SPOT THE CRIME
"Red Mercedes Saloon, registration
number XXY 001, you have left your lights on."
The girl in the yellow uniform switched off the microphone, and looked
over at the man who had handed her that message. But he had already gone.
As she again switched on the mike to draw the customers' attention to today's
specials, all she could recall was that the man was nondescript. He could
have melted into any crowd with no difficulty whatsoever.
The said man walked through the automatic doors, and into the parking
lot. In his line of work, being nondescript counted as a definite advantage.
He was a car thief. He sweated profusely while searching for a shady spot.
Not that he was nervous. Nerve was something he was never without. He was
sweating simply because it was 37 degrees in the shade. Almost the old
century. And humid. An altogether uncomfortable day to be working, especially
out in the sun, where most of the cars were. Shade was in very short supply.
Before walking into the Coles shopping complex and handing the note
to the head spruiker, he had been out in the parking lot (in the hot sun)
for over half an hour. Even dressed in summer casuals, the perspiration
soaked his shirt. His one comfort was that he did not burn easily. Yes,
it was a terrible day to be working. But he had to make a living.
A car thief he was, but he rarely stole the car itself. Joy riding
held no joy for him, and he looked down on vandalism as much as any decent,
upright citizen. No, he was interested only money and valuables. Anything
easily stolen and quickly convertible to cash.
In large carparks like this one, he had a set Modus Operandi. First,
he would cast a keen, experienced eye over the sea of bonnets and roofs,
to see if anything leapt out as likely at first glance. Then, he would
spend the next fifteen minutes or so wandering around, making a closer
inspection. During this period, he would casually back up to any particular
door that seemed likely to have been left unlocked. Finally, when he had
selected the most likely prospects, he would zero in, and out, as quickly
and casually as possible.
Not that stealing from a locked car was much more difficult. Even from
a car with an alarm. If he wanted in, locked or unlocked, alarm or no alarm,
he would be in under fifteen seconds and out again in no more than one
minute. The very soul of efficiency, stealth and discretion.
After his wandering around period that day, he selected a certain Red
Mercedes as a likely target of his purloining prowess. Clearly new, and
well kept. That meant that the owners were, at least, well off. It was
parked in full sun, like most of the other cars, with the windows up, locked.
The side window bore a sticker, warning people like him that a such-and-such
alarm protected this vehicle. Ha ! Public apathy, combined with his own
skill made even the best alarm useless.
**
"Red Mercedes Saloon, registration number XXY 001, you have left
your lights on."
A well-dressed, well-manicured woman in her late twenties tapped her
husband's shoulder.
"Darling, that's us !"
"What ?" replied her equally well-dressed and -manicured
husband, vacantly inspecting a long-legged, buxom checkout chick.
"That announcement. She said that our lights are on."
"I don't believe it. You haven't left the lights on for ... oh
... weeks now."
She made a face. She usually drove when they went shopping together
and, to his irritation, liked to drive with the headlights on. Even during
the day. He usually made some comment, but she had only to remark on how
much safer it was, to be more visible to other drivers, to silence him.
They strolled out to the car together (having bought nothing yet),
quietly bickering all the way.
"That gadget-thing must have broken" she said.
"What gadget ?"
"You know. That thing that buzzes when you leave the lights on".
"Yes, dear." If you didn't insist on having them on, he thought,
we wouldn't need to worry about it. But he held his tongue. He did not
want to sleep on the couch tonight.
**
From the shade (there was a little), the car thief watched the young
couple approach their vehicle. He allowed an anticipatory smirk to seat
itself on his face.
The young couple reached their Mercedes. The first thing they noticed
was that the lights were not on. This irritated the man, and seemed to
amuse his wife. The second thing they noticed were the windows wound down.
The man was upset. Our car's been broken into !
The woman was not upset. She was puzzled.
She was the first to see a small scrap of paper pinned to the steering
wheel. While her husband continued being upset, she read the scrawled note.
Her face blanched.
The note began -
"Your baby was suffering heat exhaustion. He could have died in
under twenty minutes."
The thief had looked in the back window to see a baby, in basket, obviously
suffering. A baby can die of heat exhaustion in less than an hour in a
sealed, unventilated car on a hot day. The thief knew, from his preliminary
scan of the carpark 30 mins before, that this car had been there at least
for those thirty minutes. How could the parents be so careless ?
"Please pardon my intrusion (continued the note). Nothing was
stolen, as you have nothing worth taking. Please be more careful next time.
He's such a pretty lad."
It was not signed. The man in the shade turned and walked away.
Now, spot the crime.
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