He was not a happy thief. Sitting alone in his cell he thought once more about how the police had caught him and he decided that he was probably one of the most unfortunate convicts in the history of crime. He also knew that he would not have much else to think about for several years to come.
His feelings had been very different,
he remembered, as he walked confidently along the road towards his house, the heavy sack over his shoulder almost overflowing with cash. The police, he was sure,
would be miles away, looking for a clown in a car on the other side of the town.
He’d planned the robbery down to the finest detail, observing the staff and their routine over several weeks and making sure that his raid would coincide with the busiest payout of the week. He’d even gone to another town to steal the car he would use, changing the numberplates and keeping it locked up in the garage until the big day arrived. With so many young car thieves around these days,
he reflected sadly, nobody’s car was safe.
The hold-up itself had run like clockwork. His imitation pistol and large, scary-looking dog quickly made everyone co-operate, and a rather sinister clown mask meant there was no chance of him being recognized from the closed-circuit television security video. The bag he had brought was soon filled up and, pausing only to give the
cameras a final ironic wave, he made a quick exit.
Leaving nothing to chance, he’d taken off his disguise in the getaway car. He then left the stolen vehicle deep in an underground car park before catching the bus home dressed like a busy postman carrying a mountainous mailbag. So far so good.
It was only when he got indoors with the brimming sackful of cash that he realized he’d left something behind: his faithful hound. Still, with all the money he now had, he could easily afford to buy a new dog, and a pedigree one at that.
Then,
suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door. Snatching up his sack, the startled robber made a dash for the back door, only to run straight into an extremely large police sergeant, who grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and unceremoniously marched him back inside.
The crook couldn’t believe it. ‘How on earth did you find me so quickly?’ he asked miserably. ‘It was the Sergeant over there,’ replied the Inspector. ‘He’s the one who noticed that you’d left your dog tied up outside.’ The thief looked astonished. ‘But he hasn’t
got a name tag, or even a collar for that matter…’ ‘It’s simple really,’ said the Inspector, ‘the Sergeant just shouted “Home, boy!” and here we are.’