Since the theft of the library's laptop from the "private" upstairs bathroom by presumed bashful bladder-bearing thieves, the "liberry" staff have all become Junior Clubhouse Detectives and extry security conscious.
what we've been able to piece together, the laptop was likely stolen on
Monday afternoon. We have confirmation from Mrs. A's significant other,
Mr. A, who was working in the area and dropped by Monday to use our
facilities, that the laptop was indeed in the restroom when he stopped
in. And as we don't open til 1 on Mondays, the theft would have had to
have occurred between 1 and when we closed at 5 p.m. when Mrs. C noticed
that the restroom door was slightly and atypically ajar.
now narrowed down the list of suspects quite a bit and have our eye on
two particular patrons as the would-be thieves. Until Monday, one of
these two patrons was an almost daily user of our computers. Since
Monday, we've not seen the man at all, nor his friend who occasionally
comes in with him and who WAS with him and WAS upstairs quite a bit on
the day in question. Our theory is that his friend, seeking a quiet and
more private place to have a wee, popped into the upstairs restroom, did
his business and noticed the laptop. From there they might have
smuggled it out in a coat or just hoofed it out the back door.
Course it might not be them at all, but the main suspect does have quite the local history with run-ins with the law.
We've also decided to crack down on whoever has been stealing our magazines. I've already theorized that it's Chester the (Potential) Molester, scoring himself some PG-rated skin-mags in the form of Teen People and Parents, but we've yet to actually prove it.
last Thursday, I decided to pop down to the corner market store and
pick up one of their gargantuan club salads for dinner. (I love them
dearly because the market doesn't skimp on the toppings. It's loaded
down with sliced ham, eggs, bacon, tomatoes and all the things that make
a great club salad. Plus, after 15 minutes of steadily eating it, the
salad will not have gotten noticeably smaller. That's a good salad.) On
my way out the door to get my salad, though, who should I see coming up
the walk but Chester himself. I turned right back around and stayed put
in the library where I could keep an eye on him. After all, there were a
few kids in the library, all watched closely by parents thankfully, but
I wasn't letting Chester out of my sight while kids were about.
made his traditional walk-through, starting in the kids room, where he
did cast a curious glance at one of the pre-teen girls, but he headed on
into the computer hall and down toward the restroom. (I hate to think
what he might do in there, particularly since I'm usually the guy who
has to clean the restroom.)
Mrs. A saw him go through
and told me she was going upstairs to do a quick inventory of the
magazines on the rack so we could see what wasn't there after he went
by. We were hoping to catch him in the act. Unfortunately, Chester only
stopped at the water fountain and managed to get back to the stairs
before Mrs. A could make it to them herself. So she followed him up and
noted that he had a very pregnant pause by the magazine rack before he
noticed that she was watching him. He quickly grabbed a college
financial aid form and headed into the non-fiction room. Mrs. A followed
right behind him and pretended to be sorting the books on the book cart
until Chester had finished with his upstairs walk-through and went back
into the stairwell/magazine area. She popped around the corner just in
time to see him pausing again at the magazine rack, but he saw her and
immediately broke off and went down the stairs where I saw him cast
another quick glance at the little girl in the kid's room, then saw him
see me see him do it after which he made a bee-line for the front door.
"I think you're right. He has been stealing the magazines," Mrs. A told me later.
I thought. I sure hope we don't bust him for magazine theft. That's
like busting Al Capone for tax evasion when you know he's been
bootlegging and worse.
With our new security measures
in place, the upstairs restroom is no longer left unlocked at any given
moment and we have now begun tallying our cashbox at the end of the day.
It seems that it too has come up a bit short as of late and we're
trying to avoid a repeat of previous cashbox adventures, such as the
ones we had with a former Liberry Rogue called the Untalented Mr. Ripley.
TO BE CONTINUED...