A Lucy-Anne Parker Mystery

“There is just nothing like a sunny spring morning,” thought Sergeant Mike McCluskey to himself as he made his way down the sidewalk. “Gives hope to the soul.” He looked up into the sunshine’s warm rays and fancied a smiling face looking back at him. It was good to be alive! Whistling a tune, he crossed the street and entered the shop district of the little town.

Walking the downtown beat was one of Sergeant McCluskey’s favorite aspects of his job—and he loved many things about being a police officer. As he walked, he recalled Chapter 7 of The Police Officer’s Guide to Success, which emphasized the importance of maintaining a strong, positive presence in the community. With a nod of his head, he greeted the local shopkeepers tending to their displays. Bert Flanders, the book’s author, had eloquently noted that when law enforcement fosters open, positive communication with the public, the flow of information remains steady. Mike had been struck by the author’s insight, so much so that he had climbed out from the warm bed covers and fetched a pencil. He had underlined that sentence.

Passing by the jewellery shop, he noticed an old woman poorly dressed in an odd assortment of clothing rummaging around the garbage. By her side was a shopping cart loaded down with bags and trinkets of many shapes and sizes. Sergeant McCluskey stopped for a moment and watched her. The title of Chapter 8 came to mind: Attention to Detail. Mike had just finished reading for the night, but as he turned the page, the chapter title had caught his eye. It reminded him of the importance of paying close attention to the small things—the ones most people would overlook. Fifteen years on the force had already driven that point home and Mike was fond of impressing the new recruits with his own strong observation skills. The devil was in the details. Every time. Mike could hardly wait until tonight.  

Jake, the owner of the jewellery store, stepped onto the sidewalk to greet the officer. Sergeant McCluskey pointed to the old woman. “How long has she been in town?” he asked Jake. 

Jake rubbed his chin. “I really couldn’t tell you, officer. I’ve seen her off and on for the last couple of days at least. She seems to keep herself busy rummaging around, but I couldn’t tell you where she has been spending the night.” They both stood and watched her for a minute. “I have to say I haven’t really noticed her much. Those types seem to just fade into the background. Nobody seems to give her the time of day. I don’t know that it is great for business, but I feel sorry for folks hard up on their luck like that. I’m not going to complain.” 

He looked pointedly at Sergeant McCluskey. Mike smiled back. “I know you don’t want to put anyone out, Jake, but the law says that folks like that need to be cared for. Keep our streets safe. That’s all we are looking to do.” 

Jake nodded. “I can appreciate that. But I like to think that being on hard times shouldn’t be against the law. Don’t do folks in this town any harm to be reminded of those less fortunate than we are. Let her be for a little while. Why don’t you? I’ll keep my ears open and if there are any complaints, I’ll let you know right away.” 

Sergeant McCluskey nodded. “All right Jake. I’ll give her some time to move on. Keep me posted, won’t you?” 

Jake nodded, then headed back into the store. Just as he reached the door, he turned back and spoke in a quiet voice. “Just want to give you a heads-up, officer. I’ve a very large shipment of jewels due here next week.” 

“Well, I appreciate the notice, Jake.” Sergeant McCluskey rubbed his chin thoughtfully as Jake headed back into the shop. He sighed a little to himself. There had been a string of jewel robberies across the country lately. The thieves had been hitting up stores in little towns, making off with most of their merchandise. Despite excellent police work, the criminals were still at large. Mike began his walk down the sidewalk again before turning to look back at the homeless woman. There was something about her he just couldn’t put his finger on. Something odd. He shook his head. As though sensing his gaze, the woman looked up and began hobbling away, awkwardly pushing her cart ahead of her. 

Mike watched for a second longer and then headed off down the street. He had a few more blocks to cover this morning and wanted to be done in a good time for lunch. His whistle echoed softly behind him, floating on the crisp morning air to the hobbling old woman. She smiled to herself, adjusted her hat, looked carefully up and down the street and then returned to the garbage bin she had just left. 

