Barcelona police refuse to file reports of stolen phones without serial numbers

mossos d'esquadra
The jeans. The pocket.
The jeans. The pocket.

Bob and I visited the Barcelona police station for information and found the usual line of victims reporting thefts. I asked a young Norwegian couple what had happened to them.

They’d been outside Los Caracoles, a popular restaurant, after dinner (and yes, drinks). He had held up his iPhone and taken a few photos.

“They must have targeted me,” the man said, “because as soon as I put my phone in my pocket, a guy bumped into me. The phone was gone in one second and so was the thief.”

“From those tight jeans?” I asked him.

“Yes, from this front pocket.”

“And the iPhone had a rubbery case. It doesn’t slide easily,” his wife/girlfriend said. “The phone will be erased after ten wrong passwords are entered, so I’m not worried about the information on it. I’m most upset about losing the photos of our whole trip.”

The victims at the Barcelona police station.
The victims at the Barcelona police station.

Pretty typical, so far. But here’s what amazed me (and I was right there!). The Barcelona police officer behind the counter refused to take the victims’ report! That’s right—refused to file a report! Because the victims could not provide the serial number of the stolen iPhone, they were turned away. The phone was stolen! Who carries around a note with serial numbers?

In a non-ridiculous world, the Barcelona cop would have said “I’ll take your report, but you’ll have to call in or email your serial number before I file it.”

Or perhaps, “I can’t file a report without your serial number, but you can file one online here once you obtain it.” Did the Barcelona policeman tell the polite victims that it was even possible to report theft online? No, he did not. I told the victims and provided the link. (More ridiculousness: victims who file online must still visit a Barcelona police station within 72 hours of filing in order to sign the report. So if it’s your last day, like the Norwegians, you’re cooked.)

Los Caracoles in Barcelona
Los Caracoles

[5/15/17 edit: In the comments below, Jon pointed out that for a stolen iPhone, “you can log onto http://appleid.apple.com, where you can view all devices linked to your Apple account as well as their IMEI and serial numbers.” Great suggestion, though this only works for devices that are logged into your Apple account.]

Next in line at the police station was a woman whose iPhone was stolen off a cafe table. The technique was an improvement on The Pickpocket’s Postcard Trick about which, coincidentally, I just posted. She was at her hotel’s restaurant, using the hotel’s wifi. She, too, was unceremoniously turned away from filing a police report because she did not have her phone’s serial number.

Strangely enough, we watched a few thieves attempt this technique just a few hours later. We were just leaving after a rest and coffee at a cafe on La Rambla. Bob spotted the thieves moments before they struck. I filmed them. They will be my next post.

Another couple I surveyed in the police station: stolen iPhone. As predicted in Summer Scams to Avoid, smart phones are the target of choice this summer. (Not that a wallet is out of danger.)

mossos d'esquadra
mossos d’esquadra

Three facts that surprise a pair of veteran thiefhunters:

1. A pickpocket stole from the tight front pocket of a man’s jeans (I saw the jeans).

2. Barcelona police refuse to file theft reports if the victims lack the stolen item’s serial number! (Stat-tampering.)

3. Barcelona police do not volunteer to victims that it is possible to file theft reports online.

I think there’s going to be more on this issue…

© Copyright 2008-2012 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

The Pickpocket’s postcard trick

The postcards are pulled away along with the wallet.
Kharem the day we first found him in 2001.

Kharem is another opportunist who doubles as a minor-league strategist. When we first met him, he was prowling the perimeter of a breakdance performance near the top of La Rambla. He carried a black plastic bag to cover his hand as he unzipped the duffel-bags of spectators.

“My job is pickpocket. I have this job seventeen years,” he said in English, over coffee in a little restaurant, then launched into French, telling us that he worked in Paris for twelve years until he was expelled from France. He left a little girl there.

Postcards are offered as if for sale to distracted diners. They're briefly held over a wallet, cell phone, or camera.
Postcards are offered as if for sale to distracted diners. They’re briefly held over a wallet, cell phone, or camera.

