WHERE THE JEWELS WERE HIDDEN
Hardly had the great ship Majestic dropped anchor at Quarantine
before a customs boat drew up alongside of her. A ladder was
lowered, and up the ladder scrambled the boarding party. This
consisted of several customs men and Willie. The instant Willie
reached the deck, he scurried into the cabin. He did not want to be
seen by any more people than he could help. He presented his letter
to one of the ship’s officers. Immediately he was hustled into the
stewards’ quarters and there he was outfitted like a cabin boy.
But Willie hardly needed to take such precautions to escape
observation. The passengers were in a flutter of excitement. The
usual preparations for debarking were afoot. Many persons were
bustling about saying farewell to acquaintances. Everywhere there
was great activity in the staterooms. Many persons were packing
hand-bags. Some were rolling up steamer rugs and capes. Others were
folding outer coats or pulling them on. Canes, umbrellas, shoes,
veils, hats, and innumerable other objects of apparel were being
collected, so that their owners could debark promptly. No one had
time even to notice cabin boys.
Those who had not filled out the official papers on which they were
to make their customs’ declarations were now working frantically to
get these declarations completed. An exemption of $100 was allowed
each traveler. He might bring in dutiable goods to that amount.
Goods in excess of that sum had to pay the full duty. Always there
was the temptation, when making out these declarations, to
undervalue purchases.
Had these travelers known that awaiting them on the piers were
expert appraisers of the Customs Department, who could tell almost
to a cent what things had probably cost, their sense of honesty
might have been mightily strengthened. But the temptation to avoid
the payment of duty often proved too strong, and many articles were
purposely undervalued in the customs declarations. As Mr. King had
said, many persons of respectability and even of prominence forgot
their consciences when they tried to come ashore with dutiable
goods. So they misrepresented the value of their purchases.
Up to the time these declarations were signed, misstatements could
be corrected and trouble avoided. But once a person had attached his
signature to his declaration, any discrepancies thereafter
discovered in his report might render him liable for smuggling. Up
to the time he signed his declaration, a passenger trying to get
dutiable goods in free was merely planning to commit an illegal act.
Once he had signed, he had committed that illegal act. So the
signing was the crucial point; and many and many an intending
smuggler has betrayed himself by nervousness at this point. Indeed,
many and many a person attempting to smuggle goods ashore has been
caught simply because of his general nervousness. Had Easterly been
here, that is what he would have been watching for—people who were
ill at ease, and particularly would he have been watching Simonski.
Willie had been given the number of Simonski’s stateroom. He hardly
believed he would find the man there, for it was not likely he had
much baggage. Practically everybody not engaged in packing baggage
was on deck, getting a welcome view of old New York again. Willie
suspected Simonski would be there, too. His guess proved to be
correct.
Willie went straight to Simonski’s stateroom, and after listening
intently at his door for a moment, knocked on it. There was no
response. Willie turned the door-knob and pushed. The door opened. A
man’s coat lay on the bed. Close beside the bed was a leather
hand-bag. In a corner stood an umbrella. Evidently the occupant had
everything prepared for a quick debarkation. That didn’t prove
anything, of course, for every home comer was eager to get ashore.
Yet the quicker one could have his luggage examined, the better was
his chance of covering up any little irregularities. With such a
great crowd of passengers to handle, the inspectors would do their
work hastily. Willie fairly itched to open the bag, but he knew it
would be dangerous to touch anything. Simonski might return and
catch him in the act. Then his usefulness would be ended. So he
withdrew from the room and shut the door. He had not touched a
thing. He did not believe Simonski could have any possible way to
tell whether or not any one had entered his room. He wondered if the
reason Simonski had left his door unlocked was to give an
investigator a chance to go through his baggage. A clever rogue
might well do such a thing.
Willie made his way forward, in search of Simonski. The ship was as
busy as a beehive. Passengers were hastening back and forth along
the corridors. Stewards and cabin boys were assisting with the final
packing, and carrying luggage forward toward the gangway. Friends
were calling to one another in loud tones or gathered in groups,
chatting busily. Forward, both within the ship and on the decks,
hundreds of passengers were massed.
Willie moved about through the throng, looking for Simonski. Mr.
King had given him a very clear description of the man, and Willie
had no difficulty in recognizing him when at last he found him. At
least, he saw a man who answered the description exactly.
If Willie had hunted a week to find a word to describe the man, he
could not have found one that better described Simonski than the
Chief’s term, “slick.” It fitted the man in every particular. He had
black, piercing eyes. His hair was carefully cut and slicked down as
though it had been oiled and brushed tight to his scalp. He had had
the cleanest of clean shaves. His hands were spotlessly white, and
his nails were carefully manicured and highly polished. An enormous
diamond sparkled on one finger. His clothes were loud. He wore a
black and white checked suit, with a white edging about the vest,
and a flaming purple tie, which was ornamented with another flashing
diamond. A black, curved handled cane hung from the crook of his
left arm.
