Hotel Thieves

 HOTEL THIEVES

The owner of the hotel is a sufferer. "Night guards." - Safety locks and chain bolts. "The modus operandi of the professional hotel thief." "An ingenious set of tools." - Preparations and precautions. "The thief in action." - Bar keys, "widdies," clamps, and cut cables. - Enter the sleeping guest's apartment. - A unique device to "adjust" the locks of an unoccupied room. - Precautions that every hotel guest should take. — The stylish street vendor.

There is no branch of dishonesty that is more widespread or more popular than hotel robbery today. Skilled thieves choose their targets cunningly, from luxury hotels in big cities to manicured inns and taverns in rural towns, and sadly, their machinations rarely fail. Wherever travelers are carrying money, there also appears the professional thief willing to relieve them of their most valuable possessions. Whenever an unusual upheaval brings crowds together, thieves seize the opportunity to profit. Fairs, horse races, conventions, and exhibitions are events that usually attract large numbers of visitors to the city or the host town, completely filling the hotels. Under these conditions, well-off visitors are easily preyed upon by a nocturnal thief who infiltrates their rooms while they sleep. The thief searches their pockets and even disturbs their beds as they rest soundly. However, these criminals do not limit their activity to periods of bustle and overcrowding in hotels, but also on ordinary days, when ordinary travelers occupy the establishments, they continue their misdeeds with total impunity and with a degree of success that is truly alarming. When guests in large city hotels wake up to find their money and valuables missing, despite feeling secure in their rooms, the hotel owners are often bound to offer compensation.

Hotel proprietors nationwide have been contending with a multitude of robberies at their property lately. Hundreds of these cases occur without ever being made public or put in the hands of the police or detectives for investigation, as owners invariably prefer to resolve the matter directly with their guests and reimburse them for losses rather than publicize a theft that could damage their reputation and drive away their clientele. The owners of these places have done everything in their power to stop night thieves, but their efforts have only succeeded in reducing the problem, not eradicating it. Burglars still access rooms despite extensive security, robbing unconscious guests. The maintenance of a body of awake and alert guards outside the cameras has also placed safeguards inside the rooms. The double lock on each door can only be operated from within the room. An external lock grants access, while an internal lock ensures privacy once inside. The devices feature two distinct locking systems. One allows for locking from either side, while the other can only be secured internally. Chain bolts, another ingenious artifice, have also been placed on many of the doors, and yet, with all these provisions against the burglar's entrance, the occupants of these rooms wake up in the morning to find that they have been stolen from during the night, and their doors show no evidence to the inexperienced observer of having been tampered with in any particular. To those unacquainted with the ingenuity of the professional hotel thief, this discovery is startling and inexplicable, but to those who have studied the modes and operations of this class of criminals, the manner in which an entrance has been gained and the means used to accomplish their object, the solution is as plain as the sun at noonday.

It is my purpose to fully explain the modus operandi of these expert robbers and to so fully inform the traveling public of these matters that, if proper precautions are taken and rigid scrutiny is made of their doors and locks before they retire, an entrance will be prevented and a successful robbery will be impossible.

First, we will examine a top hotel burglar’s tool, then their uses and operation. It is important to keep in mind that these criminals are exceptionally clever and smart. They are fully attentive to all circumstances, whether favorable in nature or otherwise. They have expert tool handling skills, using clamps and drill bits with the refined precision of a skilled craftsman. They are seldom caught off guard and possess significantly greater awareness of the guards’ locations than the guards do of theirs. No one would suspect the well-dressed, polite person who checks in quietly and speaks knowledgeably about travel and education. In the reading room and at the dining table, he is the dignified but affable business gentleman, and his demeanor is always discreet and courteous. He avoids bold colors and the latest trends, opting instead for garments that reflect excellent taste and subtle elegance, marking him as a gentleman with sophisticated preferences.

