Wiles of a Stranger

by Joan Smith

  One would think a milliner would assume I wanted a bonnet, but this did not seem to occur to her. The servant handed her the note, which she grabbed anxiously, then she slammed the door in my face. The trip was accomplished so quickly that I took Lucien to the meadow after we returned, in case the major should be so patient as to wait until three o'clock.

  From across the meadow I saw him, sitting on a rock with his chin in his hands, like Patience on a monument. “You had better have a very good excuse!” was his opening salvo.

  "We have been to the village."

  "Not good enough,” he said, arising to look belligerently down his nose at us.

  I explained how it had come about, as Lucien rode his pony in large circles around us, looking to see that we admired his seat.

  "Does she know I am coming to look at the diamond this afternoon?” he asked.

  "I imagine so. Beaudel told Lucien, so it is no secret."

  "Let us assume she does, and be prepared for the worst."

  "She won't just steal the diamond at gunpoint. She could have had it any time, if it is in the safe as we think. You should have checked, to be certain."

  "Is it possible she's stupid enough to think I'll pay cash? They've hired a place; she has clothes packed—isn't that what you said? She and Wiggins plan to grab the money and run."

  "Not many clothes. Just a few linens and a toothbrush."

  "She could hardly load a carriage down with trunks. If she knows I'm coming at four, she may plan to steal the money tonight, before he gets it into a bank. She'd count on his infatuation with her to delay his calling in the authorities, I expect."

  "You'll be paying by cheque?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you have enough money—fifty thousand pounds, is it?"

  "The sum is not settled until I examine the gem. As to the money, yes, I can afford it. That sets you to wondering, I see."

  "They won't trust a stranger's cheque for such a sum."

  "I am not a stranger, but a good friend of Sacheverel. Furthermore, I took the precaution of getting a cheque certified for fifty thousand. If any little extra is required to close the deal, that could be uncertified."

  "It's hard to believe they count on your paying cash. And where does Mrs. Cantor come into it?"

  "Mrs. Beaudel was a milliner herself, before coming here. It might be an old colleague. I shall discover whether the woman is a new addition to the village. Or you could do that, from the girls at the Park."

  "I wonder if they worked together before, on that kidnapping of Kersey's son."

  "Very likely. There was some older couple in on it. It was they who had arranged to hire a place.” He stopped at that telling phrase, to tug at his beard. “Kidnapping!” he exclaimed.

  "Precisely my own thought!"

  "Criminals will stick with the same sort of crime, same method of executing it, and so on."

  "That's true. I've often heard my father say so, when discussing jewel robberies. They're going to kidnap Lucien. Oh, my God, Major, we have to let Beaudel know."

  "Just a minute,” he said, holding up his hands. “They're not going to do anything till Beaudel has my money. Yes, this is more sensible. Beaudel banks the money, and then has to get cash to pay them off to get Lucien back. Did Lucien see Mrs. Cantor?"

  "Yes, he came with me to her shop."

  "And Stella knew he was going with you, so she didn't care if he saw the woman. That's odd. I mean, you'd think she would use someone unknown to him. Unless they plan to kill the boy

  "Surely not!"

  "They're really getting in deep if that's the plan. But how can they let him go home, if he can identify her? I'm assuming, of course, that neither Stella nor Wiggins take an active part in the kidnapping, but only engineer it."

  "There must be more people involved."

  "There are already four. They wouldn't want to split it up any more than necessary. The neater plan would be for Stella and Wiggins to sit tight at the Park till the money was handed over, then after a few months, she could have a riproaring fight with Beaudel and leave without attaching any suspicion she was involved in the kidnapping. And she wouldn't have any reason to have her linens and toothbrush packed up for that course, would she?"

  "No. Bad as she is, I'm sure she wouldn't plan to murder Lucien. She rather likes him. She's greedy, but she's not vicious,” I said, always harking back in my mind to this dreadful possibility. “Maybe they're not planning to kidnap him at all. We have no reason to suppose it's to be a kidnapping."