Kharem raised the plastic bag from his lap and put it on the table. He had a “unique technique,” he explained, his own method, something he invented and believes he is alone in using. He opened his plastic bag to show a handful of Barcelona postcards. He fanned the postcards and extended them to me across the table, as if offering them for sale. Then he withdrew them, leaned back in his chair with satisfaction, and tipped up the cards. Beneath them, he’d swiped my empty coffee cup.

He does this on La Rambla, Kharem told us with pride, where he approaches diners at outdoor cafés. When he removes the fan of postcards, he takes a wallet or camera with it.

Apparently, Kharem doesn’t realize that this is a fairly common technique used in internet cafés. Websurfers, intent on their email or gaming, often set a wallet, credit card, or cellphone on the desk in front of them, beside the keyboard. Perhaps Kharem did invent the postcard trick, but he’s not alone in using it. This “unique technique” vanishes so many valuables from right under noses that many internet cafés flash warnings on screen.

The postcards are pulled away along with the wallet.
The postcards are pulled away along with the wallet.

That’s how Jennifer Faust, of Canada, lost her wallet. She had it next to her keyboard at Easy Everything internet point on La Rambla. Jennifer, though, had filled out our Theft First Aid form, and therefore easily canceled her credit card accounts. Still, in the hour that passed while she fetched her Theft First Aid sheet, about $100 had been charged to one of her cards. This particular internet point, now called Easy Internet, has over 350 terminals in long rows, and the facility is open to anyone who cares to wander in. On our visits there, we spotted several teams, at different times, carrying packs of dog-eared postcards.

Excerpt from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams
Chapter Seven: Scams—By the Devious Strategist

Interview with Kharem
Kharem: Confessions of an Airport Thief
Kharem: Multi-talented Thief

© Copyright 2008-2012 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Summer Scams to Avoid

Thiefhunters in Paradise. Empty pockets. 404

Empty pockets

Are you going to London for the Olympic games this summer? Are you going to Europe? Are you going anywhere? Bob Arno urges you to be on your toes for these five summer scams and ripoffs, all of which are significantly on the increase.

1. The old pickpocket trick.

Pickpocketing’s been around since loincloths got pockets, but it’s increasing drastically in London and all across Europe. It has become more organized, with gang leaders buying or leasing youngsters under the age of legal responsibility. These kids, under pressure to bring in their “quota,” are more desperate than ever and attempt more brazen thefts.

Remedy: Keep your valuables under your clothing and be extremely vigilant at ATMs. Be sure your Social Security number is not in your wallet.

2. The pigeon poop pickpocket trick.

It’s hard to turn away a kindly good samaritan who wants to help you with a real—and vile—problem. You’ve been dirtied with something disgusting—often “pigeon poop” and lately actual (human?) feces. The con artists who secretly put it on you (or their partners did) use the physical contact of cleaning you off to clean you out. They pick your pocket or, if you set down your bag, run off with it.

Remedy: Sadly, we just can’t trust strangers approaching out of the blue. Antennas up!

3. Smart phone theft.

Smart phones are five times more likely to be stolen than wallets or cameras. (iPads are equally attractive, though harder to steal.) More than 50% of thefts in European capitals this summer are expected to be of smart phones—unless you help change the trend.

Remedy: Don’t leave your phone on a restaurant table or in an easy backpack pocket. Be aware that they are often swiped right out of users’ hands. Try to limit the personal information stored in the phone, and use a passcode.

4. Fake cops.

Naturally, we respect authority. A subset of nasty thieves we call “pseudo-cops” exploit this tendency by flashing fake badges and demanding to examine your cash. They claim to be looking for victims of counterfeiters and will take your cash “for examination,” or take a portion of it without you noticing.

Remedy: Do not show your cash or wallet. Police officers do not check the cash of random passers-by. Ask to take a good look at his badge and police ID. A real cop won’t mind at all. A pseudo-cop will move on to a more gullible mark.

5. Fraudulent websites.

Opportunists are working overtime online offering bogus Olympic tickets and nonexistent accommodations in London. London Metropolitan Police recommend buying Olympic tickets only from the official site, and have reported dozens of known fraudulent websites selling tickets and accommodations.

