system, or that it's set," I said. "But if I was breaking into a house it would be enough to make me take a quick look around. I might do that even if I didn't see tape on the windows. Especially if I spent a little time checking the place out first, in which case I might have known about the alarm system before I got anywhere near the front door."
Lia said, "But they'd need more than that, wouldn't they? There's a four-digit number you have to enter in order to deactivate the alarm."
"There are other ways," I said, "if you happen to know them. You can rewire the system and bypass the alarm. But that would show up later on. What was the number, do you happen to know?"
"Ten-seventeen," she said. "One-oh-one-seven. It was their wedding anniversary, they got married on the seventeenth of October. I forget the year."
"Well, you wouldn't need to know the year to deactivate the alarm."
"No," she said, and her eyes widened. "You don't think..."
"That you were the set-up person? Why, were you?"
"Of course not!"
"Good, we can cross you off the list. And you can relax, because you were never on it. How'd you happen to know the number?"
"Aunt Susan told me."
"So you would feel like a real member of the family?"
Her eyes welled up, making her look that much more waiflike. "We went shopping," she said, "and she had her arms full of packages when we came home. She had me get the key from her purse and unlock the door, and then she told me to key in the number so we wouldn't have sirens going off."
"You knew where the keypad was."
"Of course. I'd seen them use it to activate the system, and to deactivate it."
"And she told you the number?"
"I couldn't just press buttons at random, could I? She told me the number, and later on she explained the significance, that it was their anniversary."
"And that helped you remember it."
"Actually, it was the other way around. I'd never known the date of their anniversary, but the number stuck in my mind, and that's how come I know when their anniversary was."
"She didn't mind letting you know the number."
"Well, I don't think she thought I was likely to rob the place."
"No, of course not. But they had that alarm system for how long, twenty years? Something like that? And the odds are they picked that number early on, and never changed it. As a matter of fact, it's probably not the only thing they used it for. I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out to be the PIN number for their bank accounts and credit cards. People aren't supposed to do it that way, it's a bad idea from a security standpoint, but life's a lot easier when you've only got one number to remember."
"I use... well, the same number for everything."
"And it's probably either your birthday or the last four digits of your Social Security number."
It was one or the other, from her reaction, but at least she didn't tell me which one. "It's my AOL password, too. I guess I'd better change it."
"As far as your aunt and uncle's alarm system was concerned," I said, "anybody could have let that slip. A burglar is as good as his research, and the smart ones learn to use people who don't even know they're being used. Repairmen, delivery boys. Maybe they had someone doing work in their house, building bookshelves or rewiring the top floor, and he needed to be able to get in and out in their absence. They knew they could trust him."
"And he never told anybody," T J said, picking it up smoothly. "Only he mentioned to his wife that these people were so sentimental they used their wedding anniversary to get in and out of their house. And she told her son, so he'd know that it wouldn't be a good idea to forget his parents' wedding anniversary, and then the kid got into drugs and wound up on Rikers Island, and somebody brought up the subject of burglar alarms, and he knew these people who used their wedding anniversary as a password. If the right person heard it, all he'd need to do was find out when those people got married, and how
Lia said, "But they'd need more than that, wouldn't they? There's a four-digit number you have to enter in order to deactivate the alarm."
"There are other ways," I said, "if you happen to know them. You can rewire the system and bypass the alarm. But that would show up later on. What was the number, do you happen to know?"
"Ten-seventeen," she said. "One-oh-one-seven. It was their wedding anniversary, they got married on the seventeenth of October. I forget the year."
"Well, you wouldn't need to know the year to deactivate the alarm."
"No," she said, and her eyes widened. "You don't think..."
"That you were the set-up person? Why, were you?"
"Of course not!"
"Good, we can cross you off the list. And you can relax, because you were never on it. How'd you happen to know the number?"
"Aunt Susan told me."
"So you would feel like a real member of the family?"
Her eyes welled up, making her look that much more waiflike. "We went shopping," she said, "and she had her arms full of packages when we came home. She had me get the key from her purse and unlock the door, and then she told me to key in the number so we wouldn't have sirens going off."
"You knew where the keypad was."
"Of course. I'd seen them use it to activate the system, and to deactivate it."
"And she told you the number?"
"I couldn't just press buttons at random, could I? She told me the number, and later on she explained the significance, that it was their anniversary."
"And that helped you remember it."
"Actually, it was the other way around. I'd never known the date of their anniversary, but the number stuck in my mind, and that's how come I know when their anniversary was."
"She didn't mind letting you know the number."
"Well, I don't think she thought I was likely to rob the place."
"No, of course not. But they had that alarm system for how long, twenty years? Something like that? And the odds are they picked that number early on, and never changed it. As a matter of fact, it's probably not the only thing they used it for. I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out to be the PIN number for their bank accounts and credit cards. People aren't supposed to do it that way, it's a bad idea from a security standpoint, but life's a lot easier when you've only got one number to remember."
"I use... well, the same number for everything."
"And it's probably either your birthday or the last four digits of your Social Security number."
It was one or the other, from her reaction, but at least she didn't tell me which one. "It's my AOL password, too. I guess I'd better change it."
"As far as your aunt and uncle's alarm system was concerned," I said, "anybody could have let that slip. A burglar is as good as his research, and the smart ones learn to use people who don't even know they're being used. Repairmen, delivery boys. Maybe they had someone doing work in their house, building bookshelves or rewiring the top floor, and he needed to be able to get in and out in their absence. They knew they could trust him."
"And he never told anybody," T J said, picking it up smoothly. "Only he mentioned to his wife that these people were so sentimental they used their wedding anniversary to get in and out of their house. And she told her son, so he'd know that it wouldn't be a good idea to forget his parents' wedding anniversary, and then the kid got into drugs and wound up on Rikers Island, and somebody brought up the subject of burglar alarms, and he knew these people who used their wedding anniversary as a password. If the right person heard it, all he'd need to do was find out when those people got married, and how
Similar Books
The Corpse Exhibition
Hassan Blasim
Heavy Planet
Hal Clement
For His Protection
Amber A Bardan
Arrow's Fall
Mercedes Lackey
Can and Can'tankerous
Harlan Ellison (R)
Devil's Keep
Phillip Finch
Here Comes the Bribe
Mary Daheim
The Juliet
Laura Ellen Scott
In Too Deep
D C Grant
Throw Like A Girl
Jean Thompson