  "They kidnapped before. That's their racket. Maybe they don't plan to kidnap Lucien. Maybe it's old Beaudel.... No, he has to be home to arrange the funds. Who else is there? Who would Beaudel fork over fifty thousand for? There's only his nephew and—his wife.” he finished, with a curious little smile.

  "What—Stella kidnaps herself?” I asked, with an incredulous laugh.

  "Why not?” he asked reasonably. “She wouldn't meet much resistance, would she? You may be sure after she was let free, she would not put the finger on the Cantors. It would be some Frenchmen or Irishmen who did it. The remainder of the plan still holds. She goes home for a reasonable time, then has her falling out with Charles and goes to join the conspirators. The four of them are off and running—anywhere they choose. It would be logical for Wiggins to leave at the same time She hired him. He might even be the reason for the fight with Charles, to give him an unexceptionable excuse to resign his position. I think that covers all bases. A pretty clever scheme."

  I went over it mentally for loopholes, and found none. In fact, I liked the scheme, as it left out all danger of a physical sort to Lucien. Only his fortune was at jeopardy. “So what should we do?” was my next question.

  "An ounce of prevention. You'll see."

  "Please tell me. I'm dying to know."

  "There isn't time. I have the details to work out. I have to nip into the village and have a word with the expert who is going to authenticate the Jaipur for me. Mills is his name."

  "Albert Mills? I know him, and he knows me. I must stay out of sight."

  "I'll tip him the clue he's never seen you before."

  "When did you arrange for him to come?” I asked, trailing after him as he hastened toward his mount, tethered near the stream.

  "My man followed Beaudel to London. He toured the jewel merchants, inquiring about possible markets and price for the Jaipur, indicating it was for sale. My man had instructions to ask Mills to come, if that was Beaudel's errand. Love and Wirgmans indicated to him that fifty thousand was a fair price, so that will be my offer. I think he'd take it. A bird in the hand. He'll want the money before Algernon comes home, asking questions. He'll tell him he took forty-five, which is not a bad price, not low enough to cause instant suspicion."

  "I don't suppose your man had time to enquire after Mr. Kirby, in London?” I remembered to ask.

  "As a matter of fact, he did,” he answered, which surprised me. “I have a note of his address here. He lives nearby, in a cottage about five miles from the town. Here, I'll jot down the direction."

  He scribbled them out very quickly and handed them to me.

  "Oh, thank you. I'll write him this very day. Because you know, if we aren't going to prove Stella stole those diamonds, it doesn't do Papa any good at all. He is still languishing in that prison."

  "Yes, but I sent him a bottle of the very best brandy, and all the latest papers. Later I shall take Mills around to see him. That will prove a pleasant diversion, to have an old colleague to talk to."

  "It will break his heart that he isn't to get to see the Jaipur."

  "I may be able to arrange that too,” he said, and laughed, a reckless, excited laugh.

  I mistrusted the mood he was in. Amidst all the confusion of stealing and kidnapping and hiring a place by the Cantors, we had lost track of freeing Papa. It was clearly not a top priority of the major's, but how had I allowed myself to be led so far astray?

  "What is the matter, Anna?
” he asked suddenly. Glancing up from my fit of distraction, I saw he regarded me with troubled, gentle eyes, and felt guilty at my ill thoughts of him.

  "I'm worried about my father, of course."

  "Don't. He'll be free very soon. That's a promise."

  I felt an instinctive urge to trust him, when he looked at me in that way. “Should you prevent the kidnapping? Wouldn't it be better to let them go ahead with it, catch them in the act, I mean? How else can we prove anything?"

  "Trust me."

  "Couldn't I help in some way? I'll be there, in the house. I can spy, see if she leaves. There ought to be someone set to watch the Cantors too, and—oh, any number of things,” I said, as he impatiently mounted his gelding, wanting to leave. “We need a whole army."

  "You don't need anyone but me. I will handle it,” he insisted. “There is no counting on any of them to behave as ladies and gentlemen, my dear. They might take it very much amiss if they found you lurking at keyholes, or in the back of carriages. God only knows what shocking things your beautiful eyes would be exposed to. We don't want you quite disenchanted with relations between the sexes. You're timid enough already. Or was it the beard?” he asked, bending down and taking my hands in his.

