Chapter 160: B & C 61
In the afternoon, Detective O'Malley and Billy Hawke returned to the Fourth Precinct with further news about the 7-Eleven robbery.
In the early hours of yesterday morning, after the robbery, the clerk did not immediately call the police. Instead, he'd taken twenty dollars from the cash drawer and slipped it into his pocket.
To cover up his theft, he'd tampered with the scene further.
According to the clerk's eventual confession, this particular convenience store had been robbed more than once over the years. He'd dealt with police numerous times and had become intimately familiar with their methods of scene investigation and interrogation.
Although he didn't understand the specific operations and principles of fingerprint technology, he knew that places the robber touched would leave marks, and the police could use those marks to identify suspects.
So the clerk had repeatedly wiped every surface the robber had touched with a wet rag, methodically eliminating evidence.
It was during this cleanup that he'd discovered the "B & C 61" mark carved into the counter.
He'd initially intended to scratch it off entirely, but realized that fresh gouges in the wood would be difficult to explain if discovered. Instead, he positioned the radio there to conceal the marking.
After completing these actions, the clerk finally dialed the police.
He'd expected patrol officers to arrive immediately, but due to the weather conditions that night, they were two hours late.
In the presence of the patrol officers, the clerk tallied the losses, falsely claiming that the robber had taken $89 in cash.
The actual amount stolen was only sixty-nine dollars. He'd inflated the robbery total by twenty, the exact amount now hidden in his pocket.
It wasn't the first time he'd done this.
When facing the patrol officers, though, his composure had cracked. He'd been incredibly nervous, hands trembling slightly as he filled out the incident report.
The patrol officers, noting the relatively small loss, hadn't taken the case too seriously. They'd left after routinely recording his statement, their minds already on the next call.
The clerk had breathed a sigh of relief and immediately begun cleaning, tidying up the convenience store with frantic energy.
He'd expected the matter to end there, filed away, forgotten, just another petty robbery in a city full of them.
He hadn't expected two FBI agents and a State Trooper to arrive after dawn.
The unexpected appearance of federal investigators had drained his confidence entirely. The clerk had been terrified, convinced he'd somehow caused a major disaster without realizing it.
He'd been afraid his theft would be exposed and desperately wanted to hide it from the police. But he'd also worried the FBI had unknown investigative methods, techniques that would uncover everything regardless of his precautions.
He'd wanted to confess everything, come clean, and beg for leniency. But he'd also feared his actions might have hindered the investigation, caused significant problems, and provoked retaliation from angry federal agents.
After considerable internal struggle, the clerk had decided to hold out to the end, insisting he'd seen nothing, heard nothing, remembered nothing. If pressed, he was too nervous to recall details clearly.
He'd covered up the tampering at the store by claiming it was standard convenience-store policy and that the patrol officers had already completed their investigation.
The only problem had been the mark left by the robber.
After further internal debate, the clerk ultimately hadn't dared to conceal it.
At this point in the recounting, Billy Hawke's face showed genuine indignation, his jaw tight, eyes flashing with the particular frustration of a young agent encountering civilian obstruction for the first time.
Detective O'Malley took over the narrative, his tone more measured.
"The clerk's statement wasn't entirely fabricated, though."
"He was genuinely held at gunpoint by the robber and kept his head down to avoid seeing the robber's face directly."
"But when ordered to turn around and face the wall, he briefly caught a glimpse of one of the robbers in his peripheral vision."
"That robber had the lower half of his face covered with a gray cotton bandanna, wore denim overalls, a thin tie underneath, and had a slender, wiry build."
Bernie asked, "Height? Did he estimate the robber's height?"
Detective O'Malley looked down and flipped through his notebook, searching for the specific notation.
Billy Hawke glanced at him and answered first. "He said approximately five-and-a-half feet."
Detective O'Malley found the record. He glanced at Billy Hawke, then nodded toward Bernie and Theodore in confirmation. "It is five-and-a-half feet."
Bernie looked at Theodore.
