THE COUNTESS’ DIAMONDS

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLII, Issue 7, 17 February 1909, Page 57

THE COUNTESS’ DIAMONDS

COPY! SG <T.

By

JOHN SWEENEY

THE Countess of Kensington was in tears. Her diamcmds had gone. Three thousand pounds’ worth. Heirlooms and wedding gii s. This was Lord Kensington’s gieeting after a late night at his club. Lord Kensington did not show frantic feigns of despair, but he looked annoyed. “Let us send to Scotland Yard after breakfast,” he said. The Countess wept again. “After breakfast! Why, every moment is precious. L have already sent for Mr. Link.” “Who the deuce is Link?” said his lordship. “Link is a retired detective.” “?Seems to me you want a detective svho is still in the business.” “Link is still in it. - I meant he had j-etired from the profession.” “He is now an amateur, I suppose,” •s id Lord Kensington cynically. ‘ “No,-stupid. ue has merely thrown off the trammels of Scotland Yard red tape, and now he seems to unravel easily every mystery.” : “Well, bring on your Sherlock Holmes, and let us see what he can do,” said her husband. By this time breakfast was served. Before they had finished Mr Link was announced. . Mr. Link was formerly one of ».‘.Gotland Yard’s most trusted inspectors. Retired on a good pension at an early age, he was in the prime of life. We may learn the story* of the robbery as Lady Kensington told it to the listening detective. “Last night,” said the Countess, “I wore all my diamonds. What I have written and sketched on this paper will give an accurate description of the gems and their setting. Aly husband and 1 were at the King’s; Drawing Room yesterday. I wore all my diamonds. We returned in the electric brougham. My husband only remained in the house long enough to change his uniform, and then hurried off to his club in Pall Afall. I did not see him again until half an hour ago. Aly maid helped me to undress; My diamonds were perfectly safe then. Watk*ns (my maid’s name) chocked them with me, and I put them in and locked my jewel case which I left in the dressing-room. After attending to my hair and other little toilet duties my maid' saw me to bed, and then left me. Lord Kensington will tell you what time he came home. He sleeps in his own room on the other side of the corridor. My dressing-room adjoins my bedroom, and there is no exit from the former into the corridor except through my bedroom. I sleep fairly well as a rule. I heard no sound through the night. This morning I woke at seven, an unusually early hour for me. Watkins brought me a cup of tea, and I arose about 8.30. While dressing I noticed the absence of the jewel box, and called Watl <ins’ attention to it, she being in the room. I imagined she had placed it on a chair or somewhere else. I shrieked: when she said she had not moved it. She remembered the exact spot where 1 had placed it. We searched all corners of my rooms, and then I seht for you.” Lady Kensington burst into tears again, and the detective finished making u few notes before he asked a few questions of his lordship. Aly lady's husband could throw no light at all on the subject. He confirmed his wife's statement as to his own movements. lie returned home between 3 and 4 a.in., and, in accordance with custom, he knocked at his wife’s door before going to his own room. He received no answer, but this was not unusual. He noticed no light, and heard Do noise. Everyone had retired. He

did not lock the front door, which opened with a patent lock in which be had full confidence. He knew the diamonds well. He would recognise them anywhere. They were worth over a quarter of a million. He saw them last when he said good-night to his wife when he went to dress for the club. The Countess answered the detective’s questions with more animation than her husband. Y’es, he could see the rooms, of course. She did not suspect her maid, but Y\ atkins was the last person who had access to her rooms before she locked herself in for the night. Watkins had been with her for five years; she came from Sandgate, having been with Lady Sandgate until that lady's death, live years ago. Watkins had an excellent character. There were eight servants in the house. Watkins was 38 years of age, and she did not think there was any follower. She had never heard Watkins speak of any special friend, but one or two old friends from Sandgate House called to see her sometimes. Coming to think of it. one man about her own age had been to the house more than once lately. She understood he was Lord Sandgate’s coachman. He had been at the house two days before the robbery. Before interviewing the servants, Air Link paid a visit to the Countess’s boudoir, and after closely’ examining both rooms he made a map and rough sketch of the rooms, corridor, doors and windows. The bedroom windows looked on to the lawn and garden.’ Th? dressing room had two windows, but both were of stained glass. They' opened with difiificulty, and not until some rusty screws had been withdrawn. The Countess explained that as the windows overlooked the servants’ quarters of the next house in Piccadilly they had not been opened for years. The usual glass ventilator, with an electric fan. kept the rpom well aired, and the bedroom was fragrant with the smell of garden flowers. Both rooms were on the third floor, the Countess having chosen this high altitude because of the view over the Park which it gave her. After thoroughly examining the three windows of the bedroom, the detective gazed steadily from each to the garden below*. He appeared to be impressed by the beauty of the scene, until the Countess became a little impatient. When she noticed a smile on his face as he returned from the window she said she thought one in his profession would have had little thought of the mere beauties of Nature. “Alt, your ladyship,” he said, his smile dying away, “one can never a fiord to neglect the inspiration of a morning breath of fresh air.” And now he descended to the garden. ‘‘Has anyone been into the garden this morning?” Fortunately no one had. owing to the recent rain. Stooping low, Air Link carefully searched for footsteps beneath her ladyship's window. There were none, although the muddy impressions of his own boots showed plainly enough. He found his way to the high wall surrounding the garden. Here was an old door in the wall, which resisted al! his efforts to open. Clearly the wall was impassable, ami the door unused for age*. Beside the wall grew an old creeper covering it and tin* door—an unlying witness to the fact that none had disturbed either for years. During the next few days Mr. Link spent his time in Piccadilly, interviewing servant* ami taking measurements and other observations. Ho particularly seemed to divide his time between searching the garden. ami finding out all there was to be known of the Kensington fam-

