“Good to see you Sergeant Welsh. What have you been up to now? Nothing too serious I hope. Whatever it is you don’t want to swing for it old boy, eh!” he said with a hearty laugh, clapping Jack on the shoulder.
Jack found himself being easily transported back into his army days. But even though he knew that they were now both civilians it was hard to shake off the years of conditioning. The Major was certainly full of easy going charm, but he knew that beneath the surface he was dealing with someone who given half a chance would try to ‘pull rank’, especially if he was not getting what he wanted.
“Good to see you to Major. I’ve managed to do all right since I got out and ‘av set up a bit of a business sellin’ and buyin’ antique jewels for some people who want to keep a low profile for tax reasons.” Jack thought that might be enough without giving away too much information.
“Well, well, Jack. Sounds like you have done all right for yourself. What can I do to help out? Or is this just a friendly chat amongst old acquaintances?”
Jack could feel himself getting angry although he didn’t know why.
“I need some advice Major, as I ‘eard you knew some people in ‘atton Market an might be able to make a few contacts for me?
“I might be able to help you,” Caruthers said. “But I reckon that depends on what’s in it for me.” Caruthers had a way of smiling and putting a man on the spot at the same time. Nothing much had changed there, Jack thought.
“Course you’ll get a percentage,” Jack said. “Just like in any business arrangement. But mind, I don’t make much on my deals so it won’t be no lottery win for either of us. So don’t get any fancy ideas about stitchin’ me up,” he blurted out.
The Major just took Jack’s reaction in his stride.
“Look Jack, let’s stay calm on this one. I know that business we did in Bosnia a few years back didn’t work out the way we hoped it would, but if it hadn’t been for a slight, shall we say miscalculation on my part, we would have both been on easy street. But that’s water under the bridge now. And I paid the price for that one and kept you in the clear.”
“You did Major, and I owe you for that to be sure.”
“But you wouldn’t have asked me to meet you if you didn’t think we could work together. So let’s put all that behind us and go forward. Okay Jack? So no hard feelings?”
“Sorry I spoke out like that, but I’ve been a bit pushed lately and want to get a deal going with some stuff. Antique jewels that is, and it’s all a bit, well getting me down I suppose,” said Welsh.
“Look Jack I know exactly how you feel. I’ve been there enough times I can tell you. Why don’t we talk about it you over a pint and a bit of tucker and see how I can help you out. My shout.”
Jack could see that the Major was still the same old smoothie he always was. But he needed someone to move those jewels on, and he knew that Caruthers was the only person he knew who could do the job without raising suspicion.
“You just sit tight while I get our order in. Then we can swap war stories, just like in the old days. Then you can tell me about this deal you have going and what I can do to help you out.”
As always the officer class seemed to be able to stay calm in a tough situation and somehow maintain the initiative over the junior ranks. The hot food and the drinks would help him to relax and he reflected that he was probably overreacting to the undertone of their conversation. For the time being he was more interested in finding a way to sell the jewels and diamonds that were sitting under the table between his feet. The Major was soon back with the drinks.
“Look old chap I’ve managed to chat the barkeep up and he said that we can use his back room for a bit of privacy. I slipped him twenty quid for his troubles. So let’s go back to our little office and see if we can make some money out of whatever you have in that bag that bag you’ve been guarding so tight.”
When they had retired to the small dingy back room, Jack spread the contents of the travel bag out on the table. The two men were amazed at what they saw. What they had in front of them was a collection of diamonds, emeralds and gem covered ornaments enough to fill the travel bag. There was also a pile of loose diamonds of varying sizes. Two of the larger ornaments looked like something that might be worn round the neck or on the head, ten or so bracelets and at least 20 necklaces. The Major was quick to recover from the sight of all that wealth sitting on the rickety old table in a back street London pub.
“Well Jack old boy, you seem to have got it right this time,” he said leaning back in his chair almost salivating at what he could see.
