An insight into an FBI armored car robbery investigation.
Garda Truck
The polygraph technique is not hard science, like DNA analysis. It requires a combination of skill and science. For this reason, a polygraph examination is only as good as the examiner administering the test. Like all professions, there are good and bad actors. This can be seen in all fields of endeavor. This can best be illustrated by a story my Polygraph Unit Chief, Joe Bradley, related in his opening remarks at our 2019 annual polygraph conference, in New Orleans, Louisiana. All FBI polygraph examiners are required to attend the conference, as 40 hours of annual polygraph training is mandated for all federal examiners. There were perhaps 80 polygraph examiners in attendance.
Bradley looked across the tightly packed room and said, “The polygraph is only as good as the person behind the instrument.” He paused. Everyone nodded in agreement.
“If one of my kids went missing, there are some of you here that I would call on to work on the case. If my wife went missing there are others here that I would prefer to work that case.” He smiled.
The room erupted. Everyone understood, with each examiner hoping they fell into the former category.
******
The bread and butter for most polygraph examiners in the FBI consists of applicant screening. Every person seeking employment with the FBI must successfully take and pass an FBI polygraph exam. This includes unpaid interns. There are no exceptions. With a workforce of over 30,000 employees, and constant employee attrition, this mandates thousands of exams across the U.S. in any given year. It was not unusual for me to conduct between 150 to 200 employee screening exams in Boston on a yearly basis. An easy exam, wherein the candidate is fully candid, can be completed in about 90 minutes. A difficult exam might involve a candidate concealing serious issues, possibly involving drug use or criminal activity. Such an exam can easily take three hours. It was impossible to know what kind of test was walking in your door until the examinee was sitting in my polygraph suite. As a result, I would only schedule two tests a day, one in the morning and another in the afternoon.
So it was that by 4:30 pm on Monday, September 26th, 2011, I had already conducted two difficult polygraph screening exams. I remember looking at my watch and realizing that it was almost time to go home. I was tired. As I started shutting down my computer, I looked forward to going home, despite the rush hour traffic which awaited me. Before my desktop could power down, I could feel my cell phone vibrating. The call was coming from the FBI Resident Agency in Lowell, MA, which is a satellite office for the Boston field office, some 40 miles northwest of the city.
I knew instinctively this could only mean one thing: somebody had committed a crime and a fellow FBI Agent needed my help. Suddenly, I was no longer tired. Such a call was like a shot of adrenalin. I picked up the phone, energized.
“Mike, this is Peggy.”
I recognized the voice of Margaret “Peggy” Cronin instantly. A redhead, she stood out in a crowd despite her small stature. Peggy was an experienced agent with more time in the Bureau than I had. She was one of the most respected agents in the Boston FBI. I remember thinking that if I ever committed a crime, my only hope was that I didn’t end up in her crosshairs.
“Yes Peggy, what’s up?”
“We had an armored car robbery of a Garda truck just now in Methuen,” she said, her tone serious.
“Let me guess, it’s an inside job,” I smiled.
“You got it.”
“How much?”
“The company is doing a count, and it could be as much as a half a million dollars.”
“Wow,” my eyes widened, surprised, “who do you like for it, the driver or the messenger?”
“We suspect the messenger. He and the driver are both at the Methuen Police Department. We need you to polygraph this guy.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Thanks Mike, I’ll be there with the team waiting.”
I quickly gathered my polygraph equipment into a travel bag and rushed out the door. As I started the drive north towards Methuen, I thought about what I knew concerning armored cars. When I started in the FBI as a new agent, I had been assigned to a violent crime squad in New Haven, Connecticut, which investigated bank robberies and armored car robberies. From that experience, I had learned that New England is the capital of armored car heists. If robbing these vehicles was an Olympic sport, the New England states would get the gold medal. This was illustrated in the movie The Town starring Ben Affleck, which depicts a crew of Boston based robbers. The reality, however, is that most of these robberies involve an inside man, usually the truck’s driver or messenger. By company protocol, the driver is never to leave his position behind the wheel. The messenger sits either in the passenger seat or the back of the truck, depending on the truck’s configuration. The messenger is tasked with getting out of the truck and retrieving the bags of cash from the business and putting it in the truck safely. This is a more dangerous job, for obvious reasons, but also provides a greater opportunity to engage in shenanigans.
