thief – Pickpocket Bob Arno

Pigeon Poop Pickpocket in Marbella, Spain

Pickpocket in Barcelona, Spain. The pigeon poop pickpocket ploy. — The pigeon poop pickpocket, 1998.

The famous pigeon poop pickpocket of Barcelona has been spotted in Marbella, Spain. Is he enjoying a working vacation in the southern coastal resort town? Is he now living there in order to enjoy the richer pickings of Brits with second homes instead of low-budget holiday-makers? More than one pickpocket has complained to us that Barcelona’s tourists don’t yield the wished-for wealth, though they make up for their cash-poor wallets in sheer number.

So the pigeon poop perp first spotted by us in Barcelona in 1998, then again in 2008, has not retired and is not currently languishing in jail. Where is he now?

“Well, I can report he’s still at large some 8 yrs after this blog thread started,” reports Pete, of Bedford, UK. “I got ‘done’ this morning, 22nd July 2017 in Marbella, Spain. And there’s little doubt from your photos it was the very same guy.”

Pigeon poop pickpocket ploy — The pigeon poop perpetrator, 2008.

Site of the pigeon poop pickpocket ploy with victim Pete. Avenida Mercado, Marbella, Spain.

Pete, Marbella victim of the famous pigeon poop pickpocket of Barcelona. [Photo courtesy of Pete.]

Many pickpockets bravely practice the face-to-face pigeon poop ploy. Our man isn’t the only one—but he’s famous because Bob Arno and I documented his M.O. long ago in our book. Also because he’s had a long and prominent career employing this devious method. And he’s famous for his duplicitous smile. His M.O. is tried and true, explained in the posts linked above. Here, faithfully according to script, is how it happened to Pete yesterday in Marbella:

“I’d been walking and was sitting on a wall separating two pavements in a quiet part of town (Avenida Mercado). I saw a little guy with a several day growth, big glasses, baseball hat, and the same features as in the photos, plus a few years, shuffling along on the lower pavement behind me, as if he was lost. He must have been sizing me up.

“Next thing, I felt some sort of liquid stuff hit my head and shoulders, put my hand round and back it came with bits of a sort of brown porridge on it. Initial reaction was to look up to see if someone had chucked something out of a window. But no open windows above. So then I thought bird shit? But was a bit confused when I sniffed the stuff and it smelt of cocoa drink.”

The pigeon poop perp learned long ago that the yuck factor trumps logic. Any old goop will serve, as long as it’s disgusting and the victim wants it off.

“Just then, the little guy suddenly appeared coming back behind me, and called out ‘Bird? Bird’ to me, as if to say he knew it was a bird that got me. I shrugged, still in disgust at the thought, when he motioned me to come across to see him. I hesitated. He insisted, waving a bottle of water and a packet of tissues. So I approached him. He commiserated.”

The pigeon poop pickpocket has his psychology down. He knows how to behave in order to gain his victims’ confidence. (Hence the word con artist.)

“He started brushing me down, then circled around me and said “You’ve got some on your back, take of your rucksack, go on, take it off”. At this stage I was kind of overwhelmed at his concern to help me. He even got me to circle around whilst cleaning me down, which meant of course that my rucksack was behind me and out of my sight for 20 secs or so. Then, he got me to take off my shirt, indicating it was fouled.”

In his Academy-Award-winning role as good samaritan, the pigeon poop pickpocket performs with aplomb. So convincing is his good-guy cameo, his discombobulated victims trust him like obedient children. Just get the yucky stuff off me, please!

“Looking back, my collaboration with this suggestion was pure idiocy because there I was standing with no shirt on when he suddenly took his leave of me, gesturing to keep the water and tissues he’d given me. Even then, I had no idea of the advantage he’d taken of me. After shaking down my shirt, I put it back on and slowly walked on, partly in disgust at, as I imagined, having had a bird score a direct hit on me, and partly full of admiration for this altruistic citizen.”

…And the Oscar goes to…

“Half an hour later I walked into a small store to buy a cheap tee-shirt to replace the fouled one. I took out my wallet from the small pocket on the outside of my rucksack where I normally keep it, to pay. I opened it and to my horror it was completely empty of cash, whereas only an hour ago it most certainly contained two €50 notes and one £50 note. The penny dropped. This ‘kind citizen’ thief had had the damned cheek to remove, open, drain and replace my wallet whilst he was ostensibly brushing down my back. All in 20 seconds, no problem to a skilled operator.

