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ANONYMOUS
(CECIL HAYTER)

THE CASE OF
THE MISSING HEIRLOOMS

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Illustrator: R.J. MacDonald

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First published in
The Penny Pictorial,
Issue 458, 07/03/1908, Amalgamated Press, London

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Version Date: 2025-01-19

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THE Duke of Freshwater blinked at Blake over the top of his gold-rimmed glasses and shook his head.

He was a kindly, genial old gentleman, who could on occasions be most surprisingly dignified. For the moment, however, he was looking very solemn and careworn.

"It's a distressing thing, Mr. Blake," he repeated —"most distressing, and very painful to all concerned. I hate being compelled to think ill of my fellow-men; still, this is one of the cases where one must. The financial loss, too, is enormous, and the estates are by no means so prosperous as when I was a young man, and I sincerely trust that you will leave no stone unturned to recover all or part of the jewels."

"I assure you that I shall do my utmost," said Blake; "and 1 have every hope of succeeding, as I have a chance of making my examination before anything has been touched or disturbed."

The duke nodded.

"I fancied that you would prefer it so, and I myself took over the keys the moment the loss was discovered. Here is a list of the missing heirlooms. There was also, I believe, a parcel of jewellery, the private property of my librarian, in the safe, which was also taken. This is briefly all that is known of the affair at present.

"The jewels were last in use on December the 25th—Christmas Day. On the 26th, Mr. Haines, my librarian, took them back under his charge, and they were restored to their cases in the safe in the library. I myself was present at the time, as I wished to examine some of the stones with a view to having them re-set. Yesterday the duchess was going to town for a week or so, and desired Mr. Haines to get her certain ornaments.

"He went to the safe, opened it, and apparently everything was intact—the jewel-cases were all in place on the shelves behind a lot of bundles of family papers—but on opening one of them he found, to his horror and amazement, that the contents were missing.

"This was also the case with the second and the third.

"He at once re-closed the safe, and rushed in search of me, and together we made a thorough and careful inspection, replacing each case exactly as we found it. Every jewel and decoration, and some old and very valuable orders, had been stolen. The parcel which I mentioned as containing his private property was also apparently intact, wrapped in brown paper, and tied with stout string, with a label attached bearing his name.

"On my advice he cut the string and opened the parcel. Inside was a small oblong morocco case, but the contents, which I believe were worth some seven hundred pounds, had vanished!

"My own loss financially is hard to estimate accurately, but I should say that sixty thousand pounds would be well under the mark. The Freshwater rubies alone are valued at twenty thousand. They were historical jewels, and part of them had once been the property of poor Queen Marie Antoinette. The lock of the safe had, so far as our inexpert knowledge could serve us, not been tampered with in any way.

"There were no scratches or signs of violence on the paint work, and the key worked smoothly and easily.

"There are two—and only two—of these keys, in existence. One I have myself, and always keep locked in my despatch-box; the other Mr. Haines has. He is a most careful and methodical man, who has been librarian here for over twenty years, and he assures me that he always carries it on his person or beneath his pillow when asleep.

"To the library there are three keys. The groom of the chambers has one, Mr. Haines another, and I myself again the third. The room is invariably kept locked, for it contains a very valuable collection of original manuscripts.

"It is heated by hot air for fear of fire, the windows are guarded by screens of old Italian wrought ironwork, and are quite inaccessible.

"Even the necessary cleaning is done in the presence either of Mr. Haines or the groom of the chambers, since the loss some years ago of an early edition of Chaucer; and the safe, as you shall see for yourself, is cleverly concealed behind a set of movable shelves containing real books—not dummies. Yet, in spite of that, at some period between December 26th and now, the thief contrived to enter the room and get away with the contents of the safe."

Blake frowned thoughtfully at the carpet.

"Arc you positive, duke, that neither of the safe keys has been out of their owner's possession for—say even half an hour?" he asked at last.

"For my own key I can speak positively. It has lain for years in a sealed envelope in my despatch-box, and it is there at this minute. Mr. Haines can tell you about his himself. If you would care to, we will go straight to the library now?"

