SHOPLIFTERS' RUSES
SOW THEY CD IT I!! LOUDON
[By Ev.vdnk Price, in tho ‘ Sunday
Chronicle.’]
Quite recently, when a mother and two daughters were accused of shoplifting, the Bench came to tho conclusion that the girls were pupils ol thenmother. The police inspector gave evidence that the latter entered a shop and was engaged with an assistant when the two girls walked in. “ Serve these two young ladies first,” she said, pretending not to know them, and whilst attention was thus diverted appropriated four silk jumpers and walked out. Meanwhile the younger girl made a small purchase and went into anotnei department for change. During her absence the elder girl put a large number of articles into her bag, which she handed to her sister, and they had rejoined their mother before all three were apprehended. ■ Now, although this raised a tremendous amount of interest locally, causino- the exclamations; ‘‘Well, I never did!” and “Did you ever now? to work overtime, I have been more than once informed that it is far from uucommon to discover whole families vho regard shop-lifting as a perfectly legitimate means of augmenting their small incomes, as well as a pleasantly exciting relaxation from the daily routine. The moral aspect seems to escape them entirely; in fact, it is considered something of an achievement socially to do it across some_ unsuspecting emporium without being nabbed redhanded. “ LIVE AND LET LIVE.”
This, I confess, I never believed until the other morning, when, with my own eyes, I watched a lady surreptitiously and with marvellous slickncss appropriate two grey enamelled saucepans (with lids) from the counter of a sixpenny bazaar while her son, aged about twelve, deliberately engaged the salesgirl in bright conversation on the other side. Mother was fingering something choice and novel in hardboiled egg slicers when she caught my curious and incredulous glanco. It would have been an illuminating experience to have followed her round the bazaar and watched her replenishing her little home free of charge, but the bird had taken fright. “ Orris, come ’ere,” she called sharply. Orris obeyed. “ Wotcha got?” he queried in a hoarse whisper. ” Ony a coupla measly pots,” replied his fond mamma in a disgusted undertone. “Nosey Parker there(meaning me), “she’s eyein’ me. We’d hotter ’op it.” “Ger,” growled the precocious Orris. “ Soma these ’ere people ’ave no idea er live an’ let live.” No, I did not inform the manager. I should have, 1 know. Apparently “ Muvver’s compliments, Mrs Brown, an’ will yer come shopliftin’ wiv ’cr this afternoon, as she needs a noo blouse,” is not as farfetched as one might bo led to believe. Wherever there are shops there are shop-lifters, it would seem. Obviously tho demands of the habitual pinebor vary with his or her district. For instance, what would send E. 21 into ecstasies would not raise a thank you from W.l, Whereas a tin of preserved pineapple or a few oranges _aro considered a fair morning’s work in the Walworth road, in Bond street anything less that a jewelled tiara or a pearl necklace is regarded as hardly worth the effort of donning the fur coat with the false pockets. Naturally methods differ. _ “Fine noo pertaters! Fine cabby, veils the vegetable king nt the top or his fino lungs. . “’Ow much is yer taters?” inquires the plump lady with the largo straw carrier (not a string bag, you will note). _ “ Tnppince-’apenny, ma. “ Gimme a pahnd,” orders ma.. The potato merchant turns his back for a brief moment, and with a deft movement born of years of practice the lady transfers a couple of cabbages and a few early lettuces to her shopping bag. ... ■ T “ Nar then,” she cries, aggressively, “ look slippy, young feller. Think I’ve coma ’ere to watch yer lovely dial all diy, or wot?” . ‘‘Keep cool, ma,’ is the good-hum-ored reply, as tho unsuspecting vendor shoots the potatoes on top of his stolon property, and, flushed with success, ma saunters on to the next stall, nonchalantly humming the Walworth road equivalent to the waltz from ‘Dor Rosenkavalier,’ to try her luck again. She finds herself deciding not to honor any stall that docs not stock the very finest English in future. The best is good enough for her every time. THE MAYFAIR WAY. In Maiyfair it is slightly different. Enter elegantly-dressed, innocent, bineeyed young Lady into exclusive jeweller’s shop. The courteous salesman approaches her respectfully and admiringly. “ Slay I see some diamond rings?” she murmurs in languid tones, witti a modest flick of an upward eyelash. . “ Certainly, madam,’’ is tho reply. “Will my car bo quite safe there?” she lisps, prettily-