“My first reaction was to go and hunt him down, as he was most likely ‘working’ Marbella old town that day. My second, that a confrontation, in which I might well have grabbed his bag, could have been turned against me as an attempted robbery on him. So, still in a bit of shock, I decided this was just a painful lesson in life that had cost me €150. Then I thought… next time I’m in Marbella, I will hunt him down, track him from a distance, and get some telephoto shots of him working his con trick on some other poor soul, before shouting a warning to the victim. But then I started my Google search for ‘bird dropping con man’ and up came this blog. All I can say is that this smooth operator needs his picture up in every tourist area of Spain. Thanks for your interest on this site!”

Like 70-80% of pickpocket victims, Pete did not file a police report. I don’t blame him at all—there are many reasons not to. He did complete my survey though, which is extremely helpful in enabling me tally incidences and frequency of reporting. [Thank you so much Pete!]

As I said in my second story of the pigeon poop pickpocket (this is my third):

This is a perfect con. (Con comes from confidence, right?) He plays the good Samaritan. He gains your confidence. He creates a strategy to touch your body wherever he wants to, wherever the disgusting mess supposedly is. A pickpocket can’t steal without touching, right? Why wait for an opportunity? That’s for amateurs. Create one! I call these thieves strategists and they are devious. Look, he makes you grateful to him. He desensitizes you to his touch. And he employs the yuck factor, taking advantage of the truth that bird shit directly triggers the ick region of the brain, a highly effective distraction.

He’s still out there, I’m sure. And he’ll find unsuspecting victims every day. All we can do is spread the word.

Pickpockets look like tourists

Pickpockets look like tourists, and it’s not by accident. Replete with water bottles, backpacks, camera, baseball caps, these “props” are intended to camouflage the pickpockets’ unscrupulous objective. If she looks much like you, a tourist, you won’t think twice when she, just another “tourist,” stands beside you. Her costume elicits trust.

Pickpockets look like tourists. The man just witnessed this woman stealing his wife's wallet. He grabbed and held onto the pickpocket. — The man just witnessed this woman stealing his wife’s wallet. He grabbed and held onto the pickpocket.

Pickpockets look like tourists. The victim identified this woman as the pickpocket's partner. — The victim identified this woman as the pickpocket’s partner.

We travelers make subtle, unconscious snap judgments of those around us. One person may cause no reaction, no alarm bells, while another prompts a slight step away, an extra glance, without even thinking. Why? What is it?

Pickpockets in Girona

The two women you see pictured here strolled through the German Garden in Girona, Spain, just like any other visitors. They shouldn’t have raised an eyebrow. But they turned where “BJ” and her husband turned, and they paused where BJ and her husband paused. BJ made a subliminal note of that.

Still, that apparently innocent behavior wasn’t unsettling in the least. Stopping on a lookout balcony, BJ raised her camera toward the beautiful view. It was only seconds later when her husband shouted and grabbed onto one of the women that BJ realized something was amiss. In fact, what flashed though her mind in the first instant was that her husband had saved the woman from jumping.

BJ saw her own purple/pink wallet in the thief’s hand and snatched it back. She can’t recall the woman ever being close enough to touch her, let alone having enough time to open the zipper of her purse. The nearness of these ordinary women was not a threat, not a thought, not even on her radar.

Exactly the reaction, or lack of reaction, that this sort of sneak thief depends upon.

However, they were on BJ’s husband’s radar. He’d kept half an eye on the two as they followed too quickly and stopped when he and BJ stopped. He saw the blond go into BJ’s purse.

“Hubby” held onto the thief and raised a ruckus until the women’s “thug” protector arrived, all chest-thrusting-threatening, though he was a young punk and a foot shorter than Hubby.

Pickpockets look like tourists

The photo that BJ had the presence of mind to capture is wonderful. There is shouting going on, but we don’t see it. Hubby wears an expression of shock and disbelief (I was asked to blur his face.) as he holds onto the thief and looks desperately for help. Meanwhile, the thief smiles beatifically! Her posture shows no distress, no resistance. She looks straight into the camera… relaxed! She’s in the firm grip of a shouting man whose wife she’s just stolen from, and she appears amused!

She knew how this incident would conclude. Probably, she’d been in the same position many times. “You have your stuff, so what’s the problem?” she asked. Maybe she even giggled.

But to BJ and her husband, this was a serious criminal matter. They’d caught a thief in the act, had her in a vice grip, and wanted her arrested. “We didn’t back down,” BJ said, “but what do you do with them when you’ve caught them?” There were no police around.

