20 June 2009

The day before yesterday, at about 4.30 p.m., while I was sitting at my desk trying to find my way round the new Writelink site, I heard a fairly loud sound, like a banging door,

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and thought how odd, my husband must be home early. I called out to him, and when there was no reply, I went to have a look. There was no-one there, so I checked that the door was locked, and went back to my wanderings.

Half an hour later the phone rang. It was the old lady who lives on the second floor.

'There's been a burglary,' she said, 'on the fifth floor, just below your apartment. I don't want to scare you, but is your door locked?'

Soon after, there was major hammering and voices, so I went down to investigate. Not one, but both the apartments below me were open, and workmen were fixing the front doors. The Resident's Rep was there, with the concierge.

'They broke the doors down with a crowbar,' one man said.

'They're on the CCTV camera,' the concierge said. 'Two women, and a man, but they covered their faces.'

I was a bit concerned, since everyone seemed so relaxed about it, so today I wrote a letter to the Residents' Rep, asking a few questions: how did the burglars get in through the front door of the building? What have the police found out? What measures should the rest of us take?

Soon after she paid me a visit: apparently it's easy to get in through the main door by slipping a card through; the police hadn't found out much, and we all need secure doors.

'What about dropping a note into all the residents' letter-boxes to inform them that there's been a burglary?' (There are three 'blocks' in the building, each with two lifts, and two apartments on each landing, so people in the other blocks probably didn't hear a thing.)

'But I'm awfully busy,' she said.

'Busy?' (She's retired)

'Yes, people are wanting me to deal with the bike parking and the intercom and the satellite dishes. We'll discuss the burglaries at the next A.G.M. in February.'

'Hang on, madame, you're dealing with satellite dishes, which you've been discussing at the A.G.M. for the last twelve years, and we've had a burglary, and you're telling me you're too busy to write a five-line note?'

'Mais madame, this is a voluntary position, I'm not even paid to do all I do.'

I went and got my laptop. 'Right, we're writing a note now. To all residents: there was a burglary last Thursday afternoon. The police are investigating. Please take extra care to lock your doors properly. Cut, paste forty times, there, print, sign. It took three minutes, madame, of our precious time. Now will you put the notes in the letter boxes, or will I?'

'Why aren't you on the Committee?' she asked me.

'Because I don't want to be.'

'See, no-one wants to help me.' Hmm...

'Madame, if I volunteer for a job, it's because I know I can do it properly.'

Anyway, my husband and I have our suspicions. There is a person in our neighbourhood who has a bird's eye view of all the living-room and kitchen windows on our side of the aprtment block...and if you remember my very first post on the subject, he has a telescope pointed towards us...

What's more, today he is celebrating today. Balloons decorating his apartment, strange-looking guests...