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  Another detective invited to those monthly B & E meetings was Mel Robertson from Nepean. Mel was a gentle, quiet man who had the studious look of Sherlock Holmes. He had been in the Nepean Police Service for twelve years and had rapidly risen to the rank of detective sergeant. Bright, intense and thorough, he knew the Criminal Code like the back of his hand. Like Heyerhoff and Snider, he loved his job and had a great enthusiasm for doing it well.

  When Snider and Heyerhoff and Robertson first began to come together at their monthly meetings they had no idea they were about to embark on a project that would entwine them closely for over a year.

  Mel appeared to be the most conservative of the three. Being a sergeant, he usually wore a suit and tie while the other two dressed casually in street clothes, jeans and golf shirts. Heyerhoff, like Snider, preferred not shaving. He always either had a full beard or a moustache, sometimes both. Robertson was always clean shaven except for a neatly trimmed military-type moustache.

  Of the three, Mel appeared to be the most serious, the least boisterous. He had a nice sense of humour and enjoyed a good laugh but was never as uproarious as the other two. Robertson was a detail man, a good administrator, an organizer, a researcher. He had the patience to wade into mounds of records and paperwork. He enjoyed analyzing it and synthesizing it to make it meaningful.

  In contrast to Snider and Heyerhoff, Mel tended to think more before he talked and, when he said something, he spoke quietly with carefully chosen words. As serious as Snider and Heyerhoff were about their work, they were more inclined to look for an opportunity to make a joke or get off a smart remark. Mel was comfortable in their company and enjoyed their clever repartee but he seldom entered the battle of wits. There was no sense trying. Once George and Ralph got rolling it was hard to get a word in anyway. Mel saved his intellectual acumen and pointed remarks for the business that took place at the meeting table.

  All three policemen were married with young families. George and his wife had a ten-year-old son and a seven-year-old daughter. Mel, thirty-three, and his wife had one son who was four and another, a newborn. Ralph, the youngest of the trio, had been married only three years. He and his wife had two infant sons.

  The three men had a wide divergence of interests. Robertson was a qualified scuba diver and an avid outdoors man. He did a lot of fishing, boating and snowmobiling. A regular Mister Fixit, he read a lot of technical journals and did most of his own automotive repairs and home maintenance. As busy as he was at home and on the job, he always tried to make time for his family.

  George liked to stay physically active. He was a runner and jogged three times a week. Until recently, he had played hockey three or four nights every week through the winter until he reduced his playing nights to spend a lot of his free time taking his son, John, to the rink. Other than that, George didn’t have a lot of time at home. His job had taken over much of his life and created an unfortunate imbalance that would ultimately impinge on his marriage.

  Although Ralph was the most accomplished team athlete of the three, his active participation in sports had dwindled to watching television from the sofa. Now, the most exercise he got from athletics was getting up to change the channel or taking a long walk to the fridge to forage for food. When George chided him about getting in shape, Ralph would assure him of his intention to start working out.

  “George,” he’d say, “I’d like to think of my body as a large reserve for future muscle.”

  But it didn’t happen. The only thing that got Ralph off the couch was an interesting phone call from an informant or a frantic cry from his wife for some help with their two babies.

  As different as the three detectives were on the surface they made an effective team because they were united in their common goal of reducing the break-ins in the Ottawa area. They wanted to do something about Tommy Craig and Pete Bond and all the other fences and thieves in the Ottawa region. They thought they knew every criminal in the capital region but they had never even heard of Robert Whiteman.

  For now, unaware of what lay ahead, they continued to work independently in their own jurisdictions, meeting once a month to share their expertise and knowledge on matters pertaining to break-ins in the area.

  CHAPTER 10

  The Rough Rider

  As the new year rolled in, Robert couldn’t get the Vancouver Birks store out of his mind. He was determined to go back there and hold it up. But before he did that, he knew he needed better information on the layout of the place. This would be his biggest robbery and he didn’t want any mistakes.

