The Flying Bandit Page 8

  From there he went to his room, used the toilet and counted his money. This time he got over $8,000. He was very pleased. He stuffed the money into his pockets and went down to the hotel’s main dining room to celebrate with a few drinks of rye and a thick juicy steak. When dinner was finished he sat smoking one cigarette after another, listening to the hotel employees talk about the big bank robbery that had taken place that afternoon.

  There was a major train station near the Hotel Halifax and, on a whim, Robert decided to take the train home to Ottawa. He had plenty of cash, lots of time, and needed to unwind. No better way to see the country than by taking the train. This was the only time in his career that he chose the train over air travel. It was a mistake he would never make again.

  Robert paid for a luxurious bedroom suite that contained its own washroom facility. As soon as he got settled in his compartment he headed for the bar car to have a few drinks and some friendly conversation. As the train rolled through the wooded countryside Robert sat and chatted with anyone who ventured near. He was having such a wonderful time that before he knew it, it was dark out. Around 11:00 p.m. the bar steward came over to him and said, “This is last call sir. Would you like another drink?”

  Robert was surprised.

  “Why are you closing up so early?”

  “We’re just closing down until we get through U.S. Customs.”

  It took a few seconds for the bartender’s words to sink in. What did he mean, U.S. Customs? Had he boarded the wrong train?

  “Hey, I want to go to Montreal. That’s not in the U.S. Why are we going through U.S. Customs?”

  “We have to. You see, sir, to save time, we cut through a part of Maine. Because of regulations, the train has to stop and let the U.S. Immigration and Customs come on board to check the passengers out. It’s not a problem, they just want to see a birth certificate or some form of identification.”

  Robert felt as if he was going to throw up. A birth certificate! He had no birth certificate. The identification he did have was flimsy at best.

  Jesus! he thought. Here I am, a wanted fugitive, trapped on a train in the United States of America with $8,000.00 in stolen money, a wig, a phoney moustache, and a loaded gun. My worst nightmare is coming true.

  Out loud he said, “Jesus!” Two of the people in the bar car turned and stared at him. Robert smiled at them as if to excuse himself.

  When he got up and left the car, he appeared to be under control. Inside he was shaking worse than he did when he held up a bank. One stupid mistake and his whole world was about to collapse! He didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do but finally decided to go back to his compartment. He pulled out the limited ID he had and placed it on the floor by the door. He put his train ticket beside it. Then he flopped on his bed and pretended to be passed out. When the customs officers came through, they opened his door, looked at the train ticket and moved on to the next room. When they asked the bar steward about Robert, he told them Robert had been drinking all day and had finally collapsed in his bed. No more questions were asked.

  An hour or so later, the train was back in Canada and Robert was back in the bar car drinking Crown Royal. The steward could only smile and shake his head at Robert’s powers of recuperation.

  The next morning the train pulled into Montreal and Robert caught a cab to the airport for an Air Canada flight to Ottawa. When he got home, Janice was pleased to hear that her husband had enjoyed such a successful business trip and had earned himself a bonus. Robert wouldn’t reveal the amount of his bonus but Janice had to assume it was significant because he was very generous with the money he gave her to pay the household bills.

  She never saw the scads of cash he hid in various places around the house, or the huge roll of money the Kid took down to the Fat Man to pay off his loan and its exorbitant interest.

  CHAPTER 6

  Ottawa

  Not long after Robert’s Halifax trip Janice suffered a miscarriage. It was a severe blow to both of them. Janice had been thrilled at the prospect of having a child and, once she knew that Robert felt that way too, she had looked forward to the three of them forming their own little family. She spent a lot of time planning for the baby’s arrival and took great delight imagining what it would look like. Thinking about the baby was the one thing that kept her mind off her father’s illness.

  Robert was sadly disappointed by their loss. He had always liked kids and had been looking forward to being a father. Even though his future with Janice was uncertain, the idea of having a baby around the house seemed exciting to him.

  Janice was devastated. With her father’s condition worsening by the day, losing the baby was a double setback. She became depressed and morose and could barely function around the apartment. Robert was genuinely concerned about her and did his best to lift her out of her depression. For the first month or so after her miscarriage Robert was the model husband. No one could have been more kind or considerate. No matter what shift she was working, he made sure he was home to care for her and cater to her every need. When she was away at work Robert cleaned the apartment, did the laundry, washed the dishes and made the meals.

  But as time went on, and the pain of her loss began to subside, this began to change. Robert went back to the bars with his friends. When he didn’t go to the bars he drank at home. The more he drank, the more moody and irritable he became. His behaviour was unpredictable. Sometimes he withdrew into himself and became uncommunicative. At other times he was volatile, reacting explosively to the slightest provocation. Janice could never tell what might set him off; the constant threat of his bad temper pervaded the apartment and made her anxious.

  One of his biggest eruptions occurred after he went out and bought a new car. Robert bought the car for Janice in the hopes of raising her spirits. Working through Neil McLaren, he traded their junky little K-car for a snappy 1983 Chrysler Baby New Yorker. When Robert told her about the new car, she was delighted. It seemed to take her mind off her troubles.

