THE AFFAIR OF THE NECKLACE.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CVIII, Issue 12999, 15 December 1902, Page 4

THE AFFAIR OF THE NECKLACE.

(By L. H. 3MKVLSME SHAAV.) , Author of “.AVanjce, etc. Tho ©vents on which this narrative dwells hinged upon a very simple occurrence—the occurrence being that I and! another person happened to meet in tho shop of a Regent Street jeweller. Among my contemporaries at Cambridge was on© Ronald Roimldson, as good a follow as ever breathed). Though ho and I belonged to quitcidifferent set® at iho University, wo nevertheless struck up a thick! friendship—a friendship which has over ■since existed. Our common taste for geological study first brought us together. Wo were both reading men. AY hen Ronalds on had taken/ his degree, ho went back to London and, following the family tradition, entered his father’s’ business. Ho was the only son. Hite father died shortly afterwards, leaving him tfid entire business of “ Ronaldsom and Bonis,, jewellers,” with its income: o/f upwards of fivo thousand a year. The- busines's founded more than tiro and a half centuries' bo-i fore by Randal Itonaldson, a rich old Quaker goldsmith, had been carried on by no less than seven generations of his descendants. AVhencver I found myself in, town, I never failed to call on Ronald son. Save during August and September, he might always be found in Regent Street, between! eleven and four. One morning about four years after his) father's 1 death, X strolled into the familiar! premise’s. Ronaldson was chatting to his manager. He came, forward and grasped' my hand. After talking for a few minutes, principally about a paper hei had recently read before th© Geological Society, -ha said: "And now I’ve got something to show you. Tdl me what you think itVworth.” Ho placed a magnificent diamond necklace—at least I thought at the. tame it wad a diamond necklace.—in my hanlds. I be* gnn to examine it minutely. The gold was of filigree work of marvellous complexity and beau tv. The baud contained seven s toueb, byilian'ts, of far greater ! size than any one usually sees in a jewellers window. From beneath, the, middle stone o‘£ the hand, there hung a cross of quaint design in which were set five; more brilliants, those at the. corners of the cross surpassing tho seven others in size, and tho e-ehtoal stone being almost as large) os a!ll the others put together. The necklace looked 'to me! as though it must- bo worth a fortune. “ AA 7 ell, what’s its value?” came Ronaldson’s voice while I was still scrutinising and admiring. “ Fifty thousand,” I answered at haphazard. “No, a hundred and twenty-five pounds ■ including my own profit, which is not a small one.” nt “ Then the stones are only paste “ Yes—hut paste of the finest quality, and cut as carefully as real diamonds would be cut. The mounting is gold—twentytwo carat.- Putting labour aside, the material is worth altogether about seventeen P °“ And what would the necklace be worth if tho stones wer© really diamonds?” I asked. “ AVas my estimate anywhere near the mark?” “No, a long way out,” he answered. “If they were diamonds or ordinarily good quality, they would be worth between eighty and ninety thousand pounds; if of the first water, perhaps as much as a hundred and ten thousand—perhaps even. more. Have you noticed the peculiarities of tho cross “ What peculiarities do you mean?” I asked.

“ Look—you see at the top there are seven small serratures, on the right-hand side five, pn the left three, while at the bottom there is a human face in profile —a woman s face apparently. Noting .these peculiarities, you would always bo able to recognise the original if you happened to come across it.” “Have you had this made from the original, then?” “No, I only assume the existence of an original, though I feel no doubt about its existence. • This was made by my workmen from a design on paper. Give me the drawing, AVilliams,”—this to his manager. I compared the necklace with the drawing, tho latter beautifully executed in ink. The copy appeared to b S exact, to the minutest detail. I was still comparing the two when another person entered the shop. “That’s the owner,” Ronaldson said to me in a whisper. “He ordered tho necklace two months ago, and we promised to have it ready to-day.” Tho stranger was a tall, powerfully-built man, dressed in the height of fashion. His features were unmistakably Teutonic; he 'looked like a German officer.

I scanned him closely while he compared the necklace with the drawing. Alter a few seconds he said, speaking with a strong foreign accent:

“Ah, yes it is very Seventyfive pounds I pay now, do I not?” He had paid a deposit of £SO when ordering the necklace.

