abetterlie

A couple of days ago, Harry told me that there were break-ins in the entire building. So given that he was off having a publicity date on Tuesday evening because of the tabloid nonsense and I was done for the day with homework, I thought this was as good a time as any to investigate. Not as good a workout as vampire staking, but it's not like I had any anger management issues. Well, if I had met a reporter elsewhere I might have had, which is why I abandoned the patrol idea after a few blocks and went back to the building and did the investigation idea instead.

What struck me as completely weird about the whole thing is this: the security systems. Because these actually work. At least the security cameras do, as I found out last week.. So you have cameras everywhere, and nobody showing up on tape breaking in. The obvious conclusion is that it had to be an inside job, but the thing is, I bet Harry is not the only one with a staff of servants who were around for eons. Not in this kind of house. Plus with the unployment rate rising? Who'd be stupid enough to risk their job by stealing stuff? Extremely valuable stuff, sure, but you can do that only for so long before someone finds out, and like I said, the staff were obvious suspects, and some of the things that were stolen - paintings, for example - can't be sold for quite a while and then only on the black market. Whereas a regular salary is security.

I asked Bernard about this yesterday, because he had been around the longest, and maybe he's the biggest Norman Osborn fan ever and can't stand the sight of me, but he strikes me as pretty observant. Plus as opposed to Harry, he'd notice if something in the Osborn penthouse was missing as well. Well, the anti-Jeeves just looked at me in this extremely sarcastic way he had and implied ever so subtly that given the thefts didn't start until my arrival on the scene, I was the obvious suspect.

So here I was, coming home from the aborted patrol, chewing things over. (About the thefts, not about Harry being on a publicity date.) (Or why I can't get a letter to Kara written I actually can send to her.) Because you know, Bernard was right. I was an obvious suspect. And the thefts hadn't started before I came to the scene. So... hm. Who else was new? What else had happened just before I arrived? Harry had gotten his kneecaps broken by Todd the interfering jerk and had hired a physical therapist.

Now I guess someone must have recommended Tom Bennett to Harry, plus I didn't want to do the same easy jumping to conclusions Bernard had done with me. (Though maybe Bernard hadn't meant it and just wanted to rile me. I can't tell.) But the thing is, I suddenly realized that if it was Tom, or anyone else inside the Osborn household, Tuesday night was the obvious time for a big heist. Harry wasn't there, he was going out with Claire What's-her-Name. I had said I'd be out as well, until midnight, when Elizabeth had asked. So all of them have taken the night off. Perfect.

So I didn't enter the building through the door, security code, elevator, security code, penthouse, code, door, another code routine. I went the old-fashioned way, climbing up and over the balcony. (No Spider-man around this time. And I wouldn't even have minded, because hey, those webs are useful. Though if he ever says the "sidekick" word again, I'm going to get creative.) Given that I have the security code, I could open the balcony doors from the outside without setting the alarm system off. I didn't switch the light on, either. I just listened.

There were the usual little noises; electronic systems humming, traffic outside despite the sound-absorbing glasses, that kind of thing. No poltergeist activities (figures - Norman the Bastard just shows up when he wants to torment someone). And... there was breathing. This is probably where vampire heritage pays off. Breathing. Not very loud, and controlled, but breathing. And someone moving ever so quietly in the first floor, Harry's usual bedroom, to be specific, the one he had when I was first here and he wasn't on crutches. Where there happens to be a safe and his mother's jewelry.

Allow me to feel smug. I know it was mostly luck, because if there had been some actual vampires around when I tried to distract myself patrol or if I had stumbled across a reporter, I'd have been elsewhere, and would have missed it. So yeah, no great masterpiece of detective work. But still. Results count, right? And for once, I didn't screw things up or made them worse.

It wasn't a big action scene - I mean, Tom the Thieving Therapist could defend himself, he must have learned some karate, but well, natural disadvantage, plus he had all that high tech equipment he had used on the safe. But his red-handed hands were a little more red by the time I was done, and tied behind his back. Then I called Bernard (who actually has an apartment elsewhere, lo and behold) because I wasn't sure whether or not calling the police was the Osborn household thing to do. Which it actually turned out to be. By the time Harry came back with Claire the Brunette (looking very pretty and totally unlike Kara in red), Bernard and the guy in charge of the overall security in the building were telling the detective he called all about how Mr. Osborn's best friend (insert quotes) from California caught the robber plaguing this building recently. Harry looked something between surprised and amused, Claire looked impressed, and the police guys looked as if they knew they were supposed to link that to the press. Well, okay, at the time I thought they looked impressed, too - I was a bit giddy. The other interpretation came when Bernard said something along the lines of maybe this time, the press would be a little more inspiring to read as soon as the police plus Tom were out of the penthouse. He also gave the impression of being not quite sure whether I and Tom hadn't been in cahoots. But anyway. He left, to whereever he lives when he's not guarding the manor. And I left Harry and Claire to have a farewell drink while typing this.

All in all? I think I may have found a way to earn my way through college once my money is used up. The security chief was a bit embarrassed about not having caught Tom himself. That, or maybe he shares Bernard's suspicion and believes in the "keep your friends close and your enemies closer" line. Anyway, he asked me whether I'd be willing to help out now and then and test the other penthouses in the building for precautions etc. Plus the state Tom was in seems to have given him the idea I'm good at martial arts, because he said something about "occasional need of forceful removal from the perimeters". Sure, I said. And asked about a salary. After a moment or two, he named one.

Clearly, crime pays.