The Detective

This story has been published in Abandoned Towers Magazine. 


    "Would you let me look inside your bag, madam?"

    "What? No...no, I won't. Who are you? What do you want?"

    "I'm the store detective, madam. Here's my identification. Now, please let me check your bag."

    "If you must."

    "Thank you. Let's see, what have we here? Have you paid for this?"

    "I was going to. I...I forgot."

    "And this? Did you forget this as well?"

    "Are you going to arrest me?"

    "I have no powers of arrest, madam. It's the manager's decision whether to call the police, or not."

    "Couldn't you just caution me, or something?"

    "I told you, it's not up to me."

    "Where are we going? Where are you taking me?"

    "Let's not make a scene. This is just the manager's office. Have a seat. He won't be long, I'm sure."

    "Oh, please let me go. I'll do anything."

    "Will you, now?"

    "Almost anything."

    "Just as well; you're a bit long in the tooth for my taste."

    "Cheeky sod. Look, I've got to pick my kids up from school. Where is this manager of yours?"

    "Off sick, actually."

    "Off sick? What is this? What's going on?"

    "Well, I do have a proposition for you, as it happens."

    "But you said..."

    "Not that. Something else."

    "Oh yes? Let's hear it, then."

    "Do a lot of shop-lifting, do you?"

    "What business is it of yours?"

    "You could work for me and my mates."

    "What mates?"

    "Store detectives. In other stores. We've got half a dozen girls working for us already."

    "You're offering me a job? Nicking stuff?"

    "It's foolproof. You only do it when one of us is on duty, so no-one's any the wiser."

    "I'd much rather nick you."

    "Eh?"

    "Foolproof, indeed. We've had our eye on you lot for weeks."

    "Wait a minute.You're not...?"

    "Detective Sergeant Joan Willis, at your service. Here's my identification. I'll give you 'long in the tooth.'  On your feet."