“Okay major now you can see why I’m so edgy about shiftin’ this lot. I want to know if you can find someone to tell me ‘ow much this is all worth and better still find someone who would give me a fair price an’ not too many questions asked. The people who this stuff belongs to want it all kept very quiet or else they’ll pull out. Obviously I would consider giving you somefing for fixing fings up. I’d make it werf your while. What do you think? Can you sell ‘em for me?”
“Steady on Jack one step at a time old boy. You’ve certainly hit the big time here. I can shift the diamonds no problem. They can be cut down and reshaped to make something that is fashionable. A nice bit of bling for the smart set. Should be able to get about 150,000 pounds for that lot. Not as much as you’d like I’m sure, but without a written guarantee that they were sourced from a legitimate supplier I will have to go through the back door with them, and people’s palms will have to be greased. Do you have any paperwork on this stuff?”
“I told you. My clients don’t want to leave no paper trail,” Welsh said with more irritation than he wanted in his voice.
“Okay, okay. Just asking,” Caruthers said. “But no worries. We can still do okay.”
“Can’t you just get the big diamonds cut down smaller so no one could see a problem? Maybe even get ‘em put in a ring or somefink in a local jewelers shop? “ said Jack, trying to offer a simpler solution.
“No Jack, that wouldn’t do at all. Reduce the value too much. You see they can’t get diamonds that large nowadays. You get more for one 3 carat diamond than you do for three one carat diamonds”
Jack was not going to be put off so easily and started to sense that the Major might be trying to trick him in some way or other.
“Look Major, I’ve ‘eard you can sell diamonds in Antwerp, over in Belgium, as well as ‘atton Garden in London. So why not get two people trying to bid against each uver?’
“My dear Jack, the chances of getting those diamonds sold in Antwerp is zero. The diamond house in Antwerp deals with nearly seventy percent of the world diamonds now that they have taken the lead over Amsterdam. They have a top security area covering two square miles and there are over a thousand companies that trade.’
‘Then let’s go for ‘atton Garden as at least that’s just down the road from ‘ere and we won’t ‘ave to bother smugglin’ ‘em through customs an’ all that,” Jack said.
“At Hatton Garden, it is slightly easier in that we are dealing with some top five companies. I know a chap who owes me a few favours and like me is a bit of a gambler, so I can see a way of selling the things on through him. He’s been kicked out from one of the big valuation houses and is always ready for a bit of revenge on the buggers for screwing him. Amazing how getting revenge can drive people to extremes, eh Jack? This chap of mine is kosher. No questions asked. No names no pack drill as we used to say in the army.”
The Major had reverted to his old role of briefing the troops and was enjoying taking charge of what he saw as a tricky situation. He continued the briefing.
“You see what has put a loophole in the diamond trading system is that the top boys brought in what they call The Kimberly Process back in 2002. They did this to make sure that what they call blood diamonds, one’s sold by revolutionary groups in Africa to finance their shenanigans, are not mixed up with the legitimate ones being mined and traded by the so called good guys. It sort
of works, but you and I know, Jack, that where there is a gap in the wire, then fellows like us are going to be able to wriggle through. But the jewelry is more of a problem.”
He went on to explain to Welsh that in the late 14th Century special stones were given names, for example Jean Duc de Barry owned the Great Balas of Venice bought from Valentina Visconti and that someone’s status depended on how many rich and ornate pieces of jewelry they owned. And that he thought it was possible that they were looking at something akin to some of those ancient and almost priceless stones. He put his plan to Welsh.
“Look Jack, our best bet is to keep the rare and ornamental pieces and not simply get some back street jeweler to break them up. So we have to find a specialist collector who will give us a good price to have them in his collection. Meanwhile, why don’t I shift these diamonds and have some of these loose pearls, sapphires and emeralds graded for carat, size, colour, clarity and cut. The diamonds should bring about a hundred and fifty, and about the same for the pearls and other loose stones, depending on the quality.”