  I looked around the meadow for Lucien. He was dismounting to try for tadpoles in the stream. “I have to go immediately,” Morrison said. “See you at eleven at our trysting place, as usual? The highlight of my day."

  "All right."

  "If for any reason I can't make it, don't worry. I'll be in touch somehow.” He released my hands to take up the reins, then kissed his finger and leaned down to place it on my lips. “Till I get around to removing the whiskers, we must use a go-between. Very unsatisfactory,” he added, with a long look at my lips. I felt the same way.

  I called Lucien. Morrison waved to us both and galloped off towards the village.

  "I expect he is going to get the money to buy my diamond,” Lucien said, looking after him. “I will give you a present when I get it, Miss Stacey."

  "You will do nothing of the sort, sir. It is not the thing to be buying presents for ladies you hardly know."

  "I know you well. I like you too. I will give you a new book to read me."

  "Ah well, if that is the sort of valuable gift you have in mind, I accept."

  "You can keep it after we are done with it,” he offered handsomely.

  "Lovely."

  "And if it is good, I can borrow it back when I want to look at the pictures again,” he added, rather regretting his generosity already. He remounted his pony, and we went home.

  Wiggins was in the kitchen when we entered by the back door. I could hardly hide my feelings for the miserable wretch, and to make it worse, he chose that day to flirt with me, while Tess looked on, with laughter in her eyes.

  "Your playing hard to get is paying off,” she told me, after he returned abovestairs. “Why you'll be making the madam jealous, the way he's throwing his hanky at you. What did he mean about spending your shilling?” she asked.

  "Madam gave me a shilling for delivering a note for her,” I replied, noticing that Wiggins was very well aware of my trip.

  "She's generous! She never gives me that much. Where did you have to go?"

  "To the milliner. Has Mrs. Cantor been here for long?"

  "Who's Mrs. Cantor?” she asked. “I never heard of her."

  "The milliner in the village—the one at the edge of town."

  "Everybody goes to Mrs. Blossom. She makes the best bonnets hereabouts. Madam gets all hers there. Has she found someone new to patronize?"

  "It looks that way,” I replied, but I knew the patronizing had nothing to do with bonnets.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I am not superstitious, but it is curious all the same that Chapter Thirteen should contain such a piece of bad luck. After we returned from our walk, Mr. Beaudel asked us to step into his office.

  "Has the lad been telling you we have a possible purchaser coming to look at the Jaipur diamond?” he asked me. He had changed into a new jacket and clean shirt for the grand occasion.

  "He mentioned it to me,” I replied.

  "Major Morrison is the chap who wants it. The fellow who bought the Italian necklace, you know. I don't know what is best to be done, but it would be a wonderful relief, not to have the worry of such a valuable thing in the house, just waiting to be stolen, and the bank vaults not a whole lot safer either. I wonder that a fellow like Morrison, with so much of the ready in his pocket, ever bothered his head with soldiering, but I could not like to quiz him about it. Sacheverel's word must be good enough for me that he has the money, and came by it honestly. We'll let him worry about keeping the gem safe, if he gives us a firm offer, that is to say."

  I wondered if he had been so concerned for its safety before his marriage. Next Beaudel turned his attention to his nephew.

  "You will want to be there for the transaction. It is your property, Lucien; you must be there. And if you don't want to sell, just say so. I am only your guardian. You will want to put a clean suit on him, Miss Stacey. A fellow doesn't do such big business as this every day of his life. You bring him down. You might be curious to see the fabulous jewel yourself, before it leaves the house."

  "I would love to see it,” I admitted, a trifle too eagerly, but he did not notice my enthusiasm. He was smiling at Lucien. He seemed such a nice, kindly old man, I was sorry to have to expose him.

  "I will come down to say good-bye to it,” Lucien declared, then took my hand to pull me upstairs for the toilette.

  "Why didn't Major Morrison come home with us?” he asked, a logical question, requiring a logical answer.

