Participants:
| Scene Title | Tourists |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Laura takes Claire out for a "field test" of sorts. Claire is out of her element, but finds she sort of enjoys Laura's brand of artistry. |
| Date | March 20, 2009 |
Before the bomb, the Upper East Side offered some of the most expensive real estate in the United States, which the upper-range of residences reaching upwards of 70 million dollars. In the wake of the bomb, the economic collapse of New York drove property values down through the ground. This was only compounded by the southwestern portion of the neighborhood being in direct proximity to the blast area, causing rampant fires that destroyed dozens of blocks of residential and business areas.
The Upper East Side has the privilege of being on the border of ground zero, with a barricade of one story tall concrete blocks forming a barricade around the ruins of Midtown. Entrances into these regions are protected by Homeland Security checkpoints reinforced by national guard. It is this jagged blight visible on the horizon of the neighborhood that has been a grievous scar on an otherwise well to do region of New York.
Despite itself, perhaps, the Upper East Side has done as good for itself as can be imagined in the wake of the disaster. Much of the western portion of the neighborhood has dropped so significantly in property values that it has become residential shelters for refugees capable of affording a living. The northern-most regions of the neighborhood though are beginning to thrive again in the wake of economic stimulus thrown into the area following modest reconstruction efforts. Private and public donations to rebuild the region has resulted in a recovery to some of its former grace, but the damage done by the waves of riots and arson following the bomb may never truly be recovered from.
Upper East Side isn't quite the rich community it used to be, but it's still a place Laura finds herself often — for purposes of one profession or another. Today, however, is more of an extracurricular field trip. Just past noon, the sky is not quite overcast, the air chilly but not quite cold; Laura has abandoned the winter-weight coat in favor of a lightweight black jacket. The light blue shirt beneath it is unremarkable, as are her faded blue jeans; she carries a camera case slung over one shoulder and the device itself at ready in her right hand. "Neighborhoods like this," she informs her companion, as they walk along the street, "tend to attract people who take a few simple measures and think that makes them secure. They also believe having neighbors to watch out for them will protect them from getting robbed, but all it really does is make people lazy."
Claire nods her head slowly as she listens to the wisdom Laura imparts. "Makes sense," she says. Sounds like the suburbia she grew up in. If someone wants to break into your house, they'll do it. And she and Ms Morgan want to break in. She reaches to pull up the hood of her faded red track jacket but thinks better of it. Hoods have a handy way of shielding identity, but they also have a way of making people remember that someone who wanted to hide their identity was lurking about after something happens. "So, who're we looking at and what are we looking to take?"
"You tell me," Laura replies, casting a mischievous grin at the girl beside her. Think of this… as your practical. "Good," she remarks, when Claire aborts the move to lift her hood. "It's all about blending in right now. We're tourists, even," the imp adds, lifting the camera in her hand. "In fact, why don't you stand about there—" She points at a driveway not far off. " —and I'll get a picture of you in front of that house. It's a nice one, don't you think?"
Claire eyes the house critically. "Nice, yeah." She moves toward the driveway. "The ADT sticker's peeling and faded. Either they've been using the service for years, or they've been using the sticker in place of the service for years." She brushes the hair from her face, posing for the photograph with only a Mona Lisa smile. "I don't think it's that nice."
"Good catch," Laura congratulates, as she snaps the photo and walks over to rejoin Claire. "The bushes under the windows are barberry, though. If they're smart enough to grow things with thorns, they've probably got an actual alarm system installed. I wouldn't go near it without a thorough study first." She nods down the street. "Two doors down. Tell me about that one."
Well, first of all, the property's half-masked by shrubbery.
Two doors down. Casually, the dark-haired girl starts walking in that direction. "I'd say they're hoping they're masking themselves from would-be robbers, but I see opportunity. Like you said, it's lazy. They only make a robbery easier." Claire narrows her eyes faintly, trying to decide if she agrees with her own assessment, "Even someone passing by probably wouldn't get a good look at what's happening." She glances over her shoulder to Laura with a glance that asks, 'Am I close?'
