Let’s be clear about ONE thing at least. I may have opened the door to the public patio and arched an eyebrow at him, to which he climbed down off the ladder and said “uh, I just stepped out for a smoke and the door locked on me,” and then watched him, eyebrow still cocked

You know, I was thinking it’s too bad I was wearing my baggy, size XL plaid flannel pj pants that my grandmother gave me, because although they are lovely well quite frankly, dowdy, but full of pretty colours, cosy, and remind me fondly of my grandmother,

Okay, I’ve given up on sleep any time soon and put HP and the C of S on. They’ve just come for him.

Hey, maybe he got onto the patio from a flying car? If someone dropped him off, that would totally account for it. If they had a new muffler.

So, I can see he didn’t come down from the roof on a rope. Neither to the upstairs patio nor to the lobby patio. The apartment building is four stories, but the bottom is sort of zigguratted out on this side, with the apartments on floor 2 sprawling away from the main part of the building a good 15 feet at the back. Floor 1 pokes out 15 or 20 feet beyond this, so my apartment is spacious and gifted with a patio/balcony of about 15’x25′.

The last time someone successfully broke into the building, they got into the parking garage, then climbed up the unused incinerator chute to the roof (quite a feat!) and rapelled down. Rappeled? Whatever. Then he got in the apartment above mine, which he ransacked. Hence my own trips out to the patio to “rope-peep.”

Nope, it wasn’t a rope, unless he had it on a hook and took it with him. Hey, he had a backpack. Maybe it was in there.