The Pizza Bomber Pt. 2: The Murder
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Due to the nature of this episode, listener discretion is advised. This episode includes discussions of explosives, death, and violence. Consider this when deciding how and when you'll listen. It was a seemingly normal afternoon at the PNC Bank in Erie, Pennsylvania. Clients shuffled in line as tellers deposited checks and dispensed money. And at 2.27 p.m.,

A stocky bald man walked in, looking disheveled. It was 46-year-old Brian Wells. He wore blue jeans and two t-shirts. The one underneath was gray, while the one on top said, "Guess Jeans." His chest bulged, as if it was concealing something. And above his collar, he seemed to be wearing a neck brace. In his hand, he carried what appeared to be a cane.

Brian strode confidently past the line of customers and straight up to the chief teller. She told him he needed to get in line and wait his turn. Without hesitating, he handed her a white envelope. She immediately understood this was a robbery. Shakily, she pulled out a letter from inside the envelope and read. Then she looked up at Brian. He wasn't wearing a neck brace. It was a bomb.

I'm Carter Roy, host of Conspiracy Theories, a Spotify podcast. You can find us here every Wednesday and be sure to check us out on Instagram at The Conspiracy Pod. To continue our discussion on the pizza bomber, I'm once again joined by my friend and host of Serial Killers, Vanessa Richardson. Thanks for having me, Carter. Glad you're here. Stay with us.

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In the early afternoon of August 28, 2003, 46-year-old Brian Wells left Mama Mia's Pizzeria to deliver an order to Upper Peach Street in Erie, Pennsylvania. But this was no ordinary delivery. It was all part of a larger plan. Brian had instructions to head to a TV tower on Peach Street. When he got there, he would be fitted with a fake collar bomb and sent to rob the local PNC bank.

When he arrived at the location, though, Brian was startled to discover that his co-conspirators had rigged the caller with an active bomb.

dangling from the metal box at the bottom. The farce had taken a deadly turn. Brian turned to run, but his co-conspirators Robert Panetti and Floyd Stockton tackled him to the ground. He struggled against their grip as the two masterminds behind the plot, Marjorie Deal Armstrong and Bill Rothstein, strapped the live bomb around his neck.

Bill had made the bomb himself. It was connected to two Sunbeam kitchen timers by an open circuit of wires and screws. When the timer reached the 12 o'clock position, the switch would close and the bomb would activate.

A green plastic lever snapped the two semicircular arms of the collar into place. Unlocking it would require the insertion of two keys into two of the four keyholes at the front of the collar. But Brian's cohorts wouldn't tell him how to unlock the bomb until after he had robbed the bank. In an instant, he went from being a willing participant to a hostage. And if he wanted to survive...

Brian had to do exactly what they said. When the struggle was over, Bill walked to his van and retrieved a gun shaped like a cane. He handed it to Brian. Marjorie told him to use it if the tellers didn't believe he was armed with a real bomb. Then she pulled out a white t-shirt out of her purse. The Guess Jeans logo was written across the front.

Marjorie reminded Brian of his defense. If the police pulled him over, he was supposed to tell them that someone had forced him to wear the bomb, threatening to kill him if he didn't rob a bank on their behalf. And now, oddly enough, the crew took their time in getting to the actual robbery. While Brian sat undoubtedly sick to his stomach with worry, everyone else chowed down on the pizza he had brought them.

Finally, when they were finished eating, the crew tossed the insulated pizza bag into Bill's car. Then Marjorie drove off in her Jeep, taking another conspirator, Ken Barnes, with her.

Marjorie drove towards the strip mall where the PNC Bank was located. She parked directly across from the strip mall entrance. From here, she and Ken could see everything. They watched through binoculars as Brian passed by in his Geo Metro. Bill trailed close behind in his Mercury Marquee. The two vehicles turned into the strip mall lot. Brian parked near the bank while Bill stopped his car in front of the Eyeglass World store.

