The Highland Falcon Thief

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The Highland Falcon Thief Page 16

by M. G. Leonard


  ‘You all right down there?’ Amy whispered, once they were a safe distance from the service car.

  ‘You are a legend, Amy,’ Lenny hissed back. ‘And, Hal, you’re a genius for using Box Tunnel like that.’

  ‘Uncle Nat says it’s one of the longest tunnels in the country,’ whispered Hal. ‘I figured it would give us enough time.’

  Amy stopped the trolley momentarily as she passed through the kitchen.

  ‘Are you ready, Gordon?’ she asked.

  ‘Now?’ he replied.

  ‘Yes, now,’ said Amy, pushing the trolley again.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Lenny mouthed.

  Hal put a finger to his lips and smiled.

  An announcement came over the train’s tannoy system as Amy pushed the trolley through the royal carriages, past Hadrian, and into the sleeping car.

  ‘Would all passengers please gather in the dining car immediately,’ Gordon’s voice said. ‘I repeat: would all passengers please gather in the dining car immediately.’

  Hal heard a door open.

  ‘What does that detective want with us now?’ Sierra complained.

  ‘Perhaps she’s found the necklace,’ Lucy suggested.

  ‘Good. I can’t wait to get off this train.’

  ‘Get out of the way, woman!’ Steven Pickle shouted.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t move, sir,’ Amy replied. ‘There are people ahead of me.’

  The children grinned at each other as the passengers of the Highland Falcon grumbled, unaware they were hidden beneath the silver trolley. Amy pushed the trolley into the dining car, moving to the far end, and parked it by the private dining room.

  ‘What is the meaning of this, Inspector Clyde?’ Steven Pickle demanded.

  ‘I was about to ask the same thing,’ the Inspector declared. ‘I didn’t call this meeting.’

  ‘What?’ Gasps filled the room. ‘Then who did?’

  Hal slipped out from under the trolley’s tablecloth and stepped forward. ‘I did,’ he said.

  Steven Pickle huffed, getting up to leave, but Uncle Nat pushed him back into his seat.

  ‘I think you should stay and hear what Hal has to say.’

  ‘I know who the thief is,’ Hal said. ‘I know who stole the brooch, the earrings, the bracelet, and the princess’s diamond necklace.’

  ‘We all do,’ Milo Essenbach said. ‘It was the train driver and his daughter.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t.’ Hal shook his head. ‘The real thief is right here in this room.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  THE END OF THE LINE

  ‘Well, this is a turn up for the books.’ Inspector Bridget Clyde smiled icily at Hal. ‘You’ve outsmarted a whole train of police have you, laddie?’ She sat down. ‘Well, c’mon then. You’ve got us all here now – let’s hear it.’

  The carriage went quiet. Hal’s hand went to his St Christopher.

  ‘When I first got on the Highland Falcon, I read a newspaper article about a thief who’d been stealing jewels from high-society parties.’ He looked at Lydia Pickle. ‘Then Mrs Pickle’s brooch went missing.’ She winked at him. ‘I thought the thefts might be connected, because everyone on the train is from high society,’ Hal said. ‘Searching for the thief, I discovered that there was a stowaway hiding in the empty royal carriage. That’s when I met Lenny, the train driver’s daughter.’

  ‘Just as the inspector has said,’ Steven Pickle declared.

  ‘Lenny and I became friends. I told her about the jewel thief, and together we tried to solve the case, especially after the Atlas Diamond was taken. Our first suspect was Milo Essenbach.’

  Milo looked startled as heads turned to look at him.

  ‘We couldn’t work out why he was on the train. He isn’t a steam enthusiast, and he didn’t seem happy. He was in the observation car when the brooch was stolen, and then I saw him hide something sparkling in his pocket that time Steven Pickle wanted to search my room. He even told the police he had no alibi for when the Atlas Diamond was taken.’ Hal looked at Milo. ‘I’m ashamed to say, we thought the scar over your lip made you look like a villain. I’m sorry – that was wrong.’

  ‘So, he’s the thief?’ Steven Pickle turned to Milo.

  ‘No, he’s not.’ Hal shook his head. ‘He gave no alibi to Inspector Clyde because he was protecting someone.’

  Milo stiffened. ‘I was?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Milo –’ Hal looked at the floor – ‘but I found your letter in the book in the library.’

  ‘Letter? What letter?’ Baron Essenbach asked.

