Tuesday, over a week after the theft (see previous posts, from part 1 onwards), I had gone through backups of letters and mails I had sent to friends over the past years. I seemed not to have mentioned an an earlier theft of a camera from the same person and room anywhere.
Neither had I found anything about it, while skimming my diaries and mails. But one of my diaries did contain a story about an earlier break-in and theft. It had occurred a while ago. Apparently, witnesses had reported a man had thrown a brick through a ground floor window, grabbed the computer or laptop, climbed on a bike and sped off.
I presumed my memory had tricked me. I was no longer sure there had been an earlier camera theft from the same person, quite similar as the theft of the laptop now – and possibly also including a camera.
I had also noticed, I actually made a mistake regarding how the door to the victim’s room opened.
It is in a kind of separate hall on that landing and does open into the room. But when opened, it may or may not block the view towards her dining room table. Regardless, the only way to have a clear view into her room, was to stand right in front of that door.
Even if an earlier camera theft had occurred, the victim would have to be willing to confirm it. After all, such a theft from the same person, the same room, under similar circumstances – but with another person or persons being accused – was too much of a coincidence.
By then, I was no longer sleeping nor eating well. I was unable to concentrate or focus. I made mistakes with events I was offering and scheduling. Clients who contacted me, to tell me they were going to take along non-paying friends to outings even though the guest lists had closed weeks ago, received a confrontational “No”, instead of diplomatic customer relation enhancing turn-downs. I even forgot scheduled events I was going to host for friends. Since the police thug’s visit, I could not focus nor function. (See part 5)
I could not concentrate on courses I was taking and supposed to complete well before September. Friends inviting me to come and stay with them for a while, were turned down. Under the circumstances, accepting invitations for a free or semi-free stay abroad, did not feel right.
If police was convinced it was okay to hassle, intimidate, accuse an innocent witness like me, because they were after an easy solution, would surely misinterpret a short holiday abroad.
There might be people in this country, still believing in “innocent till proven guilty” – it seemed it was no longer how the system and its manikins worked.
I wished I had followed my ordinary Monday morning routine.
I wished I had realised me moving out of the premises, instead of tolerating bad living-conditions because I needed cheap lodgings.
Though I had slowly managed to start putting my life back on the rails and made a start sorting out my own and other’s problems – for the umpteenth time – it looked like my life was going to be shattered yet again.
I did not know if I would have the strength to cope with everything.