I take my (metaphorical) hat off to our local police. Not only did they call us back, not only did they come round and see us, but we also had a visit from the Forensic Unit, in a van marked Crime Scene, no less.
They know who it was. There is apparently a gang of youths who have been working their way around neighbouring districts, and now they've moved on to our little estate. Which is quiet, and friendly, and relatively new, and (until now) crime free.
The police actually caught a couple of them last week, but had to let them off with a warning as it was their first offence. (I don't know, but the impression is that these lads are young.) They believe that the lads have paid no attention to the warning and simply continued on their merry way, and they'd very much like to find a fingerprint where it should not be. Then they can get them into court.
Unfortunately although there were several promising places in our car, the prints all turned out to be too smudged to use. The nice forensics chap was going straight on from our place to a house a few hundred yards away, where these lads had also paid a visit.
I really am impressed. We've got used to being cynical about the police 'not bothering' to turn up at burglaries. It's not like that any more, people.
I've finished the Firestarters, by the way. Did I say that already? Cannot remember at all.
And I've started Dusk. I'd forgotten how much I love Felted Tweed. And I've nearly finished seaming Nissa.
Photos when it stops raining and hailing and snowing. Most unseasonal, really.