INSPECTOR PLAYFAIR’S NOTEBOOK—6. The Capricorn Chalice

Southland Times, Issue 23502, 7 May 1938, Page 13

INSPECTOR PLAYFAIR’S NOTEBOOK—6. The Capricorn Chalice

THE theft of the- Capricorn Chalice—the treasured heirloom of the Earls of Epstanger—was carried through without a hitch. This coup was planned by Dehner Demure, known at one time as the “Bayard of Borstal,” who, when he got away with the chalice, had to his credit —if credit be the right word to use —at least three major felonies. It was he who had “lifted” Lady Lacklight’s pendant at the Powcester’s New Year Ball. It was he who, from a wedding reception in Pimlico, had spirited away the Dixborough diamonds. And it was he who had forced an “impregnable” strong room on the liner Contessa Emilia. Delmer Demure liked what he was apt to call “fun.” The theft of the Capricorn Chalice was “fun.” He planned the raid on Epstanger Hall partly—as he was only too ready to admit—because, at the time, he was very short of funds; but partly also because Everard Fitzhurst had bragged, at a Mayfair cocktail party, that the family heirloom was unstealable. Delmer indulged in an inward laugh when young Fitzhurst made this boast. And that very night, at Petunia Waybury’s flat, he had laid his plans for its capture. They were carried out some four or five weeks later. The occasion was the coming-of-age of Everard’s sister, Marigold. It was not very difficult for Delmer to arrange to represent The Stargazer. The Epstanger family, for one reason or another—one might, for example, mention certain West African gold mines—was thirsting for publicity. Pictures of Marigold’s celebrations, featuring prominently the Earl and his Countess, could not do harm, and might do quite a bit of good. And it was not very difficult to arrange that Petunia, the best p§l a cracksman ever had, should be haindy with her Bentley in a neighbouring village. Nor, finally, was it difficult to arrange that Delmer, complete with his photographs of Marigold’s coming-of-age, should catch the night express from Sleethorpe, which is the nearest main line station to Epstanger Hall. All that remained was to collect the Chalice itself. And that, by Delmer Demure standards, was just child’s play. The heirloom was kept in a special safe in the library at Epstanger Hall. All Delmer had to do was to obtain, in town, an impression of the key—not difficult, for a master of sleight-of-hand—and to proceed to his objective armed with a duplicate thereof. As he and Petunia drove down to the Hall, on a sunny afternoon in January, he felt confident enough that another success was in sight. “Attention to detail,” said Delmer, as he brought the car to a halt in the market square at Helmby. “That, my dear Petunia, is the sine qua non in crime, as in less exacting fields. “Why do my ventures so seldom fail? Because they are carefully thought out. Why am I stopping here? Because

n I’m going to buy you an ordnance map. Why am I buying you an ordnance map? Because you must not go wrong to- - morrow. a “And why—excuse this flood of rhetorical questions—why am I putting on my gloves? Because I think V of everything. I have no change on e me, and I must pay for my map with a •- note. And, as it might be an essential y part of my defence that I have never y been near Helmby, I am not going to *' run the smallest risk.” 0 So saying, he wiped his pound note •_ clear of fingerprints before buying ‘ Petunia a half-inch map of Sleethorpe s and district. Nor was this all. He was careful as j soon as he had bought the map, to remove from it the label which gave the vendor’s name and address. The rest of Delmer’s movements were „ strictly according to plan. The following day, in his newspaper capacity, he attended Marigold’s birthday lunch. He s was present also, that evening, at the 5 Epstanger Hall dance. At 11.30, with the aid of his duplicate ' key, he removed the Chalice from its ' resting place. At 11.45, having left no *■ trace of his handiwork, he departed for ' Sleethorpe Station. " At 12.10 he caught the express for ' King’s Cross; at 12.35, when the train stopped at Helmby, he handed the 1 Chalice to Petunia, through the window ■ of a rear compartment. (No one wit- • nessed this transaction.) Delmer knew ' well that the loss of the heirloom would be discovered long before he reached ’ King’s Cross, and he strongly sus- '■ pected that some emissary of the Yard ■ would meet him on the platform. Nor was he disappointed. It was : Joshua Playfair in person who met, him at the terminus and who, at his ■ own request, searched his baggage. , Demure’s criminal past was sufficiently [ well known to render these attentions inevitable. And it was Playfair who, a couple of days later, invited him to i attend at the Yard for further examina- ; tion. “Mr Demure,” was Playfair’s greeting. “I am still on the track of the Earl . of Epstanger’s Chalice.” “What, you haven’t recovered it yet?” ■ said Demure. “Too bad.” His tone was sympathetic. “I want to ask you some more about ; your own movements. When you went down to Epstanger, did you go by rail?” “No,” said Demure. “I drove down . with a friend.” He proceeded to detail —accurately—Petunia’s name and ad- . dress. “You went through Helmby? I will tell you why I ask. A car was seen in Helmby, which might—though I have no precise account of it—be yours. And the driver of that car, according to some witnesses, met the night express from Sleethorpe on the occasion of the theft. You see what I am getting at, Mr Demure, don’t you?” Demure’s eyelids narrowed. What an ass the fellow was! “I have never,” he said, “been through Helmby in my life. Miss Waybury and I drove down through Garsthwaite.” Now it was Playfair’s turn to look surprised. “Mr Demure,” he said, “I expected better-of you than that. lam sorry, but I have a warrant here for your arrest.” What was the evidence against Demure?

(SOLUTION ON PAGE 14)