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The Tuxedoed Robber (#crack)

After six days and nights of fruitless investigation, Sheriff McNeil treated himself to a whiskey at the Dog Days Saloon. He needed a clue, a lead, anything if he was ever going to crack the case.

Big Bill the bartender could read the sheriff's face.

"Still no hint of who attempted the two bank robberies last Saturday night?" Big Bill set another whiskey in front of McNeil.

The sheriff shook his head 'no'. He had dark circles under his eyes.

"This one is on the house," said Big Bill.

McNeil pondered the evidence gleaned from the security cameras. A lone tuxedoed man wearing a ski mask and armed with a Smith & Wesson .38 revolver attempted to rob two banks. In the first bank he demanded all of the cash and the tellers complied dutifully punching in codes to open the safe. It took quite a while as the manager was out to lunch. The thief looked nervous and impatient. He looked frequently at his watch and (this was the part McNeil found odd) looked at himself in a mirror along the entrance wall, smoothing his hair and smiling at himself.

The thief eventually left without waiting for the safe to be opened. Six minutes later he entered the second bank. Again, he could be seen pausing in front of a mirror fixing his hair. He also breathed into the palm of his hand and smelled it as if he was worried about having bad breath. In the second robbery he was more aggressive and demanding, asking immediately for the manager. In his hurry, he pushed an old woman aside who fell over and cried out holding her hip. Again he looked at his watch more than the tellers. After just a few minutes of waiting he ran out again empty handed.

"Hey, ya McNeil." It was Randy, a recently retired police officer. He was accompanied by a young man. "This is my sister's nephew, Charlie. He was in town last weekend for a wedding that didn't happen."

McNeil nodded a friendly hello but, to be honest, he wasn't in the mood for friendly chit-chat. He stared down at his whiskey glass while Randy and Charlie ordered pints of beer.

"So your cousin got the jitters at the altar?" Randy asked Charlie.

"Nah, guy turned out to be a creep," replied Charlie. "He had said he would pay for the reception, but it turned out he hadn't given the caterers a dime so there wasn't going to be a reception."

"Not good with money then," said Randy, downing half his pint in just one swig.

"Everyone was waiting at the church for the ceremony to start when the groom showed up late and fessed up. The bride's parents stood up and told everyone to go home." Charlie sipped his beer gingerly.

"Whew, well she dodged a bullet," said Randy emptying his glass and nodding at the bartender who was already pouring another. "That's not man any girl should marry."

"Yeh," said Charlie. "I felt bad for the guy and gave him a ride home. He wrung his hands the whole way telling me he should have robbed a bank."

McNeil's back stiffened and he turned to Charlie. "Say son, do you mind coming down to the station with me and telling that story one more time?"