Mrs. Vanderstein's jewels

by Mrs. Charles Bryce

  CHAPTER X

  There was no news of the missing ladies in Grosvenor Street; but Gimbletinterviewed all the servants and heard several facts, which gave himfood for thought.

  It was from Blake, the butler, that he received most information. It wasBlake himself, looking heartily scared, with half his usual pompousnessdriven out of him by his anxiety, who opened the door to them and,on hearing from Sir Gregory who it was that accompanied him, beggedGimblet to allow him to speak to him for a few moments. They went intothe morning-room, a cheerful white-walled apartment, gay with books andflowers, and Blake addressed himself to the detective.

  "I'm very glad you've come, sir, I am indeed. Sir Gregory will have toldyou, sir, that Mrs. Vanderstein and Miss Turner, who lives here withher, went out last night to the opera and have not returned. I have beenvery uneasy about them and at a loss to know what to do, sir, for Mrs.Vanderstein mightn't like me to inform the police if so be that she'sgone away on purpose. But I never knew her to go away without informingme of the fact or without any luggage and leaving no address, thoughshe does go off very sudden sometimes to spend a week or so in foreignparts, Dieppe being her favourite, I may say."

  "Indeed," said Gimblet, "was Mrs. Vanderstein in the habit of goingabroad at a moment's notice?"

  "She went very sudden, when the fancy took her, sir, but not so suddenas this. I've known her say at lunchtime to Miss Turner, 'My dear, wewill go to Boulogne by the 2.20 from Charing Cross,' which, lunch beingat one o'clock, didn't leave much time for packing, sir."

  "No, it wouldn't," agreed Gimblet.

  "But in such cases," continued Blake, "the maid would often be leftto follow with the luggage, the ladies taking no more than what theyrequired for the night. But nothing was said to the maid yesterday onthe subject, and I can't think Mrs. Vanderstein would ever go off likethat anywhere, sir, in her evening dress and diamonds."

  "Of course, it being a gala night at the opera, she would be wearingjewels," Gimblet assented.

  "Yes, sir, and that's partly what makes me feel so upset, sir; I'venever known Mrs. Vanderstein to wear so many jewels on one occasion. Itwould have been well worth anyone's while to rob her last night, sir."

  "Really. What was she wearing? Had she valuable jewels?"

  "Indeed, yes," broke in Sir Gregory, "the Vanderstein jewels werefamous."

  "Yes, sir," repeated Blake; "beautiful jewellery indeed. A greatresponsibility, sir, in a household. But I have them always in a safe inthe pantry, where I sleep myself, and if I go out in the daytime it'snever without one of the footmen stays in the room all the time I'maway. At night we have a night watchman always on the premises, sir,and it was him that first alarmed me this morning. He came to my doorabout five o'clock and knocked me up. 'What's the matter?' I called out,thinking at first what with sleep and one thing and another that thehouse was on fire. 'She haven't come in yet,' he said, and it was a fewminutes before I understood what he was driving at. And then I didn'treally feel anxious; though we'd all thought it very strange last night,when Thomas, the second footman, who had gone with the motor to CoventGarden, came back saying that he'd received orders that the car wasn'tto go back to fetch the ladies at all."

  "What? the car was not to go back after the performance?" exclaimedGimblet.

  "No, sir, orders were given to that effect. Still, I thought possiblythey were coming home with some friends, and even this morning I saidto myself that perhaps they were staying the night at a friend's house,having for some reason not been able to get a cab home. I had no doubtI should get a telephone message at any moment, which would explain thewhole of the circumstances. But the morning passed away without ourhearing anything whatever, and by the time Sir Gregory called I was justabout getting ready to go out and make inquiries at the police station."

  Gimblet considered in silence for a few moments.

  "Have you noticed anything unusual of late," he asked, "in the habits ordemeanour of anyone in the house?"

  "No, nothing unusual beyond the fact that Mrs. Vanderstein seemed to beenjoying uncommonly good spirits. I also thought, but it might be it wasonly my fancy, that you couldn't say the same of Miss Turner. Yesterdayshe appeared to be very much down on her luck."