The short white-blonde hair bobs with Laura's head. "They like their privacy. Probably do that even while thinking their neighbors will see anything weird. Actually, especially in cities like this, you can carry out a robbery in broad daylight with " She hefts that camera again. " a really simple veneer. Coveralls and a utility van with someone's logo, for example. Professional dress and a clipboard. Just look like you belong." As they come up to the driveway of the house in question — it's gated — Laura pauses and leans on the fence. "So, what else about them, now that we can see the house?"
Claire stops in front of the gate and takes hold of it, using it to stablize herself as she does some routine stretches. Her eyes roam the face of the house. "Curtains are fluttering in the upstairs window. Doesn't look like it's latched properly. Could be an in if all else fails. But it's more tricky to pull off. At night, a ladder is conspicuous. During the day, you can get by with a window installation truck so long as no one watches you climb in to the window." She looks a bit closer at the lower levels of the house. "There's a pet door. I'm willing to bet you if there's an alarm, it's left off more often than not. It'd be easier to trigger it a few times to encourage the owners to turn it off, too. Make them suspect a malfunction."
"If you're decent at climbing," Laura points out, "you could get up over the bay windows and in that window without a ladder. But that's definitely a second-to-last resort." Last resort, for them, being entering in a manner that leaves unmistakable evidence. The older woman reaches down, unlatches the gate. Yes. It's a manual latch. "Want to give it a shot?" Laura asks, smiling at Claire.
The action draws a look of surprise from the younger woman. "Right now? You want me to break into the house right now? What if they're home? I mean, they have a garage. How can you tell?"
"Gate's latched, curtains are drawn, and if you look real closely you'll see the porch light is on," Laura promptly supplies. That impish grin broadens as she steps in through the gate. "Come on. It'll be fun." …And aren't those the three most dangerous words in the English language.
Claire's far too freshly removed from high school to not know that those three words are synonymous with 'doom.' But she's also fresh from high school enough to think that when someone says 'it'll be fun,' it'll probably be fun. "Like someone went off to work this morning when they still needed the light," she remarks absently, pushing past the gate and moving toward the house. She moves her eyes to the yard. The size of refuse found will give a good indication of what's using that pet door. She'd really rather not find herself face to face with a proper guard dog. Though the yard waste seems to indicate something far smaller. Hopefully more docile. "Okay, what do we do if there's a dog in there that wants to eat our faces? I mean, a bite isn't going to bother me, but I'd rather not leave any blood behind."
To Laura, this is fun. "If they had a guard dog worth the word," she replies as they walk up the driveway, "it would be at the window right about… now." No dog appears. "Actually, most dogs are a lot more accepting of strangers than people think, unless they're actually trained. I've hardly ever had one do more than sniff really hard. But it's a good thing to watch out for." The porch creaks underfoot, as wooden things tend to do. Laura eyes the lock on the front door. "Deadbolt. Should be fairly simple. I don't see an alarm sticker…" She studies the nearest window closely, but fails to specify any conclusions that may have been drawn from it.
"We never put the sticker in our window. Because people who don't have security systems put the stickers in their windows." The alarm may go off, but someone's still smashed your window or kicked your door in, the Bennets reasoned. All the same, Claire reaches into her pocket and pulls out a ring of keys. A few of the keys, however, aren't keys at all. But work just as well. She slips one set of picks into the lock after turning her body just-so to give the appearance of attempting to slide a key into a lock and jimmy the stubborn thing. She's silent, holding her breath lest she be unable to feel or hear the telltale click! of success.
Laura has reconnected.
Laura has partially disconnected.
"Sounds like good logic, but the alarm will deter your average burglar either way — and having the sticker might save you some repair costs." That's Laura's two cents, anyway. She waits patiently as Claire works at the lock, keeping an unobtrusive eye on the street. Not that… anyone's really noticed them, anyway.
