I was in the kitchen at the time. It was by the purest chance that I was standing where I couldn't be seen from outside even if whoever was there was specifically looking for someone. Having failed to see me a hand reached through a slit in the fly wire screen (a slit that should not have been there) and took a mug that was on the counter.
At least, that was the apparent intention of the thief. What actually happened was that I took hold of the person's wrist and held it very firmly. I then stretched over to the junk drawer where I was quite sure I'd find a ball of string, extracted the string and proceeded to tie it around the wrist and then onto the tap.
"Don't go away," I called out the window, and moved smartly out the back door and around to the side of the house where I found a young lady trying to get free from the string.
"Let me help you with that, Jenny," I said, reaching over and tugging on the knot, letting it pop open. Fancy knots are easy to undo if you know how. Jenny didn't.
"Why don't you step inside so we can have a chat?" I suggested.
"I don't think so," she said, starting to back away.
"If that's how you feel," I said with a shrug. "It doesn't really matter. I know who you are and I can identify you to the police."
"The police? You've got to be joking. They're not going to come out just because I tried to borrow a mug. I didn't even get it."
I just gave her a happy smile. As a bit of background, the neighbourhood had been plagued for the past few weeks with a petty thief. Very petty. Some minor item you think you should have suddenly turns up missing. Things like a favourite mug. It took a bit of gossip and whining before it dawned on us that we had a sneak thief in our midst. Now I knew who.
"If you paid attention to what people have been doing then you'd know that we've been trying to stir the police into action over these thefts. Anyone who had something go missing has been trotting over to the cop shop and making a formal complaint. The police are starting to hate the sight of us. So, shall we have a little chat?"
I indicated that she should precede me into the kitchen and she went, stamping her feet angrily.
"Well?" she demanded as soon as we were inside.
"You've been a damn nuisance," I told her. "I've half a mind to just toss you to the police and let them worry about you. Still, I don't really want to see you in the slammer for such minor offences."
"You've got to be kidding. The most I'd get would be a fine. Probably not even that. Just a stern lecture from the judge."
"It might be a bit more than that. With evidence you did one of the crimes the police would naturally charge you with all the thefts. They add up, you know. And then there's the victim impact statements."
"You're kidding. What victim impact?"
"Do you remember lifting a small wooden picture frame? From me?"
I could see that she did, so I continued.
"I know the frame didn't have a picture but it had great sentimental value to me. My brother made that with his own two hands before he died."
"Wasn't much of a carpenter," she muttered, but I heard it anyway.
"True," I said cheerfully. "He's a lot better now."
Jenny looked a trifle confused. "You just said he made it before he died," she protested.
"He did. It's a bit hard to make something after you die, except fertilizer. The point is, it was a source of great embarrassment to him. He wanted to replace it and I wouldn't let him. And now it's gone."
"You made me think he was dead," she accused.
"Oh. Did I? Didn't mean to. That's all beside the point. We need to decide whether to toss you over to the cops, which means everyone in the neighbourhood will know you're the thief, or deal with you myself."