This matched the description of the male robber in the case brief the Deputy Police Chief had provided them that morning, height, build, and even the general clothing description aligned.
Bernie asked them both, "What about the other robber? Did he see the second one?"
Billy Hawke and Detective O'Malley both shook their heads.
The clerk claimed he'd only glimpsed one individual clearly.
Detective O'Malley shifted his weight, then continued after a brief pause. "The robber wasn't wearing high heels, and the clerk's determination of the robber's gender wasn't based on footwear or gait."
"It was based on a conversation between the robbers during the crime itself."
"The clerk heard their voices and determined that one of them was female."
"During the robbery, the two robbers had a conversation. He remembered part of it clearly."
According to the clerk's statement, when the robber first burst into the convenience store and pressed the gun barrel to his head, he'd shouted: "Don't move! Hands up! Face the wall! Face the wall! Now!"
After the clerk turned to face the wall as demanded, the other robber had spoken up nervously: "Clyde! He, he's obeying!"
Bernie interrupted. "She called him Clyde? The robber holding the gun, his name is Clyde?"
Detective O'Malley looked at him directly. "That's what the clerk reported."
Bernie nodded, wrote down the male robber's apparent name, and motioned for Detective O'Malley to continue.
The armed robber had then urged his companion: "Quick! Bonnie! The money! All of it! And the cigarettes! Chesterfield! Look closely!"
Bernie couldn't help but interrupt again, his tone shifting from curiosity to something approaching disbelief. "He called out his companion's name? Her name is Bonnie?"
He lowered his pen slowly, his expression transforming. He looked at Theodore, then his gaze swept between Billy Hawke and Detective O'Malley with dawning comprehension.
"Bonnie and Clyde?!"
When he'd first heard the name Clyde, he'd assumed it was simply the male robber's actual name, careless criminals announcing their identities in the heat of the moment.
But when the second name appeared, he realized his mistake immediately.
Bonnie and Clyde.
As a man from Texas, when these two names were placed together in a criminal context, his first thought was of that infamous couple, the desperadoes who'd become American folk legends.
This pair of outlaws was arguably among America's most famous criminals, with their story woven into the nation's cultural fabric. They were both from Texas, active during the Great Depression, more specifically, between 1932 and 1934, when banks failed, and desperation drove people to extremes.
Bernie had been in his early teens when these two were at their peak, tearing across the Southwest in stolen cars, robbing banks and gas stations, leaving bodies in their wake.
At that time, the media had been saturated with reports about them, newspapers, radio broadcasts, and newsreels, all competing for the most sensational coverage.
People around him had discussed them constantly, their exploits growing more mythical with each retelling.
It could be said that Bernie had grown up listening to the stories of these two, their daring escapes, their doomed romance, their violent end on a Louisiana highway.
Hearing these two names again now, in this context, gave him a strange feeling, as if history were repeating itself, like a ghost story coming to life in the present day.
Before Detective O'Malley could respond, Bernie waved his hand, signaling him to continue with the rest of the clerk's statement.
Detective O'Malley paused briefly, then read the final portion of information from his notes.
"At the end of the robbery, the two robbers counted their take right there at the counter. After the armed robber carved the 'B & C 61' mark into the wood, the two fled the scene."
He closed his notebook with a soft snap.
Theodore looked at Bernie.
Bernie took a moment to compose himself and organize his thoughts. He briefly introduced the burned vehicle discovered that morning along the Anacostia River. He summarized the case brief the Deputy Police Chief had given them regarding the Esso gas station robbery.
Finally, he added with a complex tone, "Bonnie Parker has a famous photograph, her with a cigarette in her mouth."
"The one she's holding is a Chesterfield."
Billy Hawke looked somewhat confused. "Isn't it Old Gold? I heard it was Old Gold."
He didn't know much about Bonnie and Clyde personally, nor was he particularly interested in Depression-era outlaws. He'd been just an infant when these two were killed in that legendary ambush.
