Raymond J. Carr - 30 Years On the Run

Raymond J. Carr, 2020

Print ISBN: 978-1-09834-074-2

eBook ISBN: 978-1-09834-075-9

This book is for the men and women of
law enforcement who dedicate their lives to make this country better and safer for all of us. And for my family, whose love and support made my career possible.

Contents

Acknowledgment

Completing this book would not have been possible without the talents of researcher/writer Joseph A. Slobodzian and writer/editor Dr. Maria Hess. The success of the investigation I share with you was fortified by the skills and expertise of many law enforcement professionals. Several are mentioned in the book; however, others who contributed to the process were equally valued. I wish I could name them all.

This book took a long time to write. Through it all, my wife Coleen and our three children were incredibly patient: Kelly, my editor extraordinaire; Ray, my life coach; and Jillian, my voice of reason. My mother, Shirley Carr, has always been my inspiration in whatever Ive done, and my father, Raymond J. Carr Sr., my strength.

While writing this book, we lost our 33-year-old son Ray. I wanted to put down the pen and forget about this whole process. But I know Ray wouldnt have wanted me to do that.

So, Ray, I dont know if you will read this since its not about sports. But you lived through this process with me, and you wanted to wait until it was finished to read it. Well, this ones for you, my best friend. You will be in my heart forever and ever until we meet again.

Introduction

There are cases you never forget. I didnt know in 2001 that this particular one would change the trajectory of my career. Nor did I know that the offender would become the most prolific and successful bank robber in U.S. history.

I had been an FBI Special Agent for 13 years at that point, and was also serving as the primary coordinator for the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime for the FBI Philadelphia Division. One of my primary responsibilities was to assist case agents and law enforcement officers in solving their most difficult cases.

To call this case difficult would be an understatement. Colleagues in our FBI satellite offices were looking for an offender who was robbing banks in their jurisdictions for more than a decade. They asked me to look at the evidence uncovered thus far and offer investigative suggestions.

This offender appeared to be brilliant. I needed to understand him, which meant putting myself in his shoes and seeing the world through his eyes. Had he stuck around long enough in any one place, I may have been able to do that. But this guy was mysterious. He faded in and out of existence, like a ghost. There were no lines for me to follow, so I drew outside of them. And the questions wracked my brain.

What is he thinking?

What does he know that I dont?

Why does he commit these crimes this way, at this time, and in these places?

Id worked long enough for the FBI to know the ropes. Sometimes you were just along for the ride, other times youd assist or lead. I may have dri ven this case, but some of the best law enforcement professionals in the region supported me. I was the protagonist in this unpredictable drama, and this was my greatest show on Earth.

Bank robbers take huge risks. They go into banks, hold them up, and try not to get caught. It sounds simple, but acts of robbery are fraught with indecision, lousy planning or fear. FBI agents take risks, too. In pursuit of justice, we risk our and our families lives. But loved ones understand. When we go home at night, we walk into a loving, safe space. Theres no judgment. Families absorb the fact that people like me are here to make things happen, not watch them happen.

The thrill is the hunt. You develop a storyline that depicts offenders personalities by studying the behavior they exhibit while committing crimes. You record every detail. Usually, you discover their modus operandi quickly, and you roll with it.

Not this time.

This son-of-a-bitch was nothing like I thought hed be. He was an enigma, robbing banks then disappearing. As much I loved the study of human behavior, I couldnt categorize this mastermind who dodged respected law enforcement professiona ls for 13 years. Thirteen years . I needed to see what made him so special, something no one else could see.

I love a good mystery except when the mystery becomes reality, and offenders are hurting people. Then it gets real. And personal.

Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity is the FBI motto. Tenacity drives us. I believe that the men and women of the FBI are intelligent and committed individuals who make the world a better, safer place. Every day I ask myself how I got through the maze and had the great fortune of working with these incredible people. Everybody has a dream. Ive lived mine.

The FBI provided all the resources I needed in this pivotal case. More than professionals from local and state police agencies worked tirel essly to nail down this robber.

You never know why things happen in life, though my experiences prepared me for what was to come. Im a patient, calm man those who love me say a little too calm. I poured over voluminous files and put facts together until I reached an epiphany.

I knew in my gut who this guy was.

Everybody thought I was full of shit.

Turned out I wasnt.

Part One

The Dream

CHAPTER

Look What I Found!

When their last fort got pummeled two years earlier by Hurricane Floyd, Tim Floros and Sean Kavanagh decided to build a better one in the woods across from the Radnor Township building in Radnor, Pennsylvania. It was April 2, 2001, and for the spirited 13-year-old explorers, it was still cool to hang out in the woods. Cable television and video games were available, but it would be years before high-tech monopolized young minds and society in general.

Tim and Sean liked Encke Park, which boasted ten acres of woods and fields divided by the small stream called Ithan Run and a raised hill, which we called a berm in FBI documentation, that held the abandoned remains of the P&W trolley line. (Berm is also a term used in railroad terminology.) Built in 1906 to carry commuters from Upper Darby, on the western edge of Philadelphia, to Strafford and other flourishing suburbs along the Main Line, the line had been abandoned in 1956. Years later, it would become a well-maintained hiking trail, but by 2001, nature reclaimed the raised trolley roadbed. It didnt take much imagination to view the green, overgrown berm as the ramparts of some forgotten Revolutionary War-era fort.

The woods surrounded an affluent Radnor area, a suburban community that grew along the old Main Line of the Pennsylvania Railroad. Sean and Tim knew these woods well, and they started searching for an optimal spot near the tracks. They chose to split up, Tim taking the north side and Sean the south. After about 20 minutes, Tim uncovered a hollowed-out section of the berm, a bunch of rocks, tree limbs and what looked like old metal fencing. Good stuff for a decent fort, they believed.

As they began moving loose stones piled up against the berm, they saw something buried under the rocks. Sunk horizontally into the side of the ten -foot high rafter was a black corrugated storm drainage pipe about two feet in diameter and four feet long. Blocking its opening was a two-by-two-foot piece of wood that had sunk into the ground.

Tim and Sean had no clue what this was, and, as most teenagers probably would have, decided that buried inside it was a body. If it was a body, it made sense to hide it in the middle of the woods. Sean was terrified, but Tim convinced him to stay. They began digging down to remove the board from the front of the pipe. There were no human remains, but something stranger: a couple of two- to three-foot-long sections of white PVC pipe, each about six inches in diameter, with ends sealed with rubber caps. There was also a Tupperware container wrapped in a plastic bag. Tim and Sean debated whether the cache might be booby-trapped, but decided to open one of the PVC tubes anyway. The rubber cap popped off, revealing inside several rolled-up newspaper articles. They thought it was a scrapbook until they realized that the clippings were all about bank robberies. Weird, but cool just the same, they thought.