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Title: The Duchess of Wiltshire's Diamonds Author: Guy Boothby * A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook * eBook No.: 0600411h.html Language: English Date first posted: Apr 2006 Most recent update: Nov 2018 This eBook was produced by Roy Glashan. Project Gutenberg of Australia eBooks are created from printed editions which are in the public domain in Australia, unless a copyright notice is included. We do NOT keep any eBooks in compliance with a particular paper edition. Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing this file. This eBook is made available at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg of Australia License which may be viewed online at http://gutenberg.net.au/licence.html To contact Project Gutenberg of Australia go to http://gutenberg.net.auGO TO Project Gutenberg Australia HOME PAGE
"A Prince of Swindlers," Ward, Locke & Co.,
London, 1900.
A poster setting forth the name of the now famous detective, Klimo.
Simon Carne, leaning forward, studied it, and when they had
passed, turned to his friend again.
"At Victoria and on all the hoardings we meet I see an
enormous placard, bearing the word 'Klimo.' Pray, what does it
mean?"
His lordship laughed.
"You are asking a question which, a month ago, was on the lips
of nine out of every ten Londoners. It is only within the last
fortnight that we have learned who and what 'Klimo' is."
"And pray what is he?"
"Well, the explanation is very simple. He is neither more nor
less than a remarkably astute private detective, who has
succeeded in attracting notice in such a way that half London has
been induced to patronise him. I have had no dealings with the
man myself. But a friend of mine, Lord Orpington, has been the
victim of a most audacious burglary, and, the police having
failed to solve the mystery, he has called Klimo in. We shall
therefore see what he can do before many days are past. But,
there, I expect you will soon know more about him than any of
us."
"Indeed! And why?"
"For the simple reason that he has taken No. 1, Belverton
Terrace, the house adjoining your own, and sees his clients
there."
Simon Carne pursed up his lips, and appeared to be considering
something.
"I trust he will not prove a nuisance," he said at last. "The
agents who found me the house should have acquainted me with the
fact. Private detectives, on however large a scale, scarcely
strike one as the most desirable of neighbours—particularly
for a man who is so fond of quiet as myself."
At this moment they were approaching their destination. As the
carriage passed Belverton Street and pulled up, Lord Amberley
pointed to a long line of vehicles standing before the
detective's door.
"You can see for yourself something of the business he does,"
he said. "Those are the carriages of his clients, and it is
probable that twice as many have arrived on foot."
"I shall certainly speak to the agent on the subject," said
Carne, with a shadow of annoyance upon his face. "I consider the
fact of this man's being so close to me a serious drawback to the
house."
Jowur Singh here descended from the box and opened the door in
order that his master and his guest might alight, while portly
Ram Gafur, the butler, came down the steps and salaamed before
them with Oriental obsequiousness. Carne greeted his domestics
with kindly condescension, and then, accompanied by the ex-
Viceroy, entered his new abode.
"I think you may congratulate yourself upon having secured one
of the most desirable residences in London," said his lordship
ten minutes or so later, when they had explored the principal
rooms.
"I am very glad to hear you say so," said Carne. "I trust your
lordship will remember that you will always be welcome in the
house as long as I am its owner."'
"It is very kind of you to say so," returned Lord Amberley
warmly. "I shall look forward to some months of pleasant
intercourse. And now I must be going. To-morrow, perhaps, if you
have nothing better to do, you will give us the pleasure of your
company at dinner. Your fame has already gone abroad, and we
shall ask one or two nice people to meet you, including my
brother and sister-in-law. Lord and Lady Gelpington, Lord and
Lady Orpington, and my cousin, the Duchess of Wiltshire, whose
interest in China and Indian Art, as perhaps you know, is only
second to your own."
"I shall be most glad to come."
"We may count on seeing you in Eaton Square, then, at eight
o'clock?"
"If I am alive you may be sure I shall be there. Must you
really go? Then good-bye, and many thanks for meeting me."
His lordship having left the house Simon Carne went upstairs
to his dressing room, which it was to be noticed he found without
inquiry, and rang the electric bell, beside the fireplace, three
times. While he was waiting for it to be answered he stood
looking out of the window at the long line of carriages in the
street below.
"Everything is progressing admirably," he said to himself.
"Amberley does not suspect any more than the world in general. As
a proof he asks me to dinner to-morrow evening to meet his
brother and sister-in-law, two of his particular friends, and
above all Her Grace of Wiltshire. Of course I shall go, and when
I bid Her Grace good-bye it will be strange if I am not one step
nearer the interest on Liz's money."
At this moment the door opened, and his valet, the grave and
respectable Belton, entered the room. Carne turned to greet him
impatiently.
"Come, come, Belton," he said, "we must be quick. It is twenty
minutes to twelve and if we don't hurry, the folk next door will
become impatient. Have you succeeded in doing what I spoke to you
about last night?"
"I have done everything, sir."
"I am glad to hear it. Now lock that door and let us get to
work. You can let me have your news while I am dressing."