  "Did the idea of an accident occur to you?" asked Gimblet. "Have youinquired at any of the hospitals?" "I telephoned to St. George's, sir,but with no result. I didn't know where else to make inquiries."

  "I understand," said the detective presently, "that Mrs. Vandersteinhas relatives and friends living in London. Did you communicate with anyof them this morning?"

  "No, sir, I did not. I had already telephoned to Sir Gregory last nightand heard he was out of town."

  "Is there no one else to whom you could have appealed for advice? Iunderstand that Mrs. Vanderstein has a nephew or nephew by marriage.Does he live in London?"

  "No, sir, his regiment is quartered in the north of England. But it istrue," Blake stammered, with some appearance of reluctance, "that Mr.Sidney is off and on in London, according as he is able to obtain leave,and I believe he is up at the present moment."

  "I should have thought you would have telephoned to him to-day. Did itnot occur to you to do so?"

  Blake hesitated again. He looked from Gimblet to Sir Gregory, then lethis eyes roam to the window and round the room as if help might be hopedfor from some unlikely source. Finally, they once more encountered thoseof the detective and, under that compelling gaze, he spoke.

  "I did think of it," he faltered, "I should have done so if it had notbeen for one thing. Mr. Sidney came to the house yesterday afternoonand, I don't like to mention it, sir, but I am afraid that he had wordswith his aunt. I have no idea what it was about, sir, but he only stayeda few minutes and as soon as he was gone Mrs. Vanderstein called me andgave me strict orders not to allow him to enter the house in future. Sheseemed very much put out about something and I am sure she wouldn't likeme to have any communications with Mr. Sidney now. It isn't my place toallude to such a thing at all, but in the peculiar circumstances, sirs,I hope you will excuse my saying that Mrs. Vanderstein appeared to me tobe very much put out indeed."

  "Quite so," said Gimblet, "in the peculiar circumstances your propercourse is to tell me everything you can, whether it bears on Mrs.Vanderstein's failure to return home or not. I shall be less likely togo astray after some false scent if I have a thorough knowledge of theprivate affairs of these ladies, and there is no knowing what triflingdetail may not turn out to be useful. Now about these jewels, can youtell me what your mistress wore last night? I should also like to seethe place you keep them in."

  Blake conducted them to the pantry. A small safe let into the wallcontained a quantity of jewel cases, for the most part empty. The butlergave Gimblet a list of what they had contained.

  "I never knew Mrs. Vanderstein to wear so many ornaments at once,"he repeated. "She would mostly wear her pearls and a necklace andperhaps a tiara and a few bracelets and rings, but last night besidesthese she had the two diamond necklaces sewn on to her dress, and theemerald set, which takes to pieces so as to make one big ornament, wassewn on it too. I don't suppose there were many ladies at the galaperformance," said Blake, with some pride, "who wore better jewels thanshe did--unless it was the Queen herself."

  Gimblet requested to be taken over the house, and in the varioussitting-rooms he hunted for some evidence of a documentary character toshow that Mrs. Vanderstein had not intended to return on the previousevening. He looked on the mantelpieces for an invitation which shouldhave been stuck up there, on the writing tables for something of thesame kind. But though cards for different entertainments were notwanting--most of them bearing well-known Jewish names and conveyinginvitations to musical parties--there was nothing suggesting that theladies were to attend one on Monday night. He noticed the subtle odourthat hung about the rooms, and his scrutinising eyes noted with delightthe many beautiful and rare objects of Mr. Vanderstein's collection.

  He would gladly have lingered to exa
mine the pictures that decoratedthe walls, and the priceless china, which stood on cabinets againstthe white panelling. But, deferring this pleasure, he continued hismethodical search in the expectant company of Sir Gregory and thehalf-scandalised Blake, who could not decide in his own mind whether hewas doing right in allowing a detective, even one so well known as Mr.Gimblet, to turn over his mistress' correspondence in this unceremoniousfashion. When the detective's search led him to the door of Mrs.Vanderstein's bedroom, Blake felt himself unable to remain with him anylonger, and summoning Amelie from her workroom he turned over to her theduty of keeping an eye on these doubtful proceedings.

