The Thief Who Smelt Nice

The plan had been to steal expensive perfume and sell it in the pub to someone who wanted to impress a wife or girlfriend as it was Valentine's Day. It was expensive Parisien stuff, too expensive for an ordinary person to justifiably buy for themselves. The way it worked, was that "items" would be sold for half their retail price or a price would be agreed after haggling. Raffles was pleased with his haul because it garaunteed the fix for that day, maybe even the next too. The stomach rumbled, reminding that he hadn't eaten for twenty four hours and he went into the Liddle supermarket turning himself sideways to enter the security turnstile. He fancied sausages. He slipped a pack of eight fat bangers into the inside pocket of his jacket. To leave he had to walk all around the shop and leave right next to where he came in. Passing by the checkouts he made to leave but a mean looking Slavic security guard barred his exit.

"You must come with me," he said in his East European accent.

"Why's that?" Said Raffles in feigned astonishment.

"Just come with this way," said the guard with a guiding hand on his shoulder.

This was a disaster. Raffles scolded himself for being such an idiot. It was as much to do with arrogance as hunger that had led him to try and take something from a shop whilst already in possession of stolen goods from another. Now he was caught. He was led to the back of the shop which was a store room area. A skip containing empty cardboard boxes stood by a large back door for taking deliveries from lorries. He looked in vain for a potential escape route. The Slavic security guard was on his radio to the manager, informing him with delight that he'd "caught one." While he was on the radio Raffles attempted to ditch the expensive perfume stolen earlier in the skip, however to do this he had to take them out of the bag he had over his shoulder and the security guard would have had to be blind to fail to notice this. The guard quickly retrieved the two boxes from the skip.

"I'll take the sausages as well," he said smirking.

By this time Raffles was getting quite worried about the gravity of the situation, because being arrested meant he wouldn't get to sell his perfume, wouldn't get his fix and would begin to withdraw. No doubt in a police cell. All because of a brief delusion of cocky confidence. There was nothing to do but wait for the police who quicky arrived, handcuffed him and with one either side, marched him out of the shop and into the van. The older policeman generously draped his jacket over his handcuffed wrist as if to protect his shame, as if he already seemed to believe that this was out of character, maybe Raffles didn't look like the stereotype. This held out the promise or at least the chance to Raffles of bluffing his way out of the situation.

In the interview room Raffles sat across the table from the older policeman. His younger female colleague sat taking notes. The older policeman' s generosity continued.

"So, whats it all about," he asked. He leaned back, folding his arms in a gesture for Raffles to tell his story.

It was now up to Raffles to be innocent, though guilty. His opening gambit was to sigh deeply and avert his eyes as if ashamed to find himself in the police station.

"I don't know," he shrugged.

"Just begin with the perfume," said the policeman. "how did you come by it?"

"I bought it on the street," Raffles replied.

"And who did you buy it from?" Asked the cop.

"A guy I see often in Gorgie offered it to me. He just asked me if I wanted to buy it and that he would give me a good deal. I could tell that they were genuine and I knew I could sell them at a profit as it was Valentine's day."

"What did you pay for them?" Asked the policeman.

"Ten quid," Raffles replied.

"Only ten quid?" Asked the policeman, surprised.

"I see this guy all the time," replied Raffles, "and I know he's got a problem. He'd obviously been trying to get rid of them for ages and wasn't having any luck, he was looking desperate and I felt sorry for him. So I gave him all I had which was the tenner that he needed."

To Raffle's surprise and relief the policeman seemed to accept this.

"When i was uptown," continued Raffles " I tried to get rid of the perfume in a couple of pubs but it wasn't happening and by this time I was starving and I'd spent my money, so I made a bad decision to take the sausages."

"Right," nodded the copper. "So you'd planned to sell the perfume at a profit and buy yourself some shopping," he said, filling in the gaps.

"Exactly," said Raffles in astonishment.

"It wasn't to buy drugs for yourself was it?" Added the Policeman as an afterthought.

"No way, I don't take drugs." Raffles replied in defence, contorting his face as if mildly injured. "well," he paused,
"Actually, I'm on antidepressants," he corrected.

"Got to ask," explained the policeman.

"I suppose so," nodded Raffles forgivingly.

"What'll happen to me," asked Raffles, changing tack. "Will I have to go to court?"

"Not for the sausages," said the policeman reassuringly. "It's too trivial since you don't have any previous. But as for the perfume that might be more serious, if they're reported stolen. Of course we could do a check to find out if any of the shops are missing them,but we may decide not to look too hard."

"Right," said Raffles. "I expect you're really busy with much more important stuff."

"I think we might be," he replied glancing over to his female colleaugue.

"I think so," she agreed.

"Right I think that about wraps things up," Said the policeman.

"You mean I can go," Said Raffles.

"Yes," replied the policeman.

"And thats it?" Asked Raffles.

"Just about," replied the policeman. You can expect a letter from the fiscal's office. Warning you to watch your behaviour in future."

"Right," said Raffles allowing himself to smile carefully. "be seeing you, or rather, I hope not," he joked gently, congratulating himself inwardly on his performance.

A few weeks later he answered his telephone, to the policeman.

"I'll be passing your place this afternoon," the policeman informed Raffles, "So I'll drop your property off at your house."

"My property?" Questioned Raffles, genuinely searching his memory.

"Yes," replied the policeman. "Your two bottles of perfume."

"I get them back?" replied Raffles in barely contained suprise.

"Well no-one came forward to claim it," said the policeman. "So you'll get it back when I stop by."

"Great!" Replied Raffles. "Thanks very much!"