Opening one side of a massive wardrobe that completely filled
one end of the room, Belton took from it a number of garments.
They included a well worn velvet coat, a baggy pair of
trousers—so old that only a notorious pauper or a
millionaire could have afforded to wear them—a flannel
waistcoat, a Gladstone collar, a soft silk tie, and a pair of
embroidered carpet slippers upon which no old clothes man in the
most reckless way of business in Petticoat Lane would have
advanced a single halfpenny. Into these he assisted his master to
change.
"Now give me the wig, and unfasten the straps of this hump,"
said Carne, as the other placed the garments just referred to
upon a neighbouring chair.
Belton did as he was ordered, and then there happened a thing
the like of which no one would have believed. Having unbuckled a
strap on either shoulder, and slipped his hand beneath the
waistcoat, he withdrew a large papier-maché hump, which he
carried away and carefully placed in a drawer of the bureau.
Relieved of his burden, Simon Carne stood up as straight and
well-made a man as any in Her Majesty's dominions. The
malformation, for which so many, including the Earl and Countess
of Amberley, had often pitied him, was nothing but a hoax
intended to produce an effect which would permit him additional
facilities of disguise.
The hump discarded, and the grey wig fitted carefully to his
head in such a manner that not even a pinch of his own curly
locks could be seen beneath it, he adorned his cheeks with a pair
of crèpe-hair whiskers, donned the flannel vest and the
velvet coat previously mentioned, slipped his feet into the
carpet slippers, placed a pair of smoked glasses upon his nose,
and declared himself ready to proceed about his business. The man
who would have known him for Simon Carne would have been as
astute as, well, shall we say, as the private
detective—Klimo himself.
"It's on the stroke of twelve," he said, as he gave a final
glance at himself in the pier-glass above the dressing-table, and
arranged his tie to his satisfaction. "Should anyone call,
instruct Ram Gafur to tell them that I have gone out on business,
and shall not be back until three o'clock."
"Very good, sir."
"Now undo the door and let me go in." Thus commanded, Belton
went across to the large wardrobe which, as I have already said,
covered the whole of one side of the room, and opened the middle
door. Two or three garments were seen inside suspended on pegs,
and these he removed, at the same time pushing towards the right
the panel at the rear. When this was done a large aperture in the
wall between the two houses was disclosed. Through this door
Carne passed drawing it behind him.
In No. 1, Belverton Terrace, the house occupied by the
detective, whose presence in the street Carne seemed to find so
objectionable, the entrance thus constructed was covered by the
peculiar kind of confessional box in which Klimo invariably sat
to receive his clients, the rearmost panels of which opened in
the same fashion as those in the wardrobe in the dressing-room.
These being pulled aside, he had but to draw them to again after
him, take his seat, ring the electric bell to inform his
housekeeper that he was ready, and then welcome his clients as
quickly as they cared to come.
Punctually at two o'clock the interviews ceased, and Klimo,
having reaped an excellent harvest of fees, returned to
Porchester House to become Simon Carne once more.
Possibly it was due to the fact that the Earl and Countess of
Amberley were brimming over with his praise, it may have been the
rumour that he was worth as many millions as you have fingers
upon your hand that did it; one thing, however, was self evident,
within twenty-four hours of the noble Earl's meeting him at
Victoria Station, Simon Carne was the talk, not only of
fashionable, but also of unfashionable, London.
That his household were, with one exception, natives of India,
that he had paid a rental for Porchester House which ran into
five figures, that he was the greatest living authority upon
China and Indian art generally, and that he had come over to
England in search of a wife, were among the smallest of the
canards set afloat concerning him.
During dinner next evening Carne put forth every effort to
please. He was placed on the right hand of his hostess and next
to the Duchess of Wiltshire. To the latter he paid particular
attention, and to such good purpose that when the ladies returned
to the drawing-room afterwards Her Grace was full of his praises.
They had discussed china of all sorts, Carne had promised her a
specimen which she had longed for all her life, but had never
been able to obtain, and in return she had promised to show him
the quaintly carved Indian casket in which the famous necklace,
of which he had, of course, heard, spent most of its time. She
would be wearing the jewels in question at her own ball in a
week's time, she informed him, and if he would care to see the
case when it came from her bankers on that day, she would be only
too pleased to show it to him.
As Simon Carne drove home in his luxurious brougham
afterwards, he smiled to himself as he thought of the success
which was attending his first endeavour. Two of the guests, who
were stewards of the Jockey Club, had heard with delight his idea
of purchasing a horse in order to have an interest in the Derby.
While another, on hearing that he desired to become the possessor
of a yacht, had offered to propose him for the R.C.Y.C. To crown
it all, however, and much better than all, the Duchess of
Wiltshire had promised to show him her famous diamonds.
"By this time next week," he said to himself, "Liz's interest
should be considerably closer. But satisfactory as my progress
has been hitherto it is difficult to see how I am to get
possession of the stones. From what I have been able to discover
they are only brought from the bank on the day the Duchess
intends to wear them, and they are taken back by His Grace the
morning following.