Remedy: Buy Olympic tickets from official vendors only. Buy accommodations from known and trusted sites or travel agents. Use a credit card to pay for your tickets and accommodations.

For full explanations on thefts, cons, and scams, start at the Thiefhunters in Paradise summary page.

© Copyright 2008-2013 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Pickpockets in Mumbai

He's got the wallet. Look at those thumbnails—polished by the inside of many pockets?
Two Mumbai pickpockets handcuffed together and roped to a cop.
Two Mumbai pickpockets handcuffed together and roped to a cop.

All these Mumbai stories of trains, crowds, swamis, the slum called Dharavi, and promises of more stories… What you’re really wondering is: did the Thiefhunters find any pickpockets in Mumbai?

The Thiefhunters did, and lets not even count the two boys found handcuffed together at Kurla train station, roped to an undercover policeman. We rode the train with them where they had to sit on the floor, like dogs on a leash.

Bob and I spent days on trains so crowded we couldn’t move, and joined pushing-shoving boarding mobs that were a pickpocket heaven. With opportunities like those, we thought we’d find plenty of thieves.

The pickpocket shows his method, which is classic: he uses one hand to raise the wallet from outside the pocket.
The pickpocket shows his method, which is classic: he uses one hand to raise the wallet from outside the pocket.

We road buses all over the city, which turned out to be a fascinating way to see Mumbai off the tourist track. At stops along the way, we hopped off and onto buses that barely paused for passengers. Where large groups waited to board, the rush was sudden and desperate—perfect for pickpockets. They should be able to do their work without boarding at all, putting instant miles between themselves and their victims. At a bus stop on the edge of a large slum, we spotted a pair that did board. The ticket-taker noticed them too, and pushed them off at the next stop.

Interestingly, every bus we rode carried a human ticket man who checked and sold tickets. Whereas on trains, we saw no controls whatsoever.

At end-of-the-line bus stations, huge orderly crowds lined up in a metal cattle mill for each route. Buses came at short intervals, again barely stopping. Passengers surged on while a uniformed people-manager tried to keep order. These men too watched for pickpockets, and told us that most thieves stalked bus passengers on the two monthly paydays. Those are only the pickpockets who get caught, I say.

He's got the wallet. Look at those thumbnails—polished by the inside of many pockets?
He’s got the wallet. Look at those thumbnails—polished by the inside of many pockets?

From the excellent, new, non-fiction book I just read, Behind the Beautiful Forevers, I gather that beating is a common enterprise in Mumbai. Among the book’s stressed-out, almost-zero-income community members, everyone partakes: parents beat children, brothers beat sisters, and kids beat each other up regularly. In the book, police are notoriously brutal. When we interviewed Mumbai pickpocket Rahul some years ago, he’d been beaten to a pulp by train passengers who’d caught him in the act. This, we are told over and over, is the way it works in Mumbai. A deterrent, possibly.

And when our friend Paul McFarland was mugged for his wallet, the wallet, his ID, and credit cards were all returned some 15 minutes later, with only the cash missing. Why? Karma.

The pickpocket we spoke with this visit was from Andhra Pradesh, an Indian state southeast of Maharashtra (where Mumbai is). He specializes in highway robberies, getting a driver to pull over whereupon he steals their stuff. But the smooth pickpocket moves he showed us betrayed his real job skills.

We promised not to photograph his face, but I will say this: although he was of average height, weight, and appearance, he was the type who would stand out in a crowd as suspicious. Perhaps it was his demeanor.

The pickpocket raises his leg and presses his knee into his victim's leg.
The pickpocket raises his leg and presses his knee into his victim’s leg.

Our translator spoke English and Marathi. Our barefoot pickpocket spoke something else, so our conversation was rough. The routine problem and frustration with impromptu interviews with thieves—not everyone is willing to get involved with criminals.

