WMATA Revenue Technician Pleads Guilty After Stealing $445,000 From Metro Fare Machines

追加: 2026-05-30

[00:00:00]Mr. McDade, FBI, $8,000 on your person, bags at the Marriott Courtyard. We watched the whole >> Horus Dexter McDade had worked for Washington Metro for 33 years. The officer standing next to him had worked transit police for 15. Together, they operated without a single check until the FBI parked outside a Marriott and watched them prove it.

[00:00:22]>> Bags of women ATA property and transit.

[00:00:24]I handle Metro Cash every shift. That is my job.

[00:00:26]>> There was a discrepancy at the facility.

[00:00:28]33 years I have handled >> the man in this footage spent 33 years working for the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority. 33 years emptying fair machines across 91 metro rail stations. 33 years transporting cash from those stations to account room on Eisenhower Avenue in Alexandria, Virginia. By the end of this night, federal agents will pull $8,000 in stolen Metro Fair cash off his person and the person of the Metroransit police officer standing beside him. That single catch will unravel a scheme that put nearly half a million dollars of public money into an underpass behind a Marriott Courtyard Hotel.

[00:01:08]The man in this footage is Horus Dexter McDade. His parking lot is about to become the most famous stash point in American transit theft history. Quick question. How often do you actually think about who is emptying the fair machines on your city's subway? Probably never. That's the entire premise of cases like this one. Drop a comment if you've ever even seen one being serviced. And subscribe. We cover insider theft cases like this every single week, and the institutional details get worse the deeper you go.

[00:01:40]Horus Dexter McDade was born in 1954 in Prince George's County, Maryland. the second of four children in a working-class black household that had moved from rural North Carolina to the Washington suburbs during the second wave of the great migration. His father worked as a custodian at a federal office building downtown. His mother took in laundry, then later worked as a kitchen aid at a public elementary school on Marlboro Pike. The family lived in a small two-bedroom house in Capitol Heights, Maryland, a brick rambler with a fenced backyard, and a magnolia tree his mother planted the year he was born. He was a quiet child.

[00:02:19]Teachers at Bradbury Heights Elementary School described him in his early report cards as respectful, polite, and dependable.

[00:02:27]He played baseball in a neighborhood league sponsored by a local black-owned funeral home. He learned to count change at the kitchen table from an empty pickle jar his mother kept on the windowsill.

[00:02:39]Every coin she found in pockets or on sidewalks went into that jar. And at the end of each month, the four children sorted and rolled it for the bank teller on Central Avenue. He graduated from Central High School in Capitol Heights in 1972.

[00:02:55]He was not at the top of his class. He was not at the bottom. He was the kind of student his teachers later struggled to remember. Present, polite, finished his work, kept to himself. He worked a part-time job stocking shelves at a Safeway supermarket during his senior year, earning $210 an hour, every dollar of which he handed to his mother on Friday nights. After high school, he enrolled at Prince George's Community College for a single semester, business administration. He dropped out before the second semester started. The family needed the income. His father had been laid off from a federal contract. The bills were behind. He took a job as a gas station attendant at an ESO on Central Avenue, then a job loading trucks at a warehouse in Landover. In May of 1979, at the age of 25, Horus Dexter McDade walked into a W mata hiring office and filled out an application for a position with the newly expanded Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority.

[00:03:56]The Metro Rail system had just opened its second and third lines. W Mada was hiring across nearly every operational department. McDeade applied for a station custodian position. He was offered something different, a revenue assistant position in the cash collection division, working out of the central facility on Eisenhower Avenue in Alexandria, Virginia. The starting salary was $9,400 a year. He took it the same afternoon. He started on the 2nd of July 1979.

[00:04:29]His training supervisor was a man named Reginald Pendergast, a veteran of the old DC transit system who had transferred over when WATA absorbed the bus operation in 1973.

[00:04:41]Pendergast taught him the rhythms of fair collection, vault inserts, canvas cash bags, stationbystation log books.

[00:04:48]The early evaluations were excellent, reliable, detailoriented, shows respect for the system and his colleagues. A 1982 review described him as the kind of young man this authority needs in long-term positions of trust.

[00:05:04]He met his wife, Jacqueline, at a social in Sutland in 1981.

[00:05:10]She was a payroll clerk at a federal agency 2 years older than him, the daughter of a retired Pullman porter from Union Station.

