"Knew you'd think me impertinent; but it is some of my business, really.
I can explain to your satisfaction. You see"--the purser stepped nearer
and lowered his voice guardedly--"I was wondering if you had much
personal influence with Miss Landis. I've just had a bit of a chat with
her, and she won't listen to reason, you know, about that collar."
"Collar?" Staff repeated stupidly.
"The Cadogan collar, you know--some silly pearl necklace worth a king's
ransom. She bought it in Paris--Miss Landis did; at least, so the report
runs; and she doesn't deny it, as a matter of fact. Naturally that
worries me; it's a rather tempting proposition to leave lying round a
stateroom; and I asked her just now to let me take care of it for
her--put it in my safe, you know. It'd be a devilish nasty thing for
the ship, to have it stolen." The purser paused for effect. "Would you
believe it? She wouldn't listen to me! Told me she was quite capable of
taking care of her own property! Now if you know her well enough to say
the right word ... it'd be a weight off my mind, I can tell you!"
"Yes, I can imagine so," said Staff thoughtfully. "But--what makes you
think there's any possibility--"
"Well, one never knows what sort of people the ship carries--as a rule,
that is. But in this instance I've got good reason to believe there's at
least one man aboard who wouldn't mind lifting that collar; and he's
keen enough to do it prettily, too, if what they tell of him is true."
"Now you're getting interesting. Who is this man?"
"Oh, quite the swell mobsman--Raffles and Arsene Lupin and all that sort
of thing rolled into one. His name's Ismay--Arbuthnot Ismay.
Clever--wonderful, they say; the police have never been able to fasten
anything on him, though he's been known to boast of his jobs in
advance."
"You told Miss Landis this?"
"Certainly--and she laughed."
This seemed quite credible of the lady. Staff considered the situation
seriously for a moment or two.
"I'll do what I can," he said at length; "though I'm not hopeful of
making her see it from your point of view. Still, I will speak to her."
"That's good of you, I'm sure. You couldn't do more."
"You're positive about this Ismay?" Staff pursued. "You couldn't be
mistaken?"
"Not I," asserted the purser confidently. "He crossed with us last
year--the time Mrs. Burden Hamman's jewels disappeared. Ismay, of
course, was suspected, but managed to prove every kind of an alibi."
"Queer you should let him book a second time," commented Staff.
"Rather; but he's changed his name, and I don't imagine the chaps in
Cockspur Street know him by sight."
"What name does he travel under now?"
The purser smiled softly to himself. "I fancy you won't be pleased to
learn it," said he. "He's down on the passenger-list as Iff--W. H.
Iff."
V