The thief described himself as a married Muslim with a wife and five children living in the next-door state. In the time-honored tradition, he learned pickpocketing from his father. When he demonstrated his technique, he couldn’t help using a specific move with his leg, in which he raised it to press his knee into the back of his victim’s leg. One indicator common to career pickpockets that we notice over and over is that their particular style is engrained and they can’t change it, even for a demonstration. His fluid motions and the confidence with which he showed them telegraphed that he was very practiced. We couldn’t figure out whether he currently practices both pickpocketing and highway robbery, or if he’d shifted from one to the other.

Bob and I have spent a lot of time thiefhunting in Mumbai, and our conclusion remains: although pickpocketing is not unheard of, a visitor is not very likely to be a victim. That doesn’t mean one shouldn’t practice safe-stowing and down-dressing—but I assume that readers of this blog already know that.

Also read: Street Crime in Mumbai
Knock-out Gas on Overnight Trains
Technicolor Mumbai

© Copyright 2008-2012 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Stashitware – pickpocket-proof underwear

pickpocket-proof clothes; safest place to carry money
Stashitware men's pocket undies.
Stashitware men’s pocket undies.

I have to laugh at the great sense of humor shown by the creators of Stashitware, men’s and women’s pickpocket-proof underwear. Start with the name: where do you stash your shit? The product better be good, because the name begs to be shortened to Shitware if not.

But it IS good. It’s great. The men’s and women’s models have huge, deep pockets, into which endless items can be stuffed. Which brings me to its hilarious demo video. Never has stowing valuables been so entertaining.

http://youtu.be/WxNs3WGbNNw

Some of the items shoved into the man’s crotch — cigarettes, prescription meds, condoms, jewelry wadded up in tissue — suggest motives other than thwarting thieves. Stashitware’s made for stashing and it does a stellar job of it. What and why you want to stash is your business. The man pats and squeezes his privates to demonstrate that the hidden items can’t be seen or felt—to a point. “You could fit a gun in this pocket!” a subtitle states. Not sure how comfortable that would be.

The undies look good. They’re comfortable, even loaded. Wearing a medium boxer brief Bob packed in his passport, credit cards, a camera battery, and cash. There was room for more, but he wouldn’t want to bulk up with more than that down his pants.

The small men’s boxer brief was too tight for my skinny husband, but great for me! So I had four pairs to test: the comfy men’s, and three designs made for women: a boybrief, bikini brief, and thong, which all held progressively less as they got skimpier. I comfortably carried a camera battery, cash, two credit cards, a passport, and an iPhone in the men’s small shorts and the women’s boybriefs. The bikini and thong, with their low cuts, naturally hold less.

Pickpocket-proof underwear

These good-looking skivvies are pickpocket-proof underwear. With their easy-access pockets, they’re also pretty convenient, though in some situations a little privacy might be in order before deep digging.

Stashitware pocket pants should be in vending machines in the lobbies of hotels in cities with a pickpocket reputation. In airport arrival halls, too. They would put pickpockets out of business—and this blog, too.

“If these were in stores,” Bob Arno said, “pickpockets would become shoplifters to get them off the shelves.”

(For pickpocket-proof underwear, also consider The Clever Travel Companions’ twin zip pocket underwear.)”

UPDATE May 2, 2012: I wore Stashitware on the world’s most crowded trains, trains so crowded you have to see them to believe it, and I have to say: I loved Stashitware! I never worried about my cash, credit cards, and ID. It was perfectly comfortable to carry it all in Stashitware. None of the many kinds of pickpockets would be able to get it. And my stuff was quick and simple to get out and put back. Excellent pickpocket-proof underwear. And no—I have no connections with the company.

All text & photos © copyright 2008-present. All rights reserved. Bambi Vincent

A platform for pickpockets

Frank on his bike
Frank on his bike
Frank on his bike

Denouement. None of us wanted to leave the park. After the demos, the dinner, and the as-yet-untold experience on the buses, after the conversation, the exchange of trade secrets, the trust, and yes, the new friendships, we sort of bonded. And I mean all of us: the band of thieves, the filmmaking crew, and the Arnos in the middle.

