Heart race- muscle pain- elevator- my room. It looks just as it was left. An hour ago my roommate called me saying that somebody broke into our apartment.
I think pretty much everyone faced robbery or burglary. I got my phone and wallet stolen right from my pocket in a crowded subway in Moscow, but no one had actually broken into MY house and taken MY possessions (and memories) away.
9:30 pm my roommate called 911.
10:30 pm no one came
11:30 pm still no one came.
We called them every hour to find out how they were doing and finally, decided to ask them to get us donuts with chocolate as well.
12:30 am still no door bell
My roommate says Ukrainian cops are cooler than that- it takes them only 1-2 hours to get to the crime scene
1:30 am loud banging on the door.
Two cops have arrived. They are both young (looks like younger than me) and they speak some language from the Caribbean. They are probably idols for their villagers: they are American cops, just like in the movies. And they have guns too. Yeah.
It took them and us an hour to fill all the required papers.
2:30 am the main guy with mustache arrives.He tells me they could have looked for my missing money if I knew the unique number on each of the bills.
He brings 3 more people with him. They just walk around stumping the dust and dirt they brought into our apartment.
3:00 am everybody finally leaves.
4:00 am I get a phone call from the one of the cops. The young ones did not fill out the papers correctly, so they have to come back.
4:30 am they come back, wake my roommate up and make us fill out the same papers again.
4:50 am they leave.
8:30 am 2 women come.
They are here to take fingerprints, but they tell me that since everybody touched everything last night, they can do nothing. So off they go.
I did not quite get why they came if they knew there was another layer(s) of fingerprints on top of the one they needed. Even after I asked them to take fingerprints from the drawer where the criminal took the knife to open the doors, they refused, because it was made of wood.
11:30 am Ta-Da!! comes the detective. Tall, in a suit with a touch of gray in his hair. His speech is content, his voice is velvet, he wont waste a single gesture. THIS is the man from the movies, and not the cops with guns.
“We will be looking in pawn shops. They have to have some type of id to get cash for gold.”
And if the owner just takes the gold without ID, they can get closed down, because police sends a lot of undercover agents there.
Yeah, good luck with that.
The next day I found the knife that the unwanted guest used as a door opening tool and called up the detective. He sent someone to take the fingerprints.
Two Hispanic women, one with butterfly on her back above her hips, another with nails so long, they gave her hard time dialing her supervisors number to tell him how they did not find taking the fingerprints useful in this case simply because I assumed that the knife was used here. I know it was, because it was misplaced and there was nothing else big enough to open both doors.They finally took a DNA test, because the detective is new and he told them to do so.
As a conclusion…
Being robbed is a hard work…
Sleepless nights and pointless visits of numerous people with guns.
