The Silver Snuff Box

Robert's eyes locked onto the small silver snuff box. His pulse quickened as he imagined feeling its rectangular shape in his hand, his fingertips caressing the engraved, patterned lid, depicting a hunting scene within intricate scrolls.  The price tag attached said sixty pounds. He needed this box to be in his collection.

            Robert searched over his shoulder for the girl he had seen standing idly by the till as he entered.  He wondered Is she looking my way? Would she notice if I slipped the box inside my blazer pocket and left the shop?

            His usual strategy was to conceal his coveted item and then slowly meander towards the exit. After all, who would believe a middle-aged man in a pin-striped suit, a bank manager, would be a shoplifter?

            The first item he had stolen was a small picture frame. Distracted, he had walked from the shop, forgetting it was in his hand. But what had started as an accident had turned into his secret compulsion. This would be his twelfth theft in three years, and in that time, not one person had challenged him as he left with his trophy. He felt bullet proof.

            Cautiously, he turned the metal handle of the display cabinet. It creaked, but it would not turn. Locked.

            He envisioned the silver snuff box sitting next to a silver engraved lighter he had taken from another antique shop in the town, just over three months ago. How spectacular they would both look together.

            His collection was kept in a mahogany wine gift box he had received for twenty-five years of service at the bank. It sat on the top shelf of his wardrobe, hidden behind a pile of jumpers. In quiet moments when his wife and daughter were out, he would marvel at these treasures. Trophies from his adventures away from his otherwise monochrome life.  For Robert, the thrill of taking something without paying for it was euphoric, and that looking through his small collection of trophies made him feel joyous.

            "Can I help you, sir?" It was the shop girl. 

            Robert realised he had been daydreaming and not watching the staff. The girl was wearing a name badge that said Lorraine, and underneath I’m happy to help. The expression on her face showed otherwise.

            "I was just admiring this lovely silver christening cup." Robert picked an item from the opposite side of the cabinet. "Can I take a look at it?"

             "Certainly, sir," Lorraine said in a monotone voice, "I'll fetch the key from the till."

Robert looked around the shop as she walked away. The small shop had tables and shelves crammed full of ornaments, antique photo frames and musty yellowing books, but he couldn’t see a security camera.

             Lorraine returned with a string of keys. She searched for the key-marked silver cabinet on a purple plastic fob. Once found, she turned the key in the lock, and the door swung open.

            Robert had to hide his elation.

            Lorraine took the silver cup down carefully from the shelf, dusted it with the sleeve of her blouse, and then handed it to Robert.

             He feigned interest making noises of appreciation. "Hmm. yes. A lovely piece." Inwardly praised his own cunning for picking an item without a price tag. "Could you find out how much it costs please?"

            "Certainly, sir, I'll just need to check with my manager." Lorraine snatched the cup back from Robert and walked quickly back to the counter. She opened a sliding door in the wall behind the till. 

            An office? Robert wondered.

            He looked at the open cabinet. This was his moment to act. He took a deep breath to calm his excitement and gently reached inside. He moved his hand slowly into the crowded space, avoiding two silver tankards that stood on each side of the snuff box. Almost there.

            In his peripheral vision, he saw Lorraine starting to turn and quickly withdrew his hand, cursing himself for his lack of agility. Robert moved backwards and pretended to examine a grandfather clock as he secretly watched the girl’s movements. He could hear snatches of conversation. Another woman's voice talking quietly from behind the sliding door. Drawn in by conversation, Lorraine turned fully to face the office.

            Robert moved back to the cabinet stealthily. He reached out his hand and grasped the box, brushing past one of the tankards, but not unsettling it. He withdrew his hand slowly and sipped the box into his blazer pocket.  He turned it over in his hand. It felt cold on his fingertips but feeling it inside his pocket exhilarated Robert further.

             Lorraine turned and stared to walk back over.

Robert gave her a broad smile as she drew closer. Just a few moments of conversation, and I’ll be free.

             "The cup is sixty-five pounds, sir."

            Robert sighed and feigned disappointment.  "Oh really, that's a shame. I didn't want to pay that much," He started to edge towards the door, "Never mind though, thanks for checking." 

            Excitement was building inside him with every step towards the exit. He knew he would have to fight the urge to punch the air as soon as he left the shop. The bell jangled as he opened the door, and he breathed out the last of the tension within him.

            "Just a moment, sir."

            A different voice. The manager? 

            He gripped the door handle tightly as he considered his options. Should he keep walking and pretend he hadn't heard anything?  He hesitated for a moment too long. Realising this he let go of the door handle, the bell jangling again before the door clicked shut.

            He turned to face an older woman, who he had heard talking from the office. She had a steely, determined look on her face.

            "Leave this with me, Lorraine dear."

            "Yes, Mrs Drewett," Lorraine said, excitement creeping into her voice.

