Each issue of Galaxy Brain will contain one chapter of Kathryn McLeod’s fantastic book, “THAT LOOKS GOOD ON YOU–YOU SHOULD BUY IT!” This is the tenth chapter. You can read the other chapters here:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
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Scam I Am
“Don’t ever take a fence down until you know the reason it was put up.” G.K. Chesterton
“Make it na$ty.” Rihanna
By the time the scam came to light, I had probably worked more shifts with Lindsay than with any other manager, keyholder, or sales associate. That’s because, in spite of Gwen’s insistence that her scheduling was fair, it wasn’t, and both Lindsay and I were often scheduled to close. Gwen wasn’t punishing us, I don’t think, and even if she was, I didn’t care because I was okay with closing shifts and so was Lindsay.
Anybody else at Chestertons who thought they were getting more than their fair share of closing shifts would have complained, because they did complain even when it wasn’t actually true, they weren’t getting more than their fair share of closing shifts because Lindsay and I were. I could see it on the schedule.
Now, in retrospect, I can see why Lindsay didn’t complain about getting so many closing shifts, but what I can’t see is how Gwen wouldn’t have noticed that she didn’t complain. And even though Eva had told me way back when that Gwen trusted me to let her know if anything seemed amiss, Gwen had never said anything to me about this expectation.
And she certainly knew that I was a stranger in a strange land. Not only was everything about retail foreign to me, but the more I learned about its ins and outs, the less legitimate any of it seemed. And pointing it out only resulted in Gwen saying, “Katie, retail isn’t the government”, and me countering with, “You’d be surprised by how like the government it is”.
But, really, she was right. Retail isn’t the government. Not yet, anyway.
After Lindsay was long gone, the scam ancient history, I did report something amiss. And it was awkward, too, because it involved Carol, with whom I had developed a certain rapport. Gwen brushed it off as nothing, but then she sent Carol around to apologize to me for it, causing me to suspect that it wasn’t nothing at all. In fact, it caused me to suspect something was even more amiss, that a manager would out an employee to an assistant manager for reporting something amiss, but what did I know of this foreign land except that I was a stranger in it.
And again, in retrospect, I realize that more often than not, Lindsay had left me alone in the store while I just assumed she was conducting her personal life in the closet/office behind the wall of the hobbit corner. But she was also just a paging away. If I needed her to come out front all I had to do was pick up the phone.
And unless she was out by the garbage having a smoke, she’d come out right away. And if she didn’t come out right away, I’d know she was out by the garbage having a smoke.
And if she went up on the mall roof for a smoke, she’d always clear it with me first and never be gone more than five, ten, fifteen minutes. Okay, sometimes half an hour. But I didn’t say anything about it because I didn’t care. If anything, being left alone to do the job made me better at it. It’s always been a good day in my books when I’m on my own at work.
Am I making excuses for not telling Gwen about all the alone time I enjoyed thanks to all those closing shifts with Lindsay she scheduled me to work?
You’d better believe it. What kind of employee was I that I didn’t inform a manager about an assistant manager leaving me alone to do my job while she was off not doing do hers?
Anyway, I liked Lindsay, Lindsay liked me, we both liked being on our own for our closing shifts together, the cash added up at the end of the day, and we always did the bag check.
I didn’t suspect a thing.
In fact, I remember Lindsay finding the missing balance one night. It had been missing for a few days, something I hadn’t been aware of (a lot of Chestertons blah blah went past my ears without entering, I must admit) when Lindsay opened a drawer by the cash and there it was.
“Whoo hoo! Look what I found! The missing balance! $350!” And she waved the wad of cash in the air, fanning through it, and then pretended to stuff it into her bra.
Emily, who was also working that night, was absolutely giddy with delight that Lindsay had found the missing deposit in a drawer, because the deposit being in a drawer was on Gwen, and Gwen had been punishing Emily for some reason I wasn’t aware of by scheduling her for closing shifts with Lindsay and me. Not that there had to be a reason for Gwen to punish someone, anyway, because a lot of Gwen’s punishments were actually just random efforts aimed at keeping everybody on edge.
Lindsay joked about having Gwen “by the balls now” but I immediately donned my public servant hat and said, “No, there’s just one course of action to take here. Call Gwen at home right now, let her know you found the deposit in a drawer and that you’ve put it in the cash.”
She pretended to pout, and Emily said I was being a “meany bumface”, but I didn’t think for a minute that she’d do anything other than gloat to Gwen about finding the deposit in a drawer. In fact, I even told her, as her work mom, not to gloat, and she assured me that she understood, yeah, make like a team player with another manager and be quiet about telling her.
