvan was returned to Pembroke for further interrogation.

Galvan used the entire Tuesday of August 25 to relate and explain the particulars of his million-dollar robbery of Birks Jewellers in Vancouver. Two days later, he gave Smith and Snider the particulars on eleven other robberies including all of his remaining jewellery store heists.

By now Galvan was phoning Tommy Craig three or four times a week, asking him to run errands or deliver certain items to the jail. Sometimes when Galvan returned to his county jail cell from the detachment office he seemed to be drunk. When Snider heard about this, he thought Galvan must be putting on a show for the guards, possibly with the intention of invalidating his inculpatory statements. It was either that, or quantities of rye were being smuggled into him as apple juice.

One special deal that Galvan arranged for himself was an overnight conjugal visit with Janice in the detachment office. When Galvan pleaded for the visit MacCharles authorized it. He felt that the way things were going with Galvan’s confessions, the taxpayers were being saved a fortune, and bending the rules a little to keep the confessions coming was a small price to pay and a very wise investment.

“I don’t give a shit what anybody says about it,” MacCharles told Snider, “we’re going to do this my way and get the job done. Find them a mattress and make them a bedroom.”

Janice was allowed into the detachment office at night after the last officer went home. Smith’s office was cleared out and suitably furnished. Smith, Snider and MacCharles kept guard on the love nest throughout the night. Galvan was left alone with his wife until six the next morning. Then she was whisked out of the building before the day shift began to report.

MacCharles could see that his brand of pragmatic compromise was paying big dividends with Galvan. By the end of August Galvan had confessed to forty-two robberies and given inculpatory statements for each of those confessions.

Still, his temperament was unpredictable. Some days he was sullen and curt; other days he could make Shawn Smith split his sides with laughter. With all his demands and petulance, Gilbert Galvan was blessed with a keen sense of humour. And he was a good mimic. During one session he did a take-off on a Quebec Air pilot who had flown him to Quebec City. Speaking English with a heavy French accent, Galvan got Smith laughing so hard he couldn’t write.

Above all, Galvan loved to brag about his accomplishments and impress the detectives with his feats.

“Well,” Snider said, “in checking out your credit card purchases, it’s amazing that everywhere you flew, there was a bank robbery the next day.”

“I couldn’t even afford a credit card for the first eighteen months I was in Canada.”

“Yeah, but by my last year I had an En Route card,” Galvan boasted. “You know you’ve made it big in the criminal world when you got yourself an En Route card.”

By September 3, Galvan had given them the details on each and every one of his fifty-nine robberies. The statistics were unbelievable:

The paperwork for the case was a nightmare. Shawn Smith had to write up all of Galvan’s statements and match them to the various robbery reports. He was responsible for correspondence with all the police forces including the RCMP, FBI and Interpol. He had to send reports out to all the jurisdictions for every robbery and request that the Crown waive each charge for prosecution to the Pembroke Court. They all had to agree to the twenty-year sentence proposed for Galvan. Many of the Crowns took weeks to clear things at their end and reply.

Some of the paperwork on the robberies was difficult to locate. One jurisdiction mistakenly reported that no such robbery had taken place in their city. This was later corrected when it was learned that the branch had been closed and the building torn down. Some of the bank branches had moved. Many of the investigating officers had been transferred or retired.

After Galvan gave his last statement it took Smith over seven months to gather everything together. The accumulated files on the Galvan case were over two feet thick.

On September 29, after Galvan’s interviews were concluded, he was shipped to Millhaven Penitentiary, Ontario’s maximum security prison near Kingston. In some ways Galvan was glad to go. There were advantages to being in a federal prison. He would have greater freedom of movement, regular access to a phone, more liberal visiting privileges, and better opportunities for work, recreation and education.

His only reservation about leaving Pembroke was that his wife was due to have her baby soon. Three days after his arrival at Millhaven his second daughter was born. He would not get to see her for weeks until Janice brought the baby to Millhaven for a visit.

