Gaspard de la nuit

Expectations of having an average evening yesterday were shattered by the sound of the 'inside' doorbell at 7.15pm. Assuming it to be my parents having returned home from Sydney, I dashed to the door only to find a 6 foot 3, middle-aged man standing outside. Thinking that it was a neighbour in need, I opened the door without suspicion, only to be told that he was 'Paul', a 'gutter-cleaner', and having seen that our gutters were clogged was so overwhelmed by a sense of urgency that he overleaped the fence to ring the doorbell. Still not suspicious, I inquired about his business card, car/van and the nature of his work, none of which he answered satisfactorily.

He finally left, but then proceeded to ring another doorbell several houses down, then disappeared around the corner.

I eventually called the police, who sent around a patrol shortly to hunt him down, but no luck. It turns out that there has been a spate of burglaries in the area, and that I should have called 000 much sooner, said the frustrated senior constable. So if you live in my area, lock your doors, and beware.

As for you, 'Paul', cave canem! Grrr.