But they were too famous to ignore entirely. Under the overwhelming media coverage of the time and the decades of mythologizing that followed, they'd been imbued with a certain tragic romanticism, firmly imprinted in the minds of that generation of Americans and becoming permanent fixtures in the cultural landscape.
They were seen as symbols and representations of "doomed lovers," cultural icons of rebellion and desperate romance.
It was nearly impossible not to know about them, at least in broad strokes.
Bernie shook his head firmly. "It's Chesterfield."
He emphasized, "I've read the contemporary reports, numerous accounts from when it happened. They all specify it was Chesterfield."
"Most admirers of this doomed couple also believe Bonnie Parker was holding a Chesterfield in that photograph. It's part of the iconography."
Detective O'Malley spoke up to corroborate Bernie's statement. "It was indeed Chesterfield."
He turned his attention to Theodore, his thoughts visibly assembling behind his eyes. His expression was complex, a mixture of grudging respect and lingering bewilderment.
It turned out Theodore's judgment had been correct from the very beginning.
From determining the car thief would strike again, to believing the 7-Eleven robbery was connected to the car thefts, to suspecting the convenience store clerk was concealing information, to insisting they review the precinct's case files, every instinct had proven accurate.
Detective O'Malley couldn't fathom how he did it. What calculations were happening behind those analytical eyes? What patterns did he see that remained invisible to everyone else?
Theodore looked at Detective O'Malley with a slightly puzzled expression, apparently confused by the intense scrutiny, then brought the conversation back to the case.
He first defined what they were dealing with.
"This is a series of copycat crimes."
"Two criminals are imitating Bonnie and Clyde. They're likely admirers, possibly obsessive admirers, of Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow."
Bernie remembered the "B & C 61" mark carved into the 7-Eleven counter. "Does that marking represent the names Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow?"
Theodore nodded, then shook his head. "Not only that."
"B & C also represent the two criminals themselves, their adopted identities."
Billy Hawke asked, puzzled, "Are the initials of these two criminals actually B and C?"
Theodore didn't completely dismiss his guess. "Possibly. But this mark doesn't necessarily represent their real names."
He explained methodically. "The number 61 at the end of the mark represents the year, 1961."
"B & C represent Bonnie and Clyde from the 1930s, and simultaneously the two robbers themselves in the present."
"They demonstrated a particular fondness for Chesterfield cigarettes in both robberies, demanding them specifically, smoking them at the scenes."
"Chesterfield cigarettes have also been found at both abandoned vehicle locations."
"Chesterfield cigarettes are the brand Bonnie Parker was smoking in her iconic photograph. Smoking Chesterfields makes them feel closer to their idols, or even allows them to believe they've become their idols."
"They don't care about the actual proceeds of the robberies. As long as they obtain money, even a trivial amount, it's enough to satisfy them psychologically."
"The money obtained from robbery allows them to confirm they're doing what their idols once did decades ago."
"They are imitating Bonnie and Clyde. More than that, they aspire to become Bonnie and Clyde."
Bernie's pen moved across the page with renewed focus. Billy Hawke silently pulled out his notebook and began writing as well, his earlier indignation replaced by intense concentration.
Detective O'Malley looked around at the others, then sat down at the side of the table, extracting his own notebook to take detailed notes.
Theodore began his analysis from the beginning, constructing the timeline methodically.
"On April 1st, late at night, between 11:30 and 11:40 PM, two criminals stole an idling police car, drove it to the end of Rodney Road, abandoned the vehicle, and left on foot."
"In those brief minutes of driving that police car, they felt connected to their idols, as if Bonnie and Clyde were right there beside them in the vehicle."
He emphasized his next point. "It's more immediate than simply studying written texts or collecting newspaper reports about their idols. It's experiential. In those moments, they believed they themselves had become their idols."
"They'd never been so close to that feeling before. This sensation intoxicated them, consumed them."
"After a brief period of trepidation and unease, during which they probably expected immediate capture, they decided to imitate their idols' actual criminal actions and relive this feeling more completely."
"They decided to carry out a robbery."