"While she has got them on her person it would be manifestly
impossible to get them from her. And as, when she takes them off,
they are returned to their box and placed in a safe, constructed
in the wall of the bedroom adjoining, and which for the occasion
is occupied by the butler and one of the under footmen, the only
key being in the possession of the Duke himself, it would be
equally foolish to hope to appropriate them. In what manner
therefore I am to become their possessor passes my comprehension.
However, one thing is certain, obtained they must be, and the
attempt must be made on the night of the ball if possible. In the
meantime I'll set my wits to work upon a plan."
Next day Simon Carne was the recipient of an invitation to the
ball in question, and two days later he called upon the Duchess
of Wiltshire at her residence in Belgrave Square with a plan
prepared. He also took with him the small vase he had promised
her four nights before. She received him most graciously, and
their talk fell at once into the usual channel. Having examined
her collection and charmed her by means of one or two judicious
criticisms, he asked permission to include photographs of certain
of her treasures in his forthcoming book, then little by little
he skilfully guided the conversation on to the subject of
jewels.
"Since we are discussing gems, Mr. Carne," she said, "perhaps
it would interest you to see my famous necklace. By good fortune
I have it in the house now, for the reason that an alteration is
being made to one of the clasps by my jewellers."
"I should like to see it immensely," answered Carne. "At one
time and another I have had the good fortune to examine the
jewels of the leading Indian Princes, and I should like to be
able to say that I had seen the famous Wiltshire necklace."
"Then you shall certainly have that honour," she answered with
a smile. "If you will ring that bell I will send for it."
Carne rang the bell as requested, and when the butler entered
he was given the key of the safe and ordered to bring the case to
the drawing-room.
"We must not keep it very long," she observed while the man
was absent. "It is to be returned to the bank in an hour's
time."
"I am indeed fortunate," Carne replied, and turned to the
description of some curious Indian wood carving, of which he was
making a special feature in his book. As he explained, he had
collected his illustrations from the doors of Indian temples,
from the gateways of palaces, from old brass work, and even from
carved chairs and boxes he had picked up in all sorts of odd
corners. Her Grace was most interested.
"How strange that you should have mentioned it," she said. "If
carved boxes have any interest for you, it is possible my jewel
case itself may be of use to you. As I think I told you during
Lady Amberley's dinner, it came from Benares, and has carved upon
it the portraits of nearly every god in the Hindu Pantheon."
"You raise my curiosity to fever heat," said Carne.
A few moments later the servant returned, bringing with him a
wooden box, about sixteen inches long, by twelve wide, and eight
deep, which he placed upon a table beside his mistress, after
which he retired.
"This is the case to which I have just been referring," said
the Duchess, placing her hand on the article in question. "If you
glance at it you will see how exquisitely it is carved."
"This is the case to which I have just been referring," said the Duchess.
Concealing his eagerness with an effort, Simon Carne drew his
chair up to the table, and examined the box.
It was with justice she had described it as a work of art.
What the wood was of which it was constructed Carne was unable to
tell. It was dark and heavy, and, though it was not teak, closely
resembled it. It was literally covered with quaint carving, and
of its kind was a unique work of art.
"It is most curious and beautiful," said Carne when he had
finished his examination. "In all my experience I can safely say
I have never seen its equal. If you will permit me I should very
much like to include a description and an illustration of it in
my book."
"Of course you may do so; I shall be only too delighted,"
answered Her Grace. "If it will help you in your work I shall be
glad to lend it to you for a few hours in order that you may have
the illustration made."
This was exactly what Carne had been waiting for, and he
accepted the offer with alacrity.
"Very well, then," she said. "On the day of my ball, when it
will be brought from the bank again, I will take the necklace out
and send the case to you. I must make one proviso however, and
that is that you let me have it back the same day."
"I will certainly promise to do that," replied Carne.
"And now let us look inside," said his hostess.
Choosing a key from a bunch she carried in her pocket, she
unlocked the casket, and lifted the lid. Accustomed as Carne had
all his life been to the sight of gems, what he saw before him
then almost took his breath away. The inside of the box, both
sides and bottom, was quilted with the softest Russia leather,
and on this luxurious couch reposed the famous necklace. The fire
of the stones when the light caught them was sufficient to dazzle
the eyes, so fierce was it.
As Carne could see, every gem was perfect of its kind, and
there were no fewer than three hundred of them. The setting was a
fine example of the jeweller's art, and last, but not least, the
value of the whole affair was fifty thousand pounds, a mere
fleabite to the man who had given it to his wife, but a fortune
to any humbler person.
"And now that you have seen my property, what do you think of
it?" asked the Duchess as she watched her visitor's face.
"It is very beautiful," he answered, "and I do not wonder that
you are proud of it. Yes, the diamonds are very fine, but I think
it is their abiding place that fascinates me more. Have you any
objection to my measuring it?"
"Pray do so, if it is likely to be of any assistance to you,"
replied Her Grace.
Carne thereupon produced a small ivory rule, ran it over the
box, and the figures he thus obtained he jotted down in his
pocket book.
