Locksmithing and Security

Does your door lock employ two or three cylindrical bolts and maybe another pair of bolts top and bottom? Do you wind these bolts out and wind them back in again?

You may have a Mul-T-Lock door. If you look around the handle fittings you’ll usually find the name there.

The good news is that if you do have such a door, you have a very good door and lock system—pretty strong and secure. Your letterbox, for example, is probably a long way from the lock and is protected by a nice strong cowl.

Around here, most of these doors are on properties that were once owned by the local authority.

The “bad” news is that changing the cylinder is a little more expensive. This winding business is done via the cylinder (a euro- or “pear”- shaped cylinder) having a cog-wheel to do the work. (A regular euro cylinder has a cam that “flips” the lock rather than winds it.) These unusual cog cylinders are nearly three times the cost of a regular cylinder.

The other thing, and the main reason for the post, is to note that, apart from the cylinder, the door and lock are an integral system. If you’re buying a place with a Mul-T-Lock door, try to obtain from the sellers, especially if it is the local authority, details of who can repair/replace the door. I can’t you see.

When I built the workshop at the bottom of the garden (OK, it’s a shed), I’m glad to say I went a bit over-the-top insulating it. I was going to line the walls with pegboard so I put polystyrene foam and aluminium foil behind the pegboard. By the way, holes are darned expensive: pegboard is more than three times the price of plain hardboard. I couldn’t see any way of doing the same kind of thing for the roof, so I gritted my teeth and stumped up the money for the proper thing—foil-coated polyfoam.

The trouble is I should never have let the cat watch Pinocchio. When I’m working down there, he fancies coming in and helping. Once he’s in, however, and sees the reality of filing things, he quickly gets bored and wants to go out. Then, only having a slightly better memory than a goldfish, he wants to come in again. And so it goes; along with my nice warm air.

I thought I’d heard of most scams. But here’s one from the FSB (Federation of Small Businesses) scamwatch pages that I hadn’t heard of.

You get into your car in a car park and start it up. You reverse out of your space and see a note stuck to the rear window. You get out to retrieve the notice, the scumbags then jump into your car—engine running and unlocked—and off they go.

So if you’ve just got into your car and are moving off, don’t be persuaded to stop and investigate any little peculiarities. Wait until you’re a good distance away before you investigate. If you must stop just after you’ve moved off, be very careful. Have a good look around from the inside with the doors locked first. If you must get out, try to wait until a family is in the vicinity and then switch off the engine, take your keys and take your purse.

I had already heard of another much scarier scam. You start to reverse, there’s a scream, you stop and leap out only to find someone under the rear of your car. But you didn’t hit them. They were hiding; they screamed first and then slid into place after you stopped.

We have just decided that we are no longer accepting jobs from a certain area of Putney in south-west London. There are so many barriers and “no entry”s, that unless you have a specialist map you cannot get to a significant proportion of the residents. And, of course, your customer is necessarily always going to be included in that percentage. And of course that map isn’t available to tradespeople.

I have a brother-in-law who is a topologist—I really do—and he agrees that there are certain streets that you cannot reach, and one street where if you do manage to get to it, you can never leave again. (Topology is the branch of mathematics which says a teacup is the same as a doughnut, which can prove the hairy ball theorem—that you can’t comb down the hairs of a hairy ball without creating a cowlick—and which probably started with the proof, long ago, that there was no promenade that would take a walker over each and every one of the seven bridges of Königsberg just once.)

I’m getting a call a day from the same bunch of cold callers. They are the Locksmith Register. They were pests when they were on their own. Now they’re part of BT Customerstreet, which is part of BT Directories. BT Directories bought a whole bunch of pests via their acquisition of web “services” companies such as Ufindus and the original Customerstreet.

If you’re a tradesperson in the UK you may well have received a nuisance call from the same bunch. I’m sure they pester plumbers, decorators, etc. just as badly. They open with “I’m calling from BT and I’m looking for a locksmith/plumber/whatever.” Of course they’re not. They’re looking to sell you website building or “optimization”. And if you take only a short look at the results of a google search on BT Customerstreet, you’ll struggle to find any happy customers; the only positive stuff you will find is BT Customerstreet’s own copious blogs which seem to be trying to crowd the complaint blogs and sites off the front few pages of google searches.

The other very annoying thing is their ignoring of the Telephone Preference Service or TPS. If you haven’t signed up with TPS, you might consider it. It does actually reduce the number of nuisance calls and cold calls that you get. A surprising number–the majority in fact–of telephone marketing and sales companies respect the TPS. But not BT Customerstreet.

Being BT they claim, with near certainty of being half right, that you are already a customer and therefore not covered by the TPS.

Anyway the good news is that the Office of Fair Trading have received several complaints. MPs have received complaints. Trades organisations have received complaints. So maybe something will happen to curb this unpleasant bunch.

The jaw-dropping antics of the marketeers know no bounds. Sainsburys have for sale in their stores–roll of drums–digital microwave ovens. Hmm. Cooking your food via a stream of numeric values. Interesting. And there was silly old me thinking that microwaves pretty much had to be, well, waves–elecromagnetic waves.