But what instantly riveted Willie’s attention was the expression on
the man’s face. The shining eyes gave an impression of almost
uncanny penetration. The nose was of good size, and slightly hooked.
Coupled with the mouth, which was as straight as a slit and as tight
as a steel trap, it indicated unusual force of character. The mouth
itself was as hard as the diamond that glittered beneath it. It was
pitiless. Everything about the man’s make-up indicated a cold, hard,
selfish, unscrupulous, and able nature. As Willie moved about in the
throng, studying the man’s face, now from one point and now from
another, he became more and more certain that the man was not only
utterly unscrupulous, but also daring to a high degree and clever
beyond belief.
With every moment the excitement on the boat increased. The
detention at Quarantine had been brief, and the great ship was now
close to her pier. Every one was making a final collection of wraps
and hand baggage and saying good-bye to shipmates. Stewards and
cabin boys were bustling about more busily than ever, with bags,
suit cases and other hand luggage. As the ship drew close to the
pier, Simonski pushed his way roughly toward the gangway. A cabin
boy followed hard on his heels with his umbrella and bag. While they
waited for the gangplank to be swung into place, Simonski drew forth
a huge roll of bills, and peeling two of them from the outside of
the roll, ostentatiously handed them to the lad with the bag.
Evidently he had used his money to good effect in other quarters as
well, for among the few trunks that had been hoisted to the deck,
for quick delivery ashore, was a steamer trunk that Simonski now
pointed out to the cabin boy. It bore a label marked with the letter
S.
“You stick close to that trunk,” said Simonski. “I’ll get an
inspector at once and bring him to the trunk. I want to get my stuff
passed as quickly as possible. I don’t want to have to hunt for you
and my bag when I’m ready to go. Understand?”
Simonski shoved his way closer to the gangway, and was one of the
very first persons to set foot on the pier. He went directly to the
line of inspectors waiting at their desks. His paper was taken by an
inspector, who glanced at the paper and then at Simonski. Willie was
close by. He saw by the inspector’s look that he knew he had before
him the man they had been warned to watch. The inspector’s lips set
hard. Willie fancied he saw an answering glitter in the eyes of
Simonski. But the traveler was as cool as ice.
“Everything is correct on this declaration, is it?” asked the
inspector.
“Absolutely,” replied Simonski.
“Then sign here,” said the inspector, indicating the place for the
signature.
Simonski’s hand was as steady as Gibraltar as he slowly and
carefully put his signature to the paper.
“We’ll have a look at your baggage,” said the inspector, leading the
way to the S section, where Simonski’s trunk and the faithful cabin
boy were waiting.
Simonski produced his keys and dropped to one knee, to open the
trunk. The cabin boy reached out his hand, to relieve Simonski of
his cane, but the latter laid it on the pier beside his foot. He
unlocked the trunk, picked up his cane, and rose to his feet.
“Go to it,” he said. “The quicker the better. I’m in a hurry.”
The inspector opened the trunk wide. He placed the customs
declaration where he could consult it, and began a systematic
examination of the contents of the trunk. Not an article in the
trunk went unexamined. As soon as he had examined an object, he
piled it on its predecessors on the pier floor. The owner frowned.
“You might think I was trying to smuggle something in, the way you
go through that trunk,” he said testily.
“Perhaps I do think so,” said the inspector.
“Well, satisfy yourself,” said Simonski, in a sarcastic tone.
The inspector made no reply, but continued his search. He questioned
Simonski from time to time as to when and where he got this or that
article. He continued the search until the trunk was entirely empty.
Everything he had taken out of the trunk he had examined in the
closest possible manner, feeling every inch of a garment, opening
pockets, unfolding handkerchiefs, and leaving unsearched absolutely
nothing that could contain even so small a thing as a diamond.
All the while Willie moved about in the crowd, that was now dense,
but always with his eyes on Simonski and the inspector. Now the
latter began an examination of the trunk itself. He felt every inch
of its smooth surface. He hunted for places where the lining might
have been ripped. He thumped the boards to see if they were solid.
He even whipped out a little rule and measured the trunk inside and
out to make sure it had no false bottom or sides. But the trunk
appeared to be flawless. All the while Simonski stood beside the
inspector, as cool as ice. When the search was over, the inspector
motioned to him to repack his trunk. Simonski laid his cane on the
pier, close beside the trunk, and put the things back in place. Then
he locked the trunk, picked up his cane, and coolly hooked it over
his arm again.
“Let’s see that bag,” demanded the inspector.
“Not satisfied yet?” said Simonski in apparent surprise. “All right.
Hand it to him, boy.”
The cabin boy passed over the bag. The inspector searched it with
the same thoroughness he had used in examining the trunk. Nothing
came of the examination.
“Lot of good it did you, didn’t it?” remarked the traveler, with
sarcasm.
Then, turning to the cabin boy, he said, “We’ll be moving now. Get a
taxi for me.”
