“What about the diamonds of the Princess?” asked Miss Baxter, her
curiosity piqued by the remark of the editor.
“That is rather a long story,” replied Mr. Hardwick, “and before I begin
it, I would like to ask you one or two questions. Can you manipulate a
typewriter?”
“That depends on what make it is. The ordinary typewriter I understand
very thoroughly.”
“Good. Have you any knowledge of shorthand?”
“A workable knowledge; I can write about one hundred words a minute.”
“Admirable! admirable! Your coming to this office was indeed an
inspiration, as Mr. Hempstead remarked. You are just the person I have
been looking for.”
“You didn’t seem to think so yesterday, Mr. Hardwick,” said the girl
with a sly glance at him.
“Well, many things have happened since yesterday. We are now dealing
with to-day, and with the Princess von Steinheimer.”
“She is a German princess, of course?”
“An Austrian princess, but an American woman. She was a Miss Briggs of
Chicago; a daughter of Briggs, the railway millionaire, worth somewhere
between twenty and twenty-five millions--dollars, of course. A year or
two ago she married Prince Konrad von Steinheimer; you may remember
having read about it in the papers?”
“Oh, yes; the usual international match--the girl after the title, he
after the money.”
“I suppose so; but be that as it may, she is the only daughter of old
Briggs, and had spent a good deal of her time in Europe, but she spent
more than time; she spent the old man’s money as well, so during her
stay in Europe she accumulated a vast stock of diamonds, some of them
very notable stones. I don’t know what the whole collection is worth,
some say a million dollars, while others say double that amount. However
that may be, Miss Briggs became the Princess von Steinheimer, and
brought to Austria with her a million dollars in gold and the diamonds,
which her father gave as dowry; but, of course, being an only child, she
will come in for the rest of his money when the railway magnate dies.”
“Is he likely to die soon? I don’t suppose the Prince gave himself away
for a mere million.”
“Oh, you forget the diamonds. As to the likelihood of old Briggs’s
death, it didn’t strike me as imminent when I had a conversation with
him yesterday.”
“Yesterday? Is he here in London, then?”
“Yes; he has come over to disentangle the mystery about the diamonds.”
“And what is the mystery? You take a dreadful long time to tell a story,
Mr. Hardwick.”
“The story is important, and it must be told in detail, otherwise you
may go on a long journey for nothing. Are you taking down what I say in
shorthand? That is right, and if you are wise you will not transcribe
your notes so that anyone can read them; they are safer in that form.
The von Steinheimer family have two residences, a house in Vienna and an
ancient castle in the Tyrol, situated on the heights above Meran, a most
picturesque place, I understand; but very shortly you will know more
about it than I do, because the _Bugle_ expects you to go there as its
special correspondent. Here the diamond robbery took place something
like two months ago, and the affair is still as great a mystery as ever.
The Princess was to open the season at Meran, which is a fashionable
resort, by giving a fancy dress ball in Schloss Steinheimer, to which
all the Austrian and foreign notables were invited. It was just before
the ball began that the diamonds were first missed--in fact, the
Princess was about to put them on, she representing some gorgeously
decorated character from the Arabian Nights, when the discovery was made
that the diamonds were gone. She was naturally very much upset over her
loss, and sent at once for the Prince, her husband, insisting that the
police should be notified immediately and detectives called in, as was
perfectly natural. Now here comes a strange feature of the affair, and
this is that the Prince positively forbade any publicity, refusing his
sanction when she demanded that the police should be informed, and yet
the Prince knew better than anyone else the very considerable value of
the stones.”
“What reason did he give for his refusal?” asked Miss Baxter, looking up
from her notes.
“I am not quite certain about that; but I think he said it was _infra
dig._ for the Steinheimers to call in the police. Anyhow, it was an
excuse which did not satisfy the Princess; but as guests were arriving,
and as it was desirable that there should be no commotion to mar the
occasion, the Princess temporarily yielded to the wish of her husband,
and nothing was said publicly about the robbery. The great ball was the
talk of Meran for several days, and no one suspected the private trouble
that was going on underneath this notable event. During these several
days the Princess insisted that the aid of the police should be invoked,
and the Prince was equally strenuous that nothing should be said or done
about the matter. Then, quite unexpectedly, the Prince veered completely
round, and proclaimed that he would engage the best detectives in
Europe. Strange to say, when he announced this decision to his wife, she
had veered round also, and opposed the calling in of the detectives as
strenuously as he had done heretofore.”
“What reason did she give for her change of front?” asked Miss Jennie.
“She said, I believe, that it was now too late; that the thieves,
whoever they were, had had time to make away with their plunder, and
there would merely be a fuss and worry for nothing.”
“Do you know, I am inclined to agree with her,” asserted the girl.
“Are you? Then tell me what you think of the case as far as you have got.”
“What do _you_ think?”
“I sha’n’t tell you at this stage, because I know of further particulars
which I will give you later on. I merely want your opinion now, so that
I may see whether what I have to tell you afterwards modifies it in any
way.”