Perhaps, however, Sainsburys’ promotions department are aware of the dual nature of electromagnetic radiation and of quantum theory. They are proposing that ultimately microwaves are not continuous but quantized, and are therefore not zillions of light-years off the mark in using the term digital, only a mile or two off the mark.

If you’ve read the local locksmiths page of the main site, you’ll have read the little rant there about traders and call centres who flood the internet with sites claiming to be local locksmiths. Of course they’re not. They won’t get to in any reasonable time; in fact they won’t get to you at all; they’ll sub the job out to the nearest botcher on their books.

If you actually want a local trader, you’re better off doing a little checking–on the number for example. If it’s not a London number (or your local area code) then they’re not a local locksmith. If there’s only a mobile number, then check the fax number. Check the coverage claimed. If it’s every postcode in London and the home counties, for example, then they’re not your local locksmith. If they haven’t provided a geographic address on their website, then they’re flouting the Electronic Trading law.

This extra little rant was because I just spotted a “Clapham Locksmith” web site that does give a geographic address, but it’s in North London in Muswell Hill! Now that’s the other side of London from Clapham; and London is quite a big city.

I’ve had two weeks where almost every job suffered some kind of bugger factor and required a followup visit. Nobody’s fault; these things just happen; and they come in waves. You’ll have a week where you open five fire-safes and then you won’t see another for six months. You fit eight London bars in as many days, double your stock of them and then don’t get another request for weeks. But hey – the odd thing would be if there were no odd things.

Today, however, the gods were smiling. Initially it didn’t look good. It was pouring down and the door that needed opening had a lever lock and was set in an exposed wall. However I’d just bought a new, lined and hooded, hi-viz jacket that was still enjoying its waterproof flush of youth. I managed to park the van right outside, so I only needed to rust one expensive pick at a time. It turned out to be an uncurtained lock, which means that it could be picked in the traditional (easy) way. However–even better–the xxxxxxx keys which had been having a bad run and had not opened anything in months did the job.

Then I saw that the retaining screws had been completely burred over, meaning the lock wasn’t going to come out, and I’d have to make a return visit with the left-handed drill bits to drill the screws out (I’d neglected to put them back after using them in the workshop). But no. When I gave the screws an experimental whack with the sacrificial chisel the heads broke right off they were so rusty; and then they turned out not to be the retaining screws at all. Having wiped a cumulo-nimbus-worth of rain off my glasses, I saw they were just faceplate screws, with decent retaining screws underneath. And it wasn’t the old nasty Yale lever lock with plastic “springs” that I initially thought it might have been–was just weathering making it look so old–it was a newish Yale lever lock with a drop-in replacement available.

And the establishment turned out to be an inn. I was served a bowl of goulash, half a loaf of bread and a tankard of ale, by the fire, as well as my fee of course. (The tankard was small and it was the last job of the day.) Tra-la-la.

Imagine, heaven forbid, a bent postal worker, e.g. working in your local sorting office, who sees an envelope with an address on it (surprise, surprise) and can see or feel a key inside. Pretty tempting eh? You might also want to check out this Channel 4 programme

If you’re sending keys through the post, you must disguise their outline. We always cut around the key into some corrugated cardboard and tape the key in the hole, and we obscure the key’s keyring hole. And we then wrap that in paper and tissue paper.

You’re probably lucky if you make the even more basic mistake (and another locksmith sending me a key did this!) of putting the key, on its own, in an ordinary envelope. Let’s see now: key = sharp & metal, envelope = fragile & paper ⇒ key leaving envelope somewhere on journey (and hopefully before our putative bent worker sees it).

I’ve just been to replace a lock. The lock I was replacing was the worst fitting I’ve ever seen. They hadn’t drilled out the cylinder hole to the correct diameter so there was no room for the security sleeve that normally wraps around the cylinder, they had recessed the keep into the frame on the wrong axis, which meant that they’d then had to recess the lock too deeply into the door in two axes, all of which meant that the back of the lock was impinging the end of the cylinder.

And to make matters worse, this was one of the most expensive and interesting locks on the market–a Chubb Ava auto-deadlocking rimlock–or 4L67. This is a very nice lock: it can’t be slipped; it’s strong and it’s almost unpickable. The key is very unusual looking; although if you have a Ford or a Jaguar or a motorcyle chain lock from Abus, you would recognise the style of key. It starts life as a cylinder and then has flats machined on it at different angles. These flats rotate unsprung discs inside the cylinder. Chubb use this lock on their high-security filing cabinets. It’s one of the few rimlocks achieving the BS3621 lock standard.

So, if your rimlock (your “Yale”) looks like an ordinary Yale at first glance, but has a square bolt and a key with no teeth, treat it nicely, don’t lose your keys and don’t get locked out, both of which would be very expensive.

Oh, and Chubb don’t supply the cylinder on its own! You always have to replace the entire lock.