AATiile Eonaldson’s manager was putting the necklace into its case, the stranger counted out seventy-five sovereigns on the counter. Then, declining a proffered receipt, he put the drawing and th© case containing the necklace in his pocket, wished Ronaldson and his manager good morning, and left the shop. “ I suppose that will be worn by the owner of the original, who thinks it safer to keep the real thing at her bankers,” I said.

One would naturally suppose so,” Ronaldson answered. “ That’s what imitations are usually made for-—when they’re not made to enable the owner to sell th© original and still keep her relatives and friends under the impression that she possesses it and wears it. Yet I can’t help tninking that there’s something beyond either of these in this particular piece of business.” “AA 7 hy?” “ I can scarcely say why—ralthough the fact of the man refusing his name and address and paying in gold is sufficient to create suspicion of rogguery. Aly own suspicion, however, is apart from this. I feel the strongest conviction that that fellow — he has the tvpical burglar’s jaw—is a born rogue ; and I’m under a distinct impression that one of these days the owner of the original necklace "vvill be somewhat startled by the discovery that she’s been wearing paste instead of, as she thought, _ diitomouds.’’ a “You mean that the imitation $ substituted fon the original by a tial servant —or perhaps oven by an impecunious relative.” “ Exactly,” Ronaldson answered. If I knew who the owner of tho original was, I should at once advise her as to the existence of- the imitation.” Then the subject of the necklace dropped. Towards the end of the following July —about three months after I had handled the paste necklace in Ronaldson’s shop—my wanderings took me to Hildesheim. I had been staying a few days , with some friends in Brunswick, and, having never seen Hilesheim, I decided to devote a few hours to visitinv the picturesque old city. I reached Hildesheim soon after- eleven in the morning. Finding my way to the Hotel D’Angleterre, I there booked a bed for tho night, and then, after a light luncheon, went forth to “do” all that my guide-book told mo was most worthy of notice. I need not dwell upon what I saw in Hildesheim, or the pleasure I derived from seeing it. Let mo merely say that at six o’clock, tired out and as hungry as a hunter, I once more found myself in the Holier AATg and within a couple of minutes’ walk of my Hotel. Then it was that I stopped to glance into a shop window containing photographs of crowned heads and other prominent people, as well as those of objects of local interest. I entered the shop and bought about a dozen of the latter. AVhile the shop-keeper was packing them up, a portrait among several others which lay about the counter caught my attention —the portrait of a lady in Court dress.

Something familiar in tho photograph fixed iny gaze, yet for a moment or two I could not imagine what it might be. Then suddenly I realised that it was the necklace—a necklace the design of which exactly resembled that of the one Ronaldson had shown me.

“ Whose photograph is this?” I asked the shopkeeper in German. He glanced at thd'porbrait and said:

“ That, sir - , is our Grand Duchess of Schloss-Himmerstein. A most noble lady. I see from the paper that, with her son, the Grand Duke, she is to leave for London tonight.” I put the photograph in my pocket and paid for it with the others.

After dinner, I asked a waiter —an Englishman speaking German like a native—to find me if possible a magnifying glass. He soon succeeded in borrowing- one. I examined the photograph by its aid. The increased powers of vision dispelled all possibility of doubt us to the necklace being tho original from which the pen and ink drawing I saw in Ronaldson’s shop had been made. Tho seven, five and three serratures at the top and sides of the cross and the profile at the bottom showed forth clearly beneath tho glass. The drawing might well have been, made from the photograph I was examining. Needless to say, I felt considerably interested by my discovery. I pondered for some time over what Ronaldson had said. I determined to place the photograph in his hands at the very earliest opportunity. Then I turned to the papers, looking for any item of news concerning the movements of the owner of the necklace. Tf soon found the paragraph alluded to by the man from whom 1 had bought the photographs'. It was very brief. Translated, it ran:— “We learn that the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Schloss-Himmerstein will leave for England this evening. During their visit, their residence, so we understand, will be at the Hotel Metropolo, London.”

I started early next morning on my return .to England. Business called me to London for a week or ten days—after which I was duo an Scotland for the opening of the grouse shooting. id was eight o’clock in the evening when I reached Town. I usually slept at my 6lub while staying in London, but with tho Grand Duchess and her necklace in my mind—l had thought .about little else all day—l decided on this occasion to make tha Hotel Metropole my quarters.

So I v drove from tho station to the hotel, as I stood talking to the janitor, while my trunks were being brought in, I saw a man coming towards me through the lobby. Instantly I recognised him as the person who had ordered the paste necklace. He nodded to the janitor as he passed. “AVho’s that?” I said quickly. “He called to see the Grand Duchess, sir,” tho janitor answered.