Ten minutes later, when the case had been returned to the
safe, he thanked the Duchess for her kindness and took his
departure, promising to call in person for the empty case on the
morning of the ball.
Reaching home he passed into his study, and, seating himself
at his writing table, pulled a sheet of note paper towards him
and began to sketch, as well as he could remember it, the box he
had seen. Then he leant back in his chair and closed his
eyes.
"I have cracked a good many hard nuts in my time," he said
reflectively, "but never one that seemed so difficult at first
sight as this. As far as I see at present, the case stands as
follows: the box will be brought from the bank where it usually
reposes to Wiltshire House on the morning of the dance. I shall
be allowed to have possession of it, without the stones of
course, for a period possibly extending from eleven o'clock in
the morning to four or five, at any rate not later than seven, in
the evening. After the ball the necklace will be returned to it,
when it will be locked up in the safe, over which the butler and
a footman will mount guard.
"To get into the room during the night is not only too risky,
but physically out of the question; while to rob Her Grace of her
treasure during the progress of the dance would be equally
impossible. The Duke fetches the casket and takes it back to the
bank himself, so that to all intents and purposes I am almost as
far off the solution as ever."
Half-an-hour went by and found him still seated at his desk,
staring at the drawing on the paper, then an hour. The traffic of
the streets rolled past the house unheeded. Finally Jowur Singh
announced his carriage, and, feeling that an idea might come to
him with a change of scene, he set off for a drive in the
park.
By this time his elegant mail phaeton, with its magnificent
horses and Indian servant on the seat behind, was as well-known
as Her Majesty's state equipage, and attracted almost as much
attention. To-day, however, the fashionable world noticed that
Simon Carne looked preoccupied. He was still working out his
problem, but so far without much success. Suddenly something, no
one will ever be able to say what, put an idea into his head. The
notion was no sooner born in his brain than he left the park and
drove quickly home. Ten minutes had scarcely elapsed before he
was back in his study again, and had ordered that Wajib Baksh
should be sent to him.
When the man he wanted put in an appearance, Carne handed him
the paper upon which he had made the drawing of the jewel
case.
"Look at that," he said, "and tell me what thou seest
there."
"I see a box," answered the man, who by this time was well
accustomed to his master's ways.
"I see a box," answered the man."
"As thou say'st, it is a box," said Carne. "The wood is heavy
and hick, though what wood it is I do not know. The measurements
are upon the paper below. Within, both the sides and bottom are
quilted with soft leather as I have also shown. Think now, Wajib
Baksh, for in this case thou wilt need to have all thy wits about
thee. Tell me is it in thy power, oh most cunning of all
craftsmen, to insert such extra sides within this box that they,
being held by a spring, shall lie so snug as not to be noticeable
to the ordinary eye? Can it be so arranged that, when the box is
locked, they shall fall flat upon the bottom thus covering and
holding fast what lies beneath them, and yet making the box
appear to the eye as if it were empty. Is it possible for thee to
do such a thing?"
Wajib Baksh did not reply for a few moments. His instinct told
him what his master wanted, and he was not disposed to answer
hastily, for he also saw that his reputation as the most cunning
craftsman in India was at stake.
"If the Heaven-born will permit me the night for thought," he
said at last, "I will come to him when he rises from his bed and
tell him what I can do, and he can then give his orders as it
pleases him."
"Very good," said Carne. "Then tomorrow morning I shall expect
thy report. Let the work be good and there will be many rupees
for thee to touch in return. As to the lock and the way it shall
act, let that be the concern of Hiram Singh."
Wajib Baksh salaamed and withdrew, and Simon Carne for the
time being dismissed the matter from his mind.
Next morning, while he was dressing, Belton reported that the
two artificers desired an interview with him. He ordered them to
be admitted, and forthwith they entered the room. It was
noticeable that Wajib Baksh carried in his hand a heavy box,
which, upon Carne's motioning him to do so, he placed upon the
table.
"Have ye thought over the matter?" he asked, seeing that the
men waited for him to speak.
"We have thought of it," replied Hiram Singh, who always acted
as spokesman for the pair. "If the Presence will deign to look he
will see that we have made a box of the size and shape such as he
drew upon the paper."
"Yes, it is certainly a good copy," said Carne
condescendingly, after he had examined it.
Wajib Baksh showed his white teeth in appreciation of the
compliment, and Hiram Singh drew closer to the table.
"And now, if the Sahib will open it, he will in his wisdom be
able to tell if it resembles the other that he has in his
mind."
Carne opened the box as requested, and discovered that the
interior was an exact counterfeit of the Duchess of Wiltshire's
jewel case, even to the extent of the quilted leather lining
which had been the other's principal feature. He admitted that
the likeness was all that could be desired.
"As he is satisfied," said Hiram Singh, "it may be that the
Protector of the Poor will deign to try an experiment with it.
See, here is a comb. Let it be placed in the box, so—now he
will see what he will see."
The broad, silver-backed comb, lying upon his dressing-table,
was placed on the bottom of the box, the lid was closed, and the
key turned in the lock. The case being securely fastened, Hiram
Singh laid it before his master.