Blake assented, and the duke, who suffered from twinges of gout, led the way, helping himself along with the support of an ebony crutch-handled stick. Mr. Haines was in the library—a scholarly, clean-shaven man, with an ascetic face, and a humorous, mobile mouth.

He had the bowed shoulders and short sight which come from much poring over crabbed manuscripts.

But there was little humour in his smile as he greeted them; his sense of his responsibility for the loss weighed heavily upon him, and his manner with the duke was diffident and nervous.

He was a man of dreams rather than of affairs, and to Blake he was almost over full of excuses.

The latter sized him up shrewdly.

"If this case had been put into the hands of the county police," he whispered to the duke, "Mr. Haines would have been arrested within the hour. There's not a man amongst them who wouldn't have taken his nervous manner as a proof of complicity. Ah, there, I see, is the safe!"

The duke looked at him with raised eyebrows, for Blake was staring at a very solid and massive-looking section of the bookcases which lined the walls for nearly their whole extent.

"I beg your pardon," said he, "but though I told you that the safe was concealed, I am not aware that I gave any indication of its precise locality."

Blake smiled.

"That's perfectly true, but you forget that both you and the librarian have been walking up and down the gravelled terrace half the morning. There are three distinct impressions of your own feet and also several of Mr. Haines. Gravel clings a little these damp days. Besides, the mere mention of the word 'safe' is enough to make Mr. Haines turn his eyes in that direction. With your permission, duke, I will ask him a few questions. Now, Mr. Haines, I want yon to give me one or two simple answers. First and foremost, are you positive that your safe key was never out of your possession—not necessarily lately, but at any time during, say the last year?"

"Certainly not, Mr. Blake; I can assure you of that. I have looked after his Grace's property now for many years, but I have never lost sight of the keys for so much as a quarter of an hour, except at night-time, and then they have been kept under my pillow. I may add that I am a light sleeper and frequently read far into the night. I live in the old dower-house, which is at the bottom of the wall-garden, and after dusk there are always two or three terriers loose about the place who would give the alarm quickly."

"You keep the safe key with your others?"

"Yes, on a ring and chain. Here it is! Together with the library key and the keys of the various presses."

Blake looked at the chain held out for his inspection. The safe key was of rather peculiar construction, and, from its comparative dullness had evidently been used less frequently than the others.

He was able to pick it out from the bunch unhesitatingly, much to the duke's and Mr. Haines' surprise.

Blake examined it carefully, using his pocket-lens and noting every mark on it.

"Now let us see the safe," he said at length.

Mr. Haines pressed a button, and the bookcase swung outwards noiselessly as on a hinge, revealing a recess at the back in which stood a large fireproof safe painted an orthodox green.

Blake knelt down and inspected the paintwork and the edges of the door. A cursory glance sufficed to show that no force had been used.

"How many times has this lock been used since the discovery of the loss?" he asked.

"Twice," answered Mr. Haines promptly. "The first time when I went to get the jewels for her grace. The second when the duke and myself examined the cases."

Blake nodded, drew a small white feather from his pocket, and inserted it in the keyhole.

The tip when he withdrew it, was blackened in patches.

He held it up for their inspection.

"Look!" he said briefly. "Someone has contrived to forge a key. It is a simple combination, and any expert could make a duplicate under an hour."

"But bless my soul!" said the duke, rather testily, "how on earth could he have got here to do it? The room is quite inaccessible from the outside, as you can see for yourself."

"I'll tell you more about that when I've examined it in detail," replied Blake drily. "If you have no objection, I should be glad if you and Mr. Haines could give me half an hour here by myself."

"Certainly. Haines, will you give me an arm to the morning-room? Mr. Blake, I shall be glad to see you there when you have finished your investigations."

The two withdrew, leaving Blake alone in the long, silent room. It was a magnificent apartment, nearly a hundred feet long, and thirty broad. Down one side a succession of windows gave a series of delightful views over the park.

Each of these, as the duke had pointed out, were screened and protected by beautiful Italian wrought-iron work of unique design.

These screens Blake examined patiently one by one, but they had not been touched; and to have obtained access to the room by means of the windows was, therefore, impossible.

