“It cost more than two hundred pounds, Miss Bell. But that is not
the worst of the matter. My aunt stipulated that I should always
wear it as a perpetual reminder of her past kindness and her future
good intentions, and if she misses it I shall lose favour with her
altogether. To lose Miss Mainwaring’s favour means to lose the
splendid fortune which is hers to bequeath, so you see how very
serious the matter is for me. It is, indeed, little short of life
and death, for poverty would kill me now. For God’s sake do your
best for me.”
“But surely, if Miss Mainwaring knows that you could not possibly
have foreseen your loss, she will not be unjust enough to
disinherit you?”
“Indeed she will. She believes me to be vacillating and unreliable,
because I broke off an engagement with a rich man to whom I had but
given a reluctant acceptance, and united myself to the man of my
choice. My husband was poor and therefore beyond the pale of
forgiveness, and my own pardon is only based on the most unswerving
obedience to all my aunt’s injunctions. The pendant came from India,
and the stones in it are said to possess occult power – I wish they
had the power to come back to their rightful owner.”
The speaker heaved a sigh of desperation as she spoke, and I glanced
at her with considerable interest. She was tall, pale, dark-eyed,
and handsome, but her appearance bore certain signs of that
vacillation and carelessness of which her aunt accredited her with
the possession.
The circumstances surrounding the loss of which she complained were
peculiar. She had been spending the evening at the house of the
German Ambassador, and was returning home in Miss Mainwaring’s
carriage, when she became aware of the fact that she had lost the
jewelled pendant which her aunt had given her as a token of
reconciliation when she returned to her after being suddenly widowed.
A frantic search of the carriage bore no results, and Mrs Bevan
hastily told the coachman to return to the embassy. But she
prudently refrained from confiding the particulars of her loss to
him, for she was not quite without hope that it might be remedied.
Madame von Auerbach was, however, able to give her no comfort, for
she had herself suffered in like manner with her guest.
She had lost a valuable diamond-studded watch, and when the most
careful search failed to discover it, the conclusion arrived at was
that some thief must have been present at the reception. It was an
unpleasant conclusion to arrive at. But it was the only natural one.
For the Ambassador’s wife had not left her guests, or gone beyond
the reception rooms, from the time she entered them, wearing the
watch, to the moment when, the last visitors having just gone, she
thought of looking at her watch, and found that it had disappeared.
Mrs Bevan’s return a few moments later with the news that her
pendant had disappeared, confirmed the supposition that some
professional thief must have been at work, and the police were at
once communicated with. They were also strictly enjoined to keep
the matter a profound secret, for various reasons.
But Mrs Bevan was too anxious to rely entirely upon the exertions
of the regular force, hence her application to our firm and her
urgent entreaty that I would act with the utmost despatch.
Soon after my client’s departure I sought an interview with Madame
von Auerbach, but could glean very little useful information. The
invitations had been sent out with great care, but their
exclusiveness was negatived by the fact that they were all sent to
So-and-so and friend. The position of those invited by name had been
considered sufficient guarantee of the perfect suitability of the
friends whom they might select to accompany them to the embassy, and
at least a score of people had been present of whom the hostess
barely heard even their names.
Of course, no one could treat any single one of these individuals as
suspects without some definite suspicion to work upon, and
unfortunately for our prospects of success, there was not the
slightest ground for suspecting anyone in particular.
I was about to quit Madame von Auerbach’s house when a servant
entered with a card upon a waiter, and upon hearing that the name
inscribed thereon was that of one of the guests of the previous
evening, I hastily decided to stay a little longer, and requested
Madame von Auerbach to keep my vocation a secret from her visitor.
The next minute a most bewitching little woman was ushered into the
room.
“Oh, my dear madame!” she exclaimed, with a charming foreign accent.
“Such an unfortunate thing! I lost my beautiful diamond clasp last
night. Have your servants seen anything of it?”
Madame von Auerbach turned pale, and I looked with augmented
interest at the harbinger of this new development of the previous
evening’s mystery. The depredations had evidently been on a large
scale, and the depredators had shown remarkably good taste in the
choice of their spoil. The latest victim was a French lady named
Madame Duchesne, and she waxed eloquent in lamentations over her
loss when it was shown to her how little hope there was of
recovering her diamond clasp.
“And do you know, I feel so terribly upset,” was her pathetic
protest, “that I would give anything not to have had to go on with
my own garden party to-morrow. And I don’t like to say it, but it is
a fact that I may also have included the thief in my invitation, and
it would be awful if more things were to be stolen. Whatever shall
I do?”
As no practical advice seemed to be forthcoming, Madame Duchesne
studied for a moment, and then announced her intention of employing
a detective.
“Not a real, horrid policeman,” she averred, “but one of those
extraordinary individuals who seem able to look through and through
you, and who can find anything out. Private detectives, I think
they call them.”
Madame von Auerbach looked up eagerly, but I gave her a warning
glance which caused her to postpone the revelation of my identity
which she had felt prompted to make.
“Do you know any of these people?” was the Frenchwoman’s appeal to
me. “Can you help me to the address of one?”
