The Burglar that wasn’t and the Evidence Destroyer

If that doesn’t sound like a B-movie, I don’t know what would.

At any rate, this week, crazy at it was, offered a few entertaining details. One of which involved a residential burglary. The incident struck me as odd from the get-go. The residence was an apartment, but something about it just sounded strange. After 11 years on the job, one develops a sense for details that just seem, for lack of a better term, “off”.
Typically, if there’s been a burglary in an apartment, it’d be obvious. I’m talking kicked in door, ransacked property, and general sense that someone who shouldn’t have been there had been. This had none of them.
I should have known something was up when I met the PR’s son at the bottom of the stairs. I followed him up to his mother’s apartment. The door was closed. He walked up and took the bottom hem of his T-shirt in hand and used it to grasp the door knob and open the door. Now, I’m not a fan of CSI (for reasons I’m pretty sure I’ve beaten the dead horse with), but I’m fairly certain even the writers of that crappy show would realize the son, referred to from here on out as ED (Evidence Destroyer…I’ve no clue if he suffers from any other version of ED), just effectively erased any potential fingerprint evidence on the doorknob.
I walked inside to contact the PR/Vic. She tells me quite the convoluted, discombobulated story about how she came home last night, threw her purse on the couch and went to bed. She can’t remember if she locked the front door to her apartment, but she knows she locked the door to her bedroom (weird). She took the garbage out in the morning and left her door ajar, but she was only gone for a minute or so. She hadn’t seen her purse since the night before.
She swore to me she checked her car, scoured her apartment, and knows for a fact she left it on the couch. I asked her if she checked under the couch. She said she had. I asked her if she checked around the couch. She said she had. Okey doke…I took her information, checked with some neighbors, and went back to the PD to write the report.
I was about a minute away from completing the report and hitting “submit” when dispatch told me I had a phone call for a supplemental report. It was ED’s mom. I called her.
MC: Hi, ma’am. MC from Town PD.
ED’s Mom: I’m so embarrassed.
MC: Where’d you find it?
ED’s Mom: Behind the couch.
MC: Okay, ma’am. I’m glad you weren’t the victim of a burglary. Thanks for calling to let me know you found your property.
*Sigh* Why I didn’t listen to my instincts about this one, I don’t know. I had a feeling it wasn’t legit, but ED was playing Junior G-man and interrogating his mom. Eventually, I told him to knock it off and that I would be just fine asking questions without his assistance. I didn’t give him any shit about destroying, but I probably should have. Oh well…lesson learned.

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One thought on “The Burglar that wasn’t and the Evidence Destroyer

  1. Sometimes we just need stuff to happen to tell us are instincts are still right on.

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