“Bub who is he—what is his name?” “ He’s a gentleman from the German Embassy, sir, a Baron somebody—l forget the name,—according to bis card.” Acting on a sudden impulse, I determined to follow the man, although I told myself at the same moment that it was mere folly to do so. Yet, the coincidence of meeting him in this way, after tiie. former coincidence of having met in Eonaldson’s shop, and after my having, by the purest chance, discovered the identity of the owner of the real necklace, the Grand Duchess of Schloss-Himmerstein, from whose presence th© man had just come—all these things together seemed to me so odd that I fount it impossible to resist the impulse to follow him. I told the janitor I should he back before long—and I think I rather astonished him by my precipitate departure. The man, walking Hong in a leisurely manner, and swinging his umbrella, was more than a hundred yards away when I again reached tho pavement. I crossed the road, and kept him in /sight, an easy thing to do, for his tall, soldierly figure made him conspicuous among all other wayfarers. He kept towards the west, never once looking round.

As he neared Westminster bridge, ho quickened his pace. I kept the same distance between us, still walking on the opposite side of the road. He began to cross the bridge. Then, for the first time, I felt really suspicious of the man. AATiat, I asked myself, should .an attache of the German ’Embassy want south of the Thames at half-past nine o’clock in tho evening—and in evening dress? He had his overcoat open as he came through tho lobby of the hotel. I followed the man over the bridge and for some little way , along AA’estminster Bridge Road. Then I saw him turn down a narrow side street. AAfiien I reached tho corner, he was still in sight, walking slowly. I continued to follow him. The street a low one, bore a decidedly “ slummy ” appearance. There were several small shops in it. Though it could scarcely be called busy, still there were several people passing up and down. When tho man reached the end of the street, he stopped and turned, and stood lighting a cigar. At the moment he turned, I found myself opposite a boy who was burying along carrying a basket. The boy stopped instantly at my gesture. _ I told him I would give him a shilling if ho stood just where ho was and talked to me for a few minutes.

“ As long as you like at that rate, Qjyvcrnor,” he answered.

I began to question th© boy about his home and bis work. Soon the ihan, his cigar properly alight, lounged slowly back along the narrow pavement. After passing us, he turned again. I carried on a continuous conversation with th© boy all the while. Half a dozen times at least the man strolled up and down the street. I kept my face turned from him each time he came near. At last he stopped by a house opposite the second lamp-post from the Westminster Bridge Road end of the street. I saw him open the door with a latch-key and enter. For a few minutes longer I stood talking to the boy. Then together we walked leisurely back to the main thoroughfare, when I presented th© hoy with his shilling. I took note of the number of the house as we passed—’No. 23. I hailed tho first hansom I could find. “ Hotel Metropole, for all you’re worth,” was my order to th© cabby. When I reached the hotel I found the janitor and a waiter talking by the door; I handed my card to the latter — sSjjkPlease take this to the Grand Duchess HpSchloss-Himinerstcin. and say that I Jh to see her immediately on the most important business.” The waiter departed on his mission, while I stood wondering whether I was making a fool of myself or not. In a short time th© waiter returned, asking me to follow him. I ascended the stairs. A youth of not more than sixteen or seventeen stood at the door of the. Grand Duchess’s suite. “Air Harding?” he said as I approached. He spoke with but the slightest foreign accent. “ Yes.” “ Yon wish to see my mother, the. Grand Duchess ?” “Yes—about her necklace. Has her necklace been stolen?” “No, it has lint been stolen,” the young Grand Duko answered, looking me up and down rather suspiciously. “ She is wearing it at the present moment.” “ But her visitor—at about a quarter to nine—who wa.s he?”

“Do you mean Baron von Ketlinger of the German Embassy?” “ Are you sure it was Baron von Kctlingcr?” .

A puzzled look crossed bis face. “Did the man have"the Grand Duchess’s necklace in his hands?” t continued. “Yes. it is true that he had.” At this point I knew for certain that I was not making a. fool of mrself. “Then lie has stolen it!” I exclaimed, rather excitedly I think. “The necklace the. Grand Duchess is wearing now is a —the man changed the. one for> th© other. Arc you sure he was Baron von Ketlinger ?” “ On his card i't was so,” the Grand Duka answered. “ But we had not seen hirfij be-

fore. Baron von Ketlinger has but a few weeks ago been transferred from th© United States to England; This man called to> bring a message to th© Grand Duchess from our Ambassador here.” f “And then ho asked to lo'olc at thefnecklace?”