“There’s no way I’m goin’ to just let you walk out of ‘ere wiv this lot, Caruthers. And don’t tell me that you’ll give me a receipt ‘cause we both know that won’t be wurf the paper it’s writ on. And ‘ow will I know what grades you get and the price someone is willin’ to pay for ‘em anyhow?”
“I can see what you’re saying Jack, but just hear me out. It can take time to find international buyers for some of these almost priceless jeweled ornaments. We could be looking to get at least three to five million pounds if I can get the right buyer.
Jack did a quick calculation. The easy to sell stuff would bring at least a quarter of a million. If he cut the Major in for 10 percent then he would still have enough to get away abroad somewhere until the rest was sold and the police had given up their hunt. Then he could be worth as much as four or five million. It was worth the chance.
“What do you think old boy? Where do you want to go from here? But don’t take too much time thinking about it because I can’t wait around all day for you to make up your mind.’”
“Okay Major it’s a deal,” he said. “You sell the easy stuff and I’ll cut you in for five percent.”
“Make it ten old boy and we have a deal.”
He could see the Major smiling and knew that this was his best chance to gain a quick return on his efforts. Jack realized that handing over the loose diamonds was a risk that he would have to take, but he was not going to lose sight of the rest until he had the money from the diamonds in his pocket.
“Look Major why don’t we get some photos taken of these big pieces and then you can show ‘em to your collectors. I’ll want to know who is doin’ the gradin’ and sortin’ so I can check them out. But I’m not goin’ to let them out of my sight until you’ve got someone lined up.”
The Major had come prepared. He had brought with him an expensive camera that was well suited to the, job at hand.
“Okay old chap I can see your point,” he chuckled. “You blokes never get ahead because you don’t know when to trust a friend. Always looking over your shoulder. Not a good way if you want to move in the right circles. If you had been to Eton you would know that the one thing you never do is to let your chums down. It just isn’t the way to play cricket. But fair point Jack, and you’re forgiven for being so blunt about how you feel, because it’s chaps like you that do the dirty work and get put in the front line. What my old Colonel used to call cannon fodder. The stuff that the British Army is made of, what!”
“Bugger goin’ to Eton and playin’ cricket. I’m here to get this lot sold orf so that I can retire and enjoy the rest of my life the way I want to. And as far as chums are concerned, they’re either standin’ by me when the guns are going off or doing deals back behind the lines for money like you were, Major.” Jack shouted.
The Major decided that he had said enough for the time being, and at least he had a bag of diamonds in his pocket. Not bad for the price of a pub lunch, he thought.
Clutching the travel bag containing over 4 million pounds of jeweled ornaments, Jack made his way out into the darkening streets of Soho. It was time for him to figure out the next step.
While they had been hatching their plans the police had made a breakthrough in their investigations
Following his Inspector’s orders, Sergeant Wilson had checked up on Katie Eggleton’s story about her husband being involved with the British Intelligence service at M.I.6. He passed the news on to his boss.
“Sir, it looks as though Katie Eggleton was telling the truth. Well her version of it. It seems that her husband was kidnapped a couple of years ago by a group linked to Al Qaeda working out of Somalia. He was working on a joint project for the French and British and the insurgents kidnapped him and have been asking for a two million dollar ransom for his release. The official line is for no ransom deals. So you can see why Mrs.Eggleton has been so stressed out.”
Linham stared out of his office window into the gathering clouds. He had been surprised at this new twist in the investigation, but he still had some concerns.
“So that clears up some of the mystery about the missing husband. But it still doesn’t give us any way of knowing where she was when Stocker was shot. So hers and Cavendish’s movements are still unaccounted for. And we still don’t know where our galloping caretaker has got to. The report from the hospital is that Stocker has not regained consciousness and they can’t tell us when, or even if he will. If he dies then we will have the Chief Constable screaming for us to make an arrest or the press will have a field day. And I don’t relish being on the receiving end of all that,” he exclaimed.
