The Snowball Caper

No one watching Matt crouching at the net, completely focused, would ever imagine that only 90 minutes ago, he had held up a convenience store. Using a Smith and Wesson 38, he got away with one hundred and twenty-two dollars. He also pushed a customer out of the way so he could swipe two packages of Hostess Snowballs, his favorite snack.

If the men he played tennis with discovered he’d committed a crime, not a single one of them would believe it for a moment. Matt was a mild mannered, quiet man. He was short and thin, with an olive complexion. He always seemed to have a tan. At his wife’s urging, he retired early. Thanks to his fifteen Smoothie Luv franchise units in west Texas, Matt was a wealthy man. He sold the stores and bought a beautiful, adobe style, single story home in Waco. His wife insisted on adding a pool and a guesthouse.  But since his retirement, he was often bored, even morose at times. He took up tennis to give himself something to do.

Matt’s partner served out wide to the receiver, prompting Matt to move toward the center of the court. He intercepted the ball and promptly hit it into the net, losing the point. He turned to look at his partner and said, “I’ll get the next one Steve, promise.”

Back at the convenience store, the Waco cops took a close look at the video of the robbery. The suspect wore a long beard and mustache, horn rimmed glasses and a plain red ball cap. The parking lot camera captured a partial, but clear picture of the getaway car, a late model, red, Lexus. The license plate was covered by duct tape. The car had no other decals that might help identify its owner. However, there was one potential clue. Roman, the lead officer asked his partner Stu, “You notice anything in the rear window? Take a real close look.”

“Yeah, looks like a bag. What’s that letter on it? I can’t make it out,” Stu said. “Let’s get the lab to blow it up. It isn’t much, but it could be something.”

When the tennis match ended, Matt wiped his head with his towel. He looked over at his partner. “I’ll do better Wednesday, Steve.”

“Forget it. I didn’t help much today.”

“You kept us in the match, my friend. Here, I have one more snowball. Take it.”

“I never touch the stuff.”

That afternoon the photo lab identified the bag in the suspect’s car as a tennis bag. The letter on the bag was a “W” for Wilson, a top manufacturer of tennis equipment. “So, we got a guy who drives a red Lexus and plays tennis,” Roman said.

“Maybe, let’s hit the courts, first thing tomorrow morning,” Stu said.

“Yeah, it’s worth a try,” Roman said, but he wasn’t hopeful.   

On Wednesday morning, two days after the robbery, Matt, wearing his favorite red ballcap, tossed the ball in the air to serve and promptly hit the ball too long.  He was about to hit his second serve when he noticed a patrol car in the parking lot, sitting in front of his red Lexus. “Let’s go, Matt, second serve,” someone said. But Matt was watching two patrolmen inspect his car. The other players turned to see what Matt was looking at. “Uh-oh, you didn’t pay your parking tickets, Matt. You’re in trouble now, slick,” Steve said.  

Matt didn’t say a word. Down Love – 40, he calmly hit a wicked spin serve that went wide, a double fault that ended the game and the first set. As the players walked to the bench, preparing to switch sides, Roman and Stu walked onto the court. “Any of you gentlemen own that red Lexus out there?” Roman asked.

“I do, officer. Is there a problem?” Matt asked.

“Might be. Can I see some identification, please?” Matt reached into his bag, the one with the big red “W” on it, pulled out his wallet and handed it to the officer. “Matthew Carson,” the officer said.

Matt nodded. “What’s up?”

Stu pulled a large print from his folder and handed it to Matt. The “W” on the bag was easy to see. He pointed to Matt’s bag and jerked his thumb back to where the Lexus was parked. “Did you rob the Carronbridge convenience store Monday morning?”

That’s when Steve, a retired attorney, spoke up. “Don’t say another word Matt. Officer, I’m an attorney and unless you have something other than a photo, I’d suggest you get back to work.”   

Roman ignored Steve. “Mind if we look in your tennis bag, Mr. Carson?”

“Do you have a search warrant?” Steve asked.

“It’s okay, Steve. Let’s get this over with,” Matt said. The other men stood there, staring at Roman while he searched Matt’s bag.

“Stu, check this out,” Roman said. He pulled out a package of Hostess Snowballs.

“That’s enough, let’s take him in,” Stu said.

“Not so fast,” Steve said. “I don’t think a package of Hostess Snowballs is exactly probable cause.”

The officers looked at Matt who smiled. “It was just something on my bucket list guys. No harm done. I’ll return the money, pay a fine whatever. I’m not a crook.”

His friends looked on in disbelief. Steve spoke, “Your bucket list? An armed robbery is on your bucket list?”

“My stores got hit a lot,” Matt said. “Usually, the thief got caught. At some point, I started thinking about how I would do it.”

“You’re crazy, you know that?” Steve said. The others nodded in agreement.

Matt picked up his tennis bag. “I was careful. I didn’t think I’d get caught.”

“You made a mistake taking those snowballs,” Roman said. “Unless prison time is on your bucket list too, that is.”

Matt shrugged. “My tennis game is lousy anyway.”