We stand there in the park in two concentric circles. The inner circle is Bob, Michele, Frank, Andy, and Marc. The outer circle is Van with the Red on his shoulder and his assistant holding his shoulders to guide him, director Kun, producer Kath, fixer Rosie, and me. None of us want to say goodbye.

Work finally pulls Marc and Andy away, but Frank remains. And finally, after two complete rounds of hugs and kisses, Frank straddles his bike, snaps on his helmet, and rides away. Van follows him with the camera until he’s out of sight.

We’re all physically and mentally exhausted; spent. I don’t know how the crew kept going; they were up hours before us every day and working for hours after we said goodnight. Yesterday they went nonstop from the market to the thieves’ restaurant to the second restaurant without a break, setting up and taking down equipment repeatedly. They are champions, all of them.

Making this documentary allowed Bob and me to fulfill certain long-held dreams. It allowed us the time in which to develop relationships with our subjects. It allowed us to have top-notch translators, especially my hero Michele. It enabled us to host our gang of thieves at a meal that Bob and I alone would need investors to fund, but which was integral to the building or our relationship, which gave us the ability to dig deeper into the life and times of pickpockets. And lastly, the documentary gives a soapbox to the subjects, a platform for the pickpockets themselves to explain their methods and motivations, their regrets and their desires.

Writing these stories has been difficult for me. The “easy difficulty,” if there is such a thing, has been simply finding the time to write in the midst of our action-packed days, and then finding an internet connection to get them online. But that’s just a technicality. The true difficulties have been several.

First, whitewashing our incredible host city [Naples!], and by necessity, the characters and true identities of the men in our story. How I had to restrain myself! As a writer, I tend to be of the descriptive sort. I would never say we drank “liqueur!” I want to say what kind [Limoncello], what color [sunshine yellow], and how lovely the fruit it was made from [lemons]. I want to tell about the marvelous restaurants we visited and the wonders of the local cuisine. I want to praise our cliffside hotel [San Francesco al Monte] and describe the view from its terraces, that you can see all the way to …

Sigh.

And—wait a minute! What will this film do to tourism in this mystery town? Will we repel visitors, or intrigue them? Our goal is to balance the stardust with the dirt, to spotlight the unique riches this place has to offer. We hope it comes through in the film. I certainly left it out of these stories.

And there is something of a moral dilemma. In an exchange of thievery techniques, are we teaching known criminals how to steal more and better? We don’t think so, but how do you see it? What about the techniques the general public will learn from watching the film—should we be concerned about how that knowledge may be used? We don’t think so, but we agree that it looks bad—as if we’re teaching how to steal.

I’m afraid of what the public will think of Bob and me in our pursuit of thieves. Will you chastise us for not stopping thefts when we see them? Or will you understand that our method, getting “in” with these criminals, has a greater end? Will you think us awful for liking the pickpockets, despite knowing what havoc they wreak, what distress they cause? In the film, it will be up to Kun to portray us honestly alongside our motives. But here in these writings, it was my responsibility. Do you think it’s all fun and games for us, that we dine with thieves for a lark? Do you understand that as outsiders, allowed into an underground brotherhood of thieves, we are able to gather knowledge for the greater good? Please comment. We need to know if we should hide under a rock when the film comes out.

A toast

We are incredibly grateful to film director Kun Chang, who has pushed this project forward for more than four years already. Bob and I have complete faith in him and have no doubt that he’ll put together a documentary that is as beautiful and dramatic as it is fascinating and educational.

While the shooting isn’t over, the exciting part is. What’s left is hard work, mostly by Kun and his editing team. It’s impossible for me to imagine how they’ll make sense of the vast amount of gripping footage we have accumulated. I also recognize that my perception of the experience is not the same as Kun’s. The sterile, stripped-down story I told here, missing highlights (believe it or not), missing local color (of which there’s tons), genericizing everything for the sake of the eventual film, may have little resemblance to Kun’s vision. We will all be surprised at the film: you, readers; and Bob and I.

Part one of this story.