As I drove in heavy Boston traffic towards Methuen, I considered the possible polygraph questions I would ask the suspect. I also did one more thing - I called Special Agent Andre Khoury.
Although not physically a large man, he had an intense presence and could be surprisingly intimidating. Fluent in Arabic, I was supportive when he expressed interest in attending the polygraph school. He was also one of the funniest people I had ever worked with. It never hurts to work with someone you can have a laugh with, and my workload had been increasing. I needed the backup.
Having been selected by FBI management as a polygraph candidate, Andre attended the Department of Defense polygraph institute based in Fort Jackson, South Carolina in 2011. All federal polygraph examiners must attend this school, which is run by the army and requires almost three months of instruction. Upon completion of his training, Andre returned to Boston as a part-time polygraph examiner. This meant that while he was still assigned to a criminal squad, working cases, he could help me by conducting polygraph exams on the side. He had already helped on various applicant screening exams, but now I saw an opportunity to have him jump into the real polygraph action.
When I pulled into the Methuen Police parking lot, the first thing I noticed was the Garda armored truck in front of the building, draped in yellow crime scene tape (first photo above). I would learn later that the two Garda employees claimed they were robbed on their route, then drove straight to the police station to report the crime.
When I walked into the police station around 6:00 pm, I could sense the buzz of crime scene energy. Peggy was already waiting for me, with several other FBI agents from the Lowell office, including a younger agent named Eric, who was put in charge of the case. Methuen fell within Lowell’s jurisdiction. Andre had not yet arrived.
I rolled my polygraph equipment down the hall towards Peggy and Eric and the rest of the team. Most of them had their arms folded. Something was wrong.
“Bad news, Mike,” Eric started.
“What?” I asked, puzzled.
“Our suspect, the messenger named Martinez, claimed he was having a heart attack. We had to take him to the hospital.”
“Oh, how convenient,” I said, “that sucks.”
“Tell me about it. This was our best lead.”
“Why do you like him for it?”
“He’s from Lawrence, so he knows the area well. He was also suspected in a previous smaller inside robbery, but Garda never could prove it.”
I knew the city of Lawrence to be a high-crime city, bordering Methuen. I knew the area well from having previously worked on a narcotics squad which targeted the area. The city has a majority Dominican population. As a native Spanish speaker, I had an advantage working in Lawrence.
“Sorry we wasted your time coming up here,” Peggy lamented
.
“What about the other guy, the driver?” I inquired.
“He’s a white kid from Rhode Island,” another agent interjected. “We don’t think he’s involved.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“He’s from a good family,” Eric answered, “we checked him out.”
“So, it has to be the Spanish guy, right?” I joked.
The group chuckled.
“Well, he’s only worked for Garda for about two weeks, so that factors in,” he replied, finally giving a reasonable answer.
“Mike,” Peggy offered. “If you want to test the driver, go ahead. You came all the way here. It couldn’t hurt to officially rule him out.”
I thought for a moment. It was 6:30 pm. If I left then, I could make it home for dinner. I was starting to get hungry. I had also already worked a full day. The agents watched as I thought it out, staring at the floor. After a minute, I looked at the group.
“What the hell. Let’s test the guy.”
******
A gregarious Methuen Police Sergeant found a conference room in their building which met my requirements. It was in a quiet section of the building and had a table and several chairs, with a power outlet for my equipment. As I started setting up my polygraph components, Peggy and Eric came in for my briefing. The most important thing a polygraph examiner can do prior to a test is get all the facts of the crime which are available. Not only does it allow for the formulation of the proper questions, but the background will help in developing rapport with the suspect. Despite what the agents thought about the driver, I always suspected a person was guilty until they could pass my polygraph exam. It is with this lens that I viewed every person I tested.