Round the remaining three sides, at a height of some sixteen feet, there ran a broad, carved gallery, and here also the walls were lined with bookshelves.

The only available entrance was by the door.

Having satisfied himself on this point, Blake next turned his attention to the safe, and the empty cases, particularly noting the one which had contained Mr. Haines' personal valuables.

At last he rose and made his way to join them in the morning-room.

"Can you tell me?" he asked, "if the duchess herself is in the habit of going to the safe ever, when she wants any special jewel?"

The Duke blinked inquiringly at his librarian. The latter shook his head.

"I don't think her grace has ever entered the library for years. Her—ahem!—old books and manuscripts have little interest for her—or, indeed, for most ladies, I fancy."

"Quite so!" said Blake. "By the way, Mr. Haines, that parcel of yours—did you tie it up yourself?"

"Yes, and to prevent any confusion I attached a label with my name. "But, though I can ill afford the loss, I beg you not to bother about my poor trinkets; if you can only find the duke's jewels——"

"I fancy that the road to the one lies through the other!" answered Blake. "I understand, duke, that on the discovery of the loss yesterday the house-party was broken up. Is that so?"

"To my great regret, yes; and what grieved me most was that every one of them, by common consent, insisted that the duchess or myself should personally inspect their dressing-cases and trunks.

"It was a most distressing affair, believe me, Mr. Blake, and, to my mind a grave breach of hospitality. Serious though the loss is, I would infinitely rather have put up with it; but they were so insistent that I was practically forced to comply, though strongly against my will. Naturally it led to nothing, beyond making me feel heartily ashamed of myself."

"It was, of course, most unpleasant," said Blake; "but still, from your guests' own point of view, more satisfactory. Had you been in their position, I am sure you would have been the first to volunteer."

"That was precisely what Lady Lucy and the others tried to impress upon me, and it was on that understanding only that I consented."

Blake nodded gravely.

"By the way, Mr. Haines, I suppose you haven't travelled much in Africa. I see you've got some fine Somali spears up in the gallery of the library."

Mr. Haines smiled faintly.

"I am afraid travel is out of my line. I have been once to Boulogne, and twice to Ostend, and I was most uncomfortably ill on each occasion. The spears you mention, and some prize trophies, were given to the duke last year by his nephew by marriage."

"Ah! Well, if I may, I should like to have a stroll round the house by myself, and question some of the servants."

"I will vouch for their honesty, Mr. Blake," said the duke hastily. "Every man and woman in the place has been born and bred on the estate, and served me and mine faithfully. I beg of you not to increase the painfulness of the situation more than necessary."

"I can assure you that I have not the least suspicion of any member of your household," said Blake curtly. "In fact, I am prepared to guarantee their ignorance of any single detail of the crime. At the same time, if you wish your jewels to be recovered, I must have an absolutely free hand."

The duke drew himself up.

"It shall be exactly as you wish, Mr. Blake," he answered, a little stiffly. "You will find luncheon ready for you at any time you require in the east dining-room, and Mr. Haines will be in attendance. Should you wish to see me I shall be here."

Blake thanked him and strolled off to examine the premises, and to chat with one or two of the upper servants.

At first they regarded him with suspicion, and were stilted and uneasy in their replies; but his easy, quiet manner disarmed them, and before the hour was out they were ready to do anything that he suggested.

The housekeeper in person showed him round the rooms upstairs, and the groom of the chambers so far unbent as to become quite anecdotal, very much to Blake's amusement, also to his interest. For that worthy had many little stories to tell of the "goings on" of the younger members of the house-party of which the poor old duke himself was as ignorant as an unborn babe.

The duke, for instance, was averse to gambling, and had no idea that after he had retired to his well-earned rest the larger number of his guests sat on till far away into the small hours playing bridge for high stakes.

He was a kindly, unsuspicious old gentleman, who loved his glass or two of good port and his after-dinner nap, and left the management of his guests' subsequent amusements largely in the hands of his still young and handsome wife and his nieces.

Blake did not touch the appetising luncheon laid ready for him. In fact, it was nearer dinner-time when he reappeared with a certain gleam in his eye, which to those who knew him well would have told a tale of a successful day's work.