  ‘Ah. Well, I suppose it had to come out sooner or later.’ Milo sighed. ‘I was going to tell you, Dad, once we’d got off this blasted train.’

  ‘Tell me what?’

  ‘Your son came on this journey because you asked him to,’ Hal said to the baron, ‘but also to be near to the woman he loves.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Sierra whispered.

  ‘Milo lied to Inspector Clyde. He was with someone while the train travelled from Ballater to Aberdeen.’

  ‘How is a detective supposed to do her job if people lie!’ Inspector Clyde exclaimed.

  ‘I thought Milo was in love with Sierra,’ explained Hal. ‘I’d seen her teasing Milo about getting married and hanging off his arm … But he’s not in love with Sierra,’ Hal said. ‘It’s Lucy you’re in love with, isn’t it, Milo?’

  ‘Oh!’ Lucy’s hands covered her blushing face.

  ‘I thought Sierra had sent Lucy to collect your love letters, but the letters were for her. She went to see you when the train went to Aberdeen, not Sierra. Sierra’s the one who didn’t have an alibi, and that’s why she made Lucy lie for her.’

  ‘You lied as well?’ Inspector Clyde demanded, looking at Sierra.

  ‘Sierra wanted an alibi,’ Hal continued, ‘because she already has a police record for shoplifting.’

  Lydia Pickle gasped. ‘Didn’t I say?’ She turned to Sierra. ‘The gossip mags are gonna go bonkers if you stole the biggest diamond in the world from your best friend.’

  ‘She’s the thief?’ Mr Pickle squealed, looking like he was about to have a heart attack.

  ‘No, I’m not!’ Sierra scowled.

  ‘Milo lied to protect Lucy,’ Hal went on. ‘Sierra lied to protect herself, and she asked Lucy to lie too.’ He looked at Milo. ‘The thing I saw you stuffing in your pocket – it was the bracelet found in the tender, and it’s Lucy’s.’ He pulled out his book and turned to his sketch of the observation car. ‘I even drew it on her wrist, the day we stepped on to the train – but I didn’t make the connection. You were trying to return it when you met the crowd of us in the corridor. You couldn’t, so you left it in your compartment – in the soap dish. The thief had plenty of time while the train sat at Ballater to see it through the window and plan to steal it later.’

  ‘How can you know about the bracelet?’ Milo asked, amazed.

  Hal blushed. ‘Lenny and I were so certain you were the thief that, when the train pulled into Settle, she climbed into your room through the window. We thought the bracelet was a clue. She had to hide in the drawer under the sofa because the real thief broke in and took it. When Lenny tried to leave, Sergeant Prattle saw her, found the lock forced on your door, and arrested her. The real thief threw the bracelet in the tender to give the Inspector the evidence she needed to charge Mr Singh and Lenny.’ Hal looked at Inspector Clyde.

  ‘No one claimed the bracelet,’ he continued, ‘because then they’d have to explain why Lucy’s bracelet was in Milo’s room. It would have exposed their secret.’ He turned to Sierra. ‘But you recognized it, didn’t you? You worked out what was going on.’ He smiled kindly at Lucy. ‘And that’s why I heard you crying in the bathroom.’

  Milo reached across the table and took Lucy’s hand. ‘You were crying?’

  ‘I fired her,’ said Sierra. ‘She’s a lying little Jezebel.’

  ‘The only lie I told was the one you asked me to,’ said Lucy
sharply.

  ‘You stole him from me!’ snapped Sierra.

  ‘People aren’t possessions, Sierra,’ said Milo. ‘I was never yours.’

  ‘Oh, please.’ Sierra shook her head. ‘I don’t understand what you see in her. She’s not even pretty.’

  ‘I think she’s beautiful.’ Milo smiled, taking Lucy’s hand. ‘And I plan on marrying her, if she’ll have me.’

  ‘Oh!’ Lucy blushed. ‘Yes, I will.’

  Baron Essenbach stood up. ‘May I be the first to congratulate you, Milo, on an excellent match.’ He looked at Lucy. ‘Welcome to the family, my dear.’

  Sierra looked away in disgust.

  ‘Ahem.’ Lady Lansbury coughed politely. ‘This is all terribly interesting, but does that mean the actress took my earrings?’ She turned to Sierra. ‘I really would rather like them back.’

  ‘I crossed Milo and Lucy off my suspect list because they had an alibi.’ Hal stepped forward. ‘Lydia Pickle and Lady Lansbury, I placed you above suspicion because you were the thief’s victims and are also wealthy – I couldn’t see a motive for either of you to be the thief.’