The final act of Galvan’s sad drama took place on March 18, 1988, in the Pembroke Court before Judge Merredew. Sitting in the glassedin prisoner’s box and flanked by two uniformed members of the OPP, Galvan listened as the Crown meticulously filed all the charges against him.

Galvan was represented by Gary Chakos, a lawyer supplied through the Ontario Legal Aid Plan. The Crown, as in his previous sentencing, was Peter Barnes. Two heavily armed members of the OPP TRU team stood guard at the rear of the courtroom. Sitting just in front of the TRU team were Tommy Craig and Pete Bond. Directly in front of them sat Shawn Smith, George Snider and Lyle MacCharles.

Jack McKay, head of OPP public relations, was also in attendance as was Ed Arnold from the Peterborough Examiner. With the exception of Arnold, the OPP had been successful in keeping the Galvan case away from the media. Two local reporters, unaware of the magnitude of the Galvan case, sat languidly in their seats beside Arnold. A class of fidgeting students on a field trip from a local school filled one section of the room.

Janice McKenzie wasn’t there. She had been advised to stay away because the attendant publicity might cause her too much distress. This wasn’t going to be one of Galvan’s finest moments; he didn’t want her to be there anyway.

When Galvan entered the court room he was joking and laughing with his custodians. At one point he turned and smiled at Craig and Bond and mouthed some words to them.

There was some anxiety among the OPP detectives in attendance because they still weren’t positive that Gilbert Galvan was going to keep his word and plead guilty. MacCharles’ tension disappeared when he heard Galvan say “guilty” to the first charge that was read to him. After that, the burly inspector got up and left the courtroom.

It took hours for all the evidence to be read into the record. At the conclusion of each statement, Galvan repeated his guilty plea. Occasionally his lawyer would interrupt the proceedings to point out certain factors in his client’s favour. He made it clear that at no time did Galvan implicate anyone else in his crimes. He took pains to underscore the fact that all of the jewellery had been fenced in the United States.

When Chakos made this claim to the court George Snider turned his head to the Fat Man sitting behind him and whispered, “That’s bullshit, Tommy. We know it was you who fenced all the jewellery.”

Galvan’s lawyer also pointed out that without Galvan’s guilty pleas these cases would not have been solved. Without his guilty pleas it would have cost the Canadian public a tremendous amount of money in court costs and labour.

There were two other significant issues that defense counsel Chakos wanted the court to acknowledge on Galvan’s behalf. For the record, Chakos made it clear: “Mr. Galvan has, in this case, then, not pleaded guilty where there was an overwhelming case (against him) ... What he has done is confessed. He’s provided the officers with details, and says he’s committed them ...”

Later Chakos added, “A further submission must be taken in account and which detracts somewhat or mitigates somehow in these circumstances, is that on no occasion was anyone ever injured. And while firearms were brandished and pointed, and threats were made, at no point was a gun ever discharged ...”

After six hours the proceedings drew to a close when the judge pronounced his sentence. Although Galvan was well aware he would be sent away for twenty years, it still jarred him when he heard his sentence spoken out loud. He tried to keep his composure but he was badly shaken. As soon as he was removed to the holding cell to await his return to Millhaven, he lit a cigarette and took a long, deep drag.

The first person to visit him after his court case was Ed Arnold from the Examiner. Galvan seemed more than willing to talk to him. The two discussed the possibility of a book. Galvan seemed to be interested.

Down the corridor from the courtroom Lyle MacCharles was on the phone to his supervisor at OPP Headquarters in Toronto. He reported that everything had gone smoothly.

While he was talking on the phone, George Snider and Shawn Smith were saying goodbye on the courthouse steps, an OPP cruiser was following Tommy Craig and Pete Bond out of town, and Gilbert Galvan was on his way back to Millhaven.

CHAPTER 17

Negotiations