Welcome to Unexplained Extra with me Richard McClain Smith, where for the weeks in between episodes, we look at stories and ideas that, for one reason or other, didn't make it into the previous show. In last week's episode, A Story of Ice and Fire, we explored the haunting tale of the unknown woman whose burned body was found in the mountains on the outskirts of Bergen and West Norway
in November nineteen seventy. Though the case was well documented at the time, it was largely thanks to the tireless work of a team from Norway's public broadcaster NRK, led by journalist married Hegroff, that this story was brought back into the public eye. You can read more about their twenty sixteen investigation into the case on NRK's website NRK dot No, but also so through a podcast of their own titled Death in IDs Valley, which was released in
twenty eighteen. As part of their investigation, a more lifelike compositate with the woman's face was released alongside a renewed request of information from inter Pole. Though it failed to solve the mystery, it did encourage one man from the commune of fall Back in northeastern France to come forward
with an intriguing story. The man claimed that back in nineteen seventy, when he was twenty two years old, he embarked on a sum of romance with the unknown woman, who he recognized from the composite image, only months before her death. He even produced a photo of her to prove it, which many believe is indeed the woman in question, often referred to as the Isdall woman, He claimed she had a Bulkan accent and was very secretive about her life.
What she did apparently reveal, however, was that she had several papers that enabled her to travel freely between East and West Germany. The man also claimed to have seen numerous whigs inside one of the suitcases she was traveling. With the strangeness of it all had even prompted him to consider calling the police, believing that she might be a spy, only to decide against it at the last minute. However,
her true identity remains elusive. There is an inevitable fascination with the unidentified, whose identities we feel almost obligated to uncover, whether it be to help solve a potential crime that has been committed against them on their behalf, or simply because we think it might honor them in some way
to not let their names be forgotten. And yet, as in the case of the isdul woman, when someone seems to work so hard to maintain their anonymity, it could be argued that retaining their anonymity at all costs was what they might have preferred. All of which brings to
mind one especially strange story about an unknown individual. It was just approaching three pm on May tenth, nineteen seventy three, on a bright but chilly spring day in the quiet town of Canora and Southern Canada, when a man walked into the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce on Main Street, about five foot four in height and dressed in a pink plaid bush jacket. It was hard to see much of his face other than the sprawling red beard under the small checkered for Dora that he pulled tightly over
his head. Bank manager our Reid was busy on a call when the man, who had a large duffel bag slung over one arm and a satchel over the other, walked straight past the queue of people outside his office and plumped himself down in the chair opposite his desk. Despite hour's protestations that he was busy, the man refused to budge. When now asked him what he wanted. He pointed to a pistol peeking out of his top pocket and said calmly to the startled manager that he wanted
all the money in the bank. The man then told Reid to call the local police and inform them that a robbery was taking place. A few minutes later, Constable Bill Grinnell, Corporal John Letchkin, Inspector Walter my Callisian, and Corporal Norm Baxter converged at the bank to find a steady stream of people hastily leaving the building. The robber
had told them all to evacuate the premises. Unsure what to do next, the four law enforcement officials stepped inside the bank to find the robber, who by now had pulled a silk stocking over his head, standing behind one of the counters alongside al Reid with some kind of contraption in his hands. The man addressed the police and invited them one at a time to look inside his satchel,
which he'd placed on top of the counter. As they each approached to take a look, he explained that What he had in his hand was a dead man's switch, which, as the officers soon realized, was wied up to not only a detonation device inside the bag, but also the six sticks of dynamite next to it, enough to blow them all up in an instant and probably take the
bank down with them. As customers and staff from the bank streamed into nearby bars and restaurants, it wasn't long before word got round that a robbery was taking place on Main Street. Dennis Belleville, the manager of the local radio station c j r L, just so happened to be walking down the street when he saw the stream of people fleeing the building and the police turning up.
Having realized what was happening, he ran immediately to the radio's offices, only a few buildings down, and gathered his team to discuss what they should do about it. Minutes later, the crew were busy threading cables through rooms as two of the station's reporters, John Berry and Chris Paulson, took up positions leaning out of two second floor windows in order to commentate live on the drama unfolding below them. Back inside the bank, with the robber having ordered three
of the police to leave the building. Only he Al Reid and Corporal Letchkin remained. With the dead man's trigger clutched tightly in the robber's hand. The other men could only watch in horror as he casually transferred it from his hand to his mouth so he could toss the duffel bag to Corporal Letchkin. Then grabbing the trigger with his hand again, he ordered him to empty the cash draws into it. Then, turning to read, he told him
to open the vault. When the bank manager realized with terror that he needed a second code to open it, which he didn't have access to, there was a temp standoff as Reid was forced to call up a colleague to procure it, after which he was eventually able to open it, and moments later he and the robber were inside, emptying out the contents of its numerous cash boxes. Once he'd gathered everything he needed, the robber ordered Letchkin out of the premises and set about planning his next move.
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percent discount. Visit Sunday Scaris dot com and use my promo code unexplained for your discount. That's promo code unexplained for twenty five percent off at Sunday Scaris dot Com. Officer Don Millard arrived at the Canora Police Station ready for the evening shift, just in time to hear the station Chief Charles Engstrom, relaying the robber's latest demands to
all those on duty at the time. As Engstrom explained, the man was armed with at least two guns and a bag full of dynamite, and had requested a driver and pick up truck to pick him up from the bank and take him to an as yet undecided location. Engstrom wanted to know if anyone was willing to volunteer to be the driver. Millard didn't hesitate to raise his hand.
