101 Mystery Stories

76 The Booster Percy Spurlark Parker

I slipped the evening gloves in my purse as the sales clerk turned to get a few other pairs off the shelf. She laid them on the counter with the others she had already laid out.

“How are these, Miss?” she asked, her voice a little tired.

I frowned and picked though the gloves. “No, I’m afraid not. Thanks anyway.”

I walked away, smiling to myself. I had kept her occupied for a good fifteen minutes, had made her totally confused about what she was doing, and had gotten away with a twenty-dollar pair of gloves.

There were eight floors in the department store, and so far I’d made a score on the first five. Thank heaven for large shoulder bags. I’d actually gotten a four-slice toaster into mine once, but it didn’t leave room for much else.

It was Saturday and the store was pretty full — not so packed that you bumped into someone every two minutes, but full enough to lose yourself in the crowd. It was the ideal condition for a “booster” — or shoplifter in plain language — as long as you kept an eye on the security personnel. The store had both uniformed and plainclothes security people. Sometimes, like the guy standing at the elevators with his hands behind his back, the plain-clothesmen are more obvious than those in uniform.

“Oh, Miss.”

I turned, expecting to see the sales clerk with a security guard, but instead a white-haired gentleman was smiling at me.

“Yes?”

He stepped closer, speaking in a low tone. “That was really a very clumsy effort back there.”

Maybe he was from store security and I’d been caught after all.

“Look—” I started.

“Don’t raise your voice. You don’t want to make a scene.”

“What do you want?”

“To help,” he said. “You’re a pretty girl, but that’s not going to do you any good behind bars. And believe me, young woman, the way you’re going at it jail’s the only thing ahead for you. Look at yourself — jeans, a fatigue jacket. And that shoulder bag’s a dead givaway. That clerk would have had you back there if she hadn’t been totally blind.”

“Look, do you work security for this store or what?”

The smile broadened across his smooth face. “Not hardly, my dear.”

“Then bug off.”

He held up a hand, still smiling. “I said I wanted to help you, I know what I’m doing — now just watch me.”

He looked around, and headed for the cosmetic department. There were several displays of cologne and perfume standing free of the cosmetic counters. He mixed with the customers and made a pass by one of the displays. If he hadn’t told me to watch him I wouldn’t have caught it. It was one of the most fluid moves I’ve ever seen. When he started back toward me he had pocketed two bottles of cologne.

“Now do you believe I know what I’m talking about? I was making a living at this long before you got out of diapers. I usually don’t display my talents this way, but you are a lovely girl and I’m curious to see what you look like in a proper dress. Would you join me for dinner tonight? I can teach you a great deal.”

I pulled out my I.D., which stated that I was an operative for the Elton Detective Agency. I specialize in running security checks on retail operations, identifying the weak spots and confirming those that are strong. But I’d never had a booster hand himself over to me before. This was going to be good for at least a couple of days off, with pay.