GEMS OR PASTE?
It was a dramatic moment, especially for Claire and Jack, who fully
appreciated the peril in which Carrington stood. The fact was not
hidden to them that Carrington's excuse to Claire was but an ingenious
way out of a terrible difficulty. On more than one occasion Claire had
herself fetched her jewels from the bank, and no objections had been
raised. Still, Carrington was clearly within his legal right, and Jack
could not but admire the swiftness with which he had got himself out
of the tangle. His own face was a model of absolute indifference; he
just glanced at Claire to see if she expressed any suspicion. But
Claire smiled in a way so natural and artless that Jack had no fears
of her for the future.
With Lady Barmouth, however, it was quite a different matter. As yet,
she knew nothing of the terrible straits in which Carrington found
himself involved. She had come down for her jewels in the ordinary
way, as she had done many times before, and expected to take them away
with her. Carrington affected to be talking to somebody down the
speaking tube, but in reality he was fighting to gain time and work
out some ingenious excuse. Jack enjoyed his dismay with a feeling of
grim satisfaction. But Carrington was not quite done with yet;
evidently he had not sat at the feet of Anstruther for nothing. He
looked up presently, and smiled with the air of a man who is only too
willing to do anything for his client.
"Will you take a seat for a moment, Lady Barmouth?" he said politely.
"I see that you know Miss Helmsley and Mr. Masefield. I must go and
speak to our cashier for a moment."
"You cannot get the jewels yourself?" Lady Barmouth asked.
"No," Carrington explained. "Of course, we are bound to take
precautions. I have no more power to open one of the safes by myself
than one of my junior clerks."
"That would be awkward if you wanted anything out of bank hours," Jack
suggested. "How do you manage then?"
"Well, we simply don't manage," Carrington said. He was quite himself
again by this time. "I can no more get into the strong room that you
could. I should have to get the manager and chief cashier before a
safe could be opened."
All this sounded plausible enough, as Jack was bound to admit.
Carrington went off with a jaunty step, as if he had all the millions
of the Bank of England behind him. Jack wondered how he would get out
of the mess. But the solution of the puzzle was quite easy. Carrington
came back with a look of annoyance on his face.
"I am exceedingly sorry, Lady Barmouth," he apologized. "The fact is,
Mr. Perkins has been called away on important business to our West-End
branch. He cannot possibly get back in less than an hour. Do you want
your jewels in such a hurry?"
Lady Barmouth was fain to confess that she didn't. She would not
require them till the following evening; only some time must
necessarily be spent in the cleaning of them.
"Plenty of time for that," Carrington smiled. "I will send a special
messenger in a cab to bring the cases to your house by lunch time. I
hope that will be convenient to you."
Lady Barmouth, innocent of the part which she was playing in the
comedy, replied that that arrangement would suit her exceedingly well;
indeed, she was sorry to give so much trouble. She swept out of the
bank parlor, followed by Jack and Claire. A well-appointed brougham
stood outside, and she smilingly offered her companions a lift.
"I am going to take Claire back to lunch with me," she said. "Can I
set you down anywhere, Mr. Masefield?"
"You can set me down, if you please, on you own door-step," Jack
smiled. "As a matter of fact, I was just going to see Lord Barmouth,
and now I have something serious to say to you. Were you satisfied
just now? About the jewels, I mean?"
Lady Barmouth looked puzzled as Jack followed her into the brougham.
She saw nothing, so she said, to arouse any suspicions, except that
she thought a needless fuss had been made over her gems. She was still
discussing the matter, when the brougham reached Belgrave Square, and
the three alighted. Once they were in the drawing-room, Lady Barmouth
turned to Jack and asked him what he meant. He shook his head
doubtfully.
"I am afraid I am going to upset you very much," he said. "But unless
I am greatly mistaken, you are never likely to see your diamonds
again."
Lady Barmouth stared open-mouthed at the speaker. She explained that
her diamonds were of great value; indeed, some of the stones were
historic. Those diamonds had often been mentioned in personal
paragraphs, which are such a feature in the modern newspaper, and Jack
recollected a description of them perfectly well. He proceeded to
explain, at considerable length, the history of his last night's
adventure. Lady Barmouth's face grew still more grave when at length
the recital was finished.
"This is a very serious matter." she said. "Do you know this is likely
to cost Lord Barmouth something like fifty thousand pounds? The City
and Provincial Bank does a good deal of business with people well
known in Society, and I am afraid many of us will be involved. What do
you suppose has become of those diamonds, Mr. Masefield?"
"They have been pawned, of course," Jack said. "Carrington has taken
that dreadful risk in the desperate hope of retrieving his position.
But the whole scandal is bound to become public property before eight
and forty hours have passed."
There was nothing for it now but to wait and see what time would bring
forth. Lord Barmouth was not yet down; indeed, his man said that he
would not appear till after luncheon. But there was no lack of
animated conversation in the drawing-room, and the discussion was
continued till the gong rang for lunch.
"I tell you what I think the best thing to do," Lady Barmouth said, as
Jack held the drawing-room door open for her. "You are a barrister,
and accustomed to deal with legal matters. If those stones fail to
arrive by half-past two, I will give you my written authority, and you
shall take it to the bank and insist upon something definite being
done."
Luncheon was a thing of the past, and it was getting on towards three
o'clock, when a cab drove up to the door, and a footman announced the
fact that a gentleman from the City and Provincial Bank desired to see
Lady Barmouth. She returned presently, beaming with smiles, and
announced that Jack had been mistaken; for the gems had not only been
delivered, but had also been handed over to the speaker's maid.
