[1] Kenny Merchant- that wasn’t his real name, but then, little was real about Kenny. He had…

[1] Kenny Merchant- that wasn’t his real name, but then, little was real about Kenny. He had selected Harrods on a quiet Monday morning as the venue for the first part of his operation. [2] He was dressed in a pinstriped suit, white shirt and a Guards tie. The door was held open for him by a commissionaire who on spotting the tie immediately saluted him. The same commissionaire had not saluted him on any of his several visits during the previous week, but to be fair, he had been dressed then in a shiny, well-worn suit and open-necked shirt. But last week had only been for reconnaissance; today he planned to be arrested. Although Harrods has over a hundred thousand customers a week, the quietest period is always between ten and eleven on a Monday morning. Kenny knew every detail about the great store. [3] He knew where all the CCTV cameras were placed, and could recognise any of the security guards at thirty paces. He even knew the name of the assistant who would be serving him that morning, although Mr Parker had no idea that he had been selected as a tiny cog in Kenny’s well-oiled machine. [4] When Kenny appeared at the jewellery department that morning, Mr Parker was briefing a young assistant on the changes he required to the shelf display. “Good morning, sir,” said Mr Parker, turning to face his first customer of the day. “How can I help you?” “I was looking for a pair of silver cufflinks,” Kenny said, in the clipped tones he hoped made him sound like a Guards officer. Mr Parker proceeded to place on the counter a box of silver cufflinks. Kenny already knew the pair he wanted, as he had picked them out the previous Saturday afternoon. “What about those?” he asked, pointing to the top shelf. [5] As the shop assistant turned away, Kenny checked the TV surveillance camera and took a pace to the right, to be sure that they could see him more clearly. Mr Parker reached up to remove the cufflinks and Kenny slid the chosen pair off the counter and slipped them into his jacket pocket. He saw a security guard moving swiftly towards him. He asked him to accompany him. “I have never been so insulted in my life,” said Kenny. [6] About half an hour later the police arrived and Kenny was driven to the Horseferry Road Magistrates’ Court. The charge was read out and he pleaded guilty. “Is there anything else you would like me to take into consideration before I pass a sentence?” Asked the magistrate. “Yes, sir,” said Kenny. “I stole a watch from Selfridges last week. I would like to return it.” The judge nodded and looking at the defendant’s address ordered that a constable should accompany Mr Merchant home to retrieve the stolen merchandise. “Oh, my God,” said the young constable as he opened the door to Kenny’s apartment. The place was full of expensive jewellery, paintings, objects d’art and antique furniture. [7] “What is your game, laddie? I don’t believe any of it belongs to you.” Asked Chief Inspector Travis after he had been called by the constable. “Then you will have to prove it, because if you fail to do so, the law assumes that it belongs to me. The only thing I admit stealing, and am returning, is one watch. Timex Masterpiece, value forty-four pounds, stolen from Selfridges and that being the case, I will be able to dispose of it as I wish,” replied Kenny. [8] Kenny was in the dock and charged with the theft of goods to the value of twenty-four thousand pounds. The police made an inventory of everything and spent the next six months trying to trace the owners of the treasure trove. But despite advertising in all the recognised journals and even showing the goods on Crimewatch over 80 percent of the items remained unclaimed. Kenny pleaded guilty to the indictment, aware that when the police gave evidence, they would be unable to mention any of the goods that had remained unclaimed. In fact, the police had to return the property that they were unable to prove had been stolen. Adapted from: Crime Pays By Jeffrey Archer