A short time later, after a green Dodge was delivered to the police station, Millard, after a quick stop off to change into civilian clothes, was on his way to Main Street to rendezvous with the robber. When he arrived, a crowd of nearly a thousand people ball had gathered in the freezing cold, held back by two police lines at the north and south end of the road. Parking the truck outside Woolworth's a few doors from the bank,
Millard surveyed the scene. Two sets of officers with guns pointed at the bank, were crouched down behind two cruisers parked each side of the building, while opposite the bank a few doors down, two radio men hung out of windows, clutching microphones in their hands and on the roof opposite the bank, a marksman had also taken up a position. Feeling a little boulder, Millard eased the truck to a stop outside the bank's entrance, then swiftly jumped out and
made his way to the front door. After our red let him in. The robber, with the dead man switch still firmly in his grasp, immediately accosted him and demanded to know if he was a police officer. Millard insisted he wasn't, and the man quickly relaxed, precariously transferring the dead man switch into his mouth again. He then handed the now completely stuffed a duffle bag to Millard and
instructed him to take it outside. After a false start, as the robber went back inside to collect a pistol he'd found in al Reid's office, he and Millard stepped out at the bank's front door, drawing gasps from the assembled crowd. With the trigger device clamped between his teeth and the pistol in one hand, the robber followed Millard out to the truck. As Millard went to put the bag in the passenger seat, the robber pulled the trigger from his mouth and told him to put it in
the back instead. A little further up the street to the north, Sergeant Robert Letaine had watched all of this unfold from behind the scope of his rifle as he kept low behind the door of a police cruiser. He then watched, dumbfound it as Millart disappeared behind the back of the truck and the robber simply walked away from him, then stepped out alone into the middle of the road, holding the dead man switch out in his hand. Then
Sergeant l'taine took the shot. Millard had just enough time to see the robber's body crumpled to the floor before he was sent high into the air and slammed back hard onto the tarmac. The next thing he remembered was a strange ringing in his ears and a hideous smell of burned flesh as blood streamed down the side of
his face. Sergeant L'taine's bullet had struck the robber in his chest, killing him almost instantly, in turn releasing the dead man switch and setting off the dynamite inside his bag. The explosion had blown Millard twenty feet away, obliterated most of the windows of the surrounding buildings, and splattered their facades in globules of flesh and blood, while all about one hundred thousand Canadian dollars of cash reigned down onto the street as the many observers streamed forward to try
and grab as much of it as they could. One witness, standing a block away from the explosion, stood staring in disbelief at the bloody, pulpy, severed hand that had just landed with a smack on the road in front of her. As detailed in Joe Ralco's twenty seventeen book The Devil's Gap, which provides a speculative account of this extraordinary story, one man who'd stayed to watch the attempted robbery was the
manager of Canora's ken Rissia Hotel. He'd watched with shock when the robber exited the bank wearing the exact same jacket that he had seen on one of his hotel guests. As he swiftly informed the police, the man had checked in seventeen days previously, on April twenty third, under the name of Paul Higgins of four three five Glenn Drive in Toronto, Ontario. The manager had thought it odd that the man had booked to stay for two weeks only to then disappear for ten days before returning on the
fifth of May, five days before the robbery. Officers were dispatched immediately to the hotel to inspect the man's room, where they found various bomb making materials in the bathroom, as well as a number of maps and books which suggested the man had been planning to hide out in the wild for some time. A Nazi picture book was
also said to have been found among his possessions. One particular oddity was that all the labels of Higgins's clothes had been removed, Nonetheless, with everything they seemingly needed to formally identify the man, Cunora Police promptly contacted their counterparts in Toronto to confirm the details. Only, as it turned out, Paul Higgins didn't exist, and neither did four three five Glenn Drive. The man had made it all up, with no evidence of him found listed on any public record,
from passport, the driver's license and taxes. Fingerprints taken from the severed hand were checked against a database of over forty five million individuals, but that also led nowhere. Despite exhaustive efforts to find anyone that might know him, the police were eventually forced to concede defeat. To this day, the identity of the man who had become known as effectively Canada's first suicide bomber remains a complete mystery. Thank
you to Jordan Dunford for suggesting this week's story. If you enjoy Unexplained and would like to help supporters, you can now do so via Patreon. To receive access to add free episodes, just go to Patron dot com, Forward Slash Unexplained Pod to sign up. Unexplained, the book and audiobook, featuring ten stories that have never before been covered on the show, is now available to buy worldwide. You can purchase through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Waterstones, among other bookstores.
All elements of Unexplained, including the show's music, are produced by me Richard McClain smith. Please subscribe and rate the show wherever you listen to podcasts, and feel free to get in touch with any thoughts or ideas regarding the stories you've heard on the show. Perhaps you have an explanation of your own you'd like to share. You can reach us online at Unexplained podcast dot com, or Twitter at Unexplained Pod and Facebook at Facebook dot com. Forward Slash Unexplained podcast