“Not so fast,” said the inspector. “I’m not done yet. We have reason
to think you have something dutiable with you. If it isn’t in your
baggage, it may be on your person. We’ll have to search you.”
“Very well. Help yourself. Here are my pockets.” And he held up his
arms so the inspector could delve into his coat.
“We don’t examine suspects that way,” said the inspector. “You’ll
have to come with me.”
Simonski, plainly annoyed, turned to give some directions to the
cabin boy. The latter, wishing to earn an even larger fee if
possible, reached for the cane. “I’ll keep it,” he said, “until you
get back.”
Simonski apparently did not hear him, for he turned on his heel and
walked away, with his cane still swinging jauntily on his arm.
Willie was in a quandary. He thought Simonski would be taken to an
office on the pier and searched. He didn’t know whether he himself
would be allowed in the place unless he told who he was. That he did
not want to do. He said nothing but walked along almost abreast of
the inspector. To his surprise, the latter went aboard the ship,
preceded by Simonski. Willie followed hard on their heels. An
officer was near the gangway.
“I want a room to search a suspect,” said the inspector.
“Use one of these staterooms,” said the officer, pointing along the
deck. “They’re all empty now.”
The inspector and his prisoner passed into the ship. Willie
followed. At the first stateroom the inspector threw open the door
and Simonski entered. The inspector noticed Willie, who had followed
close behind them.
“I wish you’d step in here a moment,” he said. “I might need help.”
Willie entered the stateroom and closed the door. “Lock it,” said
the inspector. Willie turned the key.
“Now get your duds off,” said the inspector to Simonski.
The traveler put his cane in the bunk, sat down on the front edge of
the bunk, and began to undress. With absolute thoroughness the
inspector examined every stitch the man handed him. He pressed every
inch of cloth between his finger and his thumb, but nothing larger
than a grain of dust could be felt. The most careful search failed
to reveal a single thing that seemed suspicious.
“Put your clothes on,” said the inspector. Then he stepped out in
the corridor, followed by Willie. The latter hesitated a moment,
then told the inspector who he was.
“I knew who you were,” said the inspector.
Willie gasped with surprise. “How did you know?” he asked.
“Mr. King telephoned up about you so you wouldn’t be ordered off the
pier. When I saw a cabin boy hanging around while I was going
through that bird’s stuff, I knew well enough who you were.”
“What are we going to do about Simonski?” inquired Willie.
“Nothing. Let him go. We haven’t a thing on which we can hold him.
Just the same I believe he has smuggled some stuff through in some
way.”
Willie went to a near-by stateroom and sat down. He felt certain the
man he had been watching was a smuggler. Something seemed to tell
him that despite the search the man had diamonds. Where could he
possibly have them hidden?
Willie closed his eyes and thought. In his mind he reviewed every
movement he had made since Willie first saw him. That wonderful,
photographic quality of mind stood him in good stead. He could see
Simonski’s every move. He thought of him as he had first seen him,
immediately after he, Willie, had peeped at Simonski’s baggage in
his stateroom. He could see the fellow plainly, moving about the
ship, with his little cane swinging jauntily from his arm. He saw
him unlocking his trunk, with the cane lying on the pier before him.
He saw him once more, the cane at his feet, repacking the trunk.
Again he visualized him, as he turned away to go to the ship to be
searched, apparently too indignant to hear the cabin boy’s proffer
to relieve him of his cane. Then he saw the search—the cane laid
carefully in the back of the bunk, and the man pulling off his
shoes, as he sat in front of it. It was queer how that cane seemed
to stick out in every picture.
Suddenly Willie leaped to his feet. “The diamonds are in the cane,”
he cried. “That’s why he was so careful of it. He didn’t care a rap
about anything else. But he guarded that cane like grim death.”
He darted out of the stateroom. The inspector and Simonski were just
disappearing down the corridor.
“Hold that man,” he cried. “Don’t let him get off the ship. I know
where his diamonds are.”
Both men turned sharp about. “Hold on a moment,” said the inspector
to Simonski.
“I am tired of this monkey business,” said Simonski. “You’ve
searched me. There’s nothing dutiable on me. You have no right to
keep me any longer.” And he turned and hurried toward the gangway. A
sudden anger seemed to take possession of him.
“Stop him!” cried Willie. “The diamonds are in his cane.”
The inspector leaped to the side of Simonski. “Stop!” he said.
“Don’t you touch me,” rejoined Simonski. His eyes glittered like a
snake’s.
The inspector grabbed him. Simonski tried to wrench loose. They
clutched each other savagely. The little cane was caught between
their swaying bodies. Suddenly it broke in half with a snap like a
pistol. Then the pieces clattered to the floor. Willie rushed
forward and picked them up. The cane was hollow. Something white
showed within it. Willie thrust a match down into the hollow and
worked the white thing out. It was cotton. Wrapped within it, in a
long, thin roll, was diamond after diamond.