  The news of the detective's presence had spread through the house likewildfire, and Amelie for her part was burning to assist the great man.Quite unhampered by such scruples as those which were felt by the worthybutler, she dragged open drawers, threw wide the doors of cupboards,thrust any letters she could find into Gimblet's hands and invited himto verify for himself the information, or lack of it, which she volublyimparted. She knew there was nothing enlightening in the letters and didnot hesitate to say so. She had read them all long ago.

  "That poor lady," she cried, "they have assassinated her to rob herof her marvellous jewels. Ah, but of that I am well convinced," shedeclared, nodding her head with gloomy satisfaction. "She wore toomany--it was to tempt Providence."

  Gimblet asked her for a list of the jewels and received the same that hehad had from Blake.

  "And will you describe to me what clothes Mrs. Vanderstein wore," heasked, "and also those of Miss Turner?"

  "Madame had on a dress of white _mousseline de soie_, all _diamantee_,"Amelie told him, "ce qu'elle etait belle avec cette robe-la! Over it shewore a magnificent cloak of _crepe de Chine_ and silver lace. The cloakis mauve in the daylight, but in the evening one would say that it waspink. She had on silver shoes and white stockings and carried an antiquefan of great value."

  "And Miss Turner?" Gimblet was writing down her description in hisnotebook.

  "Mademoiselle also was dressed in white, but with a dress much moresimple. She had a cloak of flame-coloured brocade that Madame gave heron her birthday. It is lined with white chiffon; nothing can be morechic."

  As she spoke she glanced in surprise at Gimblet, who was standing in themiddle of the room, his head thrown back, his nostrils expanding andcontracting. As each succeeding drawer had been pulled out he had stoodthere, sniffing appreciation. The vague scent that clung about the lowerpart of the house was more penetrating here, and with each disturbanceof Mrs. Vanderstein's belongings grew stronger. There were flowers aboutthe room, tea roses in many bowls of shining glass; but their faintsweetness was drowned beneath the more powerful smell that pervaded theair.

  "Your mistress uses a delicious perfume," said the detective. "Did shealways have the same one?"

  "It smells good in here, is it not?" said Amelie. "Yes, Madame usesalways the same perfume. See, here it is on her table. It sells itselfvery expensive, but with one drop one may perfume a whole dress.Everything that Madame touches smells of it."

  Gimblet went to the dressing-table and took up the bottle she indicated;he lifted it to his nose and, removing the stopper, took a long, deepsniff. Then recorking the bottle he put it down again with a glance atthe label. "Arome de la Corse," he read, and below, the name of a Frenchperfumery celebrated for the excellence and high prices of its products.

  "Madame is an admirer of the great Napoleon," explained Ameliehelpfully.

  "Who does not share her admiration?" rejoined the detective. "And nowmay I see Miss Turner's room?"

  In Barbara's chamber his stay was short. Here was no arresting perfume,very little suggestion of feminine personality. The room was more likethat of a boy. Photographs adorned the walls; a few books lay about. Acouple of letters were on the table; one was a bill. The other, whichGimblet perused under the sympathetic eyes of Amelie, ran as follows:

  "DEAR MISS TURNER,

  "I put the money on Averstone as you said. So sorry he wasn't placed. He got away badly and had no luck from the start. In haste,

  "Yours sincerely, "J. SIDNEY."

  "Thanks, I think that is all I want just now," said Gimblet, and heturned to leave the room. But Amelie was in no mind to let him go likethat. She had hoped for some confidences, that she might have a theoryto retail downstairs.

  "If Monsieur will listen to my idea," she said, "I will tell him what Ibelieve has happened to Madame. She has been killed for the sake of herjewels. That is what I think. And it would be prudent before making somany inquiries that one should look for her on the floor of her box atthe opera. It is probable that she is there, _la pauvre_, just as theystruck her down and left her!"

  "Thank you for your suggestion," replied Gimblet gravely. "I assure youthat I will not neglect to visit the box. But I think that the bodies oftwo ladies, 'struck down' in it, would have called forth some expressionof astonishment on the part of the caretakers."

