We all know that a proven way to protect your valuables from theft, fire and destruction is to put them in a safe. The average random burglar can't pry one open. It will withstand the ravages of fire, and is a stronghold during a hurricane. Once, however, we found a safe that would do more than that: it would make money.
A market was a victim of B&E one night. An alert cop saw flashlight beams moving in the closed and dark store, investigated and rousted three scumbags who fled the scene but were soon captured. Since they were interrupted, the thieves only had time to steal two garbage bags full of cigarettes. Or so it appeared. Detectives were called in to work the scene.
During the flight the culprits had dumped their booty along the way so the weight wouldn't slow them down. We called the owner, who we'll call Tubby, asked him to meet us at the store so he could check his inventory for anything else missing.
In his office was a heavy-duty commercial safe with a sign that read: THIS SAFE IS NOT LOCKED. For fire protection only. Just open the door. Several merchants used their safes just for fire protection and didn't want burglars to beat, bang and ruin them trying to get them open.
We asked Tubby to open his safe and see if anything was missing. He said, "Naw, there's nothin' in there."
"How about checking anyway, just to make sure," I said.
"It's okay," he said, causing me to wonder just what he did have in there he didn't want me to see. Finally, I opened the safe myself. Stacked on the top shelf was a sizable pile of cash. Later, when counted, it turned out to be $17,000. "What's that?" I asked.
"What's, what?" Tubby answered.
"The money," I said.
"What money?" Tubby said.
Sometimes I'm a little slow but it finally came to me. "So any money in that safe's not yours. If there is cash in there, someone else put it there. Maybe the thieves, had a guilty conscience. Maybe the Safe Fairy. But it's definitely not yours."
"Never seen it before," Tubby said. "Maybe it's yours," he said, hopefully. But I didn't go for that. Not that I couldn't have been bought but when a cop takes they own you. And it was gonna take a helluva lot more than 17K. (I will admit it was tempting. At the time, I'd just bought a model home in Brookside for $10,999 and had two mortgages on it. That was a lotta money, then.)
So we sacked up the money, and put it in the evidence locker at the PD.
And why didn't Tubby own up to the cash being his? I remembered he'd recently been in trouble with the IRS for skimming off and not reporting profits. And, he was obviously doing it again.
A few months later the court allowed the City to convert the cash to its own use. Tubby never complained or mentioned it. . .ever. You could presume he saw the error in his ways and went straight.
But I doubt it.
A market was a victim of B&E one night. An alert cop saw flashlight beams moving in the closed and dark store, investigated and rousted three scumbags who fled the scene but were soon captured. Since they were interrupted, the thieves only had time to steal two garbage bags full of cigarettes. Or so it appeared. Detectives were called in to work the scene.
During the flight the culprits had dumped their booty along the way so the weight wouldn't slow them down. We called the owner, who we'll call Tubby, asked him to meet us at the store so he could check his inventory for anything else missing.
In his office was a heavy-duty commercial safe with a sign that read: THIS SAFE IS NOT LOCKED. For fire protection only. Just open the door. Several merchants used their safes just for fire protection and didn't want burglars to beat, bang and ruin them trying to get them open.
We asked Tubby to open his safe and see if anything was missing. He said, "Naw, there's nothin' in there."
"How about checking anyway, just to make sure," I said.
"It's okay," he said, causing me to wonder just what he did have in there he didn't want me to see. Finally, I opened the safe myself. Stacked on the top shelf was a sizable pile of cash. Later, when counted, it turned out to be $17,000. "What's that?" I asked.
"What's, what?" Tubby answered.
"The money," I said.
"What money?" Tubby said.
Sometimes I'm a little slow but it finally came to me. "So any money in that safe's not yours. If there is cash in there, someone else put it there. Maybe the thieves, had a guilty conscience. Maybe the Safe Fairy. But it's definitely not yours."
"Never seen it before," Tubby said. "Maybe it's yours," he said, hopefully. But I didn't go for that. Not that I couldn't have been bought but when a cop takes they own you. And it was gonna take a helluva lot more than 17K. (I will admit it was tempting. At the time, I'd just bought a model home in Brookside for $10,999 and had two mortgages on it. That was a lotta money, then.)
So we sacked up the money, and put it in the evidence locker at the PD.
And why didn't Tubby own up to the cash being his? I remembered he'd recently been in trouble with the IRS for skimming off and not reporting profits. And, he was obviously doing it again.
A few months later the court allowed the City to convert the cash to its own use. Tubby never complained or mentioned it. . .ever. You could presume he saw the error in his ways and went straight.
But I doubt it.
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