This episode is brought to you by Dashlane; Try Dashlane Premium free for 30 days at www.dashlane.com/infographics
and never forget another password and keep all your online accounts secure!
It’s November 7, 2000.
On the south bank of the Thames in London’s Royal Borough of Greenwich, The Millennium
Dome, a huge building that looks like an overturned pasta strainer, is host to an under-performing
expo about modern life's wonders in celebration of the year 2000.
Outside the building, and beyond a construction fence, a crew of four professional thieves
are crammed into a mid-size earth mover called a JCB, retrofitted to hold extra passengers.
At 9:34 am, the digger bashes its way through the fence, into a large metal shutter, and
into the vast, tent-like structure.
Inside, there’s a circular vault and showroom built to house the goods these raiders are
after.
The De Beers Millennium Diamonds, eleven spectacular blue and one magnificent giant white stone,
the Millennium Star, are all considered especially beautiful, and incredibly valuable.
The collection is part of a major marketing campaign by De Beers.
As it would turn out, they would get their money’s worth.
Three of the team members, wearing gas masks, dart toward the diamond exhibit.
Two of the thieves enter the chamber, while a third stays at the exhibit entrance.
He drops a smoke canister to create confusion.
Inside the vault, one of the criminals uses a Hilti nail gun to penetrate the glass cylinder
surrounding the largest of the stones, the Millennium Star.
Once it’s weakened, his partner takes over with a sledgehammer.
As planned, they’re able to make a hole of sufficient size to get at the diamond in
under a minute.
The nail gun operator moves on to get at the rest of the diamonds.
If things continue as they’ve planned, their next sequence of moves will be to cut the
stones free from their fixtures with bolt cutters, spray ammonia around to destroy DNA
evidence, duck back in the JCB and out of the Millenium Dome, jump into a getaway speedboat,
cross the Thames, hop into a van with a waiting driver, drive back across the river, meet
up with a mysterious buyer at a 15th-century tavern, and sell the rocks.
A lovely dream.
The purported ringleader of the gang was one Ray Betson, age 39.
He was a veteran criminal with a largely uneventful career of check fraud and illegal cigarette
sales.
A recent upswing in policing had recently cost Betson a substantial amount of product,
and he was eager to get back on solid footing.
More than that, he hoped to move his family to Spain's Costa del Sol, where some of the
UK's most successful criminals had established an expat community.
Now Betson, a stranger to armed robbery, was at the center of the world's would-be biggest
diamond heist.
These biographical details about Betson, and most of the backstory we’re recounting are
from Kris Hollington’s deeply sourced book, Diamond Geezers: The Inside Story of the Crime
of the Millennium, which includes direct interviews with several of the “blaggers”--Cockney
for crooks.
Betson claims that his brother-in-law, Michael Waring, a uniformed police officer assigned
to routine patrol the area around the Millennium Dome, approached him about the plot.
Waring, under oath, categorically denied any involvement of any kind.
The facts notwithstanding, in Betson's version of events, Waring introduced him to the plan's
actual mastermind, a figure known only as Tony.
Tony, if he existed, had the lowest profile of anyone on the crew.
According to Betson, Tony had been dismissed earlier in the year from a job working security
at the Dome, which was handled by a private firm called Group 4.
Tony, in turn, was connected to a circle of insiders who could grease the way in for a
smash-and-grab.
Betson, convinced that the plan was worth exploring, recruited the rest of the team.
First up was a veteran from the old days of London's underworld.
At age 56, Terry Millman had decades of experience in armed robbery, albeit without stellar results.
And he was dying, painfully, of stomach cancer.
This would be the proverbial one last job, a thrill, maybe a legacy.
Next was William Cockram, a longtime friend of Betson's who worked in construction.
Cockram had a few marks on his record for small-time offenses, but like Betson, had
never been anywhere near a caper like this one.
Aldo Ciarrocchi (cha-ROACH) was another odd choice for the gang.
Younger than the rest, he'd done time for shoplifting, and that was it.
He was now struggling to establish himself in real estate, but convinced that he needed
to keep up an expensive lifestyle to hold onto his new girlfriend, an American student
and model.
Millman, as it turns out, had around the same time been working as part of a larger crew
on another heist.
This caper took place on July 7, 2000, at the village of Aylesford in Kent County, southeast
of London.
The robbers blocked the path of an armored truck with their Transit van, and threatened
the drivers with sawed-off shotguns.
To get at the cash inside the vehicle, the gang had outfitted a large truck with a battering
ram, hidden under some fir trees.
The idea was to bash the armored car, and then attach the battered doors to the big
rig and pull them off.
The rig plowed backwards into the armored car, doing some damage.
Additional ramming was needed, and there wouldn't be any.
A police car made it to the scene in good time.
The robbers gave up and headed back to their van, which whisked them away to their speedboat
on the River Medway.
It seemed like a clean getaway.
But even if the evidence from the failed job didn't bring implicate everyone, at least
one member of the crew, Lee Wenham, was already under surveillance for other suspected crimes.
So when Betson and Millman arrived for a meeting at the Wenhams' horse farm in Kent, they were
being watched.