But I honestly don’t know what she did because I never checked in with Gwen about it.
Anyway, I guess what I’m trying to say is that, while I thought the beginning of the end came with Lindsay exiting the scene after the scam, it probably came when nothing changed to prevent it from happening again. It felt to me like working in the middle of a crime scene, the dead body still lying there stinking up the joint, while everybody carries on as usual pretending they can’t smell it.
So, to the scam.
Life was tootling along, same old same old, until one afternoon I showed up to a tenser than usual vibe, and I say tenser than usual because Chestertons had a pretty tense vibe already, what with Gwen being Gwen, plus manager, plus chair of the “Humiliate Anna into Quitting” campaign AND the “Constructive Dismissal of Arlene” campaign.
As I headed to the back for a bite of muffin before my shift, Caitlyn, who was hired somewhere along the hiring line, rushed over to tell me the back was temporarily closed to employees.
“Ken’s back there grilling Ashley #1, you know, who lives with Lindsay. Something’s happened. We’re not allowed to go back there. It’s like ‘The Wire’. He’s got a spotlight on her and everything. Nobody’s allowed back there.”
“No spoilers re ‘The Wire’ please. We’re still watching it. We have Netflix now because we cancelled cable a couple of years ago when it seemed like Rogers was just reaching into our bank account and taking out money whenever it felt like more was better than the amount our contract said we owed them each month. Plus we were seeing entirely too much of some asshole named Kevin O’Leary on CBC Newsworld. It was like he had his own publicly funded channel. It’s so much better now because it’s like he just has half his own publicly funded channel, CBC. It’s free over the airwaves, you know. CBC and TVO. That’s why they’re referred to as public broadcasters.”
“Gee, thanks for the Canadian history lesson, Katie. What’s cable?”
“Oh well cable-“
“Kidding, cable’s pretty yesterday, Katie. But seriously, this is serious! They think Lindsay stole clothes and Ken’s trying to get to her through Ashley #1.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Who’s Ken?”
“I don’t know. Gwen said his name is Ken. I think he’s the police. Like, from the Chestertons special police force. I think. Gwen didn’t say if he was the police but he looks like he might be.”
“Mall security?”
“No, Chestertons. Ken’s from where Mrs. Hingham lives.”
“Mrs. Hingham isn’t-. Never mind. Well, I’m going back there. I guess Ken can taser me if he doesn’t like it. Here’s hopin’, anyway. I wonder how much I’d sue for… a hundred grand?”
“No, don’t. You’ll get fired and you’re the only old lady I like. We like. And Ruth. But we like you more because you don’t make any sales.”
“Aw, thanks. Isn’t Lindsay working two floors down?”
(Lindsay had stopped showing up to work about a week or so before Ken showed up, and was reported to be working two floors down at one of the teen clothing stores.)
“Shh. Gwen doesn’t know that. And Ken doesn’t, either. Don’t tell him. He could put her in jail.”
“Oh dear, Caitlyn, I don’t see how Gwen can’t know that Lindsay is working two floors down. The mall isn’t big enough for the two of them not to have run into each other by now. But I’m going to put my purse in my locker and change my shoes so I can start my shift. Time is money.”
My purse was a constant source of amusement to the university girls because it was just big enough for a slim paperback, a slimmer sandwich, bus tickets, a key, and about ten dollars. Everybody else hauled around purses the size of my carry-on luggage.
“Speaking of Ashley #1, Caitlyn, do you know what happened to Ashley #3 and Ashley #4?”
“Um… you mean those girls, one was tall and skinny, and one was short, and they both had brown eyes and dark hair that they wore in dreadlocks, or sometimes a weave?”
“Yes, the two black girls.”
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Katie, you’re not supposed to say <mouths black>!”
“Caitlyn, I’m pretty sure it’s okay to say black.”
“Really? We can say <mouths black>?”
“Yes, and if anybody tells you different, send them to Tj’s dad.”
“Hunh? But yeah, what’s Tj? Because she’s not <mouths black>.”
“Sikh.”
“What’s-”
“Indian. “
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Katie, you’re SO not supposed to say <mouths Indian>!”
“From India. She’s Indian from India. But Sikh. That’s her religion. I should have said Indian from India and not Sikh. Sikh’s a religion, not an ethnicity.”
“Like Emily?”
“No, Emily’s Indian from India, but not Sikh. Although, actually, I think she’s from Ottawa.”