"I am to open it, I suppose?" said Carne, taking the key and
replacing it in the lock.
"If my master pleases," replied the other.
Carne accordingly turned it in the lock, and, having done so,
raised the lid and looked inside. His astonishment was complete.
To all intents and purposes the box was empty. The comb was not
to be seen, and yet the quilted sides and bottom were, to all
appearances, just the same as when he had first looked
inside.
"This is most wonderful," he said. And indeed it was as clever
a conjuring trick as any he had ever seen.
"Nay, it is very simple," Wajib Baksh replied. "The Heaven-
born told me that there must be no risk of detection."
He took the box in his own hands and, running his nails down
the centre of the quilting, dividing the false bottom into two
pieces; these he lifted out, revealing the comb lying upon the
real bottom beneath.
"The sides, as my lord will see," said Hiram Singh, taking a
step forward, "are held in their appointed places by these two
springs. Thus, when the key is turned the springs relax, and the
sides are driven by others into their places on the bottom, where
the seams in the quilting mask the join. There is but one
disadvantage. It is as follows: When the pieces which form the
bottom are lifted out in order that my lord may get at whatever
lies concealed beneath, the springs must of necessity stand
revealed. However, to anyone who knows sufficient of the working
of the box to lift out the false bottom, it will be an easy
matter to withdraw the springs and conceal them about his
person."
"As you say that is an easy matter," said Carne, "and I shall
not be likely to forget. Now one other question. Presuming I am
in a position to put the real box into your hands for say eight
hours, do you think that in that time you can fit it up so that
detection will be impossible?"
"Assuredly, my lord," replied Hiram Singh with conviction.
"There is but the lock and the fitting of the springs to be done.
Three hours at most would y suffice for that."
"I am pleased with you," said || Carne. "As a proof of my
satisfaction, when the work is finished you will each receive
five hundred rupees. Now you can go."
According to his promise, ten o'clock on the Friday following
found him in his hansom driving towards Belgrave Square. He was a
little anxious, though the casual observer would scarcely have
been able to tell it. The magnitude of the stake for which he was
playing was enough to try the nerve of even such a past master in
his profession as Simon Carne.
Arriving at the house he discovered some workmen erecting an
awning across the foot-way in preparation for the ball that was
to take place at night. It was not long, however, before he found
himself in the boudoir, reminding Her Grace of her promise to
permit him an opportunity of making a drawing of the famous jewel
case. The Duchess was naturally busy, and within a quarter of an
hour he was on his way home with the box placed on the seat of
the carriage beside him.
"Now," he said, as he patted it good-humouredly, "if only the
notion worked out by Hiram Singh and Wajib Baksh holds good, the
famous Wiltshire diamonds will become my property before very
many hours are passed. By this time to-morrow, I suppose London
will be all agog concerning the burglary."
On reaching his house he left his carriage and himself carried
the box into his study. Once there he rang his bell and ordered
Hiram Singh and Wajib Baksh to be sent to him. When they arrived
he showed them the box upon which they were to exercise their
ingenuity.
"Bring your tools in here," he said, "and do the work under my
own eyes. You have but nine hours before you, so you must make
the most of them."
The men went for their implements, and as soon as they were
ready set to work. All through the day they were kept hard at it,
with the result that by five o'clock the alterations had been
effected and the case stood ready. By the time Carne returned
from his afternoon drive in the Park it was quite prepared for
the part it was to play in his scheme. Having praised the men, he
turned them out and locked the door, then went across the room
and unlocked a drawer in his writing table. From it he took a
flat leather jewel case which he opened. It contained a necklace
of counterfeit diamonds, if anything a little larger than the one
he intended to try to obtain. He had purchased it that morning in
the Burlington Arcade for the purpose of testing the apparatus
his servants had made, and this he now proceeded to do.
Laying it carefully upon the bottom he closed the lid and
turned the key. When he opened it again the necklace was gone,
and even though he knew the secret he could not for the life of
him see where the false bottom began and ended. After that he
reset the trap and tossed the necklace carelessly in. To his
delight it acted as well as on the previous occasion. He could
scarcely contain his satisfaction. His conscience was
sufficiently elastic to give him no trouble. To him it was
scarcely a robbery he was planning, but an artistic trial of
skill, in which he pitted his wits and cunning against the forces
of society in general.
At half-past seven he dined and afterwards smoked a meditative
cigar over the evening paper in the billiard room. The
invitations to the ball were for ten o'clock, and at nine-thirty
he went to his dressing-room.
"Make me tidy as quickly as you can," he said to Belton when
the latter appeared, "and while you are doing so listen to my
final instructions.
"To-night, as you know, I am endeavouring to secure the
Duchess of Wiltshire's necklace. To-morrow morning all London
will resound with the hubbub, and I have been making my plans in
such a way as to arrange that Klimo shall be the first person
consulted. When the messenger calls, if call he does, see that
the old woman next door bids him tell the Duke to come personally
at twelve o'clock. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly, sir."
