A high wall. Brick. Thick. Topped with razor wire. Beyond which, dogs. Growling. Growling dogs, not small, not soft mouthed. Plus, highly likely, laser beams, the breaking of which summons people in uniforms. People with guns. Not soft faced people.
Inside the house in the leafy suburb, expensive things with good resale value. Maybe keys for the latest model German car that’s parked in the driveway, maybe an expensive watch, jewellery. Cash, no doubt. All portable. What’s in the safe?
Someone walks slowly towards me. I inspect the wall and the razor wire, think about the dogs, the men with guns. I hear the footsteps close by. I turn. An old woman. Carrying a handbag.
Ah well. Better than nothing; low hanging fruit. I walk towards her.