Eight Modern, Real-Life Whiskey Heists and Robberies
Photos via Unsplash, Reiseuhu, Buffalo Trace, William Grant & Sons, Total Wine
In the age of whiskey hype, the rise of whiskey crime was always going to be inevitable. And make no mistake—the distilling industry has always had a seedy side to it, stretching all the way back to before American Prohibition. Certainly, during Prohibition skirting the law became an art form. But in the decades afterward, when few Americans had any kind of interest in brown liquor, such pastimes effectively faded away. With the brown liquor revival of the 2000s, however, obsession with bourbon, rye and scotch returned with a vengeance—and so did the high-profile thefts and heists of that increasingly valuable commodity.
In many respects, high-priced whiskey really is a thief’s dream item. Bottles are relatively small and portable, and an extremely high-end bottle of scotch can be worth tens of thousands of dollars. Often, they’re being displayed in unguarded liquor stores, or poorly secured distillery gift shops, and bold thieves can simply walk off with thousands of dollars undetected. The bottles are then sold covertly on the internet secondary market, where massively inflated price gouging has become rampant and expected.
The 2010s in particular essentially turned into a marquee era of whiskey theft, with some stories gaining national attention and capturing the public imagination. Here are eight instances of those notable modern whiskey heists that fell in the range of tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars.
1.“Pappygate”
You can’t discuss whiskey heists without talking about the “Pappygate” case, so let’s go ahead and get it out of the way first. This is by far the most widely known and famous of modern whiskey theft operations, mostly because of the depth of the inside job involved, and the extremely hyped status of Buffalo Trace’s Pappy Van Winkle whiskey. Whether the liquid itself is deserving of all that ardor is inconsequential—the media loves stories about “Pappy,” so this one naturally blew up into national news.
The story broke in mid-2013, when Buffalo Trace reported that more than 200 bottles of 20-year-old Pappy Van Winkle Bourbon and 13-year-old Van Winkle Family Reserve Rye had gone missing from the distillery, possibly over the course of months or years. With a value in the tens of thousands of dollars—much more if selling at secondary market prices—this was a major theft, but it was really only the tip of the iceberg.
Despite hefty offers of reward, police had essentially no leads on the Van Winkle thefts until the following year, when an anonymous tipster broke open a surprisingly wide-ranging smuggling ring that was preying on the lax security measures of two iconic Kentucky distilleries: Buffalo Trace and Wild Turkey. Masterminded by a BT employee of more than two decades named Gilbert “Toby” Curtsinger, the ring was stealing vast quantities of whiskey of all kinds and reselling it through a network of local connections and desperate bourbon aficionados, all of whom later claimed they didn’t know they were buying stolen product. To which we can only say, “sure, sounds legit.”
The most shocking thing about this operation, which is estimated to have resulted in more than $100,000 in thefts (bear in mind, that’s MSRP), is how brazenly it was able to get away with those thefts for such a long time—five years at least. Curtsinger, for instance, wasn’t just stealing bottles and cases of whiskey from Buffalo Trace; he was casually driving away with entire barrels of the stuff and then selling those full bourbon barrels to collectors. One of his confederates, meanwhile, worked at Wild Turkey as a truck driver and was doing the same thing—he’d simply requisition more barrels of bourbon than he was supposed to, and drop off the extra barrels at his home on the way to the warehouse where they belonged. In both cases, their activities went undetected due to the distilleries simply not checking the status of their inventory—both companies seemed to acknowledge that employee theft was almost an expected aspect of the business.
Ultimately, numerous people in Curtsinger’s theft ring ended up pleading guilty to minor violations, while Curtsinger himself was sentenced to 15 years in prison … and then released after only 30 days in a case of “shock probation,” due to the nonviolent nature of his crimes. One can only assume that the major Kentucky distilleries, meanwhile, now take the security of their whiskey considerably more seriously.
2. Glenglassaugh Gift Shop Heist
Distillery gift shops can be prime targets for theft, because they often have some rare bottles on hand, and they may actually be less stringently guarded than your average liquor store. The people at Speyside scotch distillery Glenglassaugh found that out the hard way in 2014, when an overnight heist resulted in the theft of more than £10,000 in whisky from the brand’s visitor’s center in Aberdeenshire, on the edge of the North Sea.
The thieves here were seemingly well organized, swiping bottles of 37-year-old and 40-year-old Glenglassaugh whiskies. Rather amusingly, they also took a number of branded shirts and other Glenglassaugh merchandise—apparently they really liked the brand?
To date, I can find no reference to the thieves in this case ever having been apprehended.
3. Walking Out With a 50-Year Glenfiddich
There’s “brazen,” and then there’s this, which is something else entirely. In Toronto in 2013, an unassuming looking man walked into a busy Toronto liquor store. This middle-aged guy in a brown trench coat proceeded to walk over to a locked display case, jimmy the case open, and extracted a bottle of 50-year-old Glenfiddich Single Malt. That bottle was one of only 50 in the world, and valued at $26,000. The man then inserted the bottle into his trench coat, grabbed a cheap bottle of wine, and paid for his wine at the register. He then walked out the door with his wine and his secret $26,000 prize, and no one noticed a thing.
It sort of boggles the mind, and raises countless questions. How did the guy know that he wouldn’t be caught? He certainly must have planned out the broad daylight theft in advance, to even know that the bottle of Glenfiddich would be there. What was his plan, if someone walked up on him while he was hunkered in an aisle, breaking into the display case? Where does one even try to unload a single bottle of $26,000 scotch? In terms of utter simplicity, this one takes the cake—it’s not often that you can walk in and walk out with a single item of such astronomical value without anyone even knowing.
As will become a recurring theme in these entries, the whereabouts of this guy are still unknown.