Tuesday, 27 December 2011

Bleedin’ Amateurs

As I was leaving here on Christmas day in the morning, I remember mentally checking that I’d secured the perimeter according to Standard Operating Procedures, and then for some reason thinking ‘I’ll probably have been burgled when I get back’.  And when I did get back this afternoon, as I unlocked and opened the gates to the drive, before I could see the house itself, I thought ‘I’ve been burgled’.  I don’t know whether this makes me psychic or paranoid.

Because, as soon as I got out of the car, I saw that I had indeed been burgled.  The clue was that the kitchen window was wide open.  (I should explain that this is a window which has not until now been opened since 1992, by the last burglar, after which I fitted locks, painted it shut and bought the alarm system.)  I walked round to the front door and entered.  The alarm made all the right noises as I disarmed it.  I saw that, in fact, two windows in the kitchen had been smashed.  One pane of the six in the back door, and one of the eight in the now-open window.  I went straight to the living room, naturally, because that’s where most of the obviously tradeable valuables are.  I could immediately see that nothing had been taken (not even this elderly laptop) or disturbed.  (When you live alone, you develop an intimate knowledge of your own disorder.)  I went through to the dining room.  The side window had been smashed, but the secondary double glazing had defeated them.  I checked the rest of the house and found that a little pane in the leaded window on the other side had been smashed too.  Nothing missing anywhere.  That made the score four windows, no swag.
The bright young PC arrived pretty quickly.  “You’re my first today,” he told me.  “Only just came on shift.  But they’ve been pretty busy already, and I’ve got a couple more after you.  Looks like there’s this one idiot on a spree last night.”
I agreed.  Idiot.  The first try, in the dining room, should have given him a clue.  You can’t break secondary glazing.  But that didn’t deter him, and he persevered – hadn’t he noticed that there was an alarm? – until finally he managed to get into the kitchen, opened the door to the hall (which is where the alarm gets triggered, for the benefit of any future burglars who may be reading this) and scarpered empty-handed.
Idiot is the only word.  Bleedin’ amateurs.  A professional would only have broken one window, and got away maybe with a few bits of insured stuff.  I wouldn’t have liked that, but in a sense I’d have preferred it.  I’d have been less uncomfortable with rationality than with mindlessness.  Although a professional, of course, wouldn’t even have tried it.
Oh, apart from that I had a brilliant Christmas.

17 comments :

  1. Oh darling Tim, that's beastly. Though you picking up vibes from the house is a bit unsettling too.

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  2. What a bugger. But whoever did it was surely a rank amateur? Although that is pretty cold comfort! At least you can be fairly sure they won't be back to nick all the new stuff you've bought to replace the originals!

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  3. I was very sad to hear this, Tim.

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  4. Oh, sorry to hear that, Tim. Probably loads of fingerprints about, though.

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  5. That's horrible, poor you.
    At least the idiot didn't actually take anything.

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  6. Thank you all so much for your sympathetic comments. I'm fine, this sort of thing doesn't spook me, just pisses me off. I'll probably post an update later on.

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  7. Oh dear, so sorry. I should have rung you intermittently during the day, as I intended to do, which might have spooked the little bugga(s). Got distracted by grandchildren and Lego I'm afraid. :-(

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  8. Sue, you wouldn't have rung me at 1.45 a.m. Monday night, would you?

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  9. No. I don't think I rolled over and pressed any keys on my phone as I very rarely take it to bed with me.

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  10. Oh Sue, get an iPhone. You'll take that to bed with you. I do.

    I don't know Tim's number, btw, so I'm not going to phone him in the middle of the night. Well, I wouldn't anyway. Um.

    *stops digging*

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  11. (Tim, you're very welcome not to approve that)

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  12. Z, everyone knows that!!

    Also, I've just switchced off comment moderation, as nobody else I now know uses it, and it's kind of patronising for me to edit other people's thoughts.

    Nice typo up there, heh?

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  13. Everyone else knows your phone number and rings you at 1.45 am? Blimey. Dear heart, when do you sleep?

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  14. Nooo, nobody phones me at 1.45, except people who don't know my number. Um...

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  15. Sorry to read of your break in. it's the damage and the violation of ones privacy that gets me, I hope the little ba*****d who ever they are get caught. Of course they will get a slap on the wrist and told not to do it again.

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  16. Belated comiserations Tim!
    Arsewipes is the technical term. Even without taking anything, it's the fact of being picked on that's upsetting!

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