  On January 3 he flew out to Vancouver to case the Birks store one more time. As he walked in, a Birks employee came up to him and asked, “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, you can,” he said. “I need a new battery for my watch.”

  “That would be downstairs, sir. The escalator is over there.”

  Robert was surprised. When he was here before with Tommy he hadn’t realized the place had a lower level.

  “Thank you,” he said and went directly down the escalator. Once he got downstairs he could see the solutions to his problems. The lower level led right into the Pacific Centre Mall. One of the exits was only thirty feet from a door that opened to the underground parking lot. Now Robert was sure he could do the job. He was still going to need an accomplice to cope with the store’s security but he felt much more confident about the layout of the premises. As he flew home he had the feeling that his membership in the million dollar club was now within his reach.

  In Ottawa his relationship with Janice was worse than ever. The two of them fought constantly over the same old issues. Not only was she unhappy about him going out every night drinking, she was fed up with him hanging around the Playmate Club.

  “That place is grotesque,” she complained.

  “I happen to like it.”

  “It’s a dingy shit house. What’s there to like?”

  “That’s my business.”

  “If we’re living together, it’s also my business.”

  “Why is it any of your fucking business?”

  “Because while you’re drinking yourself stupid every night, I’m busting my ass working shifts.”

  “I work too. I take care of my end. What the fuck are you bitching about?”

  “You’re never home! Is it so horrible around here, you can’t spend one goddamn night a week away from those assholes?”

  On and on it would go. Janice’s temper and her tantrums became legendary among the crew at the Playmate.

  Robert would say, “I got to get going, or else.”

  “Or else what?” they would ask.

  “Or else I feel the wrrrrrath of Janice.” Robert pronounced the word like a growling mastiff.

  They would all nod their heads.

  Her wrath didn’t stop Robert from going about his jewellery business. On January 16 he flew to Winnipeg. He had cased the Birks store on Portage Avenue on a previous trip west and knew exactly what he wanted to steal. The next day at 5:30 p.m., he walked into the store and was attended at the estate counter by Gladys Okabe. Robert asked to see a marquis ring that was on display. Gladys took it out of the counter and showed it to him.

  “It was originally priced at $45,000,” she said, “but it’s been marked down to $39,000.”

  “Why has it been marked down?” Robert asked.

  Gladys explained that the owner wanted a quick sale and was prepared to take a loss to get the ring sold.

  Robert then said, “Look down here.”

  Gladys didn’t understand what he meant and Robert repeated it more forcefully, “I said look down here.”

  Gladys looked down and saw he was pushing up the butt of a gun from his overcoat pocket so she could get a good look at it. Robert handed her a small plastic bag and the ring.

  “Put the ring in the bag,” he said.

  Gladys was having trouble opening the bag and he said, “The other end.” He was calm and gentle.

  After she put the r
ing in the bag, Robert pointed to specific pieces of jewellery in the showcase and told her to put those in the bag as well.

  As Gladys was doing this, a young couple approached the estate counter where Robert was standing.

  “Stop,” Robert said to the saleswoman. “Put the bag behind the counter door.”

  As the couple got closer, he said, “Give me the bag.”

  Gladys gave it to him and Robert left the counter and began walking out of the store. As he was leaving, Gladys turned to one of her fellow employees, Tim Dutchyszen, and whispered, “I’ve just been robbed.” She pointed to Robert leaving the store.

  Dutchyszen followed Robert, and as he was opening the Smith Street door, Tim yelled, “Hey you, stop!”

  Robert wheeled around and pulled the gun from his overcoat pocket. He pointed it at Tim and shouted, “Freeze.”