ily history. He did not fail to question Watkins, and at his request Lord Sandgate's coachman was sent for. Link's clever cross-examination put the poor man into t'*.e direst consternation. Link made notes and tested his answers, apparently soon arriving at a definite conclusion as to that person’s guilt or innocence. After ten days’ search Air. Link informed the Countess hat he had not succeeded, and asked that he might communicate with the regular police, from whom he usually obtained some assistance in these matters. 'To this the Countess gave an unqualified negative. On being pressed for her reasons she said she never knew* who might bo proved to be the guilty person, and provided she got back her jewels- she had no wish to pose as a prosecutor at the Old Bailey. Undeterred, Air. Link continued his researches. He inquired amongst the pawnbrokers of his extensive acquaintance. He wrote to a number of trusted correspondents abroad. Then he disappeared for about three, weeks, during which time the Countess received the briefest of letters, apparently written by a clerk, saying Air. Link was following a promising clue but giving no further hint of where Mr. Link was to be found. On his return the detective gave instructions for a thorough search to be made in every part of the gardens, in the lake, and wherever the ground seemed' fresh enough to warrant the idea that it might have been recently opened. Link asked questions as various unexpected articles were discovered, but there were more things than one which the outdoor servants know nothing about, but assumed they had been purchased by former gardeners, nothing beyond quite ordinary gardening and similar implements being found. Air. Link, however, expressed his satisfaction with the search, ami it was then abandoned. A telegram from Pari; took Air. Link to that city, and when he came bac«. anyone who knew’ the detective could have gathered from the sly smile that played round his usually’ impassive features that he had unravelled the diamond mystery. He met the Countess ami informed her that he was now prepared to make a full disclosure. “Shall we send for Lord Kensington before we begin?’’ he suggested. “Well, no,’’ said her ladyship. “we can send for him later on; first let me know all the facts. Besides, who is instructing you? It is T, not my’ husband. The diamonds are mine, not his.’’ “Wait a moment,” said the detective, “perhaps I had better place the matter in the hands of the police.” “Can't you see how you are torturing me,” said the Countess, now' moved to tears. “For God’s sake go on. You say you know all. Tell me all you know.” Thus bidden, the detective iohl his tale.

“Those diamonds, my lady, could nere bp sold in a small city. I knew the most likely markets, and I have had friendly agents watching in the chief continental centres as well as in England, with full instructions from me how to act. While they have been waiting I have studied the history of your family . I wondered from the first why yon forbade me to oiler rewards or to communicate with Scotland \ard. Your servants, do not a*k me which, gave me my first clue when I learnt that you were.once suspected of having a lover. Ah! Do not speak. I know it was a lie. But with all your precautions a young man has been seen twice here at night. Let me go on. I know all. I traced your husband’s history tirst, and could find no flaw in h»s unromantic career. I asked him no question''. out I looked for your own family. A ou were an orphan when you married. Your guardian. Lady Seavers, gave me no mon* information than she gave your husband. But registers of births can speak. Lady Kensington. Prison rolls and Newgate calendars can be consulted. You have a brother.” Lady Kensington sobbed out. “Where is he? I see you know all.” Mr. Link no longer smiled. Kvcn his serious face looked graver than usual. “Those diamonds, my lady,” ho continued, “wen* offered for sale in Paris. Your brother was followed ami arrested, lie is at present in a Paris prison.” “(’barged with the robbery?” “No, not yet, my lady, lie left the diamonds with my agent, and fled as soon as be saw Ire was suspected. He was followed, and to prevent mistakes he was given into the custody of the Paris police on a charge of assault. He has no friends in Paris, ami cannot get bail. If the prosecutor fails to identify him next week the prisoner will be released. It. is for you to say if In* shall be charged with a more serious crime.” “For me,” said the Countess, brightening up a little. “Then, of course, t.hj incident is at an end. You will give me your bill, and my diamonds, and there is an eml to the matter.’’ “Not at all,” said the detective. “Those diamonds are not wholly yours. Your husband's heirlooms cannot be dismissed in that way. I charge you with a conspiracy to rub him. You forget I know all the fads. 1 know how you and your brother plotted and arranged this rob bery.” Lady Kensington fell at the detective’s feet. “Pity me! O! if you know’ all, you understand all. 1 am the most, miserable woman on earth, (‘an you not let this pass? Believe me. 1 would rather die than offend rny huslxuml. who is the only man in the world 1 ever loved. It won hl brea.k his he-art and mine if be only knew.” Mi'.. Link’s familiaiitv with the whole facts added einphasi to her a-firc-ting