This is Part 21 of THE MAKING OF OUR NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC DOCUMENTARY, PICKPOCKET KING. The film is about us, Bob Arno and Bambi Vincent. We are “thiefhunters in paradise.” The paradise we chose for the story is the warm and wild city of Naples, Italy, home to the world’s best pickpockets. The documentary premieres December 2 at 8pm ET/PT on the National Geographic Channel.

—Originally posted 10/5/10 and soon thereafter password-protected at the request of the producer.

All text and photos © copyright 2008-present. All rights reserved. Bambi Vincent

Criminal scavengers, and poets as well

Frank & Bob

Bob city view
Bob contemplates the upcoming test.

Bob gets cold feet. Overnight, reality began to percolate and bubble over the exhilaration of yesterday’s thieves’ challenge. By morning it was clear to Bob that stealing from the innocent public requires a set of attributes he lacked. Pickpockets in the U.S. call it heart, but they are referring to a lower part of the anatomy. They mean balls. I call it a criminal core.

Bob will not disappoint our gang of thieves in the park, assuming they show up. We will go to the park to thank them for the good time last evening and for participating in our film, and concede defeat in the great steal-off that never was.

Our director is fine with this decision. Crew and cameras are packed into the van; Bob and I are put in a taxi. We meet in the park. Bob paces, still somewhat conflicted. He wrongly accepted this dare in a feverish party atmosphere; but he is not a man to go back on his word, either. Not even to a band of crooks.

Maybe they won’t show up. Then Bob will be off the hook. Of course they’ll show up. Just like they did for the demo in this same park weeks ago, and yesterday’s dinner party. Bob paces in the shadow of the kiddie rides.

Frank & Bob
Frank & Bob

Frank zooms up on his motorcycle, grinning. He doesn’t know if the others will come; Andy’s not too reliable, he says. After a few minutes of chat, Bob swings his leg over the bike, wanting to putt around the park. Frank first pushes his helmet on Bob, and ensures that it’s safely fastened.

By the time Bob returns, Ed, Marc, and Andy have arrived. The regrouping of the party gang revs up the mood a few notches and distorts reality once again. The thieves are eager to pit themselves against the stage professional, and their enthusiasm is contagious. The laughter and excitement rise. Then talk turns to location.

“On the buses, of course,” they say in unison, “that’s where we work!”

“How about the market,” Bob suggests. He’s hoping for an environment in which he’d feel a little more control. A place with a large number of potential victims so he can pick just the right one, in just the right situation.

“No, another group is working there today. We don’t want to ruin their day. The bus!”

Somehow it was agreed. It was also agreed that all items would be returned to their owners. Certainly we could not be involved in stealing things for real; not even in accompanying known thieves while they commit criminal acts. All pickpockets, Bob included, would take, display, and return or replace ill-begotten gains.

Again we are a large group. Four thieves, Bob and I, and a crew of five. The eleven of us cross the park and board the next bus.

What happens next is—is—well, I’m very sorry but I can’t say. I will tell you that it is the climax of the film. It is beyond the dinner with thieves in excitement, fascination, and entertainment value. The added element of danger looms large. The speed in which events occur, the drama, and the revelations to us all combine to create lifetime impressions for all of us. Perhaps for you, too, when you see the film.

I know it’s mean to leave a cliffhanger. I admitted in part one of this narrative that I’d be compelled to leave out much good stuff. I’m sorry. But let’s go on.

Two hours later we regroup in the park. There’s been a little one-upmanship between Frank and Andy, a kind of battle using warmth-charisma-speed-guts-and-raw-skill. No hard feelings—it was all in fun. But which of them will be the pickpocket face of this city?

We’re debriefing now. Interviews in the park with the big Red camera back on its tripod and Michele translating while responsible for impeccable sound.

These men are thieves—criminal scavengers—but they are also poets. On camera Andy says:

“Bob, what we do is the same, but we are different. You make people laugh. I make people cry.”

Part one of this story. — Next installment.

