I daresay wireless all-weather audio is afoot.

Gaius Blackamon held his breath and listened. The heavy steps of the patrolling officer drew nearer and, mere feet from the thief's place of hiding, he stopped and called out.

"Three o'clock and all is well!"

Is it indeed, officer? Gaius thought. The sound of boot on cobblestone receded in the fog, and he waited…one…two…three…ten. Lifting his cloak, he emerged from the corner of the mercantile's facade and set about the front door with a long delicate pick.

"Halt, thief!" Light broke out on the rogue. He darted sideways, but saw immediately that he was surrounded. "There's no escape, Mr. Blackamon. We have you this time."

As the officers loaded him in the chaise, Gaius planted his foot on the door and asked the commanding officer, "How on Earth did you do it?"

Lieutenant Furbush smiled, pointed at the street lantern, and clicked a button in his coat. The sound of footsteps echoed through the misty street, and then: "Three o'clock and all is well!"

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