  Tim dove to the floor and covered his head. Robert said, “Now stay there.” Seeing the clerk comply, Robert went out the door and crossed the street where he disappeared into the parking garage of the Delta Hotel. Within minutes his disguise was gone and he was safely in his room in the Westin Hotel only blocks away. The Winnipeg police responded immediately to the Birks alarm and took statements from all the pertinent witnesses. They sent out a Canadian Police Information Centre (CPIC) communication of the holdup particulars to other police departments across the country. In their communique they mentioned the similarities between the thief’s method of operation in the Winnipeg Birks jewellery robbery and the technique that had been used in the Sudbury Birks store in September 1985. Part of their report read as follows:

  “IT IS KNOWN THAT AT 12:40, 85 O9 25 AT THE BIRK’S JEWELLERS IN SUDBURY, ONTARIO, A MALE OF SIMILAR DESCRIPTION, USED EXACTLY THE SAME METHOD TO OBTAIN EXACTLY THE SAME NUMBER OF PIECES (40). IN THAT ONE HE ALSO SELECTED THE PIECES HE WANTED, HAVING THE CLERK PLACE THEM IN A BAG.”

  When Robert got home he was elated to discover that the retail value of the stolen items was $200,000. Within a day he sold the merchandise to his fence for $30,000. The fence dismantled the jewellery and had the stones sold within forty-eight hours.

  This was a very high time for Robert. Besides receiving this welcome influx of ready cash, Janice told him she was pregnant again. Robert was absolutely delighted at her news and responded by offering his weary wife another one week holiday in the Bahamas. Janice gratefully accepted.

  On February 2 they flew to Freeport. This time they managed to have a pleasant and peaceful vacation. Janice was happy winning some money at the slot machines and Robert managed to hold his own in the high stakes card games. Janice’s only real concern about her husband was his alcohol intake. Because she was with him night and day for a week she couldn’t help noticing how much he was drinking and how little effect it had on him. His capacity was unbelievable.

  After their return from the beautiful Bahamas, Robert had one of the strangest experiences of his criminal life. He had been looking for an accomplice to help him do the Big Vancouver. The one he chose was a huge, tough bruiser of a man who was a bouncer in some of the local strip clubs. Angelo Garlatti (not his real name) had worked mostly in downtown Ottawa but lately had taken to hanging around the Playmate.

  Garlatti was an ex-Ottawa Rough Rider who was down on his luck. At 6’ 1” and 270 pounds, Angelo had played professional football for a number of years. A Canadian from the Ottawa area, he enjoyed great initial success with the Riders. During his first season with the team he was a starter until he injured his knee late in the year. The Riders ended that season with a dismal win-loss record and the head coach was replaced.

  The next season, Garlatti, a brash and outspoken young man, and the new coach, a demanding, old-school type, didn’t see eye to eye. The coach fined Ang for a rule violation in training camp and then relegated him to the bench once the season began. When the Riders continued their losing ways, the failing new coach became more and more punitive with the players. The day after a particularly embarrassing defeat he came out on the practice field and drew the team around him. He tore into them for their lackadaisical play, and, at the end of his blistering remarks announced, “So for today gentlemen, fuck practice, we’re going to do nothing but run.”

  That did it for Garlatti. He walked off the field and out of professional football. It was an expensive stroll. Angelo was to be paid $42,000 for the season. Now he suddenly had to find himself another job. Since he was well known in the Ottawa bars, he had no trouble getting work in a number of the local strip clubs. Angelo was thick limbed with heavy shoulders, huge biceps and forearms, and, like Tommy Craig and Pete Bond, was good with his fists. He also had a mean streak in him and seemed to carry a chip on his shoulder. He would wade into any problem that arose and would fight at the drop of a hat.

  But Garlatti soon tired of making the petty income of a club bouncer. Working in the bars, Ang made the acquaintance of Linda Craig. She introduced him to her husband, Tommy and Ang began hanging around the Playmate. Tommy wasn’t really impressed with Angelo. He didn’t like the way Garlatti swaggered around, bragging about his exploits as a big-time football player and crowing about all the women that adored him. Still, when Angelo came to Tommy looking for a way to make some extra money, Tommy let him do some buying and selling with the B & E guys in the Playmate Club. Tommy needed the help. He already had enough action on his plate and Pete Bond didn’t have time either. He was busy making big-time money with contraband alcohol and cigarettes.