"Very good. Now give me the jewel case, and let me be on. You
need not sit up for me."
Precisely as the clocks in the neighbourhood were striking ten
Simon Carne reached Belgrave Square, and, as he hoped, found
himself the first guest.
His hostess and her husband received him in the ante-room of
the drawing-room.
His hostess and her husband received him.
"I come laden with a thousand apologies," he said as he took
Her Grace's hand, and bent over it with that ceremonious
politeness which was one of the man's chief characteristics. "I
am most unconscionably early, I know, but I hastened here in
order that I might personally return the jewel case you so kindly
lent me. I must trust to your generosity to forgive me. The
drawings took longer than I expected."
"Please do not apologise," answered Her Grace. "It is very
kind of you to have brought the case yourself. I hope the
illustrations have proved successful. I shall look forward to
seeing them as soon as they are ready. But I am keeping you
holding the box. One of my servants will take it to my room."
She called a footman to her and bade him take the box and
place it upon her dressing-table.
"Before it goes I must let you see that I have not damaged it
either externally or internally," said Carne with a laugh. "It is
such a valuable case that I should never forgive myself if it had
even received a scratch during the time it has been in my
possession."
So saying he lifted the lid and allowed her to look inside. To
all appearance it was exactly the same as when she had lent it to
him earlier in the day.
"You have been most careful," she said. And then, with an air
of banter, she continued: "If you desire it I shall be pleased to
give you a certificate to that effect."
They jested in this fashion for a few moments after the
servant's departure, during which time Carne promised to call
upon her the following morning at eleven o'clock, and to bring
with him the illustrations he had made and a queer little piece
of china he had had the good fortune to pick up in a dealer's
shop the previous afternoon. By this time fashionable London was
making its way up the grand staircase, and with its appearance
further conversation became impossible.
Shortly after midnight Carne bade his hostess good night and
slipped away. He was perfectly satisfied with his evening's
entertainment, and if the key of the jewel case were not turned
before the jewels were placed in it, he was convinced they would
become his property. It speaks well for his strength of nerve
when I record the fact that on going to bed his slumbers were as
peaceful and untroubled as those of a little child.
Breakfast was scarcely over next morning before a hansom drew
up at his front door and Lord Amberley alighted. He was ushered
into Carne's presence forthwith, and on seeing that the latter
was surprised at his early visit, hastened to explain.
"My dear fellow," he said as he took possession of the chair
the other offered him, "I have come round to see you on most
important business. As I told you last night at the dance, when
you so kindly asked me to come and see the steam yacht you have
purchased, I had an appointment with Wiltshire at half-past nine
this morning. On reaching Belgrave Square, I found the whole
house in confusion. Servants were running hither and thither with
scared faces, the butler was on the borders of lunacy, the
Duchess was well-nigh hysterical in her boudoir, while her
husband was in his study vowing vengeance against all the
world."
"You alarm me," said Carne, lighting a cigarette with a hand
that was as steady as a rock. "What on earth has happened?"
"I think I might safely allow you fifty guesses and then wager
a hundred pounds you'd not hit the mark; and yet in a certain
measure it concerns you."
"Concerns me? Good gracious. What have I done to bring all
this about?'
"Pray do not look so alarmed," said Amberley. "Personally you
have done nothing. Indeed, on second thoughts, I don't know that
I am right in saying that it concerns you at all. The fact of the
matter is, Carne, a burglary took place last night at Wiltshire
House, and the famous necklace has disappeared."
"Good Heavens! You don't say so?"
"But I do. The circumstances of the case are as follows: When
my cousin retired to her room last night after the ball, she
unclasped the necklace, and, in her husband's presence, placed it
carefully in her jewel case, which she locked. That having been
done, Wiltshire took the box to the room which contained the
safe, and himself placed it there, locking the iron door with his
own key. The room was occupied that night, according to custom,
by the butler and one of the footmen, both of whom have been in
the family since they were boys.
"Next morning, after breakfast, the Duke unlocked the safe and
took out the box, intending to convey it to the Bank as usual.
Before leaving, however, he placed it on his study-table and went
upstairs to speak to his wife. He cannot remember exactly how
long he was absent, but he feels convinced that he was not gone
more than a quarter of an hour at the very utmost.
"Their conversation finished, she accompanied him downstairs,
where she saw him take up the case to carry it to his carriage.
Before he left the house, however, she said: 'I suppose you have
looked to see that the necklace is all right?' 'How could I do
so?' was his reply. 'You know you possess the only key that will
fit it.'
"She felt in her pockets, but to her surprise the key was not
there."
"If I were a detective I should say that that is a point to be
remembered," said Carne with a smile. "Pray, where did she find
her keys?"
"Upon her dressing-table," said Amberley. "Though she has not
the slightest recollection of leaving them there."
"Well, when she had procured the keys, what happened?"
"Why, they opened the box, and to their astonishment and
dismay, found it empty. The jewels were gone!"
"Good gracious. What a terrible loss! It seems almost
impossible that it can be true. And pray, what did they do?"