Tho assistant glances through tho glass doorway, where an expensive twoseater is standing. At this iresh evidence of wealth lie becomes more impressed than ever. Tray after tray ol diamond rings is placed before her, but she is not satisfied. She finally departs, promising to call _ again, and whizzes off in her car. A few moments or a low days later they discover that sho has, under the very nose_ of tho man who has served her, substituted a clever dud for one of his finest stones. Too late, alas! Blue eyes and golden hair and 'an expensive automobile do not always moan innocence in this cold, cruel world of ours, unfortunately. It is astonishing how many aro employed by the big West End shops to protect their property from that section of the community that usually ends up within four unsympathetic walls, but the tricks of tho shoplifter grow more ingenious every day, and it is almost an impossibility for the ordinary imagination to cope with every now stunt employed. Only a few days ago during the heat wave a stout, red-faced woman suddenly collapsed in the bargain basement of a largo department store. The place was singularly uncrowded at tiic time—due probably to tho unexpected sunshine—and the sympathetic shopwalker and three or four assistants left their posts, carried the unconscious patient to the lift, and tenderly escorted her to the room provided for these emergencies, where she recovered in about ten minutes under the skilful ministrations of the nurse in charge. With tears in her eyes she protested her undying gratitude for all they had dono for her, but it was not until sonic little time later that the employees discovered how much she had done them for. While their attention bad been distracted by her sufferings an accomplice had ransacked a bargain counter at her leisure, and several dozens of tho finest silk stockings had disappeared for ever. Not lost, but gone before. It will be a long time before a fainting female receives any sympathy in that particular emporium. “ J, left a small parcel on this counter, miss,” complains a customer. “Do you think it has fallen behind?” The obliging lady assistant searches diligently. “It isn’t here, madam,” she announces. “Try tho lost property. . . .” The inquirer departs, richer by three or four boxes of powder that have mirnculosuly transferred themselves to her capacious sleeve while the girl was not looking. “ Will you servo me or not?” demands a loud-voiced, impatient customer of the harassed, inexperienced “ temporary,” taken on for tho sale rush. “ I’ve been waiting over half an hour. Wrap up this hat.” The bill is made out, and tho customer departs angrily, after threatening to report the inattention. Tho trembling “temp.” need not worry, however, about losing her job. That particular “ moddam ” would as soon summon the king of the nether regions as the management. She exits hurriedly, having killed two birds with one stone—cleverly altered the ticket on the purchased hat for one half the price, and leaving her battered old chapeau in place of a second new one she brazenly walks away in. If accosted by a detective she tan always plead absence of mind or kleptomania, and show the receipted bill for her bona fide purchase. A RAY OF SUNSHINE.
It is easy to detect the casual assistant. Unfamiliar with her department, she is an easy mark for the astute thief. After all, it. takes a bit of doing to attend to half a dozen exacting women bitten with the bargain bug, write out bills and addresses, make journeys to cash desks, summon the elusive “ Sign ” every few minutes, and keep a close watch for clever and experienced shoplifters.
Therefore, when we happen to be shadowed by lurking shop detectives from the moment we enter a largo department store, especially if we carry a muff or an outsize in handbags, we must try to bear it philosophically. It is hardly to be wondered at, with shoplifting on the increase every year, Apparently the only place where the assistants can breathe freely is a piano factory. But (as the lady indicted at the Old Bailey for appropriating several yards of crepe de chine said'to the prosecuting barrister) “ what would happen to the likes of you if if wasn’t for the likes of us?”
There is always a. ray of sunshine if one looks for it.
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Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 19020, 15 August 1925, Page 2
Word Count
1,503SHOPLIFTERS' RUSES Evening Star, Issue 19020, 15 August 1925, Page 2
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