And then, at 2:27 p.m., Brian disappeared into the bank. The timer on the bomb was set seven minutes before Brian entered the bank. As far as he knew, he had an hour until it detonated. But the screws in the mechanism interfered with the timer, shaving off three minutes. He didn't even know it yet, but from the moment Brian walked through the door, he only had 50 minutes left.

Brian strolled inside and casually made his way past the line of waiting customers to the chief teller. She told him to get in line and wait his turn, but Brian knew he didn't have time for that. He handed the teller his envelope. Right away, her eyes went wide. She had worked in banking long enough to know that this was a demand note.

Shaking, she opened the envelope to find four pages covered in small handwriting. "Receptionist, do not cause panic or many people will be killed. Sounding an alarm will interrupt this action and guarantee injuries and death. Involving authorities at this point will get the hostage and other people killed."

The letter went on to demand $250,000, an unreasonably high amount of cash for any bank to have in its vault.

It also explained how after he'd successfully obtained the money, Brian could locate the keys to save his life. The final line was clear and certain. Act now, think later, or you will die. It was signed, The Troubleshooters.

While the teller shuffled off to her manager's office, Brian grabbed a lollipop from the bowl and popped it in his mouth. When the teller returned, she told Brian her manager was out at lunch. He wouldn't be back for another half an hour. Brian was calm but adamant. He told her he didn't have that kind of time. He needed the $250,000 now to prove he was serious. He lifted his shirt, revealing the bomb.

By this point, the teller was undoubtedly panicked. But she couldn't oblige the outlandish request. Only the manager had access to the vault. Instead, she offered to give Brian the money from the drawers, hoping it would suffice. Trembling, she reached inside her cash drawer and pulled out all the money inside. Then she went to the other stations, gathering their cash too. She put the money in a white canvas bag and handed it to Brian.

Altogether, it amounted to $8,702. Now it was Brian's turn to panic. He was $241,000 short of the money he needed to get out alive. If he failed, he was dead. The letter he'd handed to the teller made one thing clear. No money, no keys.

Anxiously, he told the teller it wasn't enough, but her hands were tied. Brian knew he didn't have time to argue. Each second was precious. At this point, his time was better spent trying to find the key to his collar. He turned and walked out of the bank. Eleven precious minutes had been wasted on the failed mission.

At 2:38 p.m., Brian strolled out with the lollipop in his mouth, looking relatively calm considering the imminent danger he was in. In his right hand, he carried the cane-shaped gun. In his left, he twirled the bag of cash. As soon as he left, three people inside the bank called 911. Within two minutes, the Pennsylvania State Police were on their way.

Back in the parking lot, Brian glanced at the notes his co-conspirators had given him, simply addressed to "Bomb Hostage." They contained his first set of instructions for finding the key.

The instructions read, "Exit the bank with the money and go to the McDonald's restaurant. Get out of the car and go to the small sign reading 'Drive-thru open 24 hours.' In the flower bed by the sign, there's a rock with a note taped to the bottom. It has your next instructions." The gravity of the situation finally sunk in. He was being sent on a scavenger hunt for his life.

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Without a moment to lose, Brian took off. He drove to McDonald's and walked up to the drive-thru sign as instructed. He found the large rock in the flowerbed, and underneath it was his next set of instructions. He was to drive back to the Eyeglass World parking lot, in the same strip mall as the bank, and remove a piece of orange tape stuck to his collar balm.

Then he was told to tie it around the fire hydrant at Peach Street to signal that he had the money and had left the bank. Brian raced over to Eyeglass World, but as he turned into the parking lot, he noticed the flashing lights of a police cruiser in his rearview mirror. His heart sank. It was only 2.49 p.m., 11 minutes since he'd left the bank, and already two state troopers had caught up with him.

The troopers drew their guns and made their way over to Brian, who obediently got out of his car. They noticed the brace-like device around his neck. Cautiously, they handcuffed his hands behind his back. From their car across the street, two of Brian's cohorts, Marjorie Deal Armstrong and Ken Barnes, watched it all happen in terror. There was a good chance Brian could turn on them, given the way things had played out.

