thieves – Page 7 – Pickpocket Bob Arno

The Thieves of Naples

NAPLES, ITALY, the week before christmas. POURING rain. 3:30 p.m. and it’s already dark, with gushing rivers flowing through the streets. Our luggage didn’t arrive, so we wear the clothes we flew in. I’m in nice leather boots with heels. Not good for slogging through gushing torrents. Not good for broken up cobblestone streets and cracked pavement. We’re so happy back. Out we go.

We’ve come to explore the possibilities of a second film project, to meet with a renown screen writer, and—as in Pickpocket King—to find the elusive pickpocket Angelo.

Wading through town, we linger at a bus stop and discuss the pros and cons of being seen by thieves so early in our visit. Surely they’ll see us before we see them. We don’t know how they’ll react since the broadcast of our National Geographic documentary about them. The Italian version of the film is on YouTube with 140,000 views and almost 1,000 comments; 600 likes, 150 dislikes. How many times was the film broadcast on Italian tv? Do pickpockets look at YouTube? Are they proud of the film? embarrassed? angry?

We watch a few buses come and go, then plod through Piazza Municipio to another bus stop and stand in the dark, in the downpour under our hotel’s borrowed umbrellas (unmarked!), observing. We debate: would pickpockets be out in force targeting holiday shoppers? Or stay out of the rain? We loiter there in the dark, in the deluge, getting the feel of the city and just enjoying being back. The traffic is as wild as ever. The gutters are overflowing with wide, deep rivers, making it impossible to cross the street. I mourn my formerly-fancy aubergine-colored boots.

Next morning we get an email from Franco, the pickpocket in our film we’ve been communicating with these past two years. “So you’re in town! Clay [another pickpocket; not his real name] called me when he saw you in heavy rain in Piazza Municipio last night. I rushed down there but you were gone.”

Word spreads fast! If Clay knows we’re in town, and Franco knows, we can be pretty sure the whole criminal underworld knows. We don’t know their true reaction to the film, except that Franco is very unhappy that it’s up on Italian YouTube and is demanding we get it taken down. I can’t believe the thieves are concerned about being recognized—they’ve been doing what they do for decades. Everyone knows who they are and what they do. The film must have inspired a little pride—and some amount of jealousy.

My boots have dried up perfectly (with a lot of help from the hairdryer). We go out for a stroll, heading for the main train station—a very long walk. We pass through several pickpocket hot spots along the way, but we don’t dally. As we walk, a young man pops out of a shoe store: “Hey! I know you—you’re the guy in the pickpocket film!” In Italian, of course. Bob waves and we keep walking. Later, passing again, we let the man take some pictures of Bob. Strange that Bob would be recognized out of context like that. The film called him an American—there’s no reason he should be noticed at a distance.

Close to the train station the action picks up. We approach a sidewalk three-shell game. The players refuse to speak to Bob—unless he pays them. We walk another block and an iPad is quietly offered for sale. We let the seller give us a complete demo and all the specs. Bob explains he knows all the “pacco man” bait-and-switch tricks and just wants a demonstration of the switch. The thief’s not ready to admit anything, until—Franco zooms up on his scooter and greets Bob and me with hugs and kisses. Franco the pickpocket—his warm greeting instantly gives us street-cred. The pacco man goes boggle-eyed.

This is Part 1. Read Part 2.

Why Pickpocketing Continues

How Laws Tie Hands, And Cut Them Off

Sharif spat a mouthful of blood as he laid his right arm across a wide tree stump. He had chewed the inside of his cheeks to shreds in the days since he’d been caught picking pockets in the Grand Mosque at Mecca. As an Egyptian man in Saudi Arabia, he was not entitled to extradition for his crime. He was to be punished swiftly and in public.

Meanwhile, in Spain, Kharem dusted himself off after a police beating, gave a fleeting wistful thought to the cash he surrendered, and went back to work.