This is Part 20 of THE MAKING OF OUR NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC DOCUMENTARY, PICKPOCKET KING. The film is about us, Bob Arno and Bambi Vincent. We are “thiefhunters in paradise.” The paradise we chose for the story is the warm and wild city of Naples, Italy, home to the world’s best pickpockets. The documentary premieres December 2 at 8pm ET/PT on the National Geographic Channel.
Right. There’s no part 19. The original Part 19 is here.

—Originally posted 10/410 and soon thereafter password-protected at the request of the producer.

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

A seafood orgy with thieves

dinner-with-thieves-3

Dinner with thieves, continued. Carafes of white wine land on the table. I join Andy and Lou and have beer. Among much laughter, the feast begins, family style. Plates of bruschetta arrive, and large rounds of mozzarella draped in prosciutto. Andy stands, carves the cheese, and serves everyone. Before he finishes, platters of fried items are placed on the table. Fried cheese, fried mashed potatoes, fried fishballs on sticks, fried squid, fried octopus. Before anyone begins, all glasses must clink all other glasses. Then men stretch across the table, serving themselves and each other with their hands. Ed puts handfuls of crisp-fried squid on my plate, and squeezes a lemon over it all.

dinner-with-thieves-2

Bob and several of the pickpockets are standing again, clowning around and swiping stuff. Watch me! No, wait—try it this way! Our plates are cleared and fresh ones laid down. The room is thick with smoke and loud with laughter. Ed is taking pictures with his mobile phone, or maybe he’s taking video. Bowls of stewed octopus come, and others heaped with steamed mussels. Bob borrows someone’s lit cigarette and pushes it though a handkerchief—no hole!—no burn! The men love it. More beer, more wine, more bread… Bob calls for dessert—”maybe some fruit.” The thieves laugh. Not yet! We have more courses coming!

dinner-with-thieves-1

Michele is translating for six pickpockets and Bob, as fast as he can. In such demand, he sometimes forgets he’s also sound recordist for a big-time film and someone has to remind him: “Michele, the boom!” I make a little conversation with Ed, on my left, but since I don’t have a translator, I mostly just observe.

Pasta vongole

A huge platter of pasta comes, covered with buttery mussels and a variety of clams. Its fragrant steam masks the cigarette smoke for a few minutes. It’s a work of art. The pasta is thick and chewy, the clams sweet, garlicky, divine. This dish, served in the den of thieves, is my favorite of all the spectacular meals enjoyed in our host city. It pains me to withhold credit where credit is due. I want to shout the name of the restaurant, and the city we’re in. I will… later. [Naples!]

dinner-with-thieves-5

There’s serious eating for a while. This is food to pay attention to, and these men are no strangers to fine cuisine. Another platter is added to the table, this one heaped with shell fish, crustaceans, and fish. Really, it is too much. Yet Ed is popping baby squids into my mouth with his fingers, and I’m enjoying them. There is some metaphor here—something about the fingers of a thief being exempt from all rules.

dinner-with-thieves-6

The men rise for more demonstrations. Bob swipes the restaurant owner’s wallet, then Andy shows how he can take cash without removing the wallet. Finally, they get to that special front pocket technique, unique to this city. Andy crushes against Bob, as if on a lurching bus. Frank holds Bob in place from the other side. Andy removes bill after bill from Bob’s front pocket, handing them off to Marc. Then Andy turns and skulks away. Playing along, Bob shouts “who took my money!” Marc passes the cash back to Andy, who presents it to Bob with a half bow and hand up in apology. Bob accepts the cash and Andy departs.

Left: Andy takes cash from Bob's front pocket. Right: After Bob's accusation, Andy returns the cash—but his left hand palms half of it in a practiced short-change move.
Left: Andy takes cash from Bob’s front pocket. Right: After Bob’s accusation, Andy returns the cash—but his left hand palms half of it in a practiced short-change move.

“We return the money when we have to,” he explains, “but it’s never the same amount.” Exactly like a magician, he has palmed half the cash before returning it. The victim never counts it on the spot. Andy grins hugely, full of pride.