“There are several firms of private detectives in London, if we are
to judge from their advertisements,” I answered. “I have heard of
Messrs Bell and White, of Holborn, spoken of as fairly good, but,
of course, there are plenty of others equally good, or probably
better.”
“Bell and White, Holborn. Yes, I will try them. Thank you so much
for helping me. May I ask if you live in London?”
Seizing my cue, Madame von Auerbach promptly came to my assistance.
“I am very angry with Miss Gresham,” she averred. “Since she
resigned her post as governess to the Duke of Solothurn’s children,
she has hardly deigned to take any notice of the numerous friends
she made in Germany. But I mean to make her stay a few days with me,
now that she has come to see me.”
“Then you must bring her with you to my garden party,” said Madame
Duchesne, and the invitation so cleverly angled for was accepted
with a faint pretence of hesitation at the idea of inflicting
myself upon the hospitality of a total stranger.
After Madame Duchesne’s departure I congratulated Madame von Auerbach
very warmly upon her tact and presence of mind, and arranged to
visit the garden party as her friend the next day.
In due course the interesting function was in full swing, and the
fascinating hostess had quite a crowd of guests to look after. My
“guarantor” had left me, at my own request, to my own devices. I
wanted to look about me, and to note all that was going on, without
being too much in evidence myself.
Presently Madame Duchesne approached me with a very mysterious air,
and introduced a very handsome man to my notice. “Don’t be shocked,”
she whispered, “But this is the private detective, Mr Bell. I
communicated with him at once after leaving Madame von Auerbach’s
yesterday, and he is here to watch that no pickpocket secures booty
here. Isn’t it too dreadful to have to take such precautions? I will
never give another party in London!”
I responded to this confidential communication with due sympathy,
and gravely acknowledged the attention my new companion bestowed
upon me for a few moments. And I had need of my gravity and presence
of mind. For the man introduced to me was not my uncle, the
detective. I knew that our firm had not been applied to by Madame
Duchesne, in spite of her assertion to the contrary, and as this was
certainly no one who had ever been in our office, I knew that
certain suspicions that I had formed yesterday were likely to be
verified. Since this stranger was certainly no detective, I concluded
that he was merely posing as one for the sake of diverting suspicion
from the offenders whom I was anxious to run to earth. The assumption
that he was the associate and helpmate of the thieves was also a
very natural one, although a glance at the lovely hostess and her
dainty surroundings almost seemed to belie such a supposition.
But I knew that I was on the right track, and within the hour my
vigilance was rewarded. The sham detective, whose pretended avocation
had been disclosed to none but Madame von Auerbach and myself,
sauntered from group to group, as if intent upon scrutinising their
actions. His real object was to attach their jewellery, and I had
the satisfaction of seeing him possess himself of a costly watch
which Lady A. was wearing in somewhat careless fashion. Instant
denunciation was not my intention. I mean to probe the matter to the
root, and followed “Mr Bell’s” movements with apparent nonchalance.
Presently he culled a couple of beautiful standard roses, and handed
them to Madame Duchesne with a graceful compliment.
The thing was beautifully done, and none but a person keenly on
guard would have noticed that the watch changed hands with the roses.
This little comedy over, Madame sauntered towards the house, and,
five minutes later, I came upon her, quite by accident, of course,
just as she was relocking a dainty cabinet from which she had
taken a fresh bottle of perfume, in the use of which she was very
lavish.
There were two or three other people in Madame’s charming boudoir,
among them being Madame von Auerbach, by whose side I seated myself
with an air of sudden weakness. She was really startled by the
development of events, but she had been previously cautioned, and
played her part very well indeed, when I exclaimed that I felt
dreadfully ill.
“What shall I do?” she cried. “I hope it is not one of your old
attacks.”
“Yes, it is,” I whispered faintly. “Do send for my uncle. He is the
only one who can help me.”
I was promptly placed on the couch, and dosed with all sorts of
amateur remedies, pending the arrival of my uncle, who had been sent
for in hot haste, and who, “entre nous,” was waiting with a police
officer in private clothes for the expected urgent summons. No
sooner did they appear than my indisposition vanished, and I
astonished the bystanders by springing vigorously to my feet.
“Arrest Madame Duchesne,” I cried, “and her accomplice.” Pointing to
the latter, I continued, “That man has stolen Lady A.’s watch, and
it is locked in that cabinet.”
What a scene of confusion there was immediately! Not only Lady A.,
but several other people discovered that they had been robbed, and
the cabinet was found to contain a great quantity of stolen
valuables, among them being Mrs Bevan’s much-prized pendant.
My discovery was only made in the nick of time. In another twelve
hours the birds would have flown, for the real Madame Duchesne, the
lady from whom they had stolen the letters of introduction which had
obtained them the entree to London society, had arrived in London
that day. An accomplice had warned them of the fact, and as they
knew that this garden party they were giving at the gorgeous house
they had hired would be their last opportunity for some time, they
had determined to make a large haul and decamp that same evening.
Luckily for many people, I was able to frustrate their intention. At
present they are lodging in infinitely less luxurious quarters, and
several members of the upper classes are much more careful than
formerly as to whom they associate with by virtue of letters of
introduction.