“Alright,” I said. “What are the known facts?”
“Okay,” Eric started. “The driver’s name is Justin Levesque. He is twenty-three years old, no criminal record. The company says he lives in Rhode Island and commutes up here every day. They like the kid; said he’s from a good family.”
He paused, air quoting the words good family with his fingers. I suspected this was because of my reaction when he used the term earlier.
“Go on.”
“Both he and Martinez gave the same story. They had mechanical trouble after their last pick-up stop. They pulled over to check out the engine….”
“... Okay, hold on,” I interrupted, “Has the truck been checked out?”
“We were able to start it, but it hasn’t been checked by a mechanic yet.”
“Okay, sorry, go on.”
“When they got out of the truck, a tall Asian man with a Garda uniform approached them. He had a gun that he pointed at Levesque. The Asian man was giving orders in Spanish, and Martinez translated for him.” He paused, looking up at me.
“An Asian man speaking Spanish, got it,” I smirked.
“Yeah that’s odd.”
“Go on.”
“He ordered Levesque to drive to a deserted spot a short drive away, where he ordered Martinez to duct tape Levesque. He then ordered Martinez to unload the money off the truck. After duct taping Martinez, he fled, also taking Martinez’s gun. Once the suspect fled, Martinez and Levesque freed themselves of the duct tape and drove straight to the police station.”
“Interesting,” I said. The duct taping story bothered me, but I kept it to myself at that moment.
“What do you think?” Peggy asked.
“I think it’s fishy.”
“Agreed, but our money is on Martinez concocting this whole thing. Levesque is probably a victim in all this.”
“We’ll see,” I replied dryly.
******
Once I was ready, Eric escorted Levesque into the room and introduced me. It was already 7:00 pm and I was getting hungry. Levesque seemed nervous, but this could be chalked up to having been robbed, or maybe he was thinking of dinner as well, which became a factor later. Some degree of trepidation is to be expected from an innocent person. Once we were alone, I had him sign two forms. The first was a “consent to interview with polygraph,” which essentially advised him that he was taking the test voluntarily. The next was the standard Miranda waiver, advising him of his constitutional right to remain silent. Everyone who has watched a police show has seen this procedure before. I carefully explained to Levesque, as I do with all suspects, that he was not under arrest and he was free to go at any time.
I asked Levesque to turn off his cellphone so as not to be interrupted, and he agreed. The last thing I wanted was for Martinez, or any other possible co-conspirators, to text or call him during my interview. I wanted him isolated.
Levesque signed both forms without any hesitation. This was the first hurdle overcome that night. Without his signed consent, any confession obtained from him going forward would be inadmissible in court.
Once the paperwork was complete, I obtained background information, to include work history, relationships, and family history. This led into the substantive portion of the interview.
“Tell me, Justin,” I leaned in. “What happened? I want to hear it in your words from the beginning.”
“From when the robbery began, right?” he asked.
“No,” I calmly replied, “from the moment you woke up.”
He then recounted his day from the moment he woke up. All the details seemed clear and concise, until he got to the actual robbery. I wanted to see if his storytelling changed when discussing mundane things versus matters of importance, to establish a baseline.
His description of the robbery essentially mirrored what he had recounted to Eric and his team. A Spanish-speaking Asian man wearing a Garda shirt approached them, disarmed Martinez, forcing him to duct tape Levesque. He then duct taped Martinez and fled with the money. It was relatively uncomplicated, yet I was still troubled by the duct tape angle.
“Justin, what caused you to pull over where the robbery occurred?”
“The truck was stalling. We wanted to check it out. That’s when this guy jumped Martinez.”
“I see.”
“Alright Justin, so to be clear, you didn’t have anything to do with this robbery, and you don’t know who the robber is, correct?”
“Right.”
“Okay Justin, one last question. Is there anything else you remember that you didn’t think of previously?”
I watched as Levesque appeared to think intently.
“There is something I just remembered.”
“Go on.”
“After our last pickup, at the Rockingham Mall, I noticed a sedan shadowing us through the parking lot.”
