Hsiao Bi-khim, a former Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) lawmaker, lost her folding bicycle the other day. It was stolen in front of the courthouse in the vaingloriously rich city of Taipei. The bicycle thief wasn't caught. He -- let's presume the thief is a man -- must be a "professional." It didn't take much time for him to ride away with the vehicle, which Hsiao said was worth some NT$9,000 or a little less than 300 bucks.

She was bitter, though. She had to go to the Taipei District Court, together with two other ex-legislators, where they complained about the continued detention of their comrade of yore, Chiou I-jen. Chiou, former secretary-general of the National Security Council, was arrested on embezzlement charges last Oct. 31 and held incommunicado at the Taipei detention house at Tucheng. They went in and filed complaints for about half an hour. When they came out of the courthouse, she found her locked bike gone. The theft was committed in the broad daylight when there usually is pretty heavy pedestrian traffic.

Bicycle theft is an increasingly frequent daily occurrence in Taipei, where more people are riding the two-wheeled "iron horse" with the persistent government encouragement to help cut greenhouse gas emissions. Incidentally, the iron horse is the most popular Hoklo term to name the bicycle, which is called "pedaling vehicle" in Mandarin. In fact, the Taipei municipal government has painted quite a number of bicycle lanes and otherwise improved many a city district to promote the health-inducing, environment-friendly green sport-come-commuting convenience in the hope that iron horses may drive out the ubiquitous motorscooters in the not-too-distant future.

One thing is missing, however. Owners have few safe parking places. Time was when iron horses were a highly prized means of transportation in Taipei. Those were the days when the people saw scooters only on the movie screen and television had yet to make a debut. Taiwan then had no factories to build bicycles and those on the road were imports from Japan and the United Kingdom. Schools and offices had adequately large places paved and covered for bicycles, some of them often left unlocked. Owners were not worried for two reasons: There used to be someone hired for watching the parked iron horses, and there were few bicycle thieves.

Law and order have fast deteriorated over the past 60 years -- to the extent that Su Tzeng-chang, on appointment as premier by President Chen Shui-bian, vowed to step down if the people could not be made to feel safe at home or in the street in six months. They felt less safe half a year later, but the politician of the now opposition party didn't resign. The change of government in May this year has brought the people no respite. Hsiao certainly can't blame Su for quitting as premier to run for vice president.

The chances are that more amateur iron horse rustlers will turn professional as recession deepens. Isn't it time for schools and offices to build bicycle sheds and hire unemployed workers to keep an eye on the parked iron horses?