Their tools are generally of the best quality of tempered steel, consisting of a "bar wrench"; a set of six points of various sizes and arranged for stem or drum locks; a small drill; a file; a "sectional stem," or what is called the "widdy"; several pieces of wire; and a pair of pliers. Necessary, but few are utilized; functions are explained sequentially. These easily portable tools can fit in a thief's bag. Another important item worth mentioning, although not technically considered a tool, is a piece of white putty or pigment.

Armed with these instruments and qualified by a long system of training, the hotel thief is now fully prepared to set out on his travels. Their method works like this: Hotel robbers always work in pairs, but they do not show any connection in public and seem as remote and silent as complete strangers to viewers. However, they manage to secure their rooms on the same floor and, if possible, without attracting undue attention, close to each other. Once established in their apartments, the work of active operation at once begins. Guests closely observe each other's habits on their floor, quickly figuring out which rooms are empty. These steps are conducted constantly during daylight hours. After knowing how many rooms are unoccupied, they carefully check the locks on their own doors, trusting that all other doors on the floor will have similar security. Having acquired this knowledge, they are ready to work. One of the men prepares to see that the coast is clear, while the other quickly enters one of the empty rooms. He takes his tools inside with him. If only one lock needs attention, the job is finished in no time. The bar key, equipped with the correct drill bit, easily opens the door from the outside, making any other steps for that room unnecessary.

A hole is drilled through the door from the inside immediately over the handle or knob for the introduction of the “sectional stem." Ascertaining that the corridor is empty by a series of signals with his partner, who is on the watch, the thief comes cautiously out and covers up the hole on the outside in the same manner.  As long as there are no interruptions, all empty rooms on this floor remain ready and prepared for guests arriving later in the evening.

When doors are secured with double locks, the method of securing them changes and requires more time and effort. To begin with, the entry is made using the essential “bar key,” and then the thief secures himself inside before working on the inner lock, always finding his key where it is normally kept. This key is taken out of the lock, and a hole is drilled directly through the back plate of the lock and the door; this hole must be large enough to admit the introduction of a fine pair of nippers for turning the key. Once the bolt has been tightened through a newly drilled hole, the area is repaired with putty and repainted to restore its original appearance.

There is another mode of “fixing” the inside lock, which is frequently resorted to but is not so generally successful as the one above mentioned, and that is simply to bore a large gimlet hole through the lock plate and the door and then to file a slot in the end of the key, like that in the head of a screw. This avoids a large putty hole on the outside of the door, and a small sharp-edged hole inserted into the hole will snag into the slot at the end of the key, which can then be turned like a screwdriver and screw. Special attention is always paid to the location of the locks and to the position of the bed in the room so that no delay can be caused by the difficulty in locating the sleeper immediately by the uncertain light entering through the aft mirror, the door, or the faintly burning gas in the corridors.

After all, the required preparations are finished, and six to twenty rooms are prepared for entry, the thieves quietly waiting for dusk before making their move. Records are carefully monitored to determine which of the rooms they have “fixed” should be occupied, and an estimate is made, if possible, of the individuals assigned to them, to select those from whom the richest crop can be harvested.

The next precaution, and this is of utmost importance, is to carefully study the habits of detectives or guards who perform their duties during the night. To achieve this, thieves often must wait two or three nights to be able to closely observe and understand the routines of those who guard hotel guests and their belongings.

Before explaining how burglaries of this type are typically committed, we will first describe the types and functions of the tools and equipment that make up the toolkit of an expert hotel burglar.