"Any news, Mr. Blake?" asked the duke. "I have heard so much of your wonderful powers that I am perhaps hoping against hope; and, at least, you must admit that I have been very patient, leaving you to your own devices all day, when there is so much at stake."

"There is the very best news," said Blake, rubbing his long, sinewy hands together. "I think I can promise you both jewels and thief within forty-eight hours at the outside; but you must do exactly as I ask."

"On those conditions, Mr. Blake, I will gladly do anything in reason, and hold myself your debtor Into the bargain."

"Capital!" replied Blake; "then if yon will allow me to act as your secretary, I want you to let me send a telegram to every member of your late house party to the effect that the jewels have been found."

The duke, forgetting his gout, sprang out of his chair.

"Good heavens, Mr. Blake, you don't really mean that it is true?"

"Very literally yes, duke," was the grave answer. "I can put my hands on them within five minutes from now; but, in the interests of justice, we want, not only the jewels, but the thief, taken, as I propose, red-handed; the rest I leave entirely to you."

The duke nodded. "That is only just; but are you absolutely sure of your grounds?"

"I am quite sure, and, what is more, if you will do exactly as I suggest, I can promise you that the thief will return here voluntarily.

"My suggestion is that you allow it to be understood that you are following the duchess to London by the night mail, and that you keep out of the way until I come for you to-morrow, or the next day.

"Nobody but your body-servant must know that you are not actually en route for town.

"Have a carriage ordered for the train, drive to the station, and get out at the first stop, which is Marton. I will meet you there in a motor and drive you back.

"It might even be advisable for you to spend the night at the dower-house with Mr. Haines, who could wait up for you and admit you privately after the servants have gone to bed.

"Meanwhile, I have no doubt that he could furnish me with a complete list of your guests, and their present addresses. I should like to get my telegrams off as soon as possible."

The duke stared.

"I don't understand your reasons in the slightest, Mr. Blake; but I have promised, and I will carry out your wishes in every particular; kindly touch the bell and oblige me."

Half an hour later, a groom was cantering to the local post office with a sheaf of telegraph forms in his hand, and the carriage had been ordered to catch the 10.30 London express.

· · · · · ·

Blake was at Marton by himself in a big car at a little after eleven waiting for the up-train, secure in the knowledge that the morning's papers would appear with a short paragraph in their society columns to the effect that the Duke of Freshwater had left Marsborough Castle to rejoin the duchess in town.

This was an essential part of the grim comedy which he was planning, of the success of which he now had no doubt.

He heard the train coming through the still night air four miles away, and left the car for the platform.

The train drew up, and Blake hurried the duke out of his reserved carriage. The guard came bustling up, and Blake slipped half a sovereign into his hand.

"There is no need to mention to anyone that his grace has changed his mind," he whispered.

"Very well, sir," answered the guard. Experience had taught him that implicit obedience to anyone from Marsborough meant a snug addition to his salary in tips.

Blake drove the duke leisurely back, not to th© castle, but the dower-house, where the librarian was waiting for them, and Blake took the car to the stables and turned in, conscious of a good day's work.

The morning papers reached Marsborough and the surrounding district shortly after eleven.

The telegrams would have been received by the members of the disbanded house-party the previous afternoon, and many of them, as Blake had taken pains to ascertain, were at other houses in the neighbourhood. In his own mind, Blake was pretty sure that the first act in the play he had staged would begin shortly after luncheon.

At that time, cigarette in mouth, he went for a stroll through the main entrance gate at the end of the drive, and turned up the road northwards. In his pocket he had a pair of binoculars.

Having reached the top of a small rise, he seated himself on a gate and enjoyed the landscape; at least, he seemed to have no other occupation. Before he had been there twenty minutes, he saw a fast-moving cloud of dust far away up the road, and glanced at his watch with a grim smile.

"Pretty quick driving," he muttered to himself. "They could have scarcely started before a quarter to three, and it's barely a quarter past now.

"That means all of fifty miles an hour. What a haul for the country police if they only knew!"

He glanced through his glasses, and every now and again caught a flash of white paint and a glimmer of polished brass-work through the dust.

It was a big car being hurled along the road with the exhaust cut out.

