How to Be a Better Burglar

Our internal investigations have come a long way since the nervous nights of skulking around offices.

July 01, 2006 — CSO — Some years back, the place I worked went through significant changes that caused great upheaval and stress throughout the workforce. Most people accepted the changes and dealt with them professionally. A few people didn’t have the necessary coping skills, and they acted out. One way of acting out came in the form of anonymous letters sent to the board of directors, executive management and a few senior people in some of our sales offices. The letters were not complimentary of the corporate leadership, and a disruptive buzz began around the company.

Management wanted to locate the source and choke it off, and that was where I came in. I was asked to do some sleuthing and figure out who was behind the letters.

Because the letters were apparently typed on a computer and then laser printed, it seemed logical to look for trace evidence on people’s PCs. With hundreds of PCs as potential crime scenes, we tried to narrow the field by assembling a list of possibly disgruntled employees. The list included about two dozen people who all worked on the top floor of the building. I did some initial reconnaissance and figured out where all the offices were. Because this event occurred before the days of sophisticated forensics tools, I also prepared some diskettes with homegrown search routines.

To avoid tipping my hand and generating a lot of commotion in the work area, I planned to come into work at night after people had left for the day. Armed with a floor plan marked with the suspect device locations and my programmatic burglary tools, I rode the elevator to the top floor and began my search. With so many devices to search, I had to move quickly and methodically. I found a workstation, booted it up, write-locked it and started running my tools. I had four tool diskettes so that I could simultaneously search four devices.

The work areas were vacant. The cleaning people had come and gone, and the lights were off. I felt every bit the Watergate burglar as I quietly went from desk to desk, office to office in my search. I was surprised that my padding about the workplace at night invited not one visit from the building’s security guards. (Those were the days, too, before 9/11 and increased physical security.)

I felt sneaky and creepy as I violated the sanctity of each personal work space. Although the offices were company property and nobody had a legal expectation of privacy, it still felt wrong to be poking around other people’s stuff. As I moved aside knickknacks, family pictures and other personal items, I used as much care and respect as I could.