The keys and drill bits used by these specialized thieves are of peculiar construction. These devices are made of a straight steel bar with interchangeable tips. They are easy to use with standard stem or drum locks and present no challenge. Files, drills, punches, etc. are of the usual pattern but are made of fine, highly tempered steel. The “sectional stem” is an instrument of great peculiarities and is an especially useful tool in the hands of a skilled worker. It is made of fine steel or iron and includes two metal parts: one about eight inches long, the other about two inches long, and about as thick as a small punch. The front may fall off after passing the door because the parts are loose with a screw or rivet. A fine, strong cord is fastened to the end of this stem, which, on being pulled, draws the end down until it is at right angles with the piece to which it is attached, and by retaining the tension of the string, the instrument is kept in proper position for work. At the other end, there is a knob or ball that the operator can turn to operate the point. This “sectional stem” is used for slipping the bolts on the inside of a door, and the manner of working it is as follows: the stem, with both parts perfectly straight, is inserted into the hole drilled through the door over the bolt; the rope is then pulled, which causes the end piece of the stem to fall, thus forming an L; and then, when the latch handle is touched, simply by turning the knob or handle, it slides as easily as if the operation were performed from the inside.

The “wrench” is a particularly important instrument, and by the nature of its construction, in the hands of an expert manipulator, it will open any ordinary door from the outside without any prior preparation. It consists of the bar and handle of an ordinary key, with a slot at the end, in which the bits can be inserted, which are specially designed for the locks of the general doors of hotels, and a screw that secures these bits in place.

By the above arrangement, it will be seen that bits of different kinds and shapes may be inserted into the bar, and the key of the rooms occupied by the thieves will at once show them the nature of the bit that they will require in order to work upon the others.  The T and L bits are manufactured in such a variety that they will open any door that is not provided with drum locks, and when drum locks are used, the bits necessary to open these doors can be easily purchased or manufactured by the thief himself.

The "widdy" is a small piece of wire bent with a rope tied, forming a kind of arc.

With this simple instrument passing through a keyhole, if the bolt is under the lock, or a bugle hole is made for this purpose, if over the lock, a burglar can pull back any shroud, spring, or sliding bolt that is now in use, no matter what position it is in or how the knob is placed.

In addition to this, the “widdy” will operate the finest night-latch in existence, and for a variety of purposes it is one of the most useful of articles.

Typically, bent pieces of wire are formed in the following shapes:

The first is used to pull back the sliding bolts when turning the knob up; the other is used when turning the knob down. Usually, four sizes of this cable are taken away, so if the first one does not catch the bolt, the next one is used, and so on. The advantage of this is that it avoids the need to have more than one bugle hole in the door. The "widdy,” however, will dispense with the use of these wires, as that instrument will perform its work anywhere. These wire tools are usually made of umbrella wire and can be easily molded by someone skilled in their use, especially when the proper tools are employed.

When everything is ready for the operation, and the guests are all sleeping soundly in their beds, the thieves begin their work. Their job becomes easy when the hallways are empty. It is quick and safe for them to enter the bedrooms of the sleepers. If a security guard is present, thieves closely monitor their actions, and when they leave their post, even briefly, they give themselves enough time to act. Five minutes is often all the time a skilled burglar spends working in a single room. Armed with his 'bar wrench,' tweezers, and 'sectional stem,' he exits while his partner, unobserved, keeps a close eye on all surroundings and is prepared to give a quick warning in case of danger.

If the sleeper to be operated upon has left the key in the outer lock, the nippers are used, and in a twinkling, that part of the difficulty is over, and the key is turned so quickly and noiselessly that no one would be aware of what was going on. If, however, the door has an internal lock or double lock and a bolt, the mass or plug with which the drilled hole has been concealed is quickly removed; then the tongs are inserted, and, in the event that the internal key has been filed beforehand, as I have mentioned, the sharp punch is used, which, fitting into the slot at the end of the key, makes it rotate easily. Then the so-called "sectioned stem" is inserted through the hole, or the "hook,” or the curved wire, which is placed just above the bolt; the rope is pulled, and, with a simple twist of the wrist, the bolt is released, and any obstacle that prevents the thief from entering is removed.