The superintendent of Kent's Serious Crimes Unit had recognized one of the vans at the
Aylesford robbery attempt as a vehicle on the Wenhams' farm.
Kent police learned of a crime earlier in the year, within London proper, that had used
almost the same method.
They shared their intelligence with colleagues at London's Metropolitan Police, often known
as Scotland Yard, or just the Met, who in turn reported Wenham apparently casing the
Millennium Dome.
The previously untargeted Betson was now put under constant surveillance.
For months the watching continued.
Lee Wenham started modifying the JCB earth mover.
Along with another conspirator, named James Hurley, they went for a ride on a speedboat.
That suggested the M.O. for whatever they were planning would be similar to the earlier
security truck raids.
Betson and Cockram also paid a visit to the Dome, with Betson's wife and kids along for
the ride.
The suspected criminals paid special attention to the vault for the De Beers diamond collection,
and captured video footage of the building's layout.
The impression Betson came away with was consistent with the intel he'd allegedly received from
Tony: the place had terrible security.
Both the Group 4 security service and De Beers itself grew relaxed in their procedures to
guard the what was the most remarkable collection in the 100-year-plus history of the diamond
giant.
Although the huge and dazzling Millennium Star was the show's centerpiece, its co-stars
were stunning as well.
The largest among the blue stones in the Millennium Collection was the Heart of Eternity, named
for its shape, weighing 27.64 carats, with the specific color class of "fancy vivid blue,"
a category shared by only one percent of the world's blue diamonds.
Ranked among the world's most valuable diamonds, the value of the Heart of Eternity alone is
well into the tens of millions of dollars if it were auctioned today.
And of course, it wasn't alone.
All told, the blue diamonds in the Millennium show weighed in at 113 carats, or 22.6 grams.
But the main attraction was bigger than all the other diamonds put together.
The Millennium Star, a perfectly colorless, internally and externally flawless, pear-shaped
diamond, weighs 203.04 carats—roughly as much as a golf ball.
The details of its discovery are fuzzy, and there are differing accounts.
De Beers claimed that the circumstances made it impossible to trace the exact place and
date of discovery, but that it was unearthed sometime around 1990–possibly 1992–in
what’s now the Democratic Republic of the Congo, then called Zaire, near the city of
Mbuji-Mayi (em-BOO-jee MAH-yee), the center of the country's diamond mining operations.
At 777 carats, the raw stone ranks among the biggest diamonds ever discovered.
De Beers balked at putting a price tag on the collection.
Court records referred to a figure of £200 million.
A pretty good score.
But not as spectacular as it sounds.
The problem with diamond theft is that it's really hard to fence the ice once you've got
it.
So the actual thieves are selling something that’s already gone way down in value.
Each conspirator was to receive a share of a £500,000 total payout–nothing like what
the jewels would see at auction.
The Flying Squad was the Met's anti-robbery team.
The name has nothing to do with aircraft—it just means that they patrolled all of Greater
London, instead of a single area.
When Detective Superintendent Jon Shatford, Operational Head of Flying Squad, learned
of the possibility of a Dome robbery in late August, he initiated the largest take-down
in the unit’s history: Operation Magician.
Including court costs, the operation would ultimately run a tab of £3.5 million.
There was to be massive backup for the arrest attempt.
Shatford believed that the gang would be heavily armed, which was actually incorrect.
The thieves specifically chose not to carry guns.
The Flying Squad's best clue was the speedboat.
A getaway from the Millennium Dome by boat could only work at the highest tides.
So on the day of the next peak tide, October 6, beginning at 3:00 am, 200 police officers,
made up of the Flying Squad, firearms experts, three police boats on the Thames, and two
reconnaissance helicopters make their way to various positions in and around the Dome.
Some officers are hidden behind a fake wall; others are dressed as Dome maintenance crew,
with automatic weapons hidden in trash bags and bins.
Dawn breaks.
At 9:30 am, the De Beers vault opens.
And then–nothing.
The gang’s boat won’t start.
There was no plan B, so that’s it for the day.
Betson calls off the job, and the two vans and the earth mover never arrive at the Dome.
Shatford needs the heist to take place.
There’s nothing serious to charge the conspirators with unless they’re actually caught stealing.
Fortunately for Shatford, the gang is determined.
The Met didn't have the intel to know it, but the crew was going to regroup and try
again, at what they predicted would be the next tidal maximum for November 6.
And so: take two.
November 6, 3:00 am.
Exactly the same setup for the police.
The gang has had one personnel change: James Hurley has bowed out, moving to Costa del
Sol.
In his place, the diminutive, affable, but cash-strapped Kevin Meredith would be skipper.
But as showtime approached, Meredith noticed that the tide wouldn't be at full height.
Again, the job was called off.
Another frustrating false alarm for the police.
But they also realized the error in tidal predictions, and so would get another try
to pull off Operation Magician the following day.
November 7.
Police in place.
The tide is high.
Two vans and the JCB earth mover make their way toward the Dome, with one extra crew member
this time.
