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When they burst into banks, their fingers twitch and their heads swivel back and forth as they look for security guards. When they get their money, they run madly for the exits, bowling over anyone in their path, and they squeal away in their cars, leaving tire tracks on the road. “I promise you, my Aunt Peggy was the last person on earth you would ever imagine robbing a bank,” said her niece, Michelle.“Whenever I was in a car with her, she never drove above the speed limit. And she always came to a complete stop at stop signs.” But Peggy Jo didn’t just rob a bank.She walked over to her dresser, the top of which held a few small glass sculptures of dolphins with iridescent eyes that she had been collecting off and on for more than a decade.She opened one of the lower drawers and pulled out a pair of men’s pants and a dark men’s shirt.“Be back in a minute,” Peggy Jo told her mother, tiptoeing past her room. IN THE CRIMINOLOGY TEXTBOOKS, they are invariably described as products of a deprived socioeconomic background.She walked outside, got behind the wheel of her 1975 two-door Pontiac Grand Prix, drove to the American Federal Bank just off West Airport Freeway in Irving, pulled into the parking lot, stepped into the bank’s lobby, and headed toward the counter, where a young female teller was smiling cheerfully. Most of them are young male drug addicts who don’t have the slightest idea what they are doing.She placed the cowboy hat on her head, put on a large pair of silver-rimmed sunglasses, and pulled on a pair of gloves. Peggy Jo nodded, stuck the money into a satchel, and walked out of the bank.She then took a few minutes to write a note on a sheet of lined paper and put it in her pocket. She then drove straight back to her apartment, where her mother was still in bed, getting hungry, hoping Peggy Jo would return soon to fix her lunch.
She stepped into the bathroom, rubbed some adhesive across her face, pasted on the fake beard, and colored her hair with gray paint she had bought at a costume shop. No marked bills or dye packs.” The stunned teller handed over a stack of cash from her drawer.She was very skilled and very efficient, as good as any man I’ve ever come across.” Although female bank robbers are not unheard of—it is estimated that women commit less than 5 percent of the some 7,600 bank robberies that take place each year in the United States—almost all of them are young women who, like most of the men, rob banks for drug money.And only a few of those women rob more than a bank or two before they quit or get caught.From her closet, she grabbed a men’s brown leather jacket that she kept on a hanger.She then reached for a Styrofoam mannequin’s head that was on a shelf in the closet.