And there was this very aggressive thug. “Eventually there was this ‘he could have a knife’ moment so hubby let the girl go and they left,” BJ told me.

Both BJ and Hubby had taken all the appropriate safe-stowing precautions. BJ’s wallet had been zipped in and attached to her purse. The wallet contained only a little cash, her driver’s license, and one credit card that could be quickly cancelled.

Unsatisfying ending

BJ and her husband thought they could make a difference. They thought they could put this one trio of thieves out of business, at least for a while.

But the pickpockets walked away, smiling. For BJ and her husband, it was not a satisfying conclusion. They never did find a police officer in Girona, and those in Barcelona were uninterested.

In the beginning of our thiefhunting many years ago, Bob Arno and I thought, like BJ and Hubby, that we could make a difference by bringing video evidence to the police. We received the same reaction our brave travelers got: a laugh, a puff of air, a confirmation that yeah, the police know who they are, what they do, even where they live. But laws are loose and pickpockets make it their business to know the laws. All over Europe thieves tell us: more than anyplace, they like to work in Spain.

Girona pickpocket spain thief

A Pickpocket’s life story

A Pickpocket's story: To three cameras and an audio recorder, Pedro told a pickpocket’s story. He frequently turned to look at me, putting his face in the picture.

A pickpocket's story: “Pedro” spoke to us freely in a restaurant in Paris. He eventually even told us his real name. Paris police know him by his two crooked little fingers. — “Pedro” spoke to us freely in a restaurant in Paris. He eventually even told us his real name. Paris police know him by his two crooked little fingers.

Bob and I interviewed “Pedro” in Paris a few months ago. We first saw him at a coffee bar inside Gare de Lyon, a huge train station. To us, it was clear that he was observing someone. We watched and waited a short distance away. Eventually Pedro abandoned his prey, but we were certain enough of his profession. Bob pounced on him as he was leaving the station, chatting him up.

Surprisingly, Pedro spoke good English. For 20 minutes out in the streets, Bob stuck to him like glue trying to convince him to talk to us. I tailed the two of them, first from a distance, then joining up. Unable to get rid of us, Pedro nervously asked for our IDs.

“Maybe you’re a cop,” he said to Bob.

“But I don’t look like a cop.”

“Nobody looks like a cop. Maybe you’re somebody that works with a cop.” Pedro fake-laughed. ”What do you want,” he repeated. And, giving up on denials: “How did you find me?”

“I’ve followed you for an hour,” Bob said, clearly shocking and confusing Pedro. “Talk to me. You’ll enjoy it!”

“Okay, we’ll talk, and I’m going to tell you the truth. You grow in this job. You start to feel who sees you, who’s watching. That’s why I’m surprised you followed me.”

“What do you want most out of life, other than money?” Bob asked as Pedro led us to a nearby brasserie.

“Education for my child in Peru.”

We settled into the booth with the least noise and best light. Pedro asked the staff to lower the music volume. Bob ordered lunch for himself. Pedro ordered orange juice. Bob and I quickly set up an array of video cameras to film Pedro, with his permission, only from the back. Then we got started.

A pickpocket’s story

Call me Pedro. I’ve never used drugs. No one else in my family does this job. I have a daughter—we talk on the phone. She doesn’t know my work. I’m nervous when I work, all the time. But you have to control it.

In France, the first time you’re arrested, you probably won’t go to jail. The second time, maybe. The third time, you will go, maybe for three months. It depends: if you work alone, it’s not too bad. If you are working with three or four, it’s a gang and you go to jail for longer, maybe one year.

The amount of money I make varies. It depends on many factors. The place is very important. If you want to make money, you have to go to the big hotels, the five-stars. You use psychology, so you’re not suspected. You must be well-dressed. If you look like a good man, the person working the doors doesn’t keep you out. You are a good man! You have to feel like a good man to avoid security.

The real money is in the airports, the train stations, the big hotels, the nice hotels, the 5-stars… that’s my work. Sometimes I go on trains while they’re in the station, waiting for someone to put a bag down. But only before the train leaves. I don’t ride on the train.

Wait, someone’s calling me—it’s my wife.
[Pedro, smiling, speaks Spanish, describes us to the person on the phone.]

I was in Gare de Lyon today because I was following somebody. I might follow someone 20 minutes, one hour, if I’m working by myself.

A Pickpocket's Story: My first cautious, secretive photos show the well-dressed Pedro on the right, Bob on my left. — My first cautious, secretive photos show the well-dressed Pedro on the right, Bob on my left.