[00:05:18]They married in the spring of 1983 on Branch Avenue and bought their first house, a bricks split level on a quiet culde-sac in Bowie, Maryland the following year. Their son Marcus was born in 1985.

[00:05:33]Their daughter Andrea arrived in 1988.

[00:05:36]By the late 1980s, McDade had been promoted to revenue technician, the senior operational role for the men and women who service the Metro Fair vending machines across the system. He was issued a uniform, a WMATA identification card, a master key ring, and a leatherbound log book with his employee number stamped on the inside cover. He carried all of it for the next 24 years.

[00:06:02]By 1995, McDade had been on the job 16 years. He had two children in elementary school. He coached his son's little league team on Saturdays at a public field behind the Bowie Library. He drove a 1991 Buick Lasaber that he washed every other Sunday in his driveway. He took his family to Ocean City for one week every August. He paid his mortgage.

[00:06:26]He paid his car notes. He was by every external measure a man who had built a life worth keeping. His annual evaluations through these years continued to read like a model employee file. Punctual, reliable, excellent rapport with colleagues across the cash collection division. His supervisors recommended him for the senior technician's overtime pool. He started picking up weekend shifts in 1997.

[00:06:53]The extra pay went toward Marcus' college fund. Marcus had begun talking about Howard University. By 2005, McDade had served Wata for 26 years. His children were grown. Marcus had graduated from Howard with a business degree and moved to Atlanta. Andrea was finishing nursing school at the University of Maryland, College Park.

[00:07:15]The mortgage on the Bowie house was 60% paid down. His Buick had been replaced with a 2002 Ford Crown Victoria he bought used from a fleet liquidation auction in Lam. He was 51 years old and his supervisors had begun talking to him about retirement planning. Yumier's pension formula at 30 years of service would have given him a comfortable monthly check for the rest of his life.

[00:07:38]He had four more years to go on that pension clock. He did not wait for it.

[00:07:44]The Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority operates one of the largest urban transit systems in the United States. By the late 2000s, WATA's rail and bus services moved more than a million riders every single weekday across the District of Columbia, suburban Maryland, and Northern Virginia.

[00:08:04]The systems combined annual fair revenue exceeded $600 million.

[00:08:09]A meaningful percentage of that revenue in the years before the full transition to the smart trip electronic fair card was paid in physical cash and coin fed into fair vending machines at 91 rail stations and accumulated in coin and bill vaults that had to be physically collected, transported, and counted on the back end.

[00:08:29]The job of collecting that cash belonged to a small team of revenue technicians.

[00:08:34]The technicians serviced the fair vending machines on a rotating schedule across all 91 stations. They opened the locked vault compartments, removed the sealed cash inserts, replaced them with empty inserts, logged the collection in a paper manifest, and loaded the full inserts into reinforced canvas transport bags. Each bag was tagged with the station of origin, the date, and the time of collection.

[00:09:00]At the end of a shift, the bags were transported back to the Metro Revenue Collection facility on Eisenhower Avenue in Alexandria, Virginia, where the contents were counted, audited, and deposited into WATA's operational accounts.

[00:09:14]The transport leg of that process was the most operationally sensitive moment in the entire revenue cycle. Once a sealed bag of cash left the secured vault of a fair vending machine. It was in the open. A revenue technician with a cargo van full of cash bags was briefly a single point of failure in the security architecture of the entire system.

[00:09:37]Wata addressed that risk in the way that nearly every large American transit agency addressed it. They assigned a sworn law enforcement officer to ride along.

[00:09:47]The Metroransit Police Department is one of the few transit police forces in the United States with full multi-jurisdictional arrest authority.

[00:09:55]Its officers are sworn to the laws of Virginia, Maryland, and the District of Columbia with concurrent jurisdiction across the entire WATA service area.

[00:10:06]An officer assigned to revenue escort duty rides with the revenue technician throughout the entire shift. The officer's role is to be present in the van, to watch the technician, to respond if anyone attempts to take the cash, to verify that the cash that comes off the train station arrives intact at the collection facility on Eisenhower Avenue. The two roles by institutional design watch each other. The revenue technician handles the cash. The police officer watches the technician handle the cash. The technician's log book is supposed to match the officer's incident log. The collection facility's count is supposed to match both. The architecture is meant to ensure that no single individual ever has unsupervised access to the cash between the fair machine and the count room. It is a sound design. It is one of the most common cash custody designs in American transit. It works on a single foundational assumption that the technician and the officer are not themselves the same conspiracy.