Robert "Bob the Builder" Adams, scion of one of Britain's most famous crime families, was
a good choice to swing a sledgehammer.
At 9:30 they're ready to go, except for one thing.
Unlike every other time they'd been there, the aluminum shutter at their chosen entrance
is closed.
At 9:34, Betson decides to just plow ahead, first knocking through the fence as planned,
then bashing into the shutter, injuring his face, and on into the clear plastic doors.
This makes an incredible noise that startles the few bystanders already visiting the exhibition.
It’s also a surprise to the police team, who had been expecting the crew to enter the
building on foot.
Two disguised officers duck out of the way.
Cockram and Adams run into the vault.
Ciarrocchi follows behind and creates the smoke screen.
In the vault, the nail gunning and sledgehammer swinging commence.
But, before the thieves could even snatch the jewels, the tip of the huge sting operation
descends upon them.
Cops outnumber the criminals at the scene, 40 to one.
Inside the vault, police throw stun grenades.
One of the thieves is knocked unconscious; the other is quickly tackled without resistance.
Had the thieves managed the impossible task of avoiding the onslaught, there was no getaway
vehicle waiting for them.
Meredith, in the speedboat, has become confused and shows up at the wrong dock.
The police craft block him in at the alternative location.
Meanwhile, officers wrest Betson from the JCB and pin him to the ground, along with
Ciarrocchi.
In addition to actual Dome employees, 62 visitors were already in attendance for the day, including
a group of schoolchildren.
Police did see to it that the kids were nowhere near the action, but to maintain their cover,
the other attendees, and the civilian staff, were oblivious until the action started.
None of the bystanders were harmed, although considering the firepower the police had on
hand, that doesn’t seem like a foregone conclusion.
As the arrest winds down, 90 contestants from the upcoming Miss World pageant are gathering
nearby; they are, likewise, unaffected by the commotion.
One bit of irony: sadly for the would-be thieves, the real diamonds weren't even in the building–they’d
been removed to De Beers’ nearby, heavily guarded office.
The crooks had been laboring to get at a set of fakes.
For his part, the veteran robber Millman was waiting across the Thames, in the getaway
van.
But he was spotted.
When police told him to get out of the car, he asked if he might finish his tea first.
The driver of the second van got away.
According to Betson, that had been Tony, and he'd been allowed to escape.
In Betson's theory, the entire job had been a trap.
His brother-in-law, PC Waring, and Tony were both working with the Flying Squad to set
up some troublesome criminals, and nab some great publicity.
It's not as wild an accusation as it sounds.
Flying Squad had a history of questionable actions.
But there are easier ways to set someone up than planning the world's largest diamond
heist.
There's no evidence that Waring was in any way a corrupt cop, and there's no evidence
that Tony ever walked the face of the earth.
Millman died, succumbing to cancer, before the trial date.
Betson and Cockram each got eighteen years.
Ciarrocchi and Adams, 15.
Meredith got five years, reflecting the fact that he wasn't in the Dome during the break-in,
and therefore had no chance to assault or threaten anyone inside.
Lee Wenham, who had retrofitted the earth mover, was tried separately, and received
a total of 13 years for both the Millennium and the Aylesford jobs.
The Flying Squad sought to beef up Betson’s and Cockram’s resumes, speculating that
they were tied to several earlier armed robberies.
Naturally, their own testimony contained nothing to corroborate those claims.
It’s not impossible, but there’s no proof that Betson and his friend were anything other
than novices at big league heists.
And if there was no Tony, Betson would have needed some other associate to help move the
diamonds.
Police came to suspect that James Hurley, the swapped-out boat pilot who fled to Spain,
was the actual ringleader of the operation.
Costa del Sol, with its rich stratum of British criminals, might have presented an opportune
network to find a fence.
Russia would likely have been the destination for the would-be buyer.
In his book Diamond Geezers, Hollington notes the gang’s sophisticated radio equipment.
He suggests that there was a major crime boss behind the scenes, but stops short of naming
his suspected mastermind.
And neither Betson nor of any of his partners betrayed any knowledge of a kingpin.
And so, like Millennium Star itself, the origin of the Millenium Diamond raid remains a mystery.
Jewelry heists and robbing banks may have been the preferred schemes of robbers twenty
years ago, today though, the average person has much more to fear from data leaks and
online account compromisation.
You can rest easy though, as long as you have Dashlane that is.
Dashlane is the one and only tool you need to keep your personal info and digital accounts
safe and secure.
They even offer monitoring services that will immediately notify you if it finds any personal
information for sale on an online marketplace, so you can take steps to protect yourself
right away!
Don’t be like millions of victims every day, get Dashlane and keep your digital life
secure right now!
Head on over to www.dashlane.com/infographics for a free 30 day trial, and if you use the
coupon code ‘infographics’ you can get 10% off a premium subscription today!
What do you think it would take to pull off a world record heist?
Let us know in the comments.
Also, be sure to check out our other video called How The Biggest Diamond Vault Heist
Of The Century Happened!
Thanks for watching, and, as always, don’t forget to like, share, and subscribe.
See you next time!