The Thief in the Night Mystery

Written by Tom Fowler

Eleanor Hall would soon be 97 years old. Her body was failing but with the assistance of her beloved grandson Nick and his wife Nance, she was able to live in the house she and her late husband Harry had purchased in 1946, shortly after the war ended.

Eleanor pondered this one morning while sipping her morning coffee. Sadly, the neighborhood had deteriorated in the last few years. Not too long ago, it was well maintained and the neighbors quiet and friendly. But, in the last dozen years or so, Eleanor had seen the last of her old friends pass away and a new criminal element move in. Now, drug abuse and other crime, mostly thievery, had made the street she lived on unsafe. This was especially true for a 96-year old widow, but Nick had been unable to convince her to move into a retirement center.

“No,” she would reply, forcefully, whenever Nick and Nance broached the subject, “this has been my home for 64 years and will be until the day I die.” Sadly, her death was coming soon. Unknown to anyone besides herself and Doctor Murphy, she had terminal stomach cancer and had only a few weeks to live.

The state of the neighborhood and her health were not the only things on her mind this morning. Last night, the same thief in the night who had stolen into her home several times in recent weeks struck again, this time taking the $20.00 bill Eleanor had left for him to find on the living room coffee table. Eleanor had heard her unwanted intruder and the digital alarm clock on her nightstand told her it was 3:22 a.m. when he opened the unlocked front door a bit too noisily. The thief was not overly greedy and was careful not to disturb Eleanor, but she had studied him quietly more than once and noticed he was not a large man but he did carry a knife and gun. The thick-soled boots he wore made him appear taller than he was. She also noticed that he always wore a ski mask so it was impossible to identify who the thief was and that was the way things would stay, for Eleanor certainly did not plan on introducing herself to him in the wee hours of the morning when he would break in to her home. It would not do for a terminally ill 96-year old woman to challenge him.

Eleanor smiled to herself and chuckled bitterly. The thief, whoever he was, did not know whom he was dealing with. In her youth, Eleanor had traveled with a depression era gang of bank robbers. Her boyfriend had been killed in a shootout with J. Edgar Hoover’s G-Men and she had served several years in a Federal prison. Eleanor knew no fear and was no stranger to violence, but luckily for this punk who kept robbing her, she was far past her physical prime.

As far as she could tell, the robber was one of four boys who lived nearby and whom, she knew, would be familiar with her house and personal habits. As she emptied her coffee cup, the contents of which did not sit well on her diseased stomach, Eleanor pondered the four boys seriously for the first time

Todd Summers was the most violent and dangerous of the four. Todd had been in prison for armed robbery and assault. He was out on parole and considered by the local police to be very dangerous, for Todd, as Eleanor in her youth, knew no fear and enjoyed confrontation.

Jon Shaw was dangerous only because he was feeble-minded and stupid. Jon looked up to the other tough guys in the neighborhood and had become their lackey. Jon was neither bright nor mean enough to commit serious crime, but he had been in and out of the local jail various times for minor offenses. Eleanor’s friend on the local police force, Sgt. Rick Daniel, often laughed and commented that, “the Shaw kid gets into trouble when he’s with his pals. He’s not smart enough to get into trouble on his own.”

Next, Eleanor considered Max Reinke. She frowned as she considered what Max had given up. Max was well over six feet in height, a star basketball player on the local high school team and was headed to the state university on scholarship before he started getting into trouble. The word from her friend Sgt. Daniel was that his problems began when he developed a fondness for alcohol.

Last on Eleanor’s suspect list was Zac Coulson. Eleanor knew Zac’s mother and was aware of how broken-hearted she was on her son becoming a thug and overall ne’er-do well. Zac was very rude to all who knew him and a bully to boot. He was always picking on younger, smaller boys and teasing little girls. Eleanor smiled as she remembered the day Marty Clayton caught up with him in her front yard. Marty’s sister had come running home in tears, claiming it was Zac who had tormented her. Marty found him and bloodied his nose. Like most bullies, Zac could not take what he could dish out to persons weaker than himself. He screamed and ran away from Marty before more blows were delivered. The feisty Eleanor had invited Marty in for a cool drink and they had been friends ever since.

Eleanor lit a cigarette. It won’t kill me, she thought, stomach cancer is taking care of that. But, after thinking this through, I think I know who my robber is. I’ll be ready for him next time and I’ll know for sure. Grimly, she thought, I have nothing to lose. If he hurts me, I’m not long for this world anyway. I’ve had almost 97 very full years.

The strong-willed Eleanor was determined not to die before the thief in the night was dealt with.

Eleanor had to wait a couple of weeks, but the thief finally returned, entering as usual through the unlocked front door. Eleanor, whose clock read 2:50 a.m. when he heard the soft sounds of the familiar intruder in the living room, was ready for him. As he stooped to take the now usual $20.00 from the living room coffee table, Eleanor thought bitterly of the tacit arrangement she had made with this two bit amateur hood. She stepped into the room and aimed a pistol into his masked, startled face. Taking care not to get too close, she said, evenly, “I’m tired of paying you not to hurt me. This ends tonight.”

The thief was shocked and scared. The thief, raising his hands, said pleadingly, “Don’t shoot me!”

Eleanor had a keen suspicion regarding the thief’s identity. Evenly, she said, “Take off your mask. I want to see you before Sgt. Daniel arrives, which should be shortly as I speed dialed him before leaving my bedroom!”

The thief removed his mask. Eleanor, still being very careful with her startled, unwanted guest, said simply, “I thought so!”

It was barely two minutes before Sgt. Rick Daniel was standing in the small living room of Eleanor’s home. As he handcuffed the thief, he asked Eleanor if she was OK.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, yes!” was her reply. Rick Daniel chuckled, as he was aware of his elderly friend’s past.

He asked, “Did you know who he was before he took his mask off?”

“I was pretty certain,” was her answer.

Rick smiled and asked her to explain.