by Andrew Nette
“When it comes to stealing, he is smarter than we are, Charlie Floyd. If the house was empty then perhaps all the jewelry would not be there, especially the most desired pieces. Instead, they would most likely be worn by the owners on their night out, or packed away in suitcases with them if they were on vacation. But if they were home, ah, then he knew exactly where the jewelry would be. Upstairs, in the bedroom, of course. In the early evening the family would be downstairs having dinner, watching television, playing board games, whatever families do at that time of night. The upstairs would be empty. And at dinnertime, it was far less likely that the alarm system would be activated.”
“I see what you mean, Manny. This guy is obviously a thinking man’s thief.”
“Precisely, Charlie Floyd. And that is what makes him so successful, so dangerous, and so difficult to apprehend.”
“How does he gain entry?”
“In addition to being brilliant in the art of crime, Francis Hoyt is an extremely athletic man. He climbs like a monkey, runs like a jaguar, and he is strong like a lion. To get into the houses he would climb a drainpipe, a column or a trellis. And if there were no drainpipe or trellis he would use his skills as a free climber, using mountain climbing apparatus. He is not a big man. He is only five feet four inches tall, and he weighs no more than one hundred and thirty pounds and most of that weight is comprised of muscle.
“Once inside the house, on the second floor, he knows exactly where to go and exactly what to take. He does not bother with jewelry that is fake or of dubious value. He only takes what he knows he can sell. And since most thieves are fortunate if they get ten or twenty cents on the dollar, he is very discerning as to the quality of the jewelry he steals.”
“I’m impressed,” said Charlie Floyd, and I could tell that he was. But there was so much more to tell him.
“He leaves absolutely no forensic evidence, Charlie Floyd. Not a fingerprint, not a hair, not a thread. He appears dressed like a ninja, all in black, with a black mask covering his entire face, except for slits for his eyes and holes just largest enough for him to breathe where his nose and mouth would be. He never comes armed. All he carries is a diamond tester to check the jewels, a long screwdriver to pop out windowpanes, and a small pen-size flashlight. He slips through second-story windows, almost always in the master bedroom and after he is done, he sometimes run for miles to get to where he parked his getaway car. Sometimes, he has been known to even take public transportation.”
“If he’s never been caught in the act, how do you know how he dresses, what he brings with him, how he gets away?”
“No plan is perfect, Charlie Floyd. On occasion, he has encountered his victims and they have given what description they could. And when he has encountered his victims he has always been the gentleman. When a woman once complained that he had tied her hands too tight with her husband’s neckties, he loosened them. When another woman began to suffer an asthma attack, he gallantly handed over her inhalator.”
“A gentleman bandit, huh?”
“Make no mistake, Francis Hoyt is no gentleman. Under the right circumstances, he is capable of violence. He has been brought in for questioning on suspicion several times. He has even spent a night or two in jail. But there has never been enough evidence to hold him for long. It is possible he never would have spent time in prison at all if he had not made one crucial mistake.”
“Which was?”
“He stopped working alone.”
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