  As a buyer, Ang soon found out he had to carry a wad of $750 on him at all times. The B & E artists who came in to sell him merchandise wanted their money right away. Almost all of them were on cocaine, and when they needed their nose candy, they became shaky, irritable, and paranoid.

  Angelo was a bright guy, a university graduate who wasn’t really enamoured with the type of people that hung around the Playmate Club. He was, however, impressed with Robert. Ang found him friendly, well dressed, and clean cut. He also saw that Robert carried a huge wad of money. As they got to know each other better, Angelo was convinced that Robert’s roll of cash meant he was into something illegal. Ang wanted to get in on it; he was tired of making small change with B & E thieves.

  “I want to make some serious money,” he said to Robert. “I’m sick of this nickle and dime stuff.”

  Robert fixed his eyes on him and said, “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know you’ll be breaking the law,” Robert told him.

  “That’s fine, as long as I don’t have to kill anybody.”

  They studied each other intently for a moment.

  “Oh, you won’t have to kill anybody,” Robert said. Then he added, “Leave it with me. I’ve got to talk to some people. I’ll get back to you.”

  Robert went to see Tommy about Angelo.

  “I’m looking for some help with the Big Vancouver job, you think he’ll be all right?” Robert asked.

  “I don’t know. He’s hungry enough,” Tommy said. “His fucking size alone will scare the shit out of people.”

  “Yeah, but he’s got to handle a gun,” Robert said.

  “He can do that. He’s got a mean fucking attitude, Robert, but he’s smart. He’s not going to be shooting the fucking thing off for no reason.”

  “You think he’ll be OK?”

  Tommy shrugged his shoulders.

  “You won’t know until you try him.”

  The next time Robert met with Angelo he told him to pack his bags for a five-day trip. They were flying to Vancouver on Monday, February 17. Robert would make all the arrangements and cover all the expenses. Robert gave him a 9mm Luger pistol.

  “Wrap this in a face cloth and put it in your shaving kit.”

  Angelo questioned him with his eyes.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Robert said. “They don’t X-ray suitcases on domestic flights. I’m packing my gun the same way.”

  “Whatever you say,” Angelo replied.

  All through the fligh
t to Vancouver both of them drank as much as they could. Although Ang had no specific idea about what they were going to do, he was still frightened. To ease his anxiety he mixed his rye with valium. By the time they reached Vancouver, both of them were incoherent and barely able to walk off the plane.

  Robert hired a limousine to take them downtown from the airport. He insisted on a Mercedes. On the way to their hotel, Angelo, through his alcoholic haze, tried to think about what he was doing. He was sure they were going to rob someone but he didn’t know whom. He thought it might be a drug dealer, but Robert wouldn’t say and made it clear he didn’t want to be asked. When they got to the hotel, it was late. They turned in in separate rooms, and that night, both of them slept like new-born babies.

  The next day Robert took Angelo for a very close haircut. “You’re going to be wearing a wig,” he explained.

  After their visit to the barber they took a cab to a theatre store and bought Ang a wig for $300. From there they went to a men’s store and Robert bought each of them an expensive suit, a long coat, and a shirt and tie. Angelo still had no idea what they were robbing, until their cab pulled up in front of Birks.

  Robert walked him through the store and explained the plan as they went. He pointed out the significant features of the store: where they would come in, where they would go out, the location of the estate counter.

  Angelo was to do all the talking to the clerk. Robert would cover him and take care of the store security. He coached Angelo on what to say: “This is a holdup. Pull all the jewellery out of the case and give it to me.”

  Robert told him, “If she doesn’t cooperate, hurdle the counter. Put everything in your pockets.”

  They stopped at the estate counter. Robert pointed out a $60,000 necklace in the case and told Angelo to ask to see that first.

  “Get it in your hands. No matter what happens after that, that’s the first piece you put in your pocket. That piece alone makes the trip worthwhile. You got it?”