  She did find it curious that, once again, Robert had registered the car in her name. But he explained that putting it in her name was a good way to establish her credit rating. Since Robert was taking care of the payments, she saw no reason to object.

  The day the car was to be picked up Janice dropped in at the dealers on her way home from work. Without telling Robert, she signed the car out and brought it home as a surprise. When she got home and showed him what was sitting at the curb, he became furious.

  “What the hell are you doing with that car?” he screamed.

  “I stopped by the dealership and thought I’d surprise you.”

  “I didn’t tell you to pick it up. What the hell are you doing, bringing it home without telling me? Jesus Christ!”

  “What are you getting so angry about? I just thought I would ...”

  “Well you just stop thinking so much. Nobody asked you to pick it up! If I wanted you to pick the fucking car up, I would have told you to.” “Yeah, but what’s the big deal? I just ...”

  “The big deal is you should mind your own goddamn business.”

  “What are you getting so hot about? I didn’t ...”

  “Look! I’m the one who bought the goddamn car, I’m the one who’ll pick it up.”

  “Oh, give it a rest will you. What’s the matter with you anyway? I can’t believe that you could ...”

  With that, Robert snatched the car keys from her hand and stomped out to the car at the curb. He jumped behind the wheel, slammed the door and roared away. Janice couldn’t believe it. He was acting like a child.

  She wondered what was going on in his head. Why was he acting so crazy? It must be his job, she told herself. It must be the pressure he’s under. She noticed he had become irritable and moody shortly after he began working for his father. To a certain extent, she could understand it. His work was so secret he couldn’t talk about it with anybody, not even her. It was just like being a spy or a private detective. On top of that, there w
as a lot of liability dealing with valuable stocks and bonds, and carrying all that money around. That kind of responsibility had to weigh on him.

  Whatever was bothering him, it made him very temperamental. One minute he was happy, the next he was severely depressed. He could be so loving and caring one moment, then in a split second, he would turn on her and become mean and surly. His heavy drinking made him all the more unstable.

  After the incident with the new car he returned to the house that night, very apologetic and remorseful. He told Janice he loved her and tried to be affectionate but she wasn’t very receptive. Tired of his abuse, she told him she wasn’t going to take it any more. This time it was she who had the tantrum and all Robert could do was stand there and take it.

  This soon became a pattern. They would have a big screaming match over a simple matter, followed by his apologies. Janice, in turn, would rake him over the coals but would soon cool down and forgive him. This was followed with hugs and kisses and it wouldn’t be long before the incident was over and forgotten.

  Their violent arguments became a commonplace to the tenants in the six-plex. Often the neighbours could hear every bitter word that was said. In some ways their spats were comical because inevitably they ended with Robert hollering that he loved her.

  One of the sore points between them was the fact that Robert was spending more and more time with Neil and the boys at the bars. Janice had difficulty understanding why he had to go out so often and why he had to drink so much. She argued that it must be costing a fortune. She also didn’t like the people he hung around with and definitely didn’t want them coming to the apartment.

  Robert was defiant. The more Janice disapproved of him going out, the more he was determined to do it. Usually he went out when she was at work. When she was on afternoons or the night shift he met Neil almost evry night. They would drink until the bars closed. Robert seldom invited Neil back to his apartment on Melgund and he never invited him there when Janice was home.

  Robert drank to dull his anxiety and to sooth his frayed nerves. He lived in constant fear of being found out and of being sent back to prison in the States. Whenever he heard a door slam or a siren wail, his stomach jumped.

  As the fall approached, Janice’s father got worse. She wanted to go to Pembroke and spend a weekend with him. It was also time that Robert met her family. Robert liked the idea of the trip and, when Janice asked him to refrain from drinking while they were there, he was happy to agree.

  When they arrived in Pembroke Robert was welcomed with open arms by Janice’s mother, Patricia. She was happy to have her daughter home for a visit and wanted Robert to feel comfortable and welcome. Janice’s brother, Peter, was not as receptive. He was polite with Robert but leery of him. Peter was concerned about his sister going out with someone she’d met in a hostel for homeless men. It made him wonder about Robert’s background.

  Although Janice’s father, Hugh, was pleasant with Robert, he wasn’t very talkative when they first arrived. His cancer was at an advanced stage and had sapped his strength. He spent most of his time resting under the relief of pain medication.

  Robert and Patricia got along very well. He asked if there was anything he could do around the house to help out and, when he discovered that she wanted the front porch painted, he promptly volunteered. He and Janice spent most of Saturday afternoon in the crisp autumn air working on the porch. It was the nicest day they had spent together in a long time. Janice loved working beside him and was impressed with his attention to detail and the careful way he went about his work.

  That night Robert stayed up talking with Hugh McKenzie. He had been a career soldier in the British army and enjoyed explaining about guns and wars and military life. The older man became enthusiastic when he spoke about his experiences in the army. Robert relied on his military school background to ask questions and keep the conversation moving. It was a pleasant evening for both of them. Robert enjoyed the older man’s company and found himself wondering how his own life would have been different if he had been raised by stable parents like Janice’s. Since he had never known such a placid way of life, Robert found himself feeling envious of a family with such loving parents. At the same time he was skeptical, wondering if her parents were always like this or was this just a show they were putting on for his benefit?

  Other questions went through Robert’s mind as he sat talking to Janice’s father. Here was a good and decent man who lay dying, while he, a criminal living a deceitful double life, was in the pink of health. To Robert there could be no satisfactory explanation.

  What made it all the more difficult to accept was that Mr. and Mrs. McKenzie were devout churchgoers and deeply religious. Robert wasn’t religious. He seldom thought about God, and when he did, he certainly wasn’t convinced of His existence. If there was a God, He was a strange God who, more often than not, seemed to neglect good people and punish innocent children. How could anyone have faith in a God like that?

  Two special things happened that weekend for Robert. At the end of the first evening Robert gave Mr. McKenzie his injection of morphine to get him through the night. Somehow that act established a momentary bond of intimacy between the two men. It felt good for Robert to help. On Sunday morning, at Janice’s urging, Robert went to church with her and her mother. There was something peaceful and satisfying about that experience.

  Sunday night, as they drove back to Ottawa, Janice confided that she was afraid her father couldn’t hang on much longer. She was distraught. First she had lost the baby, now her father was dying. Robert held her hand and let her vent her feelings.

  But Robert’s money was running low again. He had to get back to work. On November 12 he caught an Air Canada flight to Calgary. Knowing that his luggage would not be x-rayed on a domestic flight, he checked his bags in at the ticket counter with his gun in his suitcase. His was not the only gun on board that day. The plane was full of hunters heading west and each of them had one or two high gauge rifles stowed in the luggage compartment. Somehow all these guns made Robert feel more confident that his insignificant little revolver would not be detected.

  As was his custom, he checked into a commodious Calgary hotel, went down to the bar for a few drinks, and later that night, called Janice for a chat. After that he went to bed and slept like a baby.

  The next morning he robbed the Royal Bank on Eighth Avenue, just a block away from the Scotia Bank he had robbed the previous month.

  Following the same routine, he handed the teller a plastic bag and a note that read: “HERE WE GO. DO NOT REMOVE YOUR HANDS FROM THE TOP OF THE COUNTER. DO NOT SET OFF YOUR SILENT ALARM. MY PARTNER IS RIGHT OUTSIDE THE BANK WITH A POLICE BAND RADIO. WE’RE BOTH ARMED AND WE’LL USE THE GUNS. YOU’RE TO TAKE THIS BAG AND HAND IT TO THE TELLER’S WINDOW, THEY’RE TO PUT IN ALL THE 100’S, 50’S, 20’S, AND 10’S IN THE BAG. YOU’RE TO WATCH ME. IF I SIGNAL, BRING THE BAG BACK IN. DON’T BE A HERO.”

  The teller did what she was told and Whiteman left the bank with $1,370. He was very disappointed. This would barely cover his expenses. In reviewing his procedure, he realized he had made some mistakes. In his note he had mentioned an accomplice to make the teller afraid and cooperative. He had also given a lot of directions. This made the note too long, leaving him vulnerable while the teller read it. Robert would have to correct that.

  Ten days later he robbed the Bank of Nova Scotia in Ottawa. It was on Bank Street just a few blocks from his apartment and down the street from Peppers. Robert didn’t like to work so close to home but in his travels around Ottawa he kept seeing banks that were easy marks and he couldn’t resist the temptation. This was one of them. Besides, working near home cut down on his overhead. He had no expenses for air flights, meals or accommodations. For a change, he could walk to work.

  He had driven by this particular bank often enough to know how badly it lacked security and was sure it would be an easy touch. It was during this robbery that Robert began wearing a three piece suit under his o
uter clothing. He figured no one would suspect a man of being a bank robber who was wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase. This time his note was shorter: “IT’S A HOLDUP. DON’T MAKE ANY NOISE, THERE’S A PARTNER IN THE BANK WITH ME.” The operation went much faster. Within minutes he was discarding his outer clothes and walking home.

  He was quite satisfied until he sat in his living room and counted out his money. A measly $650! This was worse than Calgary. Too big a risk for too little money. From then until the end of 1984 he robbed three more banks: two more in Ottawa and one in Halifax. One of the Ottawa robberies was on Christmas Eve when he needed some money to finish his Christmas shopping. It was relatively lucrative. He handed the teller a note and walked away with $1,900. As he was leaving the bank he was tempted to yell “Merry Christmas,” but decided against it because it would sound too juvenile. He wanted to keep his work on a professional level.

  Robert had good reason to think of himself as a professional. Since October 3, he had robbed eight banks for a total of $20,000. That was a tidy sum for a few days work. Furthermore, he prided himself that he had done it without any violence. Not a single shot had been fired; no one had been injured.

  Next year he planned to get some help, maybe take on a partner. It would make things safer having someone to cover his back. Even if he had to split the take, Robert was convinced that, with an accomplice, they could steal twice as much money. But that was for next year, right now it was time for a well-earned holiday.