“Can you guess what I am? No, that’s too easy. Canadian is too easy. Can you guess where I’m from in Canada? I’ll tell you, Mississauga!”
“Wow, all the way from Mississauga to Ottawa. Okay, I’m going in. Wish me luck. By the way, what year are you in, Caitlyn?”
“Fourth and final! Teacher’s college or law school, here I come! Good luck, Katie. Don’t get fired. Although if you do I guess I’ll get more shifts.”
Alas, I didn’t get fired. Not that Caitlyn would have got more shifts if I had. In fact, she would soon be gone in another one of Gwen’s random clear outs of staff, which she did by downsizing shifts to a couple of mornings per week that she knew a university girl couldn’t work, in favour of hiring a new university girl indistinguishable from the university girl she’d just downsized out the door.
In fact, I’d even figured out for Emily that being scheduled to work closing shifts with Lindsey and me was a sign that Gwen actually valued her salesmanship. (She was pretty good, too, although I once caught her asking a customer on her way out of the store, a customer she’d just served at the cash, “What brings you into Chestertons today?”)
And so into the back I went, and there indeed as Caitlyn had warned, was Ken, holding a flashlight and shining it on Ashley #1, while she rummaged through her purse, Gwen standing over her with arms folded while she looked up and over everyone’s head at dust motes in the middle distance. Or perhaps she was counting stacked sweaters.
“So what’s going on?”
“Oh hello Katie, have you met Ken? No, no, of course you haven’t. Katie, this is Ken.”
“Hi Ken.”
“Ken, this is Katie. She’s here for her afternoon shift. She’ll just be a minute.”
“Right, hello, and while you’re here Katie I’d like you to show me your locker.”
“Sure, Ken. Let me just get past you here and I’ll unlock it.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa – you lock your locker when you’re not here?!”
“Uh, yes? But as you can see, it just houses my shoes, deodorant and a plastic glass for getting tap water from the bathroom. I don’t believe in buying bottled water. Nestle is stealing it from our aquifers and I-”
“You’re supposed to keep your locker unlocked when you’re not here. It’s only your locker when you’re here, and even then it’s just for you to use while you’re here. It’s not yours yours. Rule number one of loss prevention is always leave your locker unlocked unless you’re in the store to unlock it for random spot inspection by management.”
At this point Gwen interjected that she told me not to lock my locker when I left for the day but that I must have forgotten, which I guess I did because I have no recollection of her saying any such thing. What I do recall her saying is, “Please bring deodorant and keep it locked in your locker because I don’t want the staff stinking up the store. Custo- clients can be very cruel. By the way, do you use proper deodorant? Because I can smell sweat right now. So forget anything natural. I want you to use a strong deodorant. Something with chemicals. Yes, I can smell sweat. You smell. Be glad I told you because it can feel terrible when a custo- client does.”
“Oh that’s right. Gwen said to keep our lockers unlocked when we aren’t here. I mean, sure. Why not. I only lock it when I’m here because it’s where I keep my purse and we have a lot of customers using our washroom. It’s nicer than the mall washroom and it’s just outside this area so, you know, we can’t be everywhere at once. Although we are because we monitor the front, back, sides, and fitting rooms.”
“So Gwen, how do you prevent customers using the washroom from accessing the inventory?”
“Oh well Ken what Katie forgot to add was that we always keep our eye on the washroom door to ensure that the customer exits back into the store. Actually, we accompany the customer to the washroom, letting another sales associate cover our section while we do that, and wait to ensure she re-enters the shopping area. Right, Katie? You’ve been assigned to watch-”
“Yes, and the washroom door. We watch it, too. Thanks for reminding me, Gwen.”
“Well good, good to hear. That’s the proper protocol. This girl here was keeping her locker locked, too. It seems a lot of the girls here are keeping their lockers locked when they aren’t in the store. Gwen?”
“Right, I’ll post a reminder notice on the board to keep lockers unlocked when not in the store.”
“Yeah so what-”
“I’m going to have to ask you to step it up, Katie. I’m in the middle of an important investigation here and Ashley’s just helping us out a little bit before she leaves for the day.”
“Yeah. Okay. What’s your job again, Ken?”
“I’m the head of loss prevention at Chestertons, just in town to do a little i-dotting and t-crossing. Nothing to be concerned about, although I’m glad to know that henceforth you’ll be keeping your locker unlocked when you’re not in the store. I wish our young ladies took direction as well as you do, Katie.”