“I never hear of pickpockets,” said Dina, an Egyptian woman who works as a tour guide with Abercrombie & Kent in Cairo. “I have never had a tourist in my charge complain of theft. Neither have my colleagues. If someone were to try to steal, the people around would beat him black and blue. They would knock him down and kick him, even burn his fingertips. It just does not happen here. Cairo is such a crowded city, we must live like brothers and sisters.”

Contrast Egypt with Italy, where there are just too many thieves for the police to deal with. Without exception, every police officer we interviewed throughout Italy (and much of Europe), threw up his hands and blew a jetstream of air at our first mention of pickpockets.

And while each officer showed a thorough knowledge of the perpetrators and their methods, we found a serious lack of record-keeping. No information is shared among countries, among agencies, even among stations in a single city. In fact, most officers do not even have computers into which to feed the data.

In Venice, the Municipale Police told us they are only interested in Venice, not in Italy or Europe. Because they never see the actual crime, the squad can’t arrest or jail; they “just open the door to the next city” so the problem becomes someone else’s.

Still, what’s the value of numbers, patterns, and percentages? Italy’s laws work against pickpocket police, and this is typical across Europe. Almost every European official we interviewed (with the notable exceptions of those in Naples and St. Petersburg) blamed the preponderance of pickpocketing and bag-snatching on illegal immigrants. But the countries simply cannot get rid of their illegal aliens.

In Italy, the first problem is administrative. When immigrants are caught without papers, they are politely given 15 days to pack up and leave the country. They are released. And that’s the end of it. The immigrants just do not leave. They do not choose to return to the hellholes from which they came.

Secondly, many of the foreigners have no passports or identification. And without documentation, the north African countries from which many of these people come refuse to accept their repatriation. We cannot expect to see a reduction in street crime thanks to law enforcement without the laws to back them. Their hands are tied.

In Egypt, where people live “like brothers and sisters,” Cairenes live side by side in rivalry and harmony; even men stroll arm in arm, holding hands. Across Egypt, a quasi-vigilantism controls low-level crimes. Misdemeanors and serious offenses are dealt with according to criminal code.
Egypt’s judicial system is based on British and Italian models, but modified to suit the country’s Islamic heritage and influenced by its ancient laws. Most of Egypt’s laws are consistent with or at least derived from Islamic law, the sharia.

If Egyptian pickpocket Sharif Ali Ibrahim had committed his crime in Egypt and had been caught by alert citizens, he would have been severely beaten. If he’d been caught by the police, he’d serve a significant prison term. And if he’d been found guilty of stealing from one of Egypt’s precious tourists, his sentence would have been trebled.

But Sharif committed his crime in Saudi Arabia, in fact at Islam’s holiest place. He had picked the pockets of worshippers praying in the Grand Mosque at Mecca. Therefore, following strict Islamic sharia, Sharif Ali Ibrahim’s right hand was chopped off with a sword, in public.

Excerpt from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams
Chapter Six: Public Transportation—Talk About Risky…

egypt Italy pickpocket police spain thieves

Portrait of a hanger thief

This man had weighed his bag and was now shedding stuff when I saw him at the check-in counter in Pisa airport. What he removed first was a dozen identical wooden hangers. He leaned the stack against the nearest trash can and fiddled with his luggage. We were both early, before the check-in desks had opened.

“Gotta dump the stolen hangers?” I tossed off.

“They’re not stolen,” he stuttered.

“So where’d they come from?”

“I had them.”

“You travel with hangers?”

“I brought them from home.”

“You stay in hotels that don’t provide hangers?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“What hotel is that?”

“Uh. Um. Actually… I work on a ship. The ones they give us are… uh, wire.”

“So you bring your own.”

“Uh huh. Yeah.”

“What ship do you work on?”

“Um. Never mind.”

“Must be Silversea. That’s the sort of ship that would have beautiful wooden hangers like those.” I had noticed a Silversea ship off the coast that morning. Inside information! It freaked him out. The guy became fidgety. Looked nervous.

