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The Thief

Anne Turner Taub

    Everyone loved Marylou Scott. Her employers loved her because she was totally reliable, always early for work, no sudden health problems when asked to work late, and her appearance when she greeted clients in the little waiting room of their law offices was pleasant but appropriate. She had a pretty face, auburn curls, clothes that were attractive but subdued and perfect for her law office setting.
    One and all, her co-workers absolutely adored her. In that office with several legal secretaries, in a place where there could easily arise resentment, or feelings, imagined or otherwise, of discrimination in work, everyone admired her. She came in early, worked as late as anyone wished, but best of all, there was nothing on the computer that she couldn’t fix. She saved the firm hundreds of dollars by not having to call in a professional to fix the computer or help with the copier. These machines, whose inner workings could be a total mystery to the others immediately and graciously offered up their secrets to Marylou. Her knowledge of English punctuation and spelling, her familiarity with every legal phrase that had ever been thrown at her—her office skills were phenomenal. Yet her modesty when another secretary thanked her in overwhelming relief at what she had been sure was a total disaster, was genuine.
    So when things began disappearing in the office, Marylou was the last person in the world anyone would think of blaming. Small amounts of money went, inexpensive pieces of jewelry disappeared—nothing really large—but irritating to lose when you had plans for it. The secretaries had all known each other for years and nothing like this had ever happened. But one day when the other secretaries were out celebrating a birthday, one of them had come back early to get a present she had forgotten. She could hardly believe it when she actually saw Marylou dipping into the cash drawer kept for small emergencies. And in her hand was the new brooch Dorothy had bought to go with her Easter outfit. After that, Marylou was soon let go and sighs of relief were felt by everyone when they no longer had to be careful about leaving things around. For a few days, everyone congratulated each other on their decision to let Marylou go.
    But a funny thing happened. Everyone began missing Marylou so much that it affected the whole office. Computers broke down in ways they had never done before. To get the computer adjuster they sometimes had to wait two or three days. The copy machine had a fit of pique and refused to print anything that was more than one page long. It also refused to print with the new toner—it wanted the old one back even though it was almost twice as expensive. Sometimes clients came in at a quarter to five in the evening and just “had” to see their attorneys right now. And you had to stay, even though you had to get home to pick up your kid, or make dinner in time for your family.
    Finally, the secretaries had a conference among themselves, and decided that, thief or not, they had to get Marylou back. They devised an almost perfect plan. When Marylou was finally convinced that she was really wanted, things got back to normal. The copy machine took any kind of paper that it was fed, and the computers exhibited model behavior.
    The plan was a simple but effective one. Just as everyone would contribute to a fund for a Christmas party, each day one girl in turn would carelessly leave something small out on her desk—a dollar bill, a small piece of jewelry, a paperback best seller—nothing valuable but something desirable in some way. Each day this “gift” would disappear but they all felt it was worth it—it was like giving to the office pool. This went on for several weeks and everyone went back to the pleasure of knowing that whatever went wrong, Marylou would know how to take care of it.
    But then one day Marylou up and left. Just like that. No reason, no subtle indications beforehand of dissatisfaction—she had been as pleasant as ever. One Friday at 5 p.m. she just announced that she would not be back. And she left.
    It soon became apparent where Marylou had decided to go. She now worked in one of the law offices that was nearby and where the secretaries knew each other well and often had lunch together.
    Dorothy, the generally accepted head of the secretaries, due to her longevity and knowledge of the workings of the office, decided one day to have lunch with Cynthia, a long-time friend from the other office. For weeks the girls in the original office had been going mad trying to figure out why Marylou had left. Since they all knew everything about each other’s jobs, they knew she was getting the same salary. In fact, the conditions “over there” had to be almost the same. Why did she leave? Why? Why?
    The attorneys were very upset and tended to blame the other secretaries. Papers that had to be gotten out yesterday had to wait till the intercom was adjusted and the paper feed on the computer fixed.
    “Oh, she is the greatest,” said Cynthia when she met Dorothy for lunch, “there’s nothing she can’t do. And she is so wonderful with our clients that I think even the law practice may have improved. I don’t know how your firm could ever have let her go.”
    “We didn’t let her go. We did everything in our power to keep her,” sighed Dorothy, thinking of the many “gifts” that had accidentally been left about, “but she just up and left one day and we never knew why. You wouldn’t know, would you?”
    “Well, I don’t know if this will help, and I feel a little uncomfortable having to say this, but there is one thing she did say about why she left your firm.”
    “Oh,” said Dorothy, “please tell me what it was. There was nothing we would not have done to keep her.”
    “Well, at the employment interview, she said that she was interested in working somewhere more exciting. She said that working in your firm had lost its challenge, that every day she knew what to expect, that there was nothing different to look forward to.” Cynthia bowed her head, “Sorry, but that was the reason she gave. She obviously finds our office more exciting.”
    Dorothy swallowed hard. Suddenly Marylou had found that there was no challenge? After weeks of donations from everyone in the office?
    As they were leaving the restaurant, Cynthia reached into her handbag to leave a tip, but frowned for a moment and said, “That’s funny. I was sure my change purse was in here. I must have left it on my desk in the office—strange, but that never happened to me before. Oh well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
    Dorothy looked at her, and to Cynthia’s surprise, began to laugh uncontrollably.
    She never told Cynthia why she had laughed but the irony of the situation tickled her fancy so much that she could never think of it again without a sudden amused smile lighting up her face. Cynthia was hurt, “I don’t think this is funny.”
    “Oh, I am sorry,” said Dorothy, ”it just reminded me of something that happened to me once. Anyway, the change purse is probably on your desk right now waiting for you to come back”
    Dorothy didn’t want to jeopardize Marylou’s job—not yet. Marylou might still have changed her ways. After all, the change purse could actually still be on Cynthia’s desk. Yes, it could, yes, it could, Dorothy grinned to herself, but she wouldn’t bet on it, not in a million years.
     Not long afterwards, Marylou was dismissed from the other office, and it was pretty obvious what the reason was. Dorothy’s firm welcomed her back with open arms.
    But her behavior had changed in small subtle ways. Things could now be left out in plain sight, until nothing but old age claimed them. However, this change was accompanied by another less welcome change. Marylou’s behavior, although she was as competent and accommodating as ever, was now what one might call more “normal”. Like the others, she worked hard but, unlike her past behavior, she offered nothing and waited to be asked for help. Instead of being outgoing and cheerful in everything she did, she became reserved and quietly reflective.
    However, the attorneys were still delighted with her skills, and, in fact, one day a young attorney who had just joined the firm said, “You know, Marylou, I think you know almost as much about the law as I do. Too bad, you never went to law school”.
    Something happened after this. Marylou was no longer instantly available on evenings and weekends. It appeared that she had decided to act on the young attorney’s observation and was now attending law school. Her grades were so high on graduation that she was immediately offered a position as an assistant district attorney in the federal court, and it soon became apparent that her knowledge of criminal law seemed to be unparalleled by anyone in her division. When asked how she knew so much about the criminal mind, she never seemed to be able to find an answer—it was something that just came to her, like second nature, she said. In due time, as the leading prosecutor in criminal cases for the government, she wrote the definitive book on criminal law and invited everyone in her old office to the book signing. Although Dorothy and the other secretaries in the office knew exactly where Marylou got all her knowledge, they never said a word except among themselves. They just grinned to each other, sort of like honor among thieves.

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