The Stolen Jewels

I

            It was early on a Thursday morning when Edith Lime, 57, and local librarian, sat down to read the paper that had just been delivered to her doorstep. She eyed the front page with interest. For, written there in large letters, were the words, “Jewels Stolen From Museum.” How interesting, she thought, how out of place.

            “Nothing like that ever happens in Opal Bay,” she said to herself as she skimmed the article. It was quite a shock to everyone involved. The local museum, the Opal Museum of History, had been displaying several large and precious jewels that belonged to a monarchy of old. “Had been,” being the key words. Sometime late on Wednesday evening, the jewels had been heisted. There didn’t seem to be much in the way of evidence, either. After several minutes of scanning the page, Edith glanced down at her watch.

            “Oh, my, I’ll be late for work at this rate,” she said. She folded the newspaper and put it face up, so the large letters were still visible upon the table.

            “My goodness, my goodness indeed.” Her thoughts were full of the bold jewelry heist, it had been a long time since anything had made waves in the local community. It had been just about ten years since the fire broke out at the Mill. That was the last time a major sensation had occurred in Opal Bay.

            The cool spring breeze flew through her hair as she sped toward the Opal Bay Public Library on her new red bike. She had decided that, since she was getting older, she would do as much to keep her physically active as possible. And the library was not so far, anyway, and all that fresh spring air wouldn’t hurt, either.

            She strolled into the front doors of the public library and was greeted by the familiar faces of the regular patrons who had been coming to the library for years. It was a kind of bond that one built while working with the public. A friendly smile here, a wave there. It was another wonderful day in Opal Bay and the public was hungry for more knowledge, adventure, and the type of satisfaction that only a book can bring you.

            “Morning, Ms. Lime.” Said a bright faced young man, flipping through a large red book.

            “Good morning, Percy,” she said as she snuck into the back. She hung her bag up and adjusted her yellow sweater, which had ridden up slightly on her bike journey. She came back out to the square desk and observed all that was before her.

            “Ready for another day, Edith?” Came a voice form behind her. She turned and was greeted by her boss, Mr. Leonard Pen.

            “It’s always a lovely time to be here in spring, Mr. Pen.” Edith said with a smile. Then she let out a little laugh, for she had not meant to imply that other times were not as good to be at the library.

            “Yes. Quite right,” said Mr. Pen, smoothing his black mustache.

            Just then, the doors opened and in strolled a handsome man in his 30s. His long brown hair flowing behind him. He carried a briefcase and wore a suit.

            “Lance!” Cried Edith, who ran around the corner to greet her son.

            “Mother,” he said, returning the hug.

            “I didn’t know that you were coming by today. You should have told me.” Edith replied.

            Oh, I though a surprise would be nice.” Lance said with a smile.

            “Oh Lance, I just remembered the article I read this morning—”

            “Yes, it’s awful, the museum is in an uproar, we haven’t ever seen anything like this before.” Lance Lime had held down a steady job at the museum for several years now, and as one of the curators, he was close to the jewels when they went missing.

            “It’s such a terrible thing. Have any leads?” Edith asked. Lance shook his head.

            “Nothing yet, I’m afraid.” His face grew grim. “We’re all under suspicion of course. Even me. Barbara, too.”

            “Oh, you poor souls. First the two of you dissolve the engagement, and now you’re under suspicion of major theft.”

            “Yes, it’s awful.” Lance said with a sigh. “We’ve all been ordered not to leave town by the police. There’s a real bulldog of a detective working the case. Jack Woods.”

            “Oh, Jack, yes,” replied Edith. Jack, being a public figure in Opal Bay, was known quite well to those who read the newspaper. His name had been attached to the fire at the Mill, as well, and he had tracked down the arsonist who had started the fire. Whenever anything needed done in Opal Bay, they got Jack Woods to do it.

            “Well, he’s treating us all like we’re guilty, I can’t say I care much for the man,” concluded Lance with a frown.

            “Ah, come, let’s forget about that for a while. What can I do for you, Lance?” Asked his mother.

            “Why, I came to see if you’d like to do lunch later today. With the library and the museum being so close together, I’m not sure why we don’t do it more often.” Edith raised a hand in protest.

            “Now, now, Lance, I understand when a man is grown, he’s busy.”

            “Still, since dad passed, I can’t help but feel—” Lance trailed off as Edith squeezed his arm.

            “I understand, son. Let’s do that little Mexican place on Fifth street, shall we?” She asked with a faint smile.

            “I would like that. Let’s meet at one?” Lance asked. Edith nodded and gave her son another hug. He turned and exited through the double doors.

            “I wish he wouldn’t worry so much. It’s been a year since Paul passed.” Edith said to Mr. Pen. “Lance has got to live his own life. I’ve got my books and my bike and who knows what else I’ll find to keep myself busy.” Edith shook her head sadly.