Jack Welsh had stayed the night at a small hotel in a rundown area just off Kings Cross Station. He went to a phone booth just down the street from the hotel as a precaution. If the police were on to him they would be able to trace any calls he made from his mobile phone, or so he had been told, and he was taking no chances. As always the booth was covered in phone numbers advertising the wares of the local street girls, but that was the last thing on his mind right then. He was now starting to get a sense that he had a grasp on his future. He had the jewels and a chance of some money coming back from a quick sale. All he had to do now was keep calm and be patient for a few months, and then he would be on easy street. But he couldn’t help feeling that something might still go wrong.
He called one of the caretakers at the college who sometimes covered for him when he wanted the day off to recover from a heavy night’s drinking. He wanted to find out who was down on the list to go round and lock up that night and which one of the lecturers was on duty.
The caretaker told him that Professor Chalmers was the lecturer on duty that night. That suited Jack just fine. He saw Ralph Chalmers as someone who would pose no threat to his plans. He had decided to go back to his office, and once the place was locked up he could hide the jewels in the old clock tower over the stables in the Law School building. With Chalmers safely tucked up working in his office it should be a piece of cake to get in, hide the jewels and be away before anyone had seen him.
Once he had hidden the jewels he planned to withdraw his savings from the bank and buy a train ticket to Edinburgh. He had an old army pal who had set himself up in the trout fishing business on one of the lochs near Inverness. It was a quiet and remote spot and he could hide away until he heard from the Major, and then slip back to Gypsy Hill and collect the jewels. He figured that no one would expect him to hide the jewels so close to home, and the last thing they would expect was for him to be anywhere near the place.
The day seemed to drag on for Jack. The drizzle made the London streets even less appealing than normal. He drank tea and ate stodgy food in cafes that seemed to have water streaming down both the insides and outsides of their windows. At last it was dark and Jack caught the train from Waterloo to Kingston. On the 20 minute journey he noticed how beaten down his fellow passengers seemed to be as they wound their way home fr
om a day in the busy city. No streets paved with gold for you boys, he thought. If only they knew what he had in his travel bag it would certainly wake them up. All they seemed to do was talk on their cell phones. Probably making excuses for being home late again.
As the warmth of the carriage helped him relax, his mind started to wander. In some ways he wished that he had a normal life and could be going home to a small house with a wife and kids waiting to serve his dinner. But he reminded himself that that was not his lot. He switched his mind to the more satisfying prospect of the life that was just waiting for him once the jewels had been sold.
From Kingston he took a bus up Kingston Hill and got off just outside what appeared to be a deserted college. Looking around, he could see that the main door to Kenry House was the only door not yet locked. The clock over the old stables had just struck nine, so he knew that he had a good 30 minutes before anyone would be coming to do the final lock up. He could see that the light was still on in Chalmers office. In a way he wished that this whole affair had never begun and he could just go back to being Jack the head Caretaker. But his army training reminded him that he had to clear his thoughts and concentrate on his mission.
He quickly made his way to his office. When he unlocked the door he noticed that someone had been going through his cupboards and had left the place in a mess. He was careful to turn on only a small lamp but as he moved towards his desk he heard a floor board creak. Spinning round quickly he saw Katie Eggleton standing in the doorway pointing his own Webley Revolver at his head.
***
Ralph Chalmers had found his day rather eventful. Inspector Linham had been asking him a lot of questions about Jim Stocker and about Katie and Peter. From what he could make out, Linham was trying to link his friends to the shooting. He was also worried about Jack Welsh, as by all accounts he might have also been involved in the shooting. It seemed likely to him that if anyone could shoot someone, then it was more likely to be a professional soldier. He couldn’t imagine Peter having the nerve, no matter how provoked he might be about that affair between Marcia and Jim Stocker. He had also had a session with Granger, and at least it seemed that the Gypsy Hill Centenary celebrations were finally taking shape to Granger’s satisfaction.
The Gypsy Hill Murders (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 1) Page 15