The weather took a turn for the worse later that afternoon, making Sergeant McCluskey glad that his shift was almost over. A quiet evening by the fireside stretched out before him, so delightful he could almost taste it. As he gathered his things, the phone rang, causing him to sigh. Nothing worse than a phone call squeaking in at the end of a shift.

Officer Miller came into the office and sat down as the phone call came to an end. 

“Those jewel thieves are getting closer and closer to home.” McCluskey said to Miller, rubbing a hand over his stubbled face. “I don’t like the looks of that. Those crooks need to be stopped.” Mike leaned back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head. “They’ve got a pretty foolproof plan, doing a thorough job of scoping out the shop before they make their attempt.” Officer Miller leaned on Mike’s desk. “That was the chief of police from Havensworth. Seems they had a store hit in their town two nights ago. So, they’re letting us all know how things went down, but they don’t really have much to go on. Appears to be a mixed team of men and women, but other than that they haven’t a clue.” 

Officer Miller shook his head. “Makes you nervous. A lot can go wrong.” His tone was grim.

Crime prevention was just as important as dealing with the criminals after the fact. These thieves were proving skilled at staying one step ahead of the law. It wasn’t enough to be good at solving the crime, it was about making sure it never happened in the first place. Bert Flanders covered that in chapter 3 of the book.

“We better keep our ears and eyes open.” Sergeant McCluskey gathered his things. “Jake told me they are expecting a good-sized shipment of jewels next week. So we best keep a lookout for anyone new in town. Report anything suspicious.” As he was heading out the door, he paused. The old woman by the garbage can had suddenly come to mind. Something about that woman that was not right. His stomach growled loudly. Mike shook his head and glanced at his watch. It was getting late, and dinner was calling. 

The rest of the week passed relatively quietly as Sergeant McCluskey went about his work. There was no further information on the jewel thieves and the officers were kept busy planning the annual fundraising dinner the precinct was hosting. Proceeds from the dinner were to go towards the new jail they needed to build. With all the recent budget cuts, the board of directors had decided to raise a large portion of the money needed to cover the expenses by hosting a series of dinners and charity events. 

Sergeant McCluskey had been put in charge of the evening’s decorations, a responsibility he certainly didn’t relish. He sighed deeply, glancing at the paperwork sprawled in front of him. There’s something terribly wrong, he mused, when my day is consumed with picking out balloon colors instead of chasing down criminals! His afternoon had been a blur of errands, all while patrolling his usual beat. As he passed the diner on Main Street, his sharp eyes caught sight of the familiar old bag lady standing on the corner. So, she’s still around, McCluskey thought, his curiosity piqued. Mike checked the time. There were not enough hours in a day. He had no time to question her now. He was already running late. Even as he rushed along, something about the woman nagged at him. If only he could put his finger on it. Bert Flanders always preached the importance of caution when jumping to conclusions, but Mike couldn’t shake the feeling that the old bag lady might be the perfect decoy for scouting out a potential heist. His mind raced with possibilities, even as he knew he should hold off on making any assumptions. Still, the idea lingered, and Mike vowed to make it a priority once the gala was over.

The night of the fundraiser had finally arrived, and Sergeant McCluskey reviewed his lists, concluding that everything that needed to be done was done. If anyone disagreed, they were welcome to step in and take over the organizational duties. He tugged at his bowtie. He felt ridiculous in this getup. Nearly every officer at the station was going to be at the dinner, and McCluskey could hardly wait for it to be over. Not surprisingly, Mike found himself without a date for the evening. It seemed all his lady friends were either too busy to return his calls or conveniently out of town. He sighed again, resigning himself to the fact that his night was likely to be just as dull as he’d feared.

As he was slipping on his dress shoes, the shrill ring of the telephone on his desk broke through his thoughts. “Hello?” he answered, grabbing the receiver. It was Jake, and his voice was tinged with urgency. Something was wrong.

