The Mystery of the Keys

At about 11:30 I went to the letter box to check the post. There were two things therein.
The first was a nice thick jiffy-bag addressed to Patricia.
The second was a bunch of keys, including one of the expensive special keys used on the locks on the doors of our flats. £60 a key. And not ours. A different flat.

I considered my options.

I could just pop the keys into a different letter box and if everyone did this then within a few weeks the keys would find their owner.

I could go to the top floor of the block of flats and, working downwards, try the keys in each door. When I found the flat they fitted I could pop them into the appropriate letter box.

I made a sign. If your keys would have been put in the bad letter box please ring and my mobile number. I attached the sign to the wall in the porch with blue tak.

Quite quickly I got a text message. "I lost a key outside the flats somewhere some weeks ago. If it's an individual key then it could be mine." I replied "Sorry. It's a bunch of keys."

Later a phone call. "Yes, my daughter got the wrong letter box."

Oh well. It could have been the start of a wonderful new career as a cat burglar, but instead the nice elderly lady was glad to see her keys.

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