“Don’t worry, I don’t report hanger thieves,” I said. But I was glad to see his cold sweat. It’s thieves like him that cause hotels to install those maddening anti-theft hookless hangers.

Both our check-in counters opened. He finished before me. He picked up his stack of hangers as he walked away. I wonder if he tried to carry them on the plane. Or if he just wanted to trash the evidence.

hotel thieves travel

Child phone thieves answer questions

Florin and his 13-year-old pal emphasize that they are not pickpockets—they are phone thieves. They steal phones from tabletops, not from people. The distinction may be moot if you were the owner of a phone stolen by Florin & Friend.

Even with a monstrous TV camera aimed at them inches away, the boys spoke openly about their work. Florin even donned a fluffy microphone. As the team’s elder at about 20, he was its tongue-tied spokesman, frustrated by foreign language difficulties. He and the kid spoke Romanian, the kid and Bob spoke in rudimentary French.

We found them on La Rambla again, one month after our first conversation with them. Look closely at their photos. Do these children look suspicious? Would you be concerned about their nearness to you? If you don’t recognize the silent languages of thieves, you’d find them disarming.

Message to readers: Do not leave your smartphone on cafe tables, even while you’re sitting right there.

We’d first spotted Florin, the kid, and another youngster outside a cafe in Barcelona in July. Quick on the draw, I caught them on video as they attempted to steal iPhones from cafe tables, right under the noses of the phone-owners. I’ve already described how Florin & Friends steal smartphones. Like magicians, they practice a refined version of the Postcard Trick.

Returning to Barcelona with a German TV crew (from RTL Punkt 12) in August, we found the boys still at large and at work (no surprise). Having watched Bob Arno on YouTube in the interim, they agreed readily to speak on television. They’re at ease on camera, even eager; yet… naive, as if unaware they’ll be broadcast across the land. Florin ignored the camera, while the kid looked right into it like a professional PR rep pitching viable career options. They showed no discomfort; they did not mug for the camera. Pretty much, they ignored it. Question: How could we fail to ask why they admitted to being thieves on TV.

“I am not pickpocket.” Florin stressed that he doesn’t know a thing about pickpocketing, only about stealing phones from tables. We believed him.

Unfolding paper notes from their back pockets, both boys demonstrated a variety of finger techniques for the under-the-cover grip. Unlike most other thieves we’ve interviewed, neither of these was the slightest concerned about demonstrating thievery moves in public. Must be their youth and inexperience. Perhaps they haven’t yet been in jail. Question: why did we fail to ask if they’d ever been arrested or jailed?

The kids were unhurried and, although they did not appear to be nervous, both were childishly fidgety. Florin frequently scrubbed his face with his palms in frustration, partly understanding our questions in English but unable to respond without his pal’s French translations.

The youngster, all pimply and peachfuzz, lifted his shirt to air his flat belly, his hands flittering around his middle. I take this handsome dusky boy with his sweet smile as a Roma; but not Florin. We don’t often see mixed gangs. Question: why didn’t we ask?

Bob Arno: How many phones do you steal in a day?

Florin: Maybe two, three, four. Sometimes five, sometimes none.

BA: Where do you sell them? Do you have a fence?

F: No, I sell directly to buyers.

BA: What do you get for a phone?

F: 100 to 300 euros, depending on the model. Average €200, older ones €100.

BA: How long have you been in Barcelona?

F: Only six months, but I’ve been in Spain for five years.

BA: Do you think you might try working in France or Germany?

F: Not France, because other groups are already in control there. Not Germany, the police there are too tough. We are afraid of the German police. The police here are no problem.

BA: How many people in Barcelona are expert at this method of stealing phones from tables?

F: One thousand. [The two boys concur.]

BA: How many are from Romania?

F: About one hundred who steal, not just phones from tables. Pickpockets, too.