“What color?”
“It was a dark sedan, green I believe.”
“And this is the first time you’re mentioning this?”
I knew that this development moved Levesque from the category of witness to that of suspect. If he were innocent, this would have been the first thing he would have mentioned. It was telling.
“It just came to me.”
“Okay Justin, before we go over the questions on the test, I’m going to step outside for a minute and see if there are any new developments.”
In truth, I wanted to make sure the team didn’t leave the police station, given this new development. They had been fairly certain Levesque wasn’t involved and were itching to move onto other leads. When I stepped out to the hallway, I was pleasantly surprised to see my associate Andre Khoury with the group.
“Hey guys,” I said to the group sitting in the hallway, “don’t make plans on leaving just yet. Something just came up.”
“What happened?” Eric asked.
After telling them what Levesque had just revealed, they seemed far more interested in Levesque’s polygraph exam.
“He never mentioned that,” Eric replied, troubled.
“Okay guys, I think you should order some pizza. We’re going to be here a while.”
“I’m probably going to call on you,” I said to Andre, “so stand by.”
I strode back into the conference room, more convinced that Levesque was hiding some involvement in the robbery. Levesque’s face betrayed a deep worry.
“Is there any new development?” Levesque inquired.
“Just that there is a team interviewing Martinez at the hospital. No big deal,” I said quietly. I could almost see Levesque lose some color from his face.
“Okay, so here are my two questions. First, ‘do you know who stole that money’? And second, I’ll ask you ‘were you involved in that armored car robbery?’”
“Alright,” he answered.
“You can answer both of those with a ‘no,’ correct?”
“That’s right.”
“Okay then, let’s begin.”
******
The results of Levesque’s polygraph result could not have been clearer - he was lying. The charts I collected screamed deception. The elevated heart rate and galvanic skin responses (sweat) were glaringly higher at each of the relevant questions. Staring at my computer, I double checked the data to be certain, and there was no doubt. Rather than confront Levesque immediately as I would ordinarily do, I decided to step outside once more and brief the team.
“Justin, I’m going to step outside for a minute. Just stay put for a minute alright.”
“Okay,” he answered quietly.
I stepped into the hallway again and the team watched as I approached them, smiling.
“Well?” Eric asked.
“He failed miserably,” I said flatly.
“No!” Peggy said, excitedly.
“Yes, so I’m going back into the room and interrogating him.”
“Alright,” Eric replied.
“Knock on the door when the pizza gets here,” I said, my stomach growling.
I walked into the room and Levesque had gotten paler. It appeared that the stepping-out tactic had succeeded in elevating his distress, as I had hoped. The polygraph components were still attached to his body. He looked tired and nervous, but I could tell he was far from defeated. It was going to be a long night.
“How did I do?” he asked.
“Justin,” I emphasized calmly, standing over him, “there is no doubt that there is
something you aren’t telling me.”
He sat, momentarily speechless. This was another sign that he was being deceptive. An innocent person would have balked at my comment.
“I’m sure I’ve told you everything,” he finally replied, as I detached the components from his person.
“Well, the good thing Justin, is that I think you’re a good person. I think you just made a mistake. Let’s talk about it and see if we can’t work this out.”
I pulled up a chair next to his and moved in closer.
“Are you hungry, Justin?” I asked.
“Yeah, I could eat,” he said, relaxing somewhat.
“Good, I’ve ordered us some pizza. It will be here in a bit.”
The offer of food served two purposes. First, it lowered his defenses and allowed me to establish rapport based on the concept of reciprocity. Very simply, it is the human impulse to feel indebted to someone who does us a favor. Secondly, it meant he would be less likely to ask to leave, since food was on its way.
“Alright, if I had to guess, I think that Martinez talked you into a plot, and you got in over your head.”
“No,” he said flatly.
“You probably wanted to help your family, or your girlfriend. Times are tough, Justin.”
“No,” he repeated.
“I don’t think you came up with this idea on your own.”
“I have no idea who did this,” he shrugged.