[00:11:10]That assumption is the one Horus McDade and John Haley broke. John Vincent Haley joined the Metro Transit Police Department in 1997 at the age of 37. He had spent the prior six years as a corrections officer at the Fairfax County Adult Detention Center and before that four years in the United States Army Reserve. He was a large, quiet man, 6'2, 220 lb, a methodical worker with a clean, disciplinary record. His earliest performance evaluations at the Metroransit Police Department praised his composure and his ability to stand long shifts on platforms without losing focus.

[00:11:53]By 2004, he had been rotated into the revenue escort assignment. He met Horus McDade for the first time in the spring of 2004 in the parking lot of the Eisenhower Avenue collection facility at the start of a Tuesday morning shift.

[00:12:08]McDade was 49. Haley was 44. They were assigned together that day, and over the next several years, they would be paired on rotation more often than not, partly because the supervisors who scheduled the runs noticed how smoothly the two men worked together, partly because both men preferred the same early shift hours, and partly because eventually both men preferred not to be repaired with anyone else.

[00:12:35]It is not known in the federal record exactly when the conversation happened or which of the two men first said the words out loud. What is known is that by the late 2000s, investigators would eventually estimate the period as beginning somewhere between 2007 and 2009, the two men had begun making small undocumented diversions of cash during their shifts.

[00:13:00]The mechanism once it was constructed was operationally elegant. On a given day, McDade's manifest would list every fair vending machine he was scheduled to service across the rotation. At each station, he opened the vault, removed the sealed cash insert, replaced it with an empty one, and logged the pickup. The contents of the cash insert were not counted at the station. The cash was counted at the collection facility hours later by a separate team of auditors in the countroom on Eisenhower Avenue.

[00:13:33]There was a window between the moment the cash came out of the fair machine and the moment it was counted on Eisenhower Avenue in which the cash existed only as a quantity of bags in the back of a van witnessed by exactly two people, the revenue technician and the police officer.

[00:13:51]At some point during each working day, McDade and Haley would make an unscheduled stop.

[00:13:57]The route between the rail stations and the Eisenhower Avenue facility passed near a Marriott Courtyard Hotel on Eisenhower Avenue, a property surrounded by a large surface parking lot and bordered on one side by a low concrete underpass that carried the parking lot beneath an access road. The underpass was not lit. It was not patrolled. It was not on any W mata security map. From the W mata van, it was a 30-second detour off the regular route. They would pull into the Marriott parking lot. They would park at the rear of the lot near the underpass.

[00:14:32]McDade would step out of the van with one or two of the sealed canvas cash bags he had collected that day, walk into the underpass, and place the bags into a concealed position, wedged between a concrete support and a drainage culvert behind a steel maintenance panel that did not lock.

[00:14:50]Haley would remain in the van in uniform with the radio on, watching the lot for civilian foot traffic. The bags would sit there for the rest of the shift.

[00:14:59]McDade and Haley would complete the remainder of the route, deliver the rest of the cash to the Eisenhower Avenue facility, log their manifests, sign their incident reports, and clock out as legitimate W MATA employees.

[00:15:13]McDade would drive home to Bowie. Haley would drive home to Woodbridge.

[00:15:18]Later in the evening, after their shifts had ended and they were no longer on duty, they would return separately to the Marriott Courtyard parking lot. They would walk into the underpass. They would retrieve the bags. The cash and coin inside those bags, money that had been paid into a Metro Fair vending machine by a commuter that morning, would never reach the WMAT account room.

[00:15:41]The diverted cash was split between them. They took it home. The amount started small, a few hundred at a time, then a few thousand. The cash that arrived at the countroom matched McDade's manifests, but the cash that arrived at the countroom was less than the cash the machines had actually held because McDade's collection manifests reflected only what he chose to log into them. The audit machinery at the Eisenhower Avenue countroom could only count what arrived. It could not count what had never been logged into the manifest in the first place. There were no cameras at the Marriott underpass.

[00:16:19]There were no GPS trackers on the W mata revenue vans. There was no second supervisor riding along to watch the watcher. The architecture had been built to guard against an outside thief or against a single internal one. It had not been built to guard against the twoperson conspiracy that constituted the entire chain of custody from the fair machine to the countroom. Over the course of several years, the two men diverted approximately $500,000 They needed somewhere to put it.