Despite the midsummer heat, the boys hung on each others shoulders. The affectionate child kept a hand on Florin’s shoulder whenever possible, habitually rubbing his own stomach in an unconscious manner, as if petting a puppy.

So many unanswered (unasked) questions! The impromptu interview is rarely perfect. Complicated by a multitude of factors, we’re usually content, if not triumphant, with what we get. We deal with criminals in our line of work: skittish, cagey, angry, fearful—we never know. To enable any conversation at all, we must firstly make our subjects comfortable. There is tension: while they suss us out, while we figure out our best tactic. One wrong move, one wrong question, and the subject walks. Like Zelig, we tailor our temper and pick a posture commensurate with our quarry. Later we regret, then accept our omissions.

At the end of the long interview and exchange of demonstrations, after handshakes and multilingual goodbyes, the boys crossed into the center of La Rambla. With the camera zooming to follow them from a distance, the young crooks disappeared into the unsuspecting tourist crowd. Our kind of thiefhunting means you catch ’em, and you throw ’em back in.

Barcelona phone pickpocket spain thiefhunting thieves

Bob Arno pickpocketed in Bali—video

What kind of monkey business is going on when the thief rejects cash and throws bills taken from the pocket onto the ground? Watch the video!

The backstory: a monkey in Bali, Indonesia, attacked Bob, unprovoked. It leapt onto Bob’s leg and dug though his pants pocket. Finding only a crumpled tissue, which it threw to the ground, it scampered up onto Bob’s shoulder and began rifling his shoulder bag.

That gave us an idea. We thought about what pickpockets around the world have told us: they look for “the print of the money.” That is, how the shape of a wallet or credit card shows itself through the pocket fabric, how a jacket hangs heavier on one side when there’s a fat wallet in one pocket, how a pocket bulges.

So we returned to the monkeys with five bananas. We put a banana in Bob’s pocket with cash on top. A monkey spotted “the print of the goodies” immediately and went for it, tossing the cash to the ground, digging out the banana, then sitting down a safe distance away for a gobbled feast.

We repeated this four more times in different areas, and each monkey’s behavior was the same. One almost tore Bob’s pants. Another bit through the fabric in its haste.

Bob’s pockets have hosted many thieves’ hands. As thiefhunters looking for pickpockets we use the exact same technique. We place the bait deep in a pocket—tempting, but not too obvious or easy to get. Then we stroll among thieves with antennas up, nerve-endings fine-tuned, and cameras rolling.

Bali Bob Arno thieves

Bag tag sabotage

For various reasons, my luggage is hard to steal from. I take hundreds of flights every year, and so far, thank goodness, nothing has gone missing permanently. It’s no secret that there’s a problem with some airline and TSA employees stealing from luggage. It occurred to me that those thieves might sabotage the tags on luggage they’ve stolen from, in order to make the bag “disappear,” rather than to be traced to their handling of it.

Thieves who steal luggage off the carousels are another matter. These have flourished since 9/11, when “security” was taken from the baggage claim area in order to focus on security at the gates.
Currently, there’s a bag theft epidemic at Atlanta Airport carousel.)
My new “bag tag sabotage” theory is based on these facts:

1. A huge number of suitcases go missing in the airline system;

2. I take hundreds of flights (every year for the past 16), yet my bags have never disappeared;

3. My bags are harder than most to steal from;

Therefore, I’m proposing that much of the “lost luggage” has been ransacked, then deliberately made lost.

What do you think?

airport baggage luggage thieves TSA

TSA thieves

“New figures out today show 381 TSA officers have been fired for stealing from passengers and their luggage, and members of Congress think that just might be the tip of the iceberg,” said an ABC News report which aired September 27.