  ‘We’d hardly steal our own jewels,’ huffed Steven Pickle.

  ‘Or at least, that’s what I thought – until I learned you were in financial trouble, Mr Pickle.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘When the Highland Falcon left King’s Cross, Ernest White installed that microphone.’ Hal pointed at the fluffy mic head clamped to the window. ‘He wanted to preserve the sound of the train’s last journey, but it also recorded fragments of conversation from that table.’

  ‘He what?’ Mr Pickle glared at the device.

  ‘It wasn’t intended to,’ said Ernest unapologetically, ‘but you are very loud.’

  ‘Grailax badly needs money,’ Hal said, ‘and Mr Pickle came on this trip hoping to persuade Baron Essenbach and Lady Lansbury to invest in his company.’

  ‘Did you, babes?’ Lydia Pickle asked, blinking. ‘I thought it was cos you wanted to see the castle.’

  ‘Those were private conversations!’ Mr Pickle blustered.

  ‘It was possible you’d steal your wife’s brooch to collect the insurance,’ said Hal. ‘It would also divert attention from you when the Atlas Diamond was stolen too.’

  Lydia Pickle gasped. ‘You never!’

  ‘You brat!’ Steven Pickle slammed his hand on the table. ‘This is outrageous. I’ll sue you for slander, you little maggot!’

  ‘You became my number one suspect.’ Hal didn’t break eye contact with Steven Pickle, enjoying the moment. ‘You were in the observation car when the brooch was stolen. You have no real alibi for the time the princess’s necklace was taken. You had a motive, and you were constantly trying to cast suspicion on me.’ Steven Pickle’s face was turning purple. ‘But despite all that,’ Hal concluded, ‘it didn’t fit. Whoever swapped the necklace for a fake did it swiftly and silently. The crime was planned by someone very clever. It couldn’t have been you.’

  Steven Pickle’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, and Amy let out a snort of laughter.

  ‘I suspected all of you, even my own uncle,’ Hal said to the room. ‘There was only one person I knew for certain didn’t commit the crime, and that was Marlene Singh.’ He turned to Inspector Clyde. ‘Because we were eating scones in the generator room while we travelled back from Ballater.’

  Inspector Clyde shook her head. ‘Did any of you tell me the truth?’

  ‘I went round and round trying to work out who could have hidden in the princess’s wardrobe and switched the pendants. Who had a key? Who had the opportunity? The fake copy of the necklace had to have been made in advance by someone very skilled. The thief was following a plan. But what a silly plan – to hide in a wardrobe waiting for the princess and her guard to leave the necklace alone at the right moment. Who would plan a crime like that? And then I realized – nobody would. Because that’s not when the necklace was taken.’

  Inspector Clyde looked up. ‘What?’

  ‘Stealing a brooch from someone – while they’re still wearing it,’ Hal said. ‘That’s the sign of a skilled pickpocket. Someone who sees something they want and takes it, using nimble fingers and misdirection.’ He shook his head. ‘That’s when I realized the diamond necklace must have been stolen before the princess even got on the train. It was stolen at Balmoral.’

  ‘That’s impossible.’ Heads turned at the sound of the prince’s voice.

  ‘Your Royal Highness.’ Hal bowed his head.

  ‘My wife took the necklace from the safe before any of you arrived at Balmoral,’ the prince said. ‘It was around her neck in plain sight of many people, including myself, the whole time. She didn’t take it off until we were in the train carriage.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Hal. ‘That’s why no one thought it could have been taken sooner … but it was.’

  ‘When was it stolen, Harrison?’ The princess came to stand beside her husband.

  ‘It was stolen from your neck in front of everybody,’ said Hal, ‘by a skilful criminal. Someone who’s been stealing the jewels of her friends in high society for years.’ He turned and pointed. ‘It was stolen by Lady Lansbury.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  OFF THE RAILS

  Lady Lansbury laughed. ‘You can’t be serious, boy!’

  ‘You were a guest at every one of the parties where the jewel thief struck,’ Hal said.

  ‘I’m invited to every society occasion,’ Lady Lansbury said, ‘but that doesn’t make me a thief. I was a victim of the thief, remember?’

  ‘I do remember.’ Hal nodded, lifting his drawing. ‘I remember you wore black dangling earrings in the observation car. The ones you’re wearing now look like emeralds surrounded by diamonds.’ He flipped the pages to a profile sketch of her. ‘You wore huge square diamond earrings to Balmoral.’