A minute later he had closed his glasses with a snap.

"By Jove! she's driving herself," he exclaimed in surprise; "she must have nerves of steel!"

The car slowed down considerably as it approached Marsborough, and the roar of the cut out was stilled.

All the same it went by Blake like a flash, and neither of the occupants noticed the solitary figure seated on a gate quietly rolling a fresh cigarette.

But Blake noticed them, and every detail of them, with a sigh of relief. He saw the woman with both hands gripping hard on the wheel—a tall, handsome woman, but hard-featured, and with a cruel, thin mouth and marks beneath the eyes which told tales of late nights at cards and undue excitement.

Her teeth were pressed on her thin underlip as if she was controlling some powerful emotion with an iron will.

The man beside her was some six years her senior, and must at one time have been extremely handsome; but on him, too, dissipation had left its mark, and his rather weak face wore a haunted, worried expression veiled beneath an affectation of boredom.

When the car was out of sight, Blake slid off his gate and walked rapidly to the entrance of the park.

The car was already standing at the main door, empty. All the park lodges are connected by telephone with the castle. Blake stepped into the main lodge, and the lodge-keeper, who had seen him with the duke, saluted respectfully.

"The duke wishes all the gates of the park to be closed and locked at once," he said quickly; "please telephone to the other lodges immediately. They are not to be opened for anyone at all—you understand—until the duke gives the order in person."

The man looked bewildered.

"But his Grace has gone to town, sir, and——"

"Those are his explicit orders," replied Blake sharply.

Strict obedience was the first law at Marsborough.

The man sprang to the telephone and hurriedly repeated the orders.

"Does that include every possible means of exit?" asked Blake.

"Yes, sir; even the foot-gates and the servants' and stable entrances."

"Very good. Now then, bolt and lock your own, and see that it remains locked until the duke comes to you or sends for you in person."

Blake ran lightly through the shrubbery to the dower-house; time was getting short.

"Are you ready, duke?" he asked.

"I am at your service, Mr. Blake. See, I have already my hat and stick as you requested. Where do we go?"

"I want you to come with me for a short stroll to fetch your jewels and to see the thieves. The rest is in your hands."

Side by side they retraced their way through the shrubbery—at a more leisurely pace this time—and whilst they were still a hundred yards from the gate, and out of sight, Blake heard a car driven rapidly along the avenue and the sudden jar of the brakes put on hastily, followed by the sound of angry voices.

"Bless my soul! What's that?" said the duke. "Visitors?"

"Yes," said Blake grimly. "Very welcome ones. You gave me permission to issue any orders I pleased as from yourself. I did issue one a few minutes ago, and that was that every gate into the park was to be closed and locked until you ordered otherwise. I fancy your visitors are anxious to get out. Shall we go and see?"

They could hear distinctly now a woman's shrill voice raving and storming, and the words "insolence!" and "impertinence!" and the deeper tones of a man threatening.

"Bless me!" said the duke, "I'm afraid Collins is getting into trouble with someone!"

They turned the corner and came out on a big white car pulled up within a yard or so of the closed iron gates, a very distressed lodge-keeper, and a furious man and woman.

The man heard them and turned.

His jaw dropped, and his face went white as a sheet.

"Good heavens, the duke!" he cried. "It's a trap!"

"Be quiet, you fool!" said the woman viciously, trying to drown his words. "Uncle Edwin, this man Collins has been grossly impertinent, and refuses to open the gates."

"Bless my soul!" said the duke helplessly. "Lucy, what are you doing here? What's all this fuss about?"

"What am I doing here? Why, I got your telegram about the jewels. The papers this morning say that you went to town, so naturally Horace and I drove over to find out if the news was true. You seem to forget that your relatives would be likely to take some interest in your affairs, and, believing you to be away, I thought it was my place to come and look after things. I can't say that you seem to be very grateful, and as that is so, if you will tell this insolent servant of yours to open the gates, we'll be off. Horace, jump in. It's very clear that Uncle Edwin doesn't want us."

Blake stooped and whispered a word in the duke's ear. The latter started slightly and clutched his ebony stick; but he had been trained in the diplomatic service in earlier days, and gave no other outward sign.