“ Ye's, that is so. The Grand Duchess allowed him to hold it a.nd examine it near the light. Will you com©, pleas©, quick. From marks on tho necklace we shall know at once if what you think to be is true.”

He led me hurriedly into a room, where sat the Grand Duchess, and two ladies of her suite. The Grand Duchess, a. very beautiful woman., bowed stiffly at tho mention of my name, the necklace flashing as sho did so. In a few words the young Grand Duke explained m'afiters to lier. She took the necklace from her neck; she glanced 'at the back of the mss. I could detect a sudden change of colour in her checks. S,he said very slowly: “No, this is not my nielokla.ee."

I turned to the Grand 1 Duke. “ Will you conte with m.e( to Scotland Yard' at once?” I said. “I’ve tracked the man to his house; AA 7 e ought not to lose a moment;”

He reeded no second bidding. AA’ci hurried to Scotland Yard. On the way I gave liilm a, brief account of everything tha* had; happened from' the time I saw the paste necklace in Ronaldson’s shop. They are brisk if nothing else «t Scotland Yard. The official to whom I spok© seemed to grasp the details of the case almost before I had time to state thiem. Two plain-clothes officers were promptly summoned to attend: us. | A few seconds afterwards we —the Grand Duke l , the two officers 'and mys/elf—wet© being rattled along in a four-Wheeier towards AAtestminstei/Bridge Road. We drew up about tWo hundred yards from the stireefc to which I had followed, “ Baron von Ketlinger,” and dismfc'sed 1 tha oah. Them the senior pMn-clothes officer spoke to a policeman. After’ ia, brief conversation it was arranged, that the policeman. and the other officer shook! make their way throngh a miews, and station them* s'elves at the back of No. 23, in order .frustrate any attempt to escape in tßriati 'direction, and that th© senior officer, tire Grand Duke and myself should them, carton at thie street door. AA 7 © were to give the others five minuten’ law.

At the end of the five minutes we moved! forward towards. No'. !?3. A girl carrying a- jug of beer was just cratering os we readied the door. “AAfiridr is the. tall gciitkinaris room?’ the 1 officer said to her. “Air Smith?” " Yes.” “ First floor, on the left. D’you want to sec him?” “All right—we can find our way up, the officer answered. Quick!v and quietly we mounted the stairs. The officer tried the door on the left; it was locked. “Who’s there?” came a voice from inside the room. . , “ Ale, sir," the officer said dn a highpitched falsetto. “ AA 7 hat do you want ?” “ I want to speak to you, sir ”■—in the game female voice. \

“I can’t see you now; I’m busy. Come up again in a quarter of an hour. By way of answer, the officer drew back about a couple of feet, and then launched his full weight against the door. It flew open with a loud crash. I saw “Baron von Ketlinger” spring from his seat by the table—l saw him stretch forth his "hand towards a revolver which lay thereon. The same instant the officer bounded forward like a tiger and bore his opponent back against the wall. Kretchmar—for such the man’s name proved to be—made a good fight <?f it. But ho was powerless against our united strength. The handcuffs were soon fixed upon his wrists. He had been busy since last I saw him. In the place of evening dress, he wore a light tourist’s suit; his moustache had been shaved off. A hand-bag ready packed stood near the dooi - . On the table lay the Grand Duchess’s diamonds. They had been removed from their getting by means of a pair of small cutting pliers.

Had wo been five minutes later, we should probably have found him gone. He proved to be a Prussian officer, wlm had/ been dismissed from the army for cheating at cards. His plan for gaining possession of the necklace wa.s cleverly conceived and cleverly carried out. Only by the. merest chance were his ends defeated. The next night I hafi the honour of dining with the Grand Duchess and her son. The real Baron von Ketlinger was also present. Needless perhaps to say, we talked principally about the affair of the necklace. A few weeks afterwards, while in Scotland, I received by post, a magnificent gold snuff-box bearing tho Arms of tie Grand Duchy of Schloss-Himmerstein. A scroll beneath the arms represented the necklace ; it was carved in relief and set with diamonds. Tho box contained a letter from the Grand Duchess, reiterating her thanks for tho services I had rendered her, and begging me to accept “ this small present ” as a testimony of her gratitude.

The snuff-box and the letter are among my most cherished possessions.