The Theft, Part 2
Our municipal mayor, a personal friend, was visibly shocked when I told her about the theft. I dropped by her office in the municipal building on impulse, knowing she’s been worried about my safety since I mentioned I was building a house in a secluded area in town. She shared concerns that the walls around my property might not be high enough to keep intruders out—a fear many of my friends and relatives also have. I shrugged it off, not giving their worries much thought.
I was still in Manila, scouring every store on Bambang Street for Walter’s insulin pens and glucose meter when my phone rang. It was the mayor who said that she had before her the recovered stolen bag, but no passport, ATM, or credit cards among those found. She has already instructed the police to do further investigation.
According to the police report, a former Barangay Tanod saw three teenage boys burning a bag, which I described earlier, near the irrigation canal in our town. Curious, he informed the police, who found the rest of Walter’s belongings inside the bag. Strangely, no passport, credit cards, or cash were recovered. The police investigator said the bag was almost ashes, so the ex-patrol officer decided not to bring it to the station. Burned or not, it’s still evidence-so why dismiss it so easily?
The police report left me puzzled. If I were the thief, why burn the bag when it’s a prized possession, unlike the cheap nylon ones from the market? Why save the documents, especially the passport and major credit cards? Why burn instead of tossing everything into the river? Could it be to hide fingerprints? It just doesn’t add up, and I’m not buying their story, especially after one of the officers said my messenger bag was identical to the stolen one. How could he know?
A police team came to my house to investigate how the theft could have happened. A novice police assistant, not in uniform, came along to take some photos of the crime scene, but couldn’t because his camera batteries ran low, so I had to do the job with my own. The investigator did not obtain fingerprints. And you’re telling me the thief or thieves were worried that the fingerprints on the bag might give them away, so they decided to burn it instead? Give me a break! I can’t help feeling skeptical about their effectiveness, and I bet many readers share that frustration.
E-shopping, why not? I was thinking out loud. Yes, we can do electronic shopping with a credit card. How about the passport? So many things one can do with it, but I am not breaking my head over the many possibilities.
The police investigator was a character. He asked Walter if he was married. “No!” Why not, Sherlock Holmes insisted? “Don’t you like Filipino girls? Marry one, my pren!” Wadafak? Police investigator, one moment, a pimp the next.
Despite the poor job they delivered, Walter was kind enough to offer them brewed coffee and cake he baked himself. I bet the coffee kept them anxious and active the rest of the day—working on the case, hopefully.
December 27, 2012