"Collins," he called sharply, "come away from those gates! Go into your lodge and don't appear again till I call you, under pain of my severe displeasure. Lucy, my dear, you will be so good as to drive your car back a little way up the avenue. I wish to speak to you, and you, too, Captain Marne." His voice was firm, clear, and commanding, and his eyes gleamed sternly, although his words were spoken low.

The woman looked at him for a moment, her eyes hard, her mouth set and tense. Then, with a quick movement, she slipped in the clutch and drove straight at the heavy gates.

It was a daring thing to do and a foolish one. Had she had space in which to get up speed there might very possibly have been a fatal accident; as it was the big gates clattered and shook, the headlights of the car buckled, and the bonnet ripped and gaped.

Then the car came to a standstill with a grunt.

She gave a shrill, hard laugh.

"It seems that I must endure your strange hospitality a little longer," she said; and her hands dropped from the wheel.

"It seems so," said the duke gravely. "Mr. Blake, let me introduce you to my niece, Lady Lucy Marne, and her husband, Captain Marne."

Blake raised his hat, his eyes meanwhile riveted on the car.

"I don't think there's any very serious damage done," he said politely; and then, turning to Marne; "Have you a screwdriver in your tool-box?"

The latter, seemingly half dazed, handed him one mechanically. The car was of the semi-racing type, with a big circular spare petrol-tank behind, with a big opening lid for filling and cleaning purposes, usually bolted down.

Blake took the screwdriver, darted quickly aside, and with a single wrench and a flip jerked the lid open.

Just then Marne made a dash at him. But someone else was even quicker. Lady Lucy, with a spring like a tiger, leapt between him and the tank, and, swinging back her gauntleted hand, struck Blake fairly and squarely in the face with all her force.

"How dare you," she cried—"how dare you touch my car!"

"Lucy!" thundered the duke, and pointed up the drive with his stick, which quivered with his anger, "you forget yourself! You force me to remind you that you're wholly dependent on my mercy!"

The woman gave a sort of choking sob, and fell back.

Blake pulled up his sleeve and plunged his arm to the elbow in the petrol-tank, a second later he had withdrawn it and held out at arm's length a large bag of soft chamois leather, from which the petrol dripped slowly on the road.

"Your jewels, duke. I fancy you will find them intact, and also Mr. Haines'. We had better, I think, go to his rooms in the dower-house; the list of things missing is there, and there would be more privacy."

The four walked to the house in absolute silence, and the duke himself locked the door of the room.

"Now," he said, standing by the table, "first duty, Mr. Blake, is to thank you for what I confess seems to me the miraculous restoration of my property, and for showing me these—these people, who abused my hospitality, in their true light. My next duty will be more painful, but before I come to that I should be obliged if you could explain how you got at the truth of this extraordinary affair."

"It was not so very difficult," said Blake. "The moment I saw the library, and had time to examine it, I was sure that the theft was the work of someone intimate with the house, either guest or servant, and I inclined to the idea of the former.

"When I found that soap had been used to obtain an impression of the key, I saw at once that not only had you and Mr. Haines been as careful as you said, for otherwise the soap would have been unnecessary, but also that the theft was the act of someone with a fair knowledge of metal working.

"When I examined the safe, I also found these in the jamb of the door." He placed on the table a small box, in which were three or four glittering silver tinsel sequins and a bit of white thread.

"That meant to me that a woman had, at any rate, been a partner in the theft—that it had been done late in the evening, or at any rate after she had dressed for dinner—and that she was wearing a gown covered with sequins of some light colour— white or pearl grey, say—and, of course, that she was a guest, not a servant. Unless, that is, the duchess herself had such a dress and was in the habit of going to the safe in person. This you and Mr. Haines both assured me was not the case.

"The contents of the safe told me something further. Mr. Haines' parcel was found tied up and apparently intact—you yourself advised him to cut the string. Now that string was tied with a very peculiar knot. But Mr. Haines himself had tied the original parcel, and would most certainly have been incapable of tying the knot in the cut string—no one who hadn't travelled in Somaliland and been up-country could have, for it is a very difficult one to tie without much practice—though when tied it holds very firmly, and it is peculiar to Somali bearers and packers in securing their loads.

