Thief with Remorse

Ok, here’s a bizarre story. Sit down for this one…

Last Friday we performed at Zwolse Theaters, Odeon. Sold out except for 2 seats, so we were really looking forward to it. It’s always a great time to play in Zwolle. On top of that, Jaap Reedijk came along to take photos. What more could you want? Anyway, we arrive at the theatre with plenty of time to spare and start setting up. The show goes smoothly and we come off stage euphoric. It’s so good when it all comes together, that’s what you do it for! We were also staying overnight in a hotel, so we planned to turn that euphoria into a few drinks at the hotel bar. Everything’s packed up, I grab my jacket from the dressing room, put it on and to my great surprise I don’t feel my wallet in its usual spot. Mild panic, because I’m quite particular about my wallet and I know for certain it was in my jacket pocket. A search through the entire theatre follows, retracing all my steps… but no wallet! I break out in a sweat, because on top of all my debit cards and credit cards, my driving licence and vehicle registration are in there too. I decide to grab my phone and log into my ING banking app. Sure enough, there are all kinds of transactions in Zwolle. Money has also been withdrawn on my Rabo card. Bloody hell, those dirty rats broke into our dressing room! At that point drummer Leon checks his wallet and discovers to his great horror that his cards were also taken. But fortunately he still has his wallet. I decide to quickly check my backpack, but luckily they left my laptop and other valuables alone. They were clearly after the bank cards only… through contactless payments they racked up 130 euros in damage in no time. I immediately call the banks to have my cards blocked. There goes the vibe, there goes the mood… once at the hotel we try to piece together what happened. It happened during our soundcheck. That started just before 17:00 and the first transaction was at 17:12 in the City Spar (about a 3 minute walk from the theatre). After that they went to the Bjorn Borg shop to buy underpants (!), then the Etos, twice the Kruidvat, the Mac, and finally they got on a train towards Assen and then made their way to Groningen.

Saturday morning I start early piecing together the comings and goings of the thieves. I decide to call all the shops and ask if they have security footage. They do… and the funny thing is the thieves are very easy to identify. It’s a man and a woman. Both have a dark complexion and the woman has blue (!!) hair and a tattoo on her cheekbone. You can’t miss them. It’s really helpful how cooperative everyone was. All the shops secured the footage so the police could come and collect it. The banks were also great - the same Saturday ING had already returned my money. Impressive. Rabo followed a day later. Also excellent.

But here’s where it gets interesting. Sunday evening. I’m sitting on the couch, ready for the F1 race in Mexico. Small beer on the side. Then suddenly I get a private message on Instagram:

“Dear Ed, I have sent your cards to the address on the photo. And please your account number so I can return the money. My sincere apologies”

I choke on my beer. You can’t be serious that the thieves reach out to me directly. The name on the account can’t be Googled either. So my first thought is that I’m being trolled by a certain unnamed colleague. I’ve experienced that before, so nothing surprises me anymore. But no, this person is completely serious. I asked questions but got no response… last Wednesday at my mother’s address (I wonder how they got that) an envelope dropped through the letterbox containing almost all my cards! The only things missing: my NS business card, my waste card from the municipality, and the wallet itself. Oh man, what a story. So many questions… what happened, did the thieves have a falling out? Did they simply feel guilty? Did they look me up online, read my story and then feel remorse? Pfff. Should I drop the police report or just go through with it? They haven’t returned the money yet, by the way.

The moral of the story is that I’ll never leave my stuff unattended in a dressing room again. Or at the very least put things in lockers when they’re available. A call to all theatres in the Netherlands: make sure your backstage area isn’t accessible to everyone. Put a combination lock on the door or just have someone open it for us when we need to step out for a moment. Not everyone can be trusted, but fortunately there are also thieves with a conscience. There’s still hope, there’s always hope!