In a recent sting, ABC investigators walked away from an iPad at airport security and later tracked it to the home of Andy Ramirez, a TSA agent who denied stealing the iPad until the device was pinged and emitted an alarm sound from within his house. Although he was then forced to admit having possession of the stolen iPad, he blamed the theft on his wife. See his denial and ugly blame in the video:

Stealing “feels like being on drugs,” said Pythias Brown, a former TSA luggage screener at Newark airport, who was convicted for the theft of more than $800,000 worth of items over a four-year period. He described a “culture of indifference” at TSA, which “made stealing easy.”

On its blog, TSA calls 381 thieves “a few,” so perhaps they are not concerned.

See the rest of ABC’s report on TSA theft and a longer video. And keep your eyes on your belongings as you go through airport security.

airport luggage thieves TSA

Bag theft epidemic at Atlanta Airport carousel

A road warrior self-portrait taken in a hotel mirror

Atlanta Airport Police tell a business traveler that luggage theft from the carousel is currently an “epidemic” and “out of control.” The busines-traveler-victim plays detective and reports on the untenable shituation at Atlanta Airport baggage claim:

I was traveling on a two week business trip on a direct flight from San Antonio (SAT) to Atlanta (ATL). I travel domestically about 60% or 70% of the year, often through Atlanta as it is a major airport. This was, however, my first trip traveling to Atlanta as my destination city—on August 19, 2012.

Upon arrival, my commute to baggage claim was confusing. Like any airport, it required a lot of walking, but just when I assumed I had reached baggage claim, there was a subway that I was required to board. The subway was packed. It made at least 4 stops, each time pausing long enough for people to come and go. By the time I finally reached the baggage carousel, bags were just pouring out onto the carousel. None of the other passengers had reached it yet. We were the first! Judging by how the carousel wasn’t even completely filled up yet around the circular metal belt that rotated around, it looked like my business associates and I had arrived a few minutes late at the most. I distinctly recall all of my colleague’s bags just barely coming out for the first time as we stood there waiting. My bags never came out.

I didn’t realize it at the moment, but I was the victim of luggage theft with losses of about $3000. I waited in a long line where people wait in order to determine whether their bags were mixed up and stored in a back holding room for luggage, but the airline staff continued to reassure me that my bags were not back there. When she scanned my bag tag, it said that the last place it had reached was the baggage carousel.

In that moment, I was convinced that someone had come and stolen the luggage before the passengers arrived to the carousel! I looked around the baggage claim area, and the entire place looked suspicious and insecure! There were so many people standing far away looking to have absolutely no legitimate business there, just loitering off of the streets with their jeans sagged down to their knees.

I desperately tried to convince Delta, as well as the airport police, that my luggage was stolen! I knew it was, but nobody would listen. Everyone was as rude as could be, saying things like “you don’t know what you’re talking about. Some one probably mixed it up with theirs.” I knew that wasn’t the case. I had a unique Tumi duffel bag* that I’ve never seen anyone else traveling with. The police, Delta baggage staff, and the TSA were as apathetic as could be. I couldn’t even convince them to look into it, or consider the possibility that it was stolen!

What a nightmare! My bag had two weeks full of business attire, fitness attire, shoes (size 15 which are difficult to find), and prescription medication. I was at Walmart at 2:00AM trying to buy stuff just to wear the next day!

That’s when things got interesting! I began doing some research, convinced my boss to fly me home the following weekend where I had pictures of my 30″ Tumi duffel bag and receipts of all my stolen items. When I flew back to Atlanta to finish the second week of my trip, I persisted with the airport police, showing them pictures of what my bag looks like and documentation supporting the likelihood of my bag being stolen!

First what happened was that the airport police officer who was working at the front desk openly admitted to me that right now they have an “epidemic” (her words) of bag thefts in the baggage claim area of the Atlanta airport. She said, “Just between us, it’s out of control. We’re seeing guys like you come in here every day.”