They made the quick decision to hit the road. Marjorie floored it out of the parking lot, tires squealing. She ran a red light and raced into the parking lot of an auto auction business. Bill Rothstein arrived moments later. After a brief discussion, they realized they needed to get rid of the remaining scavenger hunt clues. The notes would undoubtedly incriminate them if the police found them. But by removing the clues, they would seal Brian's fate.

Marjorie hopped into Bill's car and told Bill and Ken to get in. Ken asked why they weren't taking Marjorie's car. Marjorie replied cryptically that she was thinking of selling hers. In reality, of course, she didn't want to be driving around the crime scene in a car that could immediately be traced to her.

So frantic, Marjorie tore out of the parking lot and merged onto the highway, going the wrong way. Ken was terrified. Out the window, he saw another motorist driving in the right direction, wagging his finger at Marjorie, but Marjorie did have a plan.

Back in the parking lot, a handcuffed Brian kneeled on the ground next to his car. More police were arriving. Brian warned the troopers that he was wearing a ticking time bomb. They immediately fell back in caution. At 3.04 p.m., 14 minutes before the imminent explosion, a state trooper summoned the Erie police's bomb squad.

Brian was growing exasperated. He pleaded with them to help him find the clues to the key. He even asked them to lift up his shirt and check the time remaining on the bomb. But he'd have to wait until the bomb squad got there. The state troopers were still skeptical about the whole situation. If they were going to help, they'd need more information.

Brian told them that he'd been delivering a pizza to the TV tower on Peach Street when a man snuck up on him. He'd tried to get away, but the man fired a gun. Brian said that he hadn't been hurt, but he did fall to the ground. The man had used that opportunity to fasten the collar bomb around his neck before ordering him to rob the PNC bank.

Brian claimed that two other men were sent to follow him to ensure he obeyed their instructions. It was a tale that closely resembled the truth. Brian likely lied about the identity of his captors out of fear. If they were listening, they would know he hadn't given them up. But the troopers continued to press Brian for details. What did the man look like? What was he wearing? What was he driving? Brian had no response.

The officials remained skeptical. They'd received countless fake bomb threats, and for all they knew, this was one of them. Before they sounded the alarms, they had to be sure that the bomb was real. Two of the troopers cautiously walked up to Brian. One used a knife to cut open his t-shirt and look at the box hanging from the metal collar.

Through the steel mesh covering the box's opening, he could see a white plastic timer and a series of wires. Then he noticed a warning engraved on the metal panel on the side of the box. It said, "Do not open. Do not remove." Startled, the troopers backed away. They said the bomb looked real, but until the bomb squad arrived, there was no way to be certain.

From a safe distance, the troopers asked Brian how long he had before the bomb went off. Brian replied that he'd been given 20 minutes to get the money and another 50 minutes to follow the instructions back to the Keys. But remember, this was a mistaken figure. In reality, Brian had 50 minutes in total and time was running short.

He pleaded with them to go find the next clue to locate the keys, but the authorities only kept questioning him, asking why he hadn't gone straight to the police. Brian reiterated that at least three other people were watching him to make sure he followed through with the robbery. And as far as Brian knew, this was true. Bill, Marjorie, and Ken had followed him to the bank, although now they were long gone.

sweeping up the last clues that could save Brian's life. While Brian was pleading with the troopers, Marjorie tore down the wrong side of the highway in Bill's Mercury Marquis. After Ken pointed out her error, she pulled into the median, made a U-turn, and continued back. Suddenly, without explanation, she pulled to the side of the road. She simply told Ken she needed to go to the bathroom. Marjorie walked around the back of the car...

climbed over a guardrail, and scurried down an embankment. When she returned, she tossed something into the back seat. Ken didn't see what it was, only that it was wrapped in a white t-shirt. Investigators would later believe this was one of the scavenger hunt clues.

Back in the Eyeglass World parking lot, FBI agent Jerry Clark arrived on the scene. He would become an essential figure in the investigation, but for now, Clark was convinced the whole thing was a hoax. As an expert interviewer, he was tempted to jump in and question Brian himself, but he didn't want to jeopardize the rapport the state troopers had already built with him. He figured he would have a chance to talk to Brian once this whole ordeal was over.

