Casper claimed that Jemima got his name from the Saturday staff. I don’t recall why they came up with this nickname and I cannot find any famous thieves called Jemima on the internet, so that will remain a mystery. All I know is, every one of us referred to this man by that name and nobody dared ask him for the real one.
There was no regularity to his visits, but when he appeared, it left us affected with a mixture of bemusement and rage.
He was a very tall, slim, young man with a piercing glare and an air of arrogance. Each time he entered the shop, he left with a bible. A bible that he had not paid for and therefore, most probably had no intention of reading.
Because our shop was in a retail quarter surrounded by department stores and posh shops, there was an office nearby run by security staff, on whom we could call, for either emergency assistance or a kind of, ‘police presence’ to ward off those considered to be, ‘suspicious, but less threatening’.
Jemima was never ‘less threatening’, so as soon as we saw him enter, we would call for emergency assistance. The young man was wise to this and therefore either crept in unseen or performed his deed so quickly that he was gone before the guards arrived.
I only remember one time when he was caught, and the expletives that were directed at 16-year-old Hazel, left her shaking.
Was he working for a gang? Was he stealing to fund a drug habit? We never knew. We only knew that he was the ‘Master of Stealth’ that took great pleasure in his pilfering.
Despite finding him immensely exasperating, there were two occasions involving him that left me laughing. One day, he marched-in at the usual moment when the ground floor was heaving with customers. The first flight of stairs was to the left of the till area and lead to the mezzanine floor, and to a second flight of stairs up to the first floor. This is where all the bibles were displayed. Unlike his usual galloping up the steps two by two, this day, his strides were shorter and much slower. In his hand was a large sheet of paper which he placed at the side of his face so that he could not be seen. This was not done surreptitiously at all. It was like he was mocking us by drawing attention to himself.
This audacity caused Casper to forget that his nickname was a secret and he bellowed,
“Jemima, come back here!”
He was pounced on and left the shop in his usual cocky manner, claiming he had been treated unfairly.
The other time was when he stole the most expensive bible we stocked – a genuine leather NASB. We needed the barcode in order to obtain a replacement copy, because the description of it was not being recognised by our computer system. It was from our usual supplier, but as there were more than 60 English-language versions of the bible that came in various sizes, cover designs and inner styles, it wasn’t easy to trace. The young flouter always took our best bibles and this latest one was over £70. Because of our plight, this was the first occasion that we actually wanted him to revisit us so we could say,
“You know that bible you snuck into your overcoat last week? We know you’re not going to bring it back, but if you haven’t yet thrown away the cardboard sleeve, could you please return it so we can scan the barcode?”
I don’t know how many copies of the word of God ended up hidden inside his large coat pockets, but I hoped that one day one would fall out and land on his feet, opened onto Exodus Chapter 20. He had a penchant for large print editions, so there was a possibility that, despite being tall, he would be able to see what verse 15 said.
I am not an expert on human behaviour, but I think he was mentally ill. I think he was demonically oppressed. I think he was poor, because his attire was rather odd, and his legs were very skinny. But there is one thing I know about him for certain. He was loved by God. I hoped that one day, he would take the time to open a copy from his gilt-edged collection and read it. It had the power to change his life in a totally different way to what he believed. Whatever money he got for his stash, is nothing in comparison to the wealth of riches God gives to those who surrender their lives to him.
I will never know what happened to Jemima, but my prayer is that instead of stealing the word of God, he is letting it speak to his heart and somewhere out there, is a changed man.