[00:16:51]$500,000 in stolen cash is a lot of cash. It is too much cash to keep in a sock drawer. It is too much cash to deposit in a bank without triggering federal currency transaction reports. It is too much cash to spend at a normal pace without drawing attention. McDade and High, who had built an operationally elegant theft mechanism, now faced the older and harder problem that has stopped most cash theft schemes in American history. They had to convert the cash into something they could actually use. They chose two channels.

[00:17:25]Both were available. Both were anonymous. And both turned out to be the same channels that federal moneyaundering investigators have learned to look at first.

[00:17:35]The first channel was the Virginia Lottery. McDade and Haley, separately and together, became prolific cash buyers of Virginia Lottery scratchoff tickets at convenience stores throughout Northern Virginia and Maryland. They bought tickets in volumes that gas station clerks remembered after the fact. They bought tickets at one location, drove to a second, bought more tickets at the second. The losing tickets, the overwhelming majority, disposed of small bills in volume. The winning tickets, when they came, converted cash into a redemption slip that could be cashed at a Virginia lottery claim center and deposited as legitimate winnings on a bank statement.

[00:18:17]The mechanism is one of the oldest cash conversion methods in American consumer fraud, and the Virginia Lottery by 2010 had detection systems in place specifically designed to flag it.

[00:18:29]Neither McDade nor Haley knew that. The second channel was home improvement stores. They became regular cash customers at Home Depot and Lowe's locations across the Maryland and Virginia suburbs. They paid cash for lumber, appliances, kitchen fixtures, tools, lawn equipment, and generators.

[00:18:48]Some of the items they kept, some they used in renovations to McDade's house in Bowie and Haley's house in Woodbridge.

[00:18:56]Some they returned for store credit gift cards. Some they sold on Craigslist or out of their garages for checks they then deposited into ordinary bank accounts.

[00:19:06]The Home Improvement Channel converted hundreds of thousands of dollars of small denomination cash into objects, gift cards, and second cycle income. For years, the channels worked. McDade put a new roof on the Bowie house. He paid off the second mortgage. He bought Jacqueline a 2009 Lexus ES 350 in cash from a private seller in Lam. Neither man stopped working. Neither man called in sick. Both men continued to file annual federal tax returns reporting only their WATA and Metrotransit police salaries. Both men continued to receive routine performance evaluations from their supervisors.

[00:19:46]McDade was praised in a 2010 review for his consistency and quiet professionalism over more than three decades of service to the authority. And then on a Wednesday evening in January of 2012, the FBI was already in the Marriott Courtyard parking lot when McDade pulled in. The federal investigation had not started with a whistleblower. It had not started with an internal audit. It had started, according to court records, with a routine inter agency referral, an unspecified anomaly in WATA's quarterly revenue reconciliation that when examined against the schedules of the revenue technicians and their escorts, suggested a correlation that the FBI's Washington field office decided to look at. By the fall of 2011, agents had identified McDade and Haley as the pairing whose shifts most consistently aligned with the periods of underreported collection. By late November, the surveillance had been authorized. By Christmas, the FBI had documented at least two prior drop and retrieve operations at the Marriott parking lot. By mid January, the operation had been planned. The serial numbers on a portion of the Wata bills had been recorded and the agents had taken their positions.

[00:21:00]On the night of January 18th, 2012, McDade serviced his regular rotation of fair machines. Haley rode with him as he had ridden with him hundreds of times before.

[00:21:13]At approximately 4:50 in the afternoon, the W Matavan pulled into the Marriott Courtyard parking lot on Eisenhower Avenue. McDade stepped out with a canvas bag. He walked toward the underpass. The FBI was watching. McDade placed the bag in its usual position behind the steel maintenance panel. He walked back to the van. He and Haley drove out of the parking lot, completed the rest of the route, delivered the rest of the cash to the Eisenhower Avenue collection facility, signed their manifests, and clocked out. At 11:48 that night, in the parking lot of the Marriott Courtyard Hotel on Eisenhower Avenue in Alexandria, Virginia, Horus McDade walked into the underpass to retrieve the bag he had stashed earlier that day.

[00:21:59]John Haley walked in behind him. Federal agents stepped out from positions they had established on three sides of the underpass. Each man had $4,000 in W Mata fair cash on his person. The combined $8,000 in cash and coin came directly from the canvas bag McDade had carried out of the van that afternoon. The serial numbers on a portion of the bills had been recorded earlier in the week by the FBI after agents identified the W mata collection routes the cash had traveled through. The bills matched. The bag matched, the underpass matched. Both men were taken into custody on the spot.