"I knew, of course, that Captain Marne was of the house-party, and I read some time ago of his African shooting trips. Mr. Haines also told me that he had been recently in Somaliland when I questioned him about the trophy of spears.

"I spent a good deal of time chatting to the upper servants. Your housekeeper and I got on famously, and from her—though she didn't know it—I obtained the information that Lady Lucy here had just such a dress as I was looking for, and had worn it on several recent occasions. Also that at one time she had taken up the craze for enamel work and metal work, which is so popular nowadays.

"Further, the housekeeper had only the week before borrowed the library key from the groom of the chambers—after Mr. Haines had gone for the night—and had borrowed it for Lady Lucy, who wanted to examine a book of designs. In this way she got an impression of both library and safe keys, and made duplicates at her leisure in her own room. To anyone with even a slight knowledge of metal working this would be a simple matter. That she did actually do so I can prove by having found a few fine particles of steel filings on the floor there.

"Another detail I learnt was, that though you, duke, are averse to gambling, bridge was being played till all hours for very high stakes, and both Lady Lucy and Captain Marne were notoriously hard hit.

"From these few facts—or, rather, the conjunction of facts—and the way that they dovetailed in, I was sure as to who had committed the theft. The more difficult question to solve was where were the jewels?

"You had told me that a thorough search had been made, even to the boxes of the guests and servants. You also mentioned that Lady Lucy had been particularly insistent that that should be done. From that I gathered that either she had hidden the jewels in some hiding-place which she thought might defy detection, and from which she could abstract them later when the hue-and-cry was over, or that she had already removed them.

"The former was both less risky and more likely. I cast about in my mind for a probable spot—for, of course, she and her husband would be prepared for a thorough search when the loss became known—and whilst strolling about the grounds I noticed two facts; the rain-gutters and overflow pipes of the castle are of unusual shape and size, and one of them opens within easy arm-stretch of Lady Lucy's room, the windows of which are so placed that nothing can overlook them.

"It was worth trying, and I did. Sure enough, I found the top end of a long length of fine picture wire, from which a weight was suspended. The near end of the wire was fast to a rusted nail, a foot or so down the pipe, and quite invisible.

"I hauled the wire in gingerly, and found the jewels. Then, and not till then, I got you to send the telegrams announcing that they had been found, and sent a paragraph to the papers saying that you had gone to town.

"Lady Lucy would, I knew, take alarm at the telegram, and the moment she saw by her papers that the coast was clear, dash over on the first opportunity, make some excuse to go to her room—whilst her husband kept Haines busy with inquiries—and remove the jewels for good. To catch them doing so would be proof conclusive, and though I needed no further evidence, I fancied you might. The rest was simple. They stopped the car in the avenue out of sight, slipped the jewels from under her motor-coat into the tank—the cover-bolts of which were ready loosened—and there they are intact before you. The petrol will do them no harm!"

The duke said nothing, his face was drawn with pain as he sat down to a writing-table near by. Not a sound was to be heard but the ticking of the clock and the steady scratch of his pen.

When he rose he held in one hand a sealed envelope, in the other a cheque. The envelope he handed to Blake.

"A slight acknowledgment of your invaluable assistance." he said courteously. "Lucy, there is here another cheque for five hundred pounds. You and your husband will be in London to-night—to-morrow you will communicate with me from Bruges. If you fail to do so, or attempt to return to England, or leave Bruges without my consent, you will both be arrested for theft. On this day every year, my solicitors will forward you a further cheque for five hundred—not a farthing more or less. Now go!"

Lady Lucy and Captain Marne turned away, cowed and beaten. The duke unlocked the door, and stood silently by, watching them as they passed out. Then he crossed to the telephone and rang :

"Collins! Do you recognise my voice? Very well. You have my authority to re-open the park gates—the Lady Lucy and her husband will wish to leave shortly on their car.

"Mr. Blake, I feel suddenly old and tired—might I trouble you for the help of your arm? I shall hope to see you later in the evening at dinner."


THE END


Roy Glashan's Library
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