I finally got through to a police investigator the next day who was on the phone with me as he discovered exactly what happened from looking at the surveillance video footage from the night in question. A black guy in a Kangol golf hat purposely worn low walked in. The detective said, “I can tell he knows what he’s doing”, in reference to how he wore his hat low and kept his head down the whole time. He said he knows that he is a thief because he was purposely standing far away from the carousel, not the way that people stand when they’re legitimately arriving to pick up their luggage. He said he showed up before ANY of the passengers reached the carousel, and then kept he eying my bag which was one of the first ones to come out. Keeping his distance, he waited until the bag rotated the whole way around the carousel until it was closest to his exit. Then he darted in, grabbing it, and taking off before ANYBODY even got there!

The detective openly admitted to me that they’re grabbing bags before people arrive. He said once they reach the building exit to the baggage claim, it’s a total loss and they don’t pursue it any further, no cameras, no investigation, nothing!

I believe that the Atlanta airport has a severe security hole. The thieves are aware of the timing issue where bags beat passengers to the carousels. They know just how easy it is to walk into the Atlanta airport with stolen luggage! They know that they have about 50 feet to walk towards the exit, then they’re scott-free because nobody will even look into it once they’re outside.

The airport is in a really horrible part of town. The baggage claim area is in a place where outsiders can walk in without authorization. After talking with the detective on the phone, I distinctly remember seeing other people walking around the parameter of the baggage claim building, looking around, but there was nothing I could do!

Nobody would help me. One week later, after I finally convinced the investigator to look into the problem, it was too late. I was accurate in my assumptions all along, but it was too late. That thief stole a lot of my clothes. The investigators have a video of the whole thing. They even printed out some pictures for me, but I could never pick them up because the investigator wasn’t present on my way to catch a flight home.

So that is my story. I just don’t know what to do right now because not enough people are aware of this bad security problem. I’ve already emailed the police chief of the airport precinct. I may eventually be reimbursed down the road, but the issue of them not pursuing bag thieves who shark luggage before passengers arrive is underexposed. I was hoping that perhaps by exposing it to more and more people, it will make them obligated to address the problem.

—Jacob

*About his luggage, Jacob added “It’s a wonderful bag–the 30” long black duffel bag by Tumi. The entire shell is of a soft, extra durable canvas material. What I love about it so much is that I could pack 14 pairs of pants and shirts with still room left for shopping, and the bag itself hardly weighs anything.

“Sadly, I’m torn on the decision to purchase my favorite Tumi bag again. The detective who eventually detected the luggage thief on the surveillance video sternly warned me that these thieves are targeting specific brands, and he said that they know exactly what they’re looking for. He said something like this, “On this day it was your Tumi. The day before it was a Louis Vuitton.” I said, “Yeah well he’d get a lot more for that Louis Vuitton than my used $700 bag.” The detective replied, “They don’t care about the bag. They care about what’s in the bag.” That was my big reality check. What would you do if you were me? Buy the bag I lost, or avoid it as a security precaution?”

The fact that the bag is black makes it a target.

airport Atlanta luggage police theft thieves

Pickpocket steals from jacket on cafe chair

How a pickpocket steals from a jacket hung on the back of a restaurant chair.

A strategist thief is one who creates his own opportunity, one who operates on a specific plan, one who steals with malice aforethought. The lowest strata of these are not much more than glorified opportunists. To me, though (and these are my definitions), an opportunist with a clever enough scheme gets a strategist rating.

Take Yacine, a north African illegal immigrant thief who works in Athens, Greece.

“I have a favorite technique to use in restaurants,” he told us, “but it only works in winter, when men hang their jackets on the backs of their chairs. I could show you, but I don’t have a jacket, and you don’t have a jacket. No one has a jacket in Athens in the summer.” He hunched his shoulders, raised his palms.

“We’ll go buy one,” Bob Arno said, and we had Yacine lead us to a men’s shop. There followed a hilarious scene in which a pickpocket selects a sport coat based on an analysis of its array of pockets. When a suitable jacket was purchased, Yacine chose a quiet café for our demonstration. Two of his colleagues joined us for lunch first, during which a cell phone rang.

