Con Artist's Number Is Up Today

"Like music, lying requires exquisite timing, a consistent beat and a melodic quality designed to soothe the most cynical beast," Miller wrote. "Like painting, lying requires varying shades of color, depending on the visual or intellectual effect desired. Like poetry, lying has to be precise, measured, lyrical and appealing."

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Miller possesses a whirlwind of energy, persistence and charm, as well as a con artist's biggest skill: turning a shred of truth into a massive scam, according to investigators, former prosecutors, his victims and others who knew him.

He was born in New Jersey and left high school to join the U.S. Army, where he later obtained a diploma, court records show. He received an honorable discharge in 1974. He was arrested for the first time in 1976 on charges of resisting arrest in Louisiana. A few years later, he moved to London, where he claimed to be a master of Hap Ki Do, a little-known martial art.

Starting in those early years, Miller was an energetic promoter. Five-foot-nine and wiry, he got publicity after smashing through 780 slabs of concrete in less than five minutes during a demonstration. That led to an interview with Karate and Oriental Arts magazine about his hopes to establish Hap Ki Do studios in Great Britain. The story caught the attention of authorities, and Miller got into trouble for working without a proper permit. He left the country.

Fred Adams, president of the International Hapkido organization in Great Britain, recalled meeting Miller in London and realizing that the supposed master, despite skills in martial arts, didn't understand the nuances of Hap Ki Do or have the proper certificates.

"You couldn't believe a word he said," Adams said.

Back in the United States, Miller had repeated brushes with the law. In 1992, he pleaded guilty in Venango County, Pa., to impersonating a lawyer after taking $29,000 to represent a man in a criminal case.

Then it was on to Annapolis, where he bought a share of a restaurant in nearby Eastport. He falsely claimed to be a chiropractor and gave massages to waitresses or customers, according to those who knew him and a former state police investigator. He became known around town as "Dr. Bob."

Financial trouble ensued, and Miller turned over ownership of the business. It wasn't a happy parting. He was convicted in 1994 of breaking into the place and stealing food, dishes, furniture and other items. The next year, he pleaded guilty in a scam involving used cars in Baltimore County.

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After spending a few years in a Maryland prison for the used-car case, Miller met Deborah Kolodner. She, too, had a checkered past, having been convicted twice in Maryland on federal fraud charges. They married in 1999 but split; as things unraveled, each called the other's probation officer to report alleged misdeeds, according to court filings. They later divorced.