by Adam Carter
It was only at this point I began to wonder how large the diamond was. I had never seen a diamond but had been labouring under the impression this one was the size of a football. But a diamond the size of an earring was of incredible value, so the importance of a much larger jewel was only then beginning to sink in. But my fantasies were running away with me, so I resolved to ask someone the size of the thing just so I could sleep at night.
One thing I was slowly coming to realise, however; at some point in his life, Watts must have been a very well-off man. It truly was saddening to think how far he had fallen because of his gambling problem.
“I take it we’ve dusted for fingerprints?” I asked Holbrook and saw by her expression how successful that had been.
“Nothing,” she said. “They’re pulling fibres from the cloth in case the thief touched it when they took the diamond, but I don’t hold out much hope on that.”
I stared at the glass casing. “How did they even get in?”
“I have no idea. It would take a master jewel thief to remove a diamond without touching the case.”
For a moment, I thought Holbrook meant something by that comment, but I could see she was lost in thought as she examined the crime scene. So long as we weren’t both thinking the same thing, she could make all the comments she wanted.
“Detective Holbrook?” a voice asked. There was an elderly gentleman being allowed through the police cordon. It would have been better were the constables not doing that sort of thing, but the damage was already done. The man was tall, with short white hair and a slow, slightly stooped walk. He wore a dark blue uniform which was pristine and well cared for. I would have placed the man somewhere at the tail-end of his seventies, but that was likely just me being mean.
“Bob Harkett?” I asked, extending my hand. “Detective Matthew Blake.”
Holbrook shook his hand with a smile. “You were the one who found the Teardrop missing?” she asked due to politeness since we would not have called for him otherwise.
“Yes, miss. The strangest thing, it was. I almost didn’t notice.” He spoke slowly; perhaps because of his age, perhaps because he was wary while talking to the police.
“Almost didn’t notice it missing?” I asked. “That’s not something to admit to.”
“I’m generally looking for intruders, sir. A missing painting’s obvious, but I couldn’t imagine someone taking a diamond without breaking the glass. Still can’t.”
Just because I agreed with him, it did not mean I valued his opinion. “Talk us through what happened,” I said.
“Nothing really happened,” he said. “I was passing through this room on my rounds. I saw the case was empty and raised the alarm.”
“How do you do your rounds?”
“I walk through the museum.”
“On a set pattern?”
“Usually.”
“And how many times do you pass through each room?”
“Three.”
“So, since you almost didn’t notice it was missing, the diamond could have been stolen long before you realised it was missing? You could have walked through this room once or twice before realising?”
Harkett’s initial response was to deny this, although he stopped to think. “Possibly, but I can’t see I would have missed it completely.”
“Do you check every exhibit?”
“No. But I do a proper job.”
He sounded angry as he said this, although I hadn’t been especially suggesting otherwise.
“How long have you been working here, Bob?” Holbrook asked.
“Forty-five years next month.”
It was not an answer I had expected. It meant Harkett had been working at the museum longer than I had been alive. I could see why he would get touchy at someone insinuating he might have been remiss in his work. After so long, the job had likely enveloped his life. I could not imagine myself staying in the police quite so long, nor would I have wanted to.
However, there was something bitter in the way he had given his answer: something I could not quite understand. It was not that he despised those forty-five years, but something else.
“What can you tell us about the Teardrop?” I asked.
“I don’t know anything about diamonds, sir.”
“How big was it?”
“Oh, about the size of a golf ball.”
Suddenly my football idea sank quicker than the Titanic.
“Did you ever notice anyone hanging around it?” I asked.
“Everyone hangs around the exhibits, sir. It’s what people do in a museum.”
I admit it was a stupid question.
“There’s always Benny Shoreham,” he said offhandedly.
“Benny Shoreham?”
“He started working here two weeks ago. Young kid. Doesn’t fit in, though. Street punk, know what I mean?”
“Believe me, I know what street punks are. You say he hangs around this area?”
“Fascinated by the diamond. I’ve tried to talk to him a few times, but he doesn’t have time for an old fellow like me.” He paused. “Do you think he might have had something to do with stealing it?”
I could sense Harkett was annoyed at the possibility. To have someone working on the inside, right under his nose, was not something the old man had considered until that moment. It was helpful information and I filed it away as possibly useful.
“Do you know the owner of the diamond?” I asked.
“No, sir. Why would I know the owner?”
“I’m just trying to build a picture here, Mr Harkett. You say you’ve been working here for forty-five years. You must be coming up to retirement soon.”
His eyes flinched and I was glad I had played a hunch and asked because I could see I had hit on something. “There’s nothing wrong with me, sir,” he said.
“I never said there was. Me? I’m looking forward to retirement. Chance to put my feet up and lie in the sun for a while.”
“I don’t need to retire, sir.”