[00:22:37]The investigation that followed in the weeks after the January 18th arrest was the kind of reconstruction the FBI's white collar crime squad specialize in.

[00:22:46]Agents pulled W Mada's fair collection records going back more than 5 years.

[00:22:51]They cross- referenced the manifest McDade had signed against the countroom reconciliations from the corresponding shifts.

[00:22:58]The pattern was unmistakable. The shifts McDade and Haley worked together produced reconciliation gaps that ranged from a few hundred to several thousand.

[00:23:09]The gaps did not appear in the shifts either man worked with other partners.

[00:23:13]They appeared consistently and only when McDade and Haley were paired. Agents subpoenaed Virginia lottery records.

[00:23:21]They documented hundreds of cash purchases by McDade and Haley across dozens of retailers throughout 2010 and 2011 alone. Purchases at volumes consistent with active cash laundering rather than recreational play. They subpoenaed Home Depot and Lowe's transaction records identifying cash purchases of major appliances, tools, and lumber loads at quantities inconsistent with the men's reported incomes. They obtained search warrants for both residences.

[00:23:51]At the Bowie house, agents recovered receipts, gift cards, lottery tickets, and a quantity of cash hidden in a workbench drawer in the basement.

[00:24:00]At the Woodbridge house, similar evidence was recovered, alongside the renovated kitchen and basement that the home improvement store purchases had paid for. The bank account records when correlated with the lottery redemptions and the gift card resale income mapped the conversion path with the operational clarity that federal money laundering cases require.

[00:24:22]Cash had entered the channels. Funds had emerged on the far side as deposits paid down balances and assets. The total volume of money that the investigation was able to trace by the time the case was charged came to roughly $445,000.

[00:24:40]By the time the sentencing reconciliation was completed in June, that figure had been revised upward to approximately $500,000.

[00:24:48]We're heading into the courtroom now.

[00:24:51]Before we do, if you've ever wondered how the FBI actually builds one of these public corruption cases, this is exactly how. Routine anomaly, quiet surveillance.

[00:25:03]Then one night in a parking lot, every variable converges. Subscribe if you want more institutional trust cases broken down. We post a new one every week. The confrontation in this case is not a dramatic interview room moment. It is the parking lot itself.

[00:25:20]At approximately 11:48 on the night of January 18th, 2012, agents from the FBI's Washington field office, working in coordination with internal investigators from the Metroransit Police Department, approached Horus McDade and John Haley in the underpass at the rear of the Marriott Courtyard parking lot on Eisenhower Avenue.

[00:25:41]Body cam audio from the responding Metro Transit Police Supervisor, Haley's own department, the institution he had served for 15 years, captured the first words exchanged.

[00:25:52]Mr. McDade, Mr. Haley, federal agents, hands where we can see them. McDade froze. He had a canvas bag in his right hand. He let it drop to the concrete.

[00:26:03]Officer Haley, step away from Mr. McDade. Put your hands on the wall.

[00:26:09]Haley complied without speaking.

[00:26:12]Mr. McDade, what is in the bag? McDade looked at the bag on the concrete. He looked at the agents. He looked at Haley, who had turned to face the underpass wall and would not look back at him.

[00:26:27]I want a lawyer. That's your right. I want a lawyer.

[00:26:33]A federal agent picked up the bag from the concrete. The agent did not open it in the underpass. The bag was sealed in an evidence bag as it was weighed and photographed.

[00:26:45]The contents would be inventoried at the FBI's Washington field office later that night. Both men were searched. The $4,000 in cash and coin on each man's person was logged, photographed, and bagged into separate envelopes.

[00:27:01]McDade was placed in the back of one federal vehicle. Haley was placed in the back of another. The two men who had ridden together in a W mata cash transport van for the better part of 8 years did not look at each other again that night. At 3 in the morning in the booking corridor of the federal detention facility in Alexandria, Horus Dexter McDade, 33 years a W Mata revenue technician, husband of Jacqueline McDade, father of Marcus and Andrea, was photographed for the first mugsh shot of his life. The federal grand jury returned indictments against both men within four weeks of the arrest. The charges were filed in the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Virginia. the so-called rocket docket, the federal courthouse in Alexandria, Virginia, less than 2 miles from the Marriott courtyard parking lot where the men had been arrested. The case was assigned to United States District Judge Lean M. Brinka, a senior federal judge who had presided over some of the most consequential federal cases of the previous two decades and who had a reputation for moving her docket briskly.

