Hubby and I were robbed Saturday night. I suppose the correct term is ‘burglarized’ because robbery implies human contact, and we weren’t home in our Mexican rental property when it happened, thank God.
When we returned home after dinner and a play, we entered the house with no inkling anything was wrong. The little alcove holding our computers is around the corner from the entry. Hubby reached there first and exclaimed, “My computer is gone!”
What? I didn’t realize what he had said at first. His computer? The front door was locked. What about my computer? Sure enough, both computers were gone. My tablet! I rushed into the bedroom. Yep, they found my tablet, my most prized possession, on the nightstand. Next I checked my writing folder where I had stashed 5,000 pesos (around $450)just prior to going out. My folder was intact, but the money was gone. How in the world had they thought to look in there?
Then we discovered Hubby’s wallet was gone, with all our US and Canadian money, perhaps around $500. I ran screeching across our four-house complex to the closest neighbour. I was a crazy person, pounding the concrete wall, yelling, searching for a nonexistent doorbell. Before long, all the neighbours were out. One called the police, who arrived within minutes, and I soon found myself surrounded by three Mexican police carrying very real machine guns. Yikes!
Ten of us tromped through the house. All the cupboard doors and drawers in every room were wide open. They had rooted through our suitcases. At first, we thought our passports and immigration cards were gone, but they had been tossed to the floor. The weirdest thing was that there was no sign of entry.. All the doors were still locked. Had it been an inside job? Someone with a key? Later, we discovered the bedroom patio door ajar just a quarter of an inch, yet still locked. We figured that was the point of entry. We found what we thought were fingerprints on the glass, to be told a couple of days later by a detective that it was a forehead and nose print.
The police were professional and courteous. Being late Saturday night, we were told to go to the police station Monday morning to file a formal report, which we did. Our rental manager took us there, and imagine my shock when I was kicked out of the interrogation room and made to wait in the waiting room for two hours.
(To be continued)