Black Cat Weekly #24

A JAR FULL OF CHARITY, by Hal Charles

A JAR FULL OF CHARITY,

by Hal CharlesAs Detective Jill Coleman entered the Sav-a-Minit to grab a cup of coffee before heading to the station, she was greeted by a frantic Della Stanton, the convenience store’s longtime owner.

“Oh, Detective Coleman,” said the pale woman, grasping Jill’s arm, “I was just ready to call your office.”

“What’s the problem, Della?” said Jill.

“Well, you know how all the merchants in town have been collecting contributions for the community charity drive?”

Jill nodded. “I’ve been dropping my loose change in your pickle jar for over a month now.”

“That’s the problem,” said Della, gesturing toward the checkout counter where the huge jar always perched. “Somebody took the jar.”

Jill’s eyes confirmed that the area near the register was empty.

“The jar was there when I opened the store earlier,” said Della, desperation in her voice. “I stepped out front to tell the dairy delivery man to pull around to the parking lot out back. I was only gone for a few minutes, but when I came back in, the jar was gone.”

“Did you have any customers in the store at the time?”

“Three regulars,” said Della, but all three left through the front entrance. That jar was big, and I would have noticed if one of them were carrying it.”

“Could someone have come in through the back door?”

“I keep that door locked. I was headed toward the rear to open it for the delivery man when I noticed the jar missing.”

“Who were the customers?”

“Well, Billy Reynolds ran over from the garage across the street. He said he got in early this morning to work on a couple of cars and needed a snack, and I heard that hotrod of his before 7:00. I let him park it out back. I swear he could buy a new car for what he puts into that piece of junk.”

“Who else was here?” Jill said.

“Cora Michaels,” said Della, her eyebrows raising. “Come to think of it, Cora has won the charity jar competition for the last two years. I thought she might be stopping by to see how I was doing, but Cora’s so frail. She wouldn’t . . . ”

“That leaves one more possible suspect,” said Jill.

“Fred Willard stopped in to pick up a few loaves of bread for his sandwich truck. He said he was in a hurry because he’d parked his truck in a NO PARKING slot out back and with his shoestring business he couldn’t afford a ticket.”

Jill walked toward the rear of the store. “You said you keep the back door locked.”

“That’s right,” said Della, following the detective. “You can open it from the inside with the push bar, but you need a key to enter from outside.”

Spotting a magazine lying on the floor about two feet from the door, Jill suddenly suspected how one of Della’s three customers could have taken the jar from the store through the rear by propping the door open for reentry with the magazine.

As they approached the door, Jill had already eliminated Cora Michaels since she knew Cora and reasoned that there was no way the frail woman could lift the huge pickle jar filled with coins.

Pushing open the metal door, Jill walked over to a garbage dumpster. She peered over the edge, then reached in and pulled out a large empty jar. As she turned toward Della, the jar slipped from her hand and shattered on the blacktop, “I’ll have to buy you a new jar,” Jill said, “but I believe I’ve `cracked’ the case.

Solution

As soon as the jar slipped from her fingers, Jill realized the rim was covered with grease, the type you can’t escape in an auto shop. Jill later interviewed the dairy delivery man, who said that when he pulled to the rear of the store he had seen a young man in coveralls carry a heavy bag to a car in the parking lot, then reenter the store. Confronted with the evidence, Billy confessed that he needed the money to buy a new tire for his beloved hotrod. In a true act of charity, Della decided not to press charges.