            “Yes well,” began Mr. Pen, straightening his tie, “come now, we have the public to attend to.”

            “I suppose they would be lost without us,” she replied with a grin. And with that, another normal day was set in motion for Edith Lime.

II

            The sharp ringing of the telephone awakened Edith in the middle of the night. Or, as she would find out as she rolled over and looked at the alarm clock on her nightstand, early in the morning. As she made out the time, the phone rang once more.

            “It’s two o’clock in the morning,” she said angrily as she fumbled for the phone. She cleared her throat.

            “Hello? Who is this?”

            “Mom!” Cried the voice on the other end.

            “Lance?” She asked, sitting up in panic. “What’s wrong?”

            “They arrested me.” Lance replied, desperation ringing in his voice.           

            “Arrested you?” Edith echoed. “Arrested you for what?” She asked, dangling her feet over the edge of her bed, probing for her slippers.

            “They found the stolen jewels on me!” Lance exclaimed.

            “Wait a minute YOU stole those jewels?” Edith asked. There was a moment of silence and she heard Lance swallow on the other end.

            “Of course I didn’t but they found the jewels in my briefcase.” His voice was shaking now. “They’re going to lock me up!”

            “Well, if you didn’t do it, we have to find out who did and get you out of there.” Edith replied.

            “I don’t know how we can do that, mom. I’m scared.” Lance admitted. Edith coiled the phone cord around her finger and thought for a moment.

            “Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to get you out of this. I know you didn’t steal those jewels, you’re my son. We’ll clear your name.”

            “But how?” Lance asked. Edith thought for a moment. Truthfully, she did not have an answer for this question.

            “You just trust your old mom,” she began, “I won’t let them put you away.” On the other end, she heard someone yell that time was up.

            “I have to go, please, do anything you can.” Lance said.

            “Of course, I will.” She said, concealing the wavering tone in her voice. The phone on the other line hung up and Edith sat there a moment listening to the dial tone. Finally, she lowered the phone and placed it back on the hook.

            She returned to her prone position but could not sleep. The thought of her son, alone and afraid, flittered across her mind. She could not get this image out from behind her eyes. So, at a little after two-thirty in the morning, Edith Lime sat up, put on her reading glasses, and studied the newspaper for any clues she might find.

III

            Several hours later, around six o’clock, Edith awoke once more. She had fallen asleep in her chair, scanning over the newspaper. She shook her head and let out a little curse under her breath. How could she have fallen asleep at a moment like this? She didn’t know how much time Lance had before things got really serious, but she didn’t imagine it was much.

            “Curse these old bones, falling asleep like that,” she said as she folded the newspaper up and set it back on the table by the chair. She stood up and began to pace, her hands behind her back. How could she prove Lance’s innocence? How could she even begin to prove that she knew? That her son was no jewel thief. Why, Lance had never committed to as much as littering in his whole life.

            “This whole thing is ridiculous, why—” she glanced down at the paper once more. Lance had been carrying his briefcase with him when he went to visit her at the library the day before, hadn’t he? She thought hard, closing her eyes to imagine the scene from their last encounter. It was a normal brown leather briefcase; she was sure of that. But something seemed…off.

            “What was it, though?” She asked herself, tapping a hand against her chin. She had bought him that briefcase and it had it specially monogramed with his initials. “LL.” She thought for a moment. “But, as I recall, there were no letters on the briefcase.” She could only recall this now that she really concentrated.

            Edith had always been observant; it was a gift she had long possessed.

            “Perhaps he had just switched briefcases,” she said with a grimace. But Lance always carried the same briefcase. It didn’t make any sense.

            Quickly she put on her shoes and slid on her coat and headed out the door for the museum.

            Once there, she approached the woman at the front desk.

            “Hello, young lady,” she said with a friendly smile. “I’d like to speak to Paul Worthington.” She leaned in on the counter and watched the young woman study the clipboard on her desk.

            “Oh, Paul, he’s just finishing up on a phone call. As head of security, he’s in a bit of a bind with those jewels being stolen. And how he managed to miss Lance stealing them, well, he really has some answering to do.”

            “Er, yes, I’m sure he does, but tell him Edith Lime wants to talk to him.” The young woman before her, who’s eyes widened upon realizing that Edith was Lance’s mother.

            “Oh, Ms. Lime, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know who you were—”

            “Julie, I can’t take it anymore.” A small, balding man approached the desk and buried his face in his hands.

            “Paul, I’m sorry. Oh, um, Ms. Lime is here to see you.” Paul looked up from his moment of total despair and his face cleared up.

            “Ms. Lime! What are you doing here?” He asked. Paul had proven to be a good friend to Lance, and thus, Ms. Lime had come to meet him several times.

            “I’m here for a little, er, help, dear.”