"At first they stood staring into the empty box, hardly
believing the evidence of their own eyes. Stare how they would,
however, they could not bring them back. The jewels had without
doubt disappeared, but when and where the robbery had taken place
it was impossible to say. After that they had up all the servants
and questioned them, but the result was what they might have
foreseen, no one from the butler to the kitchen-maid could throw
any light upon the subject. To this minute it remains as great a
mystery as when they first discovered it."
"I am more concerned than I can tell you," said Carne. "How
thankful I ought to be that I returned the case to Her Grace last
night. But in thinking of myself I am forgetting to ask what has
brought you to me. If I can be of any assistance I hope you will
command me."
"Well, I'll tell you why I have come," replied Lord Amberley.
"Naturally they are most anxious to have the mystery solved and
the jewels recovered as soon as possible. Wiltshire wanted to
send to Scotland Yard there and then, but his wife and I
eventually persuaded him to consult Klimo. As you know, if the
police authorities are called in first he refuses the business
altogether. Now, we thought, as you are his next door neighbour,
you might possibly be able to assist us."
"You may be very sure, my lord, I will do everything that lies
in my power. Let us go in and see him at once."
As he spoke he rose and threw what remained of his cigarette
into the fireplace. His visitor having imitated his example, they
procured their hats and walked round from Park Lane into
Belverton Street to bring up at No. 1. After they had rung the
bell the door was opened to them by the old woman who invariably
received the detective's clients.
"Is Mr. Klimo at home?" asked Carne. "And, if so, can we see
him?"
The old lady was a little deaf, and the question had to be
repeated before she could be made to understand what was wanted.
As soon, however, as she realised their desire she informed them
that her master was absent from town, but would be back as usual
at twelve o'clock to meet his clients.
"What on earth's to be done?" said the Earl, looking at his
companion in dismay. "I am afraid I can't come back again, as I
have a most important appointment at that hour."
"Do you think you could intrust the business to me?" asked
Carne. "If so, I will make a point of seeing him at twelve
o'clock, and could call at Wiltshire House afterwards and tell
the Duke what I have done."
"That's very good of you," replied Amberley. "If you are sure
it would not put you to too much trouble, that would be quite the
best thing to be done."
"I will do it with pleasure," Carne replied. "I feel it my
duty to help in whatever way I can."
"You are very kind," said the other. "Then, as I understand
it, you are to call upon Klimo at twelve o'clock, and afterwards
to let my cousins know what you have succeeded in doing. I only
hope he will help us to secure the thief. We are having too many
of these burglaries just now. I must catch this hansom and be
off. Goodbye, and many thanks."
"Goodbye," said Carne, and shook him by the hand.
The hansom having rolled away, Carne retraced his steps to his
own abode.
"It is really very strange," he muttered as he walked along,
"how often chance condescends to lend her assistance to my little
schemes. The mere fact that His Grace left the box unwatched in
his study for a quarter of an hour may serve to throw the police
off on quite another scent. I am also glad that they decided to
open the case in the house, for if it had gone to the bankers'
and had been placed in the strong room unexamined, I should never
have been able to get possession of the jewels at all."
Three hours later he drove to Wiltshire House and saw the
Duke. The Duchess was far too much upset by the catastrophe to
see anyone.
"This is really most kind of you, Mr. Carne," said His Grace
when the other had supplied an elaborate account of his interview
with Klimo. "We are extremely indebted to you. I am sorry he
cannot come before ten o'clock to-night, and that he makes this
stipulation of my seeing him alone, for I must confess I should
like to have had someone else present to ask any questions that
might escape me. But if that's his usual hour and custom, well,
we must abide by it, that's all. I hope he will do some good, for
this is the greatest calamity that has ever befallen me. As I
told you just now, it has made my wife quite ill. She is confined
to her bedroom and quite hysterical."
"You do not suspect anyone, I suppose," inquired Carne.
"Not a soul," the other answered. "The thing is such a mystery
that we do not know what to think. I feel convinced, however,
that my servants are as innocent as I am. Nothing will ever make
me think them otherwise. I wish I could catch the fellow, that's
all. I'd make him suffer for the trick he's played me."
Carne offered an appropriate reply, and after a little further
conversation upon the subject, bade the irate nobleman goodbye
and left the house. From Belgrave Square he drove to one of the
clubs of which he had been elected a member, in search of Lord
Orpington, with whom he had promised to lunch, and afterwards
took him to a ship-builder's yard near Greenwich in order to show
him the steam yacht he had lately purchased.
It was close upon dinner time before he returned to his own
residence. He brought Lord Orpington with him, and they dined in
state together. At nine the latter bade him good-bye, and at ten
Carne retired to his dressing-room and rang for Belton.
"What have you to report," he asked, "with regard to what I
bade you do in Belgrave Square?"
"I followed your instructions to the letter," Belton replied.