  ‘Well, I have many pairs of earrings in my jewellery box.’

  ‘Exactly. Then why didn’t the thief take them all?’ Hal asked.

  There was a stunned silence.

  ‘Why would a thief steal only one pair of pearl earrings, when there were giant diamonds on offer? I think your earrings were never taken. You invented a theft to put yourself above suspicion.’

  ‘This is preposterous.’ Lady Lansbury looked at the princess. ‘Are you suggesting that I ripped the pendant from the princess’s neck? I’m certain she would have noticed.’

  ‘You didn’t rip it from her neck,’ Hal said, ‘and you didn’t act alone.’

  ‘I’m tired. I’m returning to my compartment.’

  ‘You had help from your son, Terrence Lansbury. Or, as we’ve known him on the Highland Falcon, Rowan Buck, your gentleman-in-waiting.’

  ‘Terry?’ The prince turned and stared. ‘My God – is it you?’

  ‘He kept away from everyone as much as possible, but especially you,’ Hal said, as Lady Lansbury’s son’s head dropped. ‘He’s lost weight and dyed his hair, but there was a risk you’d recognize him. Isaac gave me this old photograph of the prince with his family standing by the Highland Falcon.’ Hal held it up. ‘Lady Lansbury: this is you, your husband, your daughter and your son.’ He looked at the man he’d known as Rowan Buck. ‘You were chubby and smiley, without the moustache, but it’s the same face – just older. I realized when I drew you.’

  ‘So what?’ spluttered Lady Lansbury. ‘My son is here, looking after my dogs. The poor boy just got out of prison. He needed a job – I thought it would be terribly embarrassing for him to be here as a servant under his own name, so we pretended he was someone else. That’s not a crime. It’s charitable.’

  ‘But why do you have dogs, Lady Lansbury?’ asked Hal. ‘You don’t seem to like them. You get their names wrong, and your son doesn’t treat them well. Dogs don’t like being shut up on a train for days, so why would you bring them?’ Hal felt himself getting angry. ‘You have the dogs because you needed them to make the crime work.’ He shook his head.<
br />
  ‘When they got on the train, I thought the dogs were naughty, but if I asked them to sit, they did it. I thought it was because they liked me, but they responded to Rowan’s whistle when he took them to the bathroom, so why did he struggle to keep them under control the rest of the time? Unless he was pretending.’

  ‘But those mutts attack me every time they see me!’ exclaimed Sierra.

  ‘On my first night on the train, I visited the compartment where the dogs are kept and drew them.’ Hal flipped the pages of his sketchbook. ‘I saw bottles of Gyastara perfume by the sink.’

  ‘That’s my perfume,’ said the princess.

  ‘Mine too,’ said Sierra.

  ‘Rowan – I mean, Terrence – trained the Samoyeds to jump and bark and fuss whenever they smelt the princess’s perfume. He didn’t realize Sierra wore it as well, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that the dogs would crowd around the princess.’ He looked at her. ‘At Balmoral, you said you loved Samoyeds – is that right?’

  The princess nodded. ‘I had one when I was a girl.’

  ‘Lady Lansbury knew that. She counted on you hugging them when they ran to you – that you wouldn’t run away.’

  ‘Why would me liking Samoyeds help them steal my necklace?’ asked the princess.

  ‘Watch,’ said Hal. ‘Uncle Nat?’

  Uncle Nat reached into his jacket and pulled out a bottle of Gyastara perfume, which he tossed across the carriage to Hal with a wink. Hal spritzed the perfume into the air, and immediately four of the dogs yapped and jumped against their leads, held back by Terrence Lansbury. Only Bailey didn’t leap about, but lay at his feet, whimpering.

  ‘When the dogs were taken out of the car at Balmoral, they smelt your perfume and rushed towards you,’ Hal explained to the princess. ‘Terrence pretended he couldn’t control them, but they were trained to knock you over. Lady Lansbury rushed over and put her arm around you. She was behind you, Rowan was in front, and for a moment, none of us could see you.

  ‘Everyone was surprised and concerned, and in the commotion, with quick, light fingers, Lady Lansbury took the fake necklace from her purse, undid the clasp, and switched them – putting the Atlas pendant in her clutch bag. When they helped you to your feet, you were wearing the copy. Lady Lansbury gave Terrence her purse with the real necklace inside and sent him back to the train. It happened in full view – and none of us noticed.’

 

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