Harik, 28, illegally visiting from Albania, pulled a phone out of his pocket and put it on the table. Then another, and another. He had half a dozen cell phones on the table before he found the ringing one. It had been a lucrative morning for Harik. He opened the back of the phone and pulled out its SIM card. The ringing stopped. Harik tore the tiny chip into shreds.

(An aside: want to buy a cell phone in Athens? Hundreds of men stand packed in a pedestrian shopping lane in the Plaka area, each displaying a phone or two. If you show interest in a man’s wares, he’ll pull from his pockets his other offerings, up to a dozen phones.)

“The new jacket is yours, but I need a jacket also, for this method,” Yacine said as he set the scene. “I’ll use a shirt for the demonstration.”

Pickpocket steals from jacket on cafe chair

He arranged Bob and me in bentwood chairs at a café table and ordered Greek coffee for us. He settled himself at the next table. Then, back to back with Bob, hand behind his back but hidden between the jackets, he snagged the wallet. I was facing him and saw nothing suspicious.

“You be the victim, Bob. Here’s the jacket. Put some euros in your wallet, empty is no good. Now put it in the new jacket. I don’t care which pocket! That is never something I decide. Now hang the jacket on the back of your chair. Perfect. Now, please. Have a seat. Drink your coffee.

“I will take the seat behind you so we are back to back. I have this shirt in my backpack, which I can use to simulate a jacket. I’ll hang it on the back of my chair. Now Bob, here is the secret: I will readjust the chairs so they are not exactly back to back. I’ll slide mine a little left or a little right. It doesn’t matter which way.

“Look now. I’m sitting right behind you. Our jackets are back to back on our chairs. I just slip my hand behind me and into your jacket. I don’t turn around. I can feel the pockets and quickly remove the wallet. See?

pickpocket steals from jacket on cafe chair; Cash is stolen from a wallet in a jacket pocket, without removing the wallet. — Cash is stolen from a wallet in a jacket pocket, without removing the wallet.

“You think that’s good? Thank you. Put the wallet back and I’ll show you something better. This is my best take. I will get the money only. I will not take the wallet. Just the money from it. It’s the same technique, but it takes a few seconds longer. Look now, I’ve got it!

“When I do this, the man never even knows. He thinks he spent the money somewhere. Very good, no?”

Yacine is an opportunist because he needs a fool for a mark, someone who’s left himself open. But he works with a strategy that gives him an advantage over the ordinary opportunist, so he has a wider field of potential victims. He’s more dangerous than his lesser fellows because he succeeds within the perceived shelter of upscale commercial establishments. He also has grander conceits. Yacine’s ultimate goal is America.

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

Athens cafe greece pickpocket restaurant thieves Travel Advisory

Smartphone theft and police response

smartphone theft and police: Phones on cafe table — Phones on cafe table

Since recently coming to understand the high numbers of smartphone theft in Barcelona, the manners in which they’re stolen, and the strategic refusal of Barcelona police to file a theft report without the stolen phone’s serial number, Bob Arno and I returned with a television crew eager to report on our thiefhunting exploits.

Bob and I have done this repeatedly for 15 years, always with more butterflies and apprehension than confidence. We haven’t let a tv crew down yet (but it’s bound to happen). So, with crew in tow, we resumed our research in Barcelona.

First, since many of the stolen smartphones are Apple iPhones, I visited the brand new Apple Store on Placa Catalunya, presuming that some victims would visit in the hope of retrieving their phones’ serial numbers. I was correct, store manager Mario told me, but “only a few per day. And no, Apple won’t help them obtain their serial numbers.” (You’d have to get to the computer with which you sync the phone, open iTunes, go to Preferences, choose the Devices tab, then hover your curser over the name of the device to see a popup that shows its serial number.)