But this was assuming the bomb was either fake or could be removed in time. In the meantime, Brian begged for the troopers to remove his handcuffs. The collar was heavy and the weight from the box was hurting his neck. He wanted to use his hands to hold it up, but the troopers insisted that he remain seated and handcuffed until the bomb squad arrived.

At his wits' end, Brian asked for a cigarette, but the troopers said no. Then he asked for a priest. Again, they refused. Finally, Brian asked why no one was trying to help him. He pleaded with the troopers to get the instructions out of his car, and then, strangely, he asked them to call Mama Mia's pizzeria and tell them about the situation.

Suddenly, Brian said he could hear the bomb beeping. He frantically begged for the handcuffs to be removed. But no one helped him. No one could have. The timer beeped for 10 seconds. Brian shifted slightly. Then he was dead.

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Restrictions apply. See terms at sportsbook.fanduel.com. Gambling problem? Call 1-800-NEXT-STEP or text NEXTSTEP to 53342. At 3.18 p.m., the bomb strapped around Brian Wells' neck exploded. The blast slammed the metal box holding the bomb into his chest. It cut into his heart, killing him instantly. It had only been an hour and a half since Brian had first left the pizzeria on his fateful errand.

At 3:21 p.m., three minutes after Brian's death, the bomb unit arrived. They approached Brian carefully and examined his body for other explosives, but none were found. FBI agent Jerry Clark stared at the wreckage. Just a few minutes before, he had been skeptical of Brian's story, but now he was fascinated. He wanted to be the one to solve this case.

Local law enforcement wasted no time in verifying Brian's identity. Meanwhile, a state trooper drove to Mama Mia's Pizzeria, where Brian said he worked. The trooper examined the restaurant's caller ID box to determine who ordered Brian's final delivery. They tracked the phone number to a payphone at a local Shell station. From there, the trail went cold.

Meanwhile, state troopers and FBI agents swarm the TV tower on Peach Street looking for the fictional man Brian had described as his captor, but they came up empty-handed.

Back at the crime scene, authorities picked through the remnants of the blast, an ever-active AA battery, scraps from two white Sunbeam kitchen timers, and a bone fragment from Brian's neck. When they searched Brian's car, they found the instructions for the scavenger hunt. He had been telling them the truth.

Investigators followed the instructions onto the highway, driving until they reached exit 180 for the Mill Creek Mall. From there, the note said to walk into the woods and search for a container. Inside the container was a note directing them to another stop along the highway. This time, they were to look for a small sign indicating the boundary from McCain Township.

Once there, the instructions said to walk into the woods and follow orange tapes to the container with instructions inside. But when the investigators searched the woods, they found no container. Evidently, someone had gotten there before them.

Now, while the investigators were out on the scavenger hunt, Agent Clark focused his attention on getting a search warrant for Brian's house. The unassuming pizza bomber was the key to cracking this case. Had someone truly forced his hand, or had he acted alone?

At 1:25 the next morning, police blew down the door to Brian's cottage. But the search bore little fruit. The only notable items were two spiral notebooks full of names and telephone numbers. It would become useful later on, but for now, the police were still struggling to cobble together a picture of what they were dealing with.

Later that day, FBI agents made their way to a house near the Peach Street TV tower. They wanted to ask the resident, Bill Rothstein, whether he'd seen any suspicious activity the day before. Surprisingly, Bill answered the door. The agents questioned him about the previous day, and Bill feigned complete ignorance. He insisted that he never went near the TV tower and hadn't heard anything about the so-called pizza bomber.

The agents were so satisfied with his response that they didn't even search his house. According to Agent Clark, they couldn't imagine someone participating in a plot that had unfolded so close to their own home. They left Bill's house with no idea. They'd just found one of the masterminds behind the bombing. It's just mind-boggling.

And now the following day, investigators interviewed Brian's co-worker, Robert Panetti. Once again, they had no clue they were talking to someone who had actually been involved in the robbery. But Robert's performance was less credible than Bill's. According to FBI agents, he kept fidgeting and insisting he was too busy to talk to them. The agents finally relented, saying that they would circle back with him.