“Justin, you’re young, we all make mistakes,” I said supportively.
“I didn’t do this.”
This back and forth continued for the next two hours, during which time we took a break and ate pizza together. After making little progress, I decided to shift strategies and bring Andre into the room to help me.
“Justin, do you mind if we reenact the crime?”
“Sure,” he shrugged.
“To do that, I’m going to ask a colleague of mine to come in, to play the role of the robber.”
“Alright.”
I stepped out and waved to Andre, who was waiting in the hall.
“Justin, this is my associate, Andre.”
They exchanged handshakes.
“Okay, Andre, let’s reenact the crime as it played out. There is something that’s bothering me.”
I then explained to Andre the sequence of events as outlined by Levesque, to include how the robber forced Martinez to duct tape him, and then how the robber duct taped Martinez last. Using his finger as the “gun,” Andre forced me (as Martinez) to role play duct taping Levesque. Once that was done, I turned to Levesque.
“Now at one point, before fleeing, the robber duct tapes Martinez at gunpoint, right?”
“Right.”
“Let’s do that, Andre, duct tape me at gunpoint - remember, I’m Martinez.”
“Alright,” Andre replied.
As we roleplayed this, Andre had to put his “gun” away, in order to use both hands and duct tape me. I turned and looked at Levesque.
“Do you see the problem, Justin?”
He stared at us blankly.
“No, I don’t get it,” Levesque finally said.
“The robber would have had to put his gun down to duct tape Martinez. You can’t do that with one hand!”
“Okay, so?”
“So why wouldn’t Martinez have used that opportunity to struggle with the now disarmed robber?”
“I don’t know! Why don’t you ask Martinez?” His voice rose.
“Well Justin, I’m sure the other team is asking Martinez this very question as we speak.”
I let the statement hang in the air. There was silence for a moment while I went and reviewed some notes. Levesque could not have known that I wasn’t actually reading anything. Nor could he have known there was no other team interviewing Martinez.
******
In the realm of interrogation, there is a concept known as The Prisoner’s Dilemma. It is one of the most powerful tools an interrogator can utilize, when there are two or more conspirators involved in a crime. The technique involves separating two suspects into different interrogation rooms, which makes each wonder what his partner might be telling the police. It works especially well when there is little loyalty between suspects. I knew that Levesque had only known Martinez for two weeks, so their bond could not be that tight. In this case, Martinez was not in a separate interrogation room; he was in the hospital. But Levesque did not have enough information to call my bluff. It was possible that he was being interrogated at the hospital. I could see this concern weigh on his eyes.
After a moment passed, I looked at Andre. It was time to switch interrogators.
“Okay Justin. I’m going to step out for a minute and check on any new developments. Andre will stay and talk to you.”
This was Andre’s cue to start interrogating, while I gave the appearance of an aggressive investigation occurring outside of the room. I stepped out for several minutes, reassuring the team that we were making progress. When I reentered the room, Andre was in full swing. I sat next to Justin as Andre continued with the same themes I had tried earlier. The point was to wear down the suspect.
“Justin,” Andre intoned, “I don’t think this was your idea. You’re a good person, right?”
“Yes.”
“So, this was just a one-time mistake?”
“I didn’t do this. I’m telling you,” he pleaded.
This back and forth continued for another two hours. I could see that Levesque was starting to tire. I kept looking at Andre, encouraging him. Finally, Andre asked a fateful question.
“Justin, I’m confused about the location of this robbery. Why did it happen on that road?”
Levesque’s face became bright red.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen there!” he blurted out, as he started crying.
Andre and I looked at each other in shock and recognition of what had just occurred.
“He just confessed,” I said quietly.
I put a hand on Justin’s shoulder as he cried. Andre moved in for the kill.
“It’s okay, Justin, you’ve done the right thing.”
“It was Martinez’s idea. He started talking me into this from the first day I started working at Garda.”
“We need to document your side of the story,” Andre encouraged him, as he brought his laptop over. The goal now was a written and signed confession.
Levesque then started to describe a story of greed and intrigue.