Slightly taken aback, Jack expressed a natural curious desire to see
the stones in question. Lady Barmouth rang the bell, and presently a
smart French maid appeared, bearing four shabby-looking cases in her
hand. They were laid on the table, and Jack suggested that Lady
Barmouth should open one of them.
"I see you are still suspicious." she smiled. "Evidently things were
not so desperate with Mr. Carrington as you appear to imagine. What do
you think of those?"
With pardonable pride, Lady Barmouth lifted the cover of one of the
cases and displayed the flashing contents to Claire's admiring eyes. A
livid stream of flame dazzled and blinked in the sunshine. Claire's
cry of delight was echoed by an exclamation of astonishment from Lady
Barmouth.
"There is some extraordinary mistake here." she said. "I admit that
these stones are exceedingly beautiful, but, unfortunately, they are
not mine at all. They look to me much more like the property of the
Duchess of Birmingham. I have no pearls or emeralds--my jewels are all
diamonds and sapphires. The cases must have been changed; a mistake
easily accounted for, as they are both green wraps."
But Jack was not in the least convinced. This was some desperate
expedient to lull Lady Barmouth's suspicions to sleep for the time.
And doubtless Carrington had gone off hot foot to Anstruther, and
implored him to find some way out of the terrible difficulty. Another
idea occurred to Jack, but this he did not dare to mention for the
present--it was too suggestive of a situation from some melodrama.
"I think I can explain the whole thing," he said. "But, first of all,
I should like to take Lord Barmouth's opinion on the matter. Probably
he has finished his own lunch by this time. Will you see if he is
ready to receive me?"
Lord Barmouth was glad enough to see Jack, and welcomed him quite
cordially. Then Jack laid the jewel cases upon the table, and
proceeded to relate once more the story of last night's happenings. He
concluded with a description of his visit to Carrington, and
epitomized the incident of the changed jewels.
"Certainly a most extraordinary thing," Barmouth said. "I rather
gather from the expression of your face that you have some solution to
offer."
"Indeed I have," Jack said eagerly. "This is merely a trick to gain
time, and an exceedingly clever trick, too. Carrington had naturally
assumed that we know nothing of his desperate position. If we were in
the dark on that point, the mistake would look exceedingly natural.
But, knowing what we do, the situation is entirely changed. I don't
believe those are the Duchess of Birmingham's diamonds--I don't
believe they are diamonds at all."
"By Jove! You have hit it exactly," Barmouth cried. "What a really
magnificent idea! Carrington has no diamonds; therefore he lays out,
say, a couple of hundred pounds in some showy-looking paste, and sends
them round here as my wife's gems. She, absolutely innocent of any
deception, sends them back and asks to have the mistake rectified.
Back from the bank comes a polite note of regret apologizing for the
mistake, and promising the proper stones for to-morrow, the cashier
having left for the day."
"Exactly my idea," Jack cried. "But we can soon settle that, Lord
Barmouth. You have only to telephone to your family jeweler, and ask
him to step round here for a moment."
Barmouth fell in with the suggestion at once, and a telephone message
was dispatched to the famous firm of Flint & Co., in Bond Street. Mr.
Flint himself arrived a few minutes later, and the dubious gems were
laid before him. He had not the slightest hesitation in giving his
verdict.
"Paste, my lord," he said briefly, "and pretty poor stuff at that. I
can see that, even in this dim light. See how dull these stones are!
Real gems, even in semi-gloom, shimmer and sparkle, but these don't
show up at all. The whole lot did not cost more than two hundred
pounds; in fact, these things are little better than stage jewels."
"Can you tell us where they come from?" Jack asked.
"Certainly I can, sir," Mr. Flint replied, promptly. "There are
occasions when clients of ours are compelled to exchange the real for
the false. In cases like that we go to Osmond & Co., of Clerkenwell,
where these came from. I hope there is nothing wrong."
Barmouth said politely that that matter could be discussed on a future
occasion. He would not detain Mr. Flint any more for the present, and
the latter bowed himself out of the room.
"What do you propose to do now?" Barmouth asked.
"Well, with your permission, I propose to strike while the iron is
hot," Jack said. "It is quite evident that this rubbish has been
purchased very recently from Osmond's. If you will allow me to do so,
I will go at once with the cases to Clerkenwell, and ascertain the
purchaser. If we can bring Carrington to book promptly, we may recover
Lady Barmouth's jewels yet."
Barmouth had nothing to say except in praise of this suggestion.
Accordingly, Jack set off in a cab for Clerkenwell, where he had no
difficulty in finding the fine business premises of Osmond & Co. He
lost no time in diplomacy, but proceeded to lay the whole matter
before the head of the firm.
"You will see there is something very wrong here," he said. "This
manufacture of yours has been deliberately substituted for some
valuable gems belonging to a lady whose name I am not at liberty to
divulge for the present. Mr. Flint, of Bond Street, says that the
paste has been purchased from you. We have absolute proof of the fact
that the stuff was bought during the past two hours. I shall be glad
if you will tell me the name of the purchaser. I don't suppose the
stuff was booked.
"Mr. Osmond explained that theirs was practically a cash business. A
few inquiries elicited the fact that the paste had been bought about
two hours before by a tall, slim gentleman, who had driven up in a
hansom cab. There was another gentleman in the cab, but he had not
entered the shop.
"Were the jewels paid for in cash?" Jack asked.
They had not been paid for in hard cash, the cashier explained. The
bill had come to two hundred pounds altogether, and had been made out
to a Mr. Morrison. He had paid for them with twenty ten-pound notes in
a most businesslike way, and gone away again--the whole thing not
having taken more than five minutes. Jack suggested that he would like
to see the notes. They were fresh and clean, but across the face of
all of them was a circular blue mark bearing the words, "City and
provincial Bank!"