It takes a little effort — the real thing is always a little more nervewracking than all the practice in the world — but, finally, Claire manages to pick the lock. She turns the handle and experimentally pushes the door open about an inch, waiting for an alarm to trip or a dog to come running. She's greeted by a black Pomeranian, whimpering for attention. "Aww," she murmurs, "He looks like that time I let Mister Muggles dig tunnels in the back yard." She pauses and glances back at Laura with a look of something between surprise and frustration, "I never really thought I'd miss that dog."
The dog comes running - and it's a veritable fluffball. Laura looks down at it, then chuckles at Claire. "Yeah, sometimes I get hit with the strangest nostalgia. Not often, though!" She steps into the house with Claire, careful not to let the dog out and closing the door behind them. "And now we're in." Not that she needs to say that, but it's an excuse for Laura to grin at her student. "You going to look around, or call that a victory and head home?" This was practice, after all.
"Seems kind of a shame to come all this way and not take a look, right?" Claire scoops down to pick up the dog, burying her fingers in its soot-coloured fur with absent affection. "Who knows? Maybe there's hidden doors or something. All those bushes. Gotta be something they don't want people to see, right?" She grins at Laura, obviously not entirely serious. "Should we check the closets for skeletons?"
Behind Claire, the imp giggles. "I don't think we want skeletons. Unless they're hiding a bunch of gold coins or something." Blue eyes flick over the interior of the house. "Doesn't look like it'll have hidden rooms, either." It's not that old a building. Couple decades. "But people do like to hide stuff," Laura concludes. "Your average burglar would get in the door and immediately start tossing things. Could clear out the house in four minutes. Maybe ten if there's a lot."
"I don't want to be that person. I want to be the person that makes you wonder where you misplaced something." Claire wanders through the house slowly. "Place like this, what do you take?" She finds the staircase and glances upward, waiting for direction before taking liberty.
"Here or anywhere else, it depends on the effect you want." Laura wanders through the house with Claire, careful not to actually touch anything, for all that she gets pretty close to some of the pictures and trinkets on display. "Mostly, if you're breaking into somewhere, you either already know what you want — or you want everything. So this is a different case." She nods towards the stairs, giving permission for Claire to go on up. "Do you want a memento, something you can fence, or just to swipe a thing they won't have anymore? Do you want to leave a message, give them grief, or leave them puzzled but unsuspecting?"
Claire hmms thoughtfully as she ascends the stairs, dog tucked against her body almost lovingly. "The first one, and the last one. This time, at least." She turns her head back to glance at Laura again, not necessarily hesitating or waiting for cues, but the seasoned break-in-artist will surely note things she wouldn't. Always good to watch the veterans for information.
The pale-haired imp grins at that. "Good choice!" Upstairs, she pokes her head into each of the rooms in turn, blue eyes flicking over the contents. This is valuable; that, those, and the other are not. It's an automatic, unconscious tally. "Unless you find something that catches your eye, what I'd probably do is figure out where they keep the jewelry," Laura remarks. "Stuff that's not everyday — so it won't be missed until too late. But not something expensive, or distinctive." She looks over at Claire and grins. "So! Where would that be?"
"Bedroom or bathroom?" The dark haired girl peeks into each of the rooms. She at first heads into what appears to be the bedroom of a teenage girl. Posters of bands and actors and magazine clippings plaster the walls. A peek behind the door reveals a cheerleading uniform hung up on a hook. It causes the young woman to hesitate before turning back toward the master bedroom. This isn't a 'job.' No stealing from a high school girl. A quick sweep of the master bedroom reveals a jewelry box atop a dresser. The latch pops, no lock, and Claire shifts the fluffy black bundle in her arms to lift the lid with gloved hands. "I don't know how to tell the cheap stuff from the real stuff. I could use your input, I think."