If the door, however, is secured with the common chain locks, the way to handle them is as follows: the door is opened enough so that the thief can insert the arm through the slit and measure from the edge of the door to the edge of the plate. This occurs only if no preparations are made; otherwise, when the thief has already prepared the room, the hole will be drilled in advance. Through the hole thus made, a thin wire, the thickness of a silk thread, is passed, and, with the door open, the wire is introduced through the eye of the "bolt" inside. A small button is attached to the end of the wire. Then, when closing the door, carefully pull the wire, which causes the chain to move back towards the plate opening and coming loose. With all obstacles removed, the thief gently turns the doorknob and glides silently into the room. The first thing to be done is to replace the plugs in the holes in the door. The act is executed in a split second; then the thief, still bowing, quickly grabs the clothes of the unsuspecting sleeper. Adopt a stooped posture or drop to your knees, as these positions are natural: everyone lying down or awake suddenly looks up, not down. His movements are as swift as lightning and as silent as an Indian following a trail. If the thief stumbles upon a respectable sum of money or a wallet, he immediately interrupts his search; however, if he finds only a few loose coins, he proceeds and then examines the bed. If the vest is missing, deduce that it has been hidden under the pillow. His experience has given him discernment, allowing him to deduce, by the simple order or disorder of the sheets, whether the occupant has hidden something of value under the mattress or under the headboard. If the sheet is displaced and hangs near the center of the bed, he knows with full certainty that the mattress keeps what he covets, because the waitresses, without exception, carefully put the sheets under the mattress; but if, on the contrary, everything appears well adjusted and tucked, understand that the booty is under the head of the sleeper. With a few skillful moves, the thief gets the prey, regardless of whether it is hidden under the pillow or the mattress. He retires with the same stealth with which he entered, cautiously closes the door behind him, and seals it from the outside. Often, after entering, thieves secure the door, and this explains their way of proceeding. Once the treasure is safe, the key goes back into the lock. A silk thread is tied around the latch handle, the ends of which are made to pass through the slit of the door to the outside. When pulling said thread, the bolt retracts inside its box. Then one of the ends is released, pulled through the opening, and removed. With the tongs, they take the key again and close the door, leaving it exactly as the victim had left it.

In cases where there are only an ordinary lock and bolt, entry is usually achieved without altering or damaging the door in the slightest: the "hook" is inserted through the keyhole and actuates the mechanism without the need to drill, thus minimizing the chances of being discovered.

When the sleeper wakes up in the morning and, to his dismay, discovers that he has been the victim of a robbery, his first impulse is to examine the door locks. When he finds nothing suspicious in them, he is completely bewildered, without being able to explain what happened; and even when he finds everything unlocked and the door intact, he naturally concludes, with a dejected heart, that he forgot to take the necessary precautions before going to bed, and so he communicates it at the reception. There, the guest is warned to be more careful and to leave their valuables in the care of the manager.

How a thief manages to extract objects from under a mattress or pillow without waking the sleeper has always been a mystery to most. The method employed by the thief usually consists of uncovering his right arm to the shoulder, holding the mattress or pillow with his left hand, lifting it gently and firmly, and slowly inserting the bare arm, carefully extracting whatever he finds hidden in that hiding place.

The victims of hotel robbers receive the very delicate title of "patients," and the patient way in which they usually undergo the operations of the skilled thief fully justifies the application of this term.

Sometimes it happens—although I am happy to say that very rarely—that the people in charge of protecting the guests of a hotel against the visits of these nocturnal marauders turn out to be too malleable, and that the gift of a ten- or twenty-dollar bill to one of such gentlemen is enough to ensure their absence during the time that the thief needs to act. There are many cases in which these criminals have remained unnoticed and in continuous activity for an entire week in a single hotel, although that period is the maximum in which they tend to limit their depredations to the same place. The thief, confident and bold, even goes as far as to report a robbery himself to cover his tracks. The thief wears soft wool garments and stockings of the same fabric when entering a room. When silence reigns, the faint touch of a shirt can be loud enough to wake the sleepers. Therefore, it happens that the thief is accustomed, without exception, to covering himself with a wool shirt when he tries to seize the jewelry or property of his sleeping victims.

