The Store Detective
Dennis was having another boring day.
With all the so called thieving that was supposed to occur in stores these days he was surprised how tedious a security guard's job could be. Not that it was that obvious... he was in plain clothes, jeans, tee shirt and trainers, employed to mingle with the crowd.
His face cracked in a wide yawn as he strolled past a display of contemporary ornaments - hideous, so he could hardly believe the intensity with which a young man was eyeing them, specificaly a large green and yellow pig. What on earth did he see in that? It looked cheap, certainly not the £29 on its price tag. Curiosity caused the detective to pause for a moment to quietly take in the lad's appearance. This was exactly the type of customer who needed watching, hooded jerkin designed to evade the CCTV system. Nevertheless it was with amazement that he observed the youth reach out and grab the porcine horror and stuff it deftly under his top.
The store had an exquisite collection of jewellery along with expensi ve cameras and watches. That was usually where the probelms occurred so he found it difficult to believe what had just taken place in front of his own eyes.
Still, his his job was his job whatever rubbish got stolen. He shadowed the youth as he trotted almost jauntily around the store looking, but not taking anything else. Perhaps when he got to the counter he might pay for the item. Nah, not stuffed under his jerkin. No chance. The youth walked straight for the automatic doors complete with the concealed pig.
Glad to engage in a bit of excitement Dennis sprang into action.
'Excuse me sir', he clamped a large hand on the lad's shoulder which gave a spasmodic twitch, obviously implying guilt.
'I hink you know, sir, under your top. Could I see a receipt for that?'
The something slipped beneath the youth's jerkin and hit the floor with a crash transformed into green and yellow shards.
Dennis was torn beneath the feeling that he had failed to protect the store's property and delight at the destruction of an eyesore.
Except that the youth along with the eyesore, disintegrated before his eyes - vanished into thin air.
Dennis shook his head like a punch drunk boxer and swore. Something was not right here. H looked up and down the street. Nothing.
The CCTV was no help either. There was absolutely no footage of the incident. No youth, no pig.
At first the security man was reluctant to speak of the matter, worried he had hallucinated the whole thing but eventually he found the coourage to query an assistant as she was making up a display in the ornament department.
'Erm, you don't have any more of those ornamental pigs, do you? You know, green and yellow , or perhaps in other colours?'
'Oh, those pigs. No, that line's discontinued,' the woman looked at him hesitantly and then in a confidential manner whispered:
'They've got a bit of a sad story to them, you know.'
'Well, a little old lady used to come and buy them regularly. Collecting them I suppose. She almost had the full set except for the green and yellow one which she paid for and sent her grandson to collect.'
Yeah, a young lad. But he never made it. Got himself stabbed in an incident on the way. Terrible really. And the shock eventually killed the grandmother.'
'So, what happened to the pig?'
'Before she died she had the whole collection destroyed. Couldn't bear the thought of them anymore. But somehow the final one to be collected went missing. Nobody ever saw it again. And there's a rumour going round that if anyone does spot it, they're not long for this world. Daft really, but you know what people are like, superstitious.'
Dennis shivered and decided that he would no longer put off the biopsy his GP had recently recommended.