“You and Gwen both, Ken, I’m sure.”
“Well actually, I may as well put a few questions to you regarding your relationship with Lindsay while you’re here. I understand you were quite cozy. She called you ‘Work Mom’. Did you hang out together after hours?”
“Gosh. Gee. Am I under investigation here, Ken? Because if I am I’d like to give my lawyer a call before I answer any more questions.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don’t make me haul you in to HR for locking your locker when you leave the store. Kidding. Lighten up, Katie. Talked to Lindsay lately? Gwen here tells me you two gabbed a lot with each other. It’s okay. I know women gab. I think it’s fair to say they gab a lot. So nothing unusual there but you must know some stuff about Lindsay. Gossip, like.”
“Wow. Line-up forms to the right, ladies.”
“What do you mean? I’m a happily married man. Reason? My wife’s not like other women. So did Lindsay tell you what she was up to here in the store?”
“Look, Ken. You seem like a guy who knows the score so I’m going to be straight with you. For a long time I just pretended to have a lawyer but now I actually do. So good luck to you in your future endeavours, as they say when you don’t get the job. I’m going out on the sales floor now.”
And with that I locked my locker, cupping my hand over the combination to hide it from Ken, just to make him think I didn’t trust him, and left him to solve the case, although it was pretty obvious that Lindsay had stolen money from Chestertons, and that instead of calling the police, which is what a legitimate business would do, Chestertons sent Ken down from HQ.
I don’t actually have a lawyer. Well I do, I guess, but he’s in his 80s and does family law. He handled my divorce from Andy. I have no idea if he’s still practicing because he was in his 80s when he handled my divorce and that was a few years ago. We were separated for a long time, Andy and I, but I put off getting a divorce because of the cost, emotional and financial, which I explained to a colleague at Environment Canada who then encouraged me to get a divorce.
I was under the impression that she was a psychologist, this colleague, but it turned out she just watched a lot of Oprah.
“It’s going to cost money and I hate spending money. I mean, I think it would be good to be divorced, I just, you know, argh, then I’ll have wasted all that money.”
“Ooh, okay, I’m hearing cost and spend and waste, so I want you to start thinking of money as something you use, like a tool. So you’ll be using money to do something you yourself said would be good. And it would be good. You left the marriage-”
“Because I met Steverino.”
“Oh Katie, if you hadn’t met Steven Reno you would have met Peter Reno. Or Randy Reno. People who are happily married-”
“Oh wow, breakthrough, Savita! I’d have left that marriage half a dozen, no, a dozen times, and pretty much for ANYBODY else. Even before we were married and had kids and were just dating I wanted to- I did! Cripes, half a dozen times at least! Worst girlfriend ever. Oh, and I just read this book called Don’t Put That in There! And 69 Other Sex Myths Debunked. It’s by a couple of doctors who say we’ve got it ass backwards, that it’s women who aren’t meant to be monogamous. Our sex drive, our libido nosedives in marriage because we want sex with different men, not the same one. But the man’s sex drive doesn’t go down because he’s okay having sex with the same woman. Seriously, we should all put off marriage until we’re at least forty. Forty’s a good age to settle down with somebody. Rope one off from the herd. Forget about having kids. They just grow up, move away and never call anyway.”
“Our marriage was arranged by our parents. My husband is the only man I’ve ever been with. We are very fond of each other. I told him one day that I like the KitKat and so he has left me one in the fridge every morning before work. This he does after his night shift at the hospital has concluded. Every other Saturday we spend together. We enjoy walking.”
“Haha, well enough about you, Mother Theresa.”
“Haha, you’re so funny, Katie. We’re not religious, even for Hindus, for whom Mother Theresa is not a saint. Now go. Use money. Get divorced.”
But back to Chestertons and Lindsay stealing what would turn out to be about seven thousand dollars, and not just the float, as I had thought until Arlene set me straight one night when we closed together.
Back out on the floor Caitlyn was avoiding eye contact and Gwen, who’d reappeared, was pretending nothing was out of the ordinary by making cheerful conversation, which she never did unless something was out of the ordinary.