             It was then that Robert spotted a tiny camera on a high shelf facing towards the cabinet. How careless he had been. He wondered if he could he reach into his pocket and drop the box. But again, paralysed with fear and indecision, he did nothing. He tried to fake a smile at Mrs Drewett to mask his growing anxiety. "I was just saying to the girl that the cup is more expensive than I would have liked. It's a lovely piece, though."

             "We have lots of nice pieces that we like to keep in that cabinet. Was there something else of interest sir?"

             Robert wondered Did she see me on the camera? Does she know what I’ve done? Or am I feeling unnerved at finally being challenged?

            "N No, I don't think so," Robert stumbled over his words.

            "Are you sure about that?" Mrs Drewett asked, looking at Robert with raised eyebrows.

            She knows Robert thought and swallowed hard.

Instantly he could imagine his wife's face in horror as he told her he had been arrested for stealing. His teenage daughters' shame at her father’s exploits. The whisperings of his staff at the bank.

            Robert patted his pockets as if he had just remembered something within one of them. "Of course! How silly of me, I meant to ask about this little silver box too."

He produced the box from his pocket, holding it out on his outstretched palm.

Mrs Drewett took it from him.

            "A simple misunderstanding. My apologies to you both." He made a small nod towards them both and turned towards the door quickly.

            But Mrs Drewett was quick to reply. "Was it sir? From my monitor in the office, it looked like you were trying to walk away with this box without paying for it."

            Robert felt the blood rushing to his face. a sweat formed on his upper lip. "A mistake, I can assure you,” He laughed nervously. “I'm not some young criminal, I'm a bank manager; look, I have money." He showed them both a wad of bank notes tightly pushed together in his worn brown leather wallet. "If I wanted these items, I would just pay for them." Robert could hear the desperation in his own voice.

            Then he saw a flicker of recognition appear on Mrs Drewett’s face as she studied him.

             "There's something about you that's familiar." Mrs Drewett's gaze on Robert was intense. "I want to check something. Lorraine, can you fetch the dark blue file from my desk please?"

            "Yes Mrs Drewett, I’ll get it now." Lorraine walked through to the office, a mocking smile on her face as she momentarily looked towards Robert.

            "Are you a customer at my bank maybe? Park Street?"

            "No, I'm not. But I do own another antique very shop close to Park Street, perhaps you have visited there."

            "Here's the file Mrs Drewett." Lorraine looked directly at Robert. "It's typical if you ask me, that this kind of old man thinks they can get away with anything."

            "I didn't ask Lorraine, but let's just see what I can find before we decide what to do with our friend here."

            Robert stood impotently by the counter. His confidence and hope of escape gone.

            Mrs Drewett used her finger to run down a list of text.  "Here we are. Three months ago, a silver engraved petrol lighter was taken from my other store, very similar in style to the silver box you were interested in." She looked at Robert, who was not making eye contact with her. "I watched the security tape of that day many times, and someone very much like you picked up that lighter and left the shop. That was you, wasn’t it?"

            "She's got you now," Lorraine sneered, "Shall I call the police Mrs Drewett?"

             "Let's all calm down." Robert could feel his mouth drying as he spoke, "I'm sure none of us want the complication of the police becoming involved here today."

            "Lorraine dear, put the closed sign in the shop for a moment, me and Mr...?" Mrs Drewett looked at Robert, waiting for him to give his name.

            "It's Jenner, Robert Jenner." He wanted to think of an excuse for his actions, but his mind was in turmoil.

             "Me and Mr Jenner here are going to sort this out now, and if we cannot, then I'd like you to call the police."

            Lorraine turned the sign on the door to closed, and then stood with her arms crossed, leaning against the door.

             "What can I do to make this all go away?" Robert was overwhelmed by the gravity of his circumstances, suddenly it was more than just a game he played for his distraction.

            "Show me that wallet again," Mrs Drewett asked. Robert complied, opening the wallet, and showing her the contents.

            Mrs Drewett looked at the cash and estimated there was around three hundred pounds. Then she saw Roberts's business card and picked it out, placing it on the counter in front of her. She smiled at a sheepish-looking Robert. "I think today you're going to handsomely overpay for this little silver snuff box. And then I'll be circulating your details to my antique-selling friends to make sure you never do this again."

            Lorraine drew her phone from her pocket, and before Robert was aware he heard a shutter noise.

"I have his photo too Mrs Drewett." She looked directly into Robert's eyes menacingly. “You’ll wish you never came into our shop today." Lorraine laughed as she walked away to the back office.  

             Robert's shoulders dropped; he knew that he would have to dispose of his collection. The feeling of elation it had given him before would now be replaced by his current feelings of shame and regret. He also knew that with his name and photograph circulating with details of his crime, that it was only a matter of time before his family and employer would find out. What a fool he had been. 

Accepting his fate, Robert began counting out his bank notes onto the counter.