appeal. His heart was touched, but lie had long ago made ujrhis mind as to the right course in her interests as well as in those of justice and mercy. “Countess, only on condition that you tell all to your husband, can I save your brother from the prison he richly deserves, ami you from exposure and disgrace.’ After much ineffectual pleading the Countess sobbed out a broken-hearted consent. When her husband came she looked like a dead woman. The detective and his lordship were frightened, and the latter would have Bent for a doctor, but she begged him to listen and not let her have another hour's suspense. Whilst she was getting ready to speak the detective answered Lord Kensington's quick, eager questions by a few remarks, preparing the way for her confession, begging his hearer not to interrupt, but to wait till the end before commenting. This was Lady Kensington's story—Mr. Link bowing corroboration as she proceeded. “My happiest years have been those of niy married life. I never loved til! I met you. dear. 1 shall never love anyone else. And yet I have kept somethin g from you. Lady Seavers never told you of my family. 1 was an orphan. and you took her word for my history. My father was a clergyman, as Ibhe told you. 1 knew. Jittie of my parent*. but 1 know they were good. But 1 have an only brother. lie was in prison when 1 married. Ah* do not curse me. 1 pitied him at first, but later 1 got to hate him. He has never left me a year alone since he came out of gaol. 1 feared your anger if you knew 1 had deceived you. and I feared to disgrace you. And I loved you so. I need not tell you of all the money I have given him. I have never been extravagant. and your generosity has always given and asked no questions. hen you received an anonymous letter telling you 1 had «a lover, can I ever forget your loving kindness. How you believed me. and how I hated myself for not telling you all. Then T determined to end it. 1 nsked Wilford (my brother) for what price he would leave me for ev He at once thought of the

Kensington diamond*. This was six mouths ago, but 1 never had any peace after that. Vt hen at last he threatened to do a mischief 1 despairingly gave in. He arranged everything, and told me what to do. On the nigud ot the Drawing Room 1 put the diamonds in the jewel box ready to be put into the safe next day. 1 went to bed until 1 heard y our knock, and your kind good-night. Then 1 rose, and gave a signal at my window. Wilford was waiting in the side street outside the garden wall, from where he could see my window. I then fetched the jewel box from the. dressing-room, and waited at the open window of the bedroom. As soon as the police patrol had got well away Wilford hoisted a long telescopic iron rod to the window, and Infixed the ring of the jewel box to the hook as he had arranged. The box swayed a little at first, but leached its destination easily enough, and. I closed the window quietly, and went to bed again. I could not sleep then, and I have never had a single night's rest since. That is all my story, and I ask you to forgive. Forgive me, and tell me what xve can do. The diamonds are safe, and Wilford is in prison. But I am miserable beyond all words. Say that you forgive me!’’ Lord Kensington had been an impatient listener all this time. He loved liis wife with uncommon love, and her tale of woe filled him with a sympathy impossible for a man of his calm manners to express. Now. instead of speaking, he embraced his wife as he had never done before, and it needed no words for her to understand she was forgiven. “Go on. Mr. Detective." said his lordship,- “I want to know what more there is to be told. But one thing i have known for the past two years. The Countess’s worthless brothey came to me himself one day. and told me the story of his life. He blackmailed me into allowing him £SOO a year -on condition that he never troubled niy poor wife. So you see we are a foolish couple, and I, too, have to ask forgiveness.’’ In a few words Mr. Link told all he knew. The grazed paint on the window of the bedroom, and some fresh chips on the old stone, of which the house was built, together with the absence of

footprints on the turf, had first given him a clue to the method of the thief. The garden wall had also been disturbed, and the search in the garden had revealed the telescopic iron rod with a hook at the end. This was found in the old creeper on the wall. We have already seen the other steps Mr. Link took to run to earth tlie diamond robber. The restoration of the gems, the re■ward of. Mr. Link, and the complete and lasting confidence which was added to an increasing love between Lord and Lady Kensington brings our story to an end. In an hotel smoke room in Brisbane, a certain frequenter often boasts in his cups of his relationship to a well-known Knglish peeress. “Do you know,”. he .sometimes adds, “I get twenty-five pounds every month from a banker here, on condition that I don’t leave Australia. Well, what’s the matter with Australia? Who wants to leave Australia? Have a drink.”