'It's easier than working for it'

A one-man crime wave plagued Whangarei for more than 10 years. Now he's done his time, he shares his thoughts with STEPHEN COOK.

The modus operandi was disarmingly simple: get in, get out and get everything you can. And for 10 years 2stroke - as he was known to his mates - did just that, fleecing the masses in a staggering 1800 burglaries around suburban Whangarei.

Though burglary is often an opportunistic crime, for this one man crime-wave every assault was meticulously planned.

He would cruise the streets looking for easy targets, sometimes using decoys to monitor the owners' movements weeks before a strike. He would note an open window, an unlocked door, or the tell-tale clues no one was home - a neglected section, an overflowing letterbox.

Good locks, strong doors, a basic alarm system and a howling Rottweiler were no deterrents. Once inside, he would scope the place, rifling through drawers, under beds and in cupboards for anything of value.

And as a final indignity he would raid the fruit bowl, before leaving his calling card: a banana skin in the kitchen sink.

He knew the items that made money and the ones that didn't and often stole to order. The motivation? Money. The eventual consequence? Prison.

And the victims? 2stroke says there are almost too many to count. He has little sympathy for them. Houses, he reckons, are there to be robbed.

"Most of these people have insurance. They don't lose out. It's a win-win situation," he says.

"You've got to make a living somehow."

Standing barely 1.65m in his mustard-coloured ensemble, 2stroke wouldn't look out of place behind the counter of Hallensteins or Hannahs. For a career criminal he is surprisingly clean-cut and mild-mannered: "Never give people a chance to think you're a bad-looking bugger. Suspicious-looking burglars always get caught," he says.

But behind the baseball cap and bravado skulks a quite different character: a bundle of anger, a career thief who has been on the take for most of his life.

"I suppose that's just the way life has turned out. Taking was always easier than working for it," he says.

His first serious foray into crime was after a brief spell as a farmhand. There he learned the value of and demand for farm chemicals. Before long he was stripping cowsheds of bloat oil, drench and diesel and peddling them to the highest bidder.

"It was so easy. Sure there were risks but the returns were worth it."

Now there was no turning back. It was time to up the stakes.

So 2stroke invested in a police scanner, moved into town and began stripping homes, hawking the proceeds at a local pub. He can't remember his first house burglary. There were so many, he says.

"All I recall is kicking the front door and barging on in. It was a thrill."

For a year he operated with virtual impunity, concentrating largely on unoccupied homes with the easiest access, the greatest amount of cover, and the best escape routes.

Metal windows with plastic latches, sliding glass doors without a wooden dowel or stick in the track and garage doors were all easy points of access. Armed with ordinary household tools such as a screwdriver, pliers and a small hammer, he would smash his way in and simply take what he wanted.

Some homeowners made his job easier than usual, hiding keys under the mat or above the door frame. "Unbelievable, I know. People can be so dumb. It's like they were inviting me in."

But even the most security-conscious homeowners were not safe from 2stroke. Dogs, while an unwelcome distraction, were no obstacle. In his back pocket he would always carry a 500g porterhouse steak to keep barking canines at bay and ensure easy unrestricted access through either the front or rear of the property. Once inside, he would ensure there were at least two open exits so he could make a speedy getaway.

He would then scope the house, looking for anything that would fit in a suitcase - CDs, alcohol, food, money, electronic appliances. But money was the main incentive and he found lots of it. He never worked in the weekends or in the rain; most people were home at the weekend, and sodden goods were of little value.

He had the odd close shave, but quick wits always saved him.

"I remember smashing a window to get into a house and alerting the neighbour. So I yelled, 'Sorry, Nana, I broke your window' and the neighbour, thinking I was a relative, left me to get on with it."

He liked to target the rich, "those people who could afford it", but generally never made much distinction. If they had a television, a stereo or video it was likely to be insured. The homeowner could replace it and the only loser was the insurance company. That was his reasoning anyway.

He went through strange periods of introspection, especially if his victims were elderly or poor. He recalls one occasion where he had loaded up his suitcase with trinkets, jewellery and money, only to discover the owner was a Salvation Army worker. He claims he put everything back and disappeared quietly out the back door.

He says he never set out to rip off anyone who couldn't afford it. "I never trashed a house or deliberately broke things. That's just rude. I was a good burglar.

"I only ever operated during the day. Anyone who does a night burglary is lower than low. That's home invasion ... and I'm not into that."

In the halcyon days, 2stroke was hitting five to eight houses a day. The proceeds were enormous and the buyers willing.

"I'd just go from house to house, taking whatever I could. Then it'd be down to the pub and I'd flick the stuff for whatever I could get.

"No one asked any questions. They were just happy getting a cheap watch or a cut-price bottle of booze.

"Those people never saw themselves as criminals. Strange that, I thought."