            “You and everyone else around here. Everyone wants a piece of me today. Everyone wants answers!” Paul shook his fist in the air at his invisible enemy.

            “Well, I need you and so does Lance. Take me back to the security cameras if you would.” Paul thought for a moment and then shrugged.

            “I guess it won’t do any harm to let a little old lady see. Everyone else has already had a look at them.” He waved a finger at her to follow him. The pair went back behind the desk and through a set of double doors.

            “This is where security watches over everything.” Paul said, indicating the screens before him. Edith adjusted her glasses and looked from monitor to monitor.

            “Which one of these cameras focuses on the exhibit that held the jewels?” She asked. Paul pointed to a screen on the far left.

            “Right here.” He tapped the screen and let out a sigh. “But the police have already looked at—”

            “Ah, right there!” Edith pointed toward the screen. Paul zoomed in a bit, squinting as he did so.  

            “I don’t get it, a briefcase?” He asked.

            “If you look closely, you can see the ‘LL’ on the briefcase, that’s Lance’s briefcase. Fast forward a bit.” Edith demanded. Paul pressed a button at her command. Suddenly, Edith threw her hand in the air, signaling him to stop. On screen, there stood a man in a hat and long beige trench coat. Grey slacks. White sneakers with what looked like blue laces. His face was impossible to see, though. The man looked around from side to side, then, bending over slightly, placed an identical briefcase down on the ground and picked up the one belonging to Lance.

            “Aha! That’s it.”

            “What’s it?” asked Paul, still squinting.

            “The man in the hat,” she said, pointing toward the screen, “we’ve got to find the man in the hat.”

IV

            Detective Woods raised an eyebrow as Edith finished explaining about the man she had seen on camera.

            “That’s, er, not very much to go on, Ms. Lime,” he said finally. “My men have combed over that tape and haven’t found a thing about the man in the hat that you’re looking for.”

            “Well, however he is, he must be rather slick, then. But my question is, why frame Lance?”

            “Well, if he did indeed frame your son, he would be an easy target. He worked so closely with the jewels,” concluded Woods.

            “Indeed, he would be,” began Edith, “I believe you’re starting to come around to my point of view,” she said with a smile.”

            “Not just yet, I’m afraid,” admitted Woods. “I’ll need more evidence before I come around to any sort of conclusion.”

            “Then I’ll just have to get you some evidence.” Edith said, shaking her head. Edith shuffled off away from the detective and thought hard about what she had seen on tape. If she could find the man in the hat, or even the briefcase, perhaps, then she would be able to have some sort of proof that Lance was innocent. Where had the man on the tape gone, she wondered. Where had he disappeared to?

            As she pondered these thoughts and more, she passed the small coat check room and stopped dead in her tracks.

            There, hanging above a nice brown sports jacket, was a white hat. The hat she had seen on tape, she was sure of it! And, in the same room, was that, yes, she was sure of it, it was the same trench coat the man had been wearing.

            “Aha,” she muttered to herself, “so you’re still here.” She gingerly approached the hat and took it off the hook, looking inside for any markers of identification. There, hanging loosely, was a fiery red hair.

            “What does this mean?” She wondered aloud. “I must be looking for a red head,” she concluded.

            “I’m afraid you have my hat there,” came a voice from behind her. “And I’d rather like it back.”

V

            Edith spun around slowly to see the face that owned the voice which had crept up on her. Standing there was a man with flaming red hair and a mustache to match.

            “You’ll have to beg my pardon,” began Edith, “it’s just, er, I was thinking about getting my son this sort of hat. I had to admire it.” She began to blush, and the man cleared his throat.

            “Er, yes, well, if you please.” The man stuck out his hand and Edith surrendered the hat.

            “My apologies, Mr…”

            Gregory,” said the man, tucking the hat down on his head.

            “Edith. Edith Lime.” Edith said, bowling slightly.

            “Ah. Lance’s mother. Nasty business, that,” said Mr. Gregory. “I would never have pegged him for the kind. Er, you’ll have to forgive me, I don’t mean anything by it,” he said, red spreading across his face. Edith looked down, and her eyes opened wide. There was a small, brown suitcase with two ‘L’s’ embroidered on the side.

            “This, er, this wouldn’t happen to be yours, too, would it?” She asked. Mr. Gregory looked down at the case and shrugged.

            “Hm. Can’t say I’ve ever seen it before, I ‘m not much of a brief case man myself.” He straightened his tie and bowed his head. “Anyway, good day to you and I do hope things get better for Lance.” And with this, Mr. Gregory walked away.

            “Peculiar. Most peculiar,” said Edith. She knelt and opened her son’s briefcase. There was nothing out of the ordinary here, she concluded. But whoever had put the briefcase here, be it Mr. Gregory or someone else, they hadn’t counted on Edith Lime snooping around.

