[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
slipping them into a dark canvas bag. She could hear him muttering, half
to himself, half to her, "Oh.
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Dye pack, " he said softly. "I've had enough of those in my lifetime.
" Did he want her to know how savvy he was about bank robbing? He seemed
to. She recognized the sound when he opened a cardboard box that was in
the vault. She knew there were dye packs inside. And so did the robber.
He sounded annoyed as he said, "Oh, more.. .." She heard him place them
on top of the vault.
Was he through? No, he turned to her once more, and said, "OK.
Now open the ATM." She lied to him, explaining that it was a very
complicated procedure that involved several bank employees.
She hoped that he didn't know as much about the ATM's workings as he
obviously did about the bank itself. They walked toward the ATM, and she
felt her heart pounding. Suddenly, there was a squawking sound that
sounded like the squelch button on a scanner.
A strange, almost robotlike, sing-songy male voice said, "Five, four,
three, two, one. Endyou're out of there." 30 Both of the masked robbers
instantly moved toward the west exit doors, but the man with the bag of
money turned briefly and said, "Thank you, ladies! See you later! " The
moment they were out, she locked the doors behind them.
She watched them cross the street and get in a small Chevrolet station
wagon with a silver luggage rack.
One of the other tellers took down the license number, 645BPM. It had
Washington plates. So they had a beat-up old tan station wagon. Now,
they also had $141,405. A few miles away, as Shawn Johnson watched and
waited, his radio crackled with the report that police units were
responding to a bank robbery. Damn!
He had almost tossed a coin between the First Interstate and the bank
he'd picked, and he was frustrated that he had guessed wrong.
It wasn't only the bank robbers who felt the adrenaline rush.
Shawn Johnson turned his car around and headed for the crime scene, but
he was too late. Mike Magan was already there. A retired naval officer
was telling him about the masked man who had pushed him aside as he
waited in a teller's line, and of how easily he had leapt over the gate
to get to where the money was. "He was like a gazelle, " the man
marveled. "He went over that gate with no effort at all." And the bank
robbers had escaped clean. If there was one word that would sum up the
task force's feeling about Hollywood, it was frustration.
"I was so far behind this guy, " Magan said. "And then I remembered my
days as a defensive lineman. When a runner got too far ahead of you, you
had to cut him off at an angle. That's what I had to do with Hollywood.
I just wasn't sure how." The license number wouldn't do the task force
much good, Shawn Johnson traced the number to a Tacoma, Washington,
address. The owner told the FBI agent that he had once owned the station
wagon, but he had advertised it in The Seattle Times in November. A man
named "Tim" had called him from a car phone. Two hours later, he showed
up with another man in a gray Chevy Blazer. The driver had let "Tim" off
and driven away.
Tim had asked only to drive the station wagon around the block.
Page 123
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Satisfied, he said he wanted it. "He paid the $1,200 in cash, " the
former owner said. "All $100 bills. I wanted to go to the license office
to change the title right away, but he said he could do it without me.
Then I asked if we could do it the next day, and he said that was OK.
But he didn't come back the next day."
"What did he look like? " Johnson asked. The man shrugged. "White, maybe
thirty to forty, six feet, 200 pounds, short hair and a stubbly beard."
"What was he wearing? "
"Sports coat gray, maybe. Button down shirt.
Gloves dirty yellow gloves.
"
"Can you remember anything else about him? "
"No, he was just a guy an ordinary-looking guy." Ordinary or not, Shawn
Johnson had an FBI artist sketch the man as the car owner described it.
He believed that the man might very well be one of Hollywood's
accomplices. Next, Johnson had the seller look at the recovered station
wagon. "Is there anything different about it since you sold it in
November? " he asked. The man walked around it, looked under the hood,
and then he nodded. "Yep, " he said. "It has four brand new tires. And
the battery's new too." Johnson traced the tires to a Les Schwab dealer
in Tacoma. But no one remembered who had bought them. Nevertheless, it
established another transaction involving Hollywood that was south of
Seattle.
There was a silent war going on, a war between combatants who didn't
even know each other. The Puget Sound Violent Crimes Task Force knew in
their bones that Hollywood was planning his next bank job. Although
$141,000 was a big bundle of cash, it was not nearly as much as
Hollywood had gotten in January a year earlier.
They doubted that he would wait a whole year before he hit again.
The investigators tabulated every bank robbery that they had attributed
to Hollywood. They noted the date, time, day of the week, bank location,
amount stolen, and whether he had brought an accomplice into the bank.
They added notations on whether a vehicle was recovered, whether a dye
pack or marked bills were taken, and counted how many days passed
between robberies. They knew every disguise he'd ever worn down to his
shoes, they had dozens of surveillance photographs. Every human being on
earth has certain behavioral patterns, most unconscious. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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slipping them into a dark canvas bag. She could hear him muttering, half
to himself, half to her, "Oh.