  "Monsieur is laughing at me," began Amelie in injured tones, but Gimbletwas already half-way down the stairs.

  On the landing outside the drawing-room door Blake was still hovering.

  "Ah, there you are," Gimblet said. "Can I see the second footman now?Thomas, I think you said he was called."

  Thomas, being summoned, proved to be a tall lad possessing an honest andingratiating smile, adorning a fair and open countenance.

  "It was you, I think," the detective said to him, "who accompanied themotor last night when it left here with the two ladies?"

  "Yes, sir," said Thomas, "I did, sir."

  "And you were told the car would not be required again after the opera?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Can you remember Mrs. Vanderstein's exact words when she gave you theorder not to return?"

  "It wasn't Mrs. Vanderstein who told me, sir," said Thomas, "it wasMiss Turner. 'Mrs. Vanderstein says she won't have the car again thisevening,' she said, and, 'do you understand, Wilcox?' she says--that'sthe chauffeur, Wilcox is; she come running down to speak to him just ashe put the clutch in and we was moving off--'You're not to come to fetchus to-night after the opera,' I heard every word of course as plain asWilcox did. 'Very good, miss,' he says, and she ran back through theswing doors. Mrs. Vanderstein had gone straight in and I didn't see heragain. We was very surprised, Wilcox and me, as it was the first timethat Mrs. Vanderstein hadn't had the motor to bring her home that eitherof us could remember. But orders is orders," concluded Thomas with anengaging smile at Mr. Gimblet, who ignored it.

  "Thank you, that will do for the present," he said; and, when Thomas hadgone, turned once more to Blake.

  "How long has Wilcox been in Mrs. Vanderstein's service?" he asked.

  "He was with Mr. Vanderstein before he married," replied Blake. "Thesame as I was myself, sir. Wilcox was a groom in the old days, butthey had him taught to drive the motor some years ago. He's a mostrespectable, steady man, sir."

  "Thanks, I should like to see him," said Gimblet.

  Wilcox, it appeared, was in the house at the moment, having come roundfrom the garage to hear if there was any news, and Gimblet had him inand cross-examined him. His story was the same as Thomas', with onesmall addition.

  "Was there anything that struck you as the least unusual?" Gimblet askedhim. "Did you notice anything in the appearance of either of the ladies,or overhear anything they said to each other as they got in or out ofthe car, that was not perfectly natural?"

  "No, sir, I did not," said Wilcox stolidly. He was rather a fat man witha very horsey look. "Not that I paid any heed to what they might besaying so long as it wasn't to me they said it. As far as I remember,Mrs. Vanderstein got into the car and Miss Turner after her, and 'ToCovent Garden' one of them says to Thomas, and Miss Turner calls out,'Just stop at a post office on the way.' And so we did."

  "Ah," said Gimblet, "you stopped at a post office, did you? Was thatquite in the usual course? And which post office did you stop at?"

  "I
t was not in the usual course," admitted Wilcox, "in fact, I don'tremember doing it on the way to the opera before. But Miss Turner hada telegram to send. We stopped in Piccadilly and she gave the form toThomas to take into the office. After that we drove straight on to theopera house."

  Thomas, recalled, remembered handing in the telegram, certainly. Didn'tknow why he hadn't thought of mentioning it before. Miss Turner gave hima sealed envelope with "Telegram" written outside it, and told him togive it with some money to the young person in the office, and not tobother about waiting for the change, as they were in a hurry. He did asshe said, and that was all he could tell about it.

  Not much information to be collected from Thomas. Possibly Gimblet'sface showed a trace of disappointment, for the footman added in aregretful tone:

  "I'm very sorry, sir, that I didn't open the envelope so as I could tellyou what the telegram was, sir; but the ladies being in a hurry I didn'tscarcely have time. If I'd known it was important, or anyway if I'd hada minute or two to myself, I'd have taken a look at it. I'm very sorryindeed, sir."

  Gimblet dismissed him somewhat peremptorily. He felt that he was takingan unreasoning dislike for the apologising Thomas, so anxious toingratiate himself.