There is a certain class of hotel robbers who limit their operations to the period commonly known as the “sports season.” They follow trotters and thoroughbreds and tour county fairs, baseball games, and other shows or amusements capable of gathering large crowds. They usually arrive in cities or towns two or three days before the start of such events, and thus, thanks to diligent work, they manage to have numerous empty rooms that they can "prepare" before the influx of visitors breaks out and the hotels are full. The procedure of drilling the doors was sometimes unnecessary when there were fans or skylights on them, especially if there was not enough time to prepare the locks for a night’s entry. The instrument used in such cases was an ingenious artifact that anyone, whether mechanical or not, could build without difficulty. It consisted of two pieces of thin, firm wood: one about a meter long and the other about twenty centimeters long. The ends of both were joined by a loose screw that allowed them to rotate easily. At the end of the smaller piece, three small strips of wood were nailed—one in front and one on each side—forming a kind of box open on one of its sides, as illustrated in the attached figure.

Two men always work to use this instrument. One is placed in front of the door, while the lighter one climbs on his shoulders and, opening the upper fan completely, introduces the arm and hand that hold the device described above. By manipulating this device, the box-shaped end of the club comes into contact with the handle of the key, which is held between the three raised edges of the key. By pressing down on the long end, the small box turns, and with it turns the key, in the same way as a crank is operated. With this movement, the latch retracts, and the door opens quickly. The sleeping guest is then at the mercy of thieves. This method has many attractions, since it leaves no traces of struggle or indentations on locks or keys, and the door remains intact; but it also has its drawbacks, such as the need for two men to remain at the door, the greater risk of being discovered, and the impossibility of operating the locks with the same speed as by means of the clamps, the punch, or the so-called "sectional stem."

This is, therefore, the complete account of the actions of the hotel thief, and it is advisable to warn travelers to proceed with caution. To the guest staying in one of these establishments, I would say: always inspect the door of your room before going to bed and carefully observe the keys and fans. Never bring large sums of money or valuable jewelry with you; leave them in the hands of the receptionist, who will keep them in the safe.

 

This procedure not only offers an effective defense against thieves but also forces the hotel owner to assume responsibility for its custody and to make restitution in case of loss. In this context, and in exposing the maneuvers of the professional hotel thief, I cannot fail to mention another curious specimen, absent from court reports and rarely seen within the walls of a prison. I am referring to the elegant and tiny salesman, a gentleman with exceedingly high ideas about life and, unfortunately, a salary far below his aspirations. No one, however, would guess. He is always dressed in the latest fashion innovations, carries samples of a certain value, and wears jewelry of impeccable quality: his meager but select diamond repertoire is, without a doubt, the finest and purest. Everything about him speaks of fortune... except, of course, his pocket. This young man arrives in the city, visits the shops, makes his sales, and collects his accounts. A stay of just one week is enough to dispel, with care worthy of a better cause, the modest salary that should have lasted three months. Miracle? Ah, the method is of exemplary simplicity. After some lavish orgy—one of those that leave more glory than money—the handsome young man makes his appearance the next morning before the owner of the hotel. He comes upside down, wrapped in an air of domestic tragedy, grim gesture, and broken composure, all of it a living portrait of outraged virtue and newly premiered misfortune. His eyes, unset by despair—or a hangover—gleam tragically; his once flawless attire now hangs in heroic disarray, like the uniform of a martyr to duty. What immense metamorphosis has brought such ruin? The answer, of course, is soon revealed: the young man has been stolen! The day before, he declares with touching humility, he had retired early to his room, a model of sobriety and good manners. But, at dawn, oh dread, he discovers that his door has been forced and his riches vanished. His narration, told with the eloquence of misfortune and the seriousness of the theater, sounds—more was missing—entirely credible.

Although he is rarely discovered or punished, this young man is still a professional criminal, just like the one I mentioned earlier.