smartphone theft and police: Apple store, Barcelona — Apple store, Barcelona

Next I returned to the police station to ask, are you serious? Really, if my phone is stolen, I can’t file a police report without its serial number? The officer on duty tried deflecting my question: “Do you have insurance?” he asked to each of my questions. I persisted until he confirmed: no serial number, no police report. Yes, you can go home and call in the serial number, but the police will not provide a copy of the police report by mail, fax, or email. What good is that?*

While at the police station, I couldn’t resist questioning the line of visitors waiting to report their thefts. iPhone stolen, iPhone stolen, iPhone stolen, etc., and two morose groups reporting that their accommodations had been burglarized. (One, a group of six Latvian students who lost multiple laptops, phones, and iPods, were devastated because as students, they couldn’t afford to replace them.) The victims kept coming and I couldn’t help but notice that the police station welcome mat was, literally, worn out. Pathetic.

One more question, Officer: this refusal to file a report without the phone’s serial number—is it just in Barcelona, or all of Spain? “All of Spain!” the officer assured me.

smartphone theft and police: Barcelona police station entrance, where the welcome mat is literally worn out. — Barcelona police station entrance, where the welcome mat is literally worn out.

Next, with the RTL tv crew rolling, we traipsed through the Barrio Gotico and Born areas of Barcelona after midnight, swinging a fake iPad. I was terrified for Bob, the carrier and potential victim, due to the reports of violent snatching we’ve recently been hearing. Yet… no takers! We rested and gathered strength on gorgeous tapas and beer, setting out again through the dark lanes and creepy alleys, my brave husband willing to get mugged for television (not for the first time!).

Perhaps we were too large a group (five). Maybe we were just in the right place at the wrong time. Maybe thievery is closed on Monday nights.

Next day, we sat for hours at Cava La Universal, where we’d seen and filmed the clever smartphone thieves. We had a brilliant fake iPhone laid out temptingly on the table—like fresh bait still wriggling.

Immediately the waiter approached and pushed the phone closer to us on the table. “Don’t have it like that,” he warned, “the thieves will get it. They’re very, very fast. They’re very, very good!” We pushed it halfway back and gave him a wink.

smartphone theft and police: Fake iPhone on our cafe table — Fake iPhone on our cafe table

The tv producer and I chatted and people-watched over coffee while I scrutinized humanity. I saw a few “suspects,” pointing them out to the producer. “Look at those two.” I pointed to “white-shoulders” and a pal as they walked away on La Rambla. They hadn’t come close to us. “Thieves, for sure,” I boldly pronounced. The tv producer believed me without evidence. Or maybe she didn’t.

An hour later Bob came to meet us at the cafe with the other producer and the cameraman. Guess who they had with them? “White shoulders” and his pal. And guess who they were? White-shoulders’ pal was the very phone-thief gang-leader I filmed one month ago! (Tattooed “Born to kill.”) This time, his partner, white-shoulders, was only 13 years old. I hadn’t recognized Born-to-kill as he passed by an hour before. I had only pegged him as a probably thief based on his and his partner’s body language and behavior.

smartphone theft and police: Phone thieves with Bob Arno — Phone thieves with Bob Arno

Born-to-kill was in good spirits and willing to talk. Even on camera! He said he hadn’t tried to steal my iPhone because it looked fake. Liar! It looks damn real—in fact its case is real, but has a printed display. And anyway, he’d never came close enough to my table to see the iPhone. He and the child had passed at a distance. Born-to-kill’s name is Florin.

PICKPOCKETS, CON ARTISTS, GANGSTERS, THIEVES, AND TRAVEL

The Thieves of Naples

Why Pickpocketing Continues

How Laws Tie Hands, And Cut Them Off

Portrait of a hanger thief

Child phone thieves answer questions

Bob Arno pickpocketed in Bali—video

Bag tag sabotage

TSA thieves

Bag theft epidemic at Atlanta Airport carousel

Pickpocket steals from jacket on cafe chair

Pickpocket steals from jacket on cafe chair

Smartphone theft and police response

Buy our book of thieves!