"Yesterday morning I wrote to Messrs. Horniblow and Jimson, the
house agents in Piccadily, in the name of Colonel Braithwaite,
and asked for an order to view the residence to the right of
Wiltshire House. I asked that the order might be sent direct to
the house, where the Colonel would get it upon his arrival. This
letter I posted myself in Basingstoke, as you desired me to
do.
"At nine o'clock yesterday morning I dressed myself as much
like an elderly army officer as possible, and took a cab to
Belgrave Square. The caretaker, an old fellow of close upon
seventy years of age, admitted me immediately upon hearing my
name, and proposed that he should show me over the house. This,
however, I told him was quite unnecessary, backing my speech with
a present of half-a-crown, whereupon he returned to his breakfast
perfectly satisfied, while I wandered about the house at my own
leisure.
"Reaching the same floor as that upon which is situated the
room in which the Duke's safe is kept, I discovered that your
supposition was quite correct, and that it would be possible for
a man, by opening the window, to make his way along the coping
from one house to the other, without being seen. I made certain
that there was no one in the bedroom in which the butler slept,
and then arranged the long telescope walking stick you gave me,
and fixed one of my boots to it by means of the screw in the end.
With this I was able to make a regular succession of footsteps in
the dust along the ledge, between one window and the other.
"That done, I went downstairs again, bade the caretaker good
morning, and got into my cab. From Belgrave Square I drove to the
shop of the pawnbroker whom you told me you had discovered was
out of town. His assistant inquired my business and was anxious
to do what he could for me. I told him, however, that I must see
his master personally as it was about the sale of some diamonds I
had had left me. I pretended to be annoyed that he was not at
home, and muttered to myself, so that the man could hear,
something about its meaning a journey to Amsterdam.
"Then I limped out of the shop, paid off my cab, and, walking
down a bystreet, removed my moustache, and altered my appearance
by taking off my great coat and muffler. A few streets further on
I purchased a bowler hat in place of the old-fashioned topper I
had hitherto been wearing, and then took a cab from Piccadilly
and came home."
"You have fulfilled my instructions admirably," said Carne.
"And if the business comes off, as I expect it will, you shall
receive your usual percentage. Now I must be turned into Klimo
and be off to Belgrave Square to put His Grace of Wiltshire upon
the track of this burglar."
Before he retired to rest that night Simon Carne took
something, wrapped in a red silk handkerchief, from the capacious
pocket of the coat Klimo had been wearing a few moments before.
Having unrolled the covering, he held up to the light the
magnificent necklace which for so many years had been the joy and
pride of the ducal house of Wiltshire. The electric light played
upon it, and touched it with a thousand different hues.
He held up to the light the magnificent
necklace.
"Where so many have failed," he said to himself, as he wrapped
it in the handkerchief again and locked it in his safe, "it is
pleasant to be able to congratulate oneself on having succeeded.
It is without its equal, and I don't think I shall be
overstepping the mark if I say that I think when she receives it
Liz will be glad she lent me the money."
Next morning all London was astonished by the news that the
famous Wiltshire diamonds had been stolen, and a few hours later
Carne learnt from an evening paper that the detectives who had
taken up the case, upon the supposed retirement from it of Klimo,
were still completely at fault.
That evening he was to entertain several friends to dinner.
They included Lord Amberley, Lord Orpington, and a prominent
member of the Privy Council. Lord Amberley arrived late, but
filled to overflowing with importance. His friends noticed his
state, and questioned him.
"Well, gentlemen," he answered, as he took up a commanding
position upon the drawing-room hearth-rug, "I am in a position to
inform you that Klimo has reported upon the case, and the upshot
of it is that the Wiltshire Diamond Mystery is a mystery no
longer."
"What do you mean?" asked the others in a chorus.
"I mean that he sent in his report to Wiltshire this
afternoon, as arranged. From what he said the other night, after
being alone in the room with the empty jewel case and a
magnifying glass for two minutes or so, he was in a position to
describe the modus operandi, and what is more to put the
police on the scent of the burglar."
"And how was it worked?" asked Carne.
"From the empty house next door," replied the other. "On the
morning of the burglary a man, purporting to be a retired army
officer, called with an order to view, got the caretaker out of
the way, clambered along to Wiltshire House by means of the
parapet outside, reached the room during the time the servants
were at breakfast, opened the safe, and abstracted the
jewels."
"But how did Klimo find all this out?" asked Lord
Orpington.
"By his own inimitable cleverness," replied Lord Amberley. "At
any rate it has been proved that he was correct. The man did make
his way from next door, and the police have since discovered that
an individual, answering to the description given, visited a
pawnbroker's shop in the city about an hour later and stated that
he had diamonds to sell."
"If that is so it turns out to be a very simple mystery after
all," said Lord Orpington as they began their meal.
"Thanks to the ingenuity of the cleverest detective in the
world," remarked Amberley.
"In that case here's a good health to Klimo," said the Privy
Councillor, raising his glass.
"Here's a good health to Klimo."
"I will join you in that," said Simon Carne. "Here's a very
good health to Klimo and his connection with the Duchess of
Wiltshire's diamonds. May he always be equally successful!"
"Hear, hear to that," replied his guests.
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