*******
By the time I stepped back into the hallway, it was midnight. We had spent almost five hours with Levesque. Andre was in the room, taking down Levesque’s detailed confession, but I had heard what was being documented. There was an excitement with the team when I emerged, despite the late hour.
“We got it!” I exclaimed.
“A confession?” one of the team asked.
“Yes, complete.”
“Martinez?” Eric asked
“Yes, he was behind it. He had started working on Levesque from his first day on the job. The third man is Martinez’s cousin, a man named Wille. It turns out that this was a surprise to Levesque. Martinez never told him about Willie in the planning phase. He had promised Levesque they would split the money in half. Willie changed that, so it would be a three-way split, which Justin didn’t appreciate. He’s with Andre right now, writing it all down. Once we have it signed, we’ll give it to you.”
“That’s fantastic,” Peggy exclaimed.
“We’re going to pay Martinez a visit.” Eric said.
“We’ll have that confession for you shortly. Stand by.”
With that, I returned to the room and observed as Andre and Levesque put the finishing touches on the confession, which I witnessed him sign. Sometime around 12:30 am, Andre and I emerged from the room, a two-page confession in hand. Eric and another Agent then entered the room and arrested Levesque.
*****
Martinez was still resting nicely in his hospital bed, feigning illness, when the team approached him at around 1:00 am. I was on my way home, exhausted yet exhilarated. The agents later described the moment as priceless. They showed him Levesque’s confession and he cracked immediately. He told the team where his cousin, Willie Vazquez, could be found: a third floor unit in Lawrence, MA. He was arrested immediately, ending his charade at the hospital.
The team arrived at the Lawrence triple decker (photo below) in full force. It turned out to be unnecessary. Willie Vazquez opened the door and saw an army of police and FBI agents. He gave the team a what took you so long look. He opened the door wide.
“The money is over here,” he said, defeated, escorting them to a back bedroom.
He showed the agents where the money was stashed - inside a mattress (photo below). They also retrieved the Garda shirt Vazquez had used during the “robbery” and the gun which Martinez claimed was stolen from him. The agents stacked the cash on a table (photo below) which was counted, for a total of $407,000, plus an envelope with several thousands of dollars in checks.
Next to the gun and the uniform, on the floor, was the only thing they had been able to spend the money on - a bottle of Hennessey, which Vazquez had purchased to celebrate their successful robbery. They never got to drink it.
*****
Several weeks later, Andre and I were subpoenaed to testify in Lawrence District Court in the matter of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts vs. Justin Levesque. Martinez and Vazquez had agreed to cooperate and agreed to a plea deal with the State, the substance of which was still pending. Levesque, on the other hand, was from a “good family” and decided to fight the charges. I recall Levesque’s parents in the gallery during the hearing. They appeared to believe their son was innocent by the way they were supporting him, although I can never know what they were thinking.
In cases where a suspect has confessed, the defense’s only recourse is to try and throw the confession out in a pre-trial hearing. Such was the nature of our appearance in court. The defense attorney Levesque’s family hired attempted to discredit the manner in which the confession was obtained. He tried to convince the court that the confession was obtained by coercion or was not voluntary. He failed.
The court ruled that the confession was voluntarily obtained and valid. All the consent forms, signed by Levesque, were in order. Once this ruling went in the government’s favor, Levesque had no real option other than to cooperate for a reduced sentence.
Once my part of the job is over, I never obsess over the punishment a suspect should receive. It is not my concern and I was unaware of what sentence Levesque received until researching it for this book. Two things should be considered when assessing the plea arrangement. First, Levesque was a first-time offender. Secondly, he never enjoyed any of the spoils of the robbery.
On December 27th, 2011, Levesque pleaded guilty to the following counts:
Larceny of property over $250
Conspiracy to commit a felony
False report to police
Obstruction of justice
He was sentenced to 21 months in prison with 3 years of probation.
Photos
Martinez Residence
Money found stuffed in mattress
Money on table - $407,000 in cash (plus thousands in checks)
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