“Sergeant! Get down here right away!” Jake was shouting into the receiver. “It’s a disaster! We’ve been robbed!” His voice broke off and Mike could hear shouting the background. “Wait! What’s happening—it’s her! This is unbelievable!“

“Jake, what is it?” McCluskey grabbed his badge and gun. “Don’t do anything, Jake. Wait for me to get there!”

“Huh?! Sergeant, you’re not going to believe this! Get down here as fast as you can!” Jake hung up the phone. 

Sergeant McCluskey was out the door in a flash. He ran down the stairs and wished he was in his uniform rather than his three-piece suit. Within minutes, he had the jewelry store in sight. Broken glass was all over the sidewalk. McCluskey groaned. It looked like he was too late. That old woman had been lingering around the jewelry store for a reason—she’d been scoping it out for that gang of thieves. He knew it. He should have trusted his gut and acted sooner.

Sergeant McCluskey called for back-up as he parked his car on the other side of the street. He jumped out and carefully crossed the street, keeping his eyes open for the beggar woman and her gang of criminals. 

Through the glass, he could make out a figure inside—the woman was still there.

“Stop! In the name of the law!” he shouted, his voice firm as he trained his gun on the suspect.

“Oh, Sergeant!” The old woman laughed as she put her hands in the air. “I thought you’d never get here!” 

Puzzled, Sergeant McCluskey approached slowly. As he rounded the corner, his eyes widened in disbelief. There she stood—the beggar woman, yes, but at her feet lay a group of dangerous-looking men, all tied up and gagged on the floor. McCluskey rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of the scene before him.

Beside the woman stood Jake, grinning from ear to ear. McCluskey’s confusion deepened as he glanced from the criminals to the store owner to the beggar woman. He shook his head, his mind racing for an explanation.

“Jake, I don’t understand. I thought you said the old woman was holding up your store!” He looked back at the beggar woman, and then something clicked. There was something so vaguely familiar about her. As if on cue, the woman let out a laugh, her hand reaching up to remove the old hat and wig she had been wearing. Beneath the disguise, bright red hair gleamed in the light.

McCluskey blinked. The only person he knew with hair that shade of red was Lucy Ann Parker—the private detective he’d assumed was out of town.

“What? You never returned any of my calls this week!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here? I thought you were out of town!”

Lucy-Anne Parker simply smiled, clearly enjoying McCluskey’s stunned reaction.

“Let’s get these men behind bars and I will explain everything to you!” Lucy-Anne Parker’s green eyes sparkled as she watched Sergeant McCluskey put his gun away. “You certainly come in style— a little late but definitely looking good!” Lucy-Anne laughed. “You, of all people, should know crime doesn’t take the night off for fundraisers!”

With the jewelry gang safely behind bars, Jake, Lucy-Anne, and Sergeant McCluskey sat down together with a hot cup of coffee. Lucy-Anne had cleaned herself up, looking every bit the sharp private detective she was, making the beggar disguise nothing but a memory.

Jake and Lucy-Anne explained the entire story to McCluskey. Earlier that week, Lucy-Anne had visited Jake’s jewelry store to have a necklace repaired. During their conversation, Jake had confided his concerns about the recent string of robberies across the country. Lucy-Anne, always on her game, had gone undercover as a seemingly harmless bag woman in order to help her friend. She knew the police could not provide long-term surveillance for the store, so she’d kept a careful watch on the comings and goings, following up on anything suspicious.

On the night of the break-in, she had hidden herself in an alley just down the street. The thieves, unaware of her presence, never saw her coming. With the element of surprise on her side, she had swiftly taken them down before they could get away.

Sergeant McCluskey shook his head in disbelief, adjusting his bow tie. “Why didn’t you let me know? I would’ve loved to help you out! You’re just lucky I didn’t have you arrested for loitering.”

Lucy-Anne grinned at him. “You’ve been so busy planning social events, it’s no wonder you haven’t had time to arrest me. Guess that worked in my favor!” She paused, then added with a playful glint in her eye, “If you still need a date, I can be ready in ten minutes… that is, if you’d like the company?”

Judging by the smile spreading across Sergeant McCluskey’s face, the idea of her company was one he very much welcomed.