Before long business was booming. 2stroke had to expand. He began robbing cars to take with him on the job. He was now stealing to order.

"It just made sense. Why have all this stuff I can't get rid of? There were always willing buyers. And with the car, once I had established there was no one home, I could go in, take what I like, fill up the boot and drive on off.

"After a couple of burglaries, I'd dump the car. It was a rush, especially as I was doing so many. You really begin to push your luck."

That luck was about to run out. Cockiness, flawed assumptions and a fatal miscalculation conspired to bring down 2stroke at the height of his criminal career. To put it simply, he got casual.

Rather than getting rid of the contraband, he began storing it at home. When he was reported to police after being seen breaking into a house, he was greeted at home with a search warrant. Police found video recorders, televisions and other household items and charged him with 15 counts of burglary.

2stroke reckons he got off lightly: "I'd done 1800 burglaries and only got nabbed for 15." He admitted the charges and, on November 5, 1994, was sentenced to 2 1/2 years in prison. He says it was the darkest day of his life. 2stroke will never forget the fear, the isolation - and at times sheer panic.

"When I got there and went through those big steel gates, I thought, 'Oh my God, what have I done?"'

It should have been the reality check he needed. But he soon adapted to his new environment and became a favourite of the other inmates. With his background in burglary, he says he was able to help other prisoners smuggle in drugs, booze ... "anything they needed".

"I ended up working outside the prison gates so was able to smuggle in all sorts of shit. I became a real asset to certain people."

Jail did little to help 2stroke - all it did was make him a better burglar, he says.

"I learnt all sorts of things from the others doing time. It turned out to be one big education. I left prison with a new skill-set.

After serving 13 months of his 2 1/2-year sentence, 2stroke was released from prison, looking for a fresh start.

After being turned down for several jobs, he was eventually hired by a video store. The owners took the ex-con under their wing. It was a decision they would regret.

On a wet Queen's Birthday weekend, armed with the security codes to the premises, he hit the place under the cover of darkness, taking thousands from the safe.

With no sign of forced entry, it didn't take long to work out who was responsible. 2stroke was charged with burglary and jailed for a further 13 months.

"The first time it was all new. This time it was just really horrible. I was over prison by that time"

Since his release, 2stroke has managed to stay clean. While he can't rule out returning to his old ways, he hopes to find a new purpose in life.

What led 2stroke into a life of crime?

He doesn't want to make excuses, but says as a child life was tough. Born to a mother struggling to cope with two intellectually handicapped siblings and an alcoholic father who abandoned the brood, 2stroke says he felt unwanted, lonely and at times totally vulnerable.

To others he appeared just another geeky kid wandering awkwardly through childhood. But by the age of 5 he was demonstrating a cunning far beyond his delicate years. Those first days at school can be a tear-stained nightmare for many children, but for 2stroke it was a chance to torment his teachers - and rob his classmates.

Like the old proverb, "opportunity makes the thief", 2stroke would target lunchboxes and lockers while his schoolmates were in class, often getting away with food, clothing and hundreds of dollars in cash destined for school savings books.

"I'd just pick the locks and steal the money. I didn't see anything wrong with it," he recalled.

By 8 he graduated from petty crime at school to full-scale shoplifting. He targeted dairies with a simple strategy. His friends would distract the shopkeeper while 2stroke scanned the shelves, filling his schoolbag with lollies, chips, fizzy drinks and comics.

The thrill, he remembers, was exhilarating, like taking candy from a baby. But before long one of the shopkeepers became suspicious and reported 2stroke to the police. This was his first run-in with the law.

"What could they do? I was just a kid who didn't know any better. They could hardly lock me up. I had no fear of the cops."

2stroke's mother was less forgiving. No longer could she cope with the demands of two handicapped children and a wayward son, so she booted him out. He was just 9. For the next few years he was shuttled between foster homes and relatives, never settling long enough in one place to develop any sort of structure to his life.

Sometimes when he looks back, he thinks the happiest part was right at the start when the family was together. "Nine to 15 was just a nightmare. I hated my life. I hated the fact my mother had kicked me out. I was carrying a lot of sadness.

"Like most kids, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I had no real schooling, no prospects at all."

Feared and reviled by classmates and teachers, 2stroke quit school at 14. It didn't take him long to choose his career path. "I suppose I just fell into it. I'd been doing it so long. I really feel though now it's time to change, time to try and make something of myself."

2stroke says with his background of offending he would be an asset to any security firm in Whangarei. It's the old scenario of poacher-turned-gamekeeper, but why should anyone trust him?

"I can't say I've completely reformed. You can really never say never. But I was a good burglar. And I reckon I could turn those skills to good use if someone decided to give me a chance.

"Whether or not they will, who knows.

"I suppose only time will tell. And I've got plenty of that at the moment."