Ida Mae loved to shop, but more than that, she loved to steal. Her thievery was not out of necessity. Her husband was a successful insurance man. There was enough money for anything she really needed. A psychiatrist would call her a kleptomaniac.

Many of the merchants at the mall knew about Ida Mae’s problem. Most of them would make notes of what she took and send a bill to her husband. He always paid his bills promptly.

Ida Mae met her match with the owner of a novelty shop. Mr. Gregory watched in a surveillance mirror as Ida Mae worked her hand inside a display case and took an expensive watch.

The owner called the cops and then grabbed Ida Mae by the wrist and held her until the police arrived. That’s usually not the smart thing to do in these cases, but Mr. Gregory got away with it this time.

Two uniformed cops took Ida Mae to the county lock-up where she was fingerprinted, photographed and booked. She spent five hours in a holding cell until the next magistrate’s bond hearing.

By this time, Ida Mae’s husband was in court to arrange for payment of the required bond. Soon after that the couple was back in their home in a very fashionable neighborhood.

Less than an hour later, cops came knocking at the door. One went to the front door and the other to the back of the house.

"We’ve been informed that your wife stole some property from the jail," the first cop tells the husband.

"That’s ridiculous," says the husband, "my wife wouldn’t be stupid enough to take anything from the jail."

At that moment, the second cop announces on the two-way police radio: "I’m at the back door and I can see the object in question on the kitchen table."

Moments later, everybody gathers in the kitchen. There it is on the kitchen table — the stolen object named in the arrest warrant — the camera used to take prisoner mug shots at the county jail.