“I get the feeling there are people who disagree?”
“They say I’m too old to do the job, but I’m not. No one knows this place like I do. No one knows all the places a thief can get in or where he could hide.”
It was a story I had heard before and it was always a shame when it happened. But the old man had admitted he had almost missed the theft and I was still not convinced he hadn’t walked straight past an empty cabinet twice already. His position raised an interesting theory, however, for suddenly Bob Harkett had himself a motive.
I caught Holbrook watching me. By the mild frown she wore I understood she did not share my idea.
“How many thieves have you caught over the years?” I asked. “Must be a fair few, I’d wager.”
“Not as many as you’d think, sir. It’s not a glamorous job, but it’s a good one. Steady, predictable, controlled.”
I was fleshing out my opinion of Bob Harkett. He had spent so long in this role that it had indeed taken over his whole life, but it was more than that. He was one of those people that needed to lead an ordered life, who didn’t like surprises. I could imagine he might get annoyed if something ever happened which went against his perfectly ordered system. A thief would not necessarily fall into that category, since it was his job to prevent thievery, but the sheer chaos thrown up by a thief should certainly bring out some reaction in the man. That he did not seem all that bothered suggested, to my mind, the possibility that the theft had not been outside of what he had expected.
We had few further questions for Harkett and then allowed him to get back to his rounds. Holbrook and I remained at the crime scene. We spoke quietly, even though we were only in earshot of the constables, and then only if we called over to them. I could see a cloud forming over Holbrook’s face and knew what was coming before either of us even spoke a word.
“He wasn’t involved, Matt,” she said.
“How do you know that? Guy gives nearly half a century to a job and o
ut of the blue it tells him he’s no longer required? Maybe he helped the thief to show them why they need him as a guard.”
“He shows them his ineptitude, you mean. Losing the diamond under his care isn’t a good way of convincing his employers to keep him on.”
“Then maybe he’s just hidden it somewhere. Maybe he intends to whip it out and play the hero. It’d make all the papers; they’d have to keep him on then.”
Holbrook sighed. “Matthew, you always see the worst in people.”
“I see the truth in people. Everyone’s at least a little bad, Jane.”
“So what’s a little bad about you?”
“What’s not?”
Her entire body sagged. “You really do have a low opinion of everyone, don’t you?”
“Everyone lets you down in the end, Jane.”
“Even yourself?”
“Especially yourself.”
A commotion sounded from the edge of the cordon then and we both looked over to see one of the constables struggling to prevent someone from passing through. The newcomer was in his fifties and, if possible, looked even redder than when last I’d seen him. It was only then I realised the problems Ralph Watts might cause me. After all, I could hardly hide my association with him, and I didn’t want to be connected in any way with the crime since it would compromise the investigation. Also, our poker games were not entirely legal.
But I had made my bed, as it were, and couldn’t now complain about who I’d invited to lie with me.
We walked over to meet him, since we didn’t want him beyond the police line. The constable was visibly relieved to see us approach, but while Watts ceased trying to get through he did frown.
“Blake?”
Holbrook looked at me curiously. “You know each other?”
“We met last night,” Watts said. “Blake, where’s my diamond?”
“No idea,” I admitted. “But that’s why we’re here.”
“Bit of a coincidence,” Watts said. “My diamond goes missing just hours after you take all my money. Now it turns out you’re the one I have to trust to bring it back.”
“Actually, it’s not my case,” I said. “I’m just helping out.”
“Oh, that makes it so much more legit.”
I could see his point. “Watts,” I said, “I didn’t steal your diamond. What would I want with a diamond?”
“Money, obviously.”
“Money again,” Holbrook said. “Mr Watts, what do you mean when you say Detective Blake took your money?”
“Poker,” Watts said.
“Ah.”
Taking money from someone at poker is not, of course, illegal, but the fact Sally J takes a cut while acting as the house certainly is. Even if I claimed ignorance and said I assumed she ran everything by the taxman, it would not have looked good for me. I very much doubted Watts knew about Sally J taking a cut, however, so I did not feel all that threatened by him.
“We’ll find your diamond,” I told him. “We’ve only just got started and already have a few leads.”
“Which are?”
“Not something we can discuss with you at this stage.”
“Pardon me,” Holbrook said sweetly, “but I don’t think proper introductions have been made.”
“Ralph Watts,” I told her. “He owns the Teardrop and loans it to the museum. What’s your insurance like for something like this anyway?”
Watts was taken aback. “I hope you’re not suggesting I had anything to do with this.”
“Why is everyone so touchy today? No, I was just asking about insurance.”
“Not a lot,” Watts said, looking annoyed with himself. “I couldn’t afford to properly insure it, but there hasn’t been a successful theft from this museum in fifteen years so I figured I’d be safe with paying the lowest amount of cover.”
