The squad car drove slowly down the alley. The spot light roamed the walls and sidewalk. It settled on three men and three dogs. Two Rottweiler’s and a Shepherd.

The officer observed Connor picking the lock to the back door. He shouted, "Hey you!"

My brother handed me the picks and said, "I've got this."

He took his time as he approached the cop. Connor offered his hand in an unthreatening manner. The cop, from ingrained habit, shook hands. I realize looking back that it's hard to believe, but you don't know Connor. Unbelievably charming; class wrapped in a five thousand dollar suit; it is not uncommon for ones' defenses to dissipate when he turns on the charm.

Here's the hard part to believe: he introduces himself as Connor Jones. Actually uses his real name. My brother is either a criminal genius or certifiably insane. But get this. The cop introduces himself as well. James O’Donnell. “Call me Jimmy.”

Connor reaches into his suit pocket and removes a white envelope. Hands it to the police officer. He says, "Officer, while it is true that we are breaking and entering, our intentions are neither to steal anything nor harm anyone." Suggestion: Imagine this being spoken with a posh British accent.

I suppose that is technically correct. I mean, you're not really stealing something if it has already been stolen. Are you?

Connor spreads his coat and pirouettes for Jimmy. “No weapons Jimmy. No gloves to conceal our identities. What do you think?” Balls, real balls. The honest straightforward approach. Who would have thought?