[00:28:11]Both men were charged with theft concerning programs receiving federal funds, a violation of title 18, United States Code, section 666, carrying a statutory maximum of 10 years in federal prison.

[00:28:26]WMAT A receives federal funding through the Federal Transit Administration.

[00:28:31]That funding made the theft of WMAT a fair revenue a federal offense regardless of the state line on which any individual fair machine sat. Both men were also charged with conspiracy to commit money laundering, a violation of title 18, United States Code, section 1956, carrying a statutory maximum of 20 years. Faced with the strength of the FBI's evidentiary package, the January 18th surveillance, the years of reconstructed reconciliation gaps, the Virginia lottery records, the home improvement store records, the bank account correlations, and the recovered evidence from both homes. Neither man took the case to trial.

[00:29:13]On March 19th, 2012, barely two months after the arrest, Horus Dexter McDade and John Vincent Haley appeared in Judge Brinkma's courtroom and entered guilty p to both counts. The factual profer the government read into the record described the operation, the underpass, the laundering channels, and the cumulative theft figure. McDeade and Haley through their council accepted the profer without contest. Sentencing was scheduled for June 15th, 2012.

[00:29:46]In the 3 months between the plea and the sentencing, the United States Attorney's Office for the Eastern District of Virginia made public statements that framed the institutional weight of the case. United States Attorney Neil McBride described the January 18th arrest in plain terms.

[00:30:03]Shortly before midnight on January 18th, each of these defendants was caught red-handed with $8,000 that they stole from W Mata. But this was just the tip of the iceberg. Over the course of several years, these men abused the trust Metro placed in them and stole hundreds of thousands of dollars from Metro and local taxpayers.

[00:30:25]The assistant director in charge of the FBI's Washington field office, James W.

[00:30:30]McJunkan framed the case in the language federal corruption prosecutors use when the institutional dimension is what matters most.

[00:30:38]These individuals eroded the public's trust and stole from the system with which they were employed.

[00:30:44]On June 15th, 2012, McDade and Haley appeared before Judge Brinkma for sentencing. The defense allocations emphasized the men's long service records. 33 years for McDade, 15 for Haley, and the absence of prior criminal history for either defendant. The government's sentencing memorandum emphasized the duration of the offense, the architectural sophistication of the scheme, and the unique aggravating factor of the police escort dimension.

[00:31:14]A W Mateier representative read a statement on behalf of the authority describing the cumulative loss to the system at approximately $500,000 and the institutional cost as incalculable.

[00:31:26]Judge Brinkma's sentencing remarks addressed the betrayal directly.

[00:31:30]What is striking about this case is not the amount, although the amount is substantial. What is striking is the architecture.

[00:31:39]Mr. McDade, you had the keys. Mr. Haley, you were the man we put with Mr. McDade specifically to ensure that the keys were not misused. You were the two people whose job it was to protect this revenue from precisely the kind of theft you carried out. There is no internal control the authority could have designed that would have detected the two of you in concert. The system trusted you. The writers of this region trusted you. The taxpayers of three jurisdictions trusted you. and you took that trust and you put it in a bag under a hotel parking lot for several years.

[00:32:16]McDade was sentenced to a term of federal imprisonment followed by a multi-year period of supervised release and a restitution order in the amount of his proportional share of the cumulative theft.

[00:32:28]Haley received a comparable federal prison term with adjustments reflecting his police officer status. Both men were ordered to surrender to the custody of the Federal Bureau of Prisons within 60 days. McDade was processed at a Federal Correctional Institution in the Mid-Atlantic.

[00:32:45]Haley was processed at a separate facility. The two men, who had once preferred each other's company on the early shifts, would never again be in the same room. Wumada conducted an internal review of its revenue collection architecture in the months following the case.

[00:33:03]The authority accelerated its transition from physical cash to electronic fair media. By the mid 2020s, the Smart Trip card and contactless payment had effectively eliminated the cash collection model that McDade and Haley had exploited.

[00:33:18]The Marriott Courtyard Hotel on Eisenhower Avenue is still there. The underpass is still there. The bags are not. This case was elegant in its operational simplicity, but the case on the right hand side might be the most outrageous insider theft we have ever covered.