The presence of three overworked, perspiring police officers still couldn’t mask the delicious smell of fresh goods filling the inside of DeCorinos bakery. It was early Monday morning and a call came in to the precinct that the bakery had been burglarized. Lieutant Chonski of Vice had just arrived and was getting the details from patrolman Jackson who was the first uniform on the scene.
According to Jackson, Bakery owner Angelo DeCorino arrived at five am to open up for business. He had done this every morning for the last twenty-three years since he took over the business from his father. He was alarmed to see that the front door of the shop was left slightly open. Cautiously, he entered the premises to find that some important pieces of store merchandise were missing. A gold cappuccino machine, his cash register and a newly installed computer system that cost Mr. DeCorino quite a penny. He then ventured into the back of the store where he did most of his baking and unfourtanely discovered that his safe was wide open and completely empty. Angelo had told Officer Jackson that he had precisely eight thousand dollars in petty cash enclosed in the safe as of yesterday.
This was the third retail establishment in the area that had been robbed in the same fashion over a span of three months. At each of the previous crimes, the culprit (or culprits) had always left behind a unique calling card. A symbol of their victorious theft and the elusiveness that they continued to practice. Lieutenant Chonski now knew what particular type of evidence to look for at any of future cases that would might lead to a suspect to be arrested. He looked across the bakery, around the officers who were taking statements and conducting crowd control. The shelves were partially ready for business that day with loaves of Italian bread, fresh cakes and assorted pastries. Chonski walked into the back storeroom, his eyes scanning all around the area for that one clue that would confirm a suspicion he already had. Nothing was detected. He thought that maybe he was wrong. Perhaps this was the work of a different assailant.
He walked back out unto the sales floor and stopped to do one more view of the crime scene. A display of pastries in one of the enclosed glass cabinets drew his attention. From a distance, it looked as if everything inside the case was a piled mess. Every other case in the bakery had all the cakes and pastries lined up in a neat and organized fashion.
Once Chonski got a closer look at the pile of pastries, It didn’t take long for him to deduce that this was indeed the same thieves who had committed the previous crimes. Inside the cabinet were assorted glazed donuts and creme filled Italian cannolis. Chonski was surprised to see that approximately eleven of the cannolis had provocatively been shoved through the holes of eleven donuts. Each combination leading one to think that this was some type of symbolism for sexual intercourse. At all three previous crime scenes, Sneaky and Cheeky (a name given to them by the press) had left behind some type of sexual innuendo using merchandise from that particular stores inventory. Lieutenant Chonski sighed a breath of resignation and smirked. It had just humorously struck him that these are probably the first set of donuts in the history of law enforcement that any officer would pass on eating.
September Writing Prompt- Sneaky and Cheeky- Day 12/30
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