But they would never get the chance. He was undoubtedly guilt-stricken at having played a part in his death, and he may have feared that Bill and Marjorie would turn on him, too. He was right to be afraid. His cohorts had no time or patience for a crisis of conscience. They couldn't risk him confessing. Mere hours after his visit from the FBI, Robert met up with his co-conspirators for the very last time.

Ken Barnes gave him a drink, which Robert would have gratefully accepted, given his nerves. But unbeknownst to Robert, the drink was spiked with methadone and Xanax. This would silence him once and for all. In the wee hours of the next morning, Robert went back to the house he shared with his parents,

His mother immediately recognized that something was wrong. But Robert assured her that he was okay. He said he'd been at his sister's house and had a few too many beers. At 5 a.m., Robert's mother found him lying unconscious in his own vomit on the bathroom floor. An ambulance was called, but Robert refused to go to the hospital. By 9 a.m., he was dead.

The coroner ruled Robert's death an overdose. But Agent Clark was deeply suspicious. Two Mamma Mia's employees had died within days of each other. Was it really a coincidence? Or were they somehow connected? Meanwhile, the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico analyzed the envelope of instructions that had been given to Brian.

They use these to create a profile of the person or people behind the plot.

They concluded, quote,

For whomever locked the bomb around Brian Wells, the ordeal was about control and manipulation. The profilers were spot on. Bill and Marjorie had a long history of devious and controlling behavior, and the manipulating had only just begun.

Nearly a month after Brian's death, the investigation had still gotten nowhere. But Marjorie was growing more and more anxious. She was worried that the investigation would point to her and the other person she'd recently killed. Remember, a few weeks before the robbery, Marjorie murdered her boyfriend, Jim Roden.

He had initially agreed to take part in the robbery, but then backed out. So Marjorie shot him to make sure he wouldn't squeal. Now, his body was still stashed in a freezer at Bill's house. Marjorie was so paranoid that she slept in her Jeep at night, always prepared for a quick getaway. Finally, on September 20th, she and Bill decided to take action.

At 4.30 that evening, the pair headed to the store and left with an ice crusher. They went back to Bill's house and hung black tarps in the windows to avoid being seen. At this point, Bill wanted to wash his hands of this whole mess. He had already helped plan the robbery, built a bomb that killed Brian and lied to the FBI agents, not to mention stashing Jim's body in his freezer for Marjorie.

Enough was enough. So while he and Marjorie were hanging the tarps, he insisted that they needed a stapler to help. He told Marjorie he had one in his van and quickly excused himself.

When he got to his car, he immediately hopped in the driver's seat and sped away. Then he pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. When the operator answered, Bill stuttered, "At 8645 Peach Street, there's a woman with green slacks, a blue shirt, a brown purse." The operator asked Bill to slow down and tell her what the woman needed.

Bill responded that there was a body inside the garage freezer. He explained that the freezer was his, but that he didn't want anything to do with the woman at the house. Bill told the operator that woman's name, Marjorie Deal Armstrong.

Thank you for listening to Conspiracy Theories, a Spotify podcast. We'll be back next week for the final part of this story. And be sure to check us out on Instagram at The Conspiracy Pod. For more information on Marjorie Deal Armstrong, amongst the many sources we used, we found Mania and Marjorie Deal Armstrong by Jerry Clark and Ed Palatella, extremely helpful to our research. Until next time, remember, the truth isn't always the best story.

And the official story isn't always the truth. Stay safe out there. Conspiracy theories and serial killers are Spotify podcasts. This episode was written by Natalie McKeeran, edited by Kate Gallagher and Chelsea Wood, researched by Adriana Gomez, fact-checked by Cara Macerlene, and sound designed by Sam Baer.

Our head of programming is Julian Boisreau. Our head of production is Nick Johnson. And Spencer Howard is our post-production supervisor. Serial Killers is hosted by Vanessa Richardson. And Conspiracy Theories is hosted by me, Carter Roy.

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