Laura lets Claire poke around without comment; she's not 'grading' the girl on what she does, really, and could care less about why. So she waits, walking back over to the top of the stairs and looking down into the foyer. Only to return her attention to the younger thief at her question. "Hm? Oh, sure!" The imp pads over, looking down into the box. Her fingers dance over the items in it, pointing at several, sifting through some of the loose ones. "I think… those are worth a pretty penny, these are decently middle-range. That one, also." One bracelet is picked up so it can be examined separately. "Looks older. Might've been inherited; not bad for fencing, if you have someone who knows the market, but bad to take yourself."
Claire nods. "I figured I wouldn't be taking anything that looked older than I am. What about these, though?" She lifts up a pair of turquoise earrings, dangling in a manner that looks more heavy than delicate. She glances toward the closet, "I don't see anything that really matches this sort of piece. My guess is they were a gift or maybe a souvenier from something. Do you think they'd be missed?" They'd match a certain necklace in her wardrobe.
"Depends which of those is closer to right," Laura replies. "Gifts, maybe not — but it could have sentimental value. If it's a souvenir, it probably does have sentimental value." The woman then shrugs her shoulders, grinning broadly at Claire. "Doesn't mean they'd notice its absence anytime soon, though. Choice is entirely up to you!"
The earrings are pocketed without a second thought. She already broke into a house, what's a pair of earrings? "All right, let's blow this pop stand, huh?" Claire heads for the stairs, stroking her fingers through the Pomeranian's fur. He really is cute. If this were a job, and this were a bad guy's house, they'd be minus one dog.
Laura grins again, then heads down the stairs. "You taking the dog, too?" she calls back as she does so, tone teasing. "Fair warning, it'll probably start yapping its head off once we get down the driveway and then everyone will know." She herself heads straight for the front door and opens it a crack, waiting for Claire to catch up.
"Naw. That'd be cruel. This dog is obviously well loved." Claire's tone is light enough, she knows Laura's teasing. But she also offers reasoning, because that's what this is all about. Offering reasoning for actions. Once Claire reaches the bottom of the stairs, she sets the dog down, but holds onto it with one hand. "Our little secret, okay?" She puts one finger to her lips before patting the pooch on the head and releasing him to go skitter across the floor and curl up on the couch with a toy. The girl smiles almost fondly before turning back to Laura and heading for the door. "Clear?"
"Clear," Laura affirms, slipping through the door and waiting for Claire to do the same before she closes it. Then, camera in hand, she walks nonchalantly right back down the driveway. "So you used to have a dog?" Conversation more for the sake of conversation; Laura doesn't give the expectation of an answer or even for Claire to comment on herself at all. "I haven't had a pet since… well, it's been a long time. Maybe when I was… six or seven, I want to say? We had a cat around then." Two friends talking as they step out onto the sidewalk and head down the street. Nothing noteworthy here.
Laura grins again, then heads down the stairs. "You taking the dog, too?" she calls back as she does so, tone teasing. "Fair warning, it'll probably start yapping its head off once we get down the driveway and then everyone will know." She herself heads straight for the front door and opens it a crack, waiting for Claire to catch up.
"Naw. That'd be cruel. This dog is obviously well loved." Claire's tone is light enough, she knows Laura's teasing. But she also offers reasoning, because that's what this is all about. Offering reasoning for actions. Once Claire reaches the bottom of the stairs, she sets the dog down, but holds onto it with one hand. "Our little secret, okay?" She puts one finger to her lips before patting the pooch on the head and releasing him to go skitter across the floor and curl up on the couch with a toy. The girl smiles almost fondly before turning back to Laura and heading for the door. "Clear?"
"Clear," Laura affirms, slipping through the door and waiting for Claire to do the same before she closes it. Then, camera in hand, she walks nonchalantly right back down the driveway. "So you used to have a dog?" Conversation more for the sake of conversation; Laura doesn't give the expectation of an answer or even for Claire to comment on herself at all. "I haven't had a pet since… well, it's been a long time. Maybe when I was… six or seven, I want to say? We had a cat around then." Two friends talking as they step out onto the sidewalk and head down the street. Nothing noteworthy here.
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