Lou, now retired, sits out most of the demonstrations, but can’t help getting into the action to show his own wallet extractions. He rocks the wallet—zig-zags it out. The demonstrations and raucous laughter extend through dessert and beyond; through coffee, through liqueur. Then it’s time for picture-taking. All the thieves want to get between Bob and me for a photo.

dinner-with-thieves-4

There’s a surprise: everyone signs full releases agreeing to be in our film, faces shown. We are ecstatic. The thought of blurring these expressive, lively faces was distressing. Now these men, the true stars of our pickpocket documentary, will be laid bare; not only their identities, but their emotions, their humanity.

Andy demo

And there’s a challenge. The pickpockets have admired Bob’s steals, but insist their work is different. Can he perform in their world? Has he got the heart? By that they mean the guts—the nerve. They summons Bob to a test. We’ll meet in the park. Tomorrow.

Part one of this story. — Next installment.

This is Part 18 of THE MAKING OF OUR NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC DOCUMENTARY, PICKPOCKET KING. The film is about us, Bob Arno and Bambi Vincent. We are “thiefhunters in paradise.” The paradise we chose for the story is the warm and wild city of Naples, Italy, home to the world’s best pickpockets. The documentary premieres December 2 at 8pm ET/PT on the National Geographic Channel.

—Originally posted 10/210 and soon thereafter password-protected at the request of the producer.

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

A pickpocket party begins

Restaurant setup

3-oclock

Dinner with thieves. It’s 3:00. The film crew’s still perfecting camera angles, lighting, and table arrangements. I’ve taken my seat as requested, so cameras can be adjusted behind me.

I’m antsy. Bob’s irritated. All invitees arrived on time at 2. They’ve been asked to wait in a nearby café. But for how long? They’re our guests and I’m feeling rude.

The restaurant has closed to the public. Its owners and staff stand in the back, arms crossed, unsmiling. Its lighting has been draped with black or white fabric and our own lights have been arranged on large stands. My eyes bounce from the frenzied crew to my watch to the prominent tanks of live seafood bubbling noisily. Sound man Michele frowns at the hum but, as a homeboy, he knows he can’t ask the restaurant owner to turn off the vital air supply to the pricey perishables.

Restaurant

Bob and I were skeptical as the taxi cruised along the unfamiliar streets of this neighborhood. This small restaurant, chosen by Andy, is the best-looking address on the street. Inside, its homey atmosphere is comforting. We can’t help wondering: are the owners relatives?; if not, do they know who today’s guests are?

We thought this gathering would just be a dinner, maybe a party, but it’s more—it’s an ad hoc film set. The crew are now trying to rig a camera to fly over the table. Our producer and official whip-cracker, Kath, is putting on the pressure to open the doors; but sound must be perfect. Lighting and cameras must be just so. I’m wondering if we’ll have any guests at all by the time they’re ready. Finally, at 4:00, the thieves are called in.

Restaurant setup

The pickpockets arrive, smiling: Frank, and his brother Ed; Andy, and his brother Lou; Lou’s son-in-law Marc; and Clay. Handshakes and hugs all around, as at any dinner party. Then Andy goes straight for Bob’s pockets, feeling him up. With a flourish and a spin, he whips out a wallet from Bob’s breast pocket, laughing. To complete the charade, he hands it off to Marc, who skulks away. The room cracks up. Applause.

Frank has dressed for the occasion, in a purple silk shirt. When we first met him on the bus he was clean-shaven. The next day in the park he signed a release agreeing to be in our film. Now he has a mustache. Has he grown it as a disguise? For a debonaire film-star look? I forget to ask him.

Part one of this story. — Next installment.

This is Part 17 of THE MAKING OF OUR NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC DOCUMENTARY, PICKPOCKET KING. The film is about us, Bob Arno and Bambi Vincent. We are “thiefhunters in paradise.” The paradise we chose for the story is the warm and wild city of Naples, Italy, home to the world’s best pickpockets. The documentary premieres December 2 at 8pm ET/PT on the National Geographic Channel.

—Originally posted 10/1/10 and soon thereafter password-protected at the request of the producer.

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.