aliases during his lifetime, including Brian Wilson, David Geiger, and Renee Whipple.
At twenty-three, David received a four-year sentence at Missouri State Penitentiary for armed robbery and assault. After his release, he is alleged to have committed a series of robberies of gem dealers, private gold collectors, and armored cars in the Midwest. In 1978 David fled Ohio just minutes in front of an IRS raid that could have put him behind bars for close to half a century.
Dozens of bank robberies by a lone gunman in Minnesota, North Dakota, and California were eventually linked to David, and a fingerprint taken from a stolen car he used in one of the robberies tied him to the murder of a confederate, though he was never apprehended for these crimes. David has been proclaimed one of the most successful armed robbers in United States history.
Wells Fargo and a consortium of Midwest banks eventually posted a reward of $300,000 for David’s capture, a reward that has never been collected.
As of Monday, local police, FBI, ATF, and Treasury agents were combing David’s house in West Seattle for clues to what he might have done with some of the more than six million dollars he is thought to have stolen over a fourteen-year period. In addition, agents are looking for money David might have earned after putting large amounts of the stolen funds into legitimate investments.
The last robbery attributed to David took place in Lake Oswego, Oregon, in 1981, where a local bank was robbed of $87,113 by a gunman who escaped on a stolen motorcycle.
Neighbors in West Seattle said the man they knew as Charles Scott Ghanet was a loner, a quiet neighbor who kept to himself and had frequent medical problems.
FBI agents say David’s home was piled with junk and that it would take a week or more to sort through papers and documents in order to track down any remaining funds.
“Who would have thought that old guy was an armored-car robber?” said Hampsted, sipping his coffee. “This the first you heard of it?”
“I’ve been out of town.”
“But you guys found it? Right?”
“We didn’t find anything.”
“You didn’t find his body?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“You know they’re tearing that house apart board by board. They’re even digging up the backyard with a Bobcat.”
“They find the money?”
“Not that we heard.”
“Why would a guy with millions of dollars be living in that little house with all that junk?”
“You met him. He was nuts.”
The odds of our bonds being phony had dwindled to practically nothing. There were hundreds of slips of paper in each sack, thousands altogether. It was easy to believe Tronstad’s assertion that the three bags combined were worth twelve million dollars.
I couldn’t believe I’d hidden them in Iola Pederson’s garage as casually as if they were discount coupons for margarine.
My throat went dry at the prospect of how much trouble I was in.
12. CASH ME OUT, BABY, I’M BLOWIN’ TOWN
“ YOU TALKING TO yourself?”
Lieutenant Sears breezed into the beanery and deposited a sack lunch in the refrigerator. His wife, Heather, got up in the morning before he left for work and put together a couple of sandwiches and a pile of sliced veggies, with a small bag of raisins for dessert. It seemed out of character, because according to Sears, she ruled the roost in their household and dominated their decision making. Although she didn’t have a job and he was often tired from having worked a twenty-four-hour shift, he ran all the household errands, did the chores, and did virtually all the shopping and cooking. Her sole concession to domesticity was the sack lunch. Johnson said it was because she knew we would see it.
We all thought the way she made him dance to her tune was funny, considering what a ball buster Sears was inside the department.
“You were talking to yourself,” Sears said. Hampsted had left the room.
“Was I? I guess it was this article.”
“What article’s
At twenty-three, David received a four-year sentence at Missouri State Penitentiary for armed robbery and assault. After his release, he is alleged to have committed a series of robberies of gem dealers, private gold collectors, and armored cars in the Midwest. In 1978 David fled Ohio just minutes in front of an IRS raid that could have put him behind bars for close to half a century.
Dozens of bank robberies by a lone gunman in Minnesota, North Dakota, and California were eventually linked to David, and a fingerprint taken from a stolen car he used in one of the robberies tied him to the murder of a confederate, though he was never apprehended for these crimes. David has been proclaimed one of the most successful armed robbers in United States history.
Wells Fargo and a consortium of Midwest banks eventually posted a reward of $300,000 for David’s capture, a reward that has never been collected.
As of Monday, local police, FBI, ATF, and Treasury agents were combing David’s house in West Seattle for clues to what he might have done with some of the more than six million dollars he is thought to have stolen over a fourteen-year period. In addition, agents are looking for money David might have earned after putting large amounts of the stolen funds into legitimate investments.
The last robbery attributed to David took place in Lake Oswego, Oregon, in 1981, where a local bank was robbed of $87,113 by a gunman who escaped on a stolen motorcycle.
Neighbors in West Seattle said the man they knew as Charles Scott Ghanet was a loner, a quiet neighbor who kept to himself and had frequent medical problems.
FBI agents say David’s home was piled with junk and that it would take a week or more to sort through papers and documents in order to track down any remaining funds.
“Who would have thought that old guy was an armored-car robber?” said Hampsted, sipping his coffee. “This the first you heard of it?”
“I’ve been out of town.”
“But you guys found it? Right?”
“We didn’t find anything.”
“You didn’t find his body?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“You know they’re tearing that house apart board by board. They’re even digging up the backyard with a Bobcat.”
“They find the money?”
“Not that we heard.”
“Why would a guy with millions of dollars be living in that little house with all that junk?”
“You met him. He was nuts.”
The odds of our bonds being phony had dwindled to practically nothing. There were hundreds of slips of paper in each sack, thousands altogether. It was easy to believe Tronstad’s assertion that the three bags combined were worth twelve million dollars.
I couldn’t believe I’d hidden them in Iola Pederson’s garage as casually as if they were discount coupons for margarine.
My throat went dry at the prospect of how much trouble I was in.
12. CASH ME OUT, BABY, I’M BLOWIN’ TOWN
“ YOU TALKING TO yourself?”
Lieutenant Sears breezed into the beanery and deposited a sack lunch in the refrigerator. His wife, Heather, got up in the morning before he left for work and put together a couple of sandwiches and a pile of sliced veggies, with a small bag of raisins for dessert. It seemed out of character, because according to Sears, she ruled the roost in their household and dominated their decision making. Although she didn’t have a job and he was often tired from having worked a twenty-four-hour shift, he ran all the household errands, did the chores, and did virtually all the shopping and cooking. Her sole concession to domesticity was the sack lunch. Johnson said it was because she knew we would see it.
We all thought the way she made him dance to her tune was funny, considering what a ball buster Sears was inside the department.
“You were talking to yourself,” Sears said. Hampsted had left the room.
“Was I? I guess it was this article.”
“What article’s
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