“Katie did you watch Breaking Bad last night? Skylar is such a great character, isn’t she? Apparently everybody hates her but I think she’s amazing. So strong. She’s protecting her family in her own way. Did you notice the moccasins we got in yesterday? So fun! Our custo- clients are going to love them. Chestertons is trying out some new styles. Instead of three different fits for our dress pants we’re going to have one. No more Heritage, Signature, Curvy, just one fit. It’s very exciting. You should try on the new size 2 in regular sometime. Isn’t it exciting we’re getting 2s in regular now? Oh, did you ever do the try-on-a-thon? I don’t think you did. Next-”
“Yeah okay. But then I’m going to ask you what’s going on because-“
“Nothing’s going on, Katie. And I can’t say anything anyway. It’s a loss prevention issue. Ken is here because something was flagged and-“
“So we’re under investigation?”
“No, we aren’t. But I can’t say any more than that. All I can say is that it involves someone who is no longer here.”
“Esther?”
“No, not Esther. I can’t say who.”
“Eva?”
“No, not Eva. Stop it, Katie. I already told you I can’t say who.”
“Lindsay?”
“Yes, Lindsay. But I can’t tell you any more so stop asking.”
“Lindsay was stealing money from the cash?”
“No, Katie, not like that. Oh, I think- I’ll be right back. I’m just going to check on Ashley #1.”
For sure I was a little concerned about leaving Ashley #1 under Ken’s spotlight, because the university girls, except for Tj, aren’t really up to speed on their rights, but they’re not easily intimidated by authority, either. And even though I liked Lindsay, it wasn’t much of a stretch to believe she’d ripped off Chestertons. Cripes, if I’d been the manager of Chestertons, I’d have fired her the first Saturday she called in sick, but apparently it’s not that easy to fire an assistant manager, or so Gwen told me after all the dust had settled.
Anyway, the vibe on the floor was about to get even more tense because – dum da dum dum dummm – Rita had shown up for the inquisition.
“Hey Rita.”
“No one at the front, Katie. Better hustle. Lotta valuable stock out there for the taking.”
“Yes, I’m fine, thanks, and you?”
But she was gone to the back already, my passive aggression unheard.
The store wasn’t busy so I leaned against the table in petites loaded up with cashmere sweaters that were referred to as the Audrey Hepburns, because they were ridiculously skimpy and had boat-necks, but had barely settled in when I saw Ashley #1 at the door having her bags checked by Gwen.
She shot me a glance that more or less said “Bye” in that “Pretty sure we won’t be seeing each other again” way.
“Katie? Can you come in the back, please? Caitlyn? Can you watch the front? Ashley’s gone home and won’t be coming back and I don’t want any more discussion about it.”
“Sure, Gwen. I’ll come to the back.”
And we headed to the back where Ken and Rita sat, waiting.
Ken had put away his flashlight. Rita would be doing the talking.
I live for these moments. Always have. No idea where my confidence goes the rest of the time.
“So Katie, we’re meeting with each sales associate because Ken has discovered a theft-”
“Wow. Sounds criminal. Why haven’t the police been called?”
Rita looked momentarily flummoxed, perhaps even a bit confounded.
“Who says they haven’t?”
Ooh, good catch, Rita.
“Ah, okay. So the police have been called.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“That’s right. You didn’t. Go on.”
I’m trying not to be too flattered, too soon, but I can see myself being reappraised.
“As I was saying, Ken has discovered a theft, and although we’re not accusing you of having anything to do with it-”
“Whoa. Hang on, Rita. Let me just call my lawyer-”
“What?! No! You don’t need. Oh for heaven’s sake, Katie. This is just an informal-”
“If you could just move your chair aside there, Ken, so I can get to the phone in my locker-”
“Jesus Christ! You don’t have to. Okay. That’s okay, Katie. We’re done here. You can go back out on the floor. We’re good.”
“Gee, are you sure, Rita? Because I heard theft and accusing-”
“Our apologies. We certainly didn’t mean it to sound like that-”
“Sure, okay. Anything else?”
“No, that’s fine. Thank you, Katie. Everything’s fine. Right Ken? Right Gwen?”
“Right.”
“Right.”
“Okay, great. Nice seeing you again, Rita. Ken. I’ll go back to my post at the front, Gwen.”
“Yes, thanks, Katie.”
It was fun. I don’t know how I knew that the police hadn’t been called and that mentioning a lawyer would cause Rita to turn a whiter shade of vampire, but I did. And for about a month after that Gwen was so solicitous that I started to wonder if there was more to it than I had thought, what I thought being that Lindsay had stolen the float of $350, or a nightly deposit, never a big deal because our customers rarely paid cash, almost always credit or debit.
Meanwhile, the university girls had gone from being defensive of Lindsay to annoyed because she’d left town owing money to both Tj and Emily, which is weird because I’d once offered to lend her money myself but she wouldn’t hear of it. It was just after she got served by a guy who came into the store one night when I was working.