  "He had to go into town to pick up the expert who is going to look at the gem with him. Mills is his name."

  "The first man who came to be an expert stole some diamonds. Aunt Stella told me so."

  "Did she? When was that, Lucien?"

  "Just before you came here."

  "When did she tell you, I mean? When were you speaking to her alone?"

  "Last night after supper. She came upstairs to put on a new gown, and I asked her why, when Uncle Charles was away. She was putting it on to please Wiggins, but she didn't say so. She said it was for me, and let me choose it."

  "What one did you choose?” I asked, concealing my smile at his knowing mind.

  "I chose the blue. Wiggins likes it best. I heard him tell her once she looked like a cloud in it, floating across the lawn."

  "He is very romantic."

  "Why don't you like him then?"

  "He's all right, just not my type."

  "That's what I thought. I told Major Morrison you didn't like Wiggins, when he asked me if you ever had private talks with him, like Aunt Stella does. He meant making love."

  "He asked you that?” I demanded.

  "A long time ago, the day you made us take you to the village. I think he didn't like you so much then, but he does now. He didn't ask me about your beau today. I'm glad, because I still have failed in my mission,” he reminded me, hinting for an answer.

  "You can tell Major Morrison I do have a beau, back home in Norfolk. A very steady beau, whom I shall be marrying as soon as I get back."

  "You are not leaving so soon!” he exclaimed, causing me to realize I had blundered, in my vexation with the talkative, nosy major.

  "Of course not. When I leave, is all I meant,” I explained, but it was a cruel trick to play an innocent child. He just became fond of one governess after another, and she left. This reminded me of Miss Little, whose vanishing was still unexplained.

  "Can I wear my Sunday jacket with the velvet lapels?” he asked, going to the clothespress.

  "Why not?” I humored him in this conceit. He looked every inch the little gentleman when his hair was brushed into place. Uncertain what degree of elegance was expected of me, I did no more than brush my hair and put on a gold chain with a small pearl suspended from it. All attention would be on the rose diamond.

&nb
sp; We waited until five past four, to see if we were sent for, but as we were not, I took Lucien down to his uncle's office. Major Morrison was just being shown in, with Mr. Mills, a cadaverous, pale man of sixty-odd years in his wake. Not so much as a blink betrayed our former acquaintance, when Beaudel made his introductions. Morrison too treated me like a mere acquaintance, making me aware what a good actor he was.

  As Mr. Beaudel drew a leather pouch out of his desk, I risked casting one frightened eye on Morrison. He raised his brows silently and smiled, enjoying the charade. Soon everything else was forgotten. The rose Jaipur sat in the palm of Beaudel's hand, a magnificent rose diamond pear, as large as a small chestnut. At four o'clock, the light was not as bright as it could be, but the gem caught the weak sunlight and shot it back in a million prisms. Its clarity was so great, and its cut so exact, it was the most exquisite jewel I had ever seen. Low gasps were emitted on all sides. I felt a stab of regret that my father could not be present. Even a jewel merchant had few opportunities to view such a spectacular stone as this.

  Beaudel took it up between his thumb and forefinger.

  "They tell me the thing is twenty-five carats. It strikes me it is too large to be worn in any other way than hanging as a pendant. I expect that is how you will have it set, Major, if you buy?” As he spoke, he offered it to the major. He took it to the window, turning it this way and that.

  "Yes, that was my plan,” he said, frowning and looking at it.

  "Is there something the matter?” Beaudel asked.

  It was at that moment that I noticed Mrs. Beaudel was not present, which was odd, as she had been on the other occasions.

  "You take a look at it, Mills,” Morrison said, handing it to him.

  Mr. Mills took it, hefted it in his palm, then held it to the window. “Can't be sure. She feels right,” he said, pulling his loupe from his pocket, to be stuck into his eye. There with the sunlight falling on the diamond, he examined it carefully for perhaps a minute, which seemed endless. “The best-cut piece of glass I have ever seen. Definitely paste though,” he said, handing it back to Beaudel.