When judging a victim, I look at their baggage and their shoes. But good shoes alone are not enough. Sometimes people have a lot of cash because they don’t pay tax. The black people, the Chinese, the Arabian people.

I might first see them when I work at the airport. Then I follow them until the right moment. In the hotel it’s easier, because they put everything on the floor.

I first saw the man I was following today in the station. This month is vacation for people. They don’t put cash in the bank, they keep it, they don’t pay tax, they don’t use credit cards. I wanted to take his bag. He put it on the floor and went to buy a coffee. But a lady came near and there were a lot of people, so it didn’t work.

In Paris… in a week… it depends. I can make 10,000 euros, 5,000. I don’t think that’s a lot. In another week, I might make less. It’s luck.

I don’t use the credit cards. I’m looking for cash. Or maybe sometimes there’s a nice watch in the bag. I don’t use credit cards because I don’t have the PIN. For me, if I don’t have the PIN, I throw it out. Sometimes I put all the credit cards and ID in the post office box.

I was arrested last week. Maybe because I was working with other people. Maybe the police followed me. So now, I’m working by myself.

When I need partners, I go to the South American restaurants and I find them. I say please, give me a hand.

Yeah, arrested last week. I had to talk nice to the judge. She asked me, do you want to say something? I explained that I’m new in this country and it’s my first time. She believed me. She gave me a chance, said I can go. But I have to come back another day. A good judge will give you one chance because you have no precedent. She gave me 30 seconds, one minute to speak. I said I’m sorry, it’s my first time, I’m confused, please, I want one more chance. So I have to go back in one month. Then I will say the truth: yes, I took it, because I was confused. And I’ll say: forgive me. She’s going to ask me if I have a job and I’m going to say I’m working sometimes, I don’t have residency, but I’m working.

I was nervous in front of the judge because I could go to prison. But I’m not; and my partners also went free. But now I work alone.

A Pickpocket's Story: Pedro’s easy identifier: crooked little fingers to do his crooked work. — Pedro’s easy identifier: crooked little fingers to do his crooked work.

I want to go back to my country. I’ve been to Spain, to Italy…. I hear the police in Barcelona are easy, and they’re harder here in Paris.

I can tell you about the police. The police here are smart, more professional. In Spain, they don’t do a good job. They don’t care. In Madrid, sometimes they say you have to pay 500, 300 euros, and you pay it, and you continue, and you pay and you continue. The life is good in Spain because it’s cheap, the country is cheap to live.

I’ve been to Copenhagen, Oslo, and Stockholm. I was in Stockholm for only two days a lot of years ago. I took big money, and then I took the train and, pssst! I left. Only two days there.

France interview paris pickpocket thief

Police order civilians to arrest Mumbai pickpocket

Chowpatty Beach, along which runs Marine Drive, where the Mumbai pickpocket was observed and arrested.

A mumbai pickpocket at work and arrested.

Our law enforcement friends in Mumbai do some creative police work. Methods that would never be tolerated in the U.S.

Okay, so they knew that a gang of pickpockets was targeting people on Marine Drive, the famous beach road. At 3 a.m. a week ago Thursday, a uniformed cop stood watching with a birds-eye view from a pedestrian overpass. Constable Bhaidas Chavana, the police officer, had his eye on a 16-year-old boy sitting beside a sleeping man.

Up on the overpass, Constable Chavan stopped a passerby who happened to be a photographer on a night assignment. Then he stopped a juvenile, also walking along. He enlisted the two civilians to run down to the beach road and nab the criminal! He ordered them to do it! One of them a child, the other presumably carrying expensive photography equipment! Can you imagine?

This must not be odd in Mumbai because the two citizens obeyed, trotting down to the beach as they were directed to, and grabbing the pickpocket. In the commotion, the victim woke up and confirmed that 500 rupees were gone. The pickpocket was searched—by the enlisted civilians—but they found no cash on him.

The Mumbai pickpocket

By then the constable arrived and his expertise proved itself. He turned up the thief’s shirt collar, felt for an opened seam, and from it withdrew the victim’s 500 rupees. Then he found a razor blade hidden in a slit seam of the pickpocket’s shirt cuff.

The pickpocket admitted that he’d dipped into the pockets of 16 other people in the area that night. Where then, was the rest of his loot? He also admitted to being a drug user. Perhaps he purchased drugs with the cash he stole earlier—weed was found in his pants pocket. Or he may have paid off a boss or a debt, or simply stashed his loot for safekeeping.

You can read a first-hand account by the photographer.

India mumbai pickpocket police thief