The Flying Bandit Read online

  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.

  “God, that’s beautiful,” he said to Robert.

  “What’s beautiful?” Robert replied.

  “That bird in the showcase over there.”

  “You like birds?” Robert asked.

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

  “Yeah.”

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

  “Really!” Robert was impressed.

  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.

  “Where you goin’?” Tommy asked.

  “Ah, I got a little business to take care of. I’ll be right back.”

  Fifteen minutes later Robert returned to the bar.

  “You want a drink?” Tommy offered.

  “No. We better get going.”

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

  “I’m telling you we got to go. Now.”

  “Why, for Christ sakes?”

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

  “You bastard.” Tommy said, “You didn’t!”

  “Yeah, I did. We got to go.”

  “You crazy bastard. What the fuck is wrong with you?”r />
  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?”

  “Business,” Robert replied.

  “Have you been to Newfoundland before?”

  “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.”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Robert answered. “So what’s your point?”

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

  “Well, you’re not paying for it. I am.”

  “Can you cover a $23,000 loan?” she asked.

  “Yeah. And if I can’t, Tommy will help me.”

  “Well then, why don’t you put it in Tommy’s name?”

  “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.

  “You should be careful who sees you with all that money,” she told him.

  “Ah, don’t worry, Linda, I can take care of myself.”

  “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?”

  “I think you know this guy,” Tommy insisted.

  Linda wondered what he was getting at.

  “I don’t know him, Tommy. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

  “Take another look ... a real close look,” Tom said.

  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.

  “Oh, my God, it’s Robert!” she said.

  A roar of laughter went up from Tommy’s friends in the corner.

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

  Linda was astounded.

  “God, did you have me fooled,” she confessed.

  “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 h
e 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.