The Case of the Vulnerable Bank

When Mark visits a bank, he probably sees things differently than you do.

You see doors, he sees escape routes. You see a customer line, he sees potential witnesses. You see a cash drawer, he looks for a secret door that might hold marked bills.

Mark acquired his expert’s eye during years of dishonest work. He is a convicted bank robber. And according to federal parole officers, he was a pretty skilled one.

He has not, he said, pulled a heist since 1991, when he was arrested and charged with robbing four banks in Southern California. He plea-bargained it down to two, served four years in federal prison and since his release has worked as an automobile mechanic.

But old habits die hard.

“I can’t help but look around,” said Mark as he walked through the parking lot of a bank branch in the San Fernando Valley. This bank is, according to FBI officials, one of the most robbery-plagued in the region, having been hit by bandits four times in less than a year.

In an effort to determine why this particular branch has been so popular with robbers, or why many banks attract robbers repeatedly while others go unmolested, we asked Mark for his educated opinion.

Is it just coincidence or are there factors that lure robbers to this particular branch?

It was not, for him, a difficult task. This is a bank that screams, “Rob me!”

As he approached the building, he paused to take in the scene as if he were sizing up an old acquaintance.

“I’ve been here before,” Mark realized.

Not to actually rob the bank, he quickly added, but to case it as a possible target. Before he was caught and sent to prison, he spent many days outside this branch, observing the flow of traffic, the layout of the building, the habits of security guards and the neighborhood.

Part of what makes this branch a repeat victim, he said, is the location, even though it’s not freeway-close, something many crooks look for.

Mark belongs to another school of getaway artists, those who prefer a maze of residential streets with no cul-de-sacs and many opportunities to change direction.

“You see all those side streets?” he asked, pointing to a densely populated neighborhood near the bank. “You can get lost in there.”

The surrounding neighborhood, made up of neat but modest homes, also contributes to the bank being a target. This is because, he said, people in lower-income areas, particularly Latino neighborhoods, are more likely to do cash transactions at the bank rather than deal with checking accounts or credit cards.

“Lot of money going through those drawers,” he said, gesturing toward the bank. “You try and cash a $1,000 check in most banks, the teller has to lock the drawer and go get the cash. In this bank, a teller could probably take a $2,000 check, no problem.”

Off to one side of the bank, at least a couple of dozen feet from the parking lot entrance, stood a uniformed guard. He was talking to a man dressed in street clothes, but Mark quickly spotted a walkie-talkie stuffed into the man’s back pocket.

“He’s a guard, too,” Mark said. “But they’re too far from the door.”

Entering the bank, Mark’s eyes did a practiced scan. He pointed out the security TV cameras hanging from above, including some I never would have noticed.

He’s a little sensitive about cameras. It was a picture taken by a bank camera that ended his robbery career when it was published in The Times. Mark’s father spotted it and turned him in.

A bullet-resistant see-through barrier, from the teller counter to the ceiling, had been installed in this bank to discourage robberies.

No problem, Mark said.

Just then, a bank employee walked in front of us and up to a door leading to the teller area. She signaled to an employee behind the barrier.

“Watch the door,” Mark said.

A buzzer went off releasing the lock in the door. The woman swung it open and walked straight in without checking behind her. A few seconds later, the door clicked shut.

“We had plenty of time to grab the door before it closed,” Mark said. “We’ve been here less than two minutes and already we have access to [the cash area] behind the glass.”

Mark shook his head with disdain.

“Bank managers should be telling their people. If she would have only taken a second to look behind her, she would have seen us standing there. Then when she went in, she should have closed the door behind her.”

Also, he said, bank employees should be on the lookout for anything unusual. We stood near the doorway of the bank for several minutes, talking. He openly pointed to various security devices he spotted, and I took notes as he did.

But no one even approached us.

Back in the parking lot, the guards were still standing in the shade as we left the bank. Mark and I stood for another moment, talking as he scanned the bank’s rear wall. “No cameras outside that I can see,” he said.

An important lack, he said. It’s the outside cameras that might pick up a robber stripping off a disguise and get the license plate number on the getaway car.

The guards did not approach.

I waved at one and asked, “Staying in the shade today?”

“Trying to,” replied the friendly guard.

Mark and I made our way back to the car. He said that years ago, when he first looked this bank over, despite all its attractive features, he decided against trying to rob it for two reasons.

First, it has a steady flow of customers and often gets crowded, which can spell trouble for his style of doing business. His MO was to stand in line with other customers, and then, when called to a teller, quietly show a gun and demand money.

“I did not want to make a scene,” he said.

Also, while casing the bank, sitting outside in a car equipped with a police scanner, he was worried by the number of police cars passing by, an indication that the street is used by many cops going to and from their patrol areas.

“Just too many people, too many police cars in the neighborhood,” Mark said.

But would the bank’s security measures have stopped him?

He smiled.

“They should hire guys like me,” Mark said, “to tell them what they are doing wrong.”