Thanks again to 
Ironwood Hamilton, captain of police in Tinyville, VA, shook his iron-gray head and put his hand over his iron-gray eyes.
“It's one thing when you watch a crime wave slowly heading toward your town. It's another thing when you realize the enemy is already within your gates.”
Captain Hamliton's army mentor, retired from the Judge Advocate General service after 20 years there, also shook his head.
“The world's dumbest criminals,” said Major Jean-Paul Philippe Dubois, “still do not fully understand how Facebook works.”
For weeks, Captain Hamilton had been tracking a wave of burglaries in southern Virginia, and was dismayed to discover that the wave was not coming from outside Lofton County, VA, in which Tinyville sat. Jesse Clyde James had just decided to work closer to home.
The discovery had come because Bonnie James had started boasting on Facebook about the ruby jewelry and matching shoes her brother Jesse Clyde had gotten her. Those items had been burglarized out of the home of some rich vacationers in an unincorporated and ritzy portion of the county the previous week. Further examination of family photos showed where all the stolen money and goods from across Virginia had gone, over the last decade.
“So, Jesse Clyde is a serial burglar who tracks people's Facebook pages to see when they are on vacation,” Captain Hamilton said, “but he hasn't told his family to stop flexing on Facebook.”
“Money laundering, receipt of stolen property, and conversion – the whole family is involved,” Major Dubois said. “You're going to need to consult with the sheriff and get warrants for the whole family.”
Major Dubois saw the anguish in Captain Hamilton's face, and his heart went out to his friend. Captain Hamilton had come home to Tinyville and was clearing up the local crime and criminals, but was paying the personal price for it … everyone knew everyone in Tinyville.
Yet old Sheriff John Nottingham dismissed the captain's information immediately.
“Y'all whipper-snappers need to leave Fussbook alone – ain't nothin' real goin' on, on there!”
Captain Hamilton explained the state of the investigation and faxed over the photographs he had printed, and then got “fussed” out after the sheriff cried, “I've known the James family for 60 years!”
“I'm not asking you to agree with me,” Captain Hamilton said when the sheriff had to stop to breathe. “I'm asking you to consider the evidence.”
“I told you Fussbook ain't real!”
“I'll make it real to you, sir. Just be ready to get those warrants Monday.”
Captain Hamilton hung up the phone and smiled at Major Dubois.
“How would your family like to put on your Mardi Gras best and talk about the all-expense-paid weekend vacation this department is going to send you on for helping out?”
“Sounds like fun,” Major Dubois said. “What will you and I be doing in town?”
“Bonnie James's birthday is coming up. We want her to get the right gift.”
Captain Hamilton picked up the phone again.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Windsor. Captain Hamilton here. How would you like to have your great-great-great-grandmother's famous jade necklace make some more history?”
Captain Hamilton went to pick up the necklace while Major Dubois went home to his family and explained the plan. The Dubois family put on a grand show for Facebook, including lovely old Madame Ébène-Cerise Dubois wearing that jade necklace, while Major Dubois put up the hidden cameras for the real show that weekend.
One week later, Captain Hamilton, Lieutenant Duncan, Sheriff Nottingham, and Major Dubois were all standing outside the big James house in the ritziest neighborhood in Tinyville.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you ... .”
The sweet song drifted out, but Ironwood Hamilton was in no celebratory mood. He had expressed his frustration to Major Dubois when they had scoped out the new house: “You taught me about the limitations of small-time criminal thinking, and here we see: they have sold their future down the river just to move to the ritziest neighborhood in the same town, just a little further down the street!”
Lieutenant O'Reilly of Tinyville's three-man force was inside undercover as the photographer hired for the event. His digital cameras captured all kinds of visual and audio evidence, right up to the moment in which Jesse Clyde described “liberating” the priceless jade necklace from “the uppityest dandy Negroes ever to come on Facebook in this town,” and put that necklace around Bonnie's neck.
In the next moment, the law men moved in on the whole family, all of whom were stunned.
“But you know us – come on, Woody! Uncle John! Come on!”
“That's why I had to come get you,” Captain Hamilton said, “because I do know you and I care.”
“You oughta thank God he cares!” Sheriff Nottingham said. “I know you and I would have hurt all of you! Who told you to put your stolen goods up on Fussbook so your old Uncle John could be forced to arrest you? I'd whip all of you myself, but bleeding-heart Hamilton here won't have it!”
Sheriff Nottingham had noticed in passing what only Major Dubois would see in full, later on.
“The James family lived down the road when I was growing up,” Captain Hamilton explained, “and I remember my mother saying to Mrs. James, 'Your children may come play with mine here, but I will not be sending my children to be under the care of a household whose children are named for Jesse James, Bonnie, and Clyde for any amount of time!' She called it, 38 years in advance, and would be heartbroken!”
The heartbreak of Mrs. Hamilton's son manifested itself then, as tears flowed down his face.