I did not even have to check that to know it was true, although of course I would. Watts had likely lost so much money to his addiction that he was having to cut corners wherever he could. I knew what I would find when I checked his records: he would have begun with the best cover and slowly would have whittled it down to the bare minimal required.
“We’ll be in touch once we know anything,” Holbrook said. “Do you have a contact number?”
“Of course I have a contact number.” He patted down his pockets and found a business card. He held it out to Holbrook, but I took it instead. I was curious why Watts would have business cards. It was old and dog-eared and was clearly a throwback to a time when he had been a success. Everything on the card confirmed what Watts had told me the previous night: that he had at one time been in the business of buying and selling expensive jewels.
“Mr Watts,” I said, “do you have any enemies?”
“Enemies? What kind of question is that?”
“I just find it odd the diamond was stolen now, when your cover on it’s so low. And why nothing else in the museum was taken. It’s as though someone’s targeting you.”
I could tell from his face this was something he had not considered. “Why would someone target me?” he asked.
“That’s why I asked about enemies. Maybe you owe money to someone?”
“I owe money to a lot of people, but none of them would break into a museum to steal my diamond. They’d take it through the courts and seize it legally.”
That made sense, but it all depended on who he owed money to. The banks, obviously, would not send in their clerks, but if Watts had been borrowing from underworld figures they might not have been the type of people who favoured treading the legal path. It was something else to look into.
“Just find my diamond, Blake,” Watts said. “Do your job and find my diamond.”
He walked off in a huff, which was fine since I had no further questions for him anyway.
“Maybe it’s not a good idea for you to help me on this after all,” Holbrook said. “If you’re connected to Watts, it’s …”
“I’m not connected to Watts. Besides, when we find his diamond for him he’s going to be the happiest man alive. I suggest we split up. You talk to this Benny Shoreham while I look more into Watts.”
“Watts?”
“I’m interested in these people he owes money to. There might be something there we can use.”
“If I’m talking to a suspect I need someone there with me.”
The law was a frustrating thing sometimes. The word of an officer was not considered truthful unless there was a witness. Ludicrous as it was, Holbrook was right.
“Then just find him and bring him in,” I said. “If we talk with him down at the station we might get him to crack.”
“We don’t have anything to arrest him on.”
“Then don’t arrest him. He’s young and stupid. Make him think he’s just helping us with our enquiries. He’ll probably see it as a big adventure, until we pounce on him.”
Holbrook did not agree with my methods, but I could see she was not going to argue. I had to remind myself this was her case and I was just helping, but it had become personal to me. Unless I could find the Teardrop, Watts would blow a fuse and this could all explode in my face. Holbrook was right when she said I should have taken a step back from the investigation, but the truth was I never should have involved myself in the first place. If internal affairs looked into any complaint Watts raised, they would discover I had volunteered my services only after I had learned the nature of the case. They would suspect me of all sorts of things and, even though I was innocent, all manner of nastiness could come out of it. I’d seen internal affairs tear someone apart before. He had been innocent too, but even after they had cleared him his career was in tatters. No one, not even his peers, ever trusted him again and eventually he transferred. I looked into him six months later and found he had resigned after being hospitalised for stress-related issues.
I was not going to become that person.
Leaving Holbrook to find Benny Shoreham, I headed back to the office. I had some resear
ch to be getting on with; research which, if done properly, could well save my entire career.
CHAPTER FOUR
It did not take much effort to pull up information on Watts. It turned out he was known to the police, which was interesting. He had an ex-wife named Elizabeth Payne and, while the details in the police report were sketchy, it seemed he had laid into her a couple of times when he was drunk. Perhaps Watts had more addictions than just gambling: perhaps he just wasn’t a nice person. Either way, I sat at my desk wondering whether it might be an idea to talk to this woman. The arrest had been less than two years earlier and it seemed the charges had been dropped. Why the ex would have dropped charges was anyone’s guess, but since it had only happened recently I figured she might still be able to give me an insight into the man. Finding a reason to talk with her was the problem, since Watts was the victim and not officially a suspect.
It was something I would have to put off for a while. We still had Benny Shoreham to interview, and then there was old Bob Harkett who might have nabbed the diamond in revenge for being forced into retirement. As much as I was interested in the man, Ralph Watts was going to have to wait.
With regards to his debts, I had less luck. I called around all the favours I could and threw his name out to all the usual moneylenders. No one had heard of him, which meant he had likely borrowed money from less than reputable sources. I knew I could talk to my informants and get them to ask around, try to figure out an answer for me, but I doubted they would have much luck. The only way I was going to get an actual name would be through Watts. If things got really bad and the investigation was going nowhere, that was when I was going to have to confront the man and get him to tell me. If he wanted his diamond back, he was going to have to cooperate fully.