My vigilant spouse saw this delectable tidbit on MSN.CA this evening (no, it wasn’t me):
“Toronto police are looking for an alleged thief with a taste for the finer, and more expensive, things in life. According to police, a man went into a downtown Toronto LCBO store earlier this month and pulled a rare 50-year-old Glenfiddich Single Malt scotch out of a glass case in the vintage [sic] section. The 700-millilitre bottle worth $26,000 is extremely rare, with only 15 bottles available in Ontario, and 50 worldwide. Police said the man also selected a bottle of wine, which he took the counter and paid for, but left the store without settling up for the scotch. A still image captured by a security camera shows the suspect leaving the store, wine bottle gripped in his left hand, with a trench coat oddly draped across the right side of his body. Police describe the man as white, 35 to 45 years old, 5’10”, clean-shaven with black-framed glasses. He was last seen leaving the store wearing a Burberry plaid shirt, brown hat, brown trench coat, and black jeans.”
Let’s start with the whisky. The Glenfiddich 50-year-old is a fine thing, to be sure. Not a whisky to risk prison for at this time of year, perhaps, in the cruellest month, when old roots stir and the dried tubers stiffen and swell like young zombies. Clearly the thief intends to hang on to the treasure until the nights grow long again and those Dundee cake, dried fruit, candied peel, cool smoky, head-swimming aromas have a more relevant appeal.
And what about the outfit? Does anyone wear a Burberry plaid shirt? Duh..!? An obvious disguise. Clearly he intended to distract the cameras with such a chemise. Even smothered with a brown trench coat (Hugo Boss?) it would be the chav giveaway in the UK and recognisable here by anyone who shops at Harry Rosen. But it’s the black jeans that reveal this perp as a super-criminal. Such an obvious faux pas becomes a challenge, a sartorial glove in the face. Too obvious! He is taunting us! I dare say this überthief wears only Kiton by day, Isaia by night, and seeks to mock the constabulary the way Sir Percy Blakeney mocked Chauvelin by disguising himself as a cackling tricoteuse beside Madame la Guillotine when he was all-the-while renowned as the most elegant dandy in London.
Of course, this deplorable crime is to be condemned! Dem’me, yes. And yet… Were I the judge when this terrible villain is finally brought to dock, I might ask (sternly) what other rare treats he has faginned away under the floorboards of his condominium – and how lustrously they showed, once the stain of being stolen contraband had faded away. And whether they might be tasted in evidence.