"In the early hours of April 8th, the two stole Frank Moreno's Chevrolet, drove it to the Esso gas station on Maryland Avenue, and robbed the attendant."
"They were prepared for this crime. They'd planned ahead, at least to some degree."
Detective O'Malley interrupted Theodore's analysis. "But in this robbery, their performance was extremely amateurish, very much like complete novices."
After thinking for a moment, he corrected himself. "No, even worse than novices would typically perform."
"There's no sign of genuine criminal preparation at all. They lingered, they ate food, they practically invited discovery."
Theodore shook his head. "They acquired weapons in advance, an Ithaca shotgun and a Harrington & Richardson revolver."
"They carefully selected the remote Esso gas station after presumably scouting multiple locations."
"After choosing that specific target, they stole a vehicle in advance to use as their getaway car."
"These were all preparations they made beforehand. They didn't simply act on impulse."
"But they have no criminal records, and people in their social circles likely have no serious criminal experience, at least not with violent crimes like armed robbery."
"They don't know what practical preparations are needed for a successful robbery beyond what they've read."
"They can only follow the written accounts of their idols' exploits meticulously, like following a recipe."
"They don't even fully understand what they should do during a robbery. Unlike typical robberies aimed at financial gain, their goal isn't monetary profit at all, it's the process of the robbery itself, the experience of inhabiting their idols' roles."
After answering Detective O'Malley's question, Theodore continued his analysis.
"In this first robbery, the two criminals performed immaturely and unprofessionally. But their unexpected success, escaping without capture, greatly encouraged them, validated their fantasy."
"They felt as if they'd truly become their idols, as if they'd stepped through time into 1933."
"They'd never been so close to that experience before."
"The two criminals made a stop on the Anacostia River bank afterward, perhaps reliving the crime together in detail, or perhaps planning their next robbery while the adrenaline still coursed through them."
Bernie keenly noticed something unusual in this narrative and raised a question. "You're saying they don't usually live together?"
Theodore glanced at him and nodded, his expression showing mild approval.
Bernie's perceptiveness remained sharp, his analytical intelligence operating at peak efficiency again.
Theodore felt that since returning to D.C., the duration Bernie's IQ stayed at its peak had been noticeably increasing. Perhaps the familiar environment was restoring his natural capabilities.
"Yesterday afternoon, the Maryland State Police received a call reporting the burned Plymouth Fury. Only the female criminal spoke throughout that call."
"A week earlier, on the afternoon of the Esso gas station robbery, the male criminal called the Maryland State Police to report the stolen patrol car's location."
"They need police involvement to complement their performance, to create the same tense, high-stakes atmosphere that Bonnie and Clyde faced in the 1930s, to enhance their psychological immersion in the roles."
"But simultaneously, the act of calling the police itself allows them to become more deeply immersed in playing Bonnie and Clyde. The outlaws taunting law enforcement, daring them to give chase."
"If they lived together in the same residence, there's no conceivable way the male criminal's voice wouldn't have appeared on yesterday afternoon's call."
"Neither of them would willingly miss such an opportunity to increase their immersion in the fantasy. They would have made the call together, both speaking, both participating."
Detective O'Malley felt his comprehension slipping again, like trying to grasp smoke.
He raised another question. "These two people called the Maryland State Police just to attract the State Troopers' attention? To essentially invite their own arrest?"
Theodore considered this for a moment, then nodded. "That's part of the motivation, yes. But the more fundamental purpose is their dissatisfaction with not having attracted sufficient attention yet."
"They need the police to pursue them the way law enforcement pursued Bonnie and Clyde across five states."
"They need the media to report on them the way newspapers breathlessly covered Bonnie and Clyde's every crime."
"They need ordinary people to discuss them the way Americans discussed Bonnie and Clyde in barbershops and living rooms throughout the Depression."
"They need the external environment to converge with the historical period when Bonnie and Clyde were active in the early 1930s, to satisfy their psychological need for immersion and make them believe more completely that they are Bonnie and Clyde reborn."
[End of Chapter]