“Well, to me the case looks decidedly dark against the Prince.”
“That is what Mr. Briggs thinks. He imagines his Highness has the
jewels.”
“Where did you get all these particulars?”
“From Mr. Briggs, who, of course, got them by letter from his daughter.”
“Then we have, as it were, a one-sided statement.”
“Oh, quite so; but still you must remember the Princess does not in the
least suspect her husband of the theft.”
“Well, please go on. What are the further particulars?”
“The further particulars are that the Prince made some quiet
investigations among the servants, and he found that there was a man
who, although he was a friend of his own, was much more the friend of
the Princess, and this man had, on the day the ball was given, the
entire freedom of the castle. He is a young officer and nobleman.
Lieutenant von Schaumberg, and the Prince knew that this young man was
being hard pressed for some debts of honour which he did not appear to
be in a position to liquidate. The young man went unexpectedly to Vienna
the day after the ball, and on his return settled his obligations. The
Princess, from one of her women, got word of her husband’s suspicion.
She went to the Prince at once, and told him she had come to his
own opinion with regard to the lost diamonds. She would, in no
circumstances, have detectives about the place. Then he told her that he
had also changed his mind, and resolved to engage detectives. So here
they were at a deadlock again. She wrote to her father with great
indignation about the Prince’s unjust suspicions, saying von Schaumberg
was a gentleman in every sense of the word. I gather that relations
between herself and her husband are somewhat strained, so I imagine
there is much more in this matter than the lost diamonds.”
“You imagine, then, that she is shielding the Lieutenant?”
“Candidly, I do.”
“And you are of opinion he stole the diamonds?”
“Yes, I am.”
“I don’t agree with you. I still think it was the Prince, and I think
besides this, that he dexterously managed to throw suspicion on the
Lieutenant. Have they called in the detectives yet?”
“No, they are at a deadlock, as I remarked before.”
“Well, what am I expected to do?”
“Mr. Briggs cabled to his daughter--he never writes a letter--that
he would come over and straighten out the tangle in fifteen minutes.
He is certain the Prince stole the diamonds, but he did not
tell his daughter so. He informed her he was bringing her a
present of a new typewriting machine, and also a young woman from
Chicago who could write shorthand and would look after the Princess’s
correspondence--act as secretary, in fact; for it seems the Princess
has a larger correspondence than she can reasonably attend to, and she
appears therefore to yearn for a typewriter. The old man tells me she is
very careless about her letters, never being able to find anything
she wants, and leaving them about a good deal, so he thinks she needs
someone to look after her affairs; and I have a suspicion that her
father fears she may leave some compromising letter about, so he wishes
to ward off a divorce case.”
“No, I fancy you are mistaken there. The father hasn’t the slightest
idea that there can be anything wrong with his daughter. It is probable
the Princess has written some libellous statements about her husband,
and it is quite likely the Prince is a brute and that young von
Schaumberg is a most charming person.”
“Well, as I was saying,” continued Hardwick, “the old man cabled his
daughter that he is bringing her a secretary and a typewriter. He
engaged a female Pinkerton detective to enter the castle as secretary to
the Princess and, if possible, to solve the diamond mystery. She is a
young woman who, when she left Chicago, was very anti-English, but
she became acquainted on the steamer with a young Englishman who was
tremendously taken with her, and so at Liverpool she quite calmly broke
her engagement with the old man and fulfilled a new engagement she had
made with the young man by promptly marrying him--special license, I am
told. Old Briggs has therefore a new typewriting machine on his hands,
and so I was going to propose to you that you take the place of the
Chicago Pinkerton person. Briggs has become so disgusted with all these
detective women that he abandoned the idea of sending a female detective
with the machine, and doesn’t imagine that whoever is sent will be
either a detective or a newspaper woman. I was introduced to him the
other day by one of those lucky chances which sometimes put interesting
items of news in our way, and he told me the whole story, requesting me
to recommend someone who wrote shorthand and understood the typewriter.
I am to dine with him this evening, and I shall cordially recommend you.
I may say that Briggs has gone to that celebrated London detective Mr.
Cadbury Taylor, and has engaged him to solve the diamond mystery. So
you see you will have a clear field. If you can leave for the castle
to-morrow night, you may have the pleasure of Mr. Cadbury Taylor’s
company. He isn’t visiting the castle, but goes straight to Vienna; so
if you work your cards rightly, you can be in the same carriage with
him as far as Munich, and during that time you may find out perhaps what
he thinks about the case. I know only this much about his theory, and
that is he thinks the right place to begin is in Vienna, where some, at
least, of the stones are supposed to have been pawned.”
“Oh, this is a delightful case, and I shall enjoy it. Has there been
anything published yet with reference to the robbery?”
“Not a word; nobody knows anything about it, except the Prince and
Princess, Briggs, myself and yourself, and perhaps one or two of the
servants in the castle--oh, yes, and Cadbury Taylor.”