“Lindsay here?”
“Yes, she’s in the back.”
“Could you go get her? It’s kind of an emergency. It’s about a friend of hers.”
“Oh, okay, sure. Watch the store for me, will you.”
Later, I asked her if she needed an emergency loan.
“No, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I can always ask my grandmother for money, I just don’t like to do it. She’s got lots of money. She’s loaded.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. But I wouldn’t offer if I couldn’t afford it.”
“Thanks, but no thanks, work mom. I’m good.”
Anyway, Arlene and I were closing together one evening, Lindsay was long gone, and Arlene was being constructively dismissed. That’s probably the only reason I found out about the scam, the cracks in Arlene’s professionalism widening into chasms with each successive humiliation by Gwen.
“So did you hear the latest on Lindsay, Arlene? She’s apparently up in Thunder Bay, back working in the restaurant and bar business where she belongs.”
“That young woman belongs behind bars, Katie. Seven thousand dollars, that’s how much she stole.”
“Seven thousand dollars?! How did Gwen not notice- how did the bank- In like, cash from the till?”
“What are you talking about, Katie? What cash from the till?”
“That Lindsay stole!”
“Lindsay didn’t steal cash from the till.”
“But, Ken. The theft.”
“Oh dear. No. You don’t understand anything, do you. I keep forgetting, you’re from government. Lindsay didn’t steal cash from the till. Not as such, anyway. She was making phony returns onto a debit card.”
“Uh-”
“Oh, right. You don’t have a clue. I keep forgetting. You know nothing about retail. Oh yes, there are a million and one scams. Lindsay only got caught early on because of the assistant manager down east, everybody on edge about the $300K she stole, and also Ashley #1.”
“Okay, I don’t-”
“Well, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this because the girls claim you’re writing a book about Chestertons-”
“Well that’s actually your fault, Arlene, because you kept saying ‘I should write a book about this place!’ except at the time you weren’t being bullied into quitting, I mean, constructively dismissed, and I didn’t trust you to do it justice.”
“Hey, I’m not signing any non-disclosure agreement.”
“Didn’t you say you already did?”
“Oh yeah. Shit. Did you sign a non-disclosure agreement?”
“Nope. And I’m going to write a book about this place, although I’ll probably talk about it for a few years first. C’mon, I’ll write you up like a super hero. Explain the scam. I won’t write about it if you don’t want me to, I just want to understand it. I hate not understanding scams. People like me think it’s easier to grind away at a part-time minimum wage job than to perpetrate a scam because we think scams are too complicated.”
“Phff, not this one. A customer makes a return, Lindsay processes it, but instead of putting it back for re-sale, she puts it aside. Later, she looks up the transaction, re-prints a receipt, scans the barcode and does a return onto her debit card.”
“Holy-o-frig, Arlene. It’s like you’re speaking French or something. I didn’t understand any of that. Is the scam why at the last meeting Gwen said two people at the cash for a return?”
“Yup, partly. Maybe. No, not really. Look, Chestertons is a sieve for theft. Ken only noticed because Ashley #1 wanted to buy a pair of socks, you know, the ones with the penguins on them, and didn’t have any cash, so Lindsay lent her the debit card she was using to make the phony returns. That’s why the spotlight was on Ashley #1, even though Lindsay had already absconded. It was a pretty stupid move. I’m surprised Lindsay lent Ashley #1 her debit card.”
“She was working two floors down.”
“What?! She was?!”
“Yeah, I thought you knew. Not for long, though. Gwen knew, Arlene. I saw her pass by and look in once. She knew.”
“Hah! Lindsay would have known nothing would happen once she was caught because they wouldn’t want to draw attention to the fact that they weren’t going to do anything about it because they don’t want to invest the money on actual loss prevention. It’s cheaper to put up with the theft and pass the costs on to the consumer.”
“Jesus. How do they get insurance?”
“I don’t know, Katie. That’s something you’ll have to find out for your book, I guess. NOT that you’re going to write about the scam, of course.”
“Of course. And like I said, I didn’t understand it anyway. Although, I guess I could write what you just said about transactions, receipts, barcodes and leave it to readers to figure out the scam. Or I could just tell them to google it. I’m sure there’s an explanation of the scam somewhere out there in cyber space.”
(Author’s note: If googling doesn’t get you the gist, this recycled cartoon from Chapter Seven “Bag Check Please”, but with added burglar in the background, pretty much sums it up.)