Page 122
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Dye pack, " he said softly. "I've had enough of those in my lifetime.
" Did he want her to know how savvy he was about bank robbing? He seemed
to. She recognized the sound when he opened a cardboard box that was in
the vault. She knew there were dye packs inside. And so did the robber.
He sounded annoyed as he said, "Oh, more.. .." She heard him place them
on top of the vault.
Was he through? No, he turned to her once more, and said, "OK.
Now open the ATM." She lied to him, explaining that it was a very
complicated procedure that involved several bank employees.
She hoped that he didn't know as much about the ATM's workings as he
obviously did about the bank itself. They walked toward the ATM, and she
felt her heart pounding. Suddenly, there was a squawking sound that
sounded like the squelch button on a scanner.
A strange, almost robotlike, sing-songy male voice said, "Five, four,
three, two, one. Endyou're out of there." 30 Both of the masked robbers
instantly moved toward the west exit doors, but the man with the bag of
money turned briefly and said, "Thank you, ladies! See you later! " The
moment they were out, she locked the doors behind them.
She watched them cross the street and get in a small Chevrolet station
wagon with a silver luggage rack.
One of the other tellers took down the license number, 645BPM. It had
Washington plates. So they had a beat-up old tan station wagon. Now,
they also had $141,405. A few miles away, as Shawn Johnson watched and
waited, his radio crackled with the report that police units were
responding to a bank robbery. Damn!
He had almost tossed a coin between the First Interstate and the bank
he'd picked, and he was frustrated that he had guessed wrong.
It wasn't only the bank robbers who felt the adrenaline rush.
Shawn Johnson turned his car around and headed for the crime scene, but
he was too late. Mike Magan was already there. A retired naval officer
was telling him about the masked man who had pushed him aside as he
waited in a teller's line, and of how easily he had leapt over the gate
to get to where the money was. "He was like a gazelle, " the man
marveled. "He went over that gate with no effort at all." And the bank
robbers had escaped clean. If there was one word that would sum up the
task force's feeling about Hollywood, it was frustration.
"I was so far behind this guy, " Magan said. "And then I remembered my
days as a defensive lineman. When a runner got too far ahead of you, you
had to cut him off at an angle. That's what I had to do with Hollywood.
I just wasn't sure how." The license number wouldn't do the task force
much good, Shawn Johnson traced the number to a Tacoma, Washington,
address. The owner told the FBI agent that he had once owned the station
wagon, but he had advertised it in The Seattle Times in November. A man
named "Tim" had called him from a car phone. Two hours later, he showed
up with another man in a gray Chevy Blazer. The driver had let "Tim" off
and driven away.
Tim had asked only to drive the station wagon around the block.
Page 123
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Satisfied, he said he wanted it. "He paid the $1,200 in cash, " the
former owner said. "All $100 bills. I wanted to go to the license office
to change the title right away, but he said he could do it without me.
Then I asked if we could do it the next day, and he said that was OK.
But he didn't come back the next day."
"What did he look like? " Johnson asked. The man shrugged. "White, maybe
thirty to forty, six feet, 200 pounds, short hair and a stubbly beard."
"What was he wearing? "
"Sports coat gray, maybe. Button down shirt.
Gloves dirty yellow gloves.
"
"Can you remember anything else about him? "
"No, he was just a guy an ordinary-looking guy." Ordinary or not, Shawn
Johnson had an FBI artist sketch the man as the car owner described it.
He believed that the man might very well be one of Hollywood's
accomplices. Next, Johnson had the seller look at the recovered station
wagon. "Is there anything different about it since you sold it in
November? " he asked. The man walked around it, looked under the hood,
and then he nodded. "Yep, " he said. "It has four brand new tires. And
the battery's new too." Johnson traced the tires to a Les Schwab dealer
in Tacoma. But no one remembered who had bought them. Nevertheless, it
established another transaction involving Hollywood that was south of
Seattle.
There was a silent war going on, a war between combatants who didn't
even know each other. The Puget Sound Violent Crimes Task Force knew in
their bones that Hollywood was planning his next bank job. Although
$141,000 was a big bundle of cash, it was not nearly as much as
Hollywood had gotten in January a year earlier.
They doubted that he would wait a whole year before he hit again.
The investigators tabulated every bank robbery that they had attributed
to Hollywood. They noted the date, time, day of the week, bank location,
amount stolen, and whether he had brought an accomplice into the bank.
They added notations on whether a vehicle was recovered, whether a dye
pack or marked bills were taken, and counted how many days passed
between robberies. They knew every disguise he'd ever worn down to his
shoes, they had dozens of surveillance photographs. Every human being on
earth has certain behavioral patterns, most unconscious. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]