It is the night between Sunday and Monday. It is four minutes after one o’ clock. A man slides silently along in the shadows of the house wall and past the brass framed door of the art gallery “Sackmann & Litt”. The man is wearing a dark suit and a dark roll-neck pullover under it. In his left hand, he is carrying a small suitcase. His target seems to be the back of the house. He nimbly climbs over the large, wrought iron gate into the yard and then pulls himself up onto a cordon. A hardly perceptible grating noise gives away the use of a glass cutter. Somewhere a clock strikes once. A crack, and the night time visitor pulls a round piece of glass from the window. The rest is child’s play. No one notices him as he glides through the gallery. He turns to the right, crosses through several rooms and reaches the so-called ‘pewter chamber’, in which lots of pewter apparatus from the Middle Ages are on show. He opens the suitcase and starts to choose specific ones and pack them into the case. As the clock strikes twice, it happens: with an accidental arm movement he knocks a pewter tankard from the shelf. A loud, penetrating clattering fills the room, and to the intruder, it sounds like a canon. Without a movement he listens carefully into the night… nothing …or maybe not? The caretaker Julius Buckner, who lives on the ground floor, hears the noise. He does not doubt at all that the noise has come from the gallery. He quickly jumps into a jacket and trousers and then considers—should he call the police first or should he call the owner of the gallery, Mr Sackmann, who only lives two doors away? Or, should he try and confront the thief? He decides on the last option.
As he reaches the Baroque hall, he catches a glimpse of the thief who tries to leave through the window. “Stop!” he shouts and lunges towards the window. Engelbert Sackmann is woken with a shock. He goes to the phone sleepily. “Yes?” “It’s me, Mr Sackmann Buckner. There’s been a break-in!” Sackmann is awake straight away. “Have you caught him?” “No … I am calling from the telephone box outside the gallery. The crook has cut through the telephone wire …” Sackmann already has one leg out of bed. “Run to the police; I’m on the way!” He throws the telephone down and has a quick look at the clock. 2 o’clock … Ten minutes later, he arrives at the gallery, at 2.43 Julius Buckner arrives with the police. At 2.50 Engelbert Sackmann hands a list of stolen items over to the police: 19 pewter tankards, a dance group made from Dresden China, 2 paintings and a 70cm high Madonna from the 17th century. Inspector Lange shakes his head once and again. Then he says what he thinks:
“I’m sorry, but I have the impression, that not only one but two thieves have been at work here.” “What do you m—m—mean?” stuttered Sackmann, while the caretaker looks at the officials with a face full of confusion. “One of you two must have sensed the opportunity to round off the robbery. One man alone cannot possibly carry all of the items which are on this list….”
This is our question to all amateur detectives: Which of the two men jumped at the opportunity— the caretaker, Julius Buckner, the gallery owner, Engelbert Sackmann?
Solution
Only the caretaker comes into question as the culprit. The conversation took place as the clock struck twice. Two strikes represent 1.30. Sackmann was only told about the break-in at 2.20. He arrived at the gallery at 2.40 and the police arrived 3 minutes later. Therefore, there was too little time to put something to the side. The caretaker had a whole hour before anyone arrived.