            “I must take this to Detective Woods,” she said, standing up and picking the briefcase up off the ground.

            When she exited the coat check, she took a turn and headed for the payphone to call Detective Woods at once. She picked up the receiver but, just as she began to hit the numbers to reach the detective, a hand crept up behind her and snatched the phone from her grasp. Edith spun around and was face to face with a young woman.

            A young woman she knew.

            “Barbara.” She gasped.

VI

            “Ms. Lime.” Barbara replied.

            “I…I haven’t seen you since Lance ended things.” Edith said.

            “Yes, I wanted to keep it that way. But things have escalated in such a way that necessitates my being here.”

            “And what do you mean by that?” Edith asked.

            “Your son is in trouble. And, though he broke my heart, I hate to see him pinned for something he didn’t do.”

            “And how do you know he’s innocent?” Asked Edith.

            “We both know Lance would never steal those jewels. He’s a respected man around here, and he’d never commit a crime of this risk for anything. He’s not stupid or reckless. He’s not to blame here. But I suspect someone in this museum is.”

            “Someone with fiery red hair?” Edith chimed in.

            “Well, there’s only a few people that fit that profile. But Tom Gregory—”

            “Yes, we just met.” Edith interrupted. “You think he’s the one?”

            “He’s been gunning for Lance’s job for months. This is the perfect plan to get him out of the way,” Barbara said.

            “We must go to Detective Woods at once with this.” Edith said. She motioned for Barbara to follow her.

            “The two stood at the front desk of the Museum as Detective Woods entered.

            “I came as soon as you rang,” said Woods. “What’s this all about?”

            “It’s about Tom Gregory—” began Barbara.

            “I’m afraid not,” Edith cut in. “It’s about you, Barbara.” Barbara’s face dropped in shock.

            “What—what do you mean?” She stammered.

            “Yes, just what are you talking about, Ms. Lime?” Woods cut in, frowning.

            “You see, the man on the tape I’ve been looking for was wearing a coat and a hat, thus expertly hiding the fact that he was no man at all, but in fact, a woman.”

            “How can you be so sure?” Asked woods.

            “It’s the shoes.” Edith said, pointing down at Barbara’s feet. Woods looked down at the white sneakers that Barbara was wearing. White sneakers with blue laces. Barbara scowled.

            “Don’t be ridiculous, these shoes are common,” she said.

            “You see, on the tape, I thought the shoes were a little out of place. Sneakers when the rest of the man was so dressed up. But then I saw the coat and hat in the coatrack. And when I looked down after you grabbed the phone, I know those are the same shoes. You forgot to change them, dear.” Barbara started, but Edith cut her off.

            “See, the way I figure it, you stole the coat and hat from the check room, took the jewels, and switched briefcases with Lance. Is that about right?”

            “This is ridiculous. I—”

            “I know Lance broke your heart when he ended your engagement,” Edith began, “but to try and put him away like this. Why, it’s preposterous.”

            “I did no such thing!” Cried Barbara.

            “Woods, I believe if you test both briefcases, you’ll find her prints all over them.”

            “I can’t believe this. What are you some detective now?” Asked Barbara. She turned to walk away.

            “Not so fast,” interjected Detective Woods, “I’d like to take you in for some questioning. Just to be thorough.” Barbara stomped her foot in anger.

            “I can’t believe you’ll take the word of this…this spinster,” she yelled.

            “it’s just a few simple questions,” said Detective Woods, gesturing the young woman to follow him out the door.

VII

            “Mom,” said Lance as he sat at Edith’s table the next morning, “I can’t believe you got me out of that bind. What an incredible job.”

            “Well, you know, I’ve read a lot of mystery books in my time.” Edith chuckled.

            “Still, I’m lucky to have you around.” Edith shook her head as she poured a cup of tea for her son.

            “I can’t believe she would frame you for such a thing,” said Edith.

            “Well, me neither, I never knew she had it in her.” Lance took a sip form his cup and smiled.

            “The important thing is that the jewels are back and I’m out of that cell!” He took a pause and smiled at his mother.

            “You know, you could make something of yourself as an amateur detective.”

            “Oh, me?” Edith asked with a smile, “I like the library and the small-town life too much.”

            “Mom, if there’s one thing I know about you,” Lance said with a grin, “now that you’re on your own, you’ll need something to do and—” The phone rang.

            “Hello?” Edith asked, picking it up. “Why, Detective Woods, yes, I’m free at the moment.” Her eyes widened and she nodded her head. “Why, yes, I’ll be right there, let me just grab a few of my things.”

            Edith threw on her cardigan.

            “I hate to run, Lance, but there’s been another crime and they need my help!” She cried as she ran out the door and mounted her bike. Lance smiled as he watched his mother